diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..8f111ff4f4b846c8cd351bf4241e814a2b8a19ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cBog Lights.\u201d", "start_byte": 24046, "end_byte": 24059, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 135.2549969482422, "cut_end_time": 136.29005944824218, "narration": {"text": "While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy,", "cut_start_time": 126.0949966430664, "cut_end_time": 135.1100591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "On the night of his arrival in London, Alexander went immediately to the hotel on the Embankment at which he always stopped, and in the lobby he was accosted by an old acquaintance, Maurice Mainhall, who fell upon him with effusive cordiality and indicated a willingness to dine with him. Bartley never dined alone if he could help it, and Mainhall was a good gossip who always knew what had been going on in town; especially, he knew everything that was not printed in the newspapers. The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself; among them a \u201cHistory of Dancing,\u201d a \u201cHistory of Costume,\u201d a \u201cKey to Shakespeare\u2019s Sonnets,\u201d a study of \u201cThe Poetry of Ernest Dowson,\u201d etc. Although Mainhall\u2019s enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage-Englishman of American drama: tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. He spoke with an extreme Oxford accent, and when he was talking well, his face sometimes wore the rapt expression of a very emotional man listening to music. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else.\n\nWhile they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy, <|quote_start|>\u201cBog Lights.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s really quite the best thing MacConnell\u2019s done,\u201d he explained as they got into a hansom. \u201cIt\u2019s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne\u2019s the hit of the piece. Hugh\u2019s written a delightful part for her, and she\u2019s quite inexpressible. It\u2019s been on only two weeks, and I\u2019ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell\u2019s box for tonight or there\u2019d be no chance of our getting places. There\u2019s everything in seeing Hilda while she\u2019s fresh in a part. She\u2019s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"proposed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s really quite the best thing MacConnell\u2019s done,", "start_byte": 24061, "end_byte": 24113, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 137.11499755859376, "cut_end_time": 139.21012255859375, "narration": {"text": "While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy,", "cut_start_time": 126.0949966430664, "cut_end_time": 135.1100591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "On the night of his arrival in London, Alexander went immediately to the hotel on the Embankment at which he always stopped, and in the lobby he was accosted by an old acquaintance, Maurice Mainhall, who fell upon him with effusive cordiality and indicated a willingness to dine with him. Bartley never dined alone if he could help it, and Mainhall was a good gossip who always knew what had been going on in town; especially, he knew everything that was not printed in the newspapers. The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself; among them a \u201cHistory of Dancing,\u201d a \u201cHistory of Costume,\u201d a \u201cKey to Shakespeare\u2019s Sonnets,\u201d a study of \u201cThe Poetry of Ernest Dowson,\u201d etc. Although Mainhall\u2019s enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage-Englishman of American drama: tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. He spoke with an extreme Oxford accent, and when he was talking well, his face sometimes wore the rapt expression of a very emotional man listening to music. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else.\n\nWhile they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy, \u201cBog Lights.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s really quite the best thing MacConnell\u2019s done,\u201d<|quote_end|> he explained as they got into a hansom. \u201cIt\u2019s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne\u2019s the hit of the piece. Hugh\u2019s written a delightful part for her, and she\u2019s quite inexpressible. It\u2019s been on only two weeks, and I\u2019ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell\u2019s box for tonight or there\u2019d be no chance of our getting places. There\u2019s everything in seeing Hilda while she\u2019s fresh in a part. She\u2019s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, I haven\u2019t heard of her for \u2014 years.\u201d", "start_byte": 24704, "end_byte": 24746, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 171.7450061035156, "cut_end_time": 174.26000610351562, "narration": {"text": "While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy,", "cut_start_time": 126.0949966430664, "cut_end_time": 135.1100591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne\u2019s the hit of the piece. Hugh\u2019s written a delightful part for her, and she\u2019s quite inexpressible. It\u2019s been on only two weeks, and I\u2019ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell\u2019s box for tonight or there\u2019d be no chance of our getting places. There\u2019s everything in seeing Hilda while she\u2019s fresh in a part. She\u2019s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.\u201d\n\n\u201cHilda Burgoyne!\u201d Alexander exclaimed mildly. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, I haven\u2019t heard of her for \u2014 years.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nMainhall laughed. \u201cThen you can\u2019t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It\u2019s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she\u2019s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London \u2014 but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,\u201d \u2014 Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, \u2014", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "mildly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cThen you can\u2019t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It\u2019s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she\u2019s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London \u2014 but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,", "start_byte": 24766, "end_byte": 25041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 175.79500610351562, "cut_end_time": 191.64000610351562, "narration": {"text": "While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell\u2019s new comedy,", "cut_start_time": 126.0949966430664, "cut_end_time": 135.1100591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne\u2019s the hit of the piece. Hugh\u2019s written a delightful part for her, and she\u2019s quite inexpressible. It\u2019s been on only two weeks, and I\u2019ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell\u2019s box for tonight or there\u2019d be no chance of our getting places. There\u2019s everything in seeing Hilda while she\u2019s fresh in a part. She\u2019s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.\u201d\n\n\u201cHilda Burgoyne!\u201d Alexander exclaimed mildly. \u201cWhy, I haven\u2019t heard of her for \u2014 years.\u201d\n\nMainhall laughed. <|quote_start|>\u201cThen you can\u2019t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It\u2019s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she\u2019s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London \u2014 but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, \u2014 \u201cdo you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one.\u201d\n\nJust then they drove up to the Duke of York\u2019s, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage-box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander\u2019s attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. \u201cAfter all,\u201d he reflected,", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cdo you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one.\u201d", "start_byte": 25159, "end_byte": 25302, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 198.03499633789062, "cut_end_time": 206.88005883789063, "narration": {"text": " \u2014 Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, \u2014", "cut_start_time": 191.78499267578124, "cut_end_time": 197.65005517578123, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Mainhall laughed. \u201cThen you can\u2019t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It\u2019s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she\u2019s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London \u2014 but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,\u201d \u2014 Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201cdo you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nJust then they drove up to the Duke of York\u2019s, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage-box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander\u2019s attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. \u201cAfter all,\u201d he reflected,", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "rubbed": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cthere\u2019s small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn\u2019t thought of me for years.", "start_byte": 25754, "end_byte": 25849, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 232.2749932861328, "cut_end_time": 236.9801182861328, "narration": {"text": " \u2014 Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, \u2014", "cut_start_time": 191.78499267578124, "cut_end_time": 197.65005517578123, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Just then they drove up to the Duke of York\u2019s, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage-box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander\u2019s attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. \u201cAfter all,\u201d he reflected, <|quote_start|>\u201cthere\u2019s small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn\u2019t thought of me for years.\u201d<|quote_end|> He felt the enthusiasm of the house at once, and in a few moments he was caught up by the current of MacConnell\u2019s irresistible comedy. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey-girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation, every one smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d he murmured in Alexander\u2019s ear, as the curtain fell on the first act,", "narrative_information_pred": {"reflected": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cThe Rising of the Moon", "start_byte": 27735, "end_byte": 27758, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 344.79501464843753, "cut_end_time": 346.0200771484375, "narration": {"text": "The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face.", "cut_start_time": 386.7749853515625, "cut_end_time": 391.77011035156255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "The second act opened before Philly Doyle\u2019s underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of potheen across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall\u2019s sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half-skeptical interest. As Mainhall had said, she was the second act; the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together, in her mirthful brown eyes. When she began to dance, by way of showing the gossoons what she had seen in the fairy rings at night, the house broke into a prolonged uproar. After her dance she withdrew from the dialogue and retreated to the ditch wall back of Philly\u2019s burrow, where she sat singing <|quote_start|>\u201cThe Rising of the Moon\u201d<|quote_end|> and making a wreath of primroses for her donkey.\n\nWhen the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.", "narrative_information_pred": {"singing": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d", "start_byte": 28250, "end_byte": 28465, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 373.72501464843754, "cut_end_time": 385.7600146484375, "narration": {"text": "The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face.", "cut_start_time": 386.7749853515625, "cut_end_time": 391.77011035156255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. \u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,\u201d Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. \u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d\n\nMacConnell grunted. \u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?", "start_byte": 28563, "end_byte": 28610, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 392.2750134277344, "cut_end_time": 394.7300759277344, "narration": {"text": " Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential.", "cut_start_time": 396.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 401.89000122070314, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.\n\n\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d\n\nThe playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?\u201d<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,\u201d Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. \u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d\n\nMacConnell grunted. \u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d\n\nHe nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,", "start_byte": 28623, "end_byte": 28649, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 395.7250024414063, "cut_end_time": 396.82006494140626, "narration": {"text": " Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential.", "cut_start_time": 396.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 401.89000122070314, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.\n\n\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d\n\nThe playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. \u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?\u201d he asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,\u201d<|quote_end|> Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. \u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d\n\nMacConnell grunted. \u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d\n\nHe nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.", "narrative_information_pred": {"lounged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 28746, "end_byte": 28859, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 402.245, "cut_end_time": 407.3800625, "narration": {"text": " Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential.", "cut_start_time": 396.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 401.89000122070314, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d\n\nThe playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. \u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,\u201d Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nMacConnell grunted. \u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d\n\nHe nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.\n\n\u201cPoor old Hugh,\u201d Mainhall murmured. \u201cHe\u2019s hit terribly hard. He\u2019s been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more. She doesn\u2019t take up with anybody, you know. Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning. One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe. I dare say it\u2019s quite true that there\u2019s never been any one else", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "confidential": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d", "start_byte": 28881, "end_byte": 29011, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 409.16499145507817, "cut_end_time": 415.45005395507815, "narration": {"text": " Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential.", "cut_start_time": 396.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 401.89000122070314, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It\u2019s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You\u2019ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.\u201d\n\nThe playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. \u201cAnd have I done anything so fool as that, now?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I was saying,\u201d Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. \u201cAnd you\u2019ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn\u2019t possibly be better, you know.\u201d\n\nMacConnell grunted. <|quote_start|>\u201cShe\u2019ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn\u2019t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she\u2019s more than like to do.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.\n\n\u201cPoor old Hugh,\u201d Mainhall murmured. \u201cHe\u2019s hit terribly hard. He\u2019s been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more. She doesn\u2019t take up with anybody, you know. Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning. One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe. I dare say it\u2019s quite true that there\u2019s never been any one else", "narrative_information_pred": {"grunted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cShe\u2019s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He\u2019s another who\u2019s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.\u201d", "start_byte": 29752, "end_byte": 30005, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 455.81500610351566, "cut_end_time": 469.6100061035157, "narration": {"text": "Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.", "cut_start_time": 470.39500000000004, "cut_end_time": 474.37, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHe\u2019s hit terribly hard. He\u2019s been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more. She doesn\u2019t take up with anybody, you know. Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning. One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe. I dare say it\u2019s quite true that there\u2019s never been any one else.\u201d Mainhall vouched for her constancy with a loftiness that made Alexander smile, even while a kind of rapid excitement was tingling through him. Blinking up at the lights, Mainhall added in his luxurious, worldly way: <|quote_start|>\u201cShe\u2019s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He\u2019s another who\u2019s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.\n\nMainhall cut in impatiently.\n\n\u201cI say, Sir Harry, the little girl\u2019s going famously to-night, isn\u2019t she?\u201d\n\nSir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. \u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "luxurious": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "worldly": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cI say, Sir Harry, the little girl\u2019s going famously to-night, isn\u2019t she?\u201d", "start_byte": 30122, "end_byte": 30195, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 476.6649890136719, "cut_end_time": 480.0100515136719, "narration": {"text": "Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.", "cut_start_time": 470.39500000000004, "cut_end_time": 474.37, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Mainhall vouched for her constancy with a loftiness that made Alexander smile, even while a kind of rapid excitement was tingling through him. Blinking up at the lights, Mainhall added in his luxurious, worldly way: \u201cShe\u2019s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He\u2019s another who\u2019s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.\u201d\n\nSir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.\n\nMainhall cut in impatiently.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI say, Sir Harry, the little girl\u2019s going famously to-night, isn\u2019t she?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. \u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d\n\nHe bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: \u201cYou know Lord Westmere, of course, \u2014 the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "impatiently": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d", "start_byte": 30239, "end_byte": 30509, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 483.5049987792969, "cut_end_time": 498.0501237792969, "narration": {"text": "Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.", "cut_start_time": 470.39500000000004, "cut_end_time": 474.37, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cShe\u2019s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He\u2019s another who\u2019s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.\u201d\n\nSir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.\n\nMainhall cut in impatiently.\n\n\u201cI say, Sir Harry, the little girl\u2019s going famously to-night, isn\u2019t she?\u201d\n\nSir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. <|quote_start|>\u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: \u201cYou know Lord Westmere, of course, \u2014 the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.\u201d\n\nWhen they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing \u201cThe Cloak of Old Gaul.\u201d In a moment Peggy was on the stage again, and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest. He even leaned forward over the rail a little. For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience. In the half-light he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously, recalling with amusement Sir Harry\u2019s judicial frown. He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender, barefoot donkey-girl who slipped in and out of the play, singing, like some one winding through a hilly field. He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when, at the end of the play, she came again and again before the curtain, panting a little and flushed, her eyes dancing and her eager, nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wrinkled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "judiciously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cYou know Lord Westmere, of course, \u2014 the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.\u201d", "start_byte": 30570, "end_byte": 30713, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 502.20500000000004, "cut_end_time": 509.6900625, "narration": {"text": "Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.", "cut_start_time": 470.39500000000004, "cut_end_time": 474.37, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI say, Sir Harry, the little girl\u2019s going famously to-night, isn\u2019t she?\u201d\n\nSir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. \u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d\n\nHe bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: <|quote_start|>\u201cYou know Lord Westmere, of course, \u2014 the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWhen they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing \u201cThe Cloak of Old Gaul.\u201d In a moment Peggy was on the stage again, and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest. He even leaned forward over the rail a little. For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience. In the half-light he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously, recalling with amusement Sir Harry\u2019s judicial frown. He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender, barefoot donkey-girl who slipped in and out of the play, singing, like some one winding through a hilly field. He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when, at the end of the play, she came again and again before the curtain, panting a little and flushed, her eyes dancing and her eager, nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cThe Cloak of Old Gaul.", "start_byte": 30796, "end_byte": 30819, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 512.975, "cut_end_time": 514.51, "narration": {"text": "When they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing", "cut_start_time": 509.65500610351563, "cut_end_time": 513.1000061035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDo you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she\u2019s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.\u201d\n\nHe bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: \u201cYou know Lord Westmere, of course, \u2014 the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.\u201d\n\nWhen they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing <|quote_start|>\u201cThe Cloak of Old Gaul.\u201d<|quote_end|> In a moment Peggy was on the stage again, and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest. He even leaned forward over the rail a little. For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience. In the half-light he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously, recalling with amusement Sir Harry\u2019s judicial frown. He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender, barefoot donkey-girl who slipped in and out of the play, singing, like some one winding through a hilly field. He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when, at the end of the play, she came again and again before the curtain, panting a little and flushed, her eyes dancing and her eager, nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 7}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I think not, though I am glad you ask me. You see, one can\u2019t be jealous about things in general; but about particular, definite, personal things,", "start_byte": 32720, "end_byte": 32870, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 623.1650048828125, "cut_end_time": 631.7600673828125, "narration": {"text": "When they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing", "cut_start_time": 509.65500610351563, "cut_end_time": 513.1000061035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "When Alexander returned to his hotel \u2014 he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre \u2014 he had some supper brought up to his room, and it was late before he went to bed. He had not thought of Hilda Burgoyne for years; indeed, he had almost forgotten her. He had last written to her from Canada, after he first met Winifred, telling her that everything was changed with him \u2014 that he had met a woman whom he would marry if he could; if he could not, then all the more was everything changed for him. Hilda had never replied to his letter. He felt guilty and unhappy about her for a time, but after Winifred promised to marry him he really forgot Hilda altogether. When he wrote her that everything was changed for him, he was telling the truth. After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man. One night when he and Winifred were sitting together on the bridge, he told her that things had happened while he was studying abroad that he was sorry for, \u2014 one thing in particular, \u2014 and he asked her whether she thought she ought to know about them. She considered a moment and then said <|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I think not, though I am glad you ask me. You see, one can\u2019t be jealous about things in general; but about particular, definite, personal things,\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 here she had thrown her hands up to his shoulders with a quick, impulsive gesture \u2014 \u201coh, about those I should be very jealous. I should torture myself \u2014 I couldn\u2019t help it.\u201d After that it was easy to forget, actually to forget. He wondered to-night, as he poured his wine, how many times he had thought of Hilda in the last ten years. He had been in London more or less, but he had never happened to hear of her. \u201cAll the same,\u201d he lifted his glass, \u201chere\u2019s to you, little Hilda. You\u2019ve made things come your way, and I never thought you\u2019d do it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201coh, about those I should be very jealous. I should torture myself \u2014 I couldn\u2019t help it.", "start_byte": 32958, "end_byte": 33046, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 636.85501953125, "cut_end_time": 641.86008203125, "narration": {"text": " he lifted his glass, \u201chere\u2019s to you, little Hilda. You\u2019ve made things come your way, and I never thought you\u2019d do it.", "cut_start_time": 657.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 664.5100048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "When Alexander returned to his hotel \u2014 he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre \u2014 he had some supper brought up to his room, and it was late before he went to bed. He had not thought of Hilda Burgoyne for years; indeed, he had almost forgotten her. He had last written to her from Canada, after he first met Winifred, telling her that everything was changed with him \u2014 that he had met a woman whom he would marry if he could; if he could not, then all the more was everything changed for him. Hilda had never replied to his letter. He felt guilty and unhappy about her for a time, but after Winifred promised to marry him he really forgot Hilda altogether. When he wrote her that everything was changed for him, he was telling the truth. After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man. One night when he and Winifred were sitting together on the bridge, he told her that things had happened while he was studying abroad that he was sorry for, \u2014 one thing in particular, \u2014 and he asked her whether she thought she ought to know about them. She considered a moment and then said \u201cNo, I think not, though I am glad you ask me. You see, one can\u2019t be jealous about things in general; but about particular, definite, personal things,\u201d \u2014 here she had thrown her hands up to his shoulders with a quick, impulsive gesture \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201coh, about those I should be very jealous. I should torture myself \u2014 I couldn\u2019t help it.\u201d<|quote_end|> After that it was easy to forget, actually to forget. He wondered to-night, as he poured his wine, how many times he had thought of Hilda in the last ten years. He had been in London more or less, but he had never happened to hear of her. \u201cAll the same,\u201d he lifted his glass, \u201chere\u2019s to you, little Hilda. You\u2019ve made things come your way, and I never thought you\u2019d do it.\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d he reflected, \u201cshe always had that combination of something homely and sensible, and something utterly wild and daft. But I never thought she\u2019d do anything. She hadn\u2019t much ambition then, and she was too fond of trifles. She must care about the theatre a great deal more than she used to. Perhaps she has me to thank for something, after all. Sometimes a little jolt like that does one good. She was a daft, generous little thing. I\u2019m glad she\u2019s held her own since. After all, we were awfully young. It was youth and poverty and proximity, and everything was young and kindly. I shouldn\u2019t wonder if she could laugh about it with me now. I shouldn\u2019t wonder \u2014 But they\u2019ve probably spoiled her, so that she\u2019d be tiresome if one met her again.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_02_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 25}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..0be33a858e46e1c4828482c8e465e552eefd8d6b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cGood-night, cabby,", "start_byte": 38261, "end_byte": 38280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 247.63500244140624, "cut_end_time": 248.64000244140624, "narration": {"text": "When Alexander walked back to his hotel, the red and green lights were blinking along the docks on the farther shore, and the soft white stars were shining in the wide sky above the river.", "cut_start_time": 633.884990234375, "cut_end_time": 643.5500527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He crossed Bedford Square and found the number he was looking for. The house, a comfortable, well-kept place enough, was dark except for the four front windows on the second floor, where a low, even light was burning behind the white muslin sash curtains. Outside there were window boxes, painted white and full of flowers. Bartley was making a third round of the Square when he heard the far-flung hoof-beats of a hansom-cab horse, driven rapidly. He looked at his watch, and was astonished to find that it was a few minutes after twelve. He turned and walked back along the iron railing as the cab came up to Hilda\u2019s number and stopped. The hansom must have been one that she employed regularly, for she did not stop to pay the driver. She stepped out quickly and lightly. He heard her cheerful <|quote_start|>\u201cGood-night, cabby,\u201d<|quote_end|> as she ran up the steps and opened the door with a latchkey. In a few moments the lights flared up brightly behind the white curtains, and as he walked away he heard a window raised. But he had gone too far to look up without turning round. He went back to his hotel, feeling that he had had a good evening, and he slept well.\n\nFor the next few days Alexander was very busy. He took a desk in the office of a Scotch engineering firm on Henrietta Street, and was at work almost constantly. He avoided the clubs and usually dined alone at his hotel. One afternoon, after he had tea, he started for a walk down the Embankment toward Westminster, intending to end his stroll at Bedford Square and to ask whether Miss Burgoyne would let him take her to the theatre. But he did not go so far. When he reached the Abbey, he turned back and crossed Westminster Bridge and sat down to watch the trails of smoke behind the Houses of Parliament catch fire with the sunset. The slender towers were washed by a rain of golden light and licked by little flickering flames; Somerset House and the bleached gray pinnacles about Whitehall were floated in a luminous haze. The yellow light poured through the trees and the leaves seemed to burn with soft fires. There was a smell of acacias in the air everywhere, and the laburnums were dripping gold over the walls of the gardens. It was a sweet, lonely kind of summer evening. Remembering Hilda as she used to be, was doubtless more satisfactory than seeing her as she must be now \u2014 and, after all, Alexander asked himself, what was it but his own young years that he was remembering?", "narrative_information_pred": {"heard": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerful": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cMr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?\u201d", "start_byte": 46475, "end_byte": 46537, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 741.0649877929687, "cut_end_time": 744.7301127929687, "narration": {"text": "It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.", "cut_start_time": 704.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 712.7400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford\u2019s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. \u201cLong enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!\u201d\n\nShe laughed as if she were pleased. \u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. I like it. Won\u2019t you join us here?\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cLong enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!\u201d", "start_byte": 46591, "end_byte": 46657, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 748.5150073242188, "cut_end_time": 752.3400698242187, "narration": {"text": "It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.", "cut_start_time": 704.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 712.7400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford\u2019s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.\n\n\u201cMr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?\u201d\n\nBartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. <|quote_start|>\u201cLong enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe laughed as if she were pleased. \u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. I like it. Won\u2019t you join us here?\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bowed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "somewhat": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "laboriously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. I like it. Won\u2019t you join us here?\u201d", "start_byte": 46695, "end_byte": 46754, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 754.2550170898438, "cut_end_time": 757.5100170898438, "narration": {"text": "It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.", "cut_start_time": 704.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 712.7400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford\u2019s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.\n\n\u201cMr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?\u201d\n\nBartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. \u201cLong enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!\u201d\n\nShe laughed as if she were pleased. <|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. I like it. Won\u2019t you join us here?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMiss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cMiss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,", "start_byte": 46756, "end_byte": 46840, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 758.315, "cut_end_time": 762.22, "narration": {"text": "It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.", "cut_start_time": 704.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 712.7400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford\u2019s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.\n\n\u201cMr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?\u201d\n\nBartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. \u201cLong enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!\u201d\n\nShe laughed as if she were pleased. \u201cI\u2019m glad you think so. I like it. Won\u2019t you join us here?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMiss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,\u201d<|quote_end|> Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cI thought I saw you in MacConnell\u2019s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.\u201d", "start_byte": 47947, "end_byte": 48061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 829.8850244140625, "cut_end_time": 835.0800244140626, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.\n\nWhen the story was finished, Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander, and the other men drifted away.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI thought I saw you in MacConnell\u2019s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.\n\n\u201cNo, I\u2019ve been mooning about here.\u201d\n\nHilda laughed gayly. \u201cMooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You\u2019re handsomer than ever and you\u2019ve gained a grand manner.\u201d\n\nAlexander blushed and bowed. \u201cTime and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren\u2019t you tremendously pleased with yourself?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I\u2019ve been mooning about here.\u201d", "start_byte": 48180, "end_byte": 48215, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 841.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 843.5901005859375, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.\n\nWhen the story was finished, Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander, and the other men drifted away.\n\n\u201cI thought I saw you in MacConnell\u2019s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.\u201d\n\nShe looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I\u2019ve been mooning about here.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda laughed gayly. \u201cMooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You\u2019re handsomer than ever and you\u2019ve gained a grand manner.\u201d\n\nAlexander blushed and bowed. \u201cTime and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren\u2019t you tremendously pleased with yourself?\u201d\n\nShe laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. \u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "frankly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}, "cordially": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cMooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You\u2019re handsomer than ever and you\u2019ve gained a grand manner.\u201d", "start_byte": 48238, "end_byte": 48420, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 845.1349731445313, "cut_end_time": 854.9500981445312, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth \u2014 still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt \u2014 and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.\n\nWhen the story was finished, Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander, and the other men drifted away.\n\n\u201cI thought I saw you in MacConnell\u2019s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.\u201d\n\nShe looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.\n\n\u201cNo, I\u2019ve been mooning about here.\u201d\n\nHilda laughed gayly. <|quote_start|>\u201cMooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You\u2019re handsomer than ever and you\u2019ve gained a grand manner.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander blushed and bowed. \u201cTime and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren\u2019t you tremendously pleased with yourself?\u201d\n\nShe laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. \u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "gayly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cTime and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren\u2019t you tremendously pleased with yourself?\u201d", "start_byte": 48451, "end_byte": 48554, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 857.4750073242187, "cut_end_time": 861.9100073242188, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI thought I saw you in MacConnell\u2019s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.\u201d\n\nShe looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.\n\n\u201cNo, I\u2019ve been mooning about here.\u201d\n\nHilda laughed gayly. \u201cMooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You\u2019re handsomer than ever and you\u2019ve gained a grand manner.\u201d\n\nAlexander blushed and bowed. <|quote_start|>\u201cTime and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren\u2019t you tremendously pleased with yourself?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. \u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"blushed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bowed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d", "start_byte": 49044, "end_byte": 49176, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 889.7149975585937, "cut_end_time": 895.8501225585937, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d\n\nBartley shook his head and smiled drolly. <|quote_start|>\u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!\u201d Hilda exclaimed.\n\n\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.\u201d Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. \u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "drolly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!", "start_byte": 49178, "end_byte": 49231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 896.3850170898438, "cut_end_time": 899.5300795898438, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d\n\nBartley shook his head and smiled drolly. \u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!\u201d<|quote_end|> Hilda exclaimed.\n\n\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.\u201d Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. \u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.", "start_byte": 49251, "end_byte": 49312, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 901.2650268554688, "cut_end_time": 903.7700268554688, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.", "cut_start_time": 835.2849780273438, "cut_end_time": 841.3300405273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like \u2018The Mikado.\u2019 And what about your new bridge \u2014 in Canada, isn\u2019t it, and it\u2019s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can\u2019t remember.\u201d\n\nBartley shook his head and smiled drolly. \u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!\u201d Hilda exclaimed.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.\u201d<|quote_end|> Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. \u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d", "start_byte": 49432, "end_byte": 49556, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 909.765029296875, "cut_end_time": 915.060029296875, "narration": {"text": "\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 920.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 928.970009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Bartley shook his head and smiled drolly. \u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!\u201d Hilda exclaimed.\n\n\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.\u201d Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. <|quote_start|>\u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d\n\nShe cut him short. \u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d", "start_byte": 49558, "end_byte": 49620, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 915.8749926757813, "cut_end_time": 919.3401176757812, "narration": {"text": "\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 920.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 928.970009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cSince when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!\u201d Hilda exclaimed.\n\n\u201cWell, I think we won\u2019t talk about bridges here, at any rate.\u201d Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. \u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d\n\nShe cut him short. \u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d", "start_byte": 49841, "end_byte": 50128, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 930.254990234375, "cut_end_time": 944.240115234375, "narration": {"text": "\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 920.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 928.970009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. \u201cBut I wonder whether you\u2019d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d\n\nShe cut him short. <|quote_start|>\u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDoes it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn\u2019t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.\u201d He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor.\n\nHilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh. \u201cMy dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cDoes it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn\u2019t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.", "start_byte": 50130, "end_byte": 50264, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 944.6850244140625, "cut_end_time": 950.9400244140626, "narration": {"text": "\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 920.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 928.970009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I\u2019ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time \u2014 \u201d\n\nShe cut him short. \u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDoes it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn\u2019t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.\u201d<|quote_end|> He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor.\n\nHilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh. \u201cMy dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?\u201d\n\nBartley looked ruffled and turned the seal ring on his little finger about awkwardly.\n\nHilda leaned back in her chair, watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "seriously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cMy dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?\u201d", "start_byte": 50420, "end_byte": 50559, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 960.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 969.210115234375, "narration": {"text": "Hilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh.", "cut_start_time": 954.3849731445313, "cut_end_time": 960.3400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that\u2019s what you mean. I\u2019m like every one else \u2014 more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don\u2019t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn\u2019t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.\u201d He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor.\n\nHilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh. <|quote_start|>\u201cMy dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley looked ruffled and turned the seal ring on his little finger about awkwardly.\n\nHilda leaned back in her chair, watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes. \u201cCome, don\u2019t be angry, but don\u2019t try to pose for me, or to be anything but what you are. If you care to come, it\u2019s yourself I\u2019ll be glad to see, and you thinking well of yourself. Don\u2019t try to wear a cloak of humility; it doesn\u2019t become you. Stalk in as you are and don\u2019t make excuses. I\u2019m not accustomed to inquiring into the motives of my guests. That would hardly be safe, even for Lady Walford, in a great house like this.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "low": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}, "amused": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cSunday afternoon, then,", "start_byte": 51158, "end_byte": 51182, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1001.75498046875, "cut_end_time": 1002.86010546875, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned back in her chair, watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes.", "cut_start_time": 974.454990234375, "cut_end_time": 977.9200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cCome, don\u2019t be angry, but don\u2019t try to pose for me, or to be anything but what you are. If you care to come, it\u2019s yourself I\u2019ll be glad to see, and you thinking well of yourself. Don\u2019t try to wear a cloak of humility; it doesn\u2019t become you. Stalk in as you are and don\u2019t make excuses. I\u2019m not accustomed to inquiring into the motives of my guests. That would hardly be safe, even for Lady Walford, in a great house like this.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSunday afternoon, then,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Alexander, as she rose to join her hostess. \u201cHow early may I come?\u201d\n\nShe gave him her hand and flushed and laughed. He bent over it a little stiffly. She went away on Lady Walford\u2019s arm, and as he stood watching her yellow train glide down the long floor he looked rather sullen. He felt that he had not come out of it very brilliantly.\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nOn Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne\u2019s invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty-odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh MacConnell came with his sister, and stood about, managing his tea-cup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deep-set, faded eyes. He seemed to have made a resolute effort at tidiness of attire, and his sister, a robust, florid woman with a splendid joviality about her, kept eyeing his freshly creased clothes apprehensively. It was not very long, indeed, before his coat hung with a discouraged sag from his gaunt shoulders and his hair and beard were rumpled as if he had been out in a gale. His dry humor went under a cloud of absent-minded kindliness which, Mainhall explained, always overtook him here. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come in to a young girl\u2019s party.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_03_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..75096ea1a6e02cd7c4f82edee095f99a82d977c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cShe\u2019s a dear, unworldly little thing,", "start_byte": 53872, "end_byte": 53910, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 155.1750030517578, "cut_end_time": 157.3600655517578, "narration": {"text": "So sorry I can\u2019t see you. Will you come and dine with me Sunday evening at half-past seven?", "cut_start_time": 200.90499572753905, "cut_end_time": 205.70012072753906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. He looked very much like Agassiz, and his wife, in her old-fashioned black silk dress, overskirted and tight-sleeved, reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs. Browning. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their \u2018bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. <|quote_start|>\u201cShe\u2019s a dear, unworldly little thing,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the philosopher absently; \u201cmore like the stage people of my young days \u2014 folk of simple manners. There aren\u2019t many such left. American tours have spoiled them, I\u2019m afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn\u2019t care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.\u201d\n\nAlexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "absently": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cmore like the stage people of my young days \u2014 folk of simple manners. There aren\u2019t many such left. American tours have spoiled them, I\u2019m afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn\u2019t care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.\u201d", "start_byte": 53943, "end_byte": 54182, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 159.32500366210937, "cut_end_time": 172.82000366210937, "narration": {"text": "So sorry I can\u2019t see you. Will you come and dine with me Sunday evening at half-past seven?", "cut_start_time": 200.90499572753905, "cut_end_time": 205.70012072753906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. He looked very much like Agassiz, and his wife, in her old-fashioned black silk dress, overskirted and tight-sleeved, reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs. Browning. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their \u2018bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. \u201cShe\u2019s a dear, unworldly little thing,\u201d said the philosopher absently; <|quote_start|>\u201cmore like the stage people of my young days \u2014 folk of simple manners. There aren\u2019t many such left. American tours have spoiled them, I\u2019m afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn\u2019t care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "absently": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know,", "start_byte": 55106, "end_byte": 55174, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 223.85499938964844, "cut_end_time": 226.82012438964844, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.\n\nSo sorry I can\u2019t see you. Will you come and dine with me Sunday evening at half-past seven?\n\nH.B.\n\nWhen Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living-room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walford\u2019s.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know,\u201d<|quote_end|> he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair. \u201cYes, it\u2019s very, very pretty. Every one at Lady Walford\u2019s was looking at it.\u201d\n\nHilda curtsied. \u201cIs that why you think it pretty? I\u2019ve no need for fine clothes in Mac\u2019s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It\u2019s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don\u2019t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don\u2019t like English cookery.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "admiringly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cYes, it\u2019s very, very pretty. Every one at Lady Walford\u2019s was looking at it.\u201d", "start_byte": 55305, "end_byte": 55382, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 234.03499633789062, "cut_end_time": 237.80012133789063, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living-room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walford\u2019s.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know,\u201d he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, it\u2019s very, very pretty. Every one at Lady Walford\u2019s was looking at it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda curtsied. \u201cIs that why you think it pretty? I\u2019ve no need for fine clothes in Mac\u2019s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It\u2019s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don\u2019t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don\u2019t like English cookery.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "taking": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "admiringly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cI haven\u2019t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They\u2019re quite unusual, aren\u2019t they?\u201d", "start_byte": 55896, "end_byte": 56049, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 266.7750024414063, "cut_end_time": 274.1000024414063, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIs that why you think it pretty? I\u2019ve no need for fine clothes in Mac\u2019s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It\u2019s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don\u2019t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don\u2019t like English cookery.\u201d\n\nAlexander walked about the room, looking at everything.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI haven\u2019t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They\u2019re quite unusual, aren\u2019t they?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cLady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d\u2019Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.\u201d\n\nAlexander walked over to the bookcases. \u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cLady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d\u2019Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.\u201d", "start_byte": 56051, "end_byte": 56321, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 274.55498535156255, "cut_end_time": 287.96004785156254, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIs that why you think it pretty? I\u2019ve no need for fine clothes in Mac\u2019s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It\u2019s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don\u2019t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don\u2019t like English cookery.\u201d\n\nAlexander walked about the room, looking at everything.\n\n\u201cI haven\u2019t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They\u2019re quite unusual, aren\u2019t they?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cLady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d\u2019Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander walked over to the bookcases. \u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d\n\n\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d", "start_byte": 56363, "end_byte": 56574, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.1850134277344, "cut_end_time": 302.5100134277344, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI haven\u2019t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They\u2019re quite unusual, aren\u2019t they?\u201d\n\n\u201cLady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d\u2019Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.\u201d\n\nAlexander walked over to the bookcases. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad,\u201d said Alexander simply. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You\u2019ve got awfully nice friends,\u201d he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d", "start_byte": 56576, "end_byte": 56809, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 303.0049877929688, "cut_end_time": 315.8400502929688, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cLady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d\u2019Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.\u201d\n\nAlexander walked over to the bookcases. \u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad,\u201d said Alexander simply. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You\u2019ve got awfully nice friends,\u201d he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. \u201cThose fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don\u2019t talk of any one else as they do of you.\u201d\n\nHilda sat down on the couch and said seriously:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You\u2019ve got awfully nice friends,", "start_byte": 56846, "end_byte": 57011, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 318.3850036621094, "cut_end_time": 325.8200036621094, "narration": {"text": " he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair.", "cut_start_time": 226.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 233.70000122070311, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven\u2019t got anything that doesn\u2019t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.\u201d\n\n\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad,\u201d said Alexander simply. <|quote_start|>\u201cI can\u2019t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You\u2019ve got awfully nice friends,\u201d<|quote_end|> he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. \u201cThose fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don\u2019t talk of any one else as they do of you.\u201d\n\nHilda sat down on the couch and said seriously: \u201cI\u2019ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It\u2019s not worth much, but I love it. I\u2019ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He\u2019s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I\u2019ve traveled a bit, too.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "humbly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cThose fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don\u2019t talk of any one else as they do of you.\u201d", "start_byte": 57079, "end_byte": 57180, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 329.5350073242188, "cut_end_time": 335.11000732421877, "narration": {"text": "Marie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.", "cut_start_time": 360.09498779296877, "cut_end_time": 363.49005029296876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cRooms always look better by lamplight \u2014 in London, at least. Though Marie is clean \u2014 really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad,\u201d said Alexander simply. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You\u2019ve got awfully nice friends,\u201d he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. <|quote_start|>\u201cThose fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don\u2019t talk of any one else as they do of you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda sat down on the couch and said seriously: \u201cI\u2019ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It\u2019s not worth much, but I love it. I\u2019ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He\u2019s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I\u2019ve traveled a bit, too.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "humbly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cis the tiniest place you have ever seen.\u201d", "start_byte": 57757, "end_byte": 57799, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 366.45501098632815, "cut_end_time": 368.58007348632816, "narration": {"text": "It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.", "cut_start_time": 369.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 377.43006616210937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It\u2019s not worth much, but I love it. I\u2019ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He\u2019s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I\u2019ve traveled a bit, too.\u201d\n\nMarie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.\n\n\u201cMy dining-room,\u201d Hilda explained, as she led the way, <|quote_start|>\u201cis the tiniest place you have ever seen.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s not particularly rare,\u201d she said, \u201cbut some of it was my mother\u2019s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn\u2019t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre \u2014 queer theatres, for that matter.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s not particularly rare,", "start_byte": 57931, "end_byte": 57959, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 378.20500976562505, "cut_end_time": 379.66000976562503, "narration": {"text": "It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.", "cut_start_time": 369.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 377.43006616210937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It\u2019s not worth much, but I love it. I\u2019ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He\u2019s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I\u2019ve traveled a bit, too.\u201d\n\nMarie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.\n\n\u201cMy dining-room,\u201d Hilda explained, as she led the way, \u201cis the tiniest place you have ever seen.\u201d\n\nIt was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s not particularly rare,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said, \u201cbut some of it was my mother\u2019s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn\u2019t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre \u2014 queer theatres, for that matter.\u201d\n\nIt was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cbut some of it was my mother\u2019s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn\u2019t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre \u2014 queer theatres, for that matter.\u201d", "start_byte": 57971, "end_byte": 58339, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 380.02500000000003, "cut_end_time": 398.27000000000004, "narration": {"text": "It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.", "cut_start_time": 369.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 377.43006616210937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It\u2019s not worth much, but I love it. I\u2019ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He\u2019s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I\u2019ve traveled a bit, too.\u201d\n\nMarie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.\n\n\u201cMy dining-room,\u201d Hilda explained, as she led the way, \u201cis the tiniest place you have ever seen.\u201d\n\nIt was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s not particularly rare,\u201d she said, <|quote_start|>\u201cbut some of it was my mother\u2019s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn\u2019t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre \u2014 queer theatres, for that matter.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.\n\n\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d", "start_byte": 58682, "end_byte": 58833, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 418.7449987792969, "cut_end_time": 426.6000612792969, "narration": {"text": "It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.", "cut_start_time": 369.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 377.43006616210937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cbut some of it was my mother\u2019s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn\u2019t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre \u2014 queer theatres, for that matter.\u201d\n\nIt was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.\u201d Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. \u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d\n\nHilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. \u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.", "start_byte": 58835, "end_byte": 58883, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 427.2749914550781, "cut_end_time": 429.77005395507814, "narration": {"text": "It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.", "cut_start_time": 369.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 377.43006616210937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "It was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.\n\n\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.\u201d<|quote_end|> Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. \u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d\n\nHilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. \u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"held": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "squinted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d", "start_byte": 58990, "end_byte": 59065, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 435.315, "cut_end_time": 438.94, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "It was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.\n\n\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.\u201d Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. \u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"held": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "squinted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d", "start_byte": 59117, "end_byte": 59263, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.07500000000005, "cut_end_time": 449.96000000000004, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have some champagne for you, too. I don\u2019t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it\u2019s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.\u201d Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. \u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d\n\nHilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He\u2019s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel \u2014 do you remember Angel?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"lowered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "carefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d", "start_byte": 59265, "end_byte": 59501, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 450.7349938964844, "cut_end_time": 463.7400563964844, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThank you. But I don\u2019t like it so well as this.\u201d Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. \u201cYou have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?\u201d\n\nHilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. \u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He\u2019s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel \u2014 do you remember Angel?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger\u2019s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby\u2019s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cWell, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He\u2019s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel \u2014 do you remember Angel?\u201d", "start_byte": 59503, "end_byte": 59696, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 464.30498657226565, "cut_end_time": 474.7401115722656, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead \u2014 but perhaps you don\u2019t remember her?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He\u2019s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel \u2014 do you remember Angel?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cPerfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger\u2019s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby\u2019s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cPerfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?\u201d", "start_byte": 59698, "end_byte": 59766, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 474.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 477.6500771484375, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDon\u2019t I, though! I\u2019m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o\u2019clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that\u2019s saying a good deal.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He\u2019s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel \u2014 do you remember Angel?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cPerfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger\u2019s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby\u2019s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cHow jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?\u201d", "start_byte": 60523, "end_byte": 60721, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 518.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 529.6400478515625, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger\u2019s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby\u2019s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.\u201d\n\nBartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh. <|quote_start|>\u201cHow jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIndeed I do. Come, we\u2019ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.\u201d\n\nHilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.\n\n\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,\u201d he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; \u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "low": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "happy": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cIndeed I do. Come, we\u2019ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.\u201d", "start_byte": 60723, "end_byte": 60803, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 530.1949829101562, "cut_end_time": 534.5500454101563, "narration": {"text": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh.", "cut_start_time": 512.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 518.1500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger\u2019s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby\u2019s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.\u201d\n\nBartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh. \u201cHow jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIndeed I do. Come, we\u2019ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.\n\n\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,\u201d he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; \u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d\n\nHilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "low": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "happy": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,", "start_byte": 60924, "end_byte": 60967, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 540.644990234375, "cut_end_time": 542.900052734375, "narration": {"text": "Hilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.", "cut_start_time": 534.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 539.7900380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh. \u201cHow jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I do. Come, we\u2019ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.\u201d\n\nHilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,\u201d<|quote_end|> he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; \u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d\n\nHilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.\n\n\u201cI think we did,\u201d she answered demurely. \u201cIt was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d", "start_byte": 61059, "end_byte": 61168, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 547.4149731445312, "cut_end_time": 552.9200356445313, "narration": {"text": "Hilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.", "cut_start_time": 553.9249926757813, "cut_end_time": 560.2000551757812, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHow jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I do. Come, we\u2019ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.\u201d\n\nHilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.\n\n\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,\u201d he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; <|quote_start|>\u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.\n\n\u201cI think we did,\u201d she answered demurely. \u201cIt was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.\u201d\n\n\u201cI expect it was the last franc I had. What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic. She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I would have given her some of mine off my back, if I could. I had enough and to spare then", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cIt was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.\u201d", "start_byte": 61352, "end_byte": 61523, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 563.5050122070313, "cut_end_time": 572.4300747070313, "narration": {"text": "Hilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.", "cut_start_time": 553.9249926757813, "cut_end_time": 560.2000551757812, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhat a warm, soft spring evening that was,\u201d he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; \u201cand the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn\u2019t we?\u201d\n\nHilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.\n\n\u201cI think we did,\u201d she answered demurely. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI expect it was the last franc I had. What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic. She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I would have given her some of mine off my back, if I could. I had enough and to spare then,\u201d Bartley mused, and looked thoughtfully at his cigar.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "demurely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cGod give you a happy love!", "start_byte": 62032, "end_byte": 62059, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 603.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 605.3700771484375, "narration": {"text": " he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.", "cut_start_time": 659.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 662.82008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI expect it was the last franc I had. What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic. She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I would have given her some of mine off my back, if I could. I had enough and to spare then,\u201d Bartley mused, and looked thoughtfully at his cigar.\n\nThey were both remembering what the woman had said when she took the money: <|quote_start|>\u201cGod give you a happy love!\u201d<|quote_end|> It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar: it had come out of the depths of the poor creature\u2019s sorrow, vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm. When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time. He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cDear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten \u2014 I was back there. It was very jolly,", "start_byte": 62906, "end_byte": 62997, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 654.3049731445312, "cut_end_time": 659.6100981445313, "narration": {"text": " he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.", "cut_start_time": 659.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 662.82008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201d It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar: it had come out of the depths of the poor creature\u2019s sorrow, vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm. When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time. He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so \u2014 \n\nBartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her. <|quote_start|>\u201cDear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten \u2014 I was back there. It was very jolly,\u201d<|quote_end|> he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.\n\nHilda laughed and went over to the piano. \u201cWell, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I\u2019m coming on.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.\u201d\n\nHe was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "lazily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cWell, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I\u2019m coming on.\u201d", "start_byte": 63104, "end_byte": 63258, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 666.0550097656251, "cut_end_time": 674.510009765625, "narration": {"text": "He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.", "cut_start_time": 680.7450073242188, "cut_end_time": 687.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201d It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar: it had come out of the depths of the poor creature\u2019s sorrow, vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm. When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time. He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so \u2014 \n\nBartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her. \u201cDear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten \u2014 I was back there. It was very jolly,\u201d he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.\n\nHilda laughed and went over to the piano. <|quote_start|>\u201cWell, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I\u2019m coming on.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.\u201d\n\nHe was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.\n\n\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.\u201d", "start_byte": 63260, "end_byte": 63352, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 675.2849877929688, "cut_end_time": 680.0801127929687, "narration": {"text": "He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.", "cut_start_time": 680.7450073242188, "cut_end_time": 687.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Bartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her. \u201cDear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten \u2014 I was back there. It was very jolly,\u201d he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.\n\nHilda laughed and went over to the piano. \u201cWell, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I\u2019m coming on.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.\n\n\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d\n\nShe sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d", "start_byte": 63500, "end_byte": 63697, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 688.0150268554688, "cut_end_time": 699.5500268554688, "narration": {"text": "He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.", "cut_start_time": 680.7450073242188, "cut_end_time": 687.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I\u2019m coming on.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.\u201d\n\nHe was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.\n\n\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d", "start_byte": 63797, "end_byte": 63861, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 706.4249902343751, "cut_end_time": 710.120115234375, "narration": {"text": "She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.", "cut_start_time": 700.1249829101563, "cut_end_time": 705.8700454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.\n\n\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d\n\nShe sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d", "start_byte": 63863, "end_byte": 64056, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 710.6750244140625, "cut_end_time": 721.2200244140626, "narration": {"text": "She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.", "cut_start_time": 700.1249829101563, "cut_end_time": 705.8700454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.\n\n\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d\n\nShe sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.\n\n\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d", "start_byte": 64077, "end_byte": 64108, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 722.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 723.730115234375, "narration": {"text": "She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.", "cut_start_time": 700.1249829101563, "cut_end_time": 705.8700454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, it isn\u2019t a dress-up part. He doesn\u2019t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he\u2019s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.\u201d\n\nShe sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.\n\n\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. <|quote_start|>\u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d", "start_byte": 64182, "end_byte": 64245, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 727.8049975585938, "cut_end_time": 730.6501225585938, "narration": {"text": " She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "cut_start_time": 752.8149975585937, "cut_end_time": 756.5700600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.\n\n\u201cSing \u2018The Harp That Once,\u2019 Hilda. You used to sing it so well.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "narrative_information_pred": {"started": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d", "start_byte": 64298, "end_byte": 64395, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 734.1550268554688, "cut_end_time": 738.7100268554688, "narration": {"text": " She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "cut_start_time": 752.8149975585937, "cut_end_time": 756.5700600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. <|quote_start|>\u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. \u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said:", "narrative_information_pred": {"opened": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!", "start_byte": 64397, "end_byte": 64443, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 739.4049951171875, "cut_end_time": 741.6201201171875, "narration": {"text": " She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "cut_start_time": 752.8149975585937, "cut_end_time": 756.5700600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNonsense. Of course I can\u2019t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!\u201d\n\nAlexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d<|quote_end|> Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. \u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.", "start_byte": 64460, "end_byte": 64539, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 742.6250244140625, "cut_end_time": 747.4000869140625, "narration": {"text": " She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "cut_start_time": 752.8149975585937, "cut_end_time": 756.5700600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "Alexander laughed. \u201cAll the same, sing it, Hilda.\u201d\n\nHilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. \u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. <|quote_start|>\u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d<|quote_end|> He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. \u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: \u201cIt\u2019s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.\u201d\n\nFor a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.", "start_byte": 64601, "end_byte": 64643, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 750.6050024414063, "cut_end_time": 752.4500024414062, "narration": {"text": " She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square.", "cut_start_time": 752.8149975585937, "cut_end_time": 756.5700600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s really too warm in this room to sing. Don\u2019t you feel it?\u201d\n\nAlexander went over and opened the window for her. \u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. <|quote_start|>\u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d<|quote_end|> She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. \u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: \u201cIt\u2019s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.\u201d\n\nFor a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d", "start_byte": 64726, "end_byte": 64764, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 757.034970703125, "cut_end_time": 759.070095703125, "narration": {"text": "Alexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said:", "cut_start_time": 760.1350146484375, "cut_end_time": 765.9600771484376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAren\u2019t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can\u2019t I get a scarf or something?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk a theatre lady if she\u2019s afraid of drafts!\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. <|quote_start|>\u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: \u201cIt\u2019s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.\u201d\n\nFor a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.\u201d", "start_byte": 64881, "end_byte": 64932, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 766.6950073242188, "cut_end_time": 769.8300073242187, "narration": {"text": "Alexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said:", "cut_start_time": 760.1350146484375, "cut_end_time": 765.9600771484376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Hilda laughed. \u201cBut perhaps, as I\u2019m so warm \u2014 give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.\u201d He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. \u201cThere, that will do. It looks like a bib.\u201d She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. \u201cIsn\u2019t London a tomb on Sunday night?\u201d\n\nAlexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nFor a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.\n\nShe caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cHere, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.\u201d", "start_byte": 65406, "end_byte": 65460, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 797.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 799.7100576171875, "narration": {"text": "She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round.", "cut_start_time": 793.5850122070312, "cut_end_time": 796.9700122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.\n\nShe caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round. <|quote_start|>\u201cHere, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: \u201cYou are giving me a chance?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Take it and go. This isn\u2019t fair, you know. Good-night.\u201d\n\nAlexander unclenched the two hands at his sides. With one he threw down the window and with the other \u2014 still standing behind her \u2014 he drew her back against him.\n\nShe uttered a little cry, threw her arms over her head, and drew his face down to hers. \u201cAre you going to let me love you a little, Bartley?\u201d she whispered.", "narrative_information_pred": {"thrust": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\u201cYou are giving me a chance?\u201d", "start_byte": 65544, "end_byte": 65573, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 803.5949853515625, "cut_end_time": 804.8701103515625, "narration": {"text": "She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round.", "cut_start_time": 793.5850122070312, "cut_end_time": 796.9700122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.\n\nShe caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round. \u201cHere, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.\u201d\n\nBartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: <|quote_start|>\u201cYou are giving me a chance?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes. Take it and go. This isn\u2019t fair, you know. Good-night.\u201d\n\nAlexander unclenched the two hands at his sides. With one he threw down the window and with the other \u2014 still standing behind her \u2014 he drew her back against him.\n\nShe uttered a little cry, threw her arms over her head, and drew his face down to hers. \u201cAre you going to let me love you a little, Bartley?\u201d she whispered.\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nIt was the afternoon of the day before Christmas. Mrs. Alexander had been driving about all the morning, leaving presents at the houses of her friends. She lunched alone, and as she rose from the table she spoke to the butler:", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cYes. Take it and go. This isn\u2019t fair, you know. Good-night.\u201d", "start_byte": 65575, "end_byte": 65636, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 805.3950122070313, "cut_end_time": 809.0300747070313, "narration": {"text": "She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round.", "cut_start_time": 793.5850122070312, "cut_end_time": 796.9700122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.\n\nShe caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round. \u201cHere, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.\u201d\n\nBartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: \u201cYou are giving me a chance?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes. Take it and go. This isn\u2019t fair, you know. Good-night.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander unclenched the two hands at his sides. With one he threw down the window and with the other \u2014 still standing behind her \u2014 he drew her back against him.\n\nShe uttered a little cry, threw her arms over her head, and drew his face down to hers. \u201cAre you going to let me love you a little, Bartley?\u201d she whispered.\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nIt was the afternoon of the day before Christmas. Mrs. Alexander had been driving about all the morning, leaving presents at the houses of her friends. She lunched alone, and as she rose from the table she spoke to the butler:", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_04_cather_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 49}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..902c3568022008d7c0590b3efcfd3272167e1d9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d", "start_byte": 67223, "end_byte": 67423, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 84.17500122070312, "cut_end_time": 93.71006372070312, "narration": {"text": "When Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library.", "cut_start_time": 105.13499633789061, "cut_end_time": 108.87012133789062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "A little before three o\u2019clock Mrs. Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready. She pulled the window shades high, for the weather was dark and stormy, and there was little light, even in the streets. A foot of snow had fallen during the morning, and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice. Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open. She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in, covered with snow. He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"kissed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "joyfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d", "start_byte": 67425, "end_byte": 67499, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 94.35500183105468, "cut_end_time": 98.39000183105468, "narration": {"text": "When Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library.", "cut_start_time": 105.13499633789061, "cut_end_time": 108.87012133789062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "A little before three o\u2019clock Mrs. Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready. She pulled the window shades high, for the weather was dark and stormy, and there was little light, even in the streets. A foot of snow had fallen during the morning, and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice. Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open. She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in, covered with snow. He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair.\n\n\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d", "start_byte": 67501, "end_byte": 67629, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 98.8549966430664, "cut_end_time": 104.6100591430664, "narration": {"text": "When Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library.", "cut_start_time": 105.13499633789061, "cut_end_time": 108.87012133789062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "A little before three o\u2019clock Mrs. Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready. She pulled the window shades high, for the weather was dark and stormy, and there was little light, even in the streets. A foot of snow had fallen during the morning, and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice. Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open. She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in, covered with snow. He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair.\n\n\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d\n\n\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d", "start_byte": 67717, "end_byte": 67790, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 109.40500183105468, "cut_end_time": 112.88006433105468, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d\n\n\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d", "start_byte": 67792, "end_byte": 67821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 113.38500274658203, "cut_end_time": 114.67000274658203, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d\n\n\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d", "start_byte": 67823, "end_byte": 67869, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 115.3349981689453, "cut_end_time": 117.6300606689453, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?\u201d\n\n\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 67871, "end_byte": 67965, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 118.3549981689453, "cut_end_time": 122.50012316894531, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAn hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren\u2019t you frightfully extravagant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.\n\n\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d", "start_byte": 68001, "end_byte": 68165, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 125.30500091552734, "cut_end_time": 133.96000091552733, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNot for Christmas-time. I\u2019ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.\u201d\n\nWhen Alexander reappeared, he took his wife\u2019s arm and went with her into the library. \u201cWhen did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told him to put it there.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, I say, it\u2019s much the finest of the lot!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.\n\n\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d", "start_byte": 68317, "end_byte": 68617, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.22499450683594, "cut_end_time": 156.33005700683594, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat\u2019s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.\u201d\n\nBartley began to sort the greens. \u201cIt looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?\u201d\n\nHe climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd how fine that he\u2019s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.\u201d\n\n\u201cThose trains from Albany are always late. He\u2019ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don\u2019t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You\u2019ve had a busy morning and I don\u2019t want you to be tired to-night.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cAnd how fine that he\u2019s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.\u201d", "start_byte": 68619, "end_byte": 68853, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 156.96499938964843, "cut_end_time": 169.14006188964842, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.\n\n\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd how fine that he\u2019s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThose trains from Albany are always late. He\u2019ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don\u2019t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You\u2019ve had a busy morning and I don\u2019t want you to be tired to-night.\u201d\n\nAfter his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cThose trains from Albany are always late. He\u2019ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don\u2019t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You\u2019ve had a busy morning and I don\u2019t want you to be tired to-night.\u201d", "start_byte": 68855, "end_byte": 69072, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 170.19499450683594, "cut_end_time": 180.33011950683593, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money \u2014 something like ten thousand. He\u2019s coming on to settle up the estate. Won\u2019t it be jolly to have him?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how fine that he\u2019s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThose trains from Albany are always late. He\u2019ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don\u2019t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You\u2019ve had a busy morning and I don\u2019t want you to be tired to-night.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAfter his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cHello, Wilson. What luck! Come into the library. We are to have a lot of people to dinner to-night, and Winifred\u2019s lying down. You will excuse her, won\u2019t you? And now what about yourself? Sit down and tell me everything.\u201d", "start_byte": 70144, "end_byte": 70366, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 246.2349981689453, "cut_end_time": 258.4501231689453, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "After his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHello, Wilson. What luck! Come into the library. We are to have a lot of people to dinner to-night, and Winifred\u2019s lying down. You will excuse her, won\u2019t you? And now what about yourself? Sit down and tell me everything.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI think I\u2019d rather move about, if you don\u2019t mind. I\u2019ve been sitting in the train for a week, it seems to me.\u201d Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room. \u201cYou have been busy. Bartley, if I\u2019d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I\u2019d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cI think I\u2019d rather move about, if you don\u2019t mind. I\u2019ve been sitting in the train for a week, it seems to me.", "start_byte": 70368, "end_byte": 70477, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 259.34500488281253, "cut_end_time": 264.52000488281254, "narration": {"text": "He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.", "cut_start_time": 134.86499389648438, "cut_end_time": 141.44005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "After his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.\n\n\u201cHello, Wilson. What luck! Come into the library. We are to have a lot of people to dinner to-night, and Winifred\u2019s lying down. You will excuse her, won\u2019t you? And now what about yourself? Sit down and tell me everything.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI think I\u2019d rather move about, if you don\u2019t mind. I\u2019ve been sitting in the train for a week, it seems to me.\u201d<|quote_end|> Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room. \u201cYou have been busy. Bartley, if I\u2019d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I\u2019d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cThank you, Wilson. She\u2019ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I\u2019ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn\u2019t it?", "start_byte": 70944, "end_byte": 71210, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 290.8549890136719, "cut_end_time": 305.4500515136719, "narration": {"text": " Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room.", "cut_start_time": 265.13499633789064, "cut_end_time": 269.08012133789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room. \u201cYou have been busy. Bartley, if I\u2019d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I\u2019d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThank you, Wilson. She\u2019ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I\u2019ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|> Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. \u201cYou know, I\u2019m sailing the day after New Year\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cYou know, I\u2019m sailing the day after New Year\u2019s.\u201d", "start_byte": 71256, "end_byte": 71305, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 308.21500000000003, "cut_end_time": 310.21006250000005, "narration": {"text": " Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room.", "cut_start_time": 265.13499633789064, "cut_end_time": 269.08012133789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou have been busy. Bartley, if I\u2019d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I\u2019d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, Wilson. She\u2019ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I\u2019ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou know, I\u2019m sailing the day after New Year\u2019s.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.\u201d Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d", "start_byte": 71307, "end_byte": 71388, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 310.77500122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.12000122070316, "narration": {"text": " Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room.", "cut_start_time": 265.13499633789064, "cut_end_time": 269.08012133789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou have been busy. Bartley, if I\u2019d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I\u2019d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, Wilson. She\u2019ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I\u2019ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. \u201cYou know, I\u2019m sailing the day after New Year\u2019s.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.\u201d Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.\n\n\u201cHaven\u2019t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.", "start_byte": 71390, "end_byte": 71700, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.74498535156255, "cut_end_time": 332.07004785156255, "narration": {"text": " Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room.", "cut_start_time": 265.13499633789064, "cut_end_time": 269.08012133789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThank you, Wilson. She\u2019ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I\u2019ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. \u201cYou know, I\u2019m sailing the day after New Year\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.\u201d<|quote_end|> Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.\n\n\u201cHaven\u2019t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that doesn\u2019t amount to anything. It\u2019s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They\u2019ve crowded me too much on the cost. It\u2019s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there\u2019s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I\u2019ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cHaven\u2019t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?\u201d", "start_byte": 71765, "end_byte": 71871, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 336.46500000000003, "cut_end_time": 341.03000000000003, "narration": {"text": "When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.", "cut_start_time": 376.69500732421875, "cut_end_time": 382.2800073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAgain? Why, you\u2019ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan\u2019t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.\u201d Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHaven\u2019t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, that doesn\u2019t amount to anything. It\u2019s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They\u2019ve crowded me too much on the cost. It\u2019s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there\u2019s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I\u2019ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cThese pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,", "start_byte": 72631, "end_byte": 72678, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 382.9049890136719, "cut_end_time": 385.2200515136719, "narration": {"text": "When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.", "cut_start_time": 376.69500732421875, "cut_end_time": 382.2800073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, that doesn\u2019t amount to anything. It\u2019s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They\u2019ve crowded me too much on the cost. It\u2019s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there\u2019s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I\u2019ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.\u201d\n\nWhen Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThese pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said, smiling, \u201cand I am sure she meant them for you.\u201d\n\nBartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. \u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?\u201d He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. \u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "smiling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cand I am sure she meant them for you.\u201d", "start_byte": 72699, "end_byte": 72738, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 386.38498657226563, "cut_end_time": 387.96011157226565, "narration": {"text": "When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.", "cut_start_time": 376.69500732421875, "cut_end_time": 382.2800073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, that doesn\u2019t amount to anything. It\u2019s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They\u2019ve crowded me too much on the cost. It\u2019s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there\u2019s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I\u2019ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.\u201d\n\nWhen Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.\n\n\u201cThese pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,\u201d she said, smiling, <|quote_start|>\u201cand I am sure she meant them for you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. \u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?\u201d He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. \u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?\u201d He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?", "start_byte": 72835, "end_byte": 72950, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 393.7250024414063, "cut_end_time": 400.0900024414063, "narration": {"text": " He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief.", "cut_start_time": 400.9549890136719, "cut_end_time": 405.8001140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, that doesn\u2019t amount to anything. It\u2019s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They\u2019ve crowded me too much on the cost. It\u2019s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there\u2019s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I\u2019ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.\u201d\n\nWhen Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.\n\n\u201cThese pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,\u201d she said, smiling, \u201cand I am sure she meant them for you.\u201d\n\nBartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. <|quote_start|>\u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?\u201d<|quote_end|> He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. \u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?\u201d He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. \u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?", "start_byte": 73060, "end_byte": 73120, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 406.4850036621094, "cut_end_time": 409.0800036621094, "narration": {"text": " He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief.", "cut_start_time": 400.9549890136719, "cut_end_time": 405.8001140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThese pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,\u201d she said, smiling, \u201cand I am sure she meant them for you.\u201d\n\nBartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. \u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?\u201d He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. <|quote_start|>\u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?\u201d<|quote_end|> He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. \u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; it\u2019s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don\u2019t, always", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "in": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "his": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "arms": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}, "bent": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "back": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "lifting": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "giving": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "long": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d", "start_byte": 73210, "end_byte": 73378, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 414.44499511718755, "cut_end_time": 423.41005761718753, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Bartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. \u201cHave you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?\u201d He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. \u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?\u201d He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo; it\u2019s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don\u2019t, always.\u201d She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes.\n\nAlexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night", "narrative_information_pred": {"kiss": {"id": "0", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cNo; it\u2019s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don\u2019t, always.", "start_byte": 73380, "end_byte": 73527, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 424.44499511718755, "cut_end_time": 433.2600576171875, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201d He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. \u201cThey\u2019ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven\u2019t they?\u201d He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. \u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo; it\u2019s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don\u2019t, always.\u201d<|quote_end|> She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes.\n\nAlexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.", "start_byte": 73703, "end_byte": 73860, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 443.8650146484375, "cut_end_time": 452.6200146484375, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou are happy, aren\u2019t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I\u2019ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; it\u2019s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don\u2019t, always.\u201d She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes.\n\nAlexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d<|quote_end|> He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nos", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughing": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d", "start_byte": 74068, "end_byte": 74118, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 465.36501220703127, "cut_end_time": 468.51007470703127, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 \u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d", "start_byte": 74120, "end_byte": 74154, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 469.09500976562504, "cut_end_time": 470.93007226562503, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 \u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d", "start_byte": 74156, "end_byte": 74237, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 471.45501220703125, "cut_end_time": 476.1000747070313, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 \u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose", "start_byte": 74239, "end_byte": 74385, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 476.3850036621094, "cut_end_time": 485.7400661621094, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019m growing older, my dear; that\u2019s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 \u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. \u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d\n\nBartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her.", "narrative_information_pred": {"waved": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d", "start_byte": 74409, "end_byte": 74536, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 486.46501098632814, "cut_end_time": 494.84001098632814, "narration": {"text": "Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.", "cut_start_time": 437.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 443.4000710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201d He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: \u2014 \n\n\u201cWhere did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s old Flemish. Isn\u2019t it fine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. \u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d\n\nBartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. \u201cNot hard to me, Winifred,\u201d he whispered. \u201cNever, never hard to me.\u201d\n\nLeft alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. \u201cThat this,\u201d he groaned,", "narrative_information_pred": {"waved": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d", "start_byte": 74644, "end_byte": 74783, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 500.6749853515625, "cut_end_time": 508.0500478515625, "narration": {"text": "Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "cut_start_time": 495.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 500.1400576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose\u201d \u2014 he waved his hand \u2014 \u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. \u201cNot hard to me, Winifred,\u201d he whispered. \u201cNever, never hard to me.\u201d\n\nLeft alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. \u201cThat this,\u201d he groaned,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cNot hard to me, Winifred,", "start_byte": 74852, "end_byte": 74878, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 512.3050170898438, "cut_end_time": 513.7000170898438, "narration": {"text": "Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "cut_start_time": 495.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 500.1400576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. \u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d\n\nBartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. <|quote_start|>\u201cNot hard to me, Winifred,\u201d<|quote_end|> he whispered. \u201cNever, never hard to me.\u201d\n\nLeft alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. \u201cThat this,\u201d he groaned,", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cNever, never hard to me.\u201d", "start_byte": 74894, "end_byte": 74920, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 514.5249804687501, "cut_end_time": 516.10004296875, "narration": {"text": "Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "cut_start_time": 495.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 500.1400576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201cabove reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours \u2014 very, very proud, and just a little hard.\u201d\n\nWinifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. \u201cOh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.\u201d\n\nBartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. \u201cNot hard to me, Winifred,\u201d he whispered. <|quote_start|>\u201cNever, never hard to me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nLeft alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. \u201cThat this,\u201d he groaned,", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cthat this should have happened to me!\u201d", "start_byte": 76439, "end_byte": 76478, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 614.9550268554688, "cut_end_time": 617.5100893554687, "narration": {"text": "Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "cut_start_time": 495.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 500.1400576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Left alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. \u201cThat this,\u201d he groaned, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat this should have happened to me!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nOn New Year\u2019s day a thaw set in, and during the night torrents of rain fell. In the morning, the morning of Alexander\u2019s departure for England, the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfast-room. Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down. His wife sat at the table, watching him. She was pale and unnaturally calm. When Thomas brought the letters, Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly.\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life", "narrative_information_pred": {"groaned": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!", "start_byte": 76949, "end_byte": 77237, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 650.1149975585938, "cut_end_time": 666.0500600585938, "narration": {"text": "Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears.", "cut_start_time": 495.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 500.1400576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "On New Year\u2019s day a thaw set in, and during the night torrents of rain fell. In the morning, the morning of Alexander\u2019s departure for England, the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfast-room. Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down. His wife sat at the table, watching him. She was pale and unnaturally calm. When Thomas brought the letters, Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!\u201d<|quote_end|> Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. \u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. \u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d", "start_byte": 77321, "end_byte": 77421, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 671.3949951171875, "cut_end_time": 677.2500576171875, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "On New Year\u2019s day a thaw set in, and during the night torrents of rain fell. In the morning, the morning of Alexander\u2019s departure for England, the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfast-room. Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down. His wife sat at the table, watching him. She was pale and unnaturally calm. When Thomas brought the letters, Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly.\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!\u201d Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. <|quote_start|>\u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. \u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,", "start_byte": 77423, "end_byte": 77500, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 677.9149755859376, "cut_end_time": 681.8401005859375, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!\u201d Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. \u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d<|quote_end|> Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. \u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "soothingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d", "start_byte": 77535, "end_byte": 77587, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 684.4249780273437, "cut_end_time": 686.7301030273437, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!\u201d Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. \u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d\n\nHe put his arm about her. \u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "soothingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.", "start_byte": 77644, "end_byte": 77738, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 691.4349829101562, "cut_end_time": 696.8800454101563, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere\u2019s a note from old Wilson. He\u2019s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. \u2018The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.\u2019 Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!\u201d Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. \u201cThis is a nasty sort of day to sail. I\u2019ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. \u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. <|quote_start|>\u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d<|quote_end|> He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d\n\nHe put his arm about her. \u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d", "start_byte": 77842, "end_byte": 77954, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 703.5849731445313, "cut_end_time": 709.7900981445313, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat would only mean starting twice. It wouldn\u2019t really help you out at all,\u201d Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. \u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. <|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe put his arm about her. \u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d\n\nShe looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride. \u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d", "start_byte": 77982, "end_byte": 78185, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 712.4650122070312, "cut_end_time": 725.0700122070313, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd you\u2019d come back late for all your engagements.\u201d\n\nBartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. \u201cI wish things would let me rest. I\u2019m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.\u201d He looked out at the storm-beaten river.\n\nWinifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d\n\nHe put his arm about her. <|quote_start|>\u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride. \u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d\n\nBartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.", "narrative_information_pred": {"put": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d", "start_byte": 78327, "end_byte": 78512, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 734.98498046875, "cut_end_time": 746.09010546875, "narration": {"text": "She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride.", "cut_start_time": 725.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 733.9200429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can\u2019t you remember that?\u201d\n\nHe put his arm about her. \u201cAll the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it\u2019s always a messy sort of patchwork. It\u2019s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?\u201d\n\nShe looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.\n\nPresently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. \u201cShall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.\u201d\n\nThomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cShall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?\u201d", "start_byte": 78745, "end_byte": 78788, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 763.1249951171875, "cut_end_time": 765.4600576171875, "narration": {"text": "Thomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand.", "cut_start_time": 770.7150073242187, "cut_end_time": 776.2000073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d\n\nBartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.\n\nPresently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. <|quote_start|>\u201cShall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.\u201d\n\nThomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand. \u201cIt never gets any easier, Winifred.\u201d\n\nThey both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. \u201cCourage,\u201d she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared.", "narrative_information_pred": {"made": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cYes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.\u201d", "start_byte": 78790, "end_byte": 78873, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 765.8949926757813, "cut_end_time": 769.9601176757812, "narration": {"text": "Thomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand.", "cut_start_time": 770.7150073242187, "cut_end_time": 776.2000073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.\u201d\n\nBartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.\n\nPresently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. \u201cShall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand. \u201cIt never gets any easier, Winifred.\u201d\n\nThey both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. \u201cCourage,\u201d she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\u201cIt never gets any easier, Winifred.\u201d", "start_byte": 78976, "end_byte": 79013, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 776.9949975585938, "cut_end_time": 778.9900600585938, "narration": {"text": "They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him.", "cut_start_time": 780.4849975585938, "cut_end_time": 788.3101225585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "Bartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.\n\nPresently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. \u201cShall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.\u201d\n\nThomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt never gets any easier, Winifred.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThey both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. \u201cCourage,\u201d she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared.", "narrative_information_pred": {"holding": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I\u2019ve gone.", "start_byte": 79618, "end_byte": 79702, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 816.81498046875, "cut_end_time": 820.44004296875, "narration": {"text": "They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him.", "cut_start_time": 780.4849975585938, "cut_end_time": 788.3101225585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. \u201cCourage,\u201d she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared. <|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I\u2019ve gone.\u201d<|quote_end|> He kissed her quickly several times, hurried out of the front door into the rain, and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy, dripping black horses. Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees. As the carriage turned up the hill, he lifted one hand and brought it down violently. \u201cThis time\u201d \u2014 he spoke aloud and through his set teeth \u2014 \u201cthis time I\u2019m going to end it!\u201d\n\nOn the afternoon of the third day out, Alexander was sitting well to the stern, on the windward side where the chairs were few, his rugs over him and the collar of his fur-lined coat turned up about his ears. The weather had so far been dark and raw. For two hours he had been watching the low, dirty sky and the beating of the heavy rain upon the iron-colored sea. There was a long, oily swell that made exercise laborious. The decks smelled of damp woolens, and the air was so humid that drops of moisture kept gathering upon his hair and mustache. He seldom moved except to brush them away. The great open spaces made him passive and the restlessness of the water quieted him. He intended during the voyage to decide upon a course of action, but he held all this away from him for the present and lay in a blessed gray oblivion. Deep down in him somewhere his resolution was weakening and strengthening, ebbing and flowing. The thing that perturbed him went on as steadily as his pulse, but he was almost unconscious of it. He was submerged in the vast impersonal grayness about him, and at intervals the sidelong roll of the boat measured off time like the ticking of a clock. He felt released from everything that troubled and perplexed him. It was as if he had tricked and outwitted torturing memories, had actually managed to get on board without them. He thought of nothing at all. If his mind now and again picked a face out of the grayness, it was Lucius Wilson\u2019s, or the face of an old schoolmate, forgotten for years; or it was the slim outline of a favorite greyhound he used to hunt jack-rabbits with when he was a boy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\u201cthis time I\u2019m going to end it!\u201d", "start_byte": 80089, "end_byte": 80121, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 841.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 843.5301127929688, "narration": {"text": "They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him.", "cut_start_time": 780.4849975585938, "cut_end_time": 788.3101225585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019ll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I\u2019ve gone.\u201d He kissed her quickly several times, hurried out of the front door into the rain, and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy, dripping black horses. Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees. As the carriage turned up the hill, he lifted one hand and brought it down violently. \u201cThis time\u201d \u2014 he spoke aloud and through his set teeth \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201cthis time I\u2019m going to end it!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nOn the afternoon of the third day out, Alexander was sitting well to the stern, on the windward side where the chairs were few, his rugs over him and the collar of his fur-lined coat turned up about his ears. The weather had so far been dark and raw. For two hours he had been watching the low, dirty sky and the beating of the heavy rain upon the iron-colored sea. There was a long, oily swell that made exercise laborious. The decks smelled of damp woolens, and the air was so humid that drops of moisture kept gathering upon his hair and mustache. He seldom moved except to brush them away. The great open spaces made him passive and the restlessness of the water quieted him. He intended during the voyage to decide upon a course of action, but he held all this away from him for the present and lay in a blessed gray oblivion. Deep down in him somewhere his resolution was weakening and strengthening, ebbing and flowing. The thing that perturbed him went on as steadily as his pulse, but he was almost unconscious of it. He was submerged in the vast impersonal grayness about him, and at intervals the sidelong roll of the boat measured off time like the ticking of a clock. He felt released from everything that troubled and perplexed him. It was as if he had tricked and outwitted torturing memories, had actually managed to get on board without them. He thought of nothing at all. If his mind now and again picked a face out of the grayness, it was Lucius Wilson\u2019s, or the face of an old schoolmate, forgotten for years; or it was the slim outline of a favorite greyhound he used to hunt jack-rabbits with when he was a boy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "through": {"id": "0", "type": "preposition", "confidence": 0}, "set": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_05_cather_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 52}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..dd9053631057e98797e997bce21e108f953c6412
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cOh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you\u2019re chilled through.\u201d", "start_byte": 86777, "end_byte": 87126, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 89.46500091552734, "cut_end_time": 106.40000091552734, "narration": {"text": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.", "cut_start_time": 107.04499938964844, "cut_end_time": 115.46006188964843, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Emerging at Euston at half-past three o\u2019clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. When Marie met him at the door, even her strong sense of the proprieties could not restrain her surprise and delight. She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda\u2019s living-room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you\u2019re chilled through.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.\n\n\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stood": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d", "start_byte": 87305, "end_byte": 87384, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 115.93499938964842, "cut_end_time": 119.35006188964843, "narration": {"text": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.", "cut_start_time": 107.04499938964844, "cut_end_time": 115.46006188964843, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you\u2019re chilled through.\u201d\n\nShe pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d\n\nBartley bent lower over the fire. \u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d\n\nHilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d", "start_byte": 87386, "end_byte": 87487, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 120.31499633789062, "cut_end_time": 125.27012133789061, "narration": {"text": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.", "cut_start_time": 107.04499938964844, "cut_end_time": 115.46006188964843, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you\u2019re chilled through.\u201d\n\nShe pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.\n\n\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d\n\nBartley bent lower over the fire. \u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d\n\nHilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.\n\n\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?\u201d she asked in a thin voice.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d", "start_byte": 87589, "end_byte": 87644, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 132.1850030517578, "cut_end_time": 134.5600030517578, "narration": {"text": "Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.", "cut_start_time": 141.82500427246094, "cut_end_time": 149.33000427246094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.\n\n\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley bent lower over the fire. \u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d\n\nHilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.\n\n\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?\u201d she asked in a thin voice.\n\nHe locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d", "start_byte": 87680, "end_byte": 87738, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 138.1850048828125, "cut_end_time": 140.9400673828125, "narration": {"text": "Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.", "cut_start_time": 141.82500427246094, "cut_end_time": 149.33000427246094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.\n\n\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d\n\nBartley bent lower over the fire. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.\n\n\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?\u201d she asked in a thin voice.\n\nHe locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 \n\n\u201cEverything!\u201d\n\nHilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bent": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?", "start_byte": 87875, "end_byte": 87899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 150.4849981689453, "cut_end_time": 151.8701231689453, "narration": {"text": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.", "cut_start_time": 194.34500183105467, "cut_end_time": 203.1700018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d\n\nAlexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d\n\nBartley bent lower over the fire. \u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d\n\nHilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?\u201d<|quote_end|> she asked in a thin voice.\n\nHe locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 \n\n\u201cEverything!\u201d\n\nHilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thin": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,", "start_byte": 88438, "end_byte": 88480, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 184.80500366210936, "cut_end_time": 186.66000366210938, "narration": {"text": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.", "cut_start_time": 194.34500183105467, "cut_end_time": 203.1700018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 \n\n\u201cEverything!\u201d\n\nHilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said tremulously. \u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,\u201d he answered roughly.\n\nHe rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "tremulously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d", "start_byte": 88504, "end_byte": 88541, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 188.1350048828125, "cut_end_time": 189.9100048828125, "narration": {"text": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.", "cut_start_time": 194.34500183105467, "cut_end_time": 203.1700018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 \n\n\u201cEverything!\u201d\n\nHilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,\u201d she said tremulously. <|quote_start|>\u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,\u201d he answered roughly.\n\nHe rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "tremulously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,", "start_byte": 88543, "end_byte": 88580, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 191.25499755859374, "cut_end_time": 192.98012255859373, "narration": {"text": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.", "cut_start_time": 194.34500183105467, "cut_end_time": 203.1700018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 \n\n\u201cEverything!\u201d\n\nHilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,\u201d she said tremulously. \u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,\u201d<|quote_end|> he answered roughly.\n\nHe rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "roughly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?", "start_byte": 88882, "end_byte": 88936, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 210.53500732421875, "cut_end_time": 213.22006982421874, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,\u201d she said tremulously. \u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,\u201d he answered roughly.\n\nHe rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d<|quote_end|> Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why now?\u201d she asked piteously, wringing her hands.\n\nHe ignored her question. \u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,\u201d he went on feverishly. \u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d", "start_byte": 88979, "end_byte": 89054, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 216.2350018310547, "cut_end_time": 221.22000183105467, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,\u201d he answered roughly.\n\nHe rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut why now?\u201d she asked piteously, wringing her hands.\n\nHe ignored her question. \u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,\u201d he went on feverishly. \u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d\n\nAt that word \u201cdeception,\u201d spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,", "start_byte": 89138, "end_byte": 89177, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 226.92499938964843, "cut_end_time": 228.88012438964844, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.\n\nHilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why now?\u201d she asked piteously, wringing her hands.\n\nHe ignored her question. <|quote_start|>\u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,\u201d<|quote_end|> he went on feverishly. \u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d\n\nAt that word \u201cdeception,\u201d spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "feverishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d", "start_byte": 89202, "end_byte": 89401, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 230.40500549316405, "cut_end_time": 242.24006799316405, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Hilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.\n\n\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?\u201d Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.\n\n\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why now?\u201d she asked piteously, wringing her hands.\n\nHe ignored her question. \u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,\u201d he went on feverishly. <|quote_start|>\u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAt that word \u201cdeception,\u201d spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.\n\n\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d\n\nHe dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "feverishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d", "start_byte": 89646, "end_byte": 89776, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 257.1549914550782, "cut_end_time": 263.70011645507816, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d\n\nAt that word \u201cdeception,\u201d spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. \u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d\n\nHe looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. \u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoken": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "self-contempt": {"id": "0", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d", "start_byte": 89830, "end_byte": 89912, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 267.9949890136719, "cut_end_time": 273.2101140136719, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "At that word \u201cdeception,\u201d spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.\n\n\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d\n\nHe dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. \u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d", "start_byte": 90087, "end_byte": 90141, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 285.3050048828125, "cut_end_time": 287.48006738281254, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d\n\nHe dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. \u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d\n\nHe looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d\n\nAlexander groaned. \u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d", "start_byte": 90143, "end_byte": 90210, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 288.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 293.2200661621094, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d\n\nHe dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. \u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d\n\nHe looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. \u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d\n\nAlexander groaned. \u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d", "start_byte": 90254, "end_byte": 90348, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.5749938964844, "cut_end_time": 301.6301188964844, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d\n\nHe looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. \u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander groaned. \u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d", "start_byte": 90369, "end_byte": 90484, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 303.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 310.1001127929688, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.\n\nShe crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. \u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d\n\nAlexander groaned. <|quote_start|>\u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve.", "narrative_information_pred": {"groaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?", "start_byte": 90486, "end_byte": 90514, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 310.87500244140625, "cut_end_time": 312.3900024414063, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d\n\nAlexander groaned. \u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d<|quote_end|> She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d", "start_byte": 90558, "end_byte": 90591, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.2749914550781, "cut_end_time": 316.82011645507816, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered: \u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d\n\nAlexander groaned. \u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. <|quote_start|>\u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. \u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d", "start_byte": 90799, "end_byte": 90846, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 329.79500244140627, "cut_end_time": 333.0400024414063, "narration": {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. \u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d\n\nHis hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves. \u201cYes, Hilda; I know that,\u201d he said simply.\n\nShe leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: \u2014 \n\n\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d", "start_byte": 90956, "end_byte": 91061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 340.0150146484375, "cut_end_time": 345.48001464843753, "narration": {"text": " she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve.", "cut_start_time": 334.3749938964844, "cut_end_time": 339.3801188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\u201d She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. \u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d\n\nShe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. <|quote_start|>\u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHis hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves. \u201cYes, Hilda; I know that,\u201d he said simply.\n\nShe leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: \u2014 \n\n\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"hurried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "pulling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cYes, Hilda; I know that,", "start_byte": 91135, "end_byte": 91160, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 350.0850134277344, "cut_end_time": 351.3800134277344, "narration": {"text": "Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.", "cut_start_time": 379.2350048828125, "cut_end_time": 387.83000488281255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.\n\n\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. \u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d\n\nHis hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, Hilda; I know that,\u201d<|quote_end|> he said simply.\n\nShe leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: \u2014 \n\n\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d\n\nBartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "simply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?", "start_byte": 91782, "end_byte": 91923, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 388.8649938964844, "cut_end_time": 398.5301188964844, "narration": {"text": "Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.", "cut_start_time": 379.2350048828125, "cut_end_time": 387.83000488281255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d\n\nBartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?\u201d<|quote_end|> She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. \u201cYou want me to say it?\u201d she whispered. \u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he said heavily.\n\nHilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. \u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"listened": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "intently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYou want me to say it?", "start_byte": 92001, "end_byte": 92024, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 404.6550134277344, "cut_end_time": 405.7800134277344, "narration": {"text": "Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth.", "cut_start_time": 417.2650085449219, "cut_end_time": 422.7400085449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d\n\nBartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.\n\n\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?\u201d She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou want me to say it?\u201d<|quote_end|> she whispered. \u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he said heavily.\n\nHilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. \u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d", "start_byte": 92041, "end_byte": 92166, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 407.2649877929688, "cut_end_time": 414.3401127929688, "narration": {"text": "Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth.", "cut_start_time": 417.2650085449219, "cut_end_time": 422.7400085449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.\n\n\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?\u201d She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. \u201cYou want me to say it?\u201d she whispered. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he said heavily.\n\nHilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. \u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d\n\nHilda sprang up like a flame. She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d", "start_byte": 92293, "end_byte": 92484, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 423.25499145507814, "cut_end_time": 434.70005395507815, "narration": {"text": "Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth.", "cut_start_time": 417.2650085449219, "cut_end_time": 422.7400085449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?\u201d She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. \u201cYou want me to say it?\u201d she whispered. \u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he said heavily.\n\nHilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda sprang up like a flame. She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d she gasped. \u201cIt\u2019s too late to ask that. Do you hear me, Bartley? It\u2019s too late. I won\u2019t promise. It\u2019s abominable of you to ask me. Keep away if you wish; when have I ever followed you? But, if you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. The shamefulness of your asking me to do that! If you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. Do you understand? Bartley, you\u2019re cowardly!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "through": {"id": "1", "type": "preposition", "confidence": 0}, "teeth": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 0}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I know I\u2019m cowardly. I\u2019m afraid of myself. I don\u2019t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don\u2019t dare trifle with it. It\u2019s getting the better of me. It\u2019s different now. I\u2019m growing older, and you\u2019ve got my young self here with you. It\u2019s through him that I\u2019ve come to wish for you all and all the time.", "start_byte": 93003, "end_byte": 93345, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 466.00499633789065, "cut_end_time": 485.8000588378907, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s too late to ask that. Do you hear me, Bartley? It\u2019s too late. I won\u2019t promise. It\u2019s abominable of you to ask me. Keep away if you wish; when have I ever followed you? But, if you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. The shamefulness of your asking me to do that! If you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. Do you understand? Bartley, you\u2019re cowardly!\u201d\n\nAlexander rose and shook himself angrily. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I know I\u2019m cowardly. I\u2019m afraid of myself. I don\u2019t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don\u2019t dare trifle with it. It\u2019s getting the better of me. It\u2019s different now. I\u2019m growing older, and you\u2019ve got my young self here with you. It\u2019s through him that I\u2019ve come to wish for you all and all the time.\u201d<|quote_end|> He took her roughly in his arms. \u201cDo you know what I mean?\u201d\n\nHilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. \u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d\n\nBartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "narrative_information_pred": {"rose": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "angrily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cDo you know what I mean?\u201d", "start_byte": 93380, "end_byte": 93406, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 487.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 488.56000244140625, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Alexander rose and shook himself angrily. \u201cYes, I know I\u2019m cowardly. I\u2019m afraid of myself. I don\u2019t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don\u2019t dare trifle with it. It\u2019s getting the better of me. It\u2019s different now. I\u2019m growing older, and you\u2019ve got my young self here with you. It\u2019s through him that I\u2019ve come to wish for you all and all the time.\u201d He took her roughly in his arms. <|quote_start|>\u201cDo you know what I mean?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. \u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d\n\nBartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "roughly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d", "start_byte": 93469, "end_byte": 93723, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 492.5249987792969, "cut_end_time": 508.6100612792969, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, I know I\u2019m cowardly. I\u2019m afraid of myself. I don\u2019t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don\u2019t dare trifle with it. It\u2019s getting the better of me. It\u2019s different now. I\u2019m growing older, and you\u2019ve got my young self here with you. It\u2019s through him that I\u2019ve come to wish for you all and all the time.\u201d He took her roughly in his arms. \u201cDo you know what I mean?\u201d\n\nHilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.\n\n\u201cJust something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful \u2014 can I never make you understand what that means to me?\u201d She pressed his shoulders gently. \u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "cry": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cJust something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful \u2014 can I never make you understand what that means to me?", "start_byte": 93851, "end_byte": 94114, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 516.70498046875, "cut_end_time": 532.49010546875, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "Hilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. \u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d\n\nBartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cJust something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful \u2014 can I never make you understand what that means to me?\u201d<|quote_end|> She pressed his shoulders gently. \u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d\n\nShe slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t cry, don\u2019t cry,", "start_byte": 94712, "end_byte": 94734, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 574.6249975585938, "cut_end_time": 576.0200600585938, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d\n\nShe slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t cry, don\u2019t cry,\u201d<|quote_end|> he whispered. \u201cWe\u2019ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I have forgotten everything but that already,\u201d she murmured. \u201cAh, your dear arms!\u201d\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nDuring the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard. He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession. He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays, and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cWe\u2019ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.\u201d", "start_byte": 94750, "end_byte": 94838, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 577.2050048828125, "cut_end_time": 581.6700048828126, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d\n\nShe slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t cry, don\u2019t cry,\u201d he whispered. <|quote_start|>\u201cWe\u2019ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI think I have forgotten everything but that already,\u201d she murmured. \u201cAh, your dear arms!\u201d\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nDuring the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard. He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession. He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays, and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home.\n\nThe day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cI think I have forgotten everything but that already,", "start_byte": 94840, "end_byte": 94894, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 583.12498046875, "cut_end_time": 585.82004296875, "narration": {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d\n\nShe slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t cry, don\u2019t cry,\u201d he whispered. \u201cWe\u2019ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI think I have forgotten everything but that already,\u201d<|quote_end|> she murmured. \u201cAh, your dear arms!\u201d\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nDuring the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard. He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession. He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays, and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home.\n\nThe day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 43}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..64735acd95c2b1c3e3526bee6329fbb82254f92b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cAre you busy this morning, Hilda?", "start_byte": 96393, "end_byte": 96427, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 104.52500183105468, "cut_end_time": 105.90006433105468, "narration": {"text": " he asked as he sat down, his hat and gloves in his hand.", "cut_start_time": 105.81500305175781, "cut_end_time": 108.94000305175781, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.\n\nWhen he reached Hilda\u2019s apartment she met him, fresh as the morning itself. Her rooms were flooded with sunshine and full of the flowers he had been sending her. She would never let him give her anything else.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAre you busy this morning, Hilda?\u201d<|quote_end|> he asked as he sat down, his hat and gloves in his hand.\n\n\u201cVery. I\u2019ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then you\u2019ve worked enough. And so have I. I\u2019ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It\u2019s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cVery. I\u2019ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 96487, "end_byte": 96581, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 109.70499847412108, "cut_end_time": 114.90006097412109, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "The day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.\n\nWhen he reached Hilda\u2019s apartment she met him, fresh as the morning itself. Her rooms were flooded with sunshine and full of the flowers he had been sending her. She would never let him give her anything else.\n\n\u201cAre you busy this morning, Hilda?\u201d he asked as he sat down, his hat and gloves in his hand.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cVery. I\u2019ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then you\u2019ve worked enough. And so have I. I\u2019ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It\u2019s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d", "start_byte": 96958, "end_byte": 97114, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 137.2949981689453, "cut_end_time": 144.8901231689453, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cVery. I\u2019ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then you\u2019ve worked enough. And so have I. I\u2019ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It\u2019s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.\n\nBartley rose and inspected her. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!\u201d She laughed as she looked about the room. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?", "start_byte": 97236, "end_byte": 97281, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 152.94499572753907, "cut_end_time": 154.98012072753906, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, then you\u2019ve worked enough. And so have I. I\u2019ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It\u2019s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d\n\nHilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.\n\nBartley rose and inspected her. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?\u201d<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\n\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!\u201d She laughed as she looked about the room. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!", "start_byte": 97294, "end_byte": 97415, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 156.09499267578124, "cut_end_time": 163.30005517578124, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, then you\u2019ve worked enough. And so have I. I\u2019ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It\u2019s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d\n\nHilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.\n\nBartley rose and inspected her. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?\u201d he asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!\u201d<|quote_end|> She laughed as she looked about the room. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d", "start_byte": 97459, "end_byte": 97618, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 165.79500427246094, "cut_end_time": 175.29006677246093, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I\u2019ll change my dress. I shan\u2019t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.\u201d\n\nHilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.\n\nBartley rose and inspected her. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!\u201d She laughed as she looked about the room. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d", "start_byte": 97620, "end_byte": 97753, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 176.2450030517578, "cut_end_time": 183.14000305175782, "narration": {"text": "Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.", "cut_start_time": 145.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 149.98000610351562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "Bartley rose and inspected her. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear some of those pink roses?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBut they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!\u201d She laughed as she looked about the room. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d", "start_byte": 97826, "end_byte": 97923, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 187.58500061035156, "cut_end_time": 192.32006311035155, "narration": {"text": "Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass.", "cut_start_time": 183.93499267578125, "cut_end_time": 187.15011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201d She laughed as she looked about the room. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. <|quote_start|>\u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d", "start_byte": 97995, "end_byte": 98039, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 197.05500122070313, "cut_end_time": 199.04000122070312, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That\u2019s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. <|quote_start|>\u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d", "start_byte": 98041, "end_byte": 98109, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 199.55499877929688, "cut_end_time": 202.84006127929686, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d", "start_byte": 98153, "end_byte": 98211, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 206.2650067138672, "cut_end_time": 208.65000671386719, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy won\u2019t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.\u201d\n\nHilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pushed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d", "start_byte": 98213, "end_byte": 98314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 209.57499511718748, "cut_end_time": 214.7500576171875, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. \u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d", "start_byte": 98316, "end_byte": 98356, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 215.6049932861328, "cut_end_time": 217.6800557861328, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, there are some things you can\u2019t do. There\u2019s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?\u201d\n\nBartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. \u201cHow gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the top of the glove up slowly. \u201cWhen did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know,\u201d Bartley announced suddenly.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know,", "start_byte": 98763, "end_byte": 98804, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.28499755859374, "cut_end_time": 244.94006005859376, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhen I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry. We\u2019ve plenty of time.\u201d\n\nThey found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know,\u201d<|quote_end|> Bartley announced suddenly. \u201cI\u2019ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven\u2019t felt so jolly this long while.\u201d\n\nHilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad. \u201cI think people were meant to be happy, a little,\u201d she said.\n\nThey had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven\u2019t felt so jolly this long while.\u201d", "start_byte": 98834, "end_byte": 98909, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 246.45500366210936, "cut_end_time": 250.42006616210938, "narration": {"text": "Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad.", "cut_start_time": 251.40500366210938, "cut_end_time": 254.50000366210938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "They found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know,\u201d Bartley announced suddenly. <|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven\u2019t felt so jolly this long while.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad. \u201cI think people were meant to be happy, a little,\u201d she said.\n\nThey had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cI think people were meant to be happy, a little,", "start_byte": 98978, "end_byte": 99027, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 255.03499267578124, "cut_end_time": 257.54011767578123, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "They found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not going until to-morrow, you know,\u201d Bartley announced suddenly. \u201cI\u2019ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven\u2019t felt so jolly this long while.\u201d\n\nHilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad. <|quote_start|>\u201cI think people were meant to be happy, a little,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said.\n\nThey had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s like that with us Londoners, too,", "start_byte": 99758, "end_byte": 99797, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 306.0850024414063, "cut_end_time": 308.06000244140625, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "They had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s like that with us Londoners, too,\u201d<|quote_end|> Hilda was saying. \u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d\n\nShe thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.\n\n\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.\u201d He patted her glove with his hand.", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d", "start_byte": 99817, "end_byte": 100071, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 309.38499511718754, "cut_end_time": 324.5700576171875, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "They had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s like that with us Londoners, too,\u201d Hilda was saying. <|quote_start|>\u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.\n\n\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.\u201d He patted her glove with his hand. \u201cYes, you are a plucky one.\u201d\n\nHilda sighed. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn\u2019t take pluck to fight for one\u2019s moment, but it takes pluck to go without \u2014 a lot. More than I have. I can\u2019t help it", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.", "start_byte": 100185, "end_byte": 100212, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 331.4750122070313, "cut_end_time": 333.1000122070313, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s like that with us Londoners, too,\u201d Hilda was saying. \u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d\n\nShe thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.\u201d<|quote_end|> He patted her glove with his hand. \u201cYes, you are a plucky one.\u201d\n\nHilda sighed. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn\u2019t take pluck to fight for one\u2019s moment, but it takes pluck to go without \u2014 a lot. More than I have. I can\u2019t help it,\u201d she added fiercely.\n\nAfter miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres \u2014 short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises \u2014 in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cYes, you are a plucky one.\u201d", "start_byte": 100249, "end_byte": 100277, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 335.3250036621094, "cut_end_time": 337.2300036621094, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d\n\nShe thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.\n\n\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.\u201d He patted her glove with his hand. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, you are a plucky one.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda sighed. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn\u2019t take pluck to fight for one\u2019s moment, but it takes pluck to go without \u2014 a lot. More than I have. I can\u2019t help it,\u201d she added fiercely.\n\nAfter miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres \u2014 short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises \u2014 in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I\u2019m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn\u2019t take pluck to fight for one\u2019s moment, but it takes pluck to go without \u2014 a lot. More than I have. I can\u2019t help it,", "start_byte": 100293, "end_byte": 100468, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 339.7549938964844, "cut_end_time": 351.5801188964844, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cEverything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.\u201d\n\nShe thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.\n\n\u201cYou are a plucky one, you.\u201d He patted her glove with his hand. \u201cYes, you are a plucky one.\u201d\n\nHilda sighed. <|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I\u2019m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn\u2019t take pluck to fight for one\u2019s moment, but it takes pluck to go without \u2014 a lot. More than I have. I can\u2019t help it,\u201d<|quote_end|> she added fiercely.\n\nAfter miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres \u2014 short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises \u2014 in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "fiercely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cSeems good to get back, doesn\u2019t it?", "start_byte": 101414, "end_byte": 101450, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 405.7050024414063, "cut_end_time": 407.4800649414063, "narration": {"text": "She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.", "cut_start_time": 325.6149951171875, "cut_end_time": 330.8901201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres \u2014 short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises \u2014 in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.\n\n[See \u201cThe Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes. Ed.] [I have placed it at the end for your convenience]\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSeems good to get back, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|> Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. \u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d", "start_byte": 101525, "end_byte": 101754, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 411.72501098632813, "cut_end_time": 424.95001098632815, "narration": {"text": " Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street.", "cut_start_time": 407.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 411.19006494140626, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres \u2014 short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises \u2014 in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.\n\n[See \u201cThe Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes. Ed.] [I have placed it at the end for your convenience]\n\n\u201cSeems good to get back, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. <|quote_start|>\u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,\u201d Hilda said thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,", "start_byte": 101756, "end_byte": 101889, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 425.8149987792969, "cut_end_time": 432.0900612792969, "narration": {"text": " Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street.", "cut_start_time": 407.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 411.19006494140626, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "[See \u201cThe Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes. Ed.] [I have placed it at the end for your convenience]\n\n\u201cSeems good to get back, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. \u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,\u201d<|quote_end|> Hilda said thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d", "start_byte": 101917, "end_byte": 102140, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.93500610351566, "cut_end_time": 446.03006860351564, "narration": {"text": " Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street.", "cut_start_time": 407.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 411.19006494140626, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. \u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,\u201d Hilda said thoughtfully.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, the sole\u2019s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We\u2019ve had five miles of \u2018Il Trovatore\u2019 now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d", "start_byte": 102142, "end_byte": 102406, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 446.88500732421875, "cut_end_time": 460.88000732421875, "narration": {"text": " Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street.", "cut_start_time": 407.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 411.19006494140626, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cLondon always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,\u201d Hilda said thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cVery well, the sole\u2019s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We\u2019ve had five miles of \u2018Il Trovatore\u2019 now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not tired at all. I was just wondering how people can ever die. Why did you remind me of the mummy? Life seems the strongest and most indestructible thing in the world. Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down there, going to good dinners and clubs and theatres, will be dead some day, and not care about anything? I don\u2019t believe it, and I know I shan\u2019t die, ever! You see, I feel too \u2014 too powerful!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cVery well, the sole\u2019s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We\u2019ve had five miles of \u2018Il Trovatore\u2019 now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?\u201d", "start_byte": 102408, "end_byte": 102647, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 461.5849853515625, "cut_end_time": 475.3201103515625, "narration": {"text": " Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street.", "cut_start_time": 407.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 411.19006494140626, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI hope so. Now let\u2019s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music\u2019s good there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I\u2019ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cVery well, the sole\u2019s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We\u2019ve had five miles of \u2018Il Trovatore\u2019 now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not tired at all. I was just wondering how people can ever die. Why did you remind me of the mummy? Life seems the strongest and most indestructible thing in the world. Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down there, going to good dinners and clubs and theatres, will be dead some day, and not care about anything? I don\u2019t believe it, and I know I shan\u2019t die, ever! You see, I feel too \u2014 too powerful!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_07_cather_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 27}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4b5ea48e141fd0b18ef92fa29df4a4069dd356a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cOf course I know, Bartley,", "start_byte": 113217, "end_byte": 113244, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 161.6150067138672, "cut_end_time": 162.82006921386719, "narration": {"text": " he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable.", "cut_start_time": 129.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 135.95012011718748, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\u201cCome in,\u201d he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable. \u201cWon\u2019t you sit down?\u201d\n\nHe was standing behind the table, turning over a pile of blueprints nervously. The yellow light from the student\u2019s lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smoking-jacket, but his flushed face and big, hard head were in the shadow. There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again, in the street below, anywhere but where she was.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOf course I know, Bartley,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said at last, \u201cthat after this you won\u2019t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That\u2019s all. Good-night; I\u2019m going now.\u201d She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.\n\nAlexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. \u201cSit down, Hilda; you\u2019re wet through. Let me take off your coat \u2014 and your boots; they\u2019re oozing water", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cthat after this you won\u2019t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That\u2019s all. Good-night; I\u2019m going now.", "start_byte": 113264, "end_byte": 113486, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 163.61499938964843, "cut_end_time": 175.75012438964842, "narration": {"text": " he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable.", "cut_start_time": 129.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 135.95012011718748, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\u201cCome in,\u201d he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable. \u201cWon\u2019t you sit down?\u201d\n\nHe was standing behind the table, turning over a pile of blueprints nervously. The yellow light from the student\u2019s lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smoking-jacket, but his flushed face and big, hard head were in the shadow. There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again, in the street below, anywhere but where she was.\n\n\u201cOf course I know, Bartley,\u201d she said at last, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat after this you won\u2019t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That\u2019s all. Good-night; I\u2019m going now.\u201d<|quote_end|> She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.\n\nAlexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. \u201cSit down, Hilda; you\u2019re wet through. Let me take off your coat \u2014 and your boots; they\u2019re oozing water.\u201d He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair. \u201cHere, put your feet on this stool. You don\u2019t mean to say you walked down \u2014 and without overshoes!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cSit down, Hilda; you\u2019re wet through. Let me take off your coat \u2014 and your boots; they\u2019re oozing water.", "start_byte": 113599, "end_byte": 113702, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 182.29500549316407, "cut_end_time": 187.88000549316405, "narration": {"text": " He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair.", "cut_start_time": 188.305, "cut_end_time": 192.14, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "He was standing behind the table, turning over a pile of blueprints nervously. The yellow light from the student\u2019s lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smoking-jacket, but his flushed face and big, hard head were in the shadow. There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again, in the street below, anywhere but where she was.\n\n\u201cOf course I know, Bartley,\u201d she said at last, \u201cthat after this you won\u2019t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That\u2019s all. Good-night; I\u2019m going now.\u201d She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.\n\nAlexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. <|quote_start|>\u201cSit down, Hilda; you\u2019re wet through. Let me take off your coat \u2014 and your boots; they\u2019re oozing water.\u201d<|quote_end|> He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair. \u201cHere, put your feet on this stool. You don\u2019t mean to say you walked down \u2014 and without overshoes!\u201d\n\nHilda hid her face in her hands. \u201cI was afraid to take a cab. Can\u2019t you see, Bartley, that I\u2019m terribly frightened? I\u2019ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don\u2019t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you\u2019d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won\u2019t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cHere, put your feet on this stool. You don\u2019t mean to say you walked down \u2014 and without overshoes!\u201d", "start_byte": 113784, "end_byte": 113883, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 192.57499877929686, "cut_end_time": 198.07012377929686, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthat after this you won\u2019t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That\u2019s all. Good-night; I\u2019m going now.\u201d She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.\n\nAlexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. \u201cSit down, Hilda; you\u2019re wet through. Let me take off your coat \u2014 and your boots; they\u2019re oozing water.\u201d He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair. <|quote_start|>\u201cHere, put your feet on this stool. You don\u2019t mean to say you walked down \u2014 and without overshoes!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda hid her face in her hands. \u201cI was afraid to take a cab. Can\u2019t you see, Bartley, that I\u2019m terribly frightened? I\u2019ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don\u2019t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you\u2019d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won\u2019t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cIs this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?", "start_byte": 114432, "end_byte": 114478, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 228.2649963378906, "cut_end_time": 230.11012133789063, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI was afraid to take a cab. Can\u2019t you see, Bartley, that I\u2019m terribly frightened? I\u2019ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don\u2019t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you\u2019d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won\u2019t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.\u201d\n\nAlexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket. <|quote_start|>\u201cIs this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?\u201d<|quote_end|> he asked unsteadily.\n\nShe was afraid to look up at him. \u201cDidn\u2019t \u2014 didn\u2019t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to \u2014 quit me?\u201d she asked. \u201cI came to tell you that I\u2019m willing to do as you asked me. But it\u2019s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.\u201d She put her hand out toward the fender.\n\nAlexander sat down on the arm of her chair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "unsteadily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cDidn\u2019t \u2014 didn\u2019t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to \u2014 quit me?", "start_byte": 114536, "end_byte": 114628, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 233.73500610351562, "cut_end_time": 239.66000610351563, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI was afraid to take a cab. Can\u2019t you see, Bartley, that I\u2019m terribly frightened? I\u2019ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don\u2019t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you\u2019d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won\u2019t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.\u201d\n\nAlexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket. \u201cIs this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?\u201d he asked unsteadily.\n\nShe was afraid to look up at him. <|quote_start|>\u201cDidn\u2019t \u2014 didn\u2019t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to \u2014 quit me?\u201d<|quote_end|> she asked. \u201cI came to tell you that I\u2019m willing to do as you asked me. But it\u2019s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.\u201d She put her hand out toward the fender.\n\nAlexander sat down on the arm of her chair. \u201cDid you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn\u2019t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI came to tell you that I\u2019m willing to do as you asked me. But it\u2019s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.", "start_byte": 114641, "end_byte": 114767, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 240.21500549316406, "cut_end_time": 247.14000549316407, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI was afraid to take a cab. Can\u2019t you see, Bartley, that I\u2019m terribly frightened? I\u2019ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don\u2019t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you\u2019d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won\u2019t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.\u201d\n\nAlexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket. \u201cIs this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?\u201d he asked unsteadily.\n\nShe was afraid to look up at him. \u201cDidn\u2019t \u2014 didn\u2019t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to \u2014 quit me?\u201d she asked. <|quote_start|>\u201cI came to tell you that I\u2019m willing to do as you asked me. But it\u2019s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.\u201d<|quote_end|> She put her hand out toward the fender.\n\nAlexander sat down on the arm of her chair. \u201cDid you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn\u2019t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you", "narrative_information_pred": {"put": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cThey never did to me.\u201d", "start_byte": 115297, "end_byte": 115320, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 278.2149914550781, "cut_end_time": 279.39005395507814, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDid you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn\u2019t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you.\u201d He paused. <|quote_start|>\u201cThey never did to me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve. \u201cOh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn\u2019t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn\u2019t have come.\u201d\n\nAlexander slipped his arm about her. \u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cOh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn\u2019t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn\u2019t have come.\u201d", "start_byte": 115389, "end_byte": 115508, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.7749938964844, "cut_end_time": 290.5900563964844, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDid you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn\u2019t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you.\u201d He paused. \u201cThey never did to me.\u201d\n\nHilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn\u2019t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn\u2019t have come.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander slipped his arm about her. \u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.\u201d He bent his face over her hair.\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d she whispered, \u2014 \u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "beautifully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.", "start_byte": 115547, "end_byte": 115817, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 293.5749987792969, "cut_end_time": 307.9301237792969, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDid you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn\u2019t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you.\u201d He paused. \u201cThey never did to me.\u201d\n\nHilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve. \u201cOh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn\u2019t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn\u2019t have come.\u201d\n\nAlexander slipped his arm about her. <|quote_start|>\u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.\u201d<|quote_end|> He bent his face over her hair.\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d she whispered, \u2014 \u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d\n\nAlexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.\n\n\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d", "start_byte": 115878, "end_byte": 115962, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 312.334990234375, "cut_end_time": 316.580115234375, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn\u2019t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn\u2019t have come.\u201d\n\nAlexander slipped his arm about her. \u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.\u201d He bent his face over her hair.\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d she whispered, \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.\n\n\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.", "start_byte": 116026, "end_byte": 116227, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 321.05498779296875, "cut_end_time": 332.02011279296875, "narration": {"text": "Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket.", "cut_start_time": 222.23499450683593, "cut_end_time": 227.48005700683592, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI didn\u2019t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn\u2019t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I\u2019ve watched that door all day. I\u2019ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.\u201d He bent his face over her hair.\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d she whispered, \u2014 \u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d\n\nAlexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d<|quote_end|> He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d", "start_byte": 116321, "end_byte": 116346, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 336.85499755859377, "cut_end_time": 338.14006005859375, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d\n\nAlexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.\n\n\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d", "start_byte": 116348, "end_byte": 116515, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 339.0649890136719, "cut_end_time": 347.74011401367187, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.\u201d\n\nAlexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.\n\n\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d", "start_byte": 116525, "end_byte": 116602, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 349.5750134277344, "cut_end_time": 354.1600759277344, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t mistaken. I\u2019ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d", "start_byte": 116632, "end_byte": 116656, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 356.84501464843754, "cut_end_time": 358.09001464843755, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. <|quote_start|>\u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d", "start_byte": 116658, "end_byte": 116675, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 358.6449987792969, "cut_end_time": 359.80006127929687, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d", "start_byte": 116677, "end_byte": 116725, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 360.52500000000003, "cut_end_time": 362.26000000000005, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201d He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. \u201cWhat am I to do, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d", "start_byte": 116727, "end_byte": 116959, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 363.0349975585938, "cut_end_time": 375.3400600585938, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat\u2019s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I\u2019m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I\u2019ll do it more completely. I\u2019m going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.\n\n\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d", "start_byte": 116988, "end_byte": 117048, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 377.7049926757813, "cut_end_time": 380.3501176757813, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I\u2019m too fond of him.\u201d\n\nAlexander moved restlessly. \u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. <|quote_start|>\u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.\n\n\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d", "start_byte": 117050, "end_byte": 117089, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 381.0350012207031, "cut_end_time": 383.1700637207031, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAre you joking, Hilda?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I\u2019m not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.\n\n\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d", "start_byte": 117352, "end_byte": 117532, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 397.29500854492187, "cut_end_time": 405.9600085449219, "narration": {"text": " He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees.", "cut_start_time": 332.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.4500036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, I know very well. I\u2019ve thought about it a great deal, and I\u2019ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It\u2019s because they can\u2019t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.\u201d\n\nAlexander flushed angrily. \u201cSo it\u2019s better to be at the mercy of a man you don\u2019t love?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder such circumstances, infinitely!\u201d\n\nThere was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe tied the knot of the last lacing and put her boot-heel down firmly. \u201cNo; I\u2019m telling you what I\u2019ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan\u2019t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan\u2019t be seeing you again.\u201d\n\nAlexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cNo; I\u2019m telling you what I\u2019ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan\u2019t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan\u2019t be seeing you again.\u201d", "start_byte": 117606, "end_byte": 117801, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 411.37501220703126, "cut_end_time": 421.70007470703126, "narration": {"text": "Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.", "cut_start_time": 422.6250036621094, "cut_end_time": 429.0000661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "There was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander\u2019s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.\n\n\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d\n\nShe tied the knot of the last lacing and put her boot-heel down firmly. <|quote_start|>\u201cNo; I\u2019m telling you what I\u2019ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan\u2019t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan\u2019t be seeing you again.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.\u201d His face grew troubled. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d He took her face between his hands and looked down into it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"put": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "firmly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.", "start_byte": 117931, "end_byte": 118047, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 430.2050146484375, "cut_end_time": 436.37007714843753, "narration": {"text": "Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.", "cut_start_time": 422.6250036621094, "cut_end_time": 429.0000661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHilda you\u2019d better think a while longer before you do that. I don\u2019t know what I ought to say, but I don\u2019t believe you\u2019d be happy; truly I don\u2019t. Aren\u2019t you trying to frighten me?\u201d\n\nShe tied the knot of the last lacing and put her boot-heel down firmly. \u201cNo; I\u2019m telling you what I\u2019ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan\u2019t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan\u2019t be seeing you again.\u201d\n\nAlexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.\u201d<|quote_end|> His face grew troubled. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. \u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?\u201d His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. \u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"started": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.", "start_byte": 118073, "end_byte": 118210, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.2049865722656, "cut_end_time": 445.94004907226565, "narration": {"text": "Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.", "cut_start_time": 422.6250036621094, "cut_end_time": 429.0000661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo; I\u2019m telling you what I\u2019ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan\u2019t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan\u2019t be seeing you again.\u201d\n\nAlexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.\u201d His face grew troubled. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d<|quote_end|> He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. \u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?\u201d His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. \u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d\n\nHilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. \u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"grew": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "softer": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?", "start_byte": 118272, "end_byte": 118331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 450.2750085449219, "cut_end_time": 453.8900085449219, "narration": {"text": "Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.", "cut_start_time": 422.6250036621094, "cut_end_time": 429.0000661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.\u201d His face grew troubled. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?\u201d<|quote_end|> His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. \u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d\n\nHilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. \u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d\n\nShe felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grew": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "softer": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d", "start_byte": 118388, "end_byte": 118482, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 458.245, "cut_end_time": 463.53000000000003, "narration": {"text": "Hilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled.", "cut_start_time": 464.5949853515625, "cut_end_time": 471.51004785156255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be so much alarmed if I didn\u2019t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don\u2019t do anything like that rashly.\u201d His face grew troubled. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. \u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?\u201d His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. <|quote_start|>\u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. \u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d\n\nShe felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.\n\n\u201cTry him again, Hilda. Try him once again.\u201d\n\nShe looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nOn Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man\u2019s head, with thick rumpled hair. \u201cCurious,\u201d he thought;", "narrative_information_pred": {"grew": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "softer": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d", "start_byte": 118604, "end_byte": 118676, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 472.1549914550782, "cut_end_time": 476.9800539550781, "narration": {"text": "Hilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled.", "cut_start_time": 464.5949853515625, "cut_end_time": 471.51004785156255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I\u2019d never have another hour\u2019s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.\u201d He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. \u201cYou see, you are different, Hilda. Don\u2019t you know you are?\u201d His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. \u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d\n\nHilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. <|quote_start|>\u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.\n\n\u201cTry him again, Hilda. Try him once again.\u201d\n\nShe looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nOn Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man\u2019s head, with thick rumpled hair. \u201cCurious,\u201d he thought;", "narrative_information_pred": {"felt": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 7}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cTry him again, Hilda. Try him once again.\u201d", "start_byte": 118744, "end_byte": 118787, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 481.99500122070316, "cut_end_time": 484.70000122070314, "narration": {"text": "She felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.", "cut_start_time": 478.09499267578127, "cut_end_time": 481.25011767578127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201d His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. \u201cSome women can do that sort of thing, but you \u2014 you can love as queens did, in the old time.\u201d\n\nHilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. \u201cOnly one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.\u201d\n\nShe felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTry him again, Hilda. Try him once again.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nShe looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nOn Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man\u2019s head, with thick rumpled hair. \u201cCurious,\u201d he thought; \u201cthat looked like Alexander, but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_09_cather_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 34}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..5281d7322fe0776957736ca889e6d9b400d36da0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cthat looked like Alexander, but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches?\u201d", "start_byte": 119221, "end_byte": 119307, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 36.56500061035156, "cut_end_time": 40.630063110351564, "narration": {"text": "The young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.", "cut_start_time": 656.604990234375, "cut_end_time": 660.010052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTry him again, Hilda. Try him once again.\u201d\n\nShe looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nOn Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man\u2019s head, with thick rumpled hair. \u201cCurious,\u201d he thought; <|quote_start|>\u201cthat looked like Alexander, but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was, indeed, Alexander.\n\nThat morning a telegram from Moorlock had reached him, telling him that there was serious trouble with the bridge and that he was needed there at once, so he had caught the first train out of New York. He had taken a seat in a day-coach to avoid the risk of meeting any one he knew, and because he did not wish to be comfortable. When the telegram arrived, Alexander was at his rooms on Tenth Street, packing his bag to go to Boston. On Monday night he had written a long letter to his wife, but when morning came he was afraid to send it, and the letter was still in his pocket. Winifred was not a woman who could bear disappointment. She demanded a great deal of herself and of the people she loved; and she never failed herself. If he told her now, he knew, it would be irretrievable. There would be no going back. He would lose the thing he valued most in the world; he would be destroying himself and his own happiness. There would be nothing for him afterward. He seemed to see himself dragging out a restless existence on the Continent \u2014 Cannes, Hy\u00e8res, Algiers, Cairo \u2014 among smartly dressed, disabled men of every nationality; forever going on journeys that led nowhere; hurrying to catch trains that he might just as well miss; getting up in the morning with a great bustle and splashing of water, to begin a day that had no purpose and no meaning; dining late to shorten the night, sleeping late to shorten the day.", "narrative_information_pred": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cIn July you will be in England.\u201d", "start_byte": 122682, "end_byte": 122715, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 250.69499572753907, "cut_end_time": 252.52005822753907, "narration": {"text": "The young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.", "cut_start_time": 656.604990234375, "cut_end_time": 660.010052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "And this, then, was to be the disaster that his old professor had foreseen for him: the crack in the wall, the crash, the cloud of dust. And he could not understand how it had come about. He felt that he himself was unchanged, that he was still there, the same man he had been five years ago, and that he was sitting stupidly by and letting some resolute offshoot of himself spoil his life for him. This new force was not he, it was but a part of him. He would not even admit that it was stronger than he; but it was more active. It was by its energy that this new feeling got the better of him. His wife was the woman who had made his life, gratified his pride, given direction to his tastes and habits. The life they led together seemed to him beautiful. Winifred still was, as she had always been, Romance for him, and whenever he was deeply stirred he turned to her. When the grandeur and beauty of the world challenged him \u2014 as it challenges even the most self-absorbed people \u2014 he always answered with her name. That was his reply to the question put by the mountains and the stars; to all the spiritual aspects of life. In his feeling for his wife there was all the tenderness, all the pride, all the devotion of which he was capable. There was everything but energy; the energy of youth which must register itself and cut its name before it passes. This new feeling was so fresh, so unsatisfied and light of foot. It ran and was not wearied, anticipated him everywhere. It put a girdle round the earth while he was going from New York to Moorlock. At this moment, it was tingling through him, exultant, and live as quicksilver, whispering, <|quote_start|>\u201cIn July you will be in England.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlready he dreaded the long, empty days at sea, the monotonous Irish coast, the sluggish passage up the Mersey, the flash of the boat train through the summer country. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling of rapid motion and to swift, terrifying thoughts. He was sitting so, his face shaded by his hand, when the Boston lawyer saw him from the siding at White River Junction.\n\nWhen at last Alexander roused himself, the afternoon had waned to sunset. The train was passing through a gray country and the sky overhead was flushed with a wide flood of clear color. There was a rose-colored light over the gray rocks and hills and meadows. Off to the left, under the approach of a weather-stained wooden bridge, a group of boys were sitting around a little fire. The smell of the wood smoke blew in at the window. Except for an old farmer, jogging along the highroad in his box-wagon, there was not another living creature to be seen. Alexander looked back wistfully at the boys, camped on the edge of a little marsh, crouching under their shelter and looking gravely at their fire. They took his mind back a long way, to a campfire on a sandbar in a Western river, and he wished he could go back and sit down with them. He could remember exactly how the world had looked then.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispering": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d", "start_byte": 129223, "end_byte": 129325, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 651.4350097656251, "cut_end_time": 656.000009765625, "narration": {"text": "The young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.", "cut_start_time": 656.604990234375, "cut_end_time": 660.010052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "After he had dressed, Alexander sat down at the window and drew into his lungs deep breaths of the pine-scented air. He had awakened with all his old sense of power. He could not believe that things were as bad with him as they had seemed last night, that there was no way to set them entirely right. Even if he went to London at midsummer, what would that mean except that he was a fool? And he had been a fool before. That was not the reality of his life. Yet he knew that he would go to London.\n\nHalf an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.\n\nBut Alexander cut him short. \u201cWhen did you stop work?\u201d he asked sharply.\n\nThe young engineer looked confused. \u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you stop work?", "start_byte": 129422, "end_byte": 129446, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 662.225, "cut_end_time": 663.3000625, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d\n\nThe young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.\n\nBut Alexander cut him short. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did you stop work?\u201d<|quote_end|> he asked sharply.\n\nThe young engineer looked confused. \u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d", "start_byte": 129503, "end_byte": 129625, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 666.8649975585938, "cut_end_time": 672.9901225585937, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d\n\nThe young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.\n\nBut Alexander cut him short. \u201cWhen did you stop work?\u201d he asked sharply.\n\nThe young engineer looked confused. <|quote_start|>\u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. \u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d", "start_byte": 129627, "end_byte": 129759, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 673.8650073242188, "cut_end_time": 680.0200698242188, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d\n\nThe young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.\n\nBut Alexander cut him short. \u201cWhen did you stop work?\u201d he asked sharply.\n\nThe young engineer looked confused. \u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. \u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d", "start_byte": 129761, "end_byte": 129898, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 680.6650024414063, "cut_end_time": 687.4100649414063, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?\u201d\n\nThe young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.\n\nBut Alexander cut him short. \u201cWhen did you stop work?\u201d he asked sharply.\n\nThe young engineer looked confused. \u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. \u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d", "start_byte": 129942, "end_byte": 130137, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 690.9749877929688, "cut_end_time": 700.6600502929688, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "The young engineer looked confused. \u201cI haven\u2019t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn\u2019t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.\u201d\n\nAlexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 \n\nI may have to be here for some time. Can you come up at once? Urgent.\n\nBARTLEY.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d", "start_byte": 130139, "end_byte": 130329, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 701.2149877929688, "cut_end_time": 710.4100502929688, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You\u2019d have got it quick enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. \u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHave you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.\u201d\n\nAlexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 \n\nI may have to be here for some time. Can you come up at once? Urgent.\n\nBARTLEY.\n\nThe Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town. When they were seated in the carriage, Alexander began to question his assistant further. If it were true that the compression members showed strain, with the bridge only two thirds done, then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again. Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cHave you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.\u201d", "start_byte": 130331, "end_byte": 130391, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 711.1149877929688, "cut_end_time": 714.2200502929687, "narration": {"text": "Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 ", "cut_start_time": 715.194970703125, "cut_end_time": 719.060033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn\u2019t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn\u2019t like to take the responsibility of making it public.\u201d\n\nAlexander pushed back his chair and rose. \u201cAnything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you\u2019ve gone on adding weight.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHave you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: \u2014 \n\nI may have to be here for some time. Can you come up at once? Urgent.\n\nBARTLEY.\n\nThe Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town. When they were seated in the carriage, Alexander began to question his assistant further. If it were true that the compression members showed strain, with the bridge only two thirds done, then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again. Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cBut just now, when there is such competition,", "start_byte": 131413, "end_byte": 131459, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 771.6549902343751, "cut_end_time": 773.580052734375, "narration": {"text": "When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent.", "cut_start_time": 782.23498046875, "cut_end_time": 788.60010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "The Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town. When they were seated in the carriage, Alexander began to question his assistant further. If it were true that the compression members showed strain, with the bridge only two thirds done, then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again. Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates.\n\nAlexander grew impatient. \u201cThat\u2019s all true, Phil, but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length. It\u2019s all very well on paper, but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice. I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me. It\u2019s all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know they\u2019re not sound.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut just now, when there is such competition,\u201d<|quote_end|> the younger man demurred. \u201cAnd certainly that\u2019s the new line of development.\u201d\n\nAlexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply.\n\nWhen they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. \u201cI think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we\u2019ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried", "narrative_information_pred": {"demurred": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cAnd certainly that\u2019s the new line of development.\u201d", "start_byte": 131487, "end_byte": 131538, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 774.874970703125, "cut_end_time": 777.350033203125, "narration": {"text": "When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent.", "cut_start_time": 782.23498046875, "cut_end_time": 788.60010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat\u2019s all true, Phil, but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length. It\u2019s all very well on paper, but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice. I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me. It\u2019s all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know they\u2019re not sound.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut just now, when there is such competition,\u201d the younger man demurred. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd certainly that\u2019s the new line of development.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply.\n\nWhen they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. \u201cI think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we\u2019ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried", "narrative_information_pred": {"demurred": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cI think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we\u2019ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried.", "start_byte": 131720, "end_byte": 132067, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 788.9150146484375, "cut_end_time": 807.9400146484376, "narration": {"text": "When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent.", "cut_start_time": 782.23498046875, "cut_end_time": 788.60010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat\u2019s all true, Phil, but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length. It\u2019s all very well on paper, but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice. I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me. It\u2019s all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know they\u2019re not sound.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut just now, when there is such competition,\u201d the younger man demurred. \u201cAnd certainly that\u2019s the new line of development.\u201d\n\nAlexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply.\n\nWhen they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. <|quote_start|>\u201cI think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we\u2019ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried.\u201d<|quote_end|> Alexander put on his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm. \u201cDon\u2019t look so chopfallen, Dan. It\u2019s a jolt, but we\u2019ve got to face it. It isn\u2019t the end of the world, you know. Now we\u2019ll go out and call the men off quietly. They\u2019re already nervous, Horton tells me, and there\u2019s no use alarming them. I\u2019ll go with you, and we\u2019ll send the end riveters in first.\u201d\n\nAlexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the long span. They went deliberately, stopping to see what each gang was doing, as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection. When they reached the end of the river span, Alexander nodded to the superintendent, who quietly gave an order to the foreman. The men in the end gang picked up their tools and, glancing curiously at each other, started back across the bridge toward the river-bank. Alexander himself remained standing where they had been working, looking about him. It was hard to believe, as he looked back over it, that the whole great span was incurably disabled, was already as good as condemned, because something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sent": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t look so chopfallen, Dan. It\u2019s a jolt, but we\u2019ve got to face it. It isn\u2019t the end of the world, you know. Now we\u2019ll go out and call the men off quietly. They\u2019re already nervous, Horton tells me, and there\u2019s no use alarming them. I\u2019ll go with you, and we\u2019ll send the end riveters in first.\u201d", "start_byte": 132139, "end_byte": 132434, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 811.9749926757813, "cut_end_time": 826.5400551757813, "narration": {"text": "Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.", "cut_start_time": 1192.4150244140624, "cut_end_time": 1200.9500869140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. \u201cI think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we\u2019ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried.\u201d Alexander put on his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm. <|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t look so chopfallen, Dan. It\u2019s a jolt, but we\u2019ve got to face it. It isn\u2019t the end of the world, you know. Now we\u2019ll go out and call the men off quietly. They\u2019re already nervous, Horton tells me, and there\u2019s no use alarming them. I\u2019ll go with you, and we\u2019ll send the end riveters in first.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAlexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the long span. They went deliberately, stopping to see what each gang was doing, as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection. When they reached the end of the river span, Alexander nodded to the superintendent, who quietly gave an order to the foreman. The men in the end gang picked up their tools and, glancing curiously at each other, started back across the bridge toward the river-bank. Alexander himself remained standing where they had been working, looking about him. It was hard to believe, as he looked back over it, that the whole great span was incurably disabled, was already as good as condemned, because something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm.", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cYou see that carriage over there? That\u2019s Mrs. Alexander. They haven\u2019t found him yet. She got off the train this morning. Horton met her. She heard it in Boston yesterday \u2014 heard the newsboys crying it in the street.\u201d", "start_byte": 137392, "end_byte": 137609, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1115.0750439453125, "cut_end_time": 1128.3800439453123, "narration": {"text": "Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.", "cut_start_time": 1192.4150244140624, "cut_end_time": 1200.9500869140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "The work of recovering the dead went on all day and all the following night. By the next morning forty-eight bodies had been taken out of the river, but there were still twenty missing. Many of the men had fallen with the bridge and were held down under the debris. Early on the morning of the second day a closed carriage was driven slowly along the river-bank and stopped a little below the works, where the river boiled and churned about the great iron carcass which lay in a straight line two thirds across it. The carriage stood there hour after hour, and word soon spread among the crowds on the shore that its occupant was the wife of the Chief Engineer; his body had not yet been found. The widows of the lost workmen, moving up and down the bank with shawls over their heads, some of them carrying babies, looked at the rusty hired hack many times that morning. They drew near it and walked about it, but none of them ventured to peer within. Even half-indifferent sightseers dropped their voices as they told a newcomer: <|quote_start|>\u201cYou see that carriage over there? That\u2019s Mrs. Alexander. They haven\u2019t found him yet. She got off the train this morning. Horton met her. She heard it in Boston yesterday \u2014 heard the newsboys crying it in the street.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAt noon Philip Horton made his way through the crowd with a tray and a tin coffee-pot from the camp kitchen. When he reached the carriage he found Mrs. Alexander just as he had left her in the early morning, leaning forward a little, with her hand on the lowered window, looking at the river. Hour after hour she had been watching the water, the lonely, useless stone towers, and the convulsed mass of iron wreckage over which the angry river continually spat up its yellow foam.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cThose poor women out there, do they blame him very much?", "start_byte": 138092, "end_byte": 138149, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1158.2049658203125, "cut_end_time": 1161.4200283203124, "narration": {"text": "Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.", "cut_start_time": 1192.4150244140624, "cut_end_time": 1200.9500869140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "At noon Philip Horton made his way through the crowd with a tray and a tin coffee-pot from the camp kitchen. When he reached the carriage he found Mrs. Alexander just as he had left her in the early morning, leaning forward a little, with her hand on the lowered window, looking at the river. Hour after hour she had been watching the water, the lonely, useless stone towers, and the convulsed mass of iron wreckage over which the angry river continually spat up its yellow foam.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThose poor women out there, do they blame him very much?\u201d<|quote_end|> she asked, as she handed the coffee-cup back to Horton.\n\n\u201cNobody blames him, Mrs. Alexander. If any one is to blame, I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s I. I should have stopped work before he came. He said so as soon as I met him. I tried to get him here a day earlier, but my telegram missed him, somehow. He didn\u2019t have time really to explain to me. If he\u2019d got here Monday, he\u2019d have had all the men off at once. But, you see, Mrs. Alexander, such a thing never happened before. According to all human calculations, it simply couldn\u2019t happen.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid to tell me the worst, Mr. Horton. Don\u2019t leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying. If he is blamed, if he needs any one to speak for him,", "start_byte": 138854, "end_byte": 139036, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1201.735029296875, "cut_end_time": 1211.870029296875, "narration": {"text": "Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.", "cut_start_time": 1192.4150244140624, "cut_end_time": 1200.9500869140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNobody blames him, Mrs. Alexander. If any one is to blame, I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s I. I should have stopped work before he came. He said so as soon as I met him. I tried to get him here a day earlier, but my telegram missed him, somehow. He didn\u2019t have time really to explain to me. If he\u2019d got here Monday, he\u2019d have had all the men off at once. But, you see, Mrs. Alexander, such a thing never happened before. According to all human calculations, it simply couldn\u2019t happen.\u201d\n\nHorton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid to tell me the worst, Mr. Horton. Don\u2019t leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying. If he is blamed, if he needs any one to speak for him,\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, \u2014 \u201cif he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.\u201d She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.\n\nWhen he came back at four o\u2019clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cif he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.", "start_byte": 139159, "end_byte": 139209, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1219.1750048828123, "cut_end_time": 1222.5400048828124, "narration": {"text": " \u2014 for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, \u2014", "cut_start_time": 1212.4349560546875, "cut_end_time": 1218.7300810546874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid to tell me the worst, Mr. Horton. Don\u2019t leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying. If he is blamed, if he needs any one to speak for him,\u201d \u2014 for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, \u2014 <|quote_start|>\u201cif he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.\u201d<|quote_end|> She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.\n\nWhen he came back at four o\u2019clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.\n\nHorton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly: \u201cWon\u2019t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "sob": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cWon\u2019t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.\u201d", "start_byte": 139561, "end_byte": 139639, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1244.2749999999999, "cut_end_time": 1248.1000625, "narration": {"text": "Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly:", "cut_start_time": 1240.1650341796874, "cut_end_time": 1243.8700341796873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201d \u2014 for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, \u2014 \u201cif he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.\u201d She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.\n\nWhen he came back at four o\u2019clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.\n\nHorton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly: <|quote_start|>\u201cWon\u2019t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTake me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.\u201d\n\nThe group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming, and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher. They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached, and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her. She was taller than Horton, and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "pleadingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cTake me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.\u201d", "start_byte": 139641, "end_byte": 139700, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1248.5850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1252.0200244140624, "narration": {"text": "Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly:", "cut_start_time": 1240.1650341796874, "cut_end_time": 1243.8700341796873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201d She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.\n\nWhen he came back at four o\u2019clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.\n\nHorton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly: \u201cWon\u2019t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTake me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming, and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher. They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached, and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her. She was taller than Horton, and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen. \u201cAs tall as himself,\u201d some one whispered. Horton motioned to the men, and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment. Winifred followed them the half-mile to Horton\u2019s house. She walked quietly, without once breaking or stumbling. When the bearers put the stretcher down in Horton\u2019s spare bedroom, she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn. The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands. They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "pleadingly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cAs tall as himself,", "start_byte": 140083, "end_byte": 140103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1272.8250585937499, "cut_end_time": 1274.0200585937498, "narration": {"text": "Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly:", "cut_start_time": 1240.1650341796874, "cut_end_time": 1243.8700341796873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTake me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.\u201d\n\nThe group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming, and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher. They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached, and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her. She was taller than Horton, and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen. <|quote_start|>\u201cAs tall as himself,\u201d<|quote_end|> some one whispered. Horton motioned to the men, and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment. Winifred followed them the half-mile to Horton\u2019s house. She walked quietly, without once breaking or stumbling. When the bearers put the stretcher down in Horton\u2019s spare bedroom, she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn. The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands. They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cwill you take Mrs. Alexander the things she needs? She is going to do everything herself. Just stay about where you can hear her and go in if she wants you.\u201d", "start_byte": 140750, "end_byte": 140908, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1311.2749999999999, "cut_end_time": 1319.1000625, "narration": {"text": " he said to his wife, when he came out of the spare room half an hour later,", "cut_start_time": 1307.174951171875, "cut_end_time": 1310.790013671875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201d some one whispered. Horton motioned to the men, and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment. Winifred followed them the half-mile to Horton\u2019s house. She walked quietly, without once breaking or stumbling. When the bearers put the stretcher down in Horton\u2019s spare bedroom, she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn. The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands. They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill.\n\nHorton himself was almost as deeply perplexed. \u201cMamie,\u201d he said to his wife, when he came out of the spare room half an hour later, <|quote_start|>\u201cwill you take Mrs. Alexander the things she needs? She is going to do everything herself. Just stay about where you can hear her and go in if she wants you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nEverything happened as Alexander had foreseen in that moment of prescience under the river. With her own hands she washed him clean of every mark of disaster. All night he was alone with her in the still house, his great head lying deep in the pillow. In the pocket of his coat Winifred found the letter that he had written her the night before he left New York, water-soaked and illegible, but because of its length, she knew it had been meant for her.\n\nFor Alexander death was an easy creditor. Fortune, which had smiled upon him consistently all his life, did not desert him in the end. His harshest critics did not doubt that, had he lived, he would have retrieved himself. Even Lucius Wilson did not see in this accident the disaster he had once foretold.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_10_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..3de2f5e8cfb8c96efb2c5ec156e855177d41e3b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cHow good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You\u2019ve helped me over a good many Christmases.", "start_byte": 143271, "end_byte": 143409, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 92.39499908447264, "cut_end_time": 99.73006158447265, "narration": {"text": "He peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.", "cut_start_time": 108.64499786376953, "cut_end_time": 115.89012286376952, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Professor Wilson had been living in London for six years and he was just back from a visit to America. One afternoon, soon after his return, he put on his frock-coat and drove in a hansom to pay a call upon Hilda Burgoyne, who still lived at her old number, off Bedford Square. He and Miss Burgoyne had been fast friends for a long time. He had first noticed her about the corridors of the British Museum, where he read constantly. Her being there so often had made him feel that he would like to know her, and as she was not an inaccessible person, an introduction was not difficult. The preliminaries once over, they came to depend a great deal upon each other, and Wilson, after his day\u2019s reading, often went round to Bedford Square for his tea. They had much more in common than their memories of a common friend. Indeed, they seldom spoke of him. They saved that for the deep moments which do not come often, and then their talk of him was mostly silence. Wilson knew that Hilda had loved him; more than this he had not tried to know.\n\nIt was late when Wilson reached Hilda\u2019s apartment on this particular December afternoon, and he found her alone. She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable, as she had such a knack of making people comfortable.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHow good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You\u2019ve helped me over a good many Christmases.\u201d<|quote_end|> She smiled at him gayly.\n\n\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d\n\nHe peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.\n\nHilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. \u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d", "start_byte": 143437, "end_byte": 143551, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 101.8849966430664, "cut_end_time": 107.9800591430664, "narration": {"text": "He peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.", "cut_start_time": 108.64499786376953, "cut_end_time": 115.89012286376952, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Professor Wilson had been living in London for six years and he was just back from a visit to America. One afternoon, soon after his return, he put on his frock-coat and drove in a hansom to pay a call upon Hilda Burgoyne, who still lived at her old number, off Bedford Square. He and Miss Burgoyne had been fast friends for a long time. He had first noticed her about the corridors of the British Museum, where he read constantly. Her being there so often had made him feel that he would like to know her, and as she was not an inaccessible person, an introduction was not difficult. The preliminaries once over, they came to depend a great deal upon each other, and Wilson, after his day\u2019s reading, often went round to Bedford Square for his tea. They had much more in common than their memories of a common friend. Indeed, they seldom spoke of him. They saved that for the deep moments which do not come often, and then their talk of him was mostly silence. Wilson knew that Hilda had loved him; more than this he had not tried to know.\n\nIt was late when Wilson reached Hilda\u2019s apartment on this particular December afternoon, and he found her alone. She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable, as she had such a knack of making people comfortable.\n\n\u201cHow good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You\u2019ve helped me over a good many Christmases.\u201d She smiled at him gayly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.\n\nHilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. \u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d\n\nWilson took the cup gratefully. \u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "gayly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 143747, "end_byte": 143870, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 119.08499725341797, "cut_end_time": 125.12005975341796, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHow good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You\u2019ve helped me over a good many Christmases.\u201d She smiled at him gayly.\n\n\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d\n\nHe peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.\n\nHilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. <|quote_start|>\u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson took the cup gratefully. \u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.\u201d Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "carefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d", "start_byte": 143904, "end_byte": 144147, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 127.59500244140625, "cut_end_time": 141.26006494140626, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d\n\nHe peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.\n\nHilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. \u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d\n\nWilson took the cup gratefully. <|quote_start|>\u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.\u201d Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d\n\nWilson chuckled. \u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gratefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.", "start_byte": 144149, "end_byte": 144182, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 141.8350030517578, "cut_end_time": 143.8500030517578, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Hilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. \u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d\n\nWilson took the cup gratefully. \u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.\u201d<|quote_end|> Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d\n\nWilson chuckled. \u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "appreciatively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d", "start_byte": 144328, "end_byte": 144486, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 152.50500366210937, "cut_end_time": 160.45006616210938, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.\u201d Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson chuckled. \u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d She struck a match and lit one for him. \u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d", "start_byte": 144505, "end_byte": 144737, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 162.1249951171875, "cut_end_time": 175.6101201171875, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.\u201d Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d\n\nWilson chuckled. <|quote_start|>\u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d She struck a match and lit one for him. \u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d\n\n\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.", "start_byte": 144739, "end_byte": 144829, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 176.21500671386718, "cut_end_time": 180.45000671386717, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d\n\nWilson chuckled. \u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d<|quote_end|> She struck a match and lit one for him. \u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d\n\n\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d", "start_byte": 144871, "end_byte": 144923, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 183.51500366210936, "cut_end_time": 185.93000366210936, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d\n\nWilson chuckled. \u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d She struck a match and lit one for him. <|quote_start|>\u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d\n\n\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d", "start_byte": 144925, "end_byte": 145101, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 186.72499877929687, "cut_end_time": 197.79006127929688, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d She struck a match and lit one for him. \u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d\n\n\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d", "start_byte": 145103, "end_byte": 145132, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 198.3949932861328, "cut_end_time": 200.2601182861328, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.\u201d She struck a match and lit one for him. \u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.\u201d The Professor looked reflectively into the grate.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cI should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.\u201d", "start_byte": 145552, "end_byte": 145684, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 224.88500427246092, "cut_end_time": 231.94006677246094, "narration": {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.\u201d The Professor looked reflectively into the grate. <|quote_start|>\u201cI should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\nWilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry. \u201cWhy? Why, dear me, I don\u2019t know. She probably never thought of it.\u201d\n\nHilda bit her lip. \u201cI don\u2019t know what made me say that. I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "reflectively": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cWhy? Why, dear me, I don\u2019t know. She probably never thought of it.\u201d", "start_byte": 145849, "end_byte": 145917, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 242.63499755859374, "cut_end_time": 246.45006005859375, "narration": {"text": "Wilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry.", "cut_start_time": 234.45499999999998, "cut_end_time": 242.16, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.\u201d The Professor looked reflectively into the grate. \u201cI should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\nWilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhy? Why, dear me, I don\u2019t know. She probably never thought of it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda bit her lip. \u201cI don\u2019t know what made me say that. I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cI don\u2019t know what made me say that. I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.\u201d", "start_byte": 145938, "end_byte": 146041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 248.61500061035156, "cut_end_time": 253.79000061035157, "narration": {"text": "Wilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry.", "cut_start_time": 234.45499999999998, "cut_end_time": 242.16, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201d The Professor looked reflectively into the grate. \u201cI should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\nWilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry. \u201cWhy? Why, dear me, I don\u2019t know. She probably never thought of it.\u201d\n\nHilda bit her lip. <|quote_start|>\u201cI don\u2019t know what made me say that. I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"bit": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d", "start_byte": 146619, "end_byte": 146665, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.56498535156254, "cut_end_time": 293.8500478515625, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d\n\nHilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. <|quote_start|>\u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson\u2019s brow wrinkled. \u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d\n\nHilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently. \u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d\n\nWilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. \u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d", "start_byte": 146691, "end_byte": 146810, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.4150073242188, "cut_end_time": 302.9200073242188, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d\n\nHilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. \u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d\n\nWilson\u2019s brow wrinkled. <|quote_start|>\u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently. \u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d\n\nWilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. \u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d", "start_byte": 146870, "end_byte": 146943, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 306.8649890136719, "cut_end_time": 310.4800515136719, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d\n\nHilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. \u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d\n\nWilson\u2019s brow wrinkled. \u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d\n\nHilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. \u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d\n\nHilda considered vaguely. \u201cHas she grown much older?\u201d she asked at last.\n\n\u201cYes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. \u2018Forget thyself to marble\u2019; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness \u00e0 deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn\u2019t even go through the form of seeing people much. I\u2019m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"studied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "intently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d", "start_byte": 146994, "end_byte": 147273, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 314.534990234375, "cut_end_time": 331.16011523437504, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. \u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d\n\nWilson\u2019s brow wrinkled. \u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d\n\nHilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently. \u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d\n\nWilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHilda considered vaguely. \u201cHas she grown much older?\u201d she asked at last.\n\n\u201cYes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. \u2018Forget thyself to marble\u2019; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness \u00e0 deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn\u2019t even go through the form of seeing people much. I\u2019m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "himself": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "readjusted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cHas she grown much older?", "start_byte": 147301, "end_byte": 147327, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 334.2350134277344, "cut_end_time": 335.4200134277344, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Hilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently. \u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d\n\nWilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. \u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d\n\nHilda considered vaguely. <|quote_start|>\u201cHas she grown much older?\u201d<|quote_end|> she asked at last.\n\n\u201cYes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. \u2018Forget thyself to marble\u2019; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness \u00e0 deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn\u2019t even go through the form of seeing people much. I\u2019m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cPerhaps she\u2019s afraid of letting him out a little, of sharing him with somebody.\u201d", "start_byte": 147808, "end_byte": 147889, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 367.8649853515625, "cut_end_time": 371.8201103515625, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. \u2018Forget thyself to marble\u2019; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness \u00e0 deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn\u2019t even go through the form of seeing people much. I\u2019m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cPerhaps she\u2019s afraid of letting him out a little, of sharing him with somebody.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm. \u201cDear me, it takes a woman to think of that, now! I don\u2019t, you know, think we ought to be hard on her. More, even, than the rest of us she didn\u2019t choose her destiny. She underwent it. And it has left her chilled. As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence \u2014 well, it is a pretty brutal and stupid world, after all, you know.\u201d\n\nHilda leaned forward.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I know, I know. Only I can\u2019t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.\u201d", "start_byte": 148313, "end_byte": 148530, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 398.85499755859377, "cut_end_time": 412.64006005859375, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Wilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm. \u201cDear me, it takes a woman to think of that, now! I don\u2019t, you know, think we ought to be hard on her. More, even, than the rest of us she didn\u2019t choose her destiny. She underwent it. And it has left her chilled. As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence \u2014 well, it is a pretty brutal and stupid world, after all, you know.\u201d\n\nHilda leaned forward. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I know, I know. Only I can\u2019t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWilson nodded. \u201cOh, yes! He left an echo. The ripples go on in all of us. He belonged to the people who make the play, and most of us are only onlookers at the best. We shouldn\u2019t wonder too much at Mrs. Alexander. She must feel how useless it would be to stir about, that she may as well sit still; that nothing can happen to her after Bartley.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Hilda softly, \u201cnothing can happen to one after Bartley.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"leaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cnothing can happen to one after Bartley.\u201d", "start_byte": 148905, "end_byte": 148947, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 439.69498535156254, "cut_end_time": 441.78004785156253, "narration": {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, I know, I know. Only I can\u2019t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.\u201d\n\nWilson nodded. \u201cOh, yes! He left an echo. The ripples go on in all of us. He belonged to the people who make the play, and most of us are only onlookers at the best. We shouldn\u2019t wonder too much at Mrs. Alexander. She must feel how useless it would be to stir about, that she may as well sit still; that nothing can happen to her after Bartley.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Hilda softly, <|quote_start|>\u201cnothing can happen to one after Bartley.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThey both sat looking into the fire.\n\nTHE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes\n\nThere\u2019s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; And the music\u2019s not immortal; but the world has made it sweet And fulfilled it with the sunset glow; And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light; And they\u2019ve given it a glory and a part to play again In the Symphony that rules the day and the night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "softly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/1797.alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/1797/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..641f85d3fd062ef22b72b0104ced6716e37a48aa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,973 @@
+Alexander’s Bridge
+
+by Willa Cather
+
+And THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ALEXANDER’S BRIDGE by Willa Cather CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X EPILOGUE
+
+THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+ALEXANDER’S BRIDGE by Willa Cather
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street, looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston. He had lived there as a student, but for twenty years and more, since he had been Professor of Philosophy in a Western university, he had seldom come East except to take a steamer for some foreign port. Wilson was standing quite still, contemplating with a whimsical smile the slanting street, with its worn paving, its irregular, gravely colored houses, and the row of naked trees on which the thin sunlight was still shining. The gleam of the river at the foot of the hill made him blink a little, not so much because it was too bright as because he found it so pleasant. The few passers-by glanced at him unconcernedly, and even the children who hurried along with their school-bags under their arms seemed to find it perfectly natural that a tall brown gentleman should be standing there, looking up through his glasses at the gray housetops.
+
+The sun sank rapidly; the silvery light had faded from the bare boughs and the watery twilight was setting in when Wilson at last walked down the hill, descending into cooler and cooler depths of grayish shadow. His nostril, long unused to it, was quick to detect the smell of wood smoke in the air, blended with the odor of moist spring earth and the saltiness that came up the river with the tide. He crossed Charles Street between jangling street cars and shelving lumber drays, and after a moment of uncertainty wound into Brimmer Street. The street was quiet, deserted, and hung with a thin bluish haze. He had already fixed his sharp eye upon the house which he reasoned should be his objective point, when he noticed a woman approaching rapidly from the opposite direction. Always an interested observer of women, Wilson would have slackened his pace anywhere to follow this one with his impersonal, appreciative glance. She was a person of distinction he saw at once, and, moreover, very handsome. She was tall, carried her beautiful head proudly, and moved with ease and certainty. One immediately took for granted the costly privileges and fine spaces that must lie in the background from which such a figure could emerge with this rapid and elegant gait. Wilson noted her dress, too, — for, in his way, he had an eye for such things, — particularly her brown furs and her hat. He got a blurred impression of her fine color, the violets she wore, her white gloves, and, curiously enough, of her veil, as she turned up a flight of steps in front of him and disappeared.
+
+Wilson was able to enjoy lovely things that passed him on the wing as completely and deliberately as if they had been dug-up marvels, long anticipated, and definitely fixed at the end of a railway journey. For a few pleasurable seconds he quite forgot where he was going, and only after the door had closed behind her did he realize that the young woman had entered the house to which he had directed his trunk from the South Station that morning. He hesitated a moment before mounting the steps. “Can that,” he murmured in amazement, — “can that possibly have been Mrs. Alexander?”
+
+When the servant admitted him, Mrs. Alexander was still standing in the hallway. She heard him give his name, and came forward holding out her hand.
+
+“Is it you, indeed, Professor Wilson? I was afraid that you might get here before I did. I was detained at a concert, and Bartley telephoned that he would be late. Thomas will show you your room. Had you rather have your tea brought to you there, or will you have it down here with me, while we wait for Bartley?”
+
+Wilson was pleased to find that he had been the cause of her rapid walk, and with her he was even more vastly pleased than before. He followed her through the drawing-room into the library, where the wide back windows looked out upon the garden and the sunset and a fine stretch of silver-colored river. A harp-shaped elm stood stripped against the pale-colored evening sky, with ragged last year’s birds’ nests in its forks, and through the bare branches the evening star quivered in the misty air. The long brown room breathed the peace of a rich and amply guarded quiet. Tea was brought in immediately and placed in front of the wood fire. Mrs. Alexander sat down in a high-backed chair and began to pour it, while Wilson sank into a low seat opposite her and took his cup with a great sense of ease and harmony and comfort.
+
+“You have had a long journey, haven’t you?” Mrs. Alexander asked, after showing gracious concern about his tea. “And I am so sorry Bartley is late. He’s often tired when he’s late. He flatters himself that it is a little on his account that you have come to this Congress of Psychologists.”
+
+“It is,” Wilson assented, selecting his muffin carefully; “and I hope he won’t be tired tonight. But, on my own account, I’m glad to have a few moments alone with you, before Bartley comes. I was somehow afraid that my knowing him so well would not put me in the way of getting to know you.”
+
+“That’s very nice of you.” She nodded at him above her cup and smiled, but there was a little formal tightness in her tone which had not been there when she greeted him in the hall.
+
+Wilson leaned forward. “Have I said something awkward? I live very far out of the world, you know. But I didn’t mean that you would exactly fade dim, even if Bartley were here.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander laughed relentingly. “Oh, I’m not so vain! How terribly discerning you are.”
+
+She looked straight at Wilson, and he felt that this quick, frank glance brought about an understanding between them.
+
+He liked everything about her, he told himself, but he particularly liked her eyes; when she looked at one directly for a moment they were like a glimpse of fine windy sky that may bring all sorts of weather.
+
+“Since you noticed something,” Mrs. Alexander went on, “it must have been a flash of the distrust I have come to feel whenever I meet any of the people who knew Bartley when he was a boy. It is always as if they were talking of someone I had never met. Really, Professor Wilson, it would seem that he grew up among the strangest people. They usually say that he has turned out very well, or remark that he always was a fine fellow. I never know what reply to make.”
+
+Wilson chuckled and leaned back in his chair, shaking his left foot gently. “I expect the fact is that we none of us knew him very well, Mrs. Alexander. Though I will say for myself that I was always confident he’d do something extraordinary.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander’s shoulders gave a slight movement, suggestive of impatience. “Oh, I should think that might have been a safe prediction. Another cup, please?”
+
+“Yes, thank you. But predicting, in the case of boys, is not so easy as you might imagine, Mrs. Alexander. Some get a bad hurt early and lose their courage; and some never get a fair wind. Bartley” — he dropped his chin on the back of his long hand and looked at her admiringly — “Bartley caught the wind early, and it has sung in his sails ever since.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander sat looking into the fire with intent preoccupation, and Wilson studied her half-averted face. He liked the suggestion of stormy possibilities in the proud curve of her lip and nostril. Without that, he reflected, she would be too cold.
+
+“I should like to know what he was really like when he was a boy. I don’t believe he remembers,” she said suddenly. “Won’t you smoke, Mr. Wilson?”
+
+Wilson lit a cigarette. “No, I don’t suppose he does. He was never introspective. He was simply the most tremendous response to stimuli I have ever known. We didn’t know exactly what to do with him.”
+
+A servant came in and noiselessly removed the tea-tray. Mrs. Alexander screened her face from the firelight, which was beginning to throw wavering bright spots on her dress and hair as the dusk deepened.
+
+“Of course,” she said, “I now and again hear stories about things that happened when he was in college.”
+
+“But that isn’t what you want.” Wilson wrinkled his brows and looked at her with the smiling familiarity that had come about so quickly. “What you want is a picture of him, standing back there at the other end of twenty years. You want to look down through my memory.”
+
+She dropped her hands in her lap. “Yes, yes; that’s exactly what I want.”
+
+At this moment they heard the front door shut with a jar, and Wilson laughed as Mrs. Alexander rose quickly. “There he is. Away with perspective! No past, no future for Bartley; just the fiery moment. The only moment that ever was or will be in the world!”
+
+The door from the hall opened, a voice called “Winifred?” hurriedly, and a big man came through the drawing-room with a quick, heavy tread, bringing with him a smell of cigar smoke and chill out-of-doors air. When Alexander reached the library door, he switched on the lights and stood six feet and more in the archway, glowing with strength and cordiality and rugged, blond good looks. There were other bridge-builders in the world, certainly, but it was always Alexander’s picture that the Sunday Supplement men wanted, because he looked as a tamer of rivers ought to look. Under his tumbled sandy hair his head seemed as hard and powerful as a catapult, and his shoulders looked strong enough in themselves to support a span of any one of his ten great bridges that cut the air above as many rivers.
+
+After dinner Alexander took Wilson up to his study. It was a large room over the library, and looked out upon the black river and the row of white lights along the Cambridge Embankment. The room was not at all what one might expect of an engineer’s study. Wilson felt at once the harmony of beautiful things that have lived long together without obtrusions of ugliness or change. It was none of Alexander’s doing, of course; those warm consonances of color had been blending and mellowing before he was born. But the wonder was that he was not out of place there, — that it all seemed to glow like the inevitable background for his vigor and vehemence. He sat before the fire, his shoulders deep in the cushions of his chair, his powerful head upright, his hair rumpled above his broad forehead. He sat heavily, a cigar in his large, smooth hand, a flush of after-dinner color in his face, which wind and sun and exposure to all sorts of weather had left fair and clear-skinned.
+
+“You are off for England on Saturday, Bartley, Mrs. Alexander tells me.”
+
+“Yes, for a few weeks only. There’s a meeting of British engineers, and I’m doing another bridge in Canada, you know.”
+
+“Oh, every one knows about that. And it was in Canada that you met your wife, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Yes, at Allway. She was visiting her great-aunt there. A most remarkable old lady. I was working with MacKeller then, an old Scotch engineer who had picked me up in London and taken me back to Quebec with him. He had the contract for the Allway Bridge, but before he began work on it he found out that he was going to die, and he advised the committee to turn the job over to me. Otherwise I’d never have got anything good so early. MacKeller was an old friend of Mrs. Pemberton, Winifred’s aunt. He had mentioned me to her, so when I went to Allway she asked me to come to see her. She was a wonderful old lady.”
+
+“Like her niece?” Wilson queried.
+
+Bartley laughed. “She had been very handsome, but not in Winifred’s way. When I knew her she was little and fragile, very pink and white, with a splendid head and a face like fine old lace, somehow, — but perhaps I always think of that because she wore a lace scarf on her hair. She had such a flavor of life about her. She had known Gordon and Livingstone and Beaconsfield when she was young, — every one. She was the first woman of that sort I’d ever known. You know how it is in the West, — old people are poked out of the way. Aunt Eleanor fascinated me as few young women have ever done. I used to go up from the works to have tea with her, and sit talking to her for hours. It was very stimulating, for she couldn’t tolerate stupidity.”
+
+“It must have been then that your luck began, Bartley,” said Wilson, flicking his cigar ash with his long finger. “It’s curious, watching boys,” he went on reflectively. “I’m sure I did you justice in the matter of ability. Yet I always used to feel that there was a weak spot where some day strain would tell. Even after you began to climb, I stood down in the crowd and watched you with — well, not with confidence. The more dazzling the front you presented, the higher your facade rose, the more I expected to see a big crack zigzagging from top to bottom,” — he indicated its course in the air with his forefinger, — “then a crash and clouds of dust. It was curious. I had such a clear picture of it. And another curious thing, Bartley,” Wilson spoke with deliberateness and settled deeper into his chair, “is that I don’t feel it any longer. I am sure of you.”
+
+Alexander laughed. “Nonsense! It’s not I you feel sure of; it’s Winifred. People often make that mistake.”
+
+“No, I’m serious, Alexander. You’ve changed. You have decided to leave some birds in the bushes. You used to want them all.”
+
+Alexander’s chair creaked. “I still want a good many,” he said rather gloomily. “After all, life doesn’t offer a man much. You work like the devil and think you’re getting on, and suddenly you discover that you’ve only been getting yourself tied up. A million details drink you dry. Your life keeps going for things you don’t want, and all the while you are being built alive into a social structure you don’t care a rap about. I sometimes wonder what sort of chap I’d have been if I hadn’t been this sort; I want to go and live out his potentialities, too. I haven’t forgotten that there are birds in the bushes.”
+
+Bartley stopped and sat frowning into the fire, his shoulders thrust forward as if he were about to spring at something. Wilson watched him, wondering. His old pupil always stimulated him at first, and then vastly wearied him. The machinery was always pounding away in this man, and Wilson preferred companions of a more reflective habit of mind. He could not help feeling that there were unreasoning and unreasonable activities going on in Alexander all the while; that even after dinner, when most men achieve a decent impersonality, Bartley had merely closed the door of the engine-room and come up for an airing. The machinery itself was still pounding on.
+
+Bartley’s abstraction and Wilson’s reflections were cut short by a rustle at the door, and almost before they could rise Mrs. Alexander was standing by the hearth. Alexander brought a chair for her, but she shook her head.
+
+“No, dear, thank you. I only came in to see whether you and Professor Wilson were quite comfortable. I am going down to the music-room.”
+
+“Why not practice here? Wilson and I are growing very dull. We are tired of talk.”
+
+“Yes, I beg you, Mrs. Alexander,” Wilson began, but he got no further.
+
+“Why, certainly, if you won’t find me too noisy. I am working on the Schumann ‘Carnival,’ and, though I don’t practice a great many hours, I am very methodical,” Mrs. Alexander explained, as she crossed to an upright piano that stood at the back of the room, near the windows.
+
+Wilson followed, and, having seen her seated, dropped into a chair behind her. She played brilliantly and with great musical feeling. Wilson could not imagine her permitting herself to do anything badly, but he was surprised at the cleanness of her execution. He wondered how a woman with so many duties had managed to keep herself up to a standard really professional. It must take a great deal of time, certainly, and Bartley must take a great deal of time. Wilson reflected that he had never before known a woman who had been able, for any considerable while, to support both a personal and an intellectual passion. Sitting behind her, he watched her with perplexed admiration, shading his eyes with his hand. In her dinner dress she looked even younger than in street clothes, and, for all her composure and self-sufficiency, she seemed to him strangely alert and vibrating, as if in her, too, there were something never altogether at rest. He felt that he knew pretty much what she demanded in people and what she demanded from life, and he wondered how she squared Bartley. After ten years she must know him; and however one took him, however much one admired him, one had to admit that he simply wouldn’t square. He was a natural force, certainly, but beyond that, Wilson felt, he was not anything very really or for very long at a time.
+
+Wilson glanced toward the fire, where Bartley’s profile was still wreathed in cigar smoke that curled up more and more slowly. His shoulders were sunk deep in the cushions and one hand hung large and passive over the arm of his chair. He had slipped on a purple velvet smoking-coat. His wife, Wilson surmised, had chosen it. She was clearly very proud of his good looks and his fine color. But, with the glow of an immediate interest gone out of it, the engineer’s face looked tired, even a little haggard. The three lines in his forehead, directly above the nose, deepened as he sat thinking, and his powerful head drooped forward heavily. Although Alexander was only forty-three, Wilson thought that beneath his vigorous color he detected the dulling weariness of on-coming middle age.
+
+The next afternoon, at the hour when the river was beginning to redden under the declining sun, Wilson again found himself facing Mrs. Alexander at the tea-table in the library.
+
+“Well,” he remarked, when he was bidden to give an account of himself, “there was a long morning with the psychologists, luncheon with Bartley at his club, more psychologists, and here I am. I’ve looked forward to this hour all day.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander smiled at him across the vapor from the kettle. “And do you remember where we stopped yesterday?”
+
+“Perfectly. I was going to show you a picture. But I doubt whether I have color enough in me. Bartley makes me feel a faded monochrome. You can’t get at the young Bartley except by means of color.” Wilson paused and deliberated. Suddenly he broke out: “He wasn’t a remarkable student, you know, though he was always strong in higher mathematics. His work in my own department was quite ordinary. It was as a powerfully equipped nature that I found him interesting. That is the most interesting thing a teacher can find. It has the fascination of a scientific discovery. We come across other pleasing and endearing qualities so much oftener than we find force.”
+
+“And, after all,” said Mrs. Alexander, “that is the thing we all live upon. It is the thing that takes us forward.”
+
+Wilson thought she spoke a little wistfully. “Exactly,” he assented warmly. “It builds the bridges into the future, over which the feet of every one of us will go.”
+
+“How interested I am to hear you put it in that way. The bridges into the future — I often say that to myself. Bartley’s bridges always seem to me like that. Have you ever seen his first suspension bridge in Canada, the one he was doing when I first knew him? I hope you will see it sometime. We were married as soon as it was finished, and you will laugh when I tell you that it always has a rather bridal look to me. It is over the wildest river, with mists and clouds always battling about it, and it is as delicate as a cobweb hanging in the sky. It really was a bridge into the future. You have only to look at it to feel that it meant the beginning of a great career. But I have a photograph of it here.” She drew a portfolio from behind a bookcase. “And there, you see, on the hill, is my aunt’s house.”
+
+Wilson took up the photograph. “Bartley was telling me something about your aunt last night. She must have been a delightful person.”
+
+Winifred laughed. “The bridge, you see, was just at the foot of the hill, and the noise of the engines annoyed her very much at first. But after she met Bartley she pretended to like it, and said it was a good thing to be reminded that there were things going on in the world. She loved life, and Bartley brought a great deal of it in to her when he came to the house. Aunt Eleanor was very worldly in a frank, Early-Victorian manner. She liked men of action, and disliked young men who were careful of themselves and who, as she put it, were always trimming their wick as if they were afraid of their oil’s giving out. MacKeller, Bartley’s first chief, was an old friend of my aunt, and he told her that Bartley was a wild, ill-governed youth, which really pleased her very much. I remember we were sitting alone in the dusk after Bartley had been there for the first time. I knew that Aunt Eleanor had found him much to her taste, but she hadn’t said anything. Presently she came out, with a chuckle: ‘MacKeller found him sowing wild oats in London, I believe. I hope he didn’t stop him too soon. Life coquets with dashing fellows. The coming men are always like that. We must have him to dinner, my dear.’ And we did. She grew much fonder of Bartley than she was of me. I had been studying in Vienna, and she thought that absurd. She was interested in the army and in politics, and she had a great contempt for music and art and philosophy. She used to declare that the Prince Consort had brought all that stuff over out of Germany. She always sniffed when Bartley asked me to play for him. She considered that a newfangled way of making a match of it.”
+
+When Alexander came in a few moments later, he found Wilson and his wife still confronting the photograph. “Oh, let us get that out of the way,” he said, laughing. “Winifred, Thomas can bring my trunk down. I’ve decided to go over to New York to-morrow night and take a fast boat. I shall save two days.”
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+On the night of his arrival in London, Alexander went immediately to the hotel on the Embankment at which he always stopped, and in the lobby he was accosted by an old acquaintance, Maurice Mainhall, who fell upon him with effusive cordiality and indicated a willingness to dine with him. Bartley never dined alone if he could help it, and Mainhall was a good gossip who always knew what had been going on in town; especially, he knew everything that was not printed in the newspapers. The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself; among them a “History of Dancing,” a “History of Costume,” a “Key to Shakespeare’s Sonnets,” a study of “The Poetry of Ernest Dowson,” etc. Although Mainhall’s enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage-Englishman of American drama: tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. He spoke with an extreme Oxford accent, and when he was talking well, his face sometimes wore the rapt expression of a very emotional man listening to music. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else.
+
+While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell’s new comedy, “Bog Lights.”
+
+“It’s really quite the best thing MacConnell’s done,” he explained as they got into a hansom. “It’s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne’s the hit of the piece. Hugh’s written a delightful part for her, and she’s quite inexpressible. It’s been on only two weeks, and I’ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell’s box for tonight or there’d be no chance of our getting places. There’s everything in seeing Hilda while she’s fresh in a part. She’s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.”
+
+“Hilda Burgoyne!” Alexander exclaimed mildly. “Why, I haven’t heard of her for — years.”
+
+Mainhall laughed. “Then you can’t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It’s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she’s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London — but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,” — Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, — “do you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one.”
+
+Just then they drove up to the Duke of York’s, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage-box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander’s attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. “After all,” he reflected, “there’s small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn’t thought of me for years.” He felt the enthusiasm of the house at once, and in a few moments he was caught up by the current of MacConnell’s irresistible comedy. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey-girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation, every one smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing.
+
+“You see,” he murmured in Alexander’s ear, as the curtain fell on the first act, “one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish, — the Burgoynes have been stage people for generations, — and she has the Irish voice. It’s delightful to hear it in a London theatre. That laugh, now, when she doubles over at the hips — who ever heard it out of Galway? She saves her hand, too. She’s at her best in the second act. She’s really MacConnell’s poetic motif, you see; makes the whole thing a fairy tale.”
+
+The second act opened before Philly Doyle’s underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of potheen across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall’s sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half-skeptical interest. As Mainhall had said, she was the second act; the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together, in her mirthful brown eyes. When she began to dance, by way of showing the gossoons what she had seen in the fairy rings at night, the house broke into a prolonged uproar. After her dance she withdrew from the dialogue and retreated to the ditch wall back of Philly’s burrow, where she sat singing “The Rising of the Moon” and making a wreath of primroses for her donkey.
+
+When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.
+
+“MacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It’s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You’ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.”
+
+The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. “And have I done anything so fool as that, now?” he asked.
+
+“That’s what I was saying,” Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. “And you’ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn’t possibly be better, you know.”
+
+MacConnell grunted. “She’ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn’t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she’s more than like to do.”
+
+He nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.
+
+“Poor old Hugh,” Mainhall murmured. “He’s hit terribly hard. He’s been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more. She doesn’t take up with anybody, you know. Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning. One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe. I dare say it’s quite true that there’s never been any one else.” Mainhall vouched for her constancy with a loftiness that made Alexander smile, even while a kind of rapid excitement was tingling through him. Blinking up at the lights, Mainhall added in his luxurious, worldly way: “She’s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He’s another who’s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.”
+
+Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.
+
+Mainhall cut in impatiently.
+
+“I say, Sir Harry, the little girl’s going famously to-night, isn’t she?”
+
+Sir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. “Do you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she’s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.”
+
+He bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: “You know Lord Westmere, of course, — the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.”
+
+When they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing “The Cloak of Old Gaul.” In a moment Peggy was on the stage again, and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest. He even leaned forward over the rail a little. For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience. In the half-light he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously, recalling with amusement Sir Harry’s judicial frown. He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender, barefoot donkey-girl who slipped in and out of the play, singing, like some one winding through a hilly field. He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when, at the end of the play, she came again and again before the curtain, panting a little and flushed, her eyes dancing and her eager, nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement.
+
+When Alexander returned to his hotel — he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre — he had some supper brought up to his room, and it was late before he went to bed. He had not thought of Hilda Burgoyne for years; indeed, he had almost forgotten her. He had last written to her from Canada, after he first met Winifred, telling her that everything was changed with him — that he had met a woman whom he would marry if he could; if he could not, then all the more was everything changed for him. Hilda had never replied to his letter. He felt guilty and unhappy about her for a time, but after Winifred promised to marry him he really forgot Hilda altogether. When he wrote her that everything was changed for him, he was telling the truth. After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man. One night when he and Winifred were sitting together on the bridge, he told her that things had happened while he was studying abroad that he was sorry for, — one thing in particular, — and he asked her whether she thought she ought to know about them. She considered a moment and then said “No, I think not, though I am glad you ask me. You see, one can’t be jealous about things in general; but about particular, definite, personal things,” — here she had thrown her hands up to his shoulders with a quick, impulsive gesture — “oh, about those I should be very jealous. I should torture myself — I couldn’t help it.” After that it was easy to forget, actually to forget. He wondered to-night, as he poured his wine, how many times he had thought of Hilda in the last ten years. He had been in London more or less, but he had never happened to hear of her. “All the same,” he lifted his glass, “here’s to you, little Hilda. You’ve made things come your way, and I never thought you’d do it.
+
+“Of course,” he reflected, “she always had that combination of something homely and sensible, and something utterly wild and daft. But I never thought she’d do anything. She hadn’t much ambition then, and she was too fond of trifles. She must care about the theatre a great deal more than she used to. Perhaps she has me to thank for something, after all. Sometimes a little jolt like that does one good. She was a daft, generous little thing. I’m glad she’s held her own since. After all, we were awfully young. It was youth and poverty and proximity, and everything was young and kindly. I shouldn’t wonder if she could laugh about it with me now. I shouldn’t wonder — But they’ve probably spoiled her, so that she’d be tiresome if one met her again.”
+
+Bartley smiled and yawned and went to bed.
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+The next evening Alexander dined alone at a club, and at about nine o’clock he dropped in at the Duke of York’s. The house was sold out and he stood through the second act. When he returned to his hotel he examined the new directory, and found Miss Burgoyne’s address still given as off Bedford Square, though at a new number. He remembered that, in so far as she had been brought up at all, she had been brought up in Bloomsbury. Her father and mother played in the provinces most of the year, and she was left a great deal in the care of an old aunt who was crippled by rheumatism and who had had to leave the stage altogether. In the days when Alexander knew her, Hilda always managed to have a lodging of some sort about Bedford Square, because she clung tenaciously to such scraps and shreds of memories as were connected with it. The mummy room of the British Museum had been one of the chief delights of her childhood. That forbidding pile was the goal of her truant fancy, and she was sometimes taken there for a treat, as other children are taken to the theatre. It was long since Alexander had thought of any of these things, but now they came back to him quite fresh, and had a significance they did not have when they were first told him in his restless twenties. So she was still in the old neighborhood, near Bedford Square. The new number probably meant increased prosperity. He hoped so. He would like to know that she was snugly settled. He looked at his watch. It was a quarter past ten; she would not be home for a good two hours yet, and he might as well walk over and have a look at the place. He remembered the shortest way.
+
+It was a warm, smoky evening, and there was a grimy moon. He went through Covent Garden to Oxford Street, and as he turned into Museum Street he walked more slowly, smiling at his own nervousness as he approached the sullen gray mass at the end. He had not been inside the Museum, actually, since he and Hilda used to meet there; sometimes to set out for gay adventures at Twickenham or Richmond, sometimes to linger about the place for a while and to ponder by Lord Elgin’s marbles upon the lastingness of some things, or, in the mummy room, upon the awful brevity of others. Since then Bartley had always thought of the British Museum as the ultimate repository of mortality, where all the dead things in the world were assembled to make one’s hour of youth the more precious. One trembled lest before he got out it might somehow escape him, lest he might drop the glass from over-eagerness and see it shivered on the stone floor at his feet. How one hid his youth under his coat and hugged it! And how good it was to turn one’s back upon all that vaulted cold, to take Hilda’s arm and hurry out of the great door and down the steps into the sunlight among the pigeons — to know that the warm and vital thing within him was still there and had not been snatched away to flush Cæsar’s lean cheek or to feed the veins of some bearded Assyrian king. They in their day had carried the flaming liquor, but to-day was his! So the song used to run in his head those summer mornings a dozen years ago. Alexander walked by the place very quietly, as if he were afraid of waking some one.
+
+He crossed Bedford Square and found the number he was looking for. The house, a comfortable, well-kept place enough, was dark except for the four front windows on the second floor, where a low, even light was burning behind the white muslin sash curtains. Outside there were window boxes, painted white and full of flowers. Bartley was making a third round of the Square when he heard the far-flung hoof-beats of a hansom-cab horse, driven rapidly. He looked at his watch, and was astonished to find that it was a few minutes after twelve. He turned and walked back along the iron railing as the cab came up to Hilda’s number and stopped. The hansom must have been one that she employed regularly, for she did not stop to pay the driver. She stepped out quickly and lightly. He heard her cheerful “Good-night, cabby,” as she ran up the steps and opened the door with a latchkey. In a few moments the lights flared up brightly behind the white curtains, and as he walked away he heard a window raised. But he had gone too far to look up without turning round. He went back to his hotel, feeling that he had had a good evening, and he slept well.
+
+For the next few days Alexander was very busy. He took a desk in the office of a Scotch engineering firm on Henrietta Street, and was at work almost constantly. He avoided the clubs and usually dined alone at his hotel. One afternoon, after he had tea, he started for a walk down the Embankment toward Westminster, intending to end his stroll at Bedford Square and to ask whether Miss Burgoyne would let him take her to the theatre. But he did not go so far. When he reached the Abbey, he turned back and crossed Westminster Bridge and sat down to watch the trails of smoke behind the Houses of Parliament catch fire with the sunset. The slender towers were washed by a rain of golden light and licked by little flickering flames; Somerset House and the bleached gray pinnacles about Whitehall were floated in a luminous haze. The yellow light poured through the trees and the leaves seemed to burn with soft fires. There was a smell of acacias in the air everywhere, and the laburnums were dripping gold over the walls of the gardens. It was a sweet, lonely kind of summer evening. Remembering Hilda as she used to be, was doubtless more satisfactory than seeing her as she must be now — and, after all, Alexander asked himself, what was it but his own young years that he was remembering?
+
+He crossed back to Westminster, went up to the Temple, and sat down to smoke in the Middle Temple gardens, listening to the thin voice of the fountain and smelling the spice of the sycamores that came out heavily in the damp evening air. He thought, as he sat there, about a great many things: about his own youth and Hilda’s; above all, he thought of how glorious it had been, and how quickly it had passed; and, when it had passed, how little worth while anything was. None of the things he had gained in the least compensated. In the last six years his reputation had become, as the saying is, popular. Four years ago he had been called to Japan to deliver, at the Emperor’s request, a course of lectures at the Imperial University, and had instituted reforms throughout the islands, not only in the practice of bridge-building but in drainage and road-making. On his return he had undertaken the bridge at Moorlock, in Canada, the most important piece of bridge-building going on in the world, — a test, indeed, of how far the latest practice in bridge structure could be carried. It was a spectacular undertaking by reason of its very size, and Bartley realized that, whatever else he might do, he would probably always be known as the engineer who designed the great Moorlock Bridge, the longest cantilever in existence. Yet it was to him the least satisfactory thing he had ever done. He was cramped in every way by a niggardly commission, and was using lighter structural material than he thought proper. He had vexations enough, too, with his work at home. He had several bridges under way in the United States, and they were always being held up by strikes and delays resulting from a general industrial unrest.
+
+Though Alexander often told himself he had never put more into his work than he had done in the last few years, he had to admit that he had never got so little out of it. He was paying for success, too, in the demands made on his time by boards of civic enterprise and committees of public welfare. The obligations imposed by his wife’s fortune and position were sometimes distracting to a man who followed his profession, and he was expected to be interested in a great many worthy endeavors on her account as well as on his own. His existence was becoming a network of great and little details. He had expected that success would bring him freedom and power; but it had brought only power that was in itself another kind of restraint. He had always meant to keep his personal liberty at all costs, as old MacKeller, his first chief, had done, and not, like so many American engineers, to become a part of a professional movement, a cautious board member, a Nestor de pontibus. He happened to be engaged in work of public utility, but he was not willing to become what is called a public man. He found himself living exactly the kind of life he had determined to escape. What, he asked himself, did he want with these genial honors and substantial comforts? Hardships and difficulties he had carried lightly; overwork had not exhausted him; but this dead calm of middle life which confronted him, — of that he was afraid. He was not ready for it. It was like being buried alive. In his youth he would not have believed such a thing possible. The one thing he had really wanted all his life was to be free; and there was still something unconquered in him, something besides the strong work-horse that his profession had made of him. He felt rich to-night in the possession of that unstultified survival; in the light of his experience, it was more precious than honors or achievement. In all those busy, successful years there had been nothing so good as this hour of wild light-heartedness. This feeling was the only happiness that was real to him, and such hours were the only ones in which he could feel his own continuous identity — feel the boy he had been in the rough days of the old West, feel the youth who had worked his way across the ocean on a cattle-ship and gone to study in Paris without a dollar in his pocket. The man who sat in his offices in Boston was only a powerful machine. Under the activities of that machine the person who, in such moments as this, he felt to be himself, was fading and dying. He remembered how, when he was a little boy and his father called him in the morning, he used to leap from his bed into the full consciousness of himself. That consciousness was Life itself. Whatever took its place, action, reflection, the power of concentrated thought, were only functions of a mechanism useful to society; things that could be bought in the market. There was only one thing that had an absolute value for each individual, and it was just that original impulse, that internal heat, that feeling of one’s self in one’s own breast.
+
+When Alexander walked back to his hotel, the red and green lights were blinking along the docks on the farther shore, and the soft white stars were shining in the wide sky above the river.
+
+The next night, and the next, Alexander repeated this same foolish performance. It was always Miss Burgoyne whom he started out to find, and he got no farther than the Temple gardens and the Embankment. It was a pleasant kind of loneliness. To a man who was so little given to reflection, whose dreams always took the form of definite ideas, reaching into the future, there was a seductive excitement in renewing old experiences in imagination. He started out upon these walks half guiltily, with a curious longing and expectancy which were wholly gratified by solitude. Solitude, but not solitariness; for he walked shoulder to shoulder with a shadowy companion — not little Hilda Burgoyne, by any means, but some one vastly dearer to him than she had ever been — his own young self, the youth who had waited for him upon the steps of the British Museum that night, and who, though he had tried to pass so quietly, had known him and come down and linked an arm in his.
+
+It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.
+
+One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford’s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.
+
+“Mr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?”
+
+Bartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. “Long enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!”
+
+She laughed as if she were pleased. “I’m glad you think so. I like it. Won’t you join us here?”
+
+“Miss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,” Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth — still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt — and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.
+
+When the story was finished, Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander, and the other men drifted away.
+
+“I thought I saw you in MacConnell’s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.”
+
+She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.
+
+“No, I’ve been mooning about here.”
+
+Hilda laughed gayly. “Mooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You’re handsomer than ever and you’ve gained a grand manner.”
+
+Alexander blushed and bowed. “Time and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren’t you tremendously pleased with yourself?”
+
+She laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like ‘The Mikado.’ And what about your new bridge — in Canada, isn’t it, and it’s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can’t remember.”
+
+Bartley shook his head and smiled drolly. “Since when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?”
+
+“Why, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!” Hilda exclaimed.
+
+“Well, I think we won’t talk about bridges here, at any rate.” Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. “But I wonder whether you’d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?”
+
+“Why should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.”
+
+“I know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I’ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time — ”
+
+She cut him short. “Nonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that’s what you mean. I’m like every one else — more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don’t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?”
+
+“Does it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn’t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.” He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor.
+
+Hilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh. “My dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?”
+
+Bartley looked ruffled and turned the seal ring on his little finger about awkwardly.
+
+Hilda leaned back in her chair, watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes. “Come, don’t be angry, but don’t try to pose for me, or to be anything but what you are. If you care to come, it’s yourself I’ll be glad to see, and you thinking well of yourself. Don’t try to wear a cloak of humility; it doesn’t become you. Stalk in as you are and don’t make excuses. I’m not accustomed to inquiring into the motives of my guests. That would hardly be safe, even for Lady Walford, in a great house like this.”
+
+“Sunday afternoon, then,” said Alexander, as she rose to join her hostess. “How early may I come?”
+
+She gave him her hand and flushed and laughed. He bent over it a little stiffly. She went away on Lady Walford’s arm, and as he stood watching her yellow train glide down the long floor he looked rather sullen. He felt that he had not come out of it very brilliantly.
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne’s invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty-odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh MacConnell came with his sister, and stood about, managing his tea-cup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deep-set, faded eyes. He seemed to have made a resolute effort at tidiness of attire, and his sister, a robust, florid woman with a splendid joviality about her, kept eyeing his freshly creased clothes apprehensively. It was not very long, indeed, before his coat hung with a discouraged sag from his gaunt shoulders and his hair and beard were rumpled as if he had been out in a gale. His dry humor went under a cloud of absent-minded kindliness which, Mainhall explained, always overtook him here. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come in to a young girl’s party.
+
+The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. He looked very much like Agassiz, and his wife, in her old-fashioned black silk dress, overskirted and tight-sleeved, reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs. Browning. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their ‘bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. “She’s a dear, unworldly little thing,” said the philosopher absently; “more like the stage people of my young days — folk of simple manners. There aren’t many such left. American tours have spoiled them, I’m afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn’t care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.”
+
+Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.
+
+So sorry I can’t see you. Will you come and dine with me Sunday evening at half-past seven?
+
+H.B.
+
+When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living-room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walford’s.
+
+“I’m so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know,” he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair. “Yes, it’s very, very pretty. Every one at Lady Walford’s was looking at it.”
+
+Hilda curtsied. “Is that why you think it pretty? I’ve no need for fine clothes in Mac’s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It’s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don’t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don’t like English cookery.”
+
+Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything.
+
+“I haven’t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They’re quite unusual, aren’t they?”
+
+“Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d’Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.”
+
+Alexander walked over to the bookcases. “It’s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven’t got anything that doesn’t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.”
+
+“Rooms always look better by lamplight — in London, at least. Though Marie is clean — really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.”
+
+“I’m glad,” said Alexander simply. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You’ve got awfully nice friends,” he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. “Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don’t talk of any one else as they do of you.”
+
+Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously: “I’ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It’s not worth much, but I love it. I’ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He’s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I’ve traveled a bit, too.”
+
+Marie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.
+
+“My dining-room,” Hilda explained, as she led the way, “is the tiniest place you have ever seen.”
+
+It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.
+
+“It’s not particularly rare,” she said, “but some of it was my mother’s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn’t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre — queer theatres, for that matter.”
+
+It was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.
+
+“I have some champagne for you, too. I don’t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it’s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.”
+
+“Thank you. But I don’t like it so well as this.” Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. “You have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?”
+
+Hilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. “Oh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead — but perhaps you don’t remember her?”
+
+“Don’t I, though! I’m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o’clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that’s saying a good deal.”
+
+“Well, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He’s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel — do you remember Angel?”
+
+“Perfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?”
+
+“Ah, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger’s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby’s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.”
+
+Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh. “How jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?”
+
+“Indeed I do. Come, we’ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.”
+
+Hilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.
+
+“What a warm, soft spring evening that was,” he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; “and the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn’t we?”
+
+Hilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.
+
+“I think we did,” she answered demurely. “It was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.”
+
+“I expect it was the last franc I had. What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic. She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I would have given her some of mine off my back, if I could. I had enough and to spare then,” Bartley mused, and looked thoughtfully at his cigar.
+
+They were both remembering what the woman had said when she took the money: “God give you a happy love!” It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar: it had come out of the depths of the poor creature’s sorrow, vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm. When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time. He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so — 
+
+Bartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her. “Dear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten — I was back there. It was very jolly,” he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.
+
+Hilda laughed and went over to the piano. “Well, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I’m coming on.”
+
+“I’ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.”
+
+He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.
+
+“No, it isn’t a dress-up part. He doesn’t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he’s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.”
+
+She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.
+
+“Sing ‘The Harp That Once,’ Hilda. You used to sing it so well.”
+
+“Nonsense. Of course I can’t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!”
+
+Alexander laughed. “All the same, sing it, Hilda.”
+
+Hilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. “It’s really too warm in this room to sing. Don’t you feel it?”
+
+Alexander went over and opened the window for her. “Aren’t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can’t I get a scarf or something?”
+
+“Ask a theatre lady if she’s afraid of drafts!” Hilda laughed. “But perhaps, as I’m so warm — give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.” He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. “There, that will do. It looks like a bib.” She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. “Isn’t London a tomb on Sunday night?”
+
+Alexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: “It’s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.”
+
+For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.
+
+She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round. “Here, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.”
+
+Bartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: “You are giving me a chance?”
+
+“Yes. Take it and go. This isn’t fair, you know. Good-night.”
+
+Alexander unclenched the two hands at his sides. With one he threw down the window and with the other — still standing behind her — he drew her back against him.
+
+She uttered a little cry, threw her arms over her head, and drew his face down to hers. “Are you going to let me love you a little, Bartley?” she whispered.
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+It was the afternoon of the day before Christmas. Mrs. Alexander had been driving about all the morning, leaving presents at the houses of her friends. She lunched alone, and as she rose from the table she spoke to the butler: “Thomas, I am going down to the kitchen now to see Norah. In half an hour you are to bring the greens up from the cellar and put them in the library. Mr. Alexander will be home at three to hang them himself. Don’t forget the stepladder, and plenty of tacks and string. You may bring the azaleas upstairs. Take the white one to Mr. Alexander’s study. Put the two pink ones in this room, and the red one in the drawing-room.”
+
+A little before three o’clock Mrs. Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready. She pulled the window shades high, for the weather was dark and stormy, and there was little light, even in the streets. A foot of snow had fallen during the morning, and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice. Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open. She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in, covered with snow. He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair.
+
+“I wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?”
+
+“An hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren’t you frightfully extravagant?”
+
+“Not for Christmas-time. I’ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.”
+
+When Alexander reappeared, he took his wife’s arm and went with her into the library. “When did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.”
+
+“I told him to put it there.”
+
+“But, I say, it’s much the finest of the lot!”
+
+“That’s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.”
+
+Bartley began to sort the greens. “It looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?”
+
+He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.
+
+“I forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money — something like ten thousand. He’s coming on to settle up the estate. Won’t it be jolly to have him?”
+
+“And how fine that he’s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.”
+
+“Those trains from Albany are always late. He’ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don’t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You’ve had a busy morning and I don’t want you to be tired to-night.”
+
+After his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.
+
+“Hello, Wilson. What luck! Come into the library. We are to have a lot of people to dinner to-night, and Winifred’s lying down. You will excuse her, won’t you? And now what about yourself? Sit down and tell me everything.”
+
+“I think I’d rather move about, if you don’t mind. I’ve been sitting in the train for a week, it seems to me.” Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room. “You have been busy. Bartley, if I’d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I’d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.”
+
+“Thank you, Wilson. She’ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I’ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn’t it?” Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. “You know, I’m sailing the day after New Year’s.”
+
+“Again? Why, you’ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven’t you?”
+
+“Oh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan’t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.” Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.
+
+“Haven’t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?”
+
+“Oh, that doesn’t amount to anything. It’s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They’ve crowded me too much on the cost. It’s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there’s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I’ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.”
+
+When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.
+
+“These pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,” she said, smiling, “and I am sure she meant them for you.”
+
+Bartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. “Have you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?” He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. “They’ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven’t they?” He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. “You are happy, aren’t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I’ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.”
+
+“No; it’s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don’t, always.” She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes.
+
+Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.
+
+“I’m growing older, my dear; that’s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.” He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: — 
+
+“Where did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?”
+
+“It’s old Flemish. Isn’t it fine?”
+
+“They are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose” — he waved his hand — “above reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours — very, very proud, and just a little hard.”
+
+Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. “Oh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.”
+
+Bartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. “Not hard to me, Winifred,” he whispered. “Never, never hard to me.”
+
+Left alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. “That this,” he groaned, “that this should have happened to me!”
+
+On New Year’s day a thaw set in, and during the night torrents of rain fell. In the morning, the morning of Alexander’s departure for England, the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfast-room. Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down. His wife sat at the table, watching him. She was pale and unnaturally calm. When Thomas brought the letters, Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly.
+
+“Here’s a note from old Wilson. He’s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. ‘The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.’ Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!” Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. “This is a nasty sort of day to sail. I’ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.”
+
+“That would only mean starting twice. It wouldn’t really help you out at all,” Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. “And you’d come back late for all your engagements.”
+
+Bartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. “I wish things would let me rest. I’m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.” He looked out at the storm-beaten river.
+
+Winifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can’t you remember that?”
+
+He put his arm about her. “All the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it’s always a messy sort of patchwork. It’s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?”
+
+She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride. “Oh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.”
+
+Bartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.
+
+Presently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. “Shall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?”
+
+“Yes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.”
+
+Thomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand. “It never gets any easier, Winifred.”
+
+They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. “Courage,” she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared. “I’ll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I’ve gone.” He kissed her quickly several times, hurried out of the front door into the rain, and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy, dripping black horses. Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees. As the carriage turned up the hill, he lifted one hand and brought it down violently. “This time” — he spoke aloud and through his set teeth — “this time I’m going to end it!”
+
+On the afternoon of the third day out, Alexander was sitting well to the stern, on the windward side where the chairs were few, his rugs over him and the collar of his fur-lined coat turned up about his ears. The weather had so far been dark and raw. For two hours he had been watching the low, dirty sky and the beating of the heavy rain upon the iron-colored sea. There was a long, oily swell that made exercise laborious. The decks smelled of damp woolens, and the air was so humid that drops of moisture kept gathering upon his hair and mustache. He seldom moved except to brush them away. The great open spaces made him passive and the restlessness of the water quieted him. He intended during the voyage to decide upon a course of action, but he held all this away from him for the present and lay in a blessed gray oblivion. Deep down in him somewhere his resolution was weakening and strengthening, ebbing and flowing. The thing that perturbed him went on as steadily as his pulse, but he was almost unconscious of it. He was submerged in the vast impersonal grayness about him, and at intervals the sidelong roll of the boat measured off time like the ticking of a clock. He felt released from everything that troubled and perplexed him. It was as if he had tricked and outwitted torturing memories, had actually managed to get on board without them. He thought of nothing at all. If his mind now and again picked a face out of the grayness, it was Lucius Wilson’s, or the face of an old schoolmate, forgotten for years; or it was the slim outline of a favorite greyhound he used to hunt jack-rabbits with when he was a boy.
+
+Toward six o’clock the wind rose and tugged at the tarpaulin and brought the swell higher. After dinner Alexander came back to the wet deck, piled his damp rugs over him again, and sat smoking, losing himself in the obliterating blackness and drowsing in the rush of the gale. Before he went below a few bright stars were pricked off between heavily moving masses of cloud.
+
+The next morning was bright and mild, with a fresh breeze. Alexander felt the need of exercise even before he came out of his cabin. When he went on deck the sky was blue and blinding, with heavy whiffs of white cloud, smoke-colored at the edges, moving rapidly across it. The water was roughish, a cold, clear indigo breaking into whitecaps. Bartley walked for two hours, and then stretched himself in the sun until lunch-time.
+
+In the afternoon he wrote a long letter to Winifred. Later, as he walked the deck through a splendid golden sunset, his spirits rose continually. It was agreeable to come to himself again after several days of numbness and torpor. He stayed out until the last tinge of violet had faded from the water. There was literally a taste of life on his lips as he sat down to dinner and ordered a bottle of champagne. He was late in finishing his dinner, and drank rather more wine than he had meant to. When he went above, the wind had risen and the deck was almost deserted. As he stepped out of the door a gale lifted his heavy fur coat about his shoulders. He fought his way up the deck with keen exhilaration. The moment he stepped, almost out of breath, behind the shelter of the stern, the wind was cut off, and he felt, like a rush of warm air, a sense of close and intimate companionship. He started back and tore his coat open as if something warm were actually clinging to him beneath it. He hurried up the deck and went into the saloon parlor, full of women who had retreated thither from the sharp wind. He threw himself upon them. He talked delightfully to the older ones and played accompaniments for the younger ones until the last sleepy girl had followed her mother below. Then he went into the smoking-room. He played bridge until two o’clock in the morning, and managed to lose a considerable sum of money without really noticing that he was doing so.
+
+After the break of one fine day the weather was pretty consistently dull. When the low sky thinned a trifle, the pale white spot of a sun did no more than throw a bluish lustre on the water, giving it the dark brightness of newly cut lead. Through one after another of those gray days Alexander drowsed and mused, drinking in the grateful moisture. But the complete peace of the first part of the voyage was over. Sometimes he rose suddenly from his chair as if driven out, and paced the deck for hours. People noticed his propensity for walking in rough weather, and watched him curiously as he did his rounds. From his abstraction and the determined set of his jaw, they fancied he must be thinking about his bridge. Every one had heard of the new cantilever bridge in Canada.
+
+But Alexander was not thinking about his work. After the fourth night out, when his will suddenly softened under his hands, he had been continually hammering away at himself. More and more often, when he first wakened in the morning or when he stepped into a warm place after being chilled on the deck, he felt a sudden painful delight at being nearer another shore. Sometimes when he was most despondent, when he thought himself worn out with this struggle, in a flash he was free of it and leaped into an overwhelming consciousness of himself. On the instant he felt that marvelous return of the impetuousness, the intense excitement, the increasing expectancy of youth.
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The last two days of the voyage Bartley found almost intolerable. The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mersey, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience. He had planned to stop in Liverpool; but, instead, he took the boat train for London.
+
+Emerging at Euston at half-past three o’clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. When Marie met him at the door, even her strong sense of the proprieties could not restrain her surprise and delight. She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda’s living-room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. “Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you’re chilled through.”
+
+She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.
+
+“When did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven’t spoken a word.”
+
+“I got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.”
+
+Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.
+
+“There’s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?”
+
+Bartley bent lower over the fire. “It’s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.”
+
+Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.
+
+“What about us, Bartley?” she asked in a thin voice.
+
+He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: — 
+
+“Everything!”
+
+Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.
+
+“I’ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,” she said tremulously. “I can’t stand seeing you miserable.”
+
+“I can’t live with myself any longer,” he answered roughly.
+
+He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.
+
+Hilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.
+
+“It . . . it hasn’t always made you miserable, has it?” Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.
+
+“Always. But it’s worse now. It’s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.”
+
+“But why now?” she asked piteously, wringing her hands.
+
+He ignored her question. “I am not a man who can live two lives,” he went on feverishly. “Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can’t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.”
+
+At that word “deception,” spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda’s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.
+
+“Could you — could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?”
+
+He dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. “It was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.”
+
+He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.
+
+She crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. “When did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?”
+
+“After the very first. The first was — sort of in play, wasn’t it?”
+
+Hilda’s face quivered, but she whispered: “Yes, I think it must have been. But why didn’t you tell me when you were here in the summer?”
+
+Alexander groaned. “I meant to, but somehow I couldn’t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.”
+
+“Yes, I was happy, wasn’t I?” She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. “Weren’t you happy then, at all?”
+
+She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.
+
+“Yes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .”
+
+“Yes, yes,” she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. “Please tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.”
+
+His hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves. “Yes, Hilda; I know that,” he said simply.
+
+She leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: — 
+
+“You see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful — to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.”
+
+Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.
+
+“I understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn’t know. You’ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I’ve not done, or what must I not do?” She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. “You want me to say it?” she whispered. “You want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.”
+
+“I can’t,” he said heavily.
+
+Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. “It’s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can’t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.”
+
+Hilda sprang up like a flame. She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.
+
+“No!” she gasped. “It’s too late to ask that. Do you hear me, Bartley? It’s too late. I won’t promise. It’s abominable of you to ask me. Keep away if you wish; when have I ever followed you? But, if you come to me, I’ll do as I see fit. The shamefulness of your asking me to do that! If you come to me, I’ll do as I see fit. Do you understand? Bartley, you’re cowardly!”
+
+Alexander rose and shook himself angrily. “Yes, I know I’m cowardly. I’m afraid of myself. I don’t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don’t dare trifle with it. It’s getting the better of me. It’s different now. I’m growing older, and you’ve got my young self here with you. It’s through him that I’ve come to wish for you all and all the time.” He took her roughly in his arms. “Do you know what I mean?”
+
+Hilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. “Oh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn’t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I’ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say — but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!”
+
+Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.
+
+“Just something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful — can I never make you understand what that means to me?” She pressed his shoulders gently. “You see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I’d met you later, if I hadn’t loved you so well — but that’s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding — hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.”
+
+She slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.
+
+“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” he whispered. “We’ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.”
+
+“I think I have forgotten everything but that already,” she murmured. “Ah, your dear arms!”
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+During the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard. He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession. He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays, and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home.
+
+The day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.
+
+When he reached Hilda’s apartment she met him, fresh as the morning itself. Her rooms were flooded with sunshine and full of the flowers he had been sending her. She would never let him give her anything else.
+
+“Are you busy this morning, Hilda?” he asked as he sat down, his hat and gloves in his hand.
+
+“Very. I’ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.”
+
+“Well, then you’ve worked enough. And so have I. I’ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It’s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.”
+
+“Oh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I’ll change my dress. I shan’t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.”
+
+Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.
+
+Bartley rose and inspected her. “Why don’t you wear some of those pink roses?” he asked.
+
+“But they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!” She laughed as she looked about the room. “You’ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That’s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.”
+
+“Why won’t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.”
+
+Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. “No, there are some things you can’t do. There’s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?”
+
+Bartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. “How gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.”
+
+“That’s because I’ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.”
+
+He pushed the top of the glove up slowly. “When did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?”
+
+“When I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.”
+
+“I’m in no hurry. We’ve plenty of time.”
+
+They found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.
+
+“I’m not going until to-morrow, you know,” Bartley announced suddenly. “I’ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven’t felt so jolly this long while.”
+
+Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad. “I think people were meant to be happy, a little,” she said.
+
+They had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.
+
+“It’s like that with us Londoners, too,” Hilda was saying. “Everything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.”
+
+She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.
+
+“You are a plucky one, you.” He patted her glove with his hand. “Yes, you are a plucky one.”
+
+Hilda sighed. “No, I’m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn’t take pluck to fight for one’s moment, but it takes pluck to go without — a lot. More than I have. I can’t help it,” she added fiercely.
+
+After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres — short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises — in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.
+
+[See “The Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes. Ed.] [I have placed it at the end for your convenience]
+
+“Seems good to get back, doesn’t it?” Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. “London always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!”
+
+“All the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,” Hilda said thoughtfully.
+
+“I hope so. Now let’s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music’s good there.”
+
+“There are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I’ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.”
+
+“Very well, the sole’s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We’ve had five miles of ‘Il Trovatore’ now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?”
+
+“I’m not tired at all. I was just wondering how people can ever die. Why did you remind me of the mummy? Life seems the strongest and most indestructible thing in the world. Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down there, going to good dinners and clubs and theatres, will be dead some day, and not care about anything? I don’t believe it, and I know I shan’t die, ever! You see, I feel too — too powerful!”
+
+The carriage stopped. Bartley sprang out and swung her quickly to the pavement. As he lifted her in his two hands he whispered: “You are — powerful!”
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+The last rehearsal was over, a tedious dress rehearsal which had lasted all day and exhausted the patience of every one who had to do with it. When Hilda had dressed for the street and came out of her dressing-room, she found Hugh MacConnell waiting for her in the corridor.
+
+“The fog’s thicker than ever, Hilda. There have been a great many accidents to-day. It’s positively unsafe for you to be out alone. Will you let me take you home?”
+
+“How good of you, Mac. If you are going with me, I think I’d rather walk. I’ve had no exercise to-day, and all this has made me nervous.”
+
+“I shouldn’t wonder,” said MacConnell dryly. Hilda pulled down her veil and they stepped out into the thick brown wash that submerged St. Martin’s Lane. MacConnell took her hand and tucked it snugly under his arm. “I’m sorry I was such a savage. I hope you didn’t think I made an ass of myself.”
+
+“Not a bit of it. I don’t wonder you were peppery. Those things are awfully trying. How do you think it’s going?”
+
+“Magnificently. That’s why I got so stirred up. We are going to hear from this, both of us. And that reminds me; I’ve got news for you. They are going to begin repairs on the theatre about the middle of March, and we are to run over to New York for six weeks. Bennett told me yesterday that it was decided.”
+
+Hilda looked up delightedly at the tall gray figure beside her. He was the only thing she could see, for they were moving through a dense opaqueness, as if they were walking at the bottom of the ocean.
+
+“Oh, Mac, how glad I am! And they love your things over there, don’t they?”
+
+“Shall you be glad for — any other reason, Hilda?”
+
+MacConnell put his hand in front of her to ward off some dark object. It proved to be only a lamp-post, and they beat in farther from the edge of the pavement.
+
+“What do you mean, Mac?” Hilda asked nervously.
+
+“I was just thinking there might be people over there you’d be glad to see,” he brought out awkwardly. Hilda said nothing, and as they walked on MacConnell spoke again, apologetically: “I hope you don’t mind my knowing about it, Hilda. Don’t stiffen up like that. No one else knows, and I didn’t try to find out anything. I felt it, even before I knew who he was. I knew there was somebody, and that it wasn’t I.”
+
+They crossed Oxford Street in silence, feeling their way. The busses had stopped running and the cab-drivers were leading their horses. When they reached the other side, MacConnell said suddenly, “I hope you are happy.”
+
+“Terribly, dangerously happy, Mac,” — Hilda spoke quietly, pressing the rough sleeve of his greatcoat with her gloved hand.
+
+“You’ve always thought me too old for you, Hilda, — oh, of course you’ve never said just that, — and here this fellow is not more than eight years younger than I. I’ve always felt that if I could get out of my old case I might win you yet. It’s a fine, brave youth I carry inside me, only he’ll never be seen.”
+
+“Nonsense, Mac. That has nothing to do with it. It’s because you seem too close to me, too much my own kind. It would be like marrying Cousin Mike, almost. I really tried to care as you wanted me to, away back in the beginning.”
+
+“Well, here we are, turning out of the Square. You are not angry with me, Hilda? Thank you for this walk, my dear. Go in and get dry things on at once. You’ll be having a great night to-morrow.”
+
+She put out her hand. “Thank you, Mac, for everything. Good-night.”
+
+MacConnell trudged off through the fog, and she went slowly upstairs. Her slippers and dressing gown were waiting for her before the fire. “I shall certainly see him in New York. He will see by the papers that we are coming. Perhaps he knows it already,” Hilda kept thinking as she undressed. “Perhaps he will be at the dock. No, scarcely that; but I may meet him in the street even before he comes to see me.” Marie placed the tea-table by the fire and brought Hilda her letters. She looked them over, and started as she came to one in a handwriting that she did not often see; Alexander had written to her only twice before, and he did not allow her to write to him at all. “Thank you, Marie. You may go now.”
+
+Hilda sat down by the table with the letter in her hand, still unopened. She looked at it intently, turned it over, and felt its thickness with her fingers. She believed that she sometimes had a kind of second-sight about letters, and could tell before she read them whether they brought good or evil tidings. She put this one down on the table in front of her while she poured her tea. At last, with a little shiver of expectancy, she tore open the envelope and read: — 
+
+BOSTON, February — 
+
+MY DEAR HILDA: — 
+
+It is after twelve o’clock. Every one else is in bed and I am sitting alone in my study. I have been happier in this room than anywhere else in the world. Happiness like that makes one insolent. I used to think these four walls could stand against anything. And now I scarcely know myself here. Now I know that no one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person. Two people, when they love each other, grow alike in their tastes and habits and pride, but their moral natures (whatever we may mean by that canting expression) are never welded. The base one goes on being base, and the noble one noble, to the end.
+
+The last week has been a bad one; I have been realizing how things used to be with me. Sometimes I get used to being dead inside, but lately it has been as if a window beside me had suddenly opened, and as if all the smells of spring blew in to me. There is a garden out there, with stars overhead, where I used to walk at night when I had a single purpose and a single heart. I can remember how I used to feel there, how beautiful everything about me was, and what life and power and freedom I felt in myself. When the window opens I know exactly how it would feel to be out there. But that garden is closed to me. How is it, I ask myself, that everything can be so different with me when nothing here has changed? I am in my own house, in my own study, in the midst of all these quiet streets where my friends live. They are all safe and at peace with themselves. But I am never at peace. I feel always on the edge of danger and change.
+
+I keep remembering locoed horses I used to see on the range when I was a boy. They changed like that. We used to catch them and put them up in the corral, and they developed great cunning. They would pretend to eat their oats like the other horses, but we knew they were always scheming to get back at the loco.
+
+It seems that a man is meant to live only one life in this world. When he tries to live a second, he develops another nature. I feel as if a second man had been grafted into me. At first he seemed only a pleasure-loving simpleton, of whose company I was rather ashamed, and whom I used to hide under my coat when I walked the Embankment, in London. But now he is strong and sullen, and he is fighting for his life at the cost of mine. That is his one activity: to grow strong. No creature ever wanted so much to live. Eventually, I suppose, he will absorb me altogether. Believe me, you will hate me then.
+
+And what have you to do, Hilda, with this ugly story? Nothing at all. The little boy drank of the prettiest brook in the forest and he became a stag. I write all this because I can never tell it to you, and because it seems as if I could not keep silent any longer. And because I suffer, Hilda. If any one I loved suffered like this, I’d want to know it. Help me, Hilda!
+
+B.A.
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+On the last Saturday in April, the New York “Times” published an account of the strike complications which were delaying Alexander’s New Jersey bridge, and stated that the engineer himself was in town and at his office on West Tenth Street.
+
+On Sunday, the day after this notice appeared, Alexander worked all day at his Tenth Street rooms. His business often called him to New York, and he had kept an apartment there for years, subletting it when he went abroad for any length of time. Besides his sleeping-room and bath, there was a large room, formerly a painter’s studio, which he used as a study and office. It was furnished with the cast-off possessions of his bachelor days and with odd things which he sheltered for friends of his who followed itinerant and more or less artistic callings. Over the fireplace there was a large old-fashioned gilt mirror. Alexander’s big work-table stood in front of one of the three windows, and above the couch hung the one picture in the room, a big canvas of charming color and spirit, a study of the Luxembourg Gardens in early spring, painted in his youth by a man who had since become a portrait-painter of international renown. He had done it for Alexander when they were students together in Paris.
+
+Sunday was a cold, raw day and a fine rain fell continuously. When Alexander came back from dinner he put more wood on his fire, made himself comfortable, and settled down at his desk, where he began checking over estimate sheets. It was after nine o’clock and he was lighting a second pipe, when he thought he heard a sound at his door. He started and listened, holding the burning match in his hand; again he heard the same sound, like a firm, light tap. He rose and crossed the room quickly. When he threw open the door he recognized the figure that shrank back into the bare, dimly lit hallway. He stood for a moment in awkward constraint, his pipe in his hand.
+
+“Come in,” he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable. “Won’t you sit down?”
+
+He was standing behind the table, turning over a pile of blueprints nervously. The yellow light from the student’s lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smoking-jacket, but his flushed face and big, hard head were in the shadow. There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again, in the street below, anywhere but where she was.
+
+“Of course I know, Bartley,” she said at last, “that after this you won’t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That’s all. Good-night; I’m going now.” She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.
+
+Alexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. “Sit down, Hilda; you’re wet through. Let me take off your coat — and your boots; they’re oozing water.” He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair. “Here, put your feet on this stool. You don’t mean to say you walked down — and without overshoes!”
+
+Hilda hid her face in her hands. “I was afraid to take a cab. Can’t you see, Bartley, that I’m terribly frightened? I’ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don’t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you’d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won’t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.”
+
+Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket. “Is this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?” he asked unsteadily.
+
+She was afraid to look up at him. “Didn’t — didn’t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to — quit me?” she asked. “I came to tell you that I’m willing to do as you asked me. But it’s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.” She put her hand out toward the fender.
+
+Alexander sat down on the arm of her chair. “Did you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn’t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you.” He paused. “They never did to me.”
+
+Hilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve. “Oh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn’t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn’t have come.”
+
+Alexander slipped his arm about her. “I didn’t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn’t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I’ve watched that door all day. I’ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.” He bent his face over her hair.
+
+“And I,” she whispered, — “I felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.”
+
+Alexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.
+
+“No, you weren’t mistaken. I’ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.” He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. “What am I to do, Hilda?”
+
+“That’s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I’m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I’ll do it more completely. I’m going to marry.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Oh, it doesn’t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I’m too fond of him.”
+
+Alexander moved restlessly. “Are you joking, Hilda?”
+
+“Indeed I’m not.”
+
+“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
+
+“Yes, I know very well. I’ve thought about it a great deal, and I’ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It’s because they can’t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.”
+
+Alexander flushed angrily. “So it’s better to be at the mercy of a man you don’t love?”
+
+“Under such circumstances, infinitely!”
+
+There was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander’s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.
+
+“Hilda you’d better think a while longer before you do that. I don’t know what I ought to say, but I don’t believe you’d be happy; truly I don’t. Aren’t you trying to frighten me?”
+
+She tied the knot of the last lacing and put her boot-heel down firmly. “No; I’m telling you what I’ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan’t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan’t be seeing you again.”
+
+Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.
+
+“I wouldn’t be so much alarmed if I didn’t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don’t do anything like that rashly.” His face grew troubled. “You wouldn’t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I’d never have another hour’s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.” He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. “You see, you are different, Hilda. Don’t you know you are?” His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. “Some women can do that sort of thing, but you — you can love as queens did, in the old time.”
+
+Hilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. “Only one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.”
+
+She felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.
+
+“Try him again, Hilda. Try him once again.”
+
+She looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+On Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man’s head, with thick rumpled hair. “Curious,” he thought; “that looked like Alexander, but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches?”
+
+It was, indeed, Alexander.
+
+That morning a telegram from Moorlock had reached him, telling him that there was serious trouble with the bridge and that he was needed there at once, so he had caught the first train out of New York. He had taken a seat in a day-coach to avoid the risk of meeting any one he knew, and because he did not wish to be comfortable. When the telegram arrived, Alexander was at his rooms on Tenth Street, packing his bag to go to Boston. On Monday night he had written a long letter to his wife, but when morning came he was afraid to send it, and the letter was still in his pocket. Winifred was not a woman who could bear disappointment. She demanded a great deal of herself and of the people she loved; and she never failed herself. If he told her now, he knew, it would be irretrievable. There would be no going back. He would lose the thing he valued most in the world; he would be destroying himself and his own happiness. There would be nothing for him afterward. He seemed to see himself dragging out a restless existence on the Continent — Cannes, Hyères, Algiers, Cairo — among smartly dressed, disabled men of every nationality; forever going on journeys that led nowhere; hurrying to catch trains that he might just as well miss; getting up in the morning with a great bustle and splashing of water, to begin a day that had no purpose and no meaning; dining late to shorten the night, sleeping late to shorten the day.
+
+And for what? For a mere folly, a masquerade, a little thing that he could not let go. And he could even let it go, he told himself. But he had promised to be in London at mid-summer, and he knew that he would go. . . . It was impossible to live like this any longer.
+
+And this, then, was to be the disaster that his old professor had foreseen for him: the crack in the wall, the crash, the cloud of dust. And he could not understand how it had come about. He felt that he himself was unchanged, that he was still there, the same man he had been five years ago, and that he was sitting stupidly by and letting some resolute offshoot of himself spoil his life for him. This new force was not he, it was but a part of him. He would not even admit that it was stronger than he; but it was more active. It was by its energy that this new feeling got the better of him. His wife was the woman who had made his life, gratified his pride, given direction to his tastes and habits. The life they led together seemed to him beautiful. Winifred still was, as she had always been, Romance for him, and whenever he was deeply stirred he turned to her. When the grandeur and beauty of the world challenged him — as it challenges even the most self-absorbed people — he always answered with her name. That was his reply to the question put by the mountains and the stars; to all the spiritual aspects of life. In his feeling for his wife there was all the tenderness, all the pride, all the devotion of which he was capable. There was everything but energy; the energy of youth which must register itself and cut its name before it passes. This new feeling was so fresh, so unsatisfied and light of foot. It ran and was not wearied, anticipated him everywhere. It put a girdle round the earth while he was going from New York to Moorlock. At this moment, it was tingling through him, exultant, and live as quicksilver, whispering, “In July you will be in England.”
+
+Already he dreaded the long, empty days at sea, the monotonous Irish coast, the sluggish passage up the Mersey, the flash of the boat train through the summer country. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling of rapid motion and to swift, terrifying thoughts. He was sitting so, his face shaded by his hand, when the Boston lawyer saw him from the siding at White River Junction.
+
+When at last Alexander roused himself, the afternoon had waned to sunset. The train was passing through a gray country and the sky overhead was flushed with a wide flood of clear color. There was a rose-colored light over the gray rocks and hills and meadows. Off to the left, under the approach of a weather-stained wooden bridge, a group of boys were sitting around a little fire. The smell of the wood smoke blew in at the window. Except for an old farmer, jogging along the highroad in his box-wagon, there was not another living creature to be seen. Alexander looked back wistfully at the boys, camped on the edge of a little marsh, crouching under their shelter and looking gravely at their fire. They took his mind back a long way, to a campfire on a sandbar in a Western river, and he wished he could go back and sit down with them. He could remember exactly how the world had looked then.
+
+It was quite dark and Alexander was still thinking of the boys, when it occurred to him that the train must be nearing Allway. In going to his new bridge at Moorlock he had always to pass through Allway. The train stopped at Allway Mills, then wound two miles up the river, and then the hollow sound under his feet told Bartley that he was on his first bridge again. The bridge seemed longer than it had ever seemed before, and he was glad when he felt the beat of the wheels on the solid roadbed again. He did not like coming and going across that bridge, or remembering the man who built it. And was he, indeed, the same man who used to walk that bridge at night, promising such things to himself and to the stars? And yet, he could remember it all so well: the quiet hills sleeping in the moonlight, the slender skeleton of the bridge reaching out into the river, and up yonder, alone on the hill, the big white house; upstairs, in Winifred’s window, the light that told him she was still awake and still thinking of him. And after the light went out he walked alone, taking the heavens into his confidence, unable to tear himself away from the white magic of the night, unwilling to sleep because longing was so sweet to him, and because, for the first time since first the hills were hung with moonlight, there was a lover in the world. And always there was the sound of the rushing water underneath, the sound which, more than anything else, meant death; the wearing away of things under the impact of physical forces which men could direct but never circumvent or diminish. Then, in the exaltation of love, more than ever it seemed to him to mean death, the only other thing as strong as love. Under the moon, under the cold, splendid stars, there were only those two things awake and sleepless; death and love, the rushing river and his burning heart.
+
+Alexander sat up and looked about him. The train was tearing on through the darkness. All his companions in the day-coach were either dozing or sleeping heavily, and the murky lamps were turned low. How came he here among all these dirty people? Why was he going to London? What did it mean — what was the answer? How could this happen to a man who had lived through that magical spring and summer, and who had felt that the stars themselves were but flaming particles in the far-away infinitudes of his love?
+
+What had he done to lose it? How could he endure the baseness of life without it? And with every revolution of the wheels beneath him, the unquiet quicksilver in his breast told him that at midsummer he would be in London. He remembered his last night there: the red foggy darkness, the hungry crowds before the theatres, the hand-organs, the feverish rhythm of the blurred, crowded streets, and the feeling of letting himself go with the crowd. He shuddered and looked about him at the poor unconscious companions of his journey, unkempt and travel-stained, now doubled in unlovely attitudes, who had come to stand to him for the ugliness he had brought into the world.
+
+And those boys back there, beginning it all just as he had begun it; he wished he could promise them better luck. Ah, if one could promise any one better luck, if one could assure a single human being of happiness! He had thought he could do so, once; and it was thinking of that that he at last fell asleep. In his sleep, as if it had nothing fresher to work upon, his mind went back and tortured itself with something years and years away, an old, long-forgotten sorrow of his childhood.
+
+When Alexander awoke in the morning, the sun was just rising through pale golden ripples of cloud, and the fresh yellow light was vibrating through the pine woods. The white birches, with their little unfolding leaves, gleamed in the lowlands, and the marsh meadows were already coming to life with their first green, a thin, bright color which had run over them like fire. As the train rushed along the trestles, thousands of wild birds rose screaming into the light. The sky was already a pale blue and of the clearness of crystal. Bartley caught up his bag and hurried through the Pullman coaches until he found the conductor. There was a stateroom unoccupied, and he took it and set about changing his clothes. Last night he would not have believed that anything could be so pleasant as the cold water he dashed over his head and shoulders and the freshness of clean linen on his body.
+
+After he had dressed, Alexander sat down at the window and drew into his lungs deep breaths of the pine-scented air. He had awakened with all his old sense of power. He could not believe that things were as bad with him as they had seemed last night, that there was no way to set them entirely right. Even if he went to London at midsummer, what would that mean except that he was a fool? And he had been a fool before. That was not the reality of his life. Yet he knew that he would go to London.
+
+Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.
+
+“I’ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?”
+
+The young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.
+
+But Alexander cut him short. “When did you stop work?” he asked sharply.
+
+The young engineer looked confused. “I haven’t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn’t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.”
+
+“Then why didn’t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You’d have got it quick enough.”
+
+“Well, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn’t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn’t like to take the responsibility of making it public.”
+
+Alexander pushed back his chair and rose. “Anything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you’ve gone on adding weight.”
+
+“I’m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.”
+
+“Have you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.”
+
+Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: — 
+
+I may have to be here for some time. Can you come up at once? Urgent.
+
+BARTLEY.
+
+The Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town. When they were seated in the carriage, Alexander began to question his assistant further. If it were true that the compression members showed strain, with the bridge only two thirds done, then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again. Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates.
+
+Alexander grew impatient. “That’s all true, Phil, but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length. It’s all very well on paper, but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice. I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me. It’s all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know they’re not sound.”
+
+“But just now, when there is such competition,” the younger man demurred. “And certainly that’s the new line of development.”
+
+Alexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply.
+
+When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. “I think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we’ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried.” Alexander put on his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm. “Don’t look so chopfallen, Dan. It’s a jolt, but we’ve got to face it. It isn’t the end of the world, you know. Now we’ll go out and call the men off quietly. They’re already nervous, Horton tells me, and there’s no use alarming them. I’ll go with you, and we’ll send the end riveters in first.”
+
+Alexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the long span. They went deliberately, stopping to see what each gang was doing, as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection. When they reached the end of the river span, Alexander nodded to the superintendent, who quietly gave an order to the foreman. The men in the end gang picked up their tools and, glancing curiously at each other, started back across the bridge toward the river-bank. Alexander himself remained standing where they had been working, looking about him. It was hard to believe, as he looked back over it, that the whole great span was incurably disabled, was already as good as condemned, because something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm.
+
+The end riveters had reached the bank and were dispersing among the tool-houses, and the second gang had picked up their tools and were starting toward the shore. Alexander, still standing at the end of the river span, saw the lower chord of the cantilever arm give a little, like an elbow bending. He shouted and ran after the second gang, but by this time every one knew that the big river span was slowly settling. There was a burst of shouting that was immediately drowned by the scream and cracking of tearing iron, as all the tension work began to pull asunder. Once the chords began to buckle, there were thousands of tons of ironwork, all riveted together and lying in midair without support. It tore itself to pieces with roaring and grinding and noises that were like the shrieks of a steam whistle. There was no shock of any kind; the bridge had no impetus except from its own weight. It lurched neither to right nor left, but sank almost in a vertical line, snapping and breaking and tearing as it went, because no integral part could bear for an instant the enormous strain loosed upon it. Some of the men jumped and some ran, trying to make the shore.
+
+At the first shriek of the tearing iron, Alexander jumped from the downstream side of the bridge. He struck the water without injury and disappeared. He was under the river a long time and had great difficulty in holding his breath. When it seemed impossible, and his chest was about to heave, he thought he heard his wife telling him that he could hold out a little longer. An instant later his face cleared the water. For a moment, in the depths of the river, he had realized what it would mean to die a hypocrite, and to lie dead under the last abandonment of her tenderness. But once in the light and air, he knew he should live to tell her and to recover all he had lost. Now, at last, he felt sure of himself. He was not startled. It seemed to him that he had been through something of this sort before. There was nothing horrible about it. This, too, was life, and life was activity, just as it was in Boston or in London. He was himself, and there was something to be done; everything seemed perfectly natural. Alexander was a strong swimmer, but he had gone scarcely a dozen strokes when the bridge itself, which had been settling faster and faster, crashed into the water behind him. Immediately the river was full of drowning men. A gang of French Canadians fell almost on top of him. He thought he had cleared them, when they began coming up all around him, clutching at him and at each other. Some of them could swim, but they were either hurt or crazed with fright. Alexander tried to beat them off, but there were too many of them. One caught him about the neck, another gripped him about the middle, and they went down together. When he sank, his wife seemed to be there in the water beside him, telling him to keep his head, that if he could hold out the men would drown and release him. There was something he wanted to tell his wife, but he could not think clearly for the roaring in his ears. Suddenly he remembered what it was. He caught his breath, and then she let him go.
+
+The work of recovering the dead went on all day and all the following night. By the next morning forty-eight bodies had been taken out of the river, but there were still twenty missing. Many of the men had fallen with the bridge and were held down under the debris. Early on the morning of the second day a closed carriage was driven slowly along the river-bank and stopped a little below the works, where the river boiled and churned about the great iron carcass which lay in a straight line two thirds across it. The carriage stood there hour after hour, and word soon spread among the crowds on the shore that its occupant was the wife of the Chief Engineer; his body had not yet been found. The widows of the lost workmen, moving up and down the bank with shawls over their heads, some of them carrying babies, looked at the rusty hired hack many times that morning. They drew near it and walked about it, but none of them ventured to peer within. Even half-indifferent sightseers dropped their voices as they told a newcomer: “You see that carriage over there? That’s Mrs. Alexander. They haven’t found him yet. She got off the train this morning. Horton met her. She heard it in Boston yesterday — heard the newsboys crying it in the street.”
+
+At noon Philip Horton made his way through the crowd with a tray and a tin coffee-pot from the camp kitchen. When he reached the carriage he found Mrs. Alexander just as he had left her in the early morning, leaning forward a little, with her hand on the lowered window, looking at the river. Hour after hour she had been watching the water, the lonely, useless stone towers, and the convulsed mass of iron wreckage over which the angry river continually spat up its yellow foam.
+
+“Those poor women out there, do they blame him very much?” she asked, as she handed the coffee-cup back to Horton.
+
+“Nobody blames him, Mrs. Alexander. If any one is to blame, I’m afraid it’s I. I should have stopped work before he came. He said so as soon as I met him. I tried to get him here a day earlier, but my telegram missed him, somehow. He didn’t have time really to explain to me. If he’d got here Monday, he’d have had all the men off at once. But, you see, Mrs. Alexander, such a thing never happened before. According to all human calculations, it simply couldn’t happen.”
+
+Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.
+
+“Don’t be afraid to tell me the worst, Mr. Horton. Don’t leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying. If he is blamed, if he needs any one to speak for him,” — for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, — “if he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.” She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.
+
+When he came back at four o’clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.
+
+Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly: “Won’t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.”
+
+“Take me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.”
+
+The group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming, and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher. They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached, and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her. She was taller than Horton, and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen. “As tall as himself,” some one whispered. Horton motioned to the men, and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment. Winifred followed them the half-mile to Horton’s house. She walked quietly, without once breaking or stumbling. When the bearers put the stretcher down in Horton’s spare bedroom, she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn. The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands. They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill.
+
+Horton himself was almost as deeply perplexed. “Mamie,” he said to his wife, when he came out of the spare room half an hour later, “will you take Mrs. Alexander the things she needs? She is going to do everything herself. Just stay about where you can hear her and go in if she wants you.”
+
+Everything happened as Alexander had foreseen in that moment of prescience under the river. With her own hands she washed him clean of every mark of disaster. All night he was alone with her in the still house, his great head lying deep in the pillow. In the pocket of his coat Winifred found the letter that he had written her the night before he left New York, water-soaked and illegible, but because of its length, she knew it had been meant for her.
+
+For Alexander death was an easy creditor. Fortune, which had smiled upon him consistently all his life, did not desert him in the end. His harshest critics did not doubt that, had he lived, he would have retrieved himself. Even Lucius Wilson did not see in this accident the disaster he had once foretold.
+
+When a great man dies in his prime there is no surgeon who can say whether he did well; whether or not the future was his, as it seemed to be. The mind that society had come to regard as a powerful and reliable machine, dedicated to its service, may for a long time have been sick within itself and bent upon its own destruction.
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+Professor Wilson had been living in London for six years and he was just back from a visit to America. One afternoon, soon after his return, he put on his frock-coat and drove in a hansom to pay a call upon Hilda Burgoyne, who still lived at her old number, off Bedford Square. He and Miss Burgoyne had been fast friends for a long time. He had first noticed her about the corridors of the British Museum, where he read constantly. Her being there so often had made him feel that he would like to know her, and as she was not an inaccessible person, an introduction was not difficult. The preliminaries once over, they came to depend a great deal upon each other, and Wilson, after his day’s reading, often went round to Bedford Square for his tea. They had much more in common than their memories of a common friend. Indeed, they seldom spoke of him. They saved that for the deep moments which do not come often, and then their talk of him was mostly silence. Wilson knew that Hilda had loved him; more than this he had not tried to know.
+
+It was late when Wilson reached Hilda’s apartment on this particular December afternoon, and he found her alone. She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable, as she had such a knack of making people comfortable.
+
+“How good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You’ve helped me over a good many Christmases.” She smiled at him gayly.
+
+“As if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.”
+
+He peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.
+
+Hilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. “That means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn’t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.”
+
+Wilson took the cup gratefully. “Ah, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated — as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.”
+
+“Seventy? Never mention it to me.” Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor’s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. “You’ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can’t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You’re the realest thing I have.”
+
+Wilson chuckled. “Dear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You’ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You’ll visit me often, won’t you?”
+
+“Every day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.” She struck a match and lit one for him. “But you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.”
+
+“Ah, you saw Mrs. Alexander?”
+
+“Often. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.” The Professor looked reflectively into the grate. “I should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+Wilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry. “Why? Why, dear me, I don’t know. She probably never thought of it.”
+
+Hilda bit her lip. “I don’t know what made me say that. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.”
+
+“Well, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It’s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I’ve ever known. It’s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn’t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.”
+
+Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. “With a difference? Because of her, you mean?”
+
+Wilson’s brow wrinkled. “Something like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.”
+
+Hilda studied the droop of the Professor’s head intently. “You didn’t altogether like that? You felt it wasn’t wholly fair to him?”
+
+Wilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. “Oh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn’t square.”
+
+Hilda considered vaguely. “Has she grown much older?” she asked at last.
+
+“Yes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. ‘Forget thyself to marble’; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness à deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn’t even go through the form of seeing people much. I’m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.”
+
+“Perhaps she’s afraid of letting him out a little, of sharing him with somebody.”
+
+Wilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm. “Dear me, it takes a woman to think of that, now! I don’t, you know, think we ought to be hard on her. More, even, than the rest of us she didn’t choose her destiny. She underwent it. And it has left her chilled. As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence — well, it is a pretty brutal and stupid world, after all, you know.”
+
+Hilda leaned forward. “Yes, I know, I know. Only I can’t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.”
+
+Wilson nodded. “Oh, yes! He left an echo. The ripples go on in all of us. He belonged to the people who make the play, and most of us are only onlookers at the best. We shouldn’t wonder too much at Mrs. Alexander. She must feel how useless it would be to stir about, that she may as well sit still; that nothing can happen to her after Bartley.”
+
+“Yes,” said Hilda softly, “nothing can happen to one after Bartley.”
+
+They both sat looking into the fire.
+
+THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; And the music’s not immortal; but the world has made it sweet And fulfilled it with the sunset glow; And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light; And they’ve given it a glory and a part to play again In the Symphony that rules the day and the night.
+
+And now it’s marching onward through the realms of old romance, And trolling out a fond familiar tune, And now it’s roaring cannon down to fight the King of France, And now it’s prattling softly to the moon, And all around the organ there’s a sea without a shore Of human joys and wonders and regrets; To remember and to recompense the music evermore For what the cold machinery forgets. . . .
+
+Yes; as the music changes, Like a prismatic glass, It takes the light and ranges Through all the moods that pass; Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets, And gives the world a glimpse of all The colors it forgets.
+
+And there La Traviata sights Another sadder song; And there Il Trovatore cries A tale of deeper wrong; And bolder knights to battle go With sword and shield and lance, Than ever here on earth below Have whirled into — a dance! — 
+
+Go down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
+
+The cherry-trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume, The cherry-trees are seas of bloom (and oh, so near to London!) And there they say, when dawn is high and all the world’s a blaze of sky The cuckoo, though he’s very shy, will sing a song for London.
+
+The nightingale is rather rare and yet they say you’ll hear him there At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!) The linnet and the throstle, too, and after dark the long halloo And golden-eyed tu-whit, tu whoo of owls that ogle London.
+
+For Noah hardly knew a bird of any kind that isn’t heard At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!) And when the rose begins to pout and all the chestnut spires are out You’ll hear the rest without a doubt, all chorusing for London: — 
+
+Come down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
+
+And then the troubadour begins to thrill the golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; And in all the gaudy busses there are scores of weary feet Marking time, sweet time, with a dull mechanic beat, And a thousand hearts are plunging to a love they’ll never meet, Through the meadows of the sunset, through the poppies and the wheat, In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+Verdi, Verdi, when you wrote Il Trovatore did you dream Of the City when the sun sinks low Of the organ and the monkey and the many-colored stream On the Piccadilly pavement, of the myriad eyes that seem To be litten for a moment with a wild Italian gleam As A che la morte parodies the world’s eternal theme And pulses with the sunset glow?
+
+There’s a thief, perhaps, that listens with a face of frozen stone In the City as the sun sinks low; There’s a portly man of business with a balance of his own, There’s a clerk and there’s a butcher of a soft reposeful tone, And they’re all them returning to the heavens they have known: They are crammed and jammed in busses and — they’re each of them alone In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a very modish woman and her smile is very bland In the City as the sun sinks low; And her hansom jingles onward, but her little jeweled hand Is clenched a little tighter and she cannot understand What she wants or why she wanders to that undiscovered land, For the parties there are not at all the sort of thing she planned, In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s an Oxford man that listens and his heart is crying out In the City as the sun sinks low; For the barge the eight, the Isis, and the coach’s whoop and shout, For the minute gun, the counting and the long disheveled rout, For the howl along the tow-path and a fate that’s still in doubt, For a roughened oar to handle and a race to think about In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a laborer that listen to the voices of the dead In the City as the sun sinks low; And his hand begins to tremble and his face is rather red As he sees a loafer watching him and — there he turns his head And stares into the sunset where his April love is fled, For he hears her softly singing and his lonely soul is led Through the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s and old and hardened demi-rep, it’s ringing in her ears, In the City as the sun sinks low; With the wild and empty sorrow of the love that blights and sears, Oh, and if she hurries onward, then be sure, be sure she hears, Hears and bears the bitter burden of the unforgotten years, And her laugh’s a little harsher and her eyes are brimmed with tears For the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; Though the music’s only Verdi there’s a world to make it sweet Just as yonder yellow sunset where the earth and heaven meet Mellows all the sooty City! Hark, a hundred thousand feet Are marching on to glory through the poppies and the wheat In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+So it’s Jeremiah, Jeremiah, What have you to say When you meet the garland girls Tripping on their way?
+
+All around my gala hat I wear a wreath of roses (A long and lonely year it is I’ve waited for the May!)
+
+If any one should ask you, The reason why I wear it is, My own love, my true love, is coming home to-day.
+
+It’s buy a bunch of violets for the lady (It’s lilac time in London; it’s lilac time in London!) Buy a bunch of violets for the lady; While the sky burns blue above:
+
+On the other side of the street you’ll find it shady (It’s lilac time in London; it’s lilac time in London!) But buy a bunch of violets for the lady; And tell her she’s your own true love.
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks glittering and slow; And the music’s not immortal, but the world has made it sweet And enriched it with the harmonies that make a song complete In the deeper heavens of music where the night and morning meet, As it dies into the sunset glow;
+
+And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light, And they’ve given it a glory and a part of play again In the Symphony that rules the day and night.
+
+And there, as the music changes, The song runs round again; Once more it turns and ranges Through all its joy and pain: Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets; And the wheeling world remembers all The wheeling song forgets.
+
+Once more La Traviata sighs Another sadder song: Once more Il Trovatore cries A tale of deeper wrong; Once more the knights to battle go With sword and shield and lance, Till once, once more, the shattered foe Has whirled into — a dance! — 
+
+Come down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/1797/metadata.json b/benchmark/1797/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a5612544140ca6ebbc495b6a296bb6e8f1df3f54
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/1797/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "1797", "title": "Alexander's Bridge (version 3)", "description": "Alexander's Bridge is the first novel by Willa Cather, published under the name Willa Sibert Cather. Heavily influenced by the works of Henry James, the book tells the story of bridge builder Bartley Alexander. Through his relationship with Actress Hilda Burgoyne while he is married his wife, Winnifred, he meets his moral downfall, and through another set of circumstances he meets his physical. (Summary by Miranda Stinson)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/94", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1912", "num_sections": "11", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/1797", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/alexanders-bridge-version-3-by-willa-sibert-cather/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "2:29:39", "totaltimesecs": 8979, "authors": [{"id": "581", "first_name": "Willa", "last_name": "Cather", "dob": "1873", "dod": "1947"}], "genre": ["Romance"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["alexandersbridge_01_cather", "alexandersbridge_02_cather", "alexandersbridge_03_cather", "alexandersbridge_04_cather", "alexandersbridge_05_cather", "alexandersbridge_06_cather", "alexandersbridge_07_cather", "alexandersbridge_08_cather", "alexandersbridge_09_cather", "alexandersbridge_10_cather", "alexandersbridge_11_cather"], "readers": [["1509"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"], ["4446"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb.json b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..fe930f4a1c05f5ea9b1f3fce5d71ccfd701df25e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cWhat, is it over? Is that all?\u201d", "start_byte": 301878, "end_byte": 301910, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 137.19500183105467, "cut_end_time": 140.47000183105467, "narration": {"text": "The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out,", "cut_start_time": 141.18499755859375, "cut_end_time": 147.08006005859374, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come and see it.\n\nTwenty people sings out:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat, is it over? Is that all?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, \u201cSold!\u201d and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:\n\n\u201cHold on! Just a word, gentlemen.\u201d They stopped to listen. \u201cWe are sold \u2014 mighty badly sold. But we don\u2019t want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long as we live. No. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this show up, and sell the rest of the town! Then we\u2019ll all be in the same boat. Ain\u2019t that sensible", "narrative_information_pred": {"sings": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cHold on! Just a word, gentlemen.", "start_byte": 302118, "end_byte": 302151, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 157.54500549316407, "cut_end_time": 159.70000549316407, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come and see it.\n\nTwenty people sings out:\n\n\u201cWhat, is it over? Is that all?\u201d\n\nThe duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, \u201cSold!\u201d and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHold on! Just a word, gentlemen.\u201d<|quote_end|> They stopped to listen. \u201cWe are sold \u2014 mighty badly sold. But we don\u2019t want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long as we live. No. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this show up, and sell the rest of the town! Then we\u2019ll all be in the same boat. Ain\u2019t that sensible?\u201d (\u201cYou bet it is! \u2014 the jedge is right", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouts": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cYou bet it is! \u2014 the jedge is right!", "start_byte": 302500, "end_byte": 302537, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 184.30500488281248, "cut_end_time": 186.35006738281248, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, \u201cSold!\u201d and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:\n\n\u201cHold on! Just a word, gentlemen.\u201d They stopped to listen. \u201cWe are sold \u2014 mighty badly sold. But we don\u2019t want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long as we live. No. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this show up, and sell the rest of the town! Then we\u2019ll all be in the same boat. Ain\u2019t that sensible?\u201d (<|quote_start|>\u201cYou bet it is! \u2014 the jedge is right!\u201d<|quote_end|> everybody sings out.) \u201cAll right, then \u2014 not a word about any sell. Go along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy.\u201d\n\nNext day you couldn\u2019t hear nothing around that town but how splendid that show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all had a supper; and by-and-by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and hide her about two mile below town.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sings": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cAll right, then \u2014 not a word about any sell. Go along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy.\u201d", "start_byte": 302561, "end_byte": 302672, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 188.4250018310547, "cut_end_time": 195.27000183105469, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWe are sold \u2014 mighty badly sold. But we don\u2019t want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long as we live. No. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this show up, and sell the rest of the town! Then we\u2019ll all be in the same boat. Ain\u2019t that sensible?\u201d (\u201cYou bet it is! \u2014 the jedge is right!\u201d everybody sings out.) <|quote_start|>\u201cAll right, then \u2014 not a word about any sell. Go along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nNext day you couldn\u2019t hear nothing around that town but how splendid that show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all had a supper; and by-and-by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and hide her about two mile below town.\n\nThe third night the house was crammed again \u2014 and they warn\u2019t new-comers this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat \u2014 and I see it warn\u2019t no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me; I couldn\u2019t stand it. Well, when the place couldn\u2019t hold no more people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him; but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cWalk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!\u201d", "start_byte": 303931, "end_byte": 304040, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 276.4050122070313, "cut_end_time": 282.8600747070313, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "The third night the house was crammed again \u2014 and they warn\u2019t new-comers this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat \u2014 and I see it warn\u2019t no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me; I couldn\u2019t stand it. Well, when the place couldn\u2019t hold no more people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him; but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWalk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, and says:\n\n\u201cWell, how\u2019d the old thing pan out this time, duke?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cWell, how\u2019d the old thing pan out this time, duke?\u201d", "start_byte": 304414, "end_byte": 304466, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 306.0350134277344, "cut_end_time": 309.4600134277344, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWalk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!\u201d\n\nI done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, how\u2019d the old thing pan out this time, duke?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe hadn\u2019t been up town at all.\n\nWe never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed their bones loose over the way they\u2019d served them people. The duke says:\n\n\u201cGreenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they\u2019d lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, and I\u2019d give something to know how much they\u2019d take for it. I would just like to know how they\u2019re putting in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnic if they want to \u2014 they brought plenty provisions.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d", "start_byte": 305344, "end_byte": 305401, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 366.43501220703126, "cut_end_time": 369.56001220703126, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGreenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they\u2019d lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, and I\u2019d give something to know how much they\u2019d take for it. I would just like to know how they\u2019re putting in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnic if they want to \u2014 they brought plenty provisions.\u201d\n\nThem rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d", "start_byte": 305430, "end_byte": 305451, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 372.6449853515625, "cut_end_time": 374.0600478515625, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGreenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they\u2019d lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, and I\u2019d give something to know how much they\u2019d take for it. I would just like to know how they\u2019re putting in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnic if they want to \u2014 they brought plenty provisions.\u201d\n\nThem rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs dat so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d", "start_byte": 305453, "end_byte": 305525, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 374.8249938964844, "cut_end_time": 379.0701188964844, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGreenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they\u2019d lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, and I\u2019d give something to know how much they\u2019d take for it. I would just like to know how they\u2019re putting in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnic if they want to \u2014 they brought plenty provisions.\u201d\n\nThem rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs dat so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d", "start_byte": 305527, "end_byte": 305633, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 379.0250085449219, "cut_end_time": 387.1300710449219, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs dat so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d", "start_byte": 305635, "end_byte": 305728, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 387.78501464843754, "cut_end_time": 393.30007714843754, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t it s\u2019prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIs dat so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cIs dat so?\u201d", "start_byte": 305730, "end_byte": 305742, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 393.95500976562505, "cut_end_time": 395.53000976562504, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo,\u201d I says, \u201cit don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t it, Huck?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it don\u2019t, because it\u2019s in the breed. I reckon they\u2019re all alike.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Huck, dese kings o\u2019 ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat\u2019s jist what dey is; dey\u2019s reglar rapscallions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIs dat so?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d", "start_byte": 308241, "end_byte": 308288, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 566.3049731445312, "cut_end_time": 570.0800356445312, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d", "start_byte": 308290, "end_byte": 308379, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 570.5449902343751, "cut_end_time": 576.890052734375, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d", "start_byte": 308381, "end_byte": 308436, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 577.4649731445313, "cut_end_time": 581.6000981445312, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d", "start_byte": 308438, "end_byte": 308608, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 582.0250268554688, "cut_end_time": 591.9300268554688, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d\n\nWhat was the use to tell Jim these warn\u2019t real kings and dukes? It wouldn\u2019t a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you couldn\u2019t tell them from the real kind.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d", "start_byte": 308610, "end_byte": 308690, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 592.9049926757813, "cut_end_time": 599.7900551757813, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou read about them once \u2014 you\u2019ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this\u2019n \u2019s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. \u2018Fetch up Nell Gwynn,\u2019 he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head!\u2019 And they chop it off. \u2018Fetch up Jane Shore,\u2019 he says; and up she comes, Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head\u2019 \u2014 and they chop it off. \u2018Ring up Fair Rosamun.\u2019 Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, \u2018Chop off her head.\u2019 And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book \u2014 which was a good name and stated the case. You don\u2019t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I\u2019ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it \u2014 give notice? \u2014 give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style \u2014 he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No \u2014 drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S\u2019pose people left money laying around where he was \u2014 what did he do? He collared it. S\u2019pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn\u2019t set down there and see that he done it \u2014 what did he do? He always done the other thing. S\u2019pose he opened his mouth \u2014 what then? If he didn\u2019t shut it up powerful quick he\u2019d lose a lie every time. That\u2019s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we\u2019d a had him along \u2019stead of our kings he\u2019d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don\u2019t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain\u2019t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain\u2019t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they\u2019re a mighty ornery lot. It\u2019s the way they\u2019re raised.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d\n\nWhat was the use to tell Jim these warn\u2019t real kings and dukes? It wouldn\u2019t a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you couldn\u2019t tell them from the real kind.\n\nI went to sleep, and Jim didn\u2019t call me when it was my turn. He often done that. When I waked up just at daybreak, he was sitting there with his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I didn\u2019t take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low and homesick; because he hadn\u2019t ever been away from home before in his life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white folks does for their\u2019n. It don\u2019t seem natural, but I reckon it\u2019s so. He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was asleep, and saying,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d", "start_byte": 308692, "end_byte": 308881, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 600.3449877929688, "cut_end_time": 610.7601127929688, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, they all do, Jim. We can\u2019t help the way a king smells; history don\u2019t tell no way.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow de duke, he\u2019s a tolerble likely man in some ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a duke\u2019s different. But not very different. This one\u2019s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he\u2019s drunk, there ain\u2019t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, anyways, I doan\u2019 hanker for no mo\u2019 un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan\u2019.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we\u2019ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that\u2019s out of kings.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWhat was the use to tell Jim these warn\u2019t real kings and dukes? It wouldn\u2019t a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you couldn\u2019t tell them from the real kind.\n\nI went to sleep, and Jim didn\u2019t call me when it was my turn. He often done that. When I waked up just at daybreak, he was sitting there with his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I didn\u2019t take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low and homesick; because he hadn\u2019t ever been away from home before in his life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white folks does for their\u2019n. It don\u2019t seem natural, but I reckon it\u2019s so. He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was asleep, and saying,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cPo\u2019 little \u2019Lizabeth! po\u2019 little Johnny! it\u2019s mighty hard; I spec\u2019 I ain\u2019t ever gwyne to see you no mo\u2019, no mo\u2019!", "start_byte": 309705, "end_byte": 309818, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 666.7249975585938, "cut_end_time": 676.1000600585937, "narration": {"text": " and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:", "cut_start_time": 147.8950030517578, "cut_end_time": 156.4700655517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "I went to sleep, and Jim didn\u2019t call me when it was my turn. He often done that. When I waked up just at daybreak, he was sitting there with his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I didn\u2019t take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low and homesick; because he hadn\u2019t ever been away from home before in his life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white folks does for their\u2019n. It don\u2019t seem natural, but I reckon it\u2019s so. He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was asleep, and saying, <|quote_start|>\u201cPo\u2019 little \u2019Lizabeth! po\u2019 little Johnny! it\u2019s mighty hard; I spec\u2019 I ain\u2019t ever gwyne to see you no mo\u2019, no mo\u2019!\u201d<|quote_end|> He was a mighty good nigger, Jim was.\n\nBut this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young ones; and by-and-by he says:\n\n\u201cWhat makes me feel so bad dis time \u2019uz bekase I hear sumpn over yonder on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time I treat my little \u2019Lizabeth so ornery. She warn\u2019t on\u2019y \u2019bout fo\u2019 year ole, en she tuck de sk\u2019yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell; but she got well, en one day she was a-stannin\u2019 aroun\u2019, en I says to her, I says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_23_twain_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb.json b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..cfde8f393e13c3b080e848c484983f48aa5aedd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cSeein\u2019 how I\u2019m dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, Huckleberry; we\u2019ll come down to the village on her.\u201d", "start_byte": 314865, "end_byte": 315055, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 241.10500671386717, "cut_end_time": 253.8100692138672, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there was so much money in it, but they judged it wouldn\u2019t be safe, because maybe the news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn\u2019t hit no project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said he reckoned he\u2019d lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn\u2019t put up something on the Arkansaw village; and the king he allowed he would drop over to t\u2019other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence to lead him the profitable way \u2014 meaning the devil, I reckon. We had all bought store clothes where we stopped last; and now the king put his\u2019n on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king\u2019s duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked like the orneriest old rip that ever was; but now, when he\u2019d take off his new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand and good and pious that you\u2019d say he had walked right out of the ark, and maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away up under the point, about three mile above the town \u2014 been there a couple of hours, taking on freight. Says the king:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSeein\u2019 how I\u2019m dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, Huckleberry; we\u2019ll come down to the village on her.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI didn\u2019t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.\n\n\u201cRun her nose in shore,\u201d says the king. I done it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cRun her nose in shore,", "start_byte": 315441, "end_byte": 315464, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 277.7950061035157, "cut_end_time": 279.26006860351566, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\u201cSeein\u2019 how I\u2019m dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, Huckleberry; we\u2019ll come down to the village on her.\u201d\n\nI didn\u2019t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cRun her nose in shore,\u201d<|quote_end|> says the king. I done it. \u201cWher\u2019 you bound for, young man?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the steamboat; going to Orleans.\u201d\n\n\u201cGit aboard,\u201d says the king. \u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus\u201d \u2014 meaning me, I see.\n\nI done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he\u2019d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cWher\u2019 you bound for, young man?\u201d", "start_byte": 315492, "end_byte": 315525, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 281.96500976562504, "cut_end_time": 284.90000976562504, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.\n\n\u201cRun her nose in shore,\u201d says the king. I done it. <|quote_start|>\u201cWher\u2019 you bound for, young man?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cFor the steamboat; going to Orleans.\u201d\n\n\u201cGit aboard,\u201d says the king. \u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus\u201d \u2014 meaning me, I see.\n\nI done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he\u2019d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"done": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cFor the steamboat; going to Orleans.\u201d", "start_byte": 315527, "end_byte": 315565, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 284.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 287.4100502929688, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.\n\n\u201cRun her nose in shore,\u201d says the king. I done it. \u201cWher\u2019 you bound for, young man?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFor the steamboat; going to Orleans.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cGit aboard,\u201d says the king. \u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus\u201d \u2014 meaning me, I see.\n\nI done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he\u2019d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus", "start_byte": 315596, "end_byte": 315696, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 290.65499389648437, "cut_end_time": 296.8501188964844, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.\n\n\u201cRun her nose in shore,\u201d says the king. I done it. \u201cWher\u2019 you bound for, young man?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the steamboat; going to Orleans.\u201d\n\n\u201cGit aboard,\u201d says the king. <|quote_start|>\u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 meaning me, I see.\n\nI done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he\u2019d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:\n\n\u201cWhen I first see you I says to myself, \u2018It\u2019s Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.\u2019 But then I says again, \u2018No, I reckon it ain\u2019t him, or else he wouldn\u2019t be paddling up the river.\u2019 You ain\u2019t him, are you?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cWhen I first see you I says to myself, \u2018It\u2019s Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.\u2019 But then I says again, \u2018No, I reckon it ain\u2019t him, or else he wouldn\u2019t be paddling up the river.\u2019 You ain\u2019t him, are you?\u201d", "start_byte": 316094, "end_byte": 316326, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 321.69498535156254, "cut_end_time": 337.3701103515625, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHold on a minute, my servant \u2019ll he\u2019p you with them bags. Jump out and he\u2019p the gentleman, Adolphus\u201d \u2014 meaning me, I see.\n\nI done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he\u2019d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhen I first see you I says to myself, \u2018It\u2019s Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.\u2019 But then I says again, \u2018No, I reckon it ain\u2019t him, or else he wouldn\u2019t be paddling up the river.\u2019 You ain\u2019t him, are you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, my name\u2019s Blodgett \u2014 Elexander Blodgett \u2014 Reverend Elexander Blodgett, I s\u2019pose I must say, as I\u2019m one o\u2019 the Lord\u2019s poor servants. But still I\u2019m jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving in time, all the same, if he\u2019s missed anything by it \u2014 which I hope he hasn\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, he don\u2019t miss any property by it, because he\u2019ll get that all right; but he\u2019s missed seeing his brother Peter die \u2014 which he mayn\u2019t mind, nobody can tell as to that \u2014 but his brother would a give anything in this world to see him before he died; never talked about nothing else all these three weeks; hadn\u2019t seen him since they was boys together \u2014 and hadn\u2019t ever seen his brother William at all \u2014 that\u2019s the deef and dumb one \u2014 William ain\u2019t more than thirty or thirty-five. Peter and George were the only ones that come out here; George was the married brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William\u2019s the only ones that\u2019s left now; and, as I was saying, they haven\u2019t got here in time.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cDid anybody send \u2019em word?\u201d", "start_byte": 317331, "end_byte": 317359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 404.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 406.1300036621094, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, he don\u2019t miss any property by it, because he\u2019ll get that all right; but he\u2019s missed seeing his brother Peter die \u2014 which he mayn\u2019t mind, nobody can tell as to that \u2014 but his brother would a give anything in this world to see him before he died; never talked about nothing else all these three weeks; hadn\u2019t seen him since they was boys together \u2014 and hadn\u2019t ever seen his brother William at all \u2014 that\u2019s the deef and dumb one \u2014 William ain\u2019t more than thirty or thirty-five. Peter and George were the only ones that come out here; George was the married brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William\u2019s the only ones that\u2019s left now; and, as I was saying, they haven\u2019t got here in time.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDid anybody send \u2019em word?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn\u2019t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George\u2019s g\u2019yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn\u2019t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey \u2014 and William, too, for that matter \u2014 because he was one of them kind that can\u2019t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he\u2019d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George\u2019s g\u2019yirls would be all right \u2014 for George didn\u2019t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cWhy do you reckon Harvey don\u2019t come? Wher\u2019 does he live?\u201d", "start_byte": 318154, "end_byte": 318212, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 455.5350012207031, "cut_end_time": 458.62000122070316, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn\u2019t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George\u2019s g\u2019yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn\u2019t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey \u2014 and William, too, for that matter \u2014 because he was one of them kind that can\u2019t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he\u2019d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George\u2019s g\u2019yirls would be all right \u2014 for George didn\u2019t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy do you reckon Harvey don\u2019t come? Wher\u2019 does he live?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 318214, "end_byte": 318397, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 459.57499511718754, "cut_end_time": 470.7001201171875, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn\u2019t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George\u2019s g\u2019yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn\u2019t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey \u2014 and William, too, for that matter \u2014 because he was one of them kind that can\u2019t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he\u2019d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George\u2019s g\u2019yirls would be all right \u2014 for George didn\u2019t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you reckon Harvey don\u2019t come? Wher\u2019 does he live?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d\n\n\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d", "start_byte": 318399, "end_byte": 318500, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 471.2150122070313, "cut_end_time": 477.8400122070313, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn\u2019t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George\u2019s g\u2019yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn\u2019t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey \u2014 and William, too, for that matter \u2014 because he was one of them kind that can\u2019t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he\u2019d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George\u2019s g\u2019yirls would be all right \u2014 for George didn\u2019t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you reckon Harvey don\u2019t come? Wher\u2019 does he live?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d\n\n\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d", "start_byte": 318502, "end_byte": 318618, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 478.484990234375, "cut_end_time": 486.870052734375, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn\u2019t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George\u2019s g\u2019yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn\u2019t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey \u2014 and William, too, for that matter \u2014 because he was one of them kind that can\u2019t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he\u2019d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George\u2019s g\u2019yirls would be all right \u2014 for George didn\u2019t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you reckon Harvey don\u2019t come? Wher\u2019 does he live?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d\n\n\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain\u2019t going to let them come to no harm. There\u2019s Hobson, the Babtis\u2019 preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and \u2014 well, there\u2019s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey \u2019ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d", "start_byte": 318620, "end_byte": 318739, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 487.6849987792969, "cut_end_time": 496.5300612792969, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain\u2019t going to let them come to no harm. There\u2019s Hobson, the Babtis\u2019 preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and \u2014 well, there\u2019s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey \u2019ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d", "start_byte": 318741, "end_byte": 318879, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 497.22499145507817, "cut_end_time": 505.60011645507814, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, he lives in England \u2014 Sheffield \u2014 preaches there \u2014 hasn\u2019t ever been in this country. He hasn\u2019t had any too much time \u2014 and besides he mightn\u2019t a got the letter at all, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain\u2019t going to let them come to no harm. There\u2019s Hobson, the Babtis\u2019 preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and \u2014 well, there\u2019s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey \u2019ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d", "start_byte": 318881, "end_byte": 318934, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 506.1450036621094, "cut_end_time": 510.9500036621094, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cToo bad, too bad he couldn\u2019t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but that ain\u2019t only a part of it. I\u2019m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pretty long journey. But it\u2019ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?\u201d\n\n\u201cMary Jane\u2019s nineteen, Susan\u2019s fifteen, and Joanna\u2019s about fourteen \u2014 that\u2019s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cPoor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain\u2019t going to let them come to no harm. There\u2019s Hobson, the Babtis\u2019 preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and \u2014 well, there\u2019s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey \u2019ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d", "start_byte": 319818, "end_byte": 319882, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 566.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 569.4900576171875, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain\u2019t going to let them come to no harm. There\u2019s Hobson, the Babtis\u2019 preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and \u2014 well, there\u2019s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey \u2019ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.\u201d\n\nWell, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied that young fellow. Blamed if he didn\u2019t inquire about everybody and everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about Peter\u2019s business \u2014 which was a tanner; and about George\u2019s \u2014 which was a carpenter; and about Harvey\u2019s \u2014 which was a dissentering minister; and so on, and so on. Then he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d", "start_byte": 319884, "end_byte": 320060, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 570.445, "cut_end_time": 580.35, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied that young fellow. Blamed if he didn\u2019t inquire about everybody and everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about Peter\u2019s business \u2014 which was a tanner; and about George\u2019s \u2014 which was a carpenter; and about Harvey\u2019s \u2014 which was a dissentering minister; and so on, and so on. Then he says:\n\n\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d", "start_byte": 320062, "end_byte": 320089, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 581.465, "cut_end_time": 583.3800625, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied that young fellow. Blamed if he didn\u2019t inquire about everybody and everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about Peter\u2019s business \u2014 which was a tanner; and about George\u2019s \u2014 which was a carpenter; and about Harvey\u2019s \u2014 which was a dissentering minister; and so on, and so on. Then he says:\n\n\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d", "start_byte": 320091, "end_byte": 320215, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 583.815029296875, "cut_end_time": 590.900091796875, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied that young fellow. Blamed if he didn\u2019t inquire about everybody and everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about Peter\u2019s business \u2014 which was a tanner; and about George\u2019s \u2014 which was a carpenter; and about Harvey\u2019s \u2014 which was a dissentering minister; and so on, and so on. Then he says:\n\n\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d", "start_byte": 320217, "end_byte": 320244, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 591.5750292968751, "cut_end_time": 593.150091796875, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d", "start_byte": 320246, "end_byte": 320284, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 593.4550170898438, "cut_end_time": 595.4300170898438, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhat did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d", "start_byte": 320286, "end_byte": 320314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 595.9849926757813, "cut_end_time": 597.5001176757813, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d", "start_byte": 320316, "end_byte": 320351, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 598.0150268554688, "cut_end_time": 599.8300893554688, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d", "start_byte": 320353, "end_byte": 320492, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 600.8550146484375, "cut_end_time": 609.7700771484375, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBecause she\u2019s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn\u2019t stop there. When they\u2019re deep they won\u2019t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas Peter Wilks well off?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:\n\n\u201cNow hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpet-bags. And if he\u2019s gone over to t\u2019other side, go over there and git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d", "start_byte": 320494, "end_byte": 320552, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 610.0950268554687, "cut_end_time": 613.9700268554687, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it\u2019s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som\u2019ers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you say he died?\u201d\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say, but it was last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuneral to-morrow, likely?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019bout the middle of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:\n\n\u201cNow hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpet-bags. And if he\u2019s gone over to t\u2019other side, go over there and git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cNow hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpet-bags. And if he\u2019s gone over to t\u2019other side, go over there and git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now.\u201d", "start_byte": 320831, "end_byte": 321040, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.2850170898438, "cut_end_time": 645.3000795898438, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s all terrible sad; but we\u2019ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we\u2019re all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it\u2019s the best way. Ma used to always say that.\u201d\n\nWhen we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNow hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpet-bags. And if he\u2019s gone over to t\u2019other side, go over there and git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI see what he was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When I got back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a log, and the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had said it \u2014 every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it he tried to talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, for a slouch. I can\u2019t imitate him, and so I ain\u2019t a-going to try to; but he really done it pretty good. Then he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cHow are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?\u201d", "start_byte": 321507, "end_byte": 321554, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 675.0849877929687, "cut_end_time": 677.5100502929688, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "I see what he was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When I got back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a log, and the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had said it \u2014 every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it he tried to talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, for a slouch. I can\u2019t imitate him, and so I ain\u2019t a-going to try to; but he really done it pretty good. Then he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHow are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.\n\nAbout the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, but they didn\u2019t come from high enough up the river; but at last there was a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and said they wouldn\u2019t land us. But the king was ca\u2019m. He says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cIf gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry \u2019em, can\u2019t it?\u201d", "start_byte": 322120, "end_byte": 322259, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 712.525029296875, "cut_end_time": 720.750029296875, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, but they didn\u2019t come from high enough up the river; but at last there was a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and said they wouldn\u2019t land us. But the king was ca\u2019m. He says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIf gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry \u2019em, can\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says:\n\n\u201cKin any of you gentlemen tell me wher\u2019 Mr. Peter Wilks lives?\u201d they give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, \u201cWhat d\u2019 I tell you?\u201d Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cKin any of you gentlemen tell me wher\u2019 Mr. Peter Wilks lives?", "start_byte": 322455, "end_byte": 322517, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 735.1550048828125, "cut_end_time": 738.9200048828126, "narration": {"text": "The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.", "cut_start_time": 678.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 686.5500454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, but they didn\u2019t come from high enough up the river; but at last there was a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and said they wouldn\u2019t land us. But the king was ca\u2019m. He says:\n\n\u201cIf gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry \u2019em, can\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nSo they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cKin any of you gentlemen tell me wher\u2019 Mr. Peter Wilks lives?\u201d<|quote_end|> they give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, \u201cWhat d\u2019 I tell you?\u201d Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.\u201d\n\nSudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.\u201d", "start_byte": 322668, "end_byte": 322759, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 748.775009765625, "cut_end_time": 755.650009765625, "narration": {"text": "Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:", "cut_start_time": 755.864970703125, "cut_end_time": 765.4200957031251, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "So they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says:\n\n\u201cKin any of you gentlemen tell me wher\u2019 Mr. Peter Wilks lives?\u201d they give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, \u201cWhat d\u2019 I tell you?\u201d Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:\n\n\u201cAlas, alas, our poor brother \u2014 gone, and we never got to see him; oh, it\u2019s too, too hard!\u201d\n\nThen he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to the duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn\u2019t drop a carpet-bag and bust out a-crying. If they warn\u2019t the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I struck.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "soft": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "gentle": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cAlas, alas, our poor brother \u2014 gone, and we never got to see him; oh, it\u2019s too, too hard!\u201d", "start_byte": 322918, "end_byte": 323009, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 765.865009765625, "cut_end_time": 772.9400722656251, "narration": {"text": "Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:", "cut_start_time": 755.864970703125, "cut_end_time": 765.4200957031251, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201d they give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, \u201cWhat d\u2019 I tell you?\u201d Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.\u201d\n\nSudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAlas, alas, our poor brother \u2014 gone, and we never got to see him; oh, it\u2019s too, too hard!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to the duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn\u2019t drop a carpet-bag and bust out a-crying. If they warn\u2019t the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I struck.\n\nWell, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all sorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpet-bags up the hill for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about his brother\u2019s last moments, and the king he told it all over again on his hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead tanner like they\u2019d lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I struck anything like it, I\u2019m a nigger. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_24_twain_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 35}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb.json b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6f09fe9d22196a31f227f839d7ace39ec6ba4f95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cBegone you Tige! you Spot! begone sah!", "start_byte": 432349, "end_byte": 432388, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 229.56500061035155, "cut_end_time": 233.17000061035156, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "When I got half-way, first one hound and then another got up and went for me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still. And such another powwow as they made! In a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a hub of a wheel, as you may say \u2014 spokes made out of dogs \u2014 circle of fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses stretched up towards me, a-barking and howling; and more a-coming; you could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres.\n\nA nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin in her hand, singing out, <|quote_start|>\u201cBegone you Tige! you Spot! begone sah!\u201d<|quote_end|> and she fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, and then the rest followed; and the next second half of them come back, wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me. There ain\u2019t no harm in a hound, nohow.\n\nAnd behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their mother\u2019s gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing. She was smiling all over so she could hardly stand \u2014 and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"singing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s you, at last! \u2014 ain\u2019t it?\u201d", "start_byte": 433172, "end_byte": 433204, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.8950134277344, "cut_end_time": 287.6900134277344, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their mother\u2019s gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing. She was smiling all over so she could hardly stand \u2014 and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s you, at last! \u2014 ain\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI out with a \u201cYes\u2019m\u201d before I thought.\n\nShe grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands and shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and she couldn\u2019t seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, \u201cYou don\u2019t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I don\u2019t care for that, I\u2019m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it\u2019s your cousin Tom! \u2014 tell him howdy.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cYou don\u2019t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I don\u2019t care for that, I\u2019m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it\u2019s your cousin Tom! \u2014 tell him howdy.\u201d", "start_byte": 433452, "end_byte": 433680, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 304.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 318.72000976562504, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their mother\u2019s gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing. She was smiling all over so she could hardly stand \u2014 and says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s you, at last! \u2014 ain\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nI out with a \u201cYes\u2019m\u201d before I thought.\n\nShe grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands and shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and she couldn\u2019t seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, <|quote_start|>\u201cYou don\u2019t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I don\u2019t care for that, I\u2019m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it\u2019s your cousin Tom! \u2014 tell him howdy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBut they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:\n\n\u201cLize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away \u2014 or did you get your breakfast on the boat?\u201d\n\nI said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cLize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away \u2014 or did you get your breakfast on the boat?\u201d", "start_byte": 433786, "end_byte": 433886, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 325.79501464843753, "cut_end_time": 331.2400146484375, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "She grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands and shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and she couldn\u2019t seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, \u201cYou don\u2019t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I don\u2019t care for that, I\u2019m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it\u2019s your cousin Tom! \u2014 tell him howdy.\u201d\n\nBut they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cLize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away \u2014 or did you get your breakfast on the boat?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says:\n\n\u201cNow I can have a good look at you; and, laws-a-me, I\u2019ve been hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it\u2019s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep\u2019 you? \u2014 boat get aground?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"run": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cNow I can have a good look at you; and, laws-a-me, I\u2019ve been hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it\u2019s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep\u2019 you? \u2014 boat get aground?\u201d", "start_byte": 434169, "end_byte": 434400, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 349.52498901367187, "cut_end_time": 365.2200515136719, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:\n\n\u201cLize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away \u2014 or did you get your breakfast on the boat?\u201d\n\nI said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNow I can have a good look at you; and, laws-a-me, I\u2019ve been hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it\u2019s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep\u2019 you? \u2014 boat get aground?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes\u2019m \u2014 she \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t say yes\u2019m \u2014 say Aunt Sally. Where\u2019d she get aground?\u201d\n\nI didn\u2019t rightly know what to say, because I didn\u2019t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up \u2014 from down towards Orleans. That didn\u2019t help me much, though; for I didn\u2019t know the names of bars down that way. I see I\u2019d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on \u2014 or \u2014 Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t say yes\u2019m \u2014 say Aunt Sally. Where\u2019d she get aground?\u201d", "start_byte": 434420, "end_byte": 434480, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 367.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 371.8901140136719, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "I said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says:\n\n\u201cNow I can have a good look at you; and, laws-a-me, I\u2019ve been hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it\u2019s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep\u2019 you? \u2014 boat get aground?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2019m \u2014 she \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t say yes\u2019m \u2014 say Aunt Sally. Where\u2019d she get aground?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI didn\u2019t rightly know what to say, because I didn\u2019t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up \u2014 from down towards Orleans. That didn\u2019t help me much, though; for I didn\u2019t know the names of bars down that way. I see I\u2019d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on \u2014 or \u2014 Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cIt warn\u2019t the grounding \u2014 that didn\u2019t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.\u201d", "start_byte": 434915, "end_byte": 435012, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 401.3750048828125, "cut_end_time": 407.3200048828125, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t rightly know what to say, because I didn\u2019t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up \u2014 from down towards Orleans. That didn\u2019t help me much, though; for I didn\u2019t know the names of bars down that way. I see I\u2019d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on \u2014 or \u2014 Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt warn\u2019t the grounding \u2014 that didn\u2019t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cGood gracious! anybody hurt?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2019m. Killed a nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"fetch": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cGood gracious! anybody hurt?\u201d", "start_byte": 435014, "end_byte": 435044, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 407.98498779296875, "cut_end_time": 410.7301127929688, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t rightly know what to say, because I didn\u2019t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up \u2014 from down towards Orleans. That didn\u2019t help me much, though; for I didn\u2019t know the names of bars down that way. I see I\u2019d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on \u2014 or \u2014 Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:\n\n\u201cIt warn\u2019t the grounding \u2014 that didn\u2019t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cGood gracious! anybody hurt?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo\u2019m. Killed a nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cNo\u2019m. Killed a nigger.\u201d", "start_byte": 435046, "end_byte": 435070, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 410.72501464843754, "cut_end_time": 412.79007714843755, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "I didn\u2019t rightly know what to say, because I didn\u2019t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up \u2014 from down towards Orleans. That didn\u2019t help me much, though; for I didn\u2019t know the names of bars down that way. I see I\u2019d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on \u2014 or \u2014 Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:\n\n\u201cIt warn\u2019t the grounding \u2014 that didn\u2019t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious! anybody hurt?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo\u2019m. Killed a nigger.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d", "start_byte": 435876, "end_byte": 436132, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 465.05498657226565, "cut_end_time": 481.8601115722656, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d", "start_byte": 436134, "end_byte": 436166, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 481.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 483.550009765625, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cNobody.\u201d", "start_byte": 436168, "end_byte": 436177, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 483.9049926757813, "cut_end_time": 485.05005517578127, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNobody.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d", "start_byte": 436179, "end_byte": 436208, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 484.98499145507816, "cut_end_time": 486.9901164550781, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,", "start_byte": 436210, "end_byte": 436248, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 487.2250085449219, "cut_end_time": 489.2600710449219, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, it\u2019s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn\u2019t save him. Yes, it was mortification \u2014 that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle\u2019s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he\u2019s gone again, not more\u2019n an hour ago; he\u2019ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn\u2019t you? \u2014 oldish man, with a \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d<|quote_end|> I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d", "start_byte": 436259, "end_byte": 436311, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 490.20501220703125, "cut_end_time": 493.5900122070313, "narration": {"text": "But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:", "cut_start_time": 319.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 325.700115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d", "start_byte": 436350, "end_byte": 436529, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 496.5049890136719, "cut_end_time": 507.7001140136719, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho\u2019d you give the baggage to?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, child, it\u2019ll be stole!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot where I hid it I reckon it won\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cHow\u2019d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?\u201d\n\nIt was kinder thin ice, but I says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThe captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers\u2019 lunch, and give me all I wanted.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI was getting so uneasy I couldn\u2019t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn\u2019t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:\n\n\u201cBut here we\u2019re a-running on this way, and you hain\u2019t told me a word about Sis, nor any of them. Now I\u2019ll rest my works a little, and you start up yourn; just tell me everything \u2014 tell me all about \u2019m all every one of \u2019m; and how they are, and what they\u2019re doing, and what they told you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cHere he comes! Stick your head down lower \u2014 there, that\u2019ll do; you can\u2019t be seen now. Don\u2019t you let on you\u2019re here. I\u2019ll play a joke on him. Children, don\u2019t you say a word.\u201d", "start_byte": 437571, "end_byte": 437745, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 576.8850146484375, "cut_end_time": 588.1500146484375, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Well, I see I was up a stump \u2014 and up it good. Providence had stood by me this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it warn\u2019t a bit of use to try to go ahead \u2014 I\u2019d got to throw up my hand. So I says to myself, here\u2019s another place where I got to resk the truth. I opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the bed, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHere he comes! Stick your head down lower \u2014 there, that\u2019ll do; you can\u2019t be seen now. Don\u2019t you let on you\u2019re here. I\u2019ll play a joke on him. Children, don\u2019t you say a word.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cHas he come?\u201d", "start_byte": 438053, "end_byte": 438067, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 608.3449951171875, "cut_end_time": 609.5301201171875, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere he comes! Stick your head down lower \u2014 there, that\u2019ll do; you can\u2019t be seen now. Don\u2019t you let on you\u2019re here. I\u2019ll play a joke on him. Children, don\u2019t you say a word.\u201d\n\nI see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHas he come?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cGood-ness gracious!", "start_byte": 438094, "end_byte": 438114, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 611.8449926757813, "cut_end_time": 613.5700551757812, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere he comes! Stick your head down lower \u2014 there, that\u2019ll do; you can\u2019t be seen now. Don\u2019t you let on you\u2019re here. I\u2019ll play a joke on him. Children, don\u2019t you say a word.\u201d\n\nI see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d<|quote_end|> she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d", "start_byte": 438126, "end_byte": 438169, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 614.5650024414062, "cut_end_time": 616.8700649414063, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere he comes! Stick your head down lower \u2014 there, that\u2019ll do; you can\u2019t be seen now. Don\u2019t you let on you\u2019re here. I\u2019ll play a joke on him. Children, don\u2019t you say a word.\u201d\n\nI see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, <|quote_start|>\u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,", "start_byte": 438171, "end_byte": 438188, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 616.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 618.1600673828125, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "I see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d<|quote_end|> says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d", "start_byte": 438214, "end_byte": 438259, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 619.255029296875, "cut_end_time": 622.3400292968751, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "I see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; <|quote_start|>\u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d", "start_byte": 438281, "end_byte": 438404, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 623.8750048828125, "cut_end_time": 632.5600048828126, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "I see I was in a fix now. But it warn\u2019t no use to worry; there warn\u2019t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.\n\nI had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; <|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d", "start_byte": 438406, "end_byte": 438471, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.54498046875, "cut_end_time": 636.82004296875, "narration": {"text": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:", "cut_start_time": 599.4650170898437, "cut_end_time": 607.7900170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:\n\n\u201cHas he come?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says her husband.\n\n\u201cGood-ness gracious!\u201d she says, \u201cwhat in the warld can have become of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d", "start_byte": 438560, "end_byte": 438895, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 644.5449755859376, "cut_end_time": 663.9701005859375, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201d says the old gentleman; \u201cand I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cUneasy!\u201d she says; \u201cI\u2019m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you\u2019ve missed him along the road. I know it\u2019s so \u2014 something tells me so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Sally, I couldn\u2019t miss him along the road \u2014 you know that.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, Silas! Look yonder! \u2014 up the road! \u2014 ain\u2019t that somebody coming?\u201d\n\nHe sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, Silas! Look yonder! \u2014 up the road! \u2014 ain\u2019t that somebody coming?\u201d", "start_byte": 438897, "end_byte": 438968, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 663.9250048828126, "cut_end_time": 668.2900673828125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t distress me any more\u2019n I\u2019m already distressed. I don\u2019t know what in the world to make of it. I\u2019m at my wit\u2019s end, and I don\u2019t mind acknowledging \u2019t I\u2019m right down scared. But there\u2019s no hope that he\u2019s come; for he couldn\u2019t come and me miss him. Sally, it\u2019s terrible \u2014 just terrible \u2014 something\u2019s happened to the boat, sure!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, Silas! Look yonder! \u2014 up the road! \u2014 ain\u2019t that somebody coming?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d", "start_byte": 439336, "end_byte": 439354, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 689.915009765625, "cut_end_time": 691.730009765625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, Silas! Look yonder! \u2014 up the road! \u2014 ain\u2019t that somebody coming?\u201d\n\nHe sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t no idea. Who is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Tom Sawyer!\u201d\n\nBy jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn\u2019t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.\n\nBut if they was joyful, it warn\u2019t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn\u2019t hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family \u2014 I mean the Sawyer family \u2014 than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because they didn\u2019t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I\u2019d a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d", "start_byte": 439356, "end_byte": 439382, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 691.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 693.8601176757812, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, Silas! Look yonder! \u2014 up the road! \u2014 ain\u2019t that somebody coming?\u201d\n\nHe sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t no idea. Who is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Tom Sawyer!\u201d\n\nBy jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn\u2019t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.\n\nBut if they was joyful, it warn\u2019t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn\u2019t hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family \u2014 I mean the Sawyer family \u2014 than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because they didn\u2019t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I\u2019d a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cI hain\u2019t no idea. Who is it?\u201d", "start_byte": 439384, "end_byte": 439414, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 693.775009765625, "cut_end_time": 697.460009765625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI hain\u2019t no idea. Who is it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Tom Sawyer!\u201d\n\nBy jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn\u2019t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.\n\nBut if they was joyful, it warn\u2019t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn\u2019t hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family \u2014 I mean the Sawyer family \u2014 than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because they didn\u2019t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I\u2019d a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s Tom Sawyer!\u201d", "start_byte": 439416, "end_byte": 439434, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 697.3349853515625, "cut_end_time": 699.4301103515626, "narration": {"text": "\u201cBut oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 636.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 643.350033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, who\u2019s that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho do you reckon \u2019t is?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t no idea. Who is it?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s Tom Sawyer!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBy jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn\u2019t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.\n\nBut if they was joyful, it warn\u2019t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn\u2019t hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family \u2014 I mean the Sawyer family \u2014 than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because they didn\u2019t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I\u2019d a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_32_twain_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 33}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb.json b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..c3e754b2e51719f24cd4d438eef7777e5bb1602d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cHold on!", "start_byte": 441329, "end_byte": 441338, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 37.03499908447266, "cut_end_time": 38.04006158447266, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by-and-by I hear a steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s\u2019pose Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s\u2019pose he steps in here any minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep quiet? Well, I couldn\u2019t have it that way; it wouldn\u2019t do at all. I must go up the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go up to the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for going along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I druther he wouldn\u2019t take no trouble about me.\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\nSo I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagon coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till he come along. I says <|quote_start|>\u201cHold on!\u201d<|quote_end|> and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that\u2019s got a dry throat, and then says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d", "start_byte": 441510, "end_byte": 441613, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 49.484998626708986, "cut_end_time": 56.12012362670899, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by-and-by I hear a steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s\u2019pose Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s\u2019pose he steps in here any minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep quiet? Well, I couldn\u2019t have it that way; it wouldn\u2019t do at all. I must go up the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go up to the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for going along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I druther he wouldn\u2019t take no trouble about me.\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\n\nSo I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagon coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till he come along. I says \u201cHold on!\u201d and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that\u2019s got a dry throat, and then says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d\n\n\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d", "start_byte": 441624, "end_byte": 441666, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 57.905000152587895, "cut_end_time": 60.38000015258789, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "So I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagon coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till he come along. I says \u201cHold on!\u201d and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that\u2019s got a dry throat, and then says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d\n\n\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d", "start_byte": 441760, "end_byte": 441855, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 67.41500091552734, "cut_end_time": 73.05000091552733, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201d and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that\u2019s got a dry throat, and then says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. I warn\u2019t ever murdered at all \u2014 I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d\n\nSo he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,", "start_byte": 441857, "end_byte": 441880, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 73.53499969482421, "cut_end_time": 74.70006219482421, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201d and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that\u2019s got a dry throat, and then says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d<|quote_end|> I says.\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. I warn\u2019t ever murdered at all \u2014 I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d\n\nSo he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d", "start_byte": 441891, "end_byte": 442044, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 75.76499938964844, "cut_end_time": 85.82006188964843, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI hain\u2019t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha\u2019nt me for?\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cI hain\u2019t come back \u2014 I hain\u2019t been gone.\u201d\n\nWhen he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d\n\n\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo. I warn\u2019t ever murdered at all \u2014 I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d\n\nSo he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cNo. I warn\u2019t ever murdered at all \u2014 I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d", "start_byte": 442046, "end_byte": 442161, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 86.46499969482421, "cut_end_time": 92.65006219482422, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn\u2019t on you. Honest injun now, you ain\u2019t a ghost?\u201d\n\n\u201cHonest injun, I ain\u2019t,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I \u2014 I \u2014 well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can\u2019t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn\u2019t you ever murdered at all?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo. I warn\u2019t ever murdered at all \u2014 I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s all right; I\u2019ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it\u2019s your\u2019n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I\u2019ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn\u2019t let on to know me at first.\u201d", "start_byte": 442688, "end_byte": 443020, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 125.21499633789062, "cut_end_time": 144.64005883789062, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s all right; I\u2019ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it\u2019s your\u2019n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I\u2019ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn\u2019t let on to know me at first.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cAll right; but wait a minute. There\u2019s one more thing \u2014 a thing that nobody don\u2019t know but me. And that is, there\u2019s a nigger here that I\u2019m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim \u2014 old Miss Watson\u2019s Jim.\u201d\n\nHe says:\n\n\u201cWhat! Why, Jim is \u2014 \u201d\n\nHe stopped and went to studying. I says:\n\n\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cAll right; but wait a minute. There\u2019s one more thing \u2014 a thing that nobody don\u2019t know but me. And that is, there\u2019s a nigger here that I\u2019m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim \u2014 old Miss Watson\u2019s Jim.\u201d", "start_byte": 443031, "end_byte": 443249, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 146.33500061035156, "cut_end_time": 160.58000061035156, "narration": {"text": "When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn\u2019t quite satisfied yet. He says:", "cut_start_time": 61.04499832153321, "cut_end_time": 66.6601233215332, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn\u2019t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don\u2019t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all right; I\u2019ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it\u2019s your\u2019n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I\u2019ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn\u2019t let on to know me at first.\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAll right; but wait a minute. There\u2019s one more thing \u2014 a thing that nobody don\u2019t know but me. And that is, there\u2019s a nigger here that I\u2019m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim \u2014 old Miss Watson\u2019s Jim.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe says:\n\n\u201cWhat! Why, Jim is \u2014 \u201d\n\nHe stopped and went to studying. I says:\n\n\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d", "start_byte": 443327, "end_byte": 443507, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 168.31500366210938, "cut_end_time": 179.77000366210936, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt\u2019s all right; I\u2019ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it\u2019s your\u2019n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I\u2019ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn\u2019t let on to know me at first.\u201d\n\nI says:\n\n\u201cAll right; but wait a minute. There\u2019s one more thing \u2014 a thing that nobody don\u2019t know but me. And that is, there\u2019s a nigger here that I\u2019m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim \u2014 old Miss Watson\u2019s Jim.\u201d\n\nHe says:\n\n\u201cWhat! Why, Jim is \u2014 \u201d\n\nHe stopped and went to studying. I says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!\n\n\u201cOh, shucks!\u201d I says; \u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d\n\n\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d", "start_byte": 443539, "end_byte": 443565, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 182.45499572753906, "cut_end_time": 184.58012072753905, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAll right; but wait a minute. There\u2019s one more thing \u2014 a thing that nobody don\u2019t know but me. And that is, there\u2019s a nigger here that I\u2019m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim \u2014 old Miss Watson\u2019s Jim.\u201d\n\nHe says:\n\n\u201cWhat! Why, Jim is \u2014 \u201d\n\nHe stopped and went to studying. I says:\n\n\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!\n\n\u201cOh, shucks!\u201d I says; \u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d\n\n\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d", "start_byte": 443813, "end_byte": 443829, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 203.1949932861328, "cut_end_time": 204.3701182861328, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!\n\n\u201cOh, shucks!\u201d I says; <|quote_start|>\u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d\n\nThen we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d", "start_byte": 443831, "end_byte": 443856, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 204.53500061035155, "cut_end_time": 205.93006311035157, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!\n\n\u201cOh, shucks!\u201d I says; \u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d\n\nThen we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d", "start_byte": 443880, "end_byte": 444052, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 208.1749932861328, "cut_end_time": 217.8901182861328, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI know what you\u2019ll say. You\u2019ll say it\u2019s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I\u2019m low down; and I\u2019m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?\u201d\n\nHis eye lit up, and he says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll help you steal him!\u201d\n\nWell, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard \u2014 and I\u2019m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn\u2019t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!\n\n\u201cOh, shucks!\u201d I says; \u201cyou\u2019re joking.\u201d\n\n\u201cI ain\u2019t joking, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, <|quote_start|>\u201cjoking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don\u2019t forget to remember that you don\u2019t know nothing about him, and I don\u2019t know nothing about him.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:\n\n\u201cWhy, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare to do it? I wish we\u2019d a timed her. And she hain\u2019t sweated a hair \u2014 not a hair. It\u2019s wonderful. Why, I wouldn\u2019t take a hundred dollars for that horse now \u2014 I wouldn\u2019t, honest; and yet I\u2019d a sold her for fifteen before, and thought \u2019twas all she was worth.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, there\u2019s somebody come! I wonder who \u2019tis? Why, I do believe it\u2019s a stranger. Jimmy", "start_byte": 445289, "end_byte": 445377, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.3449853515625, "cut_end_time": 304.5501103515625, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "That\u2019s all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. But it warn\u2019t surprising; because he warn\u2019t only just a farmer, he was a preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and done the same way, down South.\n\nIn about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, there\u2019s somebody come! I wonder who \u2019tis? Why, I do believe it\u2019s a stranger. Jimmy\u201d<|quote_end|> (that\u2019s one of the children) \u201crun and tell Lize to put on another plate for dinner.\u201d\n\nEverybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201crun and tell Lize to put on another plate for dinner.\u201d", "start_byte": 445408, "end_byte": 445463, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 306.16498657226566, "cut_end_time": 309.21004907226563, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "That\u2019s all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. But it warn\u2019t surprising; because he warn\u2019t only just a farmer, he was a preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and done the same way, down South.\n\nIn about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, there\u2019s somebody come! I wonder who \u2019tis? Why, I do believe it\u2019s a stranger. Jimmy\u201d (that\u2019s one of the children) <|quote_start|>\u201crun and tell Lize to put on another plate for dinner.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nEverybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d", "start_byte": 446252, "end_byte": 446287, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 360.24501220703127, "cut_end_time": 364.02007470703126, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d says the old gentleman, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cNo, my boy,", "start_byte": 446289, "end_byte": 446301, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 363.9550134277344, "cut_end_time": 365.3000759277344, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:\n\n\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d<|quote_end|> says the old gentleman, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d", "start_byte": 446327, "end_byte": 446449, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 366.67500244140626, "cut_end_time": 375.18000244140626, "narration": {"text": "In about half an hour Tom\u2019s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:", "cut_start_time": 287.6849938964844, "cut_end_time": 297.4600563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:\n\n\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d says the old gentleman, <|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d", "start_byte": 446504, "end_byte": 446535, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 379.89500610351564, "cut_end_time": 382.1100061035157, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:\n\n\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d says the old gentleman, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, <|quote_start|>\u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, do,\u201d says Aunt Sally; \u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d", "start_byte": 446537, "end_byte": 446668, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 382.8549938964844, "cut_end_time": 390.12011889648437, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don\u2019t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience \u2014 and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn\u2019t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn\u2019t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca\u2019m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn\u2019t want to disturb them, and says:\n\n\u201cMr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d says the old gentleman, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, do,\u201d says Aunt Sally; \u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d", "start_byte": 446670, "end_byte": 446772, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 390.7450146484375, "cut_end_time": 397.7200771484375, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, my boy,\u201d says the old gentleman, \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, do,\u201d says Aunt Sally; \u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d", "start_byte": 446774, "end_byte": 446864, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 398.4950134277344, "cut_end_time": 404.1200134277344, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry to say \u2019t your driver has deceived you; Nichols\u2019s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.\u201d\n\nTom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, \u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, do,\u201d says Aunt Sally; \u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d\n\nSo Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be persuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger from Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson \u2014 and he made another bow.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d", "start_byte": 446893, "end_byte": 447178, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 407.5250036621094, "cut_end_time": 424.0900661621094, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cToo late \u2014 he\u2019s out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he\u2019s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we\u2019ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I can\u2019t make you so much trouble; I couldn\u2019t think of it. I\u2019ll walk \u2014 I don\u2019t mind the distance.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we won\u2019t let you walk \u2014 it wouldn\u2019t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, do,\u201d says Aunt Sally; <|quote_start|>\u201cit ain\u2019t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It\u2019s a long, dusty three mile, and we can\u2019t let you walk. And, besides, I\u2019ve already told \u2019em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn\u2019t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be persuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger from Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson \u2014 and he made another bow.\n\nWell, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d", "start_byte": 447845, "end_byte": 447867, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 464.8849926757813, "cut_end_time": 466.6601176757813, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked kind of hurt, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d", "start_byte": 447904, "end_byte": 447933, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 469.37501220703126, "cut_end_time": 471.7800122070313, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:\n\n\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of hurt, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d", "start_byte": 447935, "end_byte": 448050, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 471.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 480.5301176757813, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:\n\n\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of hurt, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d", "start_byte": 448089, "end_byte": 448173, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 483.1850134277344, "cut_end_time": 489.5200134277344, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:\n\n\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of hurt, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, you born fool!", "start_byte": 448175, "end_byte": 448195, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 489.8249890136719, "cut_end_time": 491.6801140136719, "narration": {"text": " She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it.", "cut_start_time": 491.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 497.750009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:\n\n\u201cYou owdacious puppy!\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of hurt, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m surprised at you, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d<|quote_end|> She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d", "start_byte": 448313, "end_byte": 448347, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 498.584990234375, "cut_end_time": 500.72011523437504, "narration": {"text": "It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "cut_start_time": 517.3150048828126, "cut_end_time": 524.1300048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d", "start_byte": 448349, "end_byte": 448409, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 500.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 505.59001464843755, "narration": {"text": "It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "cut_start_time": 517.3150048828126, "cut_end_time": 524.1300048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d", "start_byte": 448411, "end_byte": 448513, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 506.355, "cut_end_time": 513.46, "narration": {"text": "It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "cut_start_time": 517.3150048828126, "cut_end_time": 524.1300048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou\u2019re s\u2019rp \u2014 Why, what do you reckon I am? I\u2019ve a good notion to take and \u2014 Say, what do you mean by kissing me?\u201d\n\nHe looked kind of humble, and says:\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d", "start_byte": 448515, "end_byte": 448556, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 514.1349877929688, "cut_end_time": 516.5101127929688, "narration": {"text": "It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "cut_start_time": 517.3150048828126, "cut_end_time": 524.1300048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI didn\u2019t mean nothing, m\u2019am. I didn\u2019t mean no harm. I \u2014 I \u2014 thought you\u2019d like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you born fool!\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d", "start_byte": 448686, "end_byte": 448758, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 524.6449804687501, "cut_end_time": 528.78004296875, "narration": {"text": "It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:", "cut_start_time": 517.3150048828126, "cut_end_time": 524.1300048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201d She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. \u201cWhat made you think I\u2019d like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. Only, they \u2014 they \u2014 told me you would.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d", "start_byte": 448825, "end_byte": 449055, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 533.0850170898437, "cut_end_time": 547.9600795898438, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThey told you I would. Whoever told you\u2019s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who\u2019s they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, everybody. They all said so, m\u2019am.\u201d\n\nIt was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2019m, I\u2019m honest about it; I won\u2019t ever do it again \u2014 till you ask me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says,", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d", "start_byte": 449057, "end_byte": 449111, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 548.655029296875, "cut_end_time": 552.030091796875, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018everybody\u2019? Out with their names, or ther\u2019ll be an idiot short.\u201d\n\nHe got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo\u2019m, I\u2019m honest about it; I won\u2019t ever do it again \u2014 till you ask me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cNo\u2019m, I\u2019m honest about it; I won\u2019t ever do it again \u2014 till you ask me.\u201d", "start_byte": 449113, "end_byte": 449185, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 552.63501953125, "cut_end_time": 557.17001953125, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo\u2019m, I\u2019m honest about it; I won\u2019t ever do it again \u2014 till you ask me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d", "start_byte": 449187, "end_byte": 449351, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 558.5049731445313, "cut_end_time": 570.0800356445312, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI\u2019m sorry, and I warn\u2019t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she\u2019d like it. They all said it \u2014 every one of them. But I\u2019m sorry, m\u2019am, and I won\u2019t do it no more \u2014 I won\u2019t, honest.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou won\u2019t, won\u2019t you? Well, I sh\u2019d reckon you won\u2019t!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2019m, I\u2019m honest about it; I won\u2019t ever do it again \u2014 till you ask me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says, \u201cDidn\u2019t you think she\u2019d like me to kiss her, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cDidn\u2019t you think she\u2019d like me to kiss her, sir?\u201d", "start_byte": 449625, "end_byte": 449675, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 588.525029296875, "cut_end_time": 591.040091796875, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says, <|quote_start|>\u201cDidn\u2019t you think she\u2019d like me to kiss her, sir?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d\n\nThen he looks on around the same way to me, and says:\n\n\u201cTom, didn\u2019t you think Aunt Sally \u2019d open out her arms and say, \u2018Sid Sawyer \u2014 \u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d", "start_byte": 449677, "end_byte": 449725, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 591.6250024414063, "cut_end_time": 596.0200649414063, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTill I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you\u2019ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you \u2014 or the likes of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says, \u201cDidn\u2019t you think she\u2019d like me to kiss her, sir?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen he looks on around the same way to me, and says:\n\n\u201cTom, didn\u2019t you think Aunt Sally \u2019d open out her arms and say, \u2018Sid Sawyer \u2014 \u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:\n\n\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d\n\nSo she didn\u2019t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cTom, didn\u2019t you think Aunt Sally \u2019d open out her arms and say, \u2018Sid Sawyer \u2014 \u2019\u201d", "start_byte": 449782, "end_byte": 449862, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 600.2049780273438, "cut_end_time": 605.2900405273438, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell,\u201d he says, \u201cit does surprise me so. I can\u2019t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But \u2014 \u201d He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman\u2019s, and says, \u201cDidn\u2019t you think she\u2019d like me to kiss her, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d\n\nThen he looks on around the same way to me, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTom, didn\u2019t you think Aunt Sally \u2019d open out her arms and say, \u2018Sid Sawyer \u2014 \u2019\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:\n\n\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d\n\nSo she didn\u2019t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d", "start_byte": 450028, "end_byte": 450065, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 616.5050244140625, "cut_end_time": 618.5400869140625, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, no; I \u2014 I \u2014 well, no, I b\u2019lieve I didn\u2019t.\u201d\n\nThen he looks on around the same way to me, and says:\n\n\u201cTom, didn\u2019t you think Aunt Sally \u2019d open out her arms and say, \u2018Sid Sawyer \u2014 \u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo she didn\u2019t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:\n\n\u201cWhy, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn\u2019t looking for you at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s because it warn\u2019t intended for any of us to come but Tom", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn\u2019t looking for you at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.\u201d", "start_byte": 450280, "end_byte": 450424, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.3449731445313, "cut_end_time": 642.2900981445313, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:\n\n\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d\n\nSo she didn\u2019t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn\u2019t looking for you at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s because it warn\u2019t intended for any of us to come but Tom,\u201d he says; \u201cbut I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too; so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-rate surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by-and-by tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was a mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain\u2019t no healthy place for a stranger to come.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s because it warn\u2019t intended for any of us to come but Tom,", "start_byte": 450426, "end_byte": 450489, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 643.6950170898438, "cut_end_time": 646.9800795898437, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy land!\u201d she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:\n\n\u201cNo, not till you\u2019ve asked me first.\u201d\n\nSo she didn\u2019t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:\n\n\u201cWhy, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn\u2019t looking for you at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s because it warn\u2019t intended for any of us to come but Tom,\u201d<|quote_end|> he says; \u201cbut I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too; so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-rate surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by-and-by tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was a mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain\u2019t no healthy place for a stranger to come.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo \u2014 not impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed; I hain\u2019t been so put out since I don\u2019t know when. But I don\u2019t care, I don\u2019t mind the terms \u2014 I\u2019d be willing to stand a thousand such jokes to have you here. Well, to think of that performance! I don\u2019t deny it, I was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\u201cPa, mayn\u2019t Tom and Sid and me go to the show?\u201d", "start_byte": 451973, "end_byte": 452020, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 738.105, "cut_end_time": 741.9400625000001, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and the kitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven families \u2014 and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that\u2019s laid in a cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old cold cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessing over it, but it was worth it; and it didn\u2019t cool it a bit, neither, the way I\u2019ve seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was a considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was on the lookout all the time; but it warn\u2019t no use, they didn\u2019t happen to say nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up to it. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cPa, mayn\u2019t Tom and Sid and me go to the show?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says the old man, \u201cI reckon there ain\u2019t going to be any; and you couldn\u2019t go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and me all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people; so I reckon they\u2019ve drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this time.\u201d\n\nSo there it was! \u2014 but I couldn\u2019t help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the same room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to bed right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the lightning-rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn\u2019t believe anybody was going to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn\u2019t hurry up and give them one they\u2019d get into trouble sure.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\u201cI reckon there ain\u2019t going to be any; and you couldn\u2019t go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and me all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people; so I reckon they\u2019ve drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this time.\u201d", "start_byte": 452046, "end_byte": 452317, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 743.9950146484375, "cut_end_time": 759.0100771484375, "narration": {"text": " she says, breaking in and jumping for him, \u201cyou impudent young rascal, to fool a body so \u2014 \u201d and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:", "cut_start_time": 606.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 616.0500844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and the kitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven families \u2014 and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that\u2019s laid in a cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old cold cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessing over it, but it was worth it; and it didn\u2019t cool it a bit, neither, the way I\u2019ve seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was a considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was on the lookout all the time; but it warn\u2019t no use, they didn\u2019t happen to say nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up to it. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says:\n\n\u201cPa, mayn\u2019t Tom and Sid and me go to the show?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d says the old man, <|quote_start|>\u201cI reckon there ain\u2019t going to be any; and you couldn\u2019t go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and me all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people; so I reckon they\u2019ve drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this time.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo there it was! \u2014 but I couldn\u2019t help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the same room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to bed right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the lightning-rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn\u2019t believe anybody was going to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn\u2019t hurry up and give them one they\u2019d get into trouble sure.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_33_twain_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 54}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..9761dca8dda46706f427cda5cace7f20cde347d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d", "start_byte": 454870, "end_byte": 455006, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 39.61500076293945, "cut_end_time": 47.92000076293945, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "So we poked along back home, and I warn\u2019t feeling so brash as I was before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow \u2014 though I hadn\u2019t done nothing. But that\u2019s always the way; it don\u2019t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person\u2019s conscience ain\u2019t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn\u2019t know no more than a person\u2019s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person\u2019s insides, and yet ain\u2019t no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nWe stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:\n\n\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 455008, "end_byte": 455014, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 48.224999847412114, "cut_end_time": 49.60012484741211, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "So we poked along back home, and I warn\u2019t feeling so brash as I was before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow \u2014 though I hadn\u2019t done nothing. But that\u2019s always the way; it don\u2019t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person\u2019s conscience ain\u2019t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn\u2019t know no more than a person\u2019s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person\u2019s insides, and yet ain\u2019t no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nWe stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:\n\n\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d", "start_byte": 455016, "end_byte": 455057, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 49.60500045776367, "cut_end_time": 52.31000045776367, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "So we poked along back home, and I warn\u2019t feeling so brash as I was before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow \u2014 though I hadn\u2019t done nothing. But that\u2019s always the way; it don\u2019t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person\u2019s conscience ain\u2019t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn\u2019t know no more than a person\u2019s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person\u2019s insides, and yet ain\u2019t no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nWe stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:\n\n\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cFor a dog.\u201d", "start_byte": 455059, "end_byte": 455071, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 52.264998779296874, "cut_end_time": 53.660123779296875, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "CHAPTER XXXIV.\n\nWe stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:\n\n\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFor a dog.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d", "start_byte": 455073, "end_byte": 455109, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 53.88500030517578, "cut_end_time": 57.12000030517578, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "We stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:\n\n\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cWhy?\u201d", "start_byte": 455111, "end_byte": 455117, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 57.154999847412114, "cut_end_time": 58.21006234741211, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d", "start_byte": 455119, "end_byte": 455155, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 58.144998931884764, "cut_end_time": 60.95012393188477, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d", "start_byte": 455157, "end_byte": 455323, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 61.535001831054686, "cut_end_time": 73.02000183105469, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cLooky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cAll right \u2014 bring it out.\u201d", "start_byte": 456268, "end_byte": 456295, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 137.94499450683594, "cut_end_time": 139.34011950683592, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d\n\nWhat a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer\u2019s head I wouldn\u2019t trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right plan was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says:\n\n\u201cReady?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d I says.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAll right \u2014 bring it out.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy plan is this,\u201d I says. \u201cWe can easy find out if it\u2019s Jim in there. Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the old man\u2019s britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim used to do before. Wouldn\u2019t that plan work?\u201d\n\n\u201cWork? Why, cert\u2019nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it\u2019s too blame\u2019 simple; there ain\u2019t nothing to it. What\u2019s the good of a plan that ain\u2019t no more trouble than that? It\u2019s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn\u2019t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cMy plan is this,", "start_byte": 456297, "end_byte": 456314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 140.06500122070312, "cut_end_time": 141.1400012207031, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d\n\nWhat a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer\u2019s head I wouldn\u2019t trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right plan was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says:\n\n\u201cReady?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d I says.\n\n\u201cAll right \u2014 bring it out.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy plan is this,\u201d<|quote_end|> I says. \u201cWe can easy find out if it\u2019s Jim in there. Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the old man\u2019s britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim used to do before. Wouldn\u2019t that plan work?\u201d\n\n\u201cWork? Why, cert\u2019nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it\u2019s too blame\u2019 simple; there ain\u2019t nothing to it. What\u2019s the good of a plan that ain\u2019t no more trouble than that? It\u2019s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn\u2019t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cWork? Why, cert\u2019nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it\u2019s too blame\u2019 simple; there ain\u2019t nothing to it. What\u2019s the good of a plan that ain\u2019t no more trouble than that? It\u2019s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn\u2019t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.\u201d", "start_byte": 456701, "end_byte": 456982, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 165.69499938964844, "cut_end_time": 184.10006188964843, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy plan is this,\u201d I says. \u201cWe can easy find out if it\u2019s Jim in there. Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the old man\u2019s britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim used to do before. Wouldn\u2019t that plan work?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWork? Why, cert\u2019nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it\u2019s too blame\u2019 simple; there ain\u2019t nothing to it. What\u2019s the good of a plan that ain\u2019t no more trouble than that? It\u2019s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn\u2019t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.\n\nAnd it didn\u2019t. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man as mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, and said we would waltz in on it. I needn\u2019t tell what it was here, because I knowed it wouldn\u2019t stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be changing it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t you reckon I know what I\u2019m about? Don\u2019t I generly know what I\u2019m about?\u201d", "start_byte": 458481, "end_byte": 458559, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 277.44498657226563, "cut_end_time": 281.78011157226564, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn\u2019t understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I did start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t you reckon I know what I\u2019m about? Don\u2019t I generly know what I\u2019m about?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDidn\u2019t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then.\u201d\n\nThat\u2019s all he said, and that\u2019s all I said. It warn\u2019t no use to say any more; because when he said he\u2019d do a thing, he always done it. But I couldn\u2019t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I couldn\u2019t help it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 458561, "end_byte": 458567, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 282.1450036621094, "cut_end_time": 283.3000661621094, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn\u2019t understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I did start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you reckon I know what I\u2019m about? Don\u2019t I generly know what I\u2019m about?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDidn\u2019t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then.\u201d\n\nThat\u2019s all he said, and that\u2019s all I said. It warn\u2019t no use to say any more; because when he said he\u2019d do a thing, he always done it. But I couldn\u2019t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I couldn\u2019t help it.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cDidn\u2019t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?\u201d", "start_byte": 458569, "end_byte": 458621, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.18501220703126, "cut_end_time": 285.9100122070313, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn\u2019t understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I did start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you reckon I know what I\u2019m about? Don\u2019t I generly know what I\u2019m about?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDidn\u2019t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then.\u201d\n\nThat\u2019s all he said, and that\u2019s all I said. It warn\u2019t no use to say any more; because when he said he\u2019d do a thing, he always done it. But I couldn\u2019t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I couldn\u2019t help it.\n\nWhen we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d", "start_byte": 459500, "end_byte": 459594, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 340.32499145507813, "cut_end_time": 344.9200539550782, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nTom says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d he says; \u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d", "start_byte": 459607, "end_byte": 459772, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 347.32499145507813, "cut_end_time": 357.27011645507815, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d\n\nTom says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d he says; \u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d\n\nBetwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d", "start_byte": 459796, "end_byte": 459874, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 360.04498779296875, "cut_end_time": 364.0301127929688, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d\n\nTom says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, <|quote_start|>\u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d he says; \u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d\n\nBetwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s more like,", "start_byte": 459876, "end_byte": 459894, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 364.90501464843754, "cut_end_time": 366.0000146484375, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d\n\nTom says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d<|quote_end|> he says. \u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d he says; \u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d\n\nBetwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,", "start_byte": 459905, "end_byte": 459954, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 367.0249877929688, "cut_end_time": 370.2401127929688, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d\n\nTom says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d he says. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d<|quote_end|> he says; \u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d\n\nBetwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d", "start_byte": 459965, "end_byte": 460067, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 371.75500732421875, "cut_end_time": 377.7200073242188, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d\n\nTom says:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I says, \u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,\u201d he says; <|quote_start|>\u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nBetwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cNow we\u2019re all right. We\u2019ll dig him out. It\u2019ll take about a week!\u201d", "start_byte": 460912, "end_byte": 460978, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 429.08500488281254, "cut_end_time": 433.3100673828125, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNow we\u2019re all right. We\u2019ll dig him out. It\u2019ll take about a week!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen we started for the house, and I went in the back door \u2014 you only have to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don\u2019t fasten the doors \u2014 but that warn\u2019t romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must climb up the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted his brains out, he thought he\u2019d got to give it up; but after he was rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time he made the trip.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d", "start_byte": 462385, "end_byte": 462434, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 516.504990234375, "cut_end_time": 519.480115234375, "narration": {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn\u2019t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he\u2019d been a-going to do. So Tom says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:\n\n\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nI hunched Tom, and whispers:\n\n\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d\n\nSo, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d", "start_byte": 462556, "end_byte": 462632, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 527.4650244140626, "cut_end_time": 533.1400244140625, "narration": {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn\u2019t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he\u2019d been a-going to do. So Tom says:\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d\n\nThe nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nI hunched Tom, and whispers:\n\n\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d\n\nSo, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:\n\n\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d", "start_byte": 462672, "end_byte": 462734, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 537.0350048828125, "cut_end_time": 540.7900048828125, "narration": {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn\u2019t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he\u2019d been a-going to do. So Tom says:\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d\n\nThe nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:\n\n\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nI hunched Tom, and whispers:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d\n\nSo, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:\n\n\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispers": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d", "start_byte": 462736, "end_byte": 462775, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 541.2549780273438, "cut_end_time": 543.9701030273437, "narration": {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn\u2019t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he\u2019d been a-going to do. So Tom says:\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d\n\nThe nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:\n\n\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nI hunched Tom, and whispers:\n\n\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:\n\n\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d", "start_byte": 462966, "end_byte": 463012, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 557.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 561.8600576171875, "narration": {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nI hunched Tom, and whispers:\n\n\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d\n\nSo, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"sings": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d", "start_byte": 463170, "end_byte": 463219, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 572.0849829101563, "cut_end_time": 575.1001079101562, "narration": {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "So, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:\n\n\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d", "start_byte": 463321, "end_byte": 463340, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 582.2149780273438, "cut_end_time": 583.5201030273438, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d", "start_byte": 463342, "end_byte": 463372, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 584.2550170898438, "cut_end_time": 586.4300795898438, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d", "start_byte": 463374, "end_byte": 463433, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 587.5550048828126, "cut_end_time": 590.6200673828125, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d\n\nI just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d", "start_byte": 463435, "end_byte": 463507, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 591.7150024414062, "cut_end_time": 596.0800024414062, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:\n\n\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?", "start_byte": 463549, "end_byte": 463636, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 599.845009765625, "cut_end_time": 606.510009765625, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d\n\nWe could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d<|quote_end|> And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "puzzled": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d", "start_byte": 463681, "end_byte": 463713, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 609.8549926757813, "cut_end_time": 611.8301176757813, "narration": {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:\n\n\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, <|quote_start|>\u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d", "start_byte": 463788, "end_byte": 463827, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 616.085, "cut_end_time": 619.1400625, "narration": {"text": "Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:", "cut_start_time": 619.2350122070312, "cut_end_time": 624.2300122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d\n\nTom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d", "start_byte": 463911, "end_byte": 463930, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 624.1849731445312, "cut_end_time": 625.5300356445313, "narration": {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Tom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:\n\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d", "start_byte": 463953, "end_byte": 463982, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 627.5749853515625, "cut_end_time": 628.9901103515625, "narration": {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; <|quote_start|>\u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d", "start_byte": 463999, "end_byte": 464031, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 630.7649755859376, "cut_end_time": 632.9500380859375, "narration": {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d", "start_byte": 464033, "end_byte": 464062, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 633.1149780273438, "cut_end_time": 635.1800405273437, "narration": {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201d And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says, \u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d", "start_byte": 464064, "end_byte": 464093, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 635.454990234375, "cut_end_time": 638.020115234375, "narration": {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d\n\nOf course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:\n\n\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d\n\nThen he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d", "start_byte": 464189, "end_byte": 464279, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 644.3750170898438, "cut_end_time": 649.4100795898438, "narration": {"text": "Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn\u2019t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:", "cut_start_time": 688.365, "cut_end_time": 696.5600625000001, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:\n\n\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah,\u201d says Jim; \u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d\n\nSo Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "severe": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\u201cI wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn\u2019t give him up, I\u2019d hang him.", "start_byte": 464983, "end_byte": 465142, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 697.0750195312501, "cut_end_time": 705.62001953125, "narration": {"text": "Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn\u2019t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:", "cut_start_time": 688.365, "cut_end_time": 696.5600625000001, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d\n\nTom give him a dime, and said we wouldn\u2019t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn\u2019t give him up, I\u2019d hang him.\u201d<|quote_end|> And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it\u2019s us; we\u2019re going to set you free.\u201d\n\nJim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger come back, and we said we\u2019d come again some time if the nigger wanted us to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks around then.", "narrative_information_pred": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "whispers": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it\u2019s us; we\u2019re going to set you free.\u201d", "start_byte": 465271, "end_byte": 465385, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 712.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 720.3400844726563, "narration": {"text": " And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says:", "cut_start_time": 705.7849926757813, "cut_end_time": 713.0401176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn\u2019t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:\n\n\u201cI wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn\u2019t give him up, I\u2019d hang him.\u201d And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says:\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it\u2019s us; we\u2019re going to set you free.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nJim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger come back, and we said we\u2019d come again some time if the nigger wanted us to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks around then.\n\nCHAPTER XXXV.\n\nIt would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down into the woods; because Tom said we got to have some light to see how to dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble; what we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that\u2019s called fox-fire, and just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a dark place. We fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down to rest, and Tom says, kind of dissatisfied:", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispers": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/2374.huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 52}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/2374/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6d1033fb1ed528270c961c53e2b5e0f20c24e268
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4549 @@
+ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN
+
+(Tom Sawyer’s Comrade)
+
+By Mark Twain
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+CHAPTER I. Civilizing Huck. — Miss Watson. — Tom Sawyer Waits.
+
+CHAPTER II. The Boys Escape Jim. — Torn Sawyer’s Gang. — Deep-laid Plans.
+
+CHAPTER III. A Good Going-over. — Grace Triumphant. — “One of Tom Sawyers’s Lies”.
+
+CHAPTER IV. Huck and the Judge. — Superstition.
+
+CHAPTER V. Huck’s Father. — The Fond Parent. — Reform.
+
+CHAPTER VI. He Went for Judge Thatcher. — Huck Decided to Leave. — Political Economy. — Thrashing Around.
+
+CHAPTER VII. Laying for Him. — Locked in the Cabin. — Sinking the Body. — Resting.
+
+CHAPTER VIII. Sleeping in the Woods. — Raising the Dead. — Exploring the Island. — Finding Jim. — Jim’s Escape. — Signs. — Balum.
+
+CHAPTER IX. The Cave. — The Floating House.
+
+CHAPTER X. The Find. — Old Hank Bunker. — In Disguise.
+
+CHAPTER XI. Huck and the Woman. — The Search. — Prevarication. — Going to Goshen.
+
+CHAPTER XII. Slow Navigation. — Borrowing Things. — Boarding the Wreck. — The Plotters. — Hunting for the Boat.
+
+CHAPTER XIII. Escaping from the Wreck. — The Watchman. — Sinking.
+
+CHAPTER XIV. A General Good Time. — The Harem. — French.
+
+CHAPTER XV. Huck Loses the Raft. — In the Fog. — Huck Finds the Raft. — Trash.
+
+CHAPTER XVI. Expectation. — A White Lie. — Floating Currency. — Running by Cairo. — Swimming Ashore.
+
+CHAPTER XVII. An Evening Call. — The Farm in Arkansaw. — Interior Decorations. — Stephen Dowling Bots. — Poetical Effusions.
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. Col. Grangerford. — Aristocracy. — Feuds. — The Testament. — Recovering the Raft. — The Wood — pile. — Pork and Cabbage.
+
+CHAPTER XIX. Tying Up Day — times. — An Astronomical Theory. — Running a Temperance Revival. — The Duke of Bridgewater. — The Troubles of Royalty.
+
+CHAPTER XX. Huck Explains. — Laying Out a Campaign. — Working the Camp — meeting. — A Pirate at the Camp — meeting. — The Duke as a Printer.
+
+CHAPTER XXI. Sword Exercise. — Hamlet’s Soliloquy. — They Loafed Around Town. — A Lazy Town. — Old Boggs. — Dead.
+
+CHAPTER XXII. Sherburn. — Attending the Circus. — Intoxication in the Ring. — The Thrilling Tragedy.
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. Sold. — Royal Comparisons. — Jim Gets Home-sick.
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. Jim in Royal Robes. — They Take a Passenger. — Getting Information. — Family Grief.
+
+CHAPTER XXV. Is It Them? — Singing the “Doxologer.” — Awful Square — Funeral Orgies. — A Bad Investment .
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A Pious King. — The King’s Clergy. — She Asked His Pardon. — Hiding in the Room. — Huck Takes the Money.
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. The Funeral. — Satisfying Curiosity. — Suspicious of Huck, — Quick Sales and Small.
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. The Trip to England. — “The Brute!” — Mary Jane Decides to Leave. — Huck Parting with Mary Jane. — Mumps. — The Opposition Line.
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. Contested Relationship. — The King Explains the Loss. — A Question of Handwriting. — Digging up the Corpse. — Huck Escapes.
+
+CHAPTER XXX. The King Went for Him. — A Royal Row. — Powerful Mellow.
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. Ominous Plans. — News from Jim. — Old Recollections. — A Sheep Story. — Valuable Information.
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. Still and Sunday — like. — Mistaken Identity. — Up a Stump. — In a Dilemma.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. A Nigger Stealer. — Southern Hospitality. — A Pretty Long Blessing. — Tar and Feathers.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. The Hut by the Ash Hopper. — Outrageous. — Climbing the Lightning Rod. — Troubled with Witches.
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. Escaping Properly. — Dark Schemes. — Discrimination in Stealing. — A Deep Hole.
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. The Lightning Rod. — His Level Best. — A Bequest to Posterity. — A High Figure.
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. The Last Shirt. — Mooning Around. — Sailing Orders. — The Witch Pie.
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Coat of Arms. — A Skilled Superintendent. — Unpleasant Glory. — A Tearful Subject.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX. Rats. — Lively Bed — fellows. — The Straw Dummy.
+
+CHAPTER XL. Fishing. — The Vigilance Committee. — A Lively Run. — Jim Advises a Doctor.
+
+CHAPTER XLI. The Doctor. — Uncle Silas. — Sister Hotchkiss. — Aunt Sally in Trouble.
+
+CHAPTER XLII. Tom Sawyer Wounded. — The Doctor’s Story. — Tom Confesses. — Aunt Polly Arrives. — Hand Out Them Letters.
+
+CHAPTER THE LAST. Out of Bondage. — Paying the Captive. — Yours Truly, Huck Finn.
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+The Widows Moses and the “Bulrushers” Miss Watson Huck Stealing Away They Tip-toed Along Jim Tom Sawyer’s Band of Robbers Huck Creeps into his Window Miss Watson’s Lecture The Robbers Dispersed Rubbing the Lamp ! ! ! ! Judge Thatcher surprised Jim Listening “Pap” Huck and his Father Reforming the Drunkard Falling from Grace Getting out of the Way Solid Comfort Thinking it Over Raising a Howl “Git Up” The Shanty Shooting the Pig Taking a Rest In the Woods Watching the Boat Discovering the Camp Fire Jim and the Ghost Misto Bradish’s Nigger Exploring the Cave In the Cave Jim sees a Dead Man They Found Eight Dollars Jim and the Snake Old Hank Bunker “A Fair Fit” “Come In” “Him and another Man” She puts up a Snack “Hump Yourself” On the Raft He sometimes Lifted a Chicken “Please don’t, Bill” “It ain’t Good Morals” “Oh! Lordy, Lordy!” In a Fix “Hello, What’s Up?” The Wreck We turned in and Slept Turning over the Truck Solomon and his Million Wives The story of “Sollermun” “We Would Sell the Raft” Among the Snags Asleep on the Raft “Something being Raftsman” “Boy, that’s a Lie” “Here I is, Huck” Climbing up the Bank “Who’s There?” “Buck” “It made Her look Spidery” “They got him out and emptied Him” The House Col. Grangerford Young Harney Shepherdson Miss Charlotte “And asked me if I Liked Her” “Behind the Wood-pile” Hiding Day-times “And Dogs a-Coming” “By rights I am a Duke!” “I am the Late Dauphin” Tail Piece On the Raft The King as Juliet “Courting on the Sly” “A Pirate for Thirty Years” Another little Job Practizing Hamlet’s Soliloquy “Gimme a Chaw” A Little Monthly Drunk The Death of Boggs Sherburn steps out A Dead Head He shed Seventeen Suits Tragedy Their Pockets Bulged Henry the Eighth in Boston Harbor Harmless Adolphus He fairly emptied that Young Fellow “Alas, our Poor Brother” “You Bet it is” Leaking Making up the “Deffisit” Going for him The Doctor The Bag of Money The Cubby Supper with the Hare-Lip Honest Injun The Duke looks under the Bed Huck takes the Money A Crack in the Dining-room Door The Undertaker “He had a Rat!” “Was you in my Room?” Jawing In Trouble Indignation How to Find Them He Wrote Hannah with the Mumps The Auction The True Brothers The Doctor leads Huck The Duke Wrote “Gentlemen, Gentlemen!” “Jim Lit Out” The King shakes Huck The Duke went for Him Spanish Moss “Who Nailed Him?” Thinking He gave him Ten Cents Striking for the Back Country Still and Sunday-like She hugged him tight “Who do you reckon it is?” “It was Tom Sawyer” “Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?” A pretty long Blessing Traveling By Rail Vittles A Simple Job Witches Getting Wood One of the Best Authorities The Breakfast-Horn Smouching the Knives Going down the Lightning-Rod Stealing spoons Tom advises a Witch Pie The Rubbage-Pile “Missus, dey’s a Sheet Gone” In a Tearing Way One of his Ancestors Jim’s Coat of Arms A Tough Job Buttons on their Tails Irrigation Keeping off Dull Times Sawdust Diet Trouble is Brewing Fishing Every one had a Gun Tom caught on a Splinter Jim advises a Doctor The Doctor Uncle Silas in Danger Old Mrs. Hotchkiss Aunt Sally talks to Huck Tom Sawyer wounded The Doctor speaks for Jim Tom rose square up in Bed “Hand out them Letters” Out of Bondage Tom’s Liberality Yours Truly
+
+NOTICE.
+
+Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
+
+BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR PER G. G., CHIEF OF ORDNANCE.
+
+EXPLANATORY
+
+In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro dialect; the extremest form of the backwoods Southwestern dialect; the ordinary “Pike County” dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech.
+
+I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding.
+
+THE AUTHOR.
+
+HUCKLEBERRY FINN
+
+Scene: The Mississippi Valley Time: Forty to fifty years ago
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly — Tom’s Aunt Polly, she is — and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.
+
+Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars apiece — all gold. It was an awful sight of money when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round — more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn’t stand it no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went back.
+
+The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn’t do nothing but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time. When you got to the table you couldn’t go right to eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the victuals, though there warn’t really anything the matter with them, — that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things go better.
+
+After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by-and-by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn’t care no more about him, because I don’t take no stock in dead people.
+
+Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn’t. She said it was a mean practice and wasn’t clean, and I must try to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don’t know nothing about it. Here she was a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.
+
+Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then the widow made her ease up. I couldn’t stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, “Don’t put your feet up there, Huckleberry;” and “Don’t scrunch up like that, Huckleberry — set up straight;” and pretty soon she would say, “Don’t gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry — why don’t you try to behave?” Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn’t mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn’t particular. She said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn’t say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I couldn’t see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn’t try for it. But I never said so, because it would only make trouble, and wouldn’t do no good.
+
+Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn’t think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together.
+
+Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. By-and-by they fetched the niggers in and had prayers, and then everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn’t no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that’s on its mind and can’t make itself understood, and so can’t rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it was all shriveled up. I didn’t need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn’t no confidence. You do that when you’ve lost a horseshoe that you’ve found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn’t ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you’d killed a spider.
+
+I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn’t know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go boom — boom — boom — twelve licks; and all still again — stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees — something was a stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I could just barely hear a “me-yow! me-yow!” down there. That was good! Says I, “me-yow! me-yow!” as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+We went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end of the widow’s garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn’t scrape our heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root and made a noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson’s big nigger, named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him pretty clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and stretched his neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says:
+
+“Who dah?”
+
+He listened some more; then he come tiptoeing down and stood right between us; we could a touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was minutes and minutes that there warn’t a sound, and we all there so close together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I dasn’t scratch it; and then my ear begun to itch; and next my back, right between my shoulders. Seemed like I’d die if I couldn’t scratch. Well, I’ve noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with the quality, or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain’t sleepy — if you are anywheres where it won’t do for you to scratch, why you will itch all over in upwards of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim says:
+
+“Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn’ hear sumf’n. Well, I know what I’s gwyne to do: I’s gwyne to set down here and listen tell I hears it agin.”
+
+So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back up against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most touched one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears come into my eyes. But I dasn’t scratch. Then it begun to itch on the inside. Next I got to itching underneath. I didn’t know how I was going to set still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes; but it seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different places now. I reckoned I couldn’t stand it more’n a minute longer, but I set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun to breathe heavy; next he begun to snore — and then I was pretty soon comfortable again.
+
+Tom he made a sign to me — kind of a little noise with his mouth — and we went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot off Tom whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But I said no; he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they’d find out I warn’t in. Then Tom said he hadn’t got candles enough, and he would slip in the kitchen and get some more. I didn’t want him to try. I said Jim might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it; so we slid in there and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table for pay. Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away; but nothing would do Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and knees, and play something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good while, everything was so still and lonesome.
+
+As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, and by-and-by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of the house. Tom said he slipped Jim’s hat off of his head and hung it on a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn’t wake. Afterwards Jim said the witches bewitched him and put him in a trance, and rode him all over the State, and then set him under the trees again, and hung his hat on a limb to show who done it. And next time Jim told it he said they rode him down to New Orleans; and, after that, every time he told it he spread it more and more, till by-and-by he said they rode him all over the world, and tired him most to death, and his back was all over saddle-boils. Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he got so he wouldn’t hardly notice the other niggers. Niggers would come miles to hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any nigger in that country. Strange niggers would stand with their mouths open and look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Niggers is always talking about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire; but whenever one was talking and letting on to know all about such things, Jim would happen in and say, “Hm! What you know ’bout witches?” and that nigger was corked up and had to take a back seat. Jim always kept that five-center piece round his neck with a string, and said it was a charm the devil give to him with his own hands, and told him he could cure anybody with it and fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by saying something to it; but he never told what it was he said to it. Niggers would come from all around there and give Jim anything they had, just for a sight of that five-center piece; but they wouldn’t touch it, because the devil had had his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for a servant, because he got stuck up on account of having seen the devil and been rode by witches.
+
+Well, when Tom and me got to the edge of the hilltop we looked away down into the village and could see three or four lights twinkling, where there was sick folks, maybe; and the stars over us was sparkling ever so fine; and down by the village was the river, a whole mile broad, and awful still and grand. We went down the hill and found Jo Harper and Ben Rogers, and two or three more of the boys, hid in the old tanyard. So we unhitched a skiff and pulled down the river two mile and a half, to the big scar on the hillside, and went ashore.
+
+We went to a clump of bushes, and Tom made everybody swear to keep the secret, and then showed them a hole in the hill, right in the thickest part of the bushes. Then we lit the candles, and crawled in on our hands and knees. We went about two hundred yards, and then the cave opened up. Tom poked about amongst the passages, and pretty soon ducked under a wall where you wouldn’t a noticed that there was a hole. We went along a narrow place and got into a kind of room, all damp and sweaty and cold, and there we stopped. Tom says:
+
+“Now, we’ll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer’s Gang. Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name in blood.”
+
+Everybody was willing. So Tom got out a sheet of paper that he had wrote the oath on, and read it. It swore every boy to stick to the band, and never tell any of the secrets; and if anybody done anything to any boy in the band, whichever boy was ordered to kill that person and his family must do it, and he mustn’t eat and he mustn’t sleep till he had killed them and hacked a cross in their breasts, which was the sign of the band. And nobody that didn’t belong to the band could use that mark, and if he did he must be sued; and if he done it again he must be killed. And if anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he must have his throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the ashes scattered all around, and his name blotted off of the list with blood and never mentioned again by the gang, but have a curse put on it and be forgot forever.
+
+Everybody said it was a real beautiful oath, and asked Tom if he got it out of his own head. He said, some of it, but the rest was out of pirate-books and robber-books, and every gang that was high-toned had it.
+
+Some thought it would be good to kill the families of boys that told the secrets. Tom said it was a good idea, so he took a pencil and wrote it in. Then Ben Rogers says:
+
+“Here’s Huck Finn, he hain’t got no family; what you going to do ’bout him?”
+
+“Well, hain’t he got a father?” says Tom Sawyer.
+
+“Yes, he’s got a father, but you can’t never find him these days. He used to lay drunk with the hogs in the tanyard, but he hain’t been seen in these parts for a year or more.”
+
+They talked it over, and they was going to rule me out, because they said every boy must have a family or somebody to kill, or else it wouldn’t be fair and square for the others. Well, nobody could think of anything to do — everybody was stumped, and set still. I was most ready to cry; but all at once I thought of a way, and so I offered them Miss Watson — they could kill her. Everybody said:
+
+“Oh, she’ll do. That’s all right. Huck can come in.”
+
+Then they all stuck a pin in their fingers to get blood to sign with, and I made my mark on the paper.
+
+“Now,” says Ben Rogers, “what’s the line of business of this Gang?”
+
+“Nothing only robbery and murder,” Tom said.
+
+“But who are we going to rob? — houses, or cattle, or — ”
+
+“Stuff! stealing cattle and such things ain’t robbery; it’s burglary,” says Tom Sawyer. “We ain’t burglars. That ain’t no sort of style. We are highwaymen. We stop stages and carriages on the road, with masks on, and kill the people and take their watches and money.”
+
+“Must we always kill the people?”
+
+“Oh, certainly. It’s best. Some authorities think different, but mostly it’s considered best to kill them — except some that you bring to the cave here, and keep them till they’re ransomed.”
+
+“Ransomed? What’s that?”
+
+“I don’t know. But that’s what they do. I’ve seen it in books; and so of course that’s what we’ve got to do.”
+
+“But how can we do it if we don’t know what it is?”
+
+“Why, blame it all, we’ve got to do it. Don’t I tell you it’s in the books? Do you want to go to doing different from what’s in the books, and get things all muddled up?”
+
+“Oh, that’s all very fine to say, Tom Sawyer, but how in the nation are these fellows going to be ransomed if we don’t know how to do it to them? — that’s the thing I want to get at. Now, what do you reckon it is?”
+
+“Well, I don’t know. But per’aps if we keep them till they’re ransomed, it means that we keep them till they’re dead.”
+
+“Now, that’s something like. That’ll answer. Why couldn’t you said that before? We’ll keep them till they’re ransomed to death; and a bothersome lot they’ll be, too — eating up everything, and always trying to get loose.”
+
+“How you talk, Ben Rogers. How can they get loose when there’s a guard over them, ready to shoot them down if they move a peg?”
+
+“A guard! Well, that is good. So somebody’s got to set up all night and never get any sleep, just so as to watch them. I think that’s foolishness. Why can’t a body take a club and ransom them as soon as they get here?”
+
+“Because it ain’t in the books so — that’s why. Now, Ben Rogers, do you want to do things regular, or don’t you? — that’s the idea. Don’t you reckon that the people that made the books knows what’s the correct thing to do? Do you reckon you can learn ’em anything? Not by a good deal. No, sir, we’ll just go on and ransom them in the regular way.”
+
+“All right. I don’t mind; but I say it’s a fool way, anyhow. Say, do we kill the women, too?”
+
+“Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn’t let on. Kill the women? No; nobody ever saw anything in the books like that. You fetch them to the cave, and you’re always as polite as pie to them; and by-and-by they fall in love with you, and never want to go home any more.”
+
+“Well, if that’s the way I’m agreed, but I don’t take no stock in it. Mighty soon we’ll have the cave so cluttered up with women, and fellows waiting to be ransomed, that there won’t be no place for the robbers. But go ahead, I ain’t got nothing to say.”
+
+Little Tommy Barnes was asleep now, and when they waked him up he was scared, and cried, and said he wanted to go home to his ma, and didn’t want to be a robber any more.
+
+So they all made fun of him, and called him cry-baby, and that made him mad, and he said he would go straight and tell all the secrets. But Tom give him five cents to keep quiet, and said we would all go home and meet next week, and rob somebody and kill some people.
+
+Ben Rogers said he couldn’t get out much, only Sundays, and so he wanted to begin next Sunday; but all the boys said it would be wicked to do it on Sunday, and that settled the thing. They agreed to get together and fix a day as soon as they could, and then we elected Tom Sawyer first captain and Jo Harper second captain of the Gang, and so started home.
+
+I clumb up the shed and crept into my window just before day was breaking. My new clothes was all greased up and clayey, and I was dog-tired.
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+Well, I got a good going-over in the morning from old Miss Watson on account of my clothes; but the widow she didn’t scold, but only cleaned off the grease and clay, and looked so sorry that I thought I would behave a while if I could. Then Miss Watson she took me in the closet and prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn’t so. I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn’t any good to me without hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn’t make it work. By-and-by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn’t make it out no way.
+
+I set down one time back in the woods, and had a long think about it. I says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for, why don’t Deacon Winn get back the money he lost on pork? Why can’t the widow get back her silver snuffbox that was stole? Why can’t Miss Watson fat up? No, says I to myself, there ain’t nothing in it. I went and told the widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by praying for it was “spiritual gifts.” This was too many for me, but she told me what she meant — I must help other people, and do everything I could for other people, and look out for them all the time, and never think about myself. This was including Miss Watson, as I took it. I went out in the woods and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn’t see no advantage about it — except for the other people; so at last I reckoned I wouldn’t worry about it any more, but just let it go. Sometimes the widow would take me one side and talk about Providence in a way to make a body’s mouth water; but maybe next day Miss Watson would take hold and knock it all down again. I judged I could see that there was two Providences, and a poor chap would stand considerable show with the widow’s Providence, but if Miss Watson’s got him there warn’t no help for him any more. I thought it all out, and reckoned I would belong to the widow’s if he wanted me, though I couldn’t make out how he was a-going to be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was so ignorant, and so kind of low-down and ornery.
+
+Pap he hadn’t been seen for more than a year, and that was comfortable for me; I didn’t want to see him no more. He used to always whale me when he was sober and could get his hands on me; though I used to take to the woods most of the time when he was around. Well, about this time he was found in the river drownded, about twelve mile above town, so people said. They judged it was him, anyway; said this drownded man was just his size, and was ragged, and had uncommon long hair, which was all like pap; but they couldn’t make nothing out of the face, because it had been in the water so long it warn’t much like a face at all. They said he was floating on his back in the water. They took him and buried him on the bank. But I warn’t comfortable long, because I happened to think of something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don’t float on his back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn’t pap, but a woman dressed up in a man’s clothes. So I was uncomfortable again. I judged the old man would turn up again by-and-by, though I wished he wouldn’t.
+
+We played robber now and then about a month, and then I resigned. All the boys did. We hadn’t robbed nobody, hadn’t killed any people, but only just pretended. We used to hop out of the woods and go charging down on hog-drivers and women in carts taking garden stuff to market, but we never hived any of them. Tom Sawyer called the hogs “ingots,” and he called the turnips and stuff “julery,” and we would go to the cave and powwow over what we had done, and how many people we had killed and marked. But I couldn’t see no profit in it. One time Tom sent a boy to run about town with a blazing stick, which he called a slogan (which was the sign for the Gang to get together), and then he said he had got secret news by his spies that next day a whole parcel of Spanish merchants and rich A-rabs was going to camp in Cave Hollow with two hundred elephants, and six hundred camels, and over a thousand “sumter” mules, all loaded down with di’monds, and they didn’t have only a guard of four hundred soldiers, and so we would lay in ambuscade, as he called it, and kill the lot and scoop the things. He said we must slick up our swords and guns, and get ready. He never could go after even a turnip-cart but he must have the swords and guns all scoured up for it, though they was only lath and broomsticks, and you might scour at them till you rotted, and then they warn’t worth a mouthful of ashes more than what they was before. I didn’t believe we could lick such a crowd of Spaniards and A-rabs, but I wanted to see the camels and elephants, so I was on hand next day, Saturday, in the ambuscade; and when we got the word we rushed out of the woods and down the hill. But there warn’t no Spaniards and A-rabs, and there warn’t no camels nor no elephants. It warn’t anything but a Sunday-school picnic, and only a primer-class at that. We busted it up, and chased the children up the hollow; but we never got anything but some doughnuts and jam, though Ben Rogers got a rag doll, and Jo Harper got a hymn-book and a tract; and then the teacher charged in, and made us drop everything and cut.
+
+I didn’t see no di’monds, and I told Tom Sawyer so. He said there was loads of them there, anyway; and he said there was A-rabs there, too, and elephants and things. I said, why couldn’t we see them, then? He said if I warn’t so ignorant, but had read a book called Don Quixote, I would know without asking. He said it was all done by enchantment. He said there was hundreds of soldiers there, and elephants and treasure, and so on, but we had enemies which he called magicians; and they had turned the whole thing into an infant Sunday-school, just out of spite. I said, all right; then the thing for us to do was to go for the magicians. Tom Sawyer said I was a numskull.
+
+“Why,” said he, “a magician could call up a lot of genies, and they would hash you up like nothing before you could say Jack Robinson. They are as tall as a tree and as big around as a church.”
+
+“Well,” I says, “s’pose we got some genies to help us — can’t we lick the other crowd then?”
+
+“How you going to get them?”
+
+“I don’t know. How do they get them?”
+
+“Why, they rub an old tin lamp or an iron ring, and then the genies come tearing in, with the thunder and lightning a-ripping around and the smoke a-rolling, and everything they’re told to do they up and do it. They don’t think nothing of pulling a shot-tower up by the roots, and belting a Sunday-school superintendent over the head with it — or any other man.”
+
+“Who makes them tear around so?”
+
+“Why, whoever rubs the lamp or the ring. They belong to whoever rubs the lamp or the ring, and they’ve got to do whatever he says. If he tells them to build a palace forty miles long out of di’monds, and fill it full of chewing-gum, or whatever you want, and fetch an emperor’s daughter from China for you to marry, they’ve got to do it — and they’ve got to do it before sun-up next morning, too. And more: they’ve got to waltz that palace around over the country wherever you want it, you understand.”
+
+“Well,” says I, “I think they are a pack of flat-heads for not keeping the palace themselves ’stead of fooling them away like that. And what’s more — if I was one of them I would see a man in Jericho before I would drop my business and come to him for the rubbing of an old tin lamp.”
+
+“How you talk, Huck Finn. Why, you’d have to come when he rubbed it, whether you wanted to or not.”
+
+“What! and I as high as a tree and as big as a church? All right, then; I would come; but I lay I’d make that man climb the highest tree there was in the country.”
+
+“Shucks, it ain’t no use to talk to you, Huck Finn. You don’t seem to know anything, somehow — perfect saphead.”
+
+I thought all this over for two or three days, and then I reckoned I would see if there was anything in it. I got an old tin lamp and an iron ring, and went out in the woods and rubbed and rubbed till I sweat like an Injun, calculating to build a palace and sell it; but it warn’t no use, none of the genies come. So then I judged that all that stuff was only just one of Tom Sawyer’s lies. I reckoned he believed in the A-rabs and the elephants, but as for me I think different. It had all the marks of a Sunday-school.
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+Well, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six times seven is thirty-five, and I don’t reckon I could ever get any further than that if I was to live forever. I don’t take no stock in mathematics, anyway.
+
+At first I hated the school, but by-and-by I got so I could stand it. Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow’s ways, too, and they warn’t so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in a bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn’t ashamed of me.
+
+One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast. I reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and crossed me off. She says, “Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what a mess you are always making!” The widow put in a good word for me, but that warn’t going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. I started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. There is ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn’t one of them kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along low-spirited and on the watch-out.
+
+I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the ground, and I seen somebody’s tracks. They had come up from the quarry and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden fence. It was funny they hadn’t come in, after standing around so. I couldn’t make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn’t notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil.
+
+I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my shoulder every now and then, but I didn’t see nobody. I was at Judge Thatcher’s as quick as I could get there. He said:
+
+“Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your interest?”
+
+“No, sir,” I says; “is there some for me?”
+
+“Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in, last night — over a hundred and fifty dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it along with your six thousand, because if you take it you’ll spend it.”
+
+“No, sir,” I says, “I don’t want to spend it. I don’t want it at all — nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give it to you — the six thousand and all.”
+
+He looked surprised. He couldn’t seem to make it out. He says:
+
+“Why, what can you mean, my boy?”
+
+I says, “Don’t you ask me no questions about it, please. You’ll take it — won’t you?”
+
+He says:
+
+“Well, I’m puzzled. Is something the matter?”
+
+“Please take it,” says I, “and don’t ask me nothing — then I won’t have to tell no lies.”
+
+He studied a while, and then he says:
+
+“Oho-o! I think I see. You want to sell all your property to me — not give it. That’s the correct idea.”
+
+Then he wrote something on a paper and read it over, and says:
+
+“There; you see it says ‘for a consideration.’ That means I have bought it of you and paid you for it. Here’s a dollar for you. Now you sign it.”
+
+So I signed it, and left.
+
+Miss Watson’s nigger, Jim, had a hair-ball as big as your fist, which had been took out of the fourth stomach of an ox, and he used to do magic with it. He said there was a spirit inside of it, and it knowed everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here again, for I found his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was, what he was going to do, and was he going to stay? Jim got out his hair-ball and said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped it on the floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about an inch. Jim tried it again, and then another time, and it acted just the same. Jim got down on his knees, and put his ear against it and listened. But it warn’t no use; he said it wouldn’t talk. He said sometimes it wouldn’t talk without money. I told him I had an old slick counterfeit quarter that warn’t no good because the brass showed through the silver a little, and it wouldn’t pass nohow, even if the brass didn’t show, because it was so slick it felt greasy, and so that would tell on it every time. (I reckoned I wouldn’t say nothing about the dollar I got from the judge.) I said it was pretty bad money, but maybe the hair-ball would take it, because maybe it wouldn’t know the difference. Jim smelt it and bit it and rubbed it, and said he would manage so the hair-ball would think it was good. He said he would split open a raw Irish potato and stick the quarter in between and keep it there all night, and next morning you couldn’t see no brass, and it wouldn’t feel greasy no more, and so anybody in town would take it in a minute, let alone a hair-ball. Well, I knowed a potato would do that before, but I had forgot it.
+
+Jim put the quarter under the hair-ball, and got down and listened again. This time he said the hair-ball was all right. He said it would tell my whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the hair-ball talked to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says:
+
+“Yo’ ole father doan’ know yit what he’s a-gwyne to do. Sometimes he spec he’ll go ’way, en den agin he spec he’ll stay. De bes’ way is to res’ easy en let de ole man take his own way. Dey’s two angels hoverin’ roun’ ’bout him. One uv ’em is white en shiny, en t’other one is black. De white one gits him to go right a little while, den de black one sail in en bust it all up. A body can’t tell yit which one gwyne to fetch him at de las’. But you is all right. You gwyne to have considable trouble in yo’ life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git hurt, en sometimes you gwyne to git sick; but every time you’s gwyne to git well agin. Dey’s two gals flyin’ ’bout you in yo’ life. One uv ’em’s light en t’other one is dark. One is rich en t’other is po’. You’s gwyne to marry de po’ one fust en de rich one by en by. You wants to keep ’way fum de water as much as you kin, en don’t run no resk, ’kase it’s down in de bills dat you’s gwyne to git hung.”
+
+When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat pap his own self!
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+I had shut the door to. Then I turned around and there he was. I used to be scared of him all the time, he tanned me so much. I reckoned I was scared now, too; but in a minute I see I was mistaken — that is, after the first jolt, as you may say, when my breath sort of hitched, he being so unexpected; but right away after I see I warn’t scared of him worth bothring about.
+
+He was most fifty, and he looked it. His hair was long and tangled and greasy, and hung down, and you could see his eyes shining through like he was behind vines. It was all black, no gray; so was his long, mixed-up whiskers. There warn’t no color in his face, where his face showed; it was white; not like another man’s white, but a white to make a body sick, a white to make a body’s flesh crawl — a tree-toad white, a fish-belly white. As for his clothes — just rags, that was all. He had one ankle resting on t’other knee; the boot on that foot was busted, and two of his toes stuck through, and he worked them now and then. His hat was laying on the floor — an old black slouch with the top caved in, like a lid.
+
+I stood a-looking at him; he set there a-looking at me, with his chair tilted back a little. I set the candle down. I noticed the window was up; so he had clumb in by the shed. He kept a-looking me all over. By-and-by he says:
+
+“Starchy clothes — very. You think you’re a good deal of a big-bug, don’t you?”
+
+“Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t,” I says.
+
+“Don’t you give me none o’ your lip,” says he. “You’ve put on considerable many frills since I been away. I’ll take you down a peg before I get done with you. You’re educated, too, they say — can read and write. You think you’re better’n your father, now, don’t you, because he can’t? I’ll take it out of you. Who told you you might meddle with such hifalut’n foolishness, hey? — who told you you could?”
+
+“The widow. She told me.”
+
+“The widow, hey? — and who told the widow she could put in her shovel about a thing that ain’t none of her business?”
+
+“Nobody never told her.”
+
+“Well, I’ll learn her how to meddle. And looky here — you drop that school, you hear? I’ll learn people to bring up a boy to put on airs over his own father and let on to be better’n what he is. You lemme catch you fooling around that school again, you hear? Your mother couldn’t read, and she couldn’t write, nuther, before she died. None of the family couldn’t before they died. I can’t; and here you’re a-swelling yourself up like this. I ain’t the man to stand it — you hear? Say, lemme hear you read.”
+
+I took up a book and begun something about General Washington and the wars. When I’d read about a half a minute, he fetched the book a whack with his hand and knocked it across the house. He says:
+
+“It’s so. You can do it. I had my doubts when you told me. Now looky here; you stop that putting on frills. I won’t have it. I’ll lay for you, my smarty; and if I catch you about that school I’ll tan you good. First you know you’ll get religion, too. I never see such a son.”
+
+He took up a little blue and yaller picture of some cows and a boy, and says:
+
+“What’s this?”
+
+“It’s something they give me for learning my lessons good.”
+
+He tore it up, and says:
+
+“I’ll give you something better — I’ll give you a cowhide.”
+
+He set there a-mumbling and a-growling a minute, and then he says:
+
+“Ain’t you a sweet-scented dandy, though? A bed; and bedclothes; and a look’n’-glass; and a piece of carpet on the floor — and your own father got to sleep with the hogs in the tanyard. I never see such a son. I bet I’ll take some o’ these frills out o’ you before I’m done with you. Why, there ain’t no end to your airs — they say you’re rich. Hey? — how’s that?”
+
+“They lie — that’s how.”
+
+“Looky here — mind how you talk to me; I’m a-standing about all I can stand now — so don’t gimme no sass. I’ve been in town two days, and I hain’t heard nothing but about you bein’ rich. I heard about it away down the river, too. That’s why I come. You git me that money to-morrow — I want it.”
+
+“I hain’t got no money.”
+
+“It’s a lie. Judge Thatcher’s got it. You git it. I want it.”
+
+“I hain’t got no money, I tell you. You ask Judge Thatcher; he’ll tell you the same.”
+
+“All right. I’ll ask him; and I’ll make him pungle, too, or I’ll know the reason why. Say, how much you got in your pocket? I want it.”
+
+“I hain’t got only a dollar, and I want that to — ”
+
+“It don’t make no difference what you want it for — you just shell it out.”
+
+He took it and bit it to see if it was good, and then he said he was going down town to get some whisky; said he hadn’t had a drink all day. When he had got out on the shed he put his head in again, and cussed me for putting on frills and trying to be better than him; and when I reckoned he was gone he come back and put his head in again, and told me to mind about that school, because he was going to lay for me and lick me if I didn’t drop that.
+
+Next day he was drunk, and he went to Judge Thatcher’s and bullyragged him, and tried to make him give up the money; but he couldn’t, and then he swore he’d make the law force him.
+
+The judge and the widow went to law to get the court to take me away from him and let one of them be my guardian; but it was a new judge that had just come, and he didn’t know the old man; so he said courts mustn’t interfere and separate families if they could help it; said he’d druther not take a child away from its father. So Judge Thatcher and the widow had to quit on the business.
+
+That pleased the old man till he couldn’t rest. He said he’d cowhide me till I was black and blue if I didn’t raise some money for him. I borrowed three dollars from Judge Thatcher, and pap took it and got drunk, and went a-blowing around and cussing and whooping and carrying on; and he kept it up all over town, with a tin pan, till most midnight; then they jailed him, and next day they had him before court, and jailed him again for a week. But he said he was satisfied; said he was boss of his son, and he’d make it warm for him.
+
+When he got out the new judge said he was a-going to make a man of him. So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said he’d been a fool, and fooled away his life; but now he was a-going to turn over a new leaf and be a man nobody wouldn’t be ashamed of, and he hoped the judge would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could hug him for them words; so he cried, and his wife she cried again; pap said he’d been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the judge said he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted that was down was sympathy, and the judge said it was so; so they cried again. And when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his hand, and says:
+
+“Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all; take a-hold of it; shake it. There’s a hand that was the hand of a hog; but it ain’t so no more; it’s the hand of a man that’s started in on a new life, and’ll die before he’ll go back. You mark them words — don’t forget I said them. It’s a clean hand now; shake it — don’t be afeard.”
+
+So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The judge’s wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledge — made his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and clumb out on to the porch-roof and slid down a stanchion and traded his new coat for a jug of forty-rod, and clumb back again and had a good old time; and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most froze to death when somebody found him after sun-up. And when they come to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could navigate it.
+
+The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didn’t know no other way.
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+Well, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him or outrun him most of the time. I didn’t want to go to school much before, but I reckoned I’d go now to spite pap. That law trial was a slow business — appeared like they warn’t ever going to get started on it; so every now and then I’d borrow two or three dollars off of the judge for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every time he got money he got drunk; and every time he got drunk he raised Cain around town; and every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suited — this kind of thing was right in his line.
+
+He got to hanging around the widow’s too much and so she told him at last that if he didn’t quit using around there she would make trouble for him. Well, wasn’t he mad? He said he would show who was Huck Finn’s boss. So he watched out for me one day in the spring, and catched me, and took me up the river about three mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn’t no houses but an old log hut in a place where the timber was so thick you couldn’t find it if you didn’t know where it was.
+
+He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, and we fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little while he locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the ferry, and traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got drunk and had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where I was by-and-by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me; but pap drove him off with the gun, and it warn’t long after that till I was used to being where I was, and liked it — all but the cowhide part.
+
+It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking and fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn’t see how I’d ever got to like it so well at the widow’s, where you had to wash, and eat on a plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be forever bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all the time. I didn’t want to go back no more. I had stopped cussing, because the widow didn’t like it; but now I took to it again because pap hadn’t no objections. It was pretty good times up in the woods there, take it all around.
+
+But by-and-by pap got too handy with his hick’ry, and I couldn’t stand it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too, and locking me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days. It was dreadful lonesome. I judged he had got drownded, and I wasn’t ever going to get out any more. I was scared. I made up my mind I would fix up some way to leave there. I had tried to get out of that cabin many a time, but I couldn’t find no way. There warn’t a window to it big enough for a dog to get through. I couldn’t get up the chimbly; it was too narrow. The door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty careful not to leave a knife or anything in the cabin when he was away; I reckon I had hunted the place over as much as a hundred times; well, I was most all the time at it, because it was about the only way to put in the time. But this time I found something at last; I found an old rusty wood-saw without any handle; it was laid in between a rafter and the clapboards of the roof. I greased it up and went to work. There was an old horse-blanket nailed against the logs at the far end of the cabin behind the table, to keep the wind from blowing through the chinks and putting the candle out. I got under the table and raised the blanket, and went to work to saw a section of the big bottom log out — big enough to let me through. Well, it was a good long job, but I was getting towards the end of it when I heard pap’s gun in the woods. I got rid of the signs of my work, and dropped the blanket and hid my saw, and pretty soon pap come in.
+
+Pap warn’t in a good humor — so he was his natural self. He said he was down town, and everything was going wrong. His lawyer said he reckoned he would win his lawsuit and get the money if they ever got started on the trial; but then there was ways to put it off a long time, and Judge Thatcher knowed how to do it. And he said people allowed there’d be another trial to get me away from him and give me to the widow for my guardian, and they guessed it would win this time. This shook me up considerable, because I didn’t want to go back to the widow’s any more and be so cramped up and sivilized, as they called it. Then the old man got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn’t skipped any, and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, including a considerable parcel of people which he didn’t know the names of, and so called them what’s-his-name when he got to them, and went right along with his cussing.
+
+He said he would like to see the widow get me. He said he would watch out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a place six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they dropped and they couldn’t find me. That made me pretty uneasy again, but only for a minute; I reckoned I wouldn’t stay on hand till he got that chance.
+
+The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got. There was a fifty-pound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, ammunition, and a four-gallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two newspapers for wadding, besides some tow. I toted up a load, and went back and set down on the bow of the skiff to rest. I thought it all over, and I reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and take to the woods when I run away. I guessed I wouldn’t stay in one place, but just tramp right across the country, mostly night times, and hunt and fish to keep alive, and so get so far away that the old man nor the widow couldn’t ever find me any more. I judged I would saw out and leave that night if pap got drunk enough, and I reckoned he would. I got so full of it I didn’t notice how long I was staying till the old man hollered and asked me whether I was asleep or drownded.
+
+I got the things all up to the cabin, and then it was about dark. While I was cooking supper the old man took a swig or two and got sort of warmed up, and went to ripping again. He had been drunk over in town, and laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body would a thought he was Adam — he was just all mud. Whenever his liquor begun to work he most always went for the govment, this time he says:
+
+“Call this a govment! why, just look at it and see what it’s like. Here’s the law a-standing ready to take a man’s son away from him — a man’s own son, which he has had all the trouble and all the anxiety and all the expense of raising. Yes, just as that man has got that son raised at last, and ready to go to work and begin to do suthin’ for him and give him a rest, the law up and goes for him. And they call that govment! That ain’t all, nuther. The law backs that old Judge Thatcher up and helps him to keep me out o’ my property. Here’s what the law does: The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and up’ards, and jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets him go round in clothes that ain’t fitten for a hog. They call that govment! A man can’t get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I’ve a mighty notion to just leave the country for good and all. Yes, and I told ’em so; I told old Thatcher so to his face. Lots of ’em heard me, and can tell what I said. Says I, for two cents I’d leave the blamed country and never come a-near it agin. Them’s the very words. I says look at my hat — if you call it a hat — but the lid raises up and the rest of it goes down till it’s below my chin, and then it ain’t rightly a hat at all, but more like my head was shoved up through a jint o’ stove-pipe. Look at it, says I — such a hat for me to wear — one of the wealthiest men in this town if I could git my rights.
+
+“Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky here. There was a free nigger there from Ohio — a mulatter, most as white as a white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the shiniest hat; and there ain’t a man in that town that’s got as fine clothes as what he had; and he had a gold watch and chain, and a silver-headed cane — the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the State. And what do you think? They said he was a p’fessor in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain’t the wust. They said he could vote when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was ’lection day, and I was just about to go and vote myself if I warn’t too drunk to get there; but when they told me there was a State in this country where they’d let that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I’ll never vote agin. Them’s the very words I said; they all heard me; and the country may rot for all me — I’ll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see the cool way of that nigger — why, he wouldn’t a give me the road if I hadn’t shoved him out o’ the way. I says to the people, why ain’t this nigger put up at auction and sold? — that’s what I want to know. And what do you reckon they said? Why, they said he couldn’t be sold till he’d been in the State six months, and he hadn’t been there that long yet. There, now — that’s a specimen. They call that a govment that can’t sell a free nigger till he’s been in the State six months. Here’s a govment that calls itself a govment, and lets on to be a govment, and thinks it is a govment, and yet’s got to set stock-still for six whole months before it can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal, white-shirted free nigger, and — ”
+
+Pap was agoing on so he never noticed where his old limber legs was taking him to, so he went head over heels over the tub of salt pork and barked both shins, and the rest of his speech was all the hottest kind of language — mostly hove at the nigger and the govment, though he give the tub some, too, all along, here and there. He hopped around the cabin considerable, first on one leg and then on the other, holding first one shin and then the other one, and at last he let out with his left foot all of a sudden and fetched the tub a rattling kick. But it warn’t good judgment, because that was the boot that had a couple of his toes leaking out of the front end of it; so now he raised a howl that fairly made a body’s hair raise, and down he went in the dirt, and rolled there, and held his toes; and the cussing he done then laid over anything he had ever done previous. He said so his own self afterwards. He had heard old Sowberry Hagan in his best days, and he said it laid over him, too; but I reckon that was sort of piling it on, maybe.
+
+After supper pap took the jug, and said he had enough whisky there for two drunks and one delirium tremens. That was always his word. I judged he would be blind drunk in about an hour, and then I would steal the key, or saw myself out, one or t’other. He drank and drank, and tumbled down on his blankets by-and-by; but luck didn’t run my way. He didn’t go sound asleep, but was uneasy. He groaned and moaned and thrashed around this way and that for a long time. At last I got so sleepy I couldn’t keep my eyes open all I could do, and so before I knowed what I was about I was sound asleep, and the candle burning.
+
+I don’t know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping around every which way and yelling about snakes. He said they was crawling up his legs; and then he would give a jump and scream, and say one had bit him on the cheek — but I couldn’t see no snakes. He started and run round and round the cabin, hollering “Take him off! take him off! he’s biting me on the neck!” I never see a man look so wild in the eyes. Pretty soon he was all fagged out, and fell down panting; then he rolled over and over wonderful fast, kicking things every which way, and striking and grabbing at the air with his hands, and screaming and saying there was devils a-hold of him. He wore out by-and-by, and laid still a while, moaning. Then he laid stiller, and didn’t make a sound. I could hear the owls and the wolves away off in the woods, and it seemed terrible still. He was laying over by the corner. By-and-by he raised up part way and listened, with his head to one side. He says, very low:
+
+“Tramp — tramp — tramp; that’s the dead; tramp — tramp — tramp; they’re coming after me; but I won’t go. Oh, they’re here! don’t touch me — don’t! hands off — they’re cold; let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone!”
+
+Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the old pine table, still a-begging; and then he went to crying. I could hear him through the blanket.
+
+By-and-by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he see me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a clasp-knife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me, and then I couldn’t come for him no more. I begged, and told him I was only Huck; but he laughed such a screechy laugh, and roared and cussed, and kept on chasing me up. Once when I turned short and dodged under his arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket between my shoulders, and I thought I was gone; but I slid out of the jacket quick as lightning, and saved myself. Pretty soon he was all tired out, and dropped down with his back against the door, and said he would rest a minute and then kill me. He put his knife under him, and said he would sleep and get strong, and then he would see who was who.
+
+So he dozed off pretty soon. By-and-by I got the old split-bottom chair and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down the gun. I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded, then I laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set down behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the time did drag along.
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+“Git up! What you ’bout?”
+
+I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was. It was after sun-up, and I had been sound asleep. Pap was standing over me looking sour and sick, too. He says:
+
+“What you doin’ with this gun?”
+
+I judged he didn’t know nothing about what he had been doing, so I says:
+
+“Somebody tried to get in, so I was laying for him.”
+
+“Why didn’t you roust me out?”
+
+“Well, I tried to, but I couldn’t; I couldn’t budge you.”
+
+“Well, all right. Don’t stand there palavering all day, but out with you and see if there’s a fish on the lines for breakfast. I’ll be along in a minute.”
+
+He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the river-bank. I noticed some pieces of limbs and such things floating down, and a sprinkling of bark; so I knowed the river had begun to rise. I reckoned I would have great times now if I was over at the town. The June rise used to be always luck for me; because as soon as that rise begins here comes cordwood floating down, and pieces of log rafts — sometimes a dozen logs together; so all you have to do is to catch them and sell them to the wood-yards and the sawmill.
+
+I went along up the bank with one eye out for pap and t’other one out for what the rise might fetch along. Well, all at once here comes a canoe; just a beauty, too, about thirteen or fourteen foot long, riding high like a duck. I shot head-first off of the bank like a frog, clothes and all on, and struck out for the canoe. I just expected there’d be somebody laying down in it, because people often done that to fool folks, and when a chap had pulled a skiff out most to it they’d raise up and laugh at him. But it warn’t so this time. It was a drift-canoe sure enough, and I clumb in and paddled her ashore. Thinks I, the old man will be glad when he sees this — she’s worth ten dollars. But when I got to shore pap wasn’t in sight yet, and as I was running her into a little creek like a gully, all hung over with vines and willows, I struck another idea: I judged I’d hide her good, and then, ’stead of taking to the woods when I run off, I’d go down the river about fifty mile and camp in one place for good, and not have such a rough time tramping on foot.
+
+It was pretty close to the shanty, and I thought I heard the old man coming all the time; but I got her hid; and then I out and looked around a bunch of willows, and there was the old man down the path a piece just drawing a bead on a bird with his gun. So he hadn’t seen anything.
+
+When he got along I was hard at it taking up a “trot” line. He abused me a little for being so slow; but I told him I fell in the river, and that was what made me so long. I knowed he would see I was wet, and then he would be asking questions. We got five catfish off the lines and went home.
+
+While we laid off after breakfast to sleep up, both of us being about wore out, I got to thinking that if I could fix up some way to keep pap and the widow from trying to follow me, it would be a certainer thing than trusting to luck to get far enough off before they missed me; you see, all kinds of things might happen. Well, I didn’t see no way for a while, but by-and-by pap raised up a minute to drink another barrel of water, and he says:
+
+“Another time a man comes a-prowling round here you roust me out, you hear? That man warn’t here for no good. I’d a shot him. Next time you roust me out, you hear?”
+
+Then he dropped down and went to sleep again; but what he had been saying give me the very idea I wanted. I says to myself, I can fix it now so nobody won’t think of following me.
+
+About twelve o’clock we turned out and went along up the bank. The river was coming up pretty fast, and lots of driftwood going by on the rise. By-and-by along comes part of a log raft — nine logs fast together. We went out with the skiff and towed it ashore. Then we had dinner. Anybody but pap would a waited and seen the day through, so as to catch more stuff; but that warn’t pap’s style. Nine logs was enough for one time; he must shove right over to town and sell. So he locked me in and took the skiff, and started off towing the raft about half-past three. I judged he wouldn’t come back that night. I waited till I reckoned he had got a good start; then I out with my saw, and went to work on that log again. Before he was t’other side of the river I was out of the hole; him and his raft was just a speck on the water away off yonder.
+
+I took the sack of corn meal and took it to where the canoe was hid, and shoved the vines and branches apart and put it in; then I done the same with the side of bacon; then the whisky-jug. I took all the coffee and sugar there was, and all the ammunition; I took the wadding; I took the bucket and gourd; I took a dipper and a tin cup, and my old saw and two blankets, and the skillet and the coffee-pot. I took fish-lines and matches and other things — everything that was worth a cent. I cleaned out the place. I wanted an axe, but there wasn’t any, only the one out at the woodpile, and I knowed why I was going to leave that. I fetched out the gun, and now I was done.
+
+I had wore the ground a good deal crawling out of the hole and dragging out so many things. So I fixed that as good as I could from the outside by scattering dust on the place, which covered up the smoothness and the sawdust. Then I fixed the piece of log back into its place, and put two rocks under it and one against it to hold it there, for it was bent up at that place and didn’t quite touch ground. If you stood four or five foot away and didn’t know it was sawed, you wouldn’t never notice it; and besides, this was the back of the cabin, and it warn’t likely anybody would go fooling around there.
+
+It was all grass clear to the canoe, so I hadn’t left a track. I followed around to see. I stood on the bank and looked out over the river. All safe. So I took the gun and went up a piece into the woods, and was hunting around for some birds when I see a wild pig; hogs soon went wild in them bottoms after they had got away from the prairie farms. I shot this fellow and took him into camp.
+
+I took the axe and smashed in the door. I beat it and hacked it considerable a-doing it. I fetched the pig in, and took him back nearly to the table and hacked into his throat with the axe, and laid him down on the ground to bleed; I say ground because it was ground — hard packed, and no boards. Well, next I took an old sack and put a lot of big rocks in it — all I could drag — and I started it from the pig, and dragged it to the door and through the woods down to the river and dumped it in, and down it sunk, out of sight. You could easy see that something had been dragged over the ground. I did wish Tom Sawyer was there; I knowed he would take an interest in this kind of business, and throw in the fancy touches. Nobody could spread himself like Tom Sawyer in such a thing as that.
+
+Well, last I pulled out some of my hair, and blooded the axe good, and stuck it on the back side, and slung the axe in the corner. Then I took up the pig and held him to my breast with my jacket (so he couldn’t drip) till I got a good piece below the house and then dumped him into the river. Now I thought of something else. So I went and got the bag of meal and my old saw out of the canoe, and fetched them to the house. I took the bag to where it used to stand, and ripped a hole in the bottom of it with the saw, for there warn’t no knives and forks on the place — pap done everything with his clasp-knife about the cooking. Then I carried the sack about a hundred yards across the grass and through the willows east of the house, to a shallow lake that was five mile wide and full of rushes — and ducks too, you might say, in the season. There was a slough or a creek leading out of it on the other side that went miles away, I don’t know where, but it didn’t go to the river. The meal sifted out and made a little track all the way to the lake. I dropped pap’s whetstone there too, so as to look like it had been done by accident. Then I tied up the rip in the meal sack with a string, so it wouldn’t leak no more, and took it and my saw to the canoe again.
+
+It was about dark now; so I dropped the canoe down the river under some willows that hung over the bank, and waited for the moon to rise. I made fast to a willow; then I took a bite to eat, and by-and-by laid down in the canoe to smoke a pipe and lay out a plan. I says to myself, they’ll follow the track of that sackful of rocks to the shore and then drag the river for me. And they’ll follow that meal track to the lake and go browsing down the creek that leads out of it to find the robbers that killed me and took the things. They won’t ever hunt the river for anything but my dead carcass. They’ll soon get tired of that, and won’t bother no more about me. All right; I can stop anywhere I want to. Jackson’s Island is good enough for me; I know that island pretty well, and nobody ever comes there. And then I can paddle over to town nights, and slink around and pick up things I want. Jackson’s Island’s the place.
+
+I was pretty tired, and the first thing I knowed I was asleep. When I woke up I didn’t know where I was for a minute. I set up and looked around, a little scared. Then I remembered. The river looked miles and miles across. The moon was so bright I could a counted the drift logs that went a-slipping along, black and still, hundreds of yards out from shore. Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and smelt late. You know what I mean — I don’t know the words to put it in.
+
+I took a good gap and a stretch, and was just going to unhitch and start when I heard a sound away over the water. I listened. Pretty soon I made it out. It was that dull kind of a regular sound that comes from oars working in rowlocks when it’s a still night. I peeped out through the willow branches, and there it was — a skiff, away across the water. I couldn’t tell how many was in it. It kept a-coming, and when it was abreast of me I see there warn’t but one man in it. Think’s I, maybe it’s pap, though I warn’t expecting him. He dropped below me with the current, and by-and-by he came a-swinging up shore in the easy water, and he went by so close I could a reached out the gun and touched him. Well, it was pap, sure enough — and sober, too, by the way he laid his oars.
+
+I didn’t lose no time. The next minute I was a-spinning down stream soft but quick in the shade of the bank. I made two mile and a half, and then struck out a quarter of a mile or more towards the middle of the river, because pretty soon I would be passing the ferry landing, and people might see me and hail me. I got out amongst the driftwood, and then laid down in the bottom of the canoe and let her float.
+
+I laid there, and had a good rest and a smoke out of my pipe, looking away into the sky; not a cloud in it. The sky looks ever so deep when you lay down on your back in the moonshine; I never knowed it before. And how far a body can hear on the water such nights! I heard people talking at the ferry landing. I heard what they said, too — every word of it. One man said it was getting towards the long days and the short nights now. T’other one said this warn’t one of the short ones, he reckoned — and then they laughed, and he said it over again, and they laughed again; then they waked up another fellow and told him, and laughed, but he didn’t laugh; he ripped out something brisk, and said let him alone. The first fellow said he ’lowed to tell it to his old woman — she would think it was pretty good; but he said that warn’t nothing to some things he had said in his time. I heard one man say it was nearly three o’clock, and he hoped daylight wouldn’t wait more than about a week longer. After that the talk got further and further away, and I couldn’t make out the words any more; but I could hear the mumble, and now and then a laugh, too, but it seemed a long ways off.
+
+I was away below the ferry now. I rose up, and there was Jackson’s Island, about two mile and a half down stream, heavy timbered and standing up out of the middle of the river, big and dark and solid, like a steamboat without any lights. There warn’t any signs of the bar at the head — it was all under water now.
+
+It didn’t take me long to get there. I shot past the head at a ripping rate, the current was so swift, and then I got into the dead water and landed on the side towards the Illinois shore. I run the canoe into a deep dent in the bank that I knowed about; I had to part the willow branches to get in; and when I made fast nobody could a seen the canoe from the outside.
+
+I went up and set down on a log at the head of the island, and looked out on the big river and the black driftwood and away over to the town, three mile away, where there was three or four lights twinkling. A monstrous big lumber-raft was about a mile up stream, coming along down, with a lantern in the middle of it. I watched it come creeping down, and when it was most abreast of where I stood I heard a man say, “Stern oars, there! heave her head to stabboard!” I heard that just as plain as if the man was by my side.
+
+There was a little gray in the sky now; so I stepped into the woods, and laid down for a nap before breakfast.
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+The sun was up so high when I waked that I judged it was after eight o’clock. I laid there in the grass and the cool shade thinking about things, and feeling rested and ruther comfortable and satisfied. I could see the sun out at one or two holes, but mostly it was big trees all about, and gloomy in there amongst them. There was freckled places on the ground where the light sifted down through the leaves, and the freckled places swapped about a little, showing there was a little breeze up there. A couple of squirrels set on a limb and jabbered at me very friendly.
+
+I was powerful lazy and comfortable — didn’t want to get up and cook breakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deep sound of “boom!” away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbow and listens; pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went and looked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke laying on the water a long ways up — about abreast the ferry. And there was the ferry-boat full of people floating along down. I knowed what was the matter now. “Boom!” I see the white smoke squirt out of the ferry-boat’s side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water, trying to make my carcass come to the top.
+
+I was pretty hungry, but it warn’t going to do for me to start a fire, because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched the cannon-smoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile wide there, and it always looks pretty on a summer morning — so I was having a good enough time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had a bite to eat. Well, then I happened to think how they always put quicksilver in loaves of bread and float them off, because they always go right to the drownded carcass and stop there. So, says I, I’ll keep a lookout, and if any of them’s floating around after me I’ll give them a show. I changed to the Illinois edge of the island to see what luck I could have, and I warn’t disappointed. A big double loaf come along, and I most got it with a long stick, but my foot slipped and she floated out further. Of course I was where the current set in the closest to the shore — I knowed enough for that. But by-and-by along comes another one, and this time I won. I took out the plug and shook out the little dab of quicksilver, and set my teeth in. It was “baker’s bread” — what the quality eat; none of your low-down corn-pone.
+
+I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log, munching the bread and watching the ferry-boat, and very well satisfied. And then something struck me. I says, now I reckon the widow or the parson or somebody prayed that this bread would find me, and here it has gone and done it. So there ain’t no doubt but there is something in that thing — that is, there’s something in it when a body like the widow or the parson prays, but it don’t work for me, and I reckon it don’t work for only just the right kind.
+
+I lit a pipe and had a good long smoke, and went on watching. The ferry-boat was floating with the current, and I allowed I’d have a chance to see who was aboard when she come along, because she would come in close, where the bread did. When she’d got pretty well along down towards me, I put out my pipe and went to where I fished out the bread, and laid down behind a log on the bank in a little open place. Where the log forked I could peep through.
+
+By-and-by she come along, and she drifted in so close that they could a run out a plank and walked ashore. Most everybody was on the boat. Pap, and Judge Thatcher, and Bessie Thatcher, and Jo Harper, and Tom Sawyer, and his old Aunt Polly, and Sid and Mary, and plenty more. Everybody was talking about the murder, but the captain broke in and says:
+
+“Look sharp, now; the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he’s washed ashore and got tangled amongst the brush at the water’s edge. I hope so, anyway.”
+
+I didn’t hope so. They all crowded up and leaned over the rails, nearly in my face, and kept still, watching with all their might. I could see them first-rate, but they couldn’t see me. Then the captain sung out:
+
+“Stand away!” and the cannon let off such a blast right before me that it made me deef with the noise and pretty near blind with the smoke, and I judged I was gone. If they’d a had some bullets in, I reckon they’d a got the corpse they was after. Well, I see I warn’t hurt, thanks to goodness. The boat floated on and went out of sight around the shoulder of the island. I could hear the booming now and then, further and further off, and by-and-by, after an hour, I didn’t hear it no more. The island was three mile long. I judged they had got to the foot, and was giving it up. But they didn’t yet a while. They turned around the foot of the island and started up the channel on the Missouri side, under steam, and booming once in a while as they went. I crossed over to that side and watched them. When they got abreast the head of the island they quit shooting and dropped over to the Missouri shore and went home to the town.
+
+I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come a-hunting after me. I got my traps out of the canoe and made me a nice camp in the thick woods. I made a kind of a tent out of my blankets to put my things under so the rain couldn’t get at them. I catched a catfish and haggled him open with my saw, and towards sundown I started my camp fire and had supper. Then I set out a line to catch some fish for breakfast.
+
+When it was dark I set by my camp fire smoking, and feeling pretty well satisfied; but by-and-by it got sort of lonesome, and so I went and set on the bank and listened to the current swashing along, and counted the stars and drift logs and rafts that come down, and then went to bed; there ain’t no better way to put in time when you are lonesome; you can’t stay so, you soon get over it.
+
+And so for three days and nights. No difference — just the same thing. But the next day I went exploring around down through the island. I was boss of it; it all belonged to me, so to say, and I wanted to know all about it; but mainly I wanted to put in the time. I found plenty strawberries, ripe and prime; and green summer grapes, and green razberries; and the green blackberries was just beginning to show. They would all come handy by-and-by, I judged.
+
+Well, I went fooling along in the deep woods till I judged I warn’t far from the foot of the island. I had my gun along, but I hadn’t shot nothing; it was for protection; thought I would kill some game nigh home. About this time I mighty near stepped on a good-sized snake, and it went sliding off through the grass and flowers, and I after it, trying to get a shot at it. I clipped along, and all of a sudden I bounded right on to the ashes of a camp fire that was still smoking.
+
+My heart jumped up amongst my lungs. I never waited for to look further, but uncocked my gun and went sneaking back on my tiptoes as fast as ever I could. Every now and then I stopped a second amongst the thick leaves and listened, but my breath come so hard I couldn’t hear nothing else. I slunk along another piece further, then listened again; and so on, and so on. If I see a stump, I took it for a man; if I trod on a stick and broke it, it made me feel like a person had cut one of my breaths in two and I only got half, and the short half, too.
+
+When I got to camp I warn’t feeling very brash, there warn’t much sand in my craw; but I says, this ain’t no time to be fooling around. So I got all my traps into my canoe again so as to have them out of sight, and I put out the fire and scattered the ashes around to look like an old last year’s camp, and then clumb a tree.
+
+I reckon I was up in the tree two hours; but I didn’t see nothing, I didn’t hear nothing — I only thought I heard and seen as much as a thousand things. Well, I couldn’t stay up there forever; so at last I got down, but I kept in the thick woods and on the lookout all the time. All I could get to eat was berries and what was left over from breakfast.
+
+By the time it was night I was pretty hungry. So when it was good and dark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to the Illinois bank — about a quarter of a mile. I went out in the woods and cooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay there all night when I hear a plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk, and says to myself, horses coming; and next I hear people’s voices. I got everything into the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creeping through the woods to see what I could find out. I hadn’t got far when I hear a man say:
+
+“We better camp here if we can find a good place; the horses is about beat out. Let’s look around.”
+
+I didn’t wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy. I tied up in the old place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe.
+
+I didn’t sleep much. I couldn’t, somehow, for thinking. And every time I waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck. So the sleep didn’t do me no good. By-and-by I says to myself, I can’t live this way; I’m a-going to find out who it is that’s here on the island with me; I’ll find it out or bust. Well, I felt better right off.
+
+So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, and then let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows. The moon was shining, and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day. I poked along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and sound asleep. Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island. A little ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good as saying the night was about done. I give her a turn with the paddle and brung her nose to shore; then I got my gun and slipped out and into the edge of the woods. I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the leaves. I see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket the river. But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, and knowed the day was coming. So I took my gun and slipped off towards where I had run across that camp fire, stopping every minute or two to listen. But I hadn’t no luck somehow; I couldn’t seem to find the place. But by-and-by, sure enough, I catched a glimpse of fire away through the trees. I went for it, cautious and slow. By-and-by I was close enough to have a look, and there laid a man on the ground. It most give me the fan-tods. He had a blanket around his head, and his head was nearly in the fire. I set there behind a clump of bushes, in about six foot of him, and kept my eyes on him steady. It was getting gray daylight now. Pretty soon he gapped and stretched himself and hove off the blanket, and it was Miss Watson’s Jim! I bet I was glad to see him. I says:
+
+“Hello, Jim!” and skipped out.
+
+He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, and puts his hands together and says:
+
+“Doan’ hurt me — don’t! I hain’t ever done no harm to a ghos’. I alwuz liked dead people, en done all I could for ’em. You go en git in de river agin, whah you b’longs, en doan’ do nuffn to Ole Jim, ’at ’uz awluz yo’ fren’.”
+
+Well, I warn’t long making him understand I warn’t dead. I was ever so glad to see Jim. I warn’t lonesome now. I told him I warn’t afraid of him telling the people where I was. I talked along, but he only set there and looked at me; never said nothing. Then I says:
+
+“It’s good daylight. Le’s get breakfast. Make up your camp fire good.”
+
+“What’s de use er makin’ up de camp fire to cook strawbries en sich truck? But you got a gun, hain’t you? Den we kin git sumfn better den strawbries.”
+
+“Strawberries and such truck,” I says. “Is that what you live on?”
+
+“I couldn’ git nuffn else,” he says.
+
+“Why, how long you been on the island, Jim?”
+
+“I come heah de night arter you’s killed.”
+
+“What, all that time?”
+
+“Yes — indeedy.”
+
+“And ain’t you had nothing but that kind of rubbage to eat?”
+
+“No, sah — nuffn else.”
+
+“Well, you must be most starved, ain’t you?”
+
+“I reck’n I could eat a hoss. I think I could. How long you ben on de islan’?”
+
+“Since the night I got killed.”
+
+“No! W’y, what has you lived on? But you got a gun. Oh, yes, you got a gun. Dat’s good. Now you kill sumfn en I’ll make up de fire.”
+
+So we went over to where the canoe was, and while he built a fire in a grassy open place amongst the trees, I fetched meal and bacon and coffee, and coffee-pot and frying-pan, and sugar and tin cups, and the nigger was set back considerable, because he reckoned it was all done with witchcraft. I catched a good big catfish, too, and Jim cleaned him with his knife, and fried him.
+
+When breakfast was ready we lolled on the grass and eat it smoking hot. Jim laid it in with all his might, for he was most about starved. Then when we had got pretty well stuffed, we laid off and lazied. By-and-by Jim says:
+
+“But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat ’uz killed in dat shanty ef it warn’t you?”
+
+Then I told him the whole thing, and he said it was smart. He said Tom Sawyer couldn’t get up no better plan than what I had. Then I says:
+
+“How do you come to be here, Jim, and how’d you get here?”
+
+He looked pretty uneasy, and didn’t say nothing for a minute. Then he says:
+
+“Maybe I better not tell.”
+
+“Why, Jim?”
+
+“Well, dey’s reasons. But you wouldn’ tell on me ef I uz to tell you, would you, Huck?”
+
+“Blamed if I would, Jim.”
+
+“Well, I b’lieve you, Huck. I — I run off.”
+
+“Jim!”
+
+“But mind, you said you wouldn’ tell — you know you said you wouldn’ tell, Huck.”
+
+“Well, I did. I said I wouldn’t, and I’ll stick to it. Honest injun, I will. People would call me a low-down Abolitionist and despise me for keeping mum — but that don’t make no difference. I ain’t a-going to tell, and I ain’t a-going back there, anyways. So, now, le’s know all about it.”
+
+“Well, you see, it ’uz dis way. Ole missus — dat’s Miss Watson — she pecks on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she wouldn’ sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a nigger trader roun’ de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy. Well, one night I creeps to de do’ pooty late, en de do’ warn’t quite shet, en I hear old missus tell de widder she gwyne to sell me down to Orleans, but she didn’ want to, but she could git eight hund’d dollars for me, en it ’uz sich a big stack o’ money she couldn’ resis’. De widder she try to git her to say she wouldn’ do it, but I never waited to hear de res’. I lit out mighty quick, I tell you.
+
+“I tuck out en shin down de hill, en ’spec to steal a skift ’long de sho’ som’ers ’bove de town, but dey wuz people a-stirring yit, so I hid in de ole tumble-down cooper-shop on de bank to wait for everybody to go ’way. Well, I wuz dah all night. Dey wuz somebody roun’ all de time. ’Long ’bout six in de mawnin’ skifts begin to go by, en ’bout eight er nine every skift dat went ’long wuz talkin’ ’bout how yo’ pap come over to de town en say you’s killed. Dese las’ skifts wuz full o’ ladies en genlmen a-goin’ over for to see de place. Sometimes dey’d pull up at de sho’ en take a res’ b’fo’ dey started acrost, so by de talk I got to know all ’bout de killin’. I ’uz powerful sorry you’s killed, Huck, but I ain’t no mo’ now.
+
+“I laid dah under de shavin’s all day. I ’uz hungry, but I warn’t afeard; bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin’ to start to de camp-meet’n’ right arter breakfas’ en be gone all day, en dey knows I goes off wid de cattle ’bout daylight, so dey wouldn’ ’spec to see me roun’ de place, en so dey wouldn’ miss me tell arter dark in de evenin’. De yuther servants wouldn’ miss me, kase dey’d shin out en take holiday soon as de ole folks ’uz out’n de way.
+
+“Well, when it come dark I tuck out up de river road, en went ’bout two mile er more to whah dey warn’t no houses. I’d made up my mine ’bout what I’s agwyne to do. You see, ef I kep’ on tryin’ to git away afoot, de dogs ’ud track me; ef I stole a skift to cross over, dey’d miss dat skift, you see, en dey’d know ’bout whah I’d lan’ on de yuther side, en whah to pick up my track. So I says, a raff is what I’s arter; it doan’ make no track.
+
+“I see a light a-comin’ roun’ de p’int bymeby, so I wade’ in en shove’ a log ahead o’ me en swum more’n half way acrost de river, en got in ’mongst de drift-wood, en kep’ my head down low, en kinder swum agin de current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it en tuck a-holt. It clouded up en ’uz pooty dark for a little while. So I clumb up en laid down on de planks. De men ’uz all ’way yonder in de middle, whah de lantern wuz. De river wuz a-risin’, en dey wuz a good current; so I reck’n’d ’at by fo’ in de mawnin’ I’d be twenty-five mile down de river, en den I’d slip in jis b’fo’ daylight en swim asho’, en take to de woods on de Illinois side.
+
+“But I didn’ have no luck. When we ’uz mos’ down to de head er de islan’ a man begin to come aft wid de lantern, I see it warn’t no use fer to wait, so I slid overboard en struck out fer de islan’. Well, I had a notion I could lan’ mos’ anywhers, but I couldn’t — bank too bluff. I ’uz mos’ to de foot er de islan’ b’fo’ I found’ a good place. I went into de woods en jedged I wouldn’ fool wid raffs no mo’, long as dey move de lantern roun’ so. I had my pipe en a plug er dog-leg, en some matches in my cap, en dey warn’t wet, so I ’uz all right.”
+
+“And so you ain’t had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Why didn’t you get mud-turkles?”
+
+“How you gwyne to git ’m? You can’t slip up on um en grab um; en how’s a body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in de night? En I warn’t gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime.”
+
+“Well, that’s so. You’ve had to keep in the woods all the time, of course. Did you hear ’em shooting the cannon?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heah — watched um thoo de bushes.”
+
+Some young birds come along, flying a yard or two at a time and lighting. Jim said it was a sign it was going to rain. He said it was a sign when young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it was the same way when young birds done it. I was going to catch some of them, but Jim wouldn’t let me. He said it was death. He said his father laid mighty sick once, and some of them catched a bird, and his old granny said his father would die, and he did.
+
+And Jim said you mustn’t count the things you are going to cook for dinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook the table-cloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive and that man died, the bees must be told about it before sun-up next morning, or else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die. Jim said bees wouldn’t sting idiots; but I didn’t believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn’t sting me.
+
+I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them. Jim knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. I said it looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so I asked him if there warn’t any good-luck signs. He says:
+
+“Mighty few — an’ dey ain’t no use to a body. What you want to know when good luck’s a-comin’ for? Want to keep it off?” And he said: “Ef you’s got hairy arms en a hairy breas’, it’s a sign dat you’s agwyne to be rich. Well, dey’s some use in a sign like dat, ’kase it’s so fur ahead. You see, maybe you’s got to be po’ a long time fust, en so you might git discourage’ en kill yo’sef ’f you didn’ know by de sign dat you gwyne to be rich bymeby.”
+
+“Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?”
+
+“What’s de use to ax dat question? Don’t you see I has?”
+
+“Well, are you rich?”
+
+“No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had foteen dollars, but I tuck to specalat’n’, en got busted out.”
+
+“What did you speculate in, Jim?”
+
+“Well, fust I tackled stock.”
+
+“What kind of stock?”
+
+“Why, live stock — cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But I ain’ gwyne to resk no mo’ money in stock. De cow up ’n’ died on my han’s.”
+
+“So you lost the ten dollars.”
+
+“No, I didn’t lose it all. I on’y los’ ’bout nine of it. I sole de hide en taller for a dollar en ten cents.”
+
+“You had five dollars and ten cents left. Did you speculate any more?”
+
+“Yes. You know that one-laigged nigger dat b’longs to old Misto Bradish? Well, he sot up a bank, en say anybody dat put in a dollar would git fo’ dollars mo’ at de en’ er de year. Well, all de niggers went in, but dey didn’t have much. I wuz de on’y one dat had much. So I stuck out for mo’ dan fo’ dollars, en I said ’f I didn’ git it I’d start a bank mysef. Well, o’ course dat nigger want’ to keep me out er de business, bekase he says dey warn’t business ’nough for two banks, so he say I could put in my five dollars en he pay me thirty-five at de en’ er de year.
+
+“So I done it. Den I reck’n’d I’d inves’ de thirty-five dollars right off en keep things a-movin’. Dey wuz a nigger name’ Bob, dat had ketched a wood-flat, en his marster didn’ know it; en I bought it off’n him en told him to take de thirty-five dollars when de en’ er de year come; but somebody stole de wood-flat dat night, en nex day de one-laigged nigger say de bank’s busted. So dey didn’ none uv us git no money.”
+
+“What did you do with the ten cents, Jim?”
+
+“Well, I ’uz gwyne to spen’ it, but I had a dream, en de dream tole me to give it to a nigger name’ Balum — Balum’s Ass dey call him for short; he’s one er dem chuckleheads, you know. But he’s lucky, dey say, en I see I warn’t lucky. De dream say let Balum inves’ de ten cents en he’d make a raise for me. Well, Balum he tuck de money, en when he wuz in church he hear de preacher say dat whoever give to de po’ len’ to de Lord, en boun’ to git his money back a hund’d times. So Balum he tuck en give de ten cents to de po’, en laid low to see what wuz gwyne to come of it.”
+
+“Well, what did come of it, Jim?”
+
+“Nuffn never come of it. I couldn’ manage to k’leck dat money no way; en Balum he couldn’. I ain’ gwyne to len’ no mo’ money ’dout I see de security. Boun’ to git yo’ money back a hund’d times, de preacher says! Ef I could git de ten cents back, I’d call it squah, en be glad er de chanst.”
+
+“Well, it’s all right anyway, Jim, long as you’re going to be rich again some time or other.”
+
+“Yes; en I’s rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I’s wuth eight hund’d dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn’ want no mo’.”
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+I wanted to go and look at a place right about the middle of the island that I’d found when I was exploring; so we started and soon got to it, because the island was only three miles long and a quarter of a mile wide.
+
+This place was a tolerable long, steep hill or ridge about forty foot high. We had a rough time getting to the top, the sides was so steep and the bushes so thick. We tramped and clumb around all over it, and by-and-by found a good big cavern in the rock, most up to the top on the side towards Illinois. The cavern was as big as two or three rooms bunched together, and Jim could stand up straight in it. It was cool in there. Jim was for putting our traps in there right away, but I said we didn’t want to be climbing up and down there all the time.
+
+Jim said if we had the canoe hid in a good place, and had all the traps in the cavern, we could rush there if anybody was to come to the island, and they would never find us without dogs. And, besides, he said them little birds had said it was going to rain, and did I want the things to get wet?
+
+So we went back and got the canoe, and paddled up abreast the cavern, and lugged all the traps up there. Then we hunted up a place close by to hide the canoe in, amongst the thick willows. We took some fish off of the lines and set them again, and begun to get ready for dinner.
+
+The door of the cavern was big enough to roll a hogshead in, and on one side of the door the floor stuck out a little bit, and was flat and a good place to build a fire on. So we built it there and cooked dinner.
+
+We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in there. We put all the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty soon it darkened up, and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was right about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, too, and I never see the wind blow so. It was one of these regular summer storms. It would get so dark that it looked all blue-black outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and here would come a blast of wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale underside of the leaves; and then a perfect ripper of a gust would follow along and set the branches to tossing their arms as if they was just wild; and next, when it was just about the bluest and blackest — fst! it was as bright as glory, and you’d have a little glimpse of tree-tops a-plunging about away off yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see before; dark as sin again in a second, and now you’d hear the thunder let go with an awful crash, and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling, down the sky towards the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels down stairs — where it’s long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you know.
+
+“Jim, this is nice,” I says. “I wouldn’t want to be nowhere else but here. Pass me along another hunk of fish and some hot corn-bread.”
+
+“Well, you wouldn’t a ben here ’f it hadn’t a ben for Jim. You’d a ben down dah in de woods widout any dinner, en gittn’ mos’ drownded, too; dat you would, honey. Chickens knows when it’s gwyne to rain, en so do de birds, chile.”
+
+The river went on raising and raising for ten or twelve days, till at last it was over the banks. The water was three or four foot deep on the island in the low places and on the Illinois bottom. On that side it was a good many miles wide, but on the Missouri side it was the same old distance across — a half a mile — because the Missouri shore was just a wall of high bluffs.
+
+Daytimes we paddled all over the island in the canoe, It was mighty cool and shady in the deep woods, even if the sun was blazing outside. We went winding in and out amongst the trees, and sometimes the vines hung so thick we had to back away and go some other way. Well, on every old broken-down tree you could see rabbits and snakes and such things; and when the island had been overflowed a day or two they got so tame, on account of being hungry, that you could paddle right up and put your hand on them if you wanted to; but not the snakes and turtles — they would slide off in the water. The ridge our cavern was in was full of them. We could a had pets enough if we’d wanted them.
+
+One night we catched a little section of a lumber raft — nice pine planks. It was twelve foot wide and about fifteen or sixteen foot long, and the top stood above water six or seven inches — a solid, level floor. We could see saw-logs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go; we didn’t show ourselves in daylight.
+
+Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before daylight, here comes a frame-house down, on the west side. She was a two-story, and tilted over considerable. We paddled out and got aboard — clumb in at an upstairs window. But it was too dark to see yet, so we made the canoe fast and set in her to wait for daylight.
+
+The light begun to come before we got to the foot of the island. Then we looked in at the window. We could make out a bed, and a table, and two old chairs, and lots of things around about on the floor, and there was clothes hanging against the wall. There was something laying on the floor in the far corner that looked like a man. So Jim says:
+
+“Hello, you!”
+
+But it didn’t budge. So I hollered again, and then Jim says:
+
+“De man ain’t asleep — he’s dead. You hold still — I’ll go en see.”
+
+He went, and bent down and looked, and says:
+
+“It’s a dead man. Yes, indeedy; naked, too. He’s ben shot in de back. I reck’n he’s ben dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan’ look at his face — it’s too gashly.”
+
+I didn’t look at him at all. Jim throwed some old rags over him, but he needn’t done it; I didn’t want to see him. There was heaps of old greasy cards scattered around over the floor, and old whisky bottles, and a couple of masks made out of black cloth; and all over the walls was the ignorantest kind of words and pictures made with charcoal. There was two old dirty calico dresses, and a sun-bonnet, and some women’s underclothes hanging against the wall, and some men’s clothing, too. We put the lot into the canoe — it might come good. There was a boy’s old speckled straw hat on the floor; I took that, too. And there was a bottle that had had milk in it, and it had a rag stopper for a baby to suck. We would a took the bottle, but it was broke. There was a seedy old chest, and an old hair trunk with the hinges broke. They stood open, but there warn’t nothing left in them that was any account. The way things was scattered about we reckoned the people left in a hurry, and warn’t fixed so as to carry off most of their stuff.
+
+We got an old tin lantern, and a butcher-knife without any handle, and a bran-new Barlow knife worth two bits in any store, and a lot of tallow candles, and a tin candlestick, and a gourd, and a tin cup, and a ratty old bedquilt off the bed, and a reticule with needles and pins and beeswax and buttons and thread and all such truck in it, and a hatchet and some nails, and a fishline as thick as my little finger with some monstrous hooks on it, and a roll of buckskin, and a leather dog-collar, and a horseshoe, and some vials of medicine that didn’t have no label on them; and just as we was leaving I found a tolerable good curry-comb, and Jim he found a ratty old fiddle-bow, and a wooden leg. The straps was broke off of it, but, barring that, it was a good enough leg, though it was too long for me and not long enough for Jim, and we couldn’t find the other one, though we hunted all around.
+
+And so, take it all around, we made a good haul. When we was ready to shove off we was a quarter of a mile below the island, and it was pretty broad day; so I made Jim lay down in the canoe and cover up with the quilt, because if he set up people could tell he was a nigger a good ways off. I paddled over to the Illinois shore, and drifted down most a half a mile doing it. I crept up the dead water under the bank, and hadn’t no accidents and didn’t see nobody. We got home all safe.
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+After breakfast I wanted to talk about the dead man and guess out how he come to be killed, but Jim didn’t want to. He said it would fetch bad luck; and besides, he said, he might come and ha’nt us; he said a man that warn’t buried was more likely to go a-ha’nting around than one that was planted and comfortable. That sounded pretty reasonable, so I didn’t say no more; but I couldn’t keep from studying over it and wishing I knowed who shot the man, and what they done it for.
+
+We rummaged the clothes we’d got, and found eight dollars in silver sewed up in the lining of an old blanket overcoat. Jim said he reckoned the people in that house stole the coat, because if they’d a knowed the money was there they wouldn’t a left it. I said I reckoned they killed him, too; but Jim didn’t want to talk about that. I says:
+
+“Now you think it’s bad luck; but what did you say when I fetched in the snake-skin that I found on the top of the ridge day before yesterday? You said it was the worst bad luck in the world to touch a snake-skin with my hands. Well, here’s your bad luck! We’ve raked in all this truck and eight dollars besides. I wish we could have some bad luck like this every day, Jim.”
+
+“Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don’t you git too peart. It’s a-comin’. Mind I tell you, it’s a-comin’.”
+
+It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after dinner Friday we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the ridge, and got out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to get some, and found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the foot of Jim’s blanket, ever so natural, thinking there’d be some fun when Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, and when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light the snake’s mate was there, and bit him.
+
+He jumped up yelling, and the first thing the light showed was the varmint curled up and ready for another spring. I laid him out in a second with a stick, and Jim grabbed pap’s whisky-jug and begun to pour it down.
+
+He was barefooted, and the snake bit him right on the heel. That all comes of my being such a fool as to not remember that wherever you leave a dead snake its mate always comes there and curls around it. Jim told me to chop off the snake’s head and throw it away, and then skin the body and roast a piece of it. I done it, and he eat it and said it would help cure him. He made me take off the rattles and tie them around his wrist, too. He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet and throwed the snakes clear away amongst the bushes; for I warn’t going to let Jim find out it was all my fault, not if I could help it.
+
+Jim sucked and sucked at the jug, and now and then he got out of his head and pitched around and yelled; but every time he come to himself he went to sucking at the jug again. His foot swelled up pretty big, and so did his leg; but by-and-by the drunk begun to come, and so I judged he was all right; but I’d druther been bit with a snake than pap’s whisky.
+
+Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all gone and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn’t ever take a-holt of a snake-skin again with my hands, now that I see what had come of it. Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. And he said that handling a snake-skin was such awful bad luck that maybe we hadn’t got to the end of it yet. He said he druther see the new moon over his left shoulder as much as a thousand times than take up a snake-skin in his hand. Well, I was getting to feel that way myself, though I’ve always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell off of the shot-tower, and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of a layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn’t see it. Pap told me. But anyway it all come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool.
+
+Well, the days went along, and the river went down between its banks again; and about the first thing we done was to bait one of the big hooks with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a catfish that was as big as a man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two hundred pounds. We couldn’t handle him, of course; he would a flung us into Illinois. We just set there and watched him rip and tear around till he drownded. We found a brass button in his stomach and a round ball, and lots of rubbage. We split the ball open with the hatchet, and there was a spool in it. Jim said he’d had it there a long time, to coat it over so and make a ball of it. It was as big a fish as was ever catched in the Mississippi, I reckon. Jim said he hadn’t ever seen a bigger one. He would a been worth a good deal over at the village. They peddle out such a fish as that by the pound in the market-house there; everybody buys some of him; his meat’s as white as snow and makes a good fry.
+
+Next morning I said it was getting slow and dull, and I wanted to get a stirring up some way. I said I reckoned I would slip over the river and find out what was going on. Jim liked that notion; but he said I must go in the dark and look sharp. Then he studied it over and said, couldn’t I put on some of them old things and dress up like a girl? That was a good notion, too. So we shortened up one of the calico gowns, and I turned up my trouser-legs to my knees and got into it. Jim hitched it behind with the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on the sun-bonnet and tied it under my chin, and then for a body to look in and see my face was like looking down a joint of stove-pipe. Jim said nobody would know me, even in the daytime, hardly. I practiced around all day to get the hang of the things, and by-and-by I could do pretty well in them, only Jim said I didn’t walk like a girl; and he said I must quit pulling up my gown to get at my britches-pocket. I took notice, and done better.
+
+I started up the Illinois shore in the canoe just after dark.
+
+I started across to the town from a little below the ferry-landing, and the drift of the current fetched me in at the bottom of the town. I tied up and started along the bank. There was a light burning in a little shanty that hadn’t been lived in for a long time, and I wondered who had took up quarters there. I slipped up and peeped in at the window. There was a woman about forty year old in there knitting by a candle that was on a pine table. I didn’t know her face; she was a stranger, for you couldn’t start a face in that town that I didn’t know. Now this was lucky, because I was weakening; I was getting afraid I had come; people might know my voice and find me out. But if this woman had been in such a little town two days she could tell me all I wanted to know; so I knocked at the door, and made up my mind I wouldn’t forget I was a girl.
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+“Come in,” says the woman, and I did. She says: “Take a cheer.”
+
+I done it. She looked me all over with her little shiny eyes, and says:
+
+“What might your name be?”
+
+“Sarah Williams.”
+
+“Where ’bouts do you live? In this neighborhood?’
+
+“No’m. In Hookerville, seven mile below. I’ve walked all the way and I’m all tired out.”
+
+“Hungry, too, I reckon. I’ll find you something.”
+
+“No’m, I ain’t hungry. I was so hungry I had to stop two miles below here at a farm; so I ain’t hungry no more. It’s what makes me so late. My mother’s down sick, and out of money and everything, and I come to tell my uncle Abner Moore. He lives at the upper end of the town, she says. I hain’t ever been here before. Do you know him?”
+
+“No; but I don’t know everybody yet. I haven’t lived here quite two weeks. It’s a considerable ways to the upper end of the town. You better stay here all night. Take off your bonnet.”
+
+“No,” I says; “I’ll rest a while, I reckon, and go on. I ain’t afeared of the dark.”
+
+She said she wouldn’t let me go by myself, but her husband would be in by-and-by, maybe in a hour and a half, and she’d send him along with me. Then she got to talking about her husband, and about her relations up the river, and her relations down the river, and about how much better off they used to was, and how they didn’t know but they’d made a mistake coming to our town, instead of letting well alone — and so on and so on, till I was afeard I had made a mistake coming to her to find out what was going on in the town; but by-and-by she dropped on to pap and the murder, and then I was pretty willing to let her clatter right along. She told about me and Tom Sawyer finding the six thousand dollars (only she got it ten) and all about pap and what a hard lot he was, and what a hard lot I was, and at last she got down to where I was murdered. I says:
+
+“Who done it? We’ve heard considerable about these goings on down in Hookerville, but we don’t know who ’twas that killed Huck Finn.”
+
+“Well, I reckon there’s a right smart chance of people here that’d like to know who killed him. Some think old Finn done it himself.”
+
+“No — is that so?”
+
+“Most everybody thought it at first. He’ll never know how nigh he come to getting lynched. But before night they changed around and judged it was done by a runaway nigger named Jim.”
+
+“Why he — ”
+
+I stopped. I reckoned I better keep still. She run on, and never noticed I had put in at all:
+
+“The nigger run off the very night Huck Finn was killed. So there’s a reward out for him — three hundred dollars. And there’s a reward out for old Finn, too — two hundred dollars. You see, he come to town the morning after the murder, and told about it, and was out with ’em on the ferry-boat hunt, and right away after he up and left. Before night they wanted to lynch him, but he was gone, you see. Well, next day they found out the nigger was gone; they found out he hadn’t ben seen sence ten o’clock the night the murder was done. So then they put it on him, you see; and while they was full of it, next day, back comes old Finn, and went boo-hooing to Judge Thatcher to get money to hunt for the nigger all over Illinois with. The judge gave him some, and that evening he got drunk, and was around till after midnight with a couple of mighty hard-looking strangers, and then went off with them. Well, he hain’t come back sence, and they ain’t looking for him back till this thing blows over a little, for people thinks now that he killed his boy and fixed things so folks would think robbers done it, and then he’d get Huck’s money without having to bother a long time with a lawsuit. People do say he warn’t any too good to do it. Oh, he’s sly, I reckon. If he don’t come back for a year he’ll be all right. You can’t prove anything on him, you know; everything will be quieted down then, and he’ll walk in Huck’s money as easy as nothing.”
+
+“Yes, I reckon so, ’m. I don’t see nothing in the way of it. Has everybody quit thinking the nigger done it?”
+
+“Oh, no, not everybody. A good many thinks he done it. But they’ll get the nigger pretty soon now, and maybe they can scare it out of him.”
+
+“Why, are they after him yet?”
+
+“Well, you’re innocent, ain’t you! Does three hundred dollars lay around every day for people to pick up? Some folks think the nigger ain’t far from here. I’m one of them — but I hain’t talked it around. A few days ago I was talking with an old couple that lives next door in the log shanty, and they happened to say hardly anybody ever goes to that island over yonder that they call Jackson’s Island. Don’t anybody live there? says I. No, nobody, says they. I didn’t say any more, but I done some thinking. I was pretty near certain I’d seen smoke over there, about the head of the island, a day or two before that, so I says to myself, like as not that nigger’s hiding over there; anyway, says I, it’s worth the trouble to give the place a hunt. I hain’t seen any smoke sence, so I reckon maybe he’s gone, if it was him; but husband’s going over to see — him and another man. He was gone up the river; but he got back to-day, and I told him as soon as he got here two hours ago.”
+
+I had got so uneasy I couldn’t set still. I had to do something with my hands; so I took up a needle off of the table and went to threading it. My hands shook, and I was making a bad job of it. When the woman stopped talking I looked up, and she was looking at me pretty curious and smiling a little. I put down the needle and thread, and let on to be interested — and I was, too — and says:
+
+“Three hundred dollars is a power of money. I wish my mother could get it. Is your husband going over there to-night?”
+
+“Oh, yes. He went up-town with the man I was telling you of, to get a boat and see if they could borrow another gun. They’ll go over after midnight.”
+
+“Couldn’t they see better if they was to wait till daytime?”
+
+“Yes. And couldn’t the nigger see better, too? After midnight he’ll likely be asleep, and they can slip around through the woods and hunt up his camp fire all the better for the dark, if he’s got one.”
+
+“I didn’t think of that.”
+
+The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn’t feel a bit comfortable. Pretty soon she says,
+
+“What did you say your name was, honey?”
+
+“M — Mary Williams.”
+
+Somehow it didn’t seem to me that I said it was Mary before, so I didn’t look up — seemed to me I said it was Sarah; so I felt sort of cornered, and was afeared maybe I was looking it, too. I wished the woman would say something more; the longer she set still the uneasier I was. But now she says:
+
+“Honey, I thought you said it was Sarah when you first come in?”
+
+“Oh, yes’m, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah’s my first name. Some calls me Sarah, some calls me Mary.”
+
+“Oh, that’s the way of it?”
+
+“Yes’m.”
+
+I was feeling better then, but I wished I was out of there, anyway. I couldn’t look up yet.
+
+Well, the woman fell to talking about how hard times was, and how poor they had to live, and how the rats was as free as if they owned the place, and so forth and so on, and then I got easy again. She was right about the rats. You’d see one stick his nose out of a hole in the corner every little while. She said she had to have things handy to throw at them when she was alone, or they wouldn’t give her no peace. She showed me a bar of lead twisted up into a knot, and said she was a good shot with it generly, but she’d wrenched her arm a day or two ago, and didn’t know whether she could throw true now. But she watched for a chance, and directly banged away at a rat; but she missed him wide, and said “Ouch!” it hurt her arm so. Then she told me to try for the next one. I wanted to be getting away before the old man got back, but of course I didn’t let on. I got the thing, and the first rat that showed his nose I let drive, and if he’d a stayed where he was he’d a been a tolerable sick rat. She said that was first-rate, and she reckoned I would hive the next one. She went and got the lump of lead and fetched it back, and brought along a hank of yarn which she wanted me to help her with. I held up my two hands and she put the hank over them, and went on talking about her and her husband’s matters. But she broke off to say:
+
+“Keep your eye on the rats. You better have the lead in your lap, handy.”
+
+So she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment, and I clapped my legs together on it and she went on talking. But only about a minute. Then she took off the hank and looked me straight in the face, and very pleasant, and says:
+
+“Come, now, what’s your real name?”
+
+“Wh — what, mum?”
+
+“What’s your real name? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob? — or what is it?”
+
+I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn’t know hardly what to do. But I says:
+
+“Please to don’t poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I’m in the way here, I’ll — ”
+
+“No, you won’t. Set down and stay where you are. I ain’t going to hurt you, and I ain’t going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your secret, and trust me. I’ll keep it; and, what’s more, I’ll help you. So’ll my old man if you want him to. You see, you’re a runaway ’prentice, that’s all. It ain’t anything. There ain’t no harm in it. You’ve been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut. Bless you, child, I wouldn’t tell on you. Tell me all about it now, that’s a good boy.”
+
+So I said it wouldn’t be no use to try to play it any longer, and I would just make a clean breast and tell her everything, but she musn’t go back on her promise. Then I told her my father and mother was dead, and the law had bound me out to a mean old farmer in the country thirty mile back from the river, and he treated me so bad I couldn’t stand it no longer; he went away to be gone a couple of days, and so I took my chance and stole some of his daughter’s old clothes and cleared out, and I had been three nights coming the thirty miles. I traveled nights, and hid daytimes and slept, and the bag of bread and meat I carried from home lasted me all the way, and I had a-plenty. I said I believed my uncle Abner Moore would take care of me, and so that was why I struck out for this town of Goshen.
+
+“Goshen, child? This ain’t Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen’s ten mile further up the river. Who told you this was Goshen?”
+
+“Why, a man I met at daybreak this morning, just as I was going to turn into the woods for my regular sleep. He told me when the roads forked I must take the right hand, and five mile would fetch me to Goshen.”
+
+“He was drunk, I reckon. He told you just exactly wrong.”
+
+“Well, he did act like he was drunk, but it ain’t no matter now. I got to be moving along. I’ll fetch Goshen before daylight.”
+
+“Hold on a minute. I’ll put you up a snack to eat. You might want it.”
+
+So she put me up a snack, and says:
+
+“Say, when a cow’s laying down, which end of her gets up first? Answer up prompt now — don’t stop to study over it. Which end gets up first?”
+
+“The hind end, mum.”
+
+“Well, then, a horse?”
+
+“The for’rard end, mum.”
+
+“Which side of a tree does the moss grow on?”
+
+“North side.”
+
+“If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with their heads pointed the same direction?”
+
+“The whole fifteen, mum.”
+
+“Well, I reckon you have lived in the country. I thought maybe you was trying to hocus me again. What’s your real name, now?”
+
+“George Peters, mum.”
+
+“Well, try to remember it, George. Don’t forget and tell me it’s Elexander before you go, and then get out by saying it’s George Elexander when I catch you. And don’t go about women in that old calico. You do a girl tolerable poor, but you might fool men, maybe. Bless you, child, when you set out to thread a needle don’t hold the thread still and fetch the needle up to it; hold the needle still and poke the thread at it; that’s the way a woman most always does, but a man always does t’other way. And when you throw at a rat or anything, hitch yourself up a tiptoe and fetch your hand up over your head as awkward as you can, and miss your rat about six or seven foot. Throw stiff-armed from the shoulder, like there was a pivot there for it to turn on, like a girl; not from the wrist and elbow, with your arm out to one side, like a boy. And, mind you, when a girl tries to catch anything in her lap she throws her knees apart; she don’t clap them together, the way you did when you catched the lump of lead. Why, I spotted you for a boy when you was threading the needle; and I contrived the other things just to make certain. Now trot along to your uncle, Sarah Mary Williams George Elexander Peters, and if you get into trouble you send word to Mrs. Judith Loftus, which is me, and I’ll do what I can to get you out of it. Keep the river road all the way, and next time you tramp take shoes and socks with you. The river road’s a rocky one, and your feet’ll be in a condition when you get to Goshen, I reckon.”
+
+I went up the bank about fifty yards, and then I doubled on my tracks and slipped back to where my canoe was, a good piece below the house. I jumped in, and was off in a hurry. I went up-stream far enough to make the head of the island, and then started across. I took off the sun-bonnet, for I didn’t want no blinders on then. When I was about the middle I heard the clock begin to strike, so I stops and listens; the sound come faint over the water but clear — eleven. When I struck the head of the island I never waited to blow, though I was most winded, but I shoved right into the timber where my old camp used to be, and started a good fire there on a high and dry spot.
+
+Then I jumped in the canoe and dug out for our place, a mile and a half below, as hard as I could go. I landed, and slopped through the timber and up the ridge and into the cavern. There Jim laid, sound asleep on the ground. I roused him out and says:
+
+“Git up and hump yourself, Jim! There ain’t a minute to lose. They’re after us!”
+
+Jim never asked no questions, he never said a word; but the way he worked for the next half an hour showed about how he was scared. By that time everything we had in the world was on our raft, and she was ready to be shoved out from the willow cove where she was hid. We put out the camp fire at the cavern the first thing, and didn’t show a candle outside after that.
+
+I took the canoe out from the shore a little piece, and took a look; but if there was a boat around I couldn’t see it, for stars and shadows ain’t good to see by. Then we got out the raft and slipped along down in the shade, past the foot of the island dead still — never saying a word.
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+It must a been close on to one o’clock when we got below the island at last, and the raft did seem to go mighty slow. If a boat was to come along we was going to take to the canoe and break for the Illinois shore; and it was well a boat didn’t come, for we hadn’t ever thought to put the gun in the canoe, or a fishing-line, or anything to eat. We was in ruther too much of a sweat to think of so many things. It warn’t good judgment to put everything on the raft.
+
+If the men went to the island I just expect they found the camp fire I built, and watched it all night for Jim to come. Anyways, they stayed away from us, and if my building the fire never fooled them it warn’t no fault of mine. I played it as low down on them as I could.
+
+When the first streak of day began to show we tied up to a tow-head in a big bend on the Illinois side, and hacked off cottonwood branches with the hatchet, and covered up the raft with them so she looked like there had been a cave-in in the bank there. A tow-head is a sandbar that has cottonwoods on it as thick as harrow-teeth.
+
+We had mountains on the Missouri shore and heavy timber on the Illinois side, and the channel was down the Missouri shore at that place, so we warn’t afraid of anybody running across us. We laid there all day, and watched the rafts and steamboats spin down the Missouri shore, and up-bound steamboats fight the big river in the middle. I told Jim all about the time I had jabbering with that woman; and Jim said she was a smart one, and if she was to start after us herself she wouldn’t set down and watch a camp fire — no, sir, she’d fetch a dog. Well, then, I said, why couldn’t she tell her husband to fetch a dog? Jim said he bet she did think of it by the time the men was ready to start, and he believed they must a gone up-town to get a dog and so they lost all that time, or else we wouldn’t be here on a tow-head sixteen or seventeen mile below the village — no, indeedy, we would be in that same old town again. So I said I didn’t care what was the reason they didn’t get us as long as they didn’t.
+
+When it was beginning to come on dark we poked our heads out of the cottonwood thicket, and looked up and down and across; nothing in sight; so Jim took up some of the top planks of the raft and built a snug wigwam to get under in blazing weather and rainy, and to keep the things dry. Jim made a floor for the wigwam, and raised it a foot or more above the level of the raft, so now the blankets and all the traps was out of reach of steamboat waves. Right in the middle of the wigwam we made a layer of dirt about five or six inches deep with a frame around it for to hold it to its place; this was to build a fire on in sloppy weather or chilly; the wigwam would keep it from being seen. We made an extra steering-oar, too, because one of the others might get broke on a snag or something. We fixed up a short forked stick to hang the old lantern on, because we must always light the lantern whenever we see a steamboat coming down-stream, to keep from getting run over; but we wouldn’t have to light it for up-stream boats unless we see we was in what they call a “crossing”; for the river was pretty high yet, very low banks being still a little under water; so up-bound boats didn’t always run the channel, but hunted easy water.
+
+This second night we run between seven and eight hours, with a current that was making over four mile an hour. We catched fish and talked, and we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on our backs looking up at the stars, and we didn’t ever feel like talking loud, and it warn’t often that we laughed — only a little kind of a low chuckle. We had mighty good weather as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us at all — that night, nor the next, nor the next.
+
+Every night we passed towns, some of them away up on black hillsides, nothing but just a shiny bed of lights; not a house could you see. The fifth night we passed St. Louis, and it was like the whole world lit up. In St. Petersburg they used to say there was twenty or thirty thousand people in St. Louis, but I never believed it till I see that wonderful spread of lights at two o’clock that still night. There warn’t a sound there; everybody was asleep.
+
+Every night now I used to slip ashore towards ten o’clock at some little village, and buy ten or fifteen cents’ worth of meal or bacon or other stuff to eat; and sometimes I lifted a chicken that warn’t roosting comfortable, and took him along. Pap always said, take a chicken when you get a chance, because if you don’t want him yourself you can easy find somebody that does, and a good deed ain’t ever forgot. I never see pap when he didn’t want the chicken himself, but that is what he used to say, anyway.
+
+Mornings before daylight I slipped into cornfields and borrowed a watermelon, or a mushmelon, or a punkin, or some new corn, or things of that kind. Pap always said it warn’t no harm to borrow things if you was meaning to pay them back some time; but the widow said it warn’t anything but a soft name for stealing, and no decent body would do it. Jim said he reckoned the widow was partly right and pap was partly right; so the best way would be for us to pick out two or three things from the list and say we wouldn’t borrow them any more — then he reckoned it wouldn’t be no harm to borrow the others. So we talked it over all one night, drifting along down the river, trying to make up our minds whether to drop the watermelons, or the cantelopes, or the mushmelons, or what. But towards daylight we got it all settled satisfactory, and concluded to drop crabapples and p’simmons. We warn’t feeling just right before that, but it was all comfortable now. I was glad the way it come out, too, because crabapples ain’t ever good, and the p’simmons wouldn’t be ripe for two or three months yet.
+
+We shot a water-fowl, now and, then that got up too early in the morning or didn’t go to bed early enough in the evening. Take it all round, we lived pretty high.
+
+The fifth night below St. Louis we had a big storm after midnight, with a power of thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in a solid sheet. We stayed in the wigwam and let the raft take care of itself. When the lightning glared out we could see a big straight river ahead, and high, rocky bluffs on both sides. By-and-by says I, “Hel-lo, Jim, looky yonder!” It was a steamboat that had killed herself on a rock. We was drifting straight down for her. The lightning showed her very distinct. She was leaning over, with part of her upper deck above water, and you could see every little chimbly-guy clean and clear, and a chair by the big bell, with an old slouch hat hanging on the back of it, when the flashes come.
+
+Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysterious-like, I felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck laying there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river. I wanted to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what there was there. So I says:
+
+“Le’s land on her, Jim.”
+
+But Jim was dead against it at first. He says:
+
+“I doan’ want to go fool’n ’long er no wrack. We’s doin’ blame’ well, en we better let blame’ well alone, as de good book says. Like as not dey’s a watchman on dat wrack.”
+
+“Watchman your grandmother,” I says; “there ain’t nothing to watch but the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon anybody’s going to resk his life for a texas and a pilot-house such a night as this, when it’s likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?” Jim couldn’t say nothing to that, so he didn’t try. “And besides,” I says, “we might borrow something worth having out of the captain’s stateroom. Seegars, I bet you — and cost five cents apiece, solid cash. Steamboat captains is always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and they don’t care a cent what a thing costs, you know, long as they want it. Stick a candle in your pocket; I can’t rest, Jim, till we give her a rummaging. Do you reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this thing? Not for pie, he wouldn’t. He’d call it an adventure — that’s what he’d call it; and he’d land on that wreck if it was his last act. And wouldn’t he throw style into it? — wouldn’t he spread himself, nor nothing? Why, you’d think it was Christopher C’lumbus discovering Kingdom-Come. I wish Tom Sawyer was here.”
+
+Jim he grumbled a little, but give in. He said we mustn’t talk any more than we could help, and then talk mighty low. The lightning showed us the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard derrick, and made fast there.
+
+The deck was high out here. We went sneaking down the slope of it to labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so dark we couldn’t see no sign of them. Pretty soon we struck the forward end of the skylight, and clumb on to it; and the next step fetched us in front of the captain’s door, which was open, and by Jimminy, away down through the texas-hall we see a light! and all in the same second we seem to hear low voices in yonder!
+
+Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come along. I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft; but just then I heard a voice wail out and say:
+
+“Oh, please don’t, boys; I swear I won’t ever tell!”
+
+Another voice said, pretty loud:
+
+“It’s a lie, Jim Turner. You’ve acted this way before. You always want more’n your share of the truck, and you’ve always got it, too, because you’ve swore ’t if you didn’t you’d tell. But this time you’ve said it jest one time too many. You’re the meanest, treacherousest hound in this country.”
+
+By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just a-biling with curiosity; and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer wouldn’t back out now, and so I won’t either; I’m a-going to see what’s going on here. So I dropped on my hands and knees in the little passage, and crept aft in the dark till there warn’t but one stateroom betwixt me and the cross-hall of the texas. Then in there I see a man stretched on the floor and tied hand and foot, and two men standing over him, and one of them had a dim lantern in his hand, and the other one had a pistol. This one kept pointing the pistol at the man’s head on the floor, and saying:
+
+“I’d like to! And I orter, too — a mean skunk!”
+
+The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, “Oh, please don’t, Bill; I hain’t ever goin’ to tell.”
+
+And every time he said that the man with the lantern would laugh and say:
+
+“’Deed you ain’t! You never said no truer thing ’n that, you bet you.” And once he said: “Hear him beg! and yit if we hadn’t got the best of him and tied him he’d a killed us both. And what for? Jist for noth’n. Jist because we stood on our rights — that’s what for. But I lay you ain’t a-goin’ to threaten nobody any more, Jim Turner. Put up that pistol, Bill.”
+
+Bill says:
+
+“I don’t want to, Jake Packard. I’m for killin’ him — and didn’t he kill old Hatfield jist the same way — and don’t he deserve it?”
+
+“But I don’t want him killed, and I’ve got my reasons for it.”
+
+“Bless yo’ heart for them words, Jake Packard! I’ll never forgit you long’s I live!” says the man on the floor, sort of blubbering.
+
+Packard didn’t take no notice of that, but hung up his lantern on a nail and started towards where I was there in the dark, and motioned Bill to come. I crawfished as fast as I could about two yards, but the boat slanted so that I couldn’t make very good time; so to keep from getting run over and catched I crawled into a stateroom on the upper side. The man came a-pawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my stateroom, he says:
+
+“Here — come in here.”
+
+And in he come, and Bill after him. But before they got in I was up in the upper berth, cornered, and sorry I come. Then they stood there, with their hands on the ledge of the berth, and talked. I couldn’t see them, but I could tell where they was by the whisky they’d been having. I was glad I didn’t drink whisky; but it wouldn’t made much difference anyway, because most of the time they couldn’t a treed me because I didn’t breathe. I was too scared. And, besides, a body couldn’t breathe and hear such talk. They talked low and earnest. Bill wanted to kill Turner. He says:
+
+“He’s said he’ll tell, and he will. If we was to give both our shares to him now it wouldn’t make no difference after the row and the way we’ve served him. Shore’s you’re born, he’ll turn State’s evidence; now you hear me. I’m for putting him out of his troubles.”
+
+“So’m I,” says Packard, very quiet.
+
+“Blame it, I’d sorter begun to think you wasn’t. Well, then, that’s all right. Le’s go and do it.”
+
+“Hold on a minute; I hain’t had my say yit. You listen to me. Shooting’s good, but there’s quieter ways if the thing’s got to be done. But what I say is this: it ain’t good sense to go court’n around after a halter if you can git at what you’re up to in some way that’s jist as good and at the same time don’t bring you into no resks. Ain’t that so?”
+
+“You bet it is. But how you goin’ to manage it this time?”
+
+“Well, my idea is this: we’ll rustle around and gather up whatever pickins we’ve overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and hide the truck. Then we’ll wait. Now I say it ain’t a-goin’ to be more’n two hours befo’ this wrack breaks up and washes off down the river. See? He’ll be drownded, and won’t have nobody to blame for it but his own self. I reckon that’s a considerble sight better ’n killin’ of him. I’m unfavorable to killin’ a man as long as you can git aroun’ it; it ain’t good sense, it ain’t good morals. Ain’t I right?”
+
+“Yes, I reck’n you are. But s’pose she don’t break up and wash off?”
+
+“Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can’t we?”
+
+“All right, then; come along.”
+
+So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse whisper, “Jim!” and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a moan, and I says:
+
+“Quick, Jim, it ain’t no time for fooling around and moaning; there’s a gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don’t hunt up their boat and set her drifting down the river so these fellows can’t get away from the wreck there’s one of ’em going to be in a bad fix. But if we find their boat we can put all of ’em in a bad fix — for the Sheriff ’ll get ’em. Quick — hurry! I’ll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. You start at the raft, and — ”
+
+“Oh, my lordy, lordy! Raf’? Dey ain’ no raf’ no mo’; she done broke loose en gone I — en here we is!”
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+Well, I catched my breath and most fainted. Shut up on a wreck with such a gang as that! But it warn’t no time to be sentimentering. We’d got to find that boat now — had to have it for ourselves. So we went a-quaking and shaking down the stabboard side, and slow work it was, too — seemed a week before we got to the stern. No sign of a boat. Jim said he didn’t believe he could go any further — so scared he hadn’t hardly any strength left, he said. But I said, come on, if we get left on this wreck we are in a fix, sure. So on we prowled again. We struck for the stern of the texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along forwards on the skylight, hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the edge of the skylight was in the water. When we got pretty close to the cross-hall door, there was the skiff, sure enough! I could just barely see her. I felt ever so thankful. In another second I would a been aboard of her, but just then the door opened. One of the men stuck his head out only about a couple of foot from me, and I thought I was gone; but he jerked it in again, and says:
+
+“Heave that blame lantern out o’ sight, Bill!”
+
+He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and set down. It was Packard. Then Bill he come out and got in. Packard says, in a low voice:
+
+“All ready — shove off!”
+
+I couldn’t hardly hang on to the shutters, I was so weak. But Bill says:
+
+“Hold on — ’d you go through him?”
+
+“No. Didn’t you?”
+
+“No. So he’s got his share o’ the cash yet.”
+
+“Well, then, come along; no use to take truck and leave money.”
+
+“Say, won’t he suspicion what we’re up to?”
+
+“Maybe he won’t. But we got to have it anyway. Come along.”
+
+So they got out and went in.
+
+The door slammed to because it was on the careened side; and in a half second I was in the boat, and Jim come tumbling after me. I out with my knife and cut the rope, and away we went!
+
+We didn’t touch an oar, and we didn’t speak nor whisper, nor hardly even breathe. We went gliding swift along, dead silent, past the tip of the paddle-box, and past the stern; then in a second or two more we was a hundred yards below the wreck, and the darkness soaked her up, every last sign of her, and we was safe, and knowed it.
+
+When we was three or four hundred yards down-stream we see the lantern show like a little spark at the texas door for a second, and we knowed by that that the rascals had missed their boat, and was beginning to understand that they was in just as much trouble now as Jim Turner was.
+
+Then Jim manned the oars, and we took out after our raft. Now was the first time that I begun to worry about the men — I reckon I hadn’t had time to before. I begun to think how dreadful it was, even for murderers, to be in such a fix. I says to myself, there ain’t no telling but I might come to be a murderer myself yet, and then how would I like it? So says I to Jim:
+
+“The first light we see we’ll land a hundred yards below it or above it, in a place where it’s a good hiding-place for you and the skiff, and then I’ll go and fix up some kind of a yarn, and get somebody to go for that gang and get them out of their scrape, so they can be hung when their time comes.”
+
+But that idea was a failure; for pretty soon it begun to storm again, and this time worse than ever. The rain poured down, and never a light showed; everybody in bed, I reckon. We boomed along down the river, watching for lights and watching for our raft. After a long time the rain let up, but the clouds stayed, and the lightning kept whimpering, and by-and-by a flash showed us a black thing ahead, floating, and we made for it.
+
+It was the raft, and mighty glad was we to get aboard of it again. We seen a light now away down to the right, on shore. So I said I would go for it. The skiff was half full of plunder which that gang had stole there on the wreck. We hustled it on to the raft in a pile, and I told Jim to float along down, and show a light when he judged he had gone about two mile, and keep it burning till I come; then I manned my oars and shoved for the light. As I got down towards it, three or four more showed — up on a hillside. It was a village. I closed in above the shore light, and laid on my oars and floated. As I went by, I see it was a lantern hanging on the jackstaff of a double-hull ferry-boat. I skimmed around for the watchman, a-wondering whereabouts he slept; and by-and-by I found him roosting on the bitts, forward, with his head down between his knees. I gave his shoulder two or three little shoves, and begun to cry.
+
+He stirred up, in a kind of a startlish way; but when he see it was only me, he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says:
+
+“Hello, what’s up? Don’t cry, bub. What’s the trouble?”
+
+I says:
+
+“Pap, and mam, and sis, and — ”
+
+Then I broke down. He says:
+
+“Oh, dang it now, don’t take on so; we all has to have our troubles, and this’n ’ll come out all right. What’s the matter with ’em?”
+
+“They’re — they’re — are you the watchman of the boat?”
+
+“Yes,” he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. “I’m the captain and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head deck-hand; and sometimes I’m the freight and passengers. I ain’t as rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can’t be so blame’ generous and good to Tom, Dick and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does; but I’ve told him a many a time ’t I wouldn’t trade places with him; for, says I, a sailor’s life’s the life for me, and I’m derned if I’d live two mile out o’ town, where there ain’t nothing ever goin’ on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I — ”
+
+I broke in and says:
+
+“They’re in an awful peck of trouble, and — ”
+
+“Who is?”
+
+“Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you’d take your ferry-boat and go up there — ”
+
+“Up where? Where are they?”
+
+“On the wreck.”
+
+“What wreck?”
+
+“Why, there ain’t but one.”
+
+“What, you don’t mean the Walter Scott?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Good land! what are they doin’ there, for gracious sakes?”
+
+“Well, they didn’t go there a-purpose.”
+
+“I bet they didn’t! Why, great goodness, there ain’t no chance for ’em if they don’t git off mighty quick! Why, how in the nation did they ever git into such a scrape?”
+
+“Easy enough. Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town — ”
+
+“Yes, Booth’s Landing — go on.”
+
+“She was a-visiting there at Booth’s Landing, and just in the edge of the evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horse-ferry to stay all night at her friend’s house, Miss What-you-may-call-her I disremember her name — and they lost their steering-oar, and swung around and went a-floating down, stern first, about two mile, and saddle-baggsed on the wreck, and the ferryman and the nigger woman and the horses was all lost, but Miss Hooker she made a grab and got aboard the wreck. Well, about an hour after dark we come along down in our trading-scow, and it was so dark we didn’t notice the wreck till we was right on it; and so we saddle-baggsed; but all of us was saved but Bill Whipple — and oh, he was the best cretur! — I most wish’t it had been me, I do.”
+
+“My George! It’s the beatenest thing I ever struck. And then what did you all do?”
+
+“Well, we hollered and took on, but it’s so wide there we couldn’t make nobody hear. So pap said somebody got to get ashore and get help somehow. I was the only one that could swim, so I made a dash for it, and Miss Hooker she said if I didn’t strike help sooner, come here and hunt up her uncle, and he’d fix the thing. I made the land about a mile below, and been fooling along ever since, trying to get people to do something, but they said, ‘What, in such a night and such a current? There ain’t no sense in it; go for the steam ferry.’ Now if you’ll go and — ”
+
+“By Jackson, I’d like to, and, blame it, I don’t know but I will; but who in the dingnation’s a-going’ to pay for it? Do you reckon your pap — ”
+
+“Why that’s all right. Miss Hooker she tole me, particular, that her uncle Hornback — ”
+
+“Great guns! is he her uncle? Looky here, you break for that light over yonder-way, and turn out west when you git there, and about a quarter of a mile out you’ll come to the tavern; tell ’em to dart you out to Jim Hornback’s, and he’ll foot the bill. And don’t you fool around any, because he’ll want to know the news. Tell him I’ll have his niece all safe before he can get to town. Hump yourself, now; I’m a-going up around the corner here to roust out my engineer.”
+
+I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in the easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among some woodboats; for I couldn’t rest easy till I could see the ferry-boat start. But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on accounts of taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would a done it. I wished the widow knowed about it. I judged she would be proud of me for helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and dead beats is the kind the widow and good people takes the most interest in.
+
+Well, before long, here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along down! A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for her. She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn’t much chance for anybody being alive in her. I pulled all around her and hollered a little, but there wasn’t any answer; all dead still. I felt a little bit heavy-hearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they could stand it, I could.
+
+Then here comes the ferry-boat; so I shoved for the middle of the river on a long down-stream slant; and when I judged I was out of eye-reach, I laid on my oars, and looked back and see her go and smell around the wreck for Miss Hooker’s remainders, because the captain would know her uncle Hornback would want them; and then pretty soon the ferry-boat give it up and went for the shore, and I laid into my work and went a-booming down the river.
+
+It did seem a powerful long time before Jim’s light showed up; and when it did show, it looked like it was a thousand mile off. By the time I got there the sky was beginning to get a little gray in the east; so we struck for an island, and hid the raft, and sunk the skiff, and turned in and slept like dead people.
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+By-and-by, when we got up, we turned over the truck the gang had stole off of the wreck, and found boots, and blankets, and clothes, and all sorts of other things, and a lot of books, and a spyglass, and three boxes of seegars. We hadn’t ever been this rich before in neither of our lives. The seegars was prime. We laid off all the afternoon in the woods talking, and me reading the books, and having a general good time. I told Jim all about what happened inside the wreck and at the ferry-boat, and I said these kinds of things was adventures; but he said he didn’t want no more adventures. He said that when I went in the texas and he crawled back to get on the raft and found her gone, he nearly died; because he judged it was all up with him, anyway it could be fixed; for if he didn’t get saved he would get drownded; and if he did get saved, whoever saved him would send him back home so as to get the reward, and then Miss Watson would sell him South, sure. Well, he was right; he was most always right; he had an uncommon level head, for a nigger.
+
+I read considerable to Jim about kings and dukes and earls and such, and how gaudy they dressed, and how much style they put on, and called each other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, ’stead of mister; and Jim’s eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He says:
+
+“I didn’ know dey was so many un um. I hain’t hearn ’bout none un um, skasely, but ole King Sollermun, onless you counts dem kings dat’s in a pack er k’yards. How much do a king git?”
+
+“Get?” I says; “why, they get a thousand dollars a month if they want it; they can have just as much as they want; everything belongs to them.”
+
+“Ain’ dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck?”
+
+“They don’t do nothing! Why, how you talk! They just set around.”
+
+“No; is dat so?”
+
+“Of course it is. They just set around — except, maybe, when there’s a war; then they go to the war. But other times they just lazy around; or go hawking — just hawking and sp — Sh! — d’ you hear a noise?”
+
+We skipped out and looked; but it warn’t nothing but the flutter of a steamboat’s wheel away down, coming around the point; so we come back.
+
+“Yes,” says I, “and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the parlyment; and if everybody don’t go just so he whacks their heads off. But mostly they hang round the harem.”
+
+“Roun’ de which?”
+
+“Harem.”
+
+“What’s de harem?”
+
+“The place where he keeps his wives. Don’t you know about the harem? Solomon had one; he had about a million wives.”
+
+“Why, yes, dat’s so; I — I’d done forgot it. A harem’s a bo’d’n-house, I reck’n. Mos’ likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reck’n de wives quarrels considable; en dat ’crease de racket. Yit dey say Sollermun de wises’ man dat ever live’. I doan’ take no stock in dat. Bekase why: would a wise man want to live in de mids’ er sich a blim-blammin’ all de time? No — ’deed he wouldn’t. A wise man ’ud take en buil’ a biler-factry; en den he could shet down de biler-factry when he want to res’.”
+
+“Well, but he was the wisest man, anyway; because the widow she told me so, her own self.”
+
+“I doan k’yer what de widder say, he warn’t no wise man nuther. He had some er de dad-fetchedes’ ways I ever see. Does you know ’bout dat chile dat he ’uz gwyne to chop in two?”
+
+“Yes, the widow told me all about it.”
+
+“Well, den! Warn’ dat de beatenes’ notion in de worl’? You jes’ take en look at it a minute. Dah’s de stump, dah — dat’s one er de women; heah’s you — dat’s de yuther one; I’s Sollermun; en dish yer dollar bill’s de chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun’ mongs’ de neighbors en fine out which un you de bill do b’long to, en han’ it over to de right one, all safe en soun’, de way dat anybody dat had any gumption would? No; I take en whack de bill in two, en give half un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat’s de way Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you: what’s de use er dat half a bill? — can’t buy noth’n wid it. En what use is a half a chile? I wouldn’ give a dern for a million un um.”
+
+“But hang it, Jim, you’ve clean missed the point — blame it, you’ve missed it a thousand mile.”
+
+“Who? Me? Go ’long. Doan’ talk to me ’bout yo’ pints. I reck’n I knows sense when I sees it; en dey ain’ no sense in sich doin’s as dat. De ’spute warn’t ’bout a half a chile, de ’spute was ’bout a whole chile; en de man dat think he kin settle a ’spute ’bout a whole chile wid a half a chile doan’ know enough to come in out’n de rain. Doan’ talk to me ’bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back.”
+
+“But I tell you you don’t get the point.”
+
+“Blame de point! I reck’n I knows what I knows. En mine you, de real pint is down furder — it’s down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was raised. You take a man dat’s got on’y one or two chillen; is dat man gwyne to be waseful o’ chillen? No, he ain’t; he can’t ’ford it. He know how to value ’em. But you take a man dat’s got ’bout five million chillen runnin’ roun’ de house, en it’s diffunt. He as soon chop a chile in two as a cat. Dey’s plenty mo’. A chile er two, mo’ er less, warn’t no consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him!”
+
+I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there warn’t no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of any nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kings, and let Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died there.
+
+“Po’ little chap.”
+
+“But some says he got out and got away, and come to America.”
+
+“Dat’s good! But he’ll be pooty lonesome — dey ain’ no kings here, is dey, Huck?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Den he cain’t git no situation. What he gwyne to do?”
+
+“Well, I don’t know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French.”
+
+“Why, Huck, doan’ de French people talk de same way we does?”
+
+“No, Jim; you couldn’t understand a word they said — not a single word.”
+
+“Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?”
+
+“I don’t know; but it’s so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. S’pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy — what would you think?”
+
+“I wouldn’ think nuff’n; I’d take en bust him over de head — dat is, if he warn’t white. I wouldn’t ’low no nigger to call me dat.”
+
+“Shucks, it ain’t calling you anything. It’s only saying, do you know how to talk French?”
+
+“Well, den, why couldn’t he say it?”
+
+“Why, he is a-saying it. That’s a Frenchman’s way of saying it.”
+
+“Well, it’s a blame ridicklous way, en I doan’ want to hear no mo’ ’bout it. Dey ain’ no sense in it.”
+
+“Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?”
+
+“No, a cat don’t.”
+
+“Well, does a cow?”
+
+“No, a cow don’t, nuther.”
+
+“Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?”
+
+“No, dey don’t.”
+
+“It’s natural and right for ’em to talk different from each other, ain’t it?”
+
+“’Course.”
+
+“And ain’t it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different from us?”
+
+“Why, mos’ sholy it is.”
+
+“Well, then, why ain’t it natural and right for a Frenchman to talk different from us? You answer me that.”
+
+“Is a cat a man, Huck?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, den, dey ain’t no sense in a cat talkin’ like a man. Is a cow a man? — er is a cow a cat?”
+
+“No, she ain’t either of them.”
+
+“Well, den, she ain’t got no business to talk like either one er the yuther of ’em. Is a Frenchman a man?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, den! Dad blame it, why doan’ he talk like a man? You answer me dat!”
+
+I see it warn’t no use wasting words — you can’t learn a nigger to argue. So I quit.
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+We judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was after. We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the Ohio amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble.
+
+Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a tow-head to tie to, for it wouldn’t do to try to run in a fog; but when I paddled ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn’t anything but little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around one of them right on the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current, and the raft come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and away she went. I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick and scared I couldn’t budge for most a half a minute it seemed to me — and then there warn’t no raft in sight; you couldn’t see twenty yards. I jumped into the canoe and run back to the stern, and grabbed the paddle and set her back a stroke. But she didn’t come. I was in such a hurry I hadn’t untied her. I got up and tried to untie her, but I was so excited my hands shook so I couldn’t hardly do anything with them.
+
+As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy, right down the tow-head. That was all right as far as it went, but the tow-head warn’t sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot of it I shot out into the solid white fog, and hadn’t no more idea which way I was going than a dead man.
+
+Thinks I, it won’t do to paddle; first I know I’ll run into the bank or a tow-head or something; I got to set still and float, and yet it’s mighty fidgety business to have to hold your hands still at such a time. I whooped and listened. Away down there somewheres I hears a small whoop, and up comes my spirits. I went tearing after it, listening sharp to hear it again. The next time it come, I see I warn’t heading for it, but heading away to the right of it. And the next time I was heading away to the left of it — and not gaining on it much either, for I was flying around, this way and that and t’other, but it was going straight ahead all the time.
+
+I did wish the fool would think to beat a tin pan, and beat it all the time, but he never did, and it was the still places between the whoops that was making the trouble for me. Well, I fought along, and directly I hears the whoop behind me. I was tangled good now. That was somebody else’s whoop, or else I was turned around.
+
+I throwed the paddle down. I heard the whoop again; it was behind me yet, but in a different place; it kept coming, and kept changing its place, and I kept answering, till by-and-by it was in front of me again, and I knowed the current had swung the canoe’s head down-stream, and I was all right if that was Jim and not some other raftsman hollering. I couldn’t tell nothing about voices in a fog, for nothing don’t look natural nor sound natural in a fog.
+
+The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come a-booming down on a cut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwed me off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairly roared, the currrent was tearing by them so swift.
+
+In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I set perfectly still then, listening to my heart thump, and I reckon I didn’t draw a breath while it thumped a hundred.
+
+I just give up then. I knowed what the matter was. That cut bank was an island, and Jim had gone down t’other side of it. It warn’t no tow-head that you could float by in ten minutes. It had the big timber of a regular island; it might be five or six miles long and more than half a mile wide.
+
+I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon. I was floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour; but you don’t ever think of that. No, you feel like you are laying dead still on the water; and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by you don’t think to yourself how fast you’re going, but you catch your breath and think, my! how that snag’s tearing along. If you think it ain’t dismal and lonesome out in a fog that way by yourself in the night, you try it once — you’ll see.
+
+Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then; at last I hears the answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn’t do it, and directly I judged I’d got into a nest of tow-heads, for I had little dim glimpses of them on both sides of me — sometimes just a narrow channel between, and some that I couldn’t see I knowed was there because I’d hear the wash of the current against the old dead brush and trash that hung over the banks. Well, I warn’t long loosing the whoops down amongst the tow-heads; and I only tried to chase them a little while, anyway, because it was worse than chasing a Jack-o’-lantern. You never knowed a sound dodge around so, and swap places so quick and so much.
+
+I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, to keep from knocking the islands out of the river; and so I judged the raft must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else it would get further ahead and clear out of hearing — it was floating a little faster than what I was.
+
+Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by-and-by, but I couldn’t hear no sign of a whoop nowheres. I reckoned Jim had fetched up on a snag, maybe, and it was all up with him. I was good and tired, so I laid down in the canoe and said I wouldn’t bother no more. I didn’t want to go to sleep, of course; but I was so sleepy I couldn’t help it; so I thought I would take jest one little cat-nap.
+
+But I reckon it was more than a cat-nap, for when I waked up the stars was shining bright, the fog was all gone, and I was spinning down a big bend stern first. First I didn’t know where I was; I thought I was dreaming; and when things began to come back to me they seemed to come up dim out of last week.
+
+It was a monstrous big river here, with the tallest and the thickest kind of timber on both banks; just a solid wall, as well as I could see by the stars. I looked away down-stream, and seen a black speck on the water. I took after it; but when I got to it it warn’t nothing but a couple of sawlogs made fast together. Then I see another speck, and chased that; then another, and this time I was right. It was the raft.
+
+When I got to it Jim was setting there with his head down between his knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering-oar. The other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and branches and dirt. So she’d had a rough time.
+
+I made fast and laid down under Jim’s nose on the raft, and began to gap, and stretch my fists out against Jim, and says:
+
+“Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn’t you stir me up?”
+
+“Goodness gracious, is dat you, Huck? En you ain’ dead — you ain’ drownded — you’s back agin? It’s too good for true, honey, it’s too good for true. Lemme look at you chile, lemme feel o’ you. No, you ain’ dead! you’s back agin, ’live en soun’, jis de same ole Huck — de same ole Huck, thanks to goodness!”
+
+“What’s the matter with you, Jim? You been a-drinking?”
+
+“Drinkin’? Has I ben a-drinkin’? Has I had a chance to be a-drinkin’?”
+
+“Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?”
+
+“How does I talk wild?”
+
+“How? Why, hain’t you been talking about my coming back, and all that stuff, as if I’d been gone away?”
+
+“Huck — Huck Finn, you look me in de eye; look me in de eye. Hain’t you ben gone away?”
+
+“Gone away? Why, what in the nation do you mean? I hain’t been gone anywheres. Where would I go to?”
+
+“Well, looky here, boss, dey’s sumf’n wrong, dey is. Is I me, or who is I? Is I heah, or whah is I? Now dat’s what I wants to know.”
+
+“Well, I think you’re here, plain enough, but I think you’re a tangle-headed old fool, Jim.”
+
+“I is, is I? Well, you answer me dis: Didn’t you tote out de line in de canoe fer to make fas’ to de tow-head?”
+
+“No, I didn’t. What tow-head? I hain’t see no tow-head.”
+
+“You hain’t seen no tow-head? Looky here, didn’t de line pull loose en de raf’ go a-hummin’ down de river, en leave you en de canoe behine in de fog?”
+
+“What fog?”
+
+“Why, de fog! — de fog dat’s been aroun’ all night. En didn’t you whoop, en didn’t I whoop, tell we got mix’ up in de islands en one un us got los’ en t’other one was jis’ as good as los’, ’kase he didn’ know whah he wuz? En didn’t I bust up agin a lot er dem islands en have a turrible time en mos’ git drownded? Now ain’ dat so, boss — ain’t it so? You answer me dat.”
+
+“Well, this is too many for me, Jim. I hain’t seen no fog, nor no islands, nor no troubles, nor nothing. I been setting here talking with you all night till you went to sleep about ten minutes ago, and I reckon I done the same. You couldn’t a got drunk in that time, so of course you’ve been dreaming.”
+
+“Dad fetch it, how is I gwyne to dream all dat in ten minutes?”
+
+“Well, hang it all, you did dream it, because there didn’t any of it happen.”
+
+“But, Huck, it’s all jis’ as plain to me as — ”
+
+“It don’t make no difference how plain it is; there ain’t nothing in it. I know, because I’ve been here all the time.”
+
+Jim didn’t say nothing for about five minutes, but set there studying over it. Then he says:
+
+“Well, den, I reck’n I did dream it, Huck; but dog my cats ef it ain’t de powerfullest dream I ever see. En I hain’t ever had no dream b’fo’ dat’s tired me like dis one.”
+
+“Oh, well, that’s all right, because a dream does tire a body like everything sometimes. But this one was a staving dream; tell me all about it, Jim.”
+
+So Jim went to work and told me the whole thing right through, just as it happened, only he painted it up considerable. Then he said he must start in and “’terpret” it, because it was sent for a warning. He said the first tow-head stood for a man that would try to do us some good, but the current was another man that would get us away from him. The whoops was warnings that would come to us every now and then, and if we didn’t try hard to make out to understand them they’d just take us into bad luck, ’stead of keeping us out of it. The lot of tow-heads was troubles we was going to get into with quarrelsome people and all kinds of mean folks, but if we minded our business and didn’t talk back and aggravate them, we would pull through and get out of the fog and into the big clear river, which was the free States, and wouldn’t have no more trouble.
+
+It had clouded up pretty dark just after I got on to the raft, but it was clearing up again now.
+
+“Oh, well, that’s all interpreted well enough as far as it goes, Jim,” I says; “but what does these things stand for?”
+
+It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. You could see them first-rate now.
+
+Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trash again. He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that he couldn’t seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its place again right away. But when he did get the thing straightened around he looked at me steady without ever smiling, and says:
+
+“What do dey stan’ for? I’se gwyne to tell you. When I got all wore out wid work, en wid de callin’ for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz mos’ broke bekase you wuz los’, en I didn’ k’yer no’ mo’ what become er me en de raf’. En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe en soun’, de tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo’ foot, I’s so thankful. En all you wuz thinkin’ ’bout wuz how you could make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is trash; en trash is what people is dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren’s en makes ’em ashamed.”
+
+Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without saying anything but that. But that was enough. It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed his foot to get him to take it back.
+
+It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn’t ever sorry for it afterwards, neither. I didn’t do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn’t done that one if I’d a knowed it would make him feel that way.
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+We slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession. She had four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty men, likely. She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open camp fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end. There was a power of style about her. It amounted to something being a raftsman on such a craft as that.
+
+We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up and got hot. The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber on both sides; you couldn’t see a break in it hardly ever, or a light. We talked about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we got to it. I said likely we wouldn’t, because I had heard say there warn’t but about a dozen houses there, and if they didn’t happen to have them lit up, how was we going to know we was passing a town? Jim said if the two big rivers joined together there, that would show. But I said maybe we might think we was passing the foot of an island and coming into the same old river again. That disturbed Jim — and me too. So the question was, what to do? I said, paddle ashore the first time a light showed, and tell them pap was behind, coming along with a trading-scow, and was a green hand at the business, and wanted to know how far it was to Cairo. Jim thought it was a good idea, so we took a smoke on it and waited.
+
+There warn’t nothing to do now but to look out sharp for the town, and not pass it without seeing it. He said he’d be mighty sure to see it, because he’d be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed it he’d be in a slave country again and no more show for freedom. Every little while he jumps up and says:
+
+“Dah she is?”
+
+But it warn’t. It was Jack-o’-lanterns, or lightning bugs; so he set down again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made him all over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I can tell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him, because I begun to get it through my head that he was most free — and who was to blame for it? Why, me. I couldn’t get that out of my conscience, no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldn’t rest; I couldn’t stay still in one place. It hadn’t ever come home to me before, what this thing was that I was doing. But now it did; and it stayed with me, and scorched me more and more. I tried to make out to myself that I warn’t to blame, because I didn’t run Jim off from his rightful owner; but it warn’t no use, conscience up and says, every time, “But you knowed he was running for his freedom, and you could a paddled ashore and told somebody.” That was so — I couldn’t get around that noway. That was where it pinched. Conscience says to me, “What had poor Miss Watson done to you that you could see her nigger go off right under your eyes and never say one single word? What did that poor old woman do to you that you could treat her so mean? Why, she tried to learn you your book, she tried to learn you your manners, she tried to be good to you every way she knowed how. That’s what she done.”
+
+I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dead. I fidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself, and Jim was fidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still. Every time he danced around and says, “Dah’s Cairo!” it went through me like a shot, and I thought if it was Cairo I reckoned I would die of miserableness.
+
+Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He was saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free State he would go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when he got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to where Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy the two children, and if their master wouldn’t sell them, they’d get an Ab’litionist to go and steal them.
+
+It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldn’t ever dared to talk such talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made in him the minute he judged he was about free. It was according to the old saying, “Give a nigger an inch and he’ll take an ell.” Thinks I, this is what comes of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which I had as good as helped to run away, coming right out flat-footed and saying he would steal his children — children that belonged to a man I didn’t even know; a man that hadn’t ever done me no harm.
+
+I was sorry to hear Jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. My conscience got to stirring me up hotter than ever, until at last I says to it, “Let up on me — it ain’t too late yet — I’ll paddle ashore at the first light and tell.” I felt easy and happy and light as a feather right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking out sharp for a light, and sort of singing to myself. By-and-by one showed. Jim sings out:
+
+“We’s safe, Huck, we’s safe! Jump up and crack yo’ heels! Dat’s de good ole Cairo at las’, I jis knows it!”
+
+I says:
+
+“I’ll take the canoe and go and see, Jim. It mightn’t be, you know.”
+
+He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottom for me to set on, and give me the paddle; and as I shoved off, he says:
+
+“Pooty soon I’ll be a-shout’n’ for joy, en I’ll say, it’s all on accounts o’ Huck; I’s a free man, en I couldn’t ever ben free ef it hadn’ ben for Huck; Huck done it. Jim won’t ever forgit you, Huck; you’s de bes’ fren’ Jim’s ever had; en you’s de only fren’ ole Jim’s got now.”
+
+I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him; but when he says this, it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went along slow then, and I warn’t right down certain whether I was glad I started or whether I warn’t. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says:
+
+“Dah you goes, de ole true Huck; de on’y white genlman dat ever kep’ his promise to ole Jim.”
+
+Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I got to do it — I can’t get out of it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it with guns, and they stopped and I stopped. One of them says:
+
+“What’s that yonder?”
+
+“A piece of a raft,” I says.
+
+“Do you belong on it?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Any men on it?”
+
+“Only one, sir.”
+
+“Well, there’s five niggers run off to-night up yonder, above the head of the bend. Is your man white or black?”
+
+I didn’t answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn’t come. I tried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn’t man enough — hadn’t the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening; so I just give up trying, and up and says:
+
+“He’s white.”
+
+“I reckon we’ll go and see for ourselves.”
+
+“I wish you would,” says I, “because it’s pap that’s there, and maybe you’d help me tow the raft ashore where the light is. He’s sick — and so is mam and Mary Ann.”
+
+“Oh, the devil! we’re in a hurry, boy. But I s’pose we’ve got to. Come, buckle to your paddle, and let’s get along.”
+
+I buckled to my paddle and they laid to their oars. When we had made a stroke or two, I says:
+
+“Pap’ll be mighty much obleeged to you, I can tell you. Everybody goes away when I want them to help me tow the raft ashore, and I can’t do it by myself.”
+
+“Well, that’s infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what’s the matter with your father?”
+
+“It’s the — a — the — well, it ain’t anything much.”
+
+They stopped pulling. It warn’t but a mighty little ways to the raft now. One says:
+
+“Boy, that’s a lie. What is the matter with your pap? Answer up square now, and it’ll be the better for you.”
+
+“I will, sir, I will, honest — but don’t leave us, please. It’s the — the — gentlemen, if you’ll only pull ahead, and let me heave you the headline, you won’t have to come a-near the raft — please do.”
+
+“Set her back, John, set her back!” says one. They backed water. “Keep away, boy — keep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind has blowed it to us. Your pap’s got the small-pox, and you know it precious well. Why didn’t you come out and say so? Do you want to spread it all over?”
+
+“Well,” says I, a-blubbering, “I’ve told everybody before, and they just went away and left us.”
+
+“Poor devil, there’s something in that. We are right down sorry for you, but we — well, hang it, we don’t want the small-pox, you see. Look here, I’ll tell you what to do. Don’t you try to land by yourself, or you’ll smash everything to pieces. You float along down about twenty miles, and you’ll come to a town on the left-hand side of the river. It will be long after sun-up then, and when you ask for help you tell them your folks are all down with chills and fever. Don’t be a fool again, and let people guess what is the matter. Now we’re trying to do you a kindness; so you just put twenty miles between us, that’s a good boy. It wouldn’t do any good to land yonder where the light is — it’s only a wood-yard. Say, I reckon your father’s poor, and I’m bound to say he’s in pretty hard luck. Here, I’ll put a twenty-dollar gold piece on this board, and you get it when it floats by. I feel mighty mean to leave you; but my kingdom! it won’t do to fool with small-pox, don’t you see?”
+
+“Hold on, Parker,” says the other man, “here’s a twenty to put on the board for me. Good-bye, boy; you do as Mr. Parker told you, and you’ll be all right.”
+
+“That’s so, my boy — good-bye, good-bye. If you see any runaway niggers you get help and nab them, and you can make some money by it.”
+
+“Good-bye, sir,” says I; “I won’t let no runaway niggers get by me if I can help it.”
+
+They went off and I got aboard the raft, feeling bad and low, because I knowed very well I had done wrong, and I see it warn’t no use for me to try to learn to do right; a body that don’t get started right when he’s little ain’t got no show — when the pinch comes there ain’t nothing to back him up and keep him to his work, and so he gets beat. Then I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on; s’pose you’d a done right and give Jim up, would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, I’d feel bad — I’d feel just the same way I do now. Well, then, says I, what’s the use you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right and ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? I was stuck. I couldn’t answer that. So I reckoned I wouldn’t bother no more about it, but after this always do whichever come handiest at the time.
+
+I went into the wigwam; Jim warn’t there. I looked all around; he warn’t anywhere. I says:
+
+“Jim!”
+
+“Here I is, Huck. Is dey out o’ sight yit? Don’t talk loud.”
+
+He was in the river under the stern oar, with just his nose out. I told him they were out of sight, so he come aboard. He says:
+
+“I was a-listenin’ to all de talk, en I slips into de river en was gwyne to shove for sho’ if dey come aboard. Den I was gwyne to swim to de raf’ agin when dey was gone. But lawsy, how you did fool ’em, Huck! Dat wuz de smartes’ dodge! I tell you, chile, I ’speck it save’ ole Jim — ole Jim ain’t going to forgit you for dat, honey.”
+
+Then we talked about the money. It was a pretty good raise — twenty dollars apiece. Jim said we could take deck passage on a steamboat now, and the money would last us as far as we wanted to go in the free States. He said twenty mile more warn’t far for the raft to go, but he wished we was already there.
+
+Towards daybreak we tied up, and Jim was mighty particular about hiding the raft good. Then he worked all day fixing things in bundles, and getting all ready to quit rafting.
+
+That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down in a left-hand bend.
+
+I went off in the canoe to ask about it. Pretty soon I found a man out in the river with a skiff, setting a trot-line. I ranged up and says:
+
+“Mister, is that town Cairo?”
+
+“Cairo? no. You must be a blame’ fool.”
+
+“What town is it, mister?”
+
+“If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin’ around me for about a half a minute longer you’ll get something you won’t want.”
+
+I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never mind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned.
+
+We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again; but it was high ground, so I didn’t go. No high ground about Cairo, Jim said. I had forgot it. We laid up for the day on a tow-head tolerable close to the left-hand bank. I begun to suspicion something. So did Jim. I says:
+
+“Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night.”
+
+He says:
+
+“Doan’ le’s talk about it, Huck. Po’ niggers can’t have no luck. I awluz ’spected dat rattlesnake-skin warn’t done wid its work.”
+
+“I wish I’d never seen that snake-skin, Jim — I do wish I’d never laid eyes on it.”
+
+“It ain’t yo’ fault, Huck; you didn’ know. Don’t you blame yo’self ’bout it.”
+
+When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure enough, and outside was the old regular Muddy! So it was all up with Cairo.
+
+We talked it all over. It wouldn’t do to take to the shore; we couldn’t take the raft up the stream, of course. There warn’t no way but to wait for dark, and start back in the canoe and take the chances. So we slept all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as to be fresh for the work, and when we went back to the raft about dark the canoe was gone!
+
+We didn’t say a word for a good while. There warn’t anything to say. We both knowed well enough it was some more work of the rattlesnake-skin; so what was the use to talk about it? It would only look like we was finding fault, and that would be bound to fetch more bad luck — and keep on fetching it, too, till we knowed enough to keep still.
+
+By-and-by we talked about what we better do, and found there warn’t no way but just to go along down with the raft till we got a chance to buy a canoe to go back in. We warn’t going to borrow it when there warn’t anybody around, the way pap would do, for that might set people after us.
+
+So we shoved out after dark on the raft.
+
+Anybody that don’t believe yet that it’s foolishness to handle a snake-skin, after all that that snake-skin done for us, will believe it now if they read on and see what more it done for us.
+
+The place to buy canoes is off of rafts laying up at shore. But we didn’t see no rafts laying up; so we went along during three hours and more. Well, the night got gray and ruther thick, which is the next meanest thing to fog. You can’t tell the shape of the river, and you can’t see no distance. It got to be very late and still, and then along comes a steamboat up the river. We lit the lantern, and judged she would see it. Up-stream boats didn’t generly come close to us; they go out and follow the bars and hunt for easy water under the reefs; but nights like this they bull right up the channel against the whole river.
+
+We could hear her pounding along, but we didn’t see her good till she was close. She aimed right for us. Often they do that and try to see how close they can come without touching; sometimes the wheel bites off a sweep, and then the pilot sticks his head out and laughs, and thinks he’s mighty smart. Well, here she comes, and we said she was going to try and shave us; but she didn’t seem to be sheering off a bit. She was a big one, and she was coming in a hurry, too, looking like a black cloud with rows of glow-worms around it; but all of a sudden she bulged out, big and scary, with a long row of wide-open furnace doors shining like red-hot teeth, and her monstrous bows and guards hanging right over us. There was a yell at us, and a jingling of bells to stop the engines, a powwow of cussing, and whistling of steam — and as Jim went overboard on one side and I on the other, she come smashing straight through the raft.
+
+I dived — and I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirty-foot wheel had got to go over me, and I wanted it to have plenty of room. I could always stay under water a minute; this time I reckon I stayed under a minute and a half. Then I bounced for the top in a hurry, for I was nearly busting. I popped out to my armpits and blowed the water out of my nose, and puffed a bit. Of course there was a booming current; and of course that boat started her engines again ten seconds after she stopped them, for they never cared much for raftsmen; so now she was churning along up the river, out of sight in the thick weather, though I could hear her.
+
+I sung out for Jim about a dozen times, but I didn’t get any answer; so I grabbed a plank that touched me while I was “treading water,” and struck out for shore, shoving it ahead of me. But I made out to see that the drift of the current was towards the left-hand shore, which meant that I was in a crossing; so I changed off and went that way.
+
+It was one of these long, slanting, two-mile crossings; so I was a good long time in getting over. I made a safe landing, and clumb up the bank. I couldn’t see but a little ways, but I went poking along over rough ground for a quarter of a mile or more, and then I run across a big old-fashioned double log-house before I noticed it. I was going to rush by and get away, but a lot of dogs jumped out and went to howling and barking at me, and I knowed better than to move another peg.
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+In about a minute somebody spoke out of a window without putting his head out, and says:
+
+“Be done, boys! Who’s there?”
+
+I says:
+
+“It’s me.”
+
+“Who’s me?”
+
+“George Jackson, sir.”
+
+“What do you want?”
+
+“I don’t want nothing, sir. I only want to go along by, but the dogs won’t let me.”
+
+“What are you prowling around here this time of night for — hey?”
+
+“I warn’t prowling around, sir, I fell overboard off of the steamboat.”
+
+“Oh, you did, did you? Strike a light there, somebody. What did you say your name was?”
+
+“George Jackson, sir. I’m only a boy.”
+
+“Look here, if you’re telling the truth you needn’t be afraid — nobody’ll hurt you. But don’t try to budge; stand right where you are. Rouse out Bob and Tom, some of you, and fetch the guns. George Jackson, is there anybody with you?”
+
+“No, sir, nobody.”
+
+I heard the people stirring around in the house now, and see a light. The man sung out:
+
+“Snatch that light away, Betsy, you old fool — ain’t you got any sense? Put it on the floor behind the front door. Bob, if you and Tom are ready, take your places.”
+
+“All ready.”
+
+“Now, George Jackson, do you know the Shepherdsons?”
+
+“No, sir; I never heard of them.”
+
+“Well, that may be so, and it mayn’t. Now, all ready. Step forward, George Jackson. And mind, don’t you hurry — come mighty slow. If there’s anybody with you, let him keep back — if he shows himself he’ll be shot. Come along now. Come slow; push the door open yourself — just enough to squeeze in, d’ you hear?”
+
+I didn’t hurry; I couldn’t if I’d a wanted to. I took one slow step at a time and there warn’t a sound, only I thought I could hear my heart. The dogs were as still as the humans, but they followed a little behind me. When I got to the three log doorsteps I heard them unlocking and unbarring and unbolting. I put my hand on the door and pushed it a little and a little more till somebody said, “There, that’s enough — put your head in.” I done it, but I judged they would take it off.
+
+The candle was on the floor, and there they all was, looking at me, and me at them, for about a quarter of a minute: Three big men with guns pointed at me, which made me wince, I tell you; the oldest, gray and about sixty, the other two thirty or more — all of them fine and handsome — and the sweetest old gray-headed lady, and back of her two young women which I couldn’t see right well. The old gentleman says:
+
+“There; I reckon it’s all right. Come in.”
+
+As soon as I was in the old gentleman he locked the door and barred it and bolted it, and told the young men to come in with their guns, and they all went in a big parlor that had a new rag carpet on the floor, and got together in a corner that was out of the range of the front windows — there warn’t none on the side. They held the candle, and took a good look at me, and all said, “Why, he ain’t a Shepherdson — no, there ain’t any Shepherdson about him.” Then the old man said he hoped I wouldn’t mind being searched for arms, because he didn’t mean no harm by it — it was only to make sure. So he didn’t pry into my pockets, but only felt outside with his hands, and said it was all right. He told me to make myself easy and at home, and tell all about myself; but the old lady says:
+
+“Why, bless you, Saul, the poor thing’s as wet as he can be; and don’t you reckon it may be he’s hungry?”
+
+“True for you, Rachel — I forgot.”
+
+So the old lady says:
+
+“Betsy” (this was a nigger woman), “you fly around and get him something to eat as quick as you can, poor thing; and one of you girls go and wake up Buck and tell him — oh, here he is himself. Buck, take this little stranger and get the wet clothes off from him and dress him up in some of yours that’s dry.”
+
+Buck looked about as old as me — thirteen or fourteen or along there, though he was a little bigger than me. He hadn’t on anything but a shirt, and he was very frowzy-headed. He came in gaping and digging one fist into his eyes, and he was dragging a gun along with the other one. He says:
+
+“Ain’t they no Shepherdsons around?”
+
+They said, no, ’twas a false alarm.
+
+“Well,” he says, “if they’d a ben some, I reckon I’d a got one.”
+
+They all laughed, and Bob says:
+
+“Why, Buck, they might have scalped us all, you’ve been so slow in coming.”
+
+“Well, nobody come after me, and it ain’t right I’m always kept down; I don’t get no show.”
+
+“Never mind, Buck, my boy,” says the old man, “you’ll have show enough, all in good time, don’t you fret about that. Go ’long with you now, and do as your mother told you.”
+
+When we got up-stairs to his room he got me a coarse shirt and a roundabout and pants of his, and I put them on. While I was at it he asked me what my name was, but before I could tell him he started to tell me about a bluejay and a young rabbit he had catched in the woods day before yesterday, and he asked me where Moses was when the candle went out. I said I didn’t know; I hadn’t heard about it before, no way.
+
+“Well, guess,” he says.
+
+“How’m I going to guess,” says I, “when I never heard tell of it before?”
+
+“But you can guess, can’t you? It’s just as easy.”
+
+“Which candle?” I says.
+
+“Why, any candle,” he says.
+
+“I don’t know where he was,” says I; “where was he?”
+
+“Why, he was in the dark! That’s where he was!”
+
+“Well, if you knowed where he was, what did you ask me for?”
+
+“Why, blame it, it’s a riddle, don’t you see? Say, how long are you going to stay here? You got to stay always. We can just have booming times — they don’t have no school now. Do you own a dog? I’ve got a dog — and he’ll go in the river and bring out chips that you throw in. Do you like to comb up Sundays, and all that kind of foolishness? You bet I don’t, but ma she makes me. Confound these ole britches! I reckon I’d better put ’em on, but I’d ruther not, it’s so warm. Are you all ready? All right. Come along, old hoss.”
+
+Cold corn-pone, cold corn-beef, butter and buttermilk — that is what they had for me down there, and there ain’t nothing better that ever I’ve come across yet. Buck and his ma and all of them smoked cob pipes, except the nigger woman, which was gone, and the two young women. They all smoked and talked, and I eat and talked. The young women had quilts around them, and their hair down their backs. They all asked me questions, and I told them how pap and me and all the family was living on a little farm down at the bottom of Arkansaw, and my sister Mary Ann run off and got married and never was heard of no more, and Bill went to hunt them and he warn’t heard of no more, and Tom and Mort died, and then there warn’t nobody but just me and pap left, and he was just trimmed down to nothing, on account of his troubles; so when he died I took what there was left, because the farm didn’t belong to us, and started up the river, deck passage, and fell overboard; and that was how I come to be here. So they said I could have a home there as long as I wanted it. Then it was most daylight and everybody went to bed, and I went to bed with Buck, and when I waked up in the morning, drat it all, I had forgot what my name was. So I laid there about an hour trying to think, and when Buck waked up I says:
+
+“Can you spell, Buck?”
+
+“Yes,” he says.
+
+“I bet you can’t spell my name,” says I.
+
+“I bet you what you dare I can,” says he.
+
+“All right,” says I, “go ahead.”
+
+“G-e-o-r-g-e J-a-x-o-n — there now,” he says.
+
+“Well,” says I, “you done it, but I didn’t think you could. It ain’t no slouch of a name to spell — right off without studying.”
+
+I set it down, private, because somebody might want me to spell it next, and so I wanted to be handy with it and rattle it off like I was used to it.
+
+It was a mighty nice family, and a mighty nice house, too. I hadn’t seen no house out in the country before that was so nice and had so much style. It didn’t have an iron latch on the front door, nor a wooden one with a buckskin string, but a brass knob to turn, the same as houses in town. There warn’t no bed in the parlor, nor a sign of a bed; but heaps of parlors in towns has beds in them. There was a big fireplace that was bricked on the bottom, and the bricks was kept clean and red by pouring water on them and scrubbing them with another brick; sometimes they wash them over with red water-paint that they call Spanish-brown, same as they do in town. They had big brass dog-irons that could hold up a saw-log. There was a clock on the middle of the mantelpiece, with a picture of a town painted on the bottom half of the glass front, and a round place in the middle of it for the sun, and you could see the pendulum swinging behind it. It was beautiful to hear that clock tick; and sometimes when one of these peddlers had been along and scoured her up and got her in good shape, she would start in and strike a hundred and fifty before she got tuckered out. They wouldn’t took any money for her.
+
+Well, there was a big outlandish parrot on each side of the clock, made out of something like chalk, and painted up gaudy. By one of the parrots was a cat made of crockery, and a crockery dog by the other; and when you pressed down on them they squeaked, but didn’t open their mouths nor look different nor interested. They squeaked through underneath. There was a couple of big wild-turkey-wing fans spread out behind those things. On the table in the middle of the room was a kind of a lovely crockery basket that had apples and oranges and peaches and grapes piled up in it, which was much redder and yellower and prettier than real ones is, but they warn’t real because you could see where pieces had got chipped off and showed the white chalk, or whatever it was, underneath.
+
+This table had a cover made out of beautiful oilcloth, with a red and blue spread-eagle painted on it, and a painted border all around. It come all the way from Philadelphia, they said. There was some books, too, piled up perfectly exact, on each corner of the table. One was a big family Bible full of pictures. One was Pilgrim’s Progress, about a man that left his family, it didn’t say why. I read considerable in it now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough. Another was Friendship’s Offering, full of beautiful stuff and poetry; but I didn’t read the poetry. Another was Henry Clay’s Speeches, and another was Dr. Gunn’s Family Medicine, which told you all about what to do if a body was sick or dead. There was a hymn book, and a lot of other books. And there was nice split-bottom chairs, and perfectly sound, too — not bagged down in the middle and busted, like an old basket.
+
+They had pictures hung on the walls — mainly Washingtons and Lafayettes, and battles, and Highland Marys, and one called “Signing the Declaration.” There was some that they called crayons, which one of the daughters which was dead made her own self when she was only fifteen years old. They was different from any pictures I ever see before — blacker, mostly, than is common. One was a woman in a slim black dress, belted small under the armpits, with bulges like a cabbage in the middle of the sleeves, and a large black scoop-shovel bonnet with a black veil, and white slim ankles crossed about with black tape, and very wee black slippers, like a chisel, and she was leaning pensive on a tombstone on her right elbow, under a weeping willow, and her other hand hanging down her side holding a white handkerchief and a reticule, and underneath the picture it said “Shall I Never See Thee More Alas.” Another one was a young lady with her hair all combed up straight to the top of her head, and knotted there in front of a comb like a chair-back, and she was crying into a handkerchief and had a dead bird laying on its back in her other hand with its heels up, and underneath the picture it said “I Shall Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas.” There was one where a young lady was at a window looking up at the moon, and tears running down her cheeks; and she had an open letter in one hand with black sealing wax showing on one edge of it, and she was mashing a locket with a chain to it against her mouth, and underneath the picture it said “And Art Thou Gone Yes Thou Art Gone Alas.” These was all nice pictures, I reckon, but I didn’t somehow seem to take to them, because if ever I was down a little they always give me the fan-tods. Everybody was sorry she died, because she had laid out a lot more of these pictures to do, and a body could see by what she had done what they had lost. But I reckoned that with her disposition she was having a better time in the graveyard. She was at work on what they said was her greatest picture when she took sick, and every day and every night it was her prayer to be allowed to live till she got it done, but she never got the chance. It was a picture of a young woman in a long white gown, standing on the rail of a bridge all ready to jump off, with her hair all down her back, and looking up to the moon, with the tears running down her face, and she had two arms folded across her breast, and two arms stretched out in front, and two more reaching up towards the moon — and the idea was to see which pair would look best, and then scratch out all the other arms; but, as I was saying, she died before she got her mind made up, and now they kept this picture over the head of the bed in her room, and every time her birthday come they hung flowers on it. Other times it was hid with a little curtain. The young woman in the picture had a kind of a nice sweet face, but there was so many arms it made her look too spidery, seemed to me.
+
+This young girl kept a scrap-book when she was alive, and used to paste obituaries and accidents and cases of patient suffering in it out of the Presbyterian Observer, and write poetry after them out of her own head. It was very good poetry. This is what she wrote about a boy by the name of Stephen Dowling Bots that fell down a well and was drownded:
+
+ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS, DEC’D
+
+And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die? And did the sad hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry?
+
+No; such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots; Though sad hearts round him thickened, ’Twas not from sickness’ shots.
+
+No whooping-cough did rack his frame, Nor measles drear with spots; Not these impaired the sacred name Of Stephen Dowling Bots.
+
+Despised love struck not with woe That head of curly knots, Nor stomach troubles laid him low, Young Stephen Dowling Bots.
+
+O no. Then list with tearful eye, Whilst I his fate do tell. His soul did from this cold world fly By falling down a well.
+
+They got him out and emptied him; Alas it was too late; His spirit was gone for to sport aloft In the realms of the good and great.
+
+If Emmeline Grangerford could make poetry like that before she was fourteen, there ain’t no telling what she could a done by-and-by. Buck said she could rattle off poetry like nothing. She didn’t ever have to stop to think. He said she would slap down a line, and if she couldn’t find anything to rhyme with it would just scratch it out and slap down another one, and go ahead. She warn’t particular; she could write about anything you choose to give her to write about just so it was sadful. Every time a man died, or a woman died, or a child died, she would be on hand with her “tribute” before he was cold. She called them tributes. The neighbors said it was the doctor first, then Emmeline, then the undertaker — the undertaker never got in ahead of Emmeline but once, and then she hung fire on a rhyme for the dead person’s name, which was Whistler. She warn’t ever the same after that; she never complained, but she kinder pined away and did not live long. Poor thing, many’s the time I made myself go up to the little room that used to be hers and get out her poor old scrap-book and read in it when her pictures had been aggravating me and I had soured on her a little. I liked all that family, dead ones and all, and warn’t going to let anything come between us. Poor Emmeline made poetry about all the dead people when she was alive, and it didn’t seem right that there warn’t nobody to make some about her now she was gone; so I tried to sweat out a verse or two myself, but I couldn’t seem to make it go somehow. They kept Emmeline’s room trim and nice, and all the things fixed in it just the way she liked to have them when she was alive, and nobody ever slept there. The old lady took care of the room herself, though there was plenty of niggers, and she sewed there a good deal and read her Bible there mostly.
+
+Well, as I was saying about the parlor, there was beautiful curtains on the windows: white, with pictures painted on them of castles with vines all down the walls, and cattle coming down to drink. There was a little old piano, too, that had tin pans in it, I reckon, and nothing was ever so lovely as to hear the young ladies sing “The Last Link is Broken” and play “The Battle of Prague” on it. The walls of all the rooms was plastered, and most had carpets on the floors, and the whole house was whitewashed on the outside.
+
+It was a double house, and the big open place betwixt them was roofed and floored, and sometimes the table was set there in the middle of the day, and it was a cool, comfortable place. Nothing couldn’t be better. And warn’t the cooking good, and just bushels of it too!
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+Col. Grangerford was a gentleman, you see. He was a gentleman all over; and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and that’s worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town; and pap he always said it, too, though he warn’t no more quality than a mudcat himself. Col. Grangerford was very tall and very slim, and had a darkish-paly complexion, not a sign of red in it anywheres; he was clean shaved every morning all over his thin face, and he had the thinnest kind of lips, and the thinnest kind of nostrils, and a high nose, and heavy eyebrows, and the blackest kind of eyes, sunk so deep back that they seemed like they was looking out of caverns at you, as you may say. His forehead was high, and his hair was black and straight and hung to his shoulders. His hands was long and thin, and every day of his life he put on a clean shirt and a full suit from head to foot made out of linen so white it hurt your eyes to look at it; and on Sundays he wore a blue tail-coat with brass buttons on it. He carried a mahogany cane with a silver head to it. There warn’t no frivolishness about him, not a bit, and he warn’t ever loud. He was as kind as he could be — you could feel that, you know, and so you had confidence. Sometimes he smiled, and it was good to see; but when he straightened himself up like a liberty-pole, and the lightning begun to flicker out from under his eyebrows, you wanted to climb a tree first, and find out what the matter was afterwards. He didn’t ever have to tell anybody to mind their manners — everybody was always good-mannered where he was. Everybody loved to have him around, too; he was sunshine most always — I mean he made it seem like good weather. When he turned into a cloudbank it was awful dark for half a minute, and that was enough; there wouldn’t nothing go wrong again for a week.
+
+When him and the old lady come down in the morning all the family got up out of their chairs and give them good-day, and didn’t set down again till they had set down. Then Tom and Bob went to the sideboard where the decanter was, and mixed a glass of bitters and handed it to him, and he held it in his hand and waited till Tom’s and Bob’s was mixed, and then they bowed and said, “Our duty to you, sir, and madam;” and they bowed the least bit in the world and said thank you, and so they drank, all three, and Bob and Tom poured a spoonful of water on the sugar and the mite of whisky or apple brandy in the bottom of their tumblers, and give it to me and Buck, and we drank to the old people too.
+
+Bob was the oldest and Tom next — tall, beautiful men with very broad shoulders and brown faces, and long black hair and black eyes. They dressed in white linen from head to foot, like the old gentleman, and wore broad Panama hats.
+
+Then there was Miss Charlotte; she was twenty-five, and tall and proud and grand, but as good as she could be when she warn’t stirred up; but when she was, she had a look that would make you wilt in your tracks, like her father. She was beautiful.
+
+So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind. She was gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was only twenty.
+
+Each person had their own nigger to wait on them — Buck too. My nigger had a monstrous easy time, because I warn’t used to having anybody do anything for me, but Buck’s was on the jump most of the time.
+
+This was all there was of the family now, but there used to be more — three sons; they got killed; and Emmeline that died.
+
+The old gentleman owned a lot of farms and over a hundred niggers. Sometimes a stack of people would come there, horseback, from ten or fifteen mile around, and stay five or six days, and have such junketings round about and on the river, and dances and picnics in the woods daytimes, and balls at the house nights. These people was mostly kinfolks of the family. The men brought their guns with them. It was a handsome lot of quality, I tell you.
+
+There was another clan of aristocracy around there — five or six families — mostly of the name of Shepherdson. They was as high-toned and well born and rich and grand as the tribe of Grangerfords. The Shepherdsons and Grangerfords used the same steamboat landing, which was about two mile above our house; so sometimes when I went up there with a lot of our folks I used to see a lot of the Shepherdsons there on their fine horses.
+
+One day Buck and me was away out in the woods hunting, and heard a horse coming. We was crossing the road. Buck says:
+
+“Quick! Jump for the woods!”
+
+We done it, and then peeped down the woods through the leaves. Pretty soon a splendid young man come galloping down the road, setting his horse easy and looking like a soldier. He had his gun across his pommel. I had seen him before. It was young Harney Shepherdson. I heard Buck’s gun go off at my ear, and Harney’s hat tumbled off from his head. He grabbed his gun and rode straight to the place where we was hid. But we didn’t wait. We started through the woods on a run. The woods warn’t thick, so I looked over my shoulder to dodge the bullet, and twice I seen Harney cover Buck with his gun; and then he rode away the way he come — to get his hat, I reckon, but I couldn’t see. We never stopped running till we got home. The old gentleman’s eyes blazed a minute — ’twas pleasure, mainly, I judged — then his face sort of smoothed down, and he says, kind of gentle:
+
+“I don’t like that shooting from behind a bush. Why didn’t you step into the road, my boy?”
+
+“The Shepherdsons don’t, father. They always take advantage.”
+
+Miss Charlotte she held her head up like a queen while Buck was telling his tale, and her nostrils spread and her eyes snapped. The two young men looked dark, but never said nothing. Miss Sophia she turned pale, but the color come back when she found the man warn’t hurt.
+
+Soon as I could get Buck down by the corn-cribs under the trees by ourselves, I says:
+
+“Did you want to kill him, Buck?”
+
+“Well, I bet I did.”
+
+“What did he do to you?”
+
+“Him? He never done nothing to me.”
+
+“Well, then, what did you want to kill him for?”
+
+“Why, nothing — only it’s on account of the feud.”
+
+“What’s a feud?”
+
+“Why, where was you raised? Don’t you know what a feud is?”
+
+“Never heard of it before — tell me about it.”
+
+“Well,” says Buck, “a feud is this way. A man has a quarrel with another man, and kills him; then that other man’s brother kills him; then the other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another; then the cousins chip in — and by-and-by everybody’s killed off, and there ain’t no more feud. But it’s kind of slow, and takes a long time.”
+
+“Has this one been going on long, Buck?”
+
+“Well, I should reckon! It started thirty year ago, or som’ers along there. There was trouble ’bout something, and then a lawsuit to settle it; and the suit went agin one of the men, and so he up and shot the man that won the suit — which he would naturally do, of course. Anybody would.”
+
+“What was the trouble about, Buck? — land?”
+
+“I reckon maybe — I don’t know.”
+
+“Well, who done the shooting? Was it a Grangerford or a Shepherdson?”
+
+“Laws, how do I know? It was so long ago.”
+
+“Don’t anybody know?”
+
+“Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people; but they don’t know now what the row was about in the first place.”
+
+“Has there been many killed, Buck?”
+
+“Yes; right smart chance of funerals. But they don’t always kill. Pa’s got a few buckshot in him; but he don’t mind it ’cuz he don’t weigh much, anyway. Bob’s been carved up some with a bowie, and Tom’s been hurt once or twice.”
+
+“Has anybody been killed this year, Buck?”
+
+“Yes; we got one and they got one. ’Bout three months ago my cousin Bud, fourteen year old, was riding through the woods on t’other side of the river, and didn’t have no weapon with him, which was blame’ foolishness, and in a lonesome place he hears a horse a-coming behind him, and sees old Baldy Shepherdson a-linkin’ after him with his gun in his hand and his white hair a-flying in the wind; and ’stead of jumping off and taking to the brush, Bud ’lowed he could out-run him; so they had it, nip and tuck, for five mile or more, the old man a-gaining all the time; so at last Bud seen it warn’t any use, so he stopped and faced around so as to have the bullet holes in front, you know, and the old man he rode up and shot him down. But he didn’t git much chance to enjoy his luck, for inside of a week our folks laid him out.”
+
+“I reckon that old man was a coward, Buck.”
+
+“I reckon he warn’t a coward. Not by a blame’ sight. There ain’t a coward amongst them Shepherdsons — not a one. And there ain’t no cowards amongst the Grangerfords either. Why, that old man kep’ up his end in a fight one day for half an hour against three Grangerfords, and come out winner. They was all a-horseback; he lit off of his horse and got behind a little woodpile, and kep’ his horse before him to stop the bullets; but the Grangerfords stayed on their horses and capered around the old man, and peppered away at him, and he peppered away at them. Him and his horse both went home pretty leaky and crippled, but the Grangerfords had to be fetched home — and one of ’em was dead, and another died the next day. No, sir; if a body’s out hunting for cowards he don’t want to fool away any time amongst them Shepherdsons, becuz they don’t breed any of that kind.”
+
+Next Sunday we all went to church, about three mile, everybody a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall. The Shepherdsons done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching — all about brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a powerful lot to say about faith and good works and free grace and preforeordestination, and I don’t know what all, that it did seem to me to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet.
+
+About an hour after dinner everybody was dozing around, some in their chairs and some in their rooms, and it got to be pretty dull. Buck and a dog was stretched out on the grass in the sun sound asleep. I went up to our room, and judged I would take a nap myself. I found that sweet Miss Sophia standing in her door, which was next to ours, and she took me in her room and shut the door very soft, and asked me if I liked her, and I said I did; and she asked me if I would do something for her and not tell anybody, and I said I would. Then she said she’d forgot her Testament, and left it in the seat at church between two other books, and would I slip out quiet and go there and fetch it to her, and not say nothing to nobody. I said I would. So I slid out and slipped off up the road, and there warn’t anybody at the church, except maybe a hog or two, for there warn’t any lock on the door, and hogs likes a puncheon floor in summer-time because it’s cool. If you notice, most folks don’t go to church only when they’ve got to; but a hog is different.
+
+Says I to myself, something’s up; it ain’t natural for a girl to be in such a sweat about a Testament. So I give it a shake, and out drops a little piece of paper with “Half-past two” wrote on it with a pencil. I ransacked it, but couldn’t find anything else. I couldn’t make anything out of that, so I put the paper in the book again, and when I got home and upstairs there was Miss Sophia in her door waiting for me. She pulled me in and shut the door; then she looked in the Testament till she found the paper, and as soon as she read it she looked glad; and before a body could think she grabbed me and give me a squeeze, and said I was the best boy in the world, and not to tell anybody. She was mighty red in the face for a minute, and her eyes lighted up, and it made her powerful pretty. I was a good deal astonished, but when I got my breath I asked her what the paper was about, and she asked me if I had read it, and I said no, and she asked me if I could read writing, and I told her “no, only coarse-hand,” and then she said the paper warn’t anything but a book-mark to keep her place, and I might go and play now.
+
+I went off down to the river, studying over this thing, and pretty soon I noticed that my nigger was following along behind. When we was out of sight of the house he looked back and around a second, and then comes a-running, and says:
+
+“Mars Jawge, if you’ll come down into de swamp I’ll show you a whole stack o’ water-moccasins.”
+
+Thinks I, that’s mighty curious; he said that yesterday. He oughter know a body don’t love water-moccasins enough to go around hunting for them. What is he up to, anyway? So I says:
+
+“All right; trot ahead.”
+
+I followed a half a mile; then he struck out over the swamp, and waded ankle deep as much as another half-mile. We come to a little flat piece of land which was dry and very thick with trees and bushes and vines, and he says:
+
+“You shove right in dah jist a few steps, Mars Jawge; dah’s whah dey is. I’s seed ’m befo’; I don’t k’yer to see ’em no mo’.”
+
+Then he slopped right along and went away, and pretty soon the trees hid him. I poked into the place a-ways and come to a little open patch as big as a bedroom all hung around with vines, and found a man laying there asleep — and, by jings, it was my old Jim!
+
+I waked him up, and I reckoned it was going to be a grand surprise to him to see me again, but it warn’t. He nearly cried he was so glad, but he warn’t surprised. Said he swum along behind me that night, and heard me yell every time, but dasn’t answer, because he didn’t want nobody to pick him up and take him into slavery again. Says he:
+
+“I got hurt a little, en couldn’t swim fas’, so I wuz a considable ways behine you towards de las’; when you landed I reck’ned I could ketch up wid you on de lan’ ’dout havin’ to shout at you, but when I see dat house I begin to go slow. I ’uz off too fur to hear what dey say to you — I wuz ’fraid o’ de dogs; but when it ’uz all quiet agin, I knowed you’s in de house, so I struck out for de woods to wait for day. Early in de mawnin’ some er de niggers come along, gwyne to de fields, en dey tuk me en showed me dis place, whah de dogs can’t track me on accounts o’ de water, en dey brings me truck to eat every night, en tells me how you’s a-gitt’n along.”
+
+“Why didn’t you tell my Jack to fetch me here sooner, Jim?”
+
+“Well, ’twarn’t no use to ’sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfn — but we’s all right now. I ben a-buyin’ pots en pans en vittles, as I got a chanst, en a-patchin’ up de raf’ nights when — ”
+
+“What raft, Jim?”
+
+“Our ole raf’.”
+
+“You mean to say our old raft warn’t smashed all to flinders?”
+
+“No, she warn’t. She was tore up a good deal — one en’ of her was; but dey warn’t no great harm done, on’y our traps was mos’ all los’. Ef we hadn’ dive’ so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn’ ben so dark, en we warn’t so sk’yerd, en ben sich punkin-heads, as de sayin’ is, we’d a seed de raf’. But it’s jis’ as well we didn’t, ’kase now she’s all fixed up agin mos’ as good as new, en we’s got a new lot o’ stuff, in de place o’ what ’uz los’.”
+
+“Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jim — did you catch her?”
+
+“How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods? No; some er de niggers foun’ her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben’, en dey hid her in a crick ’mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin’ ’bout which un ’um she b’long to de mos’ dat I come to heah ’bout it pooty soon, so I ups en settles de trouble by tellin’ ’um she don’t b’long to none uv um, but to you en me; en I ast ’m if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman’s propaty, en git a hid’n for it? Den I gin ’m ten cents apiece, en dey ’uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo’ raf’s ’ud come along en make ’m rich agin. Dey’s mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I wants ’m to do fur me, I doan’ have to ast ’m twice, honey. Dat Jack’s a good nigger, en pooty smart.”
+
+“Yes, he is. He ain’t ever told me you was here; told me to come, and he’d show me a lot of water-moccasins. If anything happens he ain’t mixed up in it. He can say he never seen us together, and it’ll be the truth.”
+
+I don’t want to talk much about the next day. I reckon I’ll cut it pretty short. I waked up about dawn, and was a-going to turn over and go to sleep again, when I noticed how still it was — didn’t seem to be anybody stirring. That warn’t usual. Next I noticed that Buck was up and gone. Well, I gets up, a-wondering, and goes down stairs — nobody around; everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks I, what does it mean? Down by the wood-pile I comes across my Jack, and says:
+
+“What’s it all about?”
+
+Says he:
+
+“Don’t you know, Mars Jawge?”
+
+“No,” says I, “I don’t.”
+
+“Well, den, Miss Sophia’s run off! ’deed she has. She run off in de night some time — nobody don’t know jis’ when; run off to get married to dat young Harney Shepherdson, you know — leastways, so dey ’spec. De fambly foun’ it out ’bout half an hour ago — maybe a little mo’ — en’ I tell you dey warn’t no time los’. Sich another hurryin’ up guns en hosses you never see! De women folks has gone for to stir up de relations, en ole Mars Saul en de boys tuck dey guns en rode up de river road for to try to ketch dat young man en kill him ’fo’ he kin git acrost de river wid Miss Sophia. I reck’n dey’s gwyne to be mighty rough times.”
+
+“Buck went off ’thout waking me up.”
+
+“Well, I reck’n he did! Dey warn’t gwyne to mix you up in it. Mars Buck he loaded up his gun en ’lowed he’s gwyne to fetch home a Shepherdson or bust. Well, dey’ll be plenty un ’m dah, I reck’n, en you bet you he’ll fetch one ef he gits a chanst.”
+
+I took up the river road as hard as I could put. By-and-by I begin to hear guns a good ways off. When I come in sight of the log store and the woodpile where the steamboats lands, I worked along under the trees and brush till I got to a good place, and then I clumb up into the forks of a cottonwood that was out of reach, and watched. There was a wood-rank four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I was going to hide behind that; but maybe it was luckier I didn’t.
+
+There was four or five men cavorting around on their horses in the open place before the log store, cussing and yelling, and trying to get at a couple of young chaps that was behind the wood-rank alongside of the steamboat landing; but they couldn’t come it. Every time one of them showed himself on the river side of the woodpile he got shot at. The two boys was squatting back to back behind the pile, so they could watch both ways.
+
+By-and-by the men stopped cavorting around and yelling. They started riding towards the store; then up gets one of the boys, draws a steady bead over the wood-rank, and drops one of them out of his saddle. All the men jumped off of their horses and grabbed the hurt one and started to carry him to the store; and that minute the two boys started on the run. They got half way to the tree I was in before the men noticed. Then the men see them, and jumped on their horses and took out after them. They gained on the boys, but it didn’t do no good, the boys had too good a start; they got to the woodpile that was in front of my tree, and slipped in behind it, and so they had the bulge on the men again. One of the boys was Buck, and the other was a slim young chap about nineteen years old.
+
+The men ripped around awhile, and then rode away. As soon as they was out of sight I sung out to Buck and told him. He didn’t know what to make of my voice coming out of the tree at first. He was awful surprised. He told me to watch out sharp and let him know when the men come in sight again; said they was up to some devilment or other — wouldn’t be gone long. I wished I was out of that tree, but I dasn’t come down. Buck begun to cry and rip, and ’lowed that him and his cousin Joe (that was the other young chap) would make up for this day yet. He said his father and his two brothers was killed, and two or three of the enemy. Said the Shepherdsons laid for them in ambush. Buck said his father and brothers ought to waited for their relations — the Shepherdsons was too strong for them. I asked him what was become of young Harney and Miss Sophia. He said they’d got across the river and was safe. I was glad of that; but the way Buck did take on because he didn’t manage to kill Harney that day he shot at him — I hain’t ever heard anything like it.
+
+All of a sudden, bang! bang! bang! goes three or four guns — the men had slipped around through the woods and come in from behind without their horses! The boys jumped for the river — both of them hurt — and as they swum down the current the men run along the bank shooting at them and singing out, “Kill them, kill them!” It made me so sick I most fell out of the tree. I ain’t a-going to tell all that happened — it would make me sick again if I was to do that. I wished I hadn’t ever come ashore that night to see such things. I ain’t ever going to get shut of them — lots of times I dream about them.
+
+I stayed in the tree till it begun to get dark, afraid to come down. Sometimes I heard guns away off in the woods; and twice I seen little gangs of men gallop past the log store with guns; so I reckoned the trouble was still a-going on. I was mighty downhearted; so I made up my mind I wouldn’t ever go anear that house again, because I reckoned I was to blame, somehow. I judged that that piece of paper meant that Miss Sophia was to meet Harney somewheres at half-past two and run off; and I judged I ought to told her father about that paper and the curious way she acted, and then maybe he would a locked her up, and this awful mess wouldn’t ever happened.
+
+When I got down out of the tree, I crept along down the river bank a piece, and found the two bodies laying in the edge of the water, and tugged at them till I got them ashore; then I covered up their faces, and got away as quick as I could. I cried a little when I was covering up Buck’s face, for he was mighty good to me.
+
+It was just dark now. I never went near the house, but struck through the woods and made for the swamp. Jim warn’t on his island, so I tramped off in a hurry for the crick, and crowded through the willows, red-hot to jump aboard and get out of that awful country. The raft was gone! My souls, but I was scared! I couldn’t get my breath for most a minute. Then I raised a yell. A voice not twenty-five foot from me says:
+
+“Good lan’! is dat you, honey? Doan’ make no noise.”
+
+It was Jim’s voice — nothing ever sounded so good before. I run along the bank a piece and got aboard, and Jim he grabbed me and hugged me, he was so glad to see me. He says:
+
+“Laws bless you, chile, I ’uz right down sho’ you’s dead agin. Jack’s been heah; he say he reck’n you’s ben shot, kase you didn’ come home no mo’; so I’s jes’ dis minute a startin’ de raf’ down towards de mouf er de crick, so’s to be all ready for to shove out en leave soon as Jack comes agin en tells me for certain you is dead. Lawsy, I’s mighty glad to git you back agin, honey.”
+
+I says:
+
+“All right — that’s mighty good; they won’t find me, and they’ll think I’ve been killed, and floated down the river — there’s something up there that’ll help them think so — so don’t you lose no time, Jim, but just shove off for the big water as fast as ever you can.”
+
+I never felt easy till the raft was two mile below there and out in the middle of the Mississippi. Then we hung up our signal lantern, and judged that we was free and safe once more. I hadn’t had a bite to eat since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, and pork and cabbage and greens — there ain’t nothing in the world so good when it’s cooked right — and whilst I eat my supper we talked, and had a good time. I was powerful glad to get away from the feuds, and so was Jim to get away from the swamp. We said there warn’t no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don’t. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+Two or three days and nights went by; I reckon I might say they swum by, they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put in the time. It was a monstrous big river down there — sometimes a mile and a half wide; we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes; soon as night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied up — nearly always in the dead water under a tow-head; and then cut young cottonwoods and willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next we slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool off; then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee deep, and watched the daylight come. Not a sound anywheres — perfectly still — just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs a-cluttering, maybe. The first thing to see, looking away over the water, was a kind of dull line — that was the woods on t’other side; you couldn’t make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness spreading around; then the river softened up away off, and warn’t black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along ever so far away — trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks — rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by-and-by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there’s a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log-cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t’other side of the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they’ve left dead fish laying around, gars and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next you’ve got the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it!
+
+A little smoke couldn’t be noticed now, so we would take some fish off of the lines and cook up a hot breakfast. And afterwards we would watch the lonesomeness of the river, and kind of lazy along, and by-and-by lazy off to sleep. Wake up by-and-by, and look to see what done it, and maybe see a steamboat coughing along up-stream, so far off towards the other side you couldn’t tell nothing about her only whether she was a stern-wheel or side-wheel; then for about an hour there wouldn’t be nothing to hear nor nothing to see — just solid lonesomeness. Next you’d see a raft sliding by, away off yonder, and maybe a galoot on it chopping, because they’re most always doing it on a raft; you’d see the axe flash and come down — you don’t hear nothing; you see that axe go up again, and by the time it’s above the man’s head then you hear the k’chunk! — it had took all that time to come over the water. So we would put in the day, lazying around, listening to the stillness. Once there was a thick fog, and the rafts and things that went by was beating tin pans so the steamboats wouldn’t run over them. A scow or a raft went by so close we could hear them talking and cussing and laughing — heard them plain; but we couldn’t see no sign of them; it made you feel crawly; it was like spirits carrying on that way in the air. Jim said he believed it was spirits; but I says:
+
+“No; spirits wouldn’t say, ‘Dern the dern fog.’”
+
+Soon as it was night out we shoved; when we got her out to about the middle we let her alone, and let her float wherever the current wanted her to; then we lit the pipes, and dangled our legs in the water, and talked about all kinds of things — we was always naked, day and night, whenever the mosquitoes would let us — the new clothes Buck’s folks made for me was too good to be comfortable, and besides I didn’t go much on clothes, nohow.
+
+Sometimes we’d have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe a spark — which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water you could see a spark or two — on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn’t say nothing against it, because I’ve seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they’d got spoiled and was hove out of the nest.
+
+Once or twice of a night we would see a steamboat slipping along in the dark, and now and then she would belch a whole world of sparks up out of her chimbleys, and they would rain down in the river and look awful pretty; then she would turn a corner and her lights would wink out and her powwow shut off and leave the river still again; and by-and-by her waves would get to us, a long time after she was gone, and joggle the raft a bit, and after that you wouldn’t hear nothing for you couldn’t tell how long, except maybe frogs or something.
+
+After midnight the people on shore went to bed, and then for two or three hours the shores was black — no more sparks in the cabin windows. These sparks was our clock — the first one that showed again meant morning was coming, so we hunted a place to hide and tie up right away.
+
+One morning about daybreak I found a canoe and crossed over a chute to the main shore — it was only two hundred yards — and paddled about a mile up a crick amongst the cypress woods, to see if I couldn’t get some berries. Just as I was passing a place where a kind of a cowpath crossed the crick, here comes a couple of men tearing up the path as tight as they could foot it. I thought I was a goner, for whenever anybody was after anybody I judged it was me — or maybe Jim. I was about to dig out from there in a hurry, but they was pretty close to me then, and sung out and begged me to save their lives — said they hadn’t been doing nothing, and was being chased for it — said there was men and dogs a-coming. They wanted to jump right in, but I says:
+
+“Don’t you do it. I don’t hear the dogs and horses yet; you’ve got time to crowd through the brush and get up the crick a little ways; then you take to the water and wade down to me and get in — that’ll throw the dogs off the scent.”
+
+They done it, and soon as they was aboard I lit out for our tow-head, and in about five or ten minutes we heard the dogs and the men away off, shouting. We heard them come along towards the crick, but couldn’t see them; they seemed to stop and fool around a while; then, as we got further and further away all the time, we couldn’t hardly hear them at all; by the time we had left a mile of woods behind us and struck the river, everything was quiet, and we paddled over to the tow-head and hid in the cottonwoods and was safe.
+
+One of these fellows was about seventy or upwards, and had a bald head and very gray whiskers. He had an old battered-up slouch hat on, and a greasy blue woollen shirt, and ragged old blue jeans britches stuffed into his boot-tops, and home-knit galluses — no, he only had one. He had an old long-tailed blue jeans coat with slick brass buttons flung over his arm, and both of them had big, fat, ratty-looking carpet-bags.
+
+The other fellow was about thirty, and dressed about as ornery. After breakfast we all laid off and talked, and the first thing that come out was that these chaps didn’t know one another.
+
+“What got you into trouble?” says the baldhead to t’other chap.
+
+“Well, I’d been selling an article to take the tartar off the teeth — and it does take it off, too, and generly the enamel along with it — but I stayed about one night longer than I ought to, and was just in the act of sliding out when I ran across you on the trail this side of town, and you told me they were coming, and begged me to help you to get off. So I told you I was expecting trouble myself, and would scatter out with you. That’s the whole yarn — what’s yourn?
+
+“Well, I’d ben a-runnin’ a little temperance revival thar, ’bout a week, and was the pet of the women folks, big and little, for I was makin’ it mighty warm for the rummies, I tell you, and takin’ as much as five or six dollars a night — ten cents a head, children and niggers free — and business a-growin’ all the time, when somehow or another a little report got around last night that I had a way of puttin’ in my time with a private jug on the sly. A nigger rousted me out this mornin’, and told me the people was getherin’ on the quiet with their dogs and horses, and they’d be along pretty soon and give me ’bout half an hour’s start, and then run me down if they could; and if they got me they’d tar and feather me and ride me on a rail, sure. I didn’t wait for no breakfast — I warn’t hungry.”
+
+“Old man,” said the young one, “I reckon we might double-team it together; what do you think?”
+
+“I ain’t undisposed. What’s your line — mainly?”
+
+“Jour printer by trade; do a little in patent medicines; theater-actor — tragedy, you know; take a turn to mesmerism and phrenology when there’s a chance; teach singing-geography school for a change; sling a lecture sometimes — oh, I do lots of things — most anything that comes handy, so it ain’t work. What’s your lay?”
+
+“I’ve done considerble in the doctoring way in my time. Layin’ on o’ hands is my best holt — for cancer and paralysis, and sich things; and I k’n tell a fortune pretty good when I’ve got somebody along to find out the facts for me. Preachin’s my line, too, and workin’ camp-meetin’s, and missionaryin’ around.”
+
+Nobody never said anything for a while; then the young man hove a sigh and says:
+
+“Alas!”
+
+“What ’re you alassin’ about?” says the baldhead.
+
+“To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be degraded down into such company.” And he begun to wipe the corner of his eye with a rag.
+
+“Dern your skin, ain’t the company good enough for you?” says the baldhead, pretty pert and uppish.
+
+“Yes, it is good enough for me; it’s as good as I deserve; for who fetched me so low when I was so high? I did myself. I don’t blame you, gentlemen — far from it; I don’t blame anybody. I deserve it all. Let the cold world do its worst; one thing I know — there’s a grave somewhere for me. The world may go on just as it’s always done, and take everything from me — loved ones, property, everything; but it can’t take that. Some day I’ll lie down in it and forget it all, and my poor broken heart will be at rest.” He went on a-wiping.
+
+“Drot your pore broken heart,” says the baldhead; “what are you heaving your pore broken heart at us f’r? We hain’t done nothing.”
+
+“No, I know you haven’t. I ain’t blaming you, gentlemen. I brought myself down — yes, I did it myself. It’s right I should suffer — perfectly right — I don’t make any moan.”
+
+“Brought you down from whar? Whar was you brought down from?”
+
+“Ah, you would not believe me; the world never believes — let it pass — ’tis no matter. The secret of my birth — ”
+
+“The secret of your birth! Do you mean to say — ”
+
+“Gentlemen,” says the young man, very solemn, “I will reveal it to you, for I feel I may have confidence in you. By rights I am a duke!”
+
+Jim’s eyes bugged out when he heard that; and I reckon mine did, too. Then the baldhead says: “No! you can’t mean it?”
+
+“Yes. My great-grandfather, eldest son of the Duke of Bridgewater, fled to this country about the end of the last century, to breathe the pure air of freedom; married here, and died, leaving a son, his own father dying about the same time. The second son of the late duke seized the titles and estates — the infant real duke was ignored. I am the lineal descendant of that infant — I am the rightful Duke of Bridgewater; and here am I, forlorn, torn from my high estate, hunted of men, despised by the cold world, ragged, worn, heart-broken, and degraded to the companionship of felons on a raft!”
+
+Jim pitied him ever so much, and so did I. We tried to comfort him, but he said it warn’t much use, he couldn’t be much comforted; said if we was a mind to acknowledge him, that would do him more good than most anything else; so we said we would, if he would tell us how. He said we ought to bow when we spoke to him, and say “Your Grace,” or “My Lord,” or “Your Lordship” — and he wouldn’t mind it if we called him plain “Bridgewater,” which, he said, was a title anyway, and not a name; and one of us ought to wait on him at dinner, and do any little thing for him he wanted done.
+
+Well, that was all easy, so we done it. All through dinner Jim stood around and waited on him, and says, “Will yo’ Grace have some o’ dis or some o’ dat?” and so on, and a body could see it was mighty pleasing to him.
+
+But the old man got pretty silent by-and-by — didn’t have much to say, and didn’t look pretty comfortable over all that petting that was going on around that duke. He seemed to have something on his mind. So, along in the afternoon, he says:
+
+“Looky here, Bilgewater,” he says, “I’m nation sorry for you, but you ain’t the only person that’s had troubles like that.”
+
+“No?”
+
+“No you ain’t. You ain’t the only person that’s ben snaked down wrongfully out’n a high place.”
+
+“Alas!”
+
+“No, you ain’t the only person that’s had a secret of his birth.” And, by jings, he begins to cry.
+
+“Hold! What do you mean?”
+
+“Bilgewater, kin I trust you?” says the old man, still sort of sobbing.
+
+“To the bitter death!” He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, and says, “That secret of your being: speak!”
+
+“Bilgewater, I am the late Dauphin!”
+
+You bet you, Jim and me stared this time. Then the duke says:
+
+“You are what?”
+
+“Yes, my friend, it is too true — your eyes is lookin’ at this very moment on the pore disappeared Dauphin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the Sixteen and Marry Antonette.”
+
+“You! At your age! No! You mean you’re the late Charlemagne; you must be six or seven hundred years old, at the very least.”
+
+“Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it; trouble has brung these gray hairs and this premature balditude. Yes, gentlemen, you see before you, in blue jeans and misery, the wanderin’, exiled, trampled-on, and sufferin’ rightful King of France.”
+
+Well, he cried and took on so that me and Jim didn’t know hardly what to do, we was so sorry — and so glad and proud we’d got him with us, too. So we set in, like we done before with the duke, and tried to comfort him. But he said it warn’t no use, nothing but to be dead and done with it all could do him any good; though he said it often made him feel easier and better for a while if people treated him according to his rights, and got down on one knee to speak to him, and always called him “Your Majesty,” and waited on him first at meals, and didn’t set down in his presence till he asked them. So Jim and me set to majestying him, and doing this and that and t’other for him, and standing up till he told us we might set down. This done him heaps of good, and so he got cheerful and comfortable. But the duke kind of soured on him, and didn’t look a bit satisfied with the way things was going; still, the king acted real friendly towards him, and said the duke’s great-grandfather and all the other Dukes of Bilgewater was a good deal thought of by his father, and was allowed to come to the palace considerable; but the duke stayed huffy a good while, till by-and-by the king says:
+
+“Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time on this h-yer raft, Bilgewater, and so what’s the use o’ your bein’ sour? It’ll only make things oncomfortable. It ain’t my fault I warn’t born a duke, it ain’t your fault you warn’t born a king — so what’s the use to worry? Make the best o’ things the way you find ’em, says I — that’s my motto. This ain’t no bad thing that we’ve struck here — plenty grub and an easy life — come, give us your hand, Duke, and le’s all be friends.”
+
+The duke done it, and Jim and me was pretty glad to see it. It took away all the uncomfortableness and we felt mighty good over it, because it would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the raft; for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody to be satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others.
+
+It didn’t take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn’t no kings nor dukes at all, but just low-down humbugs and frauds. But I never said nothing, never let on; kept it to myself; it’s the best way; then you don’t have no quarrels, and don’t get into no trouble. If they wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn’t no objections, ’long as it would keep peace in the family; and it warn’t no use to tell Jim, so I didn’t tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them have their own way.
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+They asked us considerable many questions; wanted to know what we covered up the raft that way for, and laid by in the daytime instead of running — was Jim a runaway nigger? Says I:
+
+“Goodness sakes, would a runaway nigger run south?”
+
+No, they allowed he wouldn’t. I had to account for things some way, so I says:
+
+“My folks was living in Pike County, in Missouri, where I was born, and they all died off but me and pa and my brother Ike. Pa, he ’lowed he’d break up and go down and live with Uncle Ben, who’s got a little one-horse place on the river, forty-four mile below Orleans. Pa was pretty poor, and had some debts; so when he’d squared up there warn’t nothing left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim. That warn’t enough to take us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other way. Well, when the river rose pa had a streak of luck one day; he ketched this piece of a raft; so we reckoned we’d go down to Orleans on it. Pa’s luck didn’t hold out; a steamboat run over the forrard corner of the raft one night, and we all went overboard and dove under the wheel; Jim and me come up all right, but pa was drunk, and Ike was only four years old, so they never come up no more. Well, for the next day or two we had considerable trouble, because people was always coming out in skiffs and trying to take Jim away from me, saying they believed he was a runaway nigger. We don’t run daytimes no more now; nights they don’t bother us.”
+
+The duke says:
+
+“Leave me alone to cipher out a way so we can run in the daytime if we want to. I’ll think the thing over — I’ll invent a plan that’ll fix it. We’ll let it alone for to-day, because of course we don’t want to go by that town yonder in daylight — it mightn’t be healthy.”
+
+Towards night it begun to darken up and look like rain; the heat lightning was squirting around low down in the sky, and the leaves was beginning to shiver — it was going to be pretty ugly, it was easy to see that. So the duke and the king went to overhauling our wigwam, to see what the beds was like. My bed was a straw tick better than Jim’s, which was a corn-shuck tick; there’s always cobs around about in a shuck tick, and they poke into you and hurt; and when you roll over the dry shucks sound like you was rolling over in a pile of dead leaves; it makes such a rustling that you wake up. Well, the duke allowed he would take my bed; but the king allowed he wouldn’t. He says:
+
+“I should a reckoned the difference in rank would a sejested to you that a corn-shuck bed warn’t just fitten for me to sleep on. Your Grace’ll take the shuck bed yourself.”
+
+Jim and me was in a sweat again for a minute, being afraid there was going to be some more trouble amongst them; so we was pretty glad when the duke says:
+
+“’Tis my fate to be always ground into the mire under the iron heel of oppression. Misfortune has broken my once haughty spirit; I yield, I submit; ’tis my fate. I am alone in the world — let me suffer; I can bear it.”
+
+We got away as soon as it was good and dark. The king told us to stand well out towards the middle of the river, and not show a light till we got a long ways below the town. We come in sight of the little bunch of lights by-and-by — that was the town, you know — and slid by, about a half a mile out, all right. When we was three-quarters of a mile below we hoisted up our signal lantern; and about ten o’clock it come on to rain and blow and thunder and lighten like everything; so the king told us to both stay on watch till the weather got better; then him and the duke crawled into the wigwam and turned in for the night. It was my watch below till twelve, but I wouldn’t a turned in anyway if I’d had a bed, because a body don’t see such a storm as that every day in the week, not by a long sight. My souls, how the wind did scream along! And every second or two there’d come a glare that lit up the white-caps for a half a mile around, and you’d see the islands looking dusty through the rain, and the trees thrashing around in the wind; then comes a h-whack! — bum! bum! bumble-umble-um-bum-bum-bum-bum — and the thunder would go rumbling and grumbling away, and quit — and then rip comes another flash and another sockdolager. The waves most washed me off the raft sometimes, but I hadn’t any clothes on, and didn’t mind. We didn’t have no trouble about snags; the lightning was glaring and flittering around so constant that we could see them plenty soon enough to throw her head this way or that and miss them.
+
+I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me; he was always mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn’t no show for me; so I laid outside — I didn’t mind the rain, because it was warm, and the waves warn’t running so high now. About two they come up again, though, and Jim was going to call me; but he changed his mind, because he reckoned they warn’t high enough yet to do any harm; but he was mistaken about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a regular ripper and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim a-laughing. He was the easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway.
+
+I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away; and by-and-by the storm let up for good and all; and the first cabin-light that showed, I rousted him out and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the day.
+
+The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him and the duke played seven-up a while, five cents a game. Then they got tired of it, and allowed they would “lay out a campaign,” as they called it. The duke went down into his carpet-bag, and fetched up a lot of little printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, “The celebrated Dr. Armand de Montalban, of Paris,” would “lecture on the Science of Phrenology” at such and such a place, on the blank day of blank, at ten cents admission, and “furnish charts of character at twenty-five cents apiece.” The duke said that was him. In another bill he was the “world-renowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane, London.” In other bills he had a lot of other names and done other wonderful things, like finding water and gold with a “divining-rod,” “dissipating witch spells,” and so on. By-and-by he says:
+
+“But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, Royalty?”
+
+“No,” says the king.
+
+“You shall, then, before you’re three days older, Fallen Grandeur,” says the duke. “The first good town we come to we’ll hire a hall and do the sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. How does that strike you?”
+
+“I’m in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you see, I don’t know nothing about play-actin’, and hain’t ever seen much of it. I was too small when pap used to have ’em at the palace. Do you reckon you can learn me?”
+
+“Easy!”
+
+“All right. I’m jist a-freezn’ for something fresh, anyway. Le’s commence right away.”
+
+So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet.
+
+“But if Juliet’s such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white whiskers is goin’ to look oncommon odd on her, maybe.”
+
+“No, don’t you worry; these country jakes won’t ever think of that. Besides, you know, you’ll be in costume, and that makes all the difference in the world; Juliet’s in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight before she goes to bed, and she’s got on her night-gown and her ruffled nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts.”
+
+He got out two or three curtain-calico suits, which he said was meedyevil armor for Richard III. and t’other chap, and a long white cotton nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was satisfied; so the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the most splendid spread-eagle way, prancing around and acting at the same time, to show how it had got to be done; then he give the book to the king and told him to get his part by heart.
+
+There was a little one-horse town about three mile down the bend, and after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim; so he allowed he would go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, too, and see if he couldn’t strike something. We was out of coffee, so Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some.
+
+When we got there there warn’t nobody stirring; streets empty, and perfectly dead and still, like Sunday. We found a sick nigger sunning himself in a back yard, and he said everybody that warn’t too young or too sick or too old was gone to camp-meeting, about two mile back in the woods. The king got the directions, and allowed he’d go and work that camp-meeting for all it was worth, and I might go, too.
+
+The duke said what he was after was a printing-office. We found it; a little bit of a concern, up over a carpenter shop — carpenters and printers all gone to the meeting, and no doors locked. It was a dirty, littered-up place, and had ink marks, and handbills with pictures of horses and runaway niggers on them, all over the walls. The duke shed his coat and said he was all right now. So me and the king lit out for the camp-meeting.
+
+We got there in about a half an hour fairly dripping, for it was a most awful hot day. There was as much as a thousand people there from twenty mile around. The woods was full of teams and wagons, hitched everywheres, feeding out of the wagon-troughs and stomping to keep off the flies. There was sheds made out of poles and roofed over with branches, where they had lemonade and gingerbread to sell, and piles of watermelons and green corn and such-like truck.
+
+The preaching was going on under the same kinds of sheds, only they was bigger and held crowds of people. The benches was made out of outside slabs of logs, with holes bored in the round side to drive sticks into for legs. They didn’t have no backs. The preachers had high platforms to stand on at one end of the sheds. The women had on sun-bonnets; and some had linsey-woolsey frocks, some gingham ones, and a few of the young ones had on calico. Some of the young men was barefooted, and some of the children didn’t have on any clothes but just a tow-linen shirt. Some of the old women was knitting, and some of the young folks was courting on the sly.
+
+The first shed we come to the preacher was lining out a hymn. He lined out two lines, everybody sung it, and it was kind of grand to hear it, there was so many of them and they done it in such a rousing way; then he lined out two more for them to sing — and so on. The people woke up more and more, and sung louder and louder; and towards the end some begun to groan, and some begun to shout. Then the preacher begun to preach, and begun in earnest, too; and went weaving first to one side of the platform and then the other, and then a-leaning down over the front of it, with his arms and his body going all the time, and shouting his words out with all his might; and every now and then he would hold up his Bible and spread it open, and kind of pass it around this way and that, shouting, “It’s the brazen serpent in the wilderness! Look upon it and live!” And people would shout out, “Glory! — A-a-men!” And so he went on, and the people groaning and crying and saying amen:
+
+“Oh, come to the mourners’ bench! come, black with sin! (amen!) come, sick and sore! (amen!) come, lame and halt and blind! (amen!) come, pore and needy, sunk in shame! (a-a-men!) come, all that’s worn and soiled and suffering! — come with a broken spirit! come with a contrite heart! come in your rags and sin and dirt! the waters that cleanse is free, the door of heaven stands open — oh, enter in and be at rest!” (a-a-men! glory, glory hallelujah!)
+
+And so on. You couldn’t make out what the preacher said any more, on account of the shouting and crying. Folks got up everywheres in the crowd, and worked their way just by main strength to the mourners’ bench, with the tears running down their faces; and when all the mourners had got up there to the front benches in a crowd, they sung and shouted and flung themselves down on the straw, just crazy and wild.
+
+Well, the first I knowed the king got a-going, and you could hear him over everybody; and next he went a-charging up on to the platform, and the preacher he begged him to speak to the people, and he done it. He told them he was a pirate — been a pirate for thirty years out in the Indian Ocean — and his crew was thinned out considerable last spring in a fight, and he was home now to take out some fresh men, and thanks to goodness he’d been robbed last night and put ashore off of a steamboat without a cent, and he was glad of it; it was the blessedest thing that ever happened to him, because he was a changed man now, and happy for the first time in his life; and, poor as he was, he was going to start right off and work his way back to the Indian Ocean, and put in the rest of his life trying to turn the pirates into the true path; for he could do it better than anybody else, being acquainted with all pirate crews in that ocean; and though it would take him a long time to get there without money, he would get there anyway, and every time he convinced a pirate he would say to him, “Don’t you thank me, don’t you give me no credit; it all belongs to them dear people in Pokeville camp-meeting, natural brothers and benefactors of the race, and that dear preacher there, the truest friend a pirate ever had!”
+
+And then he busted into tears, and so did everybody. Then somebody sings out, “Take up a collection for him, take up a collection!” Well, a half a dozen made a jump to do it, but somebody sings out, “Let him pass the hat around!” Then everybody said it, the preacher too.
+
+So the king went all through the crowd with his hat swabbing his eyes, and blessing the people and praising them and thanking them for being so good to the poor pirates away off there; and every little while the prettiest kind of girls, with the tears running down their cheeks, would up and ask him would he let them kiss him for to remember him by; and he always done it; and some of them he hugged and kissed as many as five or six times — and he was invited to stay a week; and everybody wanted him to live in their houses, and said they’d think it was an honor; but he said as this was the last day of the camp-meeting he couldn’t do no good, and besides he was in a sweat to get to the Indian Ocean right off and go to work on the pirates.
+
+When we got back to the raft and he come to count up he found he had collected eighty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents. And then he had fetched away a three-gallon jug of whisky, too, that he found under a wagon when he was starting home through the woods. The king said, take it all around, it laid over any day he’d ever put in in the missionarying line. He said it warn’t no use talking, heathens don’t amount to shucks alongside of pirates to work a camp-meeting with.
+
+The duke was thinking he’d been doing pretty well till the king come to show up, but after that he didn’t think so so much. He had set up and printed off two little jobs for farmers in that printing-office — horse bills — and took the money, four dollars. And he had got in ten dollars’ worth of advertisements for the paper, which he said he would put in for four dollars if they would pay in advance — so they done it. The price of the paper was two dollars a year, but he took in three subscriptions for half a dollar apiece on condition of them paying him in advance; they were going to pay in cordwood and onions as usual, but he said he had just bought the concern and knocked down the price as low as he could afford it, and was going to run it for cash. He set up a little piece of poetry, which he made, himself, out of his own head — three verses — kind of sweet and saddish — the name of it was, “Yes, crush, cold world, this breaking heart” — and he left that all set up and ready to print in the paper, and didn’t charge nothing for it. Well, he took in nine dollars and a half, and said he’d done a pretty square day’s work for it.
+
+Then he showed us another little job he’d printed and hadn’t charged for, because it was for us. It had a picture of a runaway nigger with a bundle on a stick over his shoulder, and “$200 reward” under it. The reading was all about Jim, and just described him to a dot. It said he run away from St. Jacques’ plantation, forty mile below New Orleans, last winter, and likely went north, and whoever would catch him and send him back he could have the reward and expenses.
+
+“Now,” says the duke, “after to-night we can run in the daytime if we want to. Whenever we see anybody coming we can tie Jim hand and foot with a rope, and lay him in the wigwam and show this handbill and say we captured him up the river, and were too poor to travel on a steamboat, so we got this little raft on credit from our friends and are going down to get the reward. Handcuffs and chains would look still better on Jim, but it wouldn’t go well with the story of us being so poor. Too much like jewelry. Ropes are the correct thing — we must preserve the unities, as we say on the boards.”
+
+We all said the duke was pretty smart, and there couldn’t be no trouble about running daytimes. We judged we could make miles enough that night to get out of the reach of the powwow we reckoned the duke’s work in the printing office was going to make in that little town; then we could boom right along if we wanted to.
+
+We laid low and kept still, and never shoved out till nearly ten o’clock; then we slid by, pretty wide away from the town, and didn’t hoist our lantern till we was clear out of sight of it.
+
+When Jim called me to take the watch at four in the morning, he says:
+
+“Huck, does you reck’n we gwyne to run acrost any mo’ kings on dis trip?”
+
+“No,” I says, “I reckon not.”
+
+“Well,” says he, “dat’s all right, den. I doan’ mine one er two kings, but dat’s enough. Dis one’s powerful drunk, en de duke ain’ much better.”
+
+I found Jim had been trying to get him to talk French, so he could hear what it was like; but he said he had been in this country so long, and had so much trouble, he’d forgot it.
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+It was after sun-up now, but we went right on and didn’t tie up. The king and the duke turned out by-and-by looking pretty rusty; but after they’d jumped overboard and took a swim it chippered them up a good deal. After breakfast the king he took a seat on the corner of the raft, and pulled off his boots and rolled up his britches, and let his legs dangle in the water, so as to be comfortable, and lit his pipe, and went to getting his Romeo and Juliet by heart. When he had got it pretty good, him and the duke begun to practice it together. The duke had to learn him over and over again how to say every speech; and he made him sigh, and put his hand on his heart, and after a while he said he done it pretty well; “only,” he says, “you mustn’t bellow out Romeo! that way, like a bull — you must say it soft and sick and languishy, so — R-o-o-meo! that is the idea; for Juliet’s a dear sweet mere child of a girl, you know, and she doesn’t bray like a jackass.”
+
+Well, next they got out a couple of long swords that the duke made out of oak laths, and begun to practice the sword fight — the duke called himself Richard III.; and the way they laid on and pranced around the raft was grand to see. But by-and-by the king tripped and fell overboard, and after that they took a rest, and had a talk about all kinds of adventures they’d had in other times along the river.
+
+After dinner the duke says:
+
+“Well, Capet, we’ll want to make this a first-class show, you know, so I guess we’ll add a little more to it. We want a little something to answer encores with, anyway.”
+
+“What’s onkores, Bilgewater?”
+
+The duke told him, and then says:
+
+“I’ll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor’s hornpipe; and you — well, let me see — oh, I’ve got it — you can do Hamlet’s soliloquy.”
+
+“Hamlet’s which?”
+
+“Hamlet’s soliloquy, you know; the most celebrated thing in Shakespeare. Ah, it’s sublime, sublime! Always fetches the house. I haven’t got it in the book — I’ve only got one volume — but I reckon I can piece it out from memory. I’ll just walk up and down a minute, and see if I can call it back from recollection’s vaults.”
+
+So he went to marching up and down, thinking, and frowning horrible every now and then; then he would hoist up his eyebrows; next he would squeeze his hand on his forehead and stagger back and kind of moan; next he would sigh, and next he’d let on to drop a tear. It was beautiful to see him. By-and-by he got it. He told us to give attention. Then he strikes a most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his arms stretched away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky; and then he begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth; and after that, all through his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his chest, and just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before. This is the speech — I learned it, easy enough, while he was learning it to the king:
+
+To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin That makes calamity of so long life; For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane, But that the fear of something after death Murders the innocent sleep, Great nature’s second course, And makes us rather sling the arrows of outrageous fortune Than fly to others that we know not of. There’s the respect must give us pause: Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The law’s delay, and the quietus which his pangs might take. In the dead waste and middle of the night, when churchyards yawn In customary suits of solemn black, But that the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns, Breathes forth contagion on the world, And thus the native hue of resolution, like the poor cat i’ the adage, Is sicklied o’er with care. And all the clouds that lowered o’er our housetops, With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. ’Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. But soft you, the fair Ophelia: Ope not thy ponderous and marble jaws. But get thee to a nunnery — go!
+
+Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he could do it first rate. It seemed like he was just born for it; and when he had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way he would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off.
+
+The first chance we got, the duke he had some show bills printed; and after that, for two or three days as we floated along, the raft was a most uncommon lively place, for there warn’t nothing but sword-fighting and rehearsing — as the duke called it — going on all the time. One morning, when we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight of a little one-horse town in a big bend; so we tied up about three-quarters of a mile above it, in the mouth of a crick which was shut in like a tunnel by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took the canoe and went down there to see if there was any chance in that place for our show.
+
+We struck it mighty lucky; there was going to be a circus there that afternoon, and the country people was already beginning to come in, in all kinds of old shackly wagons, and on horses. The circus would leave before night, so our show would have a pretty good chance. The duke he hired the court house, and we went around and stuck up our bills. They read like this:
+
+Shaksperean Revival!!! Wonderful Attraction! For One Night Only! The world renowned tragedians, David Garrick the younger, of Drury Lane Theatre, London, and Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket Theatre, Whitechapel, Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London, and the Royal Continental Theatres, in their sublime Shaksperean Spectacle entitled The Balcony Scene in Romeo and Juliet!!!
+
+Romeo...................................... Mr. Garrick. Juliet..................................... Mr. Kean.
+
+Assisted by the whole strength of the company! New costumes, new scenery, new appointments!
+
+Also: The thrilling, masterly, and blood-curdling Broad-sword conflict In Richard III.!!!
+
+Richard III................................ Mr. Garrick. Richmond................................... Mr. Kean.
+
+also: (by special request,) Hamlet’s Immortal Soliloquy!! By the Illustrious Kean! Done by him 300 consecutive nights in Paris! For One Night Only, On account of imperative European engagements! Admission 25 cents; children and servants, 10 cents.
+
+Then we went loafing around the town. The stores and houses was most all old shackly dried-up frame concerns that hadn’t ever been painted; they was set up three or four foot above ground on stilts, so as to be out of reach of the water when the river was overflowed. The houses had little gardens around them, but they didn’t seem to raise hardly anything in them but jimpson weeds, and sunflowers, and ash-piles, and old curled-up boots and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and played-out tin-ware. The fences was made of different kinds of boards, nailed on at different times; and they leaned every which-way, and had gates that didn’t generly have but one hinge — a leather one. Some of the fences had been whitewashed, some time or another, but the duke said it was in Clumbus’s time, like enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and people driving them out.
+
+All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in front, and the country people hitched their horses to the awning-posts. There was empty drygoods boxes under the awnings, and loafers roosting on them all day long, whittling them with their Barlow knives; and chawing tobacco, and gaping and yawning and stretching — a mighty ornery lot. They generly had on yellow straw hats most as wide as an umbrella, but didn’t wear no coats nor waistcoats, they called one another Bill, and Buck, and Hank, and Joe, and Andy, and talked lazy and drawly, and used considerable many cuss words. There was as many as one loafer leaning up against every awning-post, and he most always had his hands in his britches-pockets, except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw of tobacco or scratch. What a body was hearing amongst them all the time was:
+
+“Gimme a chaw ’v tobacker, Hank.”
+
+“Cain’t; I hain’t got but one chaw left. Ask Bill.”
+
+Maybe Bill he gives him a chaw; maybe he lies and says he ain’t got none. Some of them kinds of loafers never has a cent in the world, nor a chaw of tobacco of their own. They get all their chawing by borrowing; they say to a fellow, “I wisht you’d len’ me a chaw, Jack, I jist this minute give Ben Thompson the last chaw I had” — which is a lie pretty much everytime; it don’t fool nobody but a stranger; but Jack ain’t no stranger, so he says:
+
+“You give him a chaw, did you? So did your sister’s cat’s grandmother. You pay me back the chaws you’ve awready borry’d off’n me, Lafe Buckner, then I’ll loan you one or two ton of it, and won’t charge you no back intrust, nuther.”
+
+“Well, I did pay you back some of it wunst.”
+
+“Yes, you did — ’bout six chaws. You borry’d store tobacker and paid back nigger-head.”
+
+Store tobacco is flat black plug, but these fellows mostly chaws the natural leaf twisted. When they borrow a chaw they don’t generly cut it off with a knife, but set the plug in between their teeth, and gnaw with their teeth and tug at the plug with their hands till they get it in two; then sometimes the one that owns the tobacco looks mournful at it when it’s handed back, and says, sarcastic:
+
+“Here, gimme the chaw, and you take the plug.”
+
+All the streets and lanes was just mud; they warn’t nothing else but mud — mud as black as tar and nigh about a foot deep in some places, and two or three inches deep in all the places. The hogs loafed and grunted around everywheres. You’d see a muddy sow and a litter of pigs come lazying along the street and whollop herself right down in the way, where folks had to walk around her, and she’d stretch out and shut her eyes and wave her ears whilst the pigs was milking her, and look as happy as if she was on salary. And pretty soon you’d hear a loafer sing out, “Hi! so boy! sick him, Tige!” and away the sow would go, squealing most horrible, with a dog or two swinging to each ear, and three or four dozen more a-coming; and then you would see all the loafers get up and watch the thing out of sight, and laugh at the fun and look grateful for the noise. Then they’d settle back again till there was a dog fight. There couldn’t anything wake them up all over, and make them happy all over, like a dog fight — unless it might be putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting fire to him, or tying a tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to death.
+
+On the river front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank, and they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in. The people had moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of some others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them yet, but it was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide as a house caves in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a mile deep will start in and cave along and cave along till it all caves into the river in one summer. Such a town as that has to be always moving back, and back, and back, because the river’s always gnawing at it.
+
+The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the wagons and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time. Families fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat them in the wagons. There was considerable whisky drinking going on, and I seen three fights. By-and-by somebody sings out:
+
+“Here comes old Boggs! — in from the country for his little old monthly drunk; here he comes, boys!”
+
+All the loafers looked glad; I reckoned they was used to having fun out of Boggs. One of them says:
+
+“Wonder who he’s a-gwyne to chaw up this time. If he’d a-chawed up all the men he’s ben a-gwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he’d have considerable ruputation now.”
+
+Another one says, “I wisht old Boggs ’d threaten me, ’cuz then I’d know I warn’t gwyne to die for a thousan’ year.”
+
+Boggs comes a-tearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an Injun, and singing out:
+
+“Cler the track, thar. I’m on the waw-path, and the price uv coffins is a-gwyne to raise.”
+
+He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle; he was over fifty year old, and had a very red face. Everybody yelled at him and laughed at him and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he’d attend to them and lay them out in their regular turns, but he couldn’t wait now because he’d come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, “Meat first, and spoon vittles to top off on.”
+
+He see me, and rode up and says:
+
+“Whar’d you come f’m, boy? You prepared to die?”
+
+Then he rode on. I was scared, but a man says:
+
+“He don’t mean nothing; he’s always a-carryin’ on like that when he’s drunk. He’s the best naturedest old fool in Arkansaw — never hurt nobody, drunk nor sober.”
+
+Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down so he could see under the curtain of the awning and yells:
+
+“Come out here, Sherburn! Come out and meet the man you’ve swindled. You’re the houn’ I’m after, and I’m a-gwyne to have you, too!”
+
+And so he went on, calling Sherburn everything he could lay his tongue to, and the whole street packed with people listening and laughing and going on. By-and-by a proud-looking man about fifty-five — and he was a heap the best dressed man in that town, too — steps out of the store, and the crowd drops back on each side to let him come. He says to Boggs, mighty ca’m and slow — he says:
+
+“I’m tired of this, but I’ll endure it till one o’clock. Till one o’clock, mind — no longer. If you open your mouth against me only once after that time you can’t travel so far but I will find you.”
+
+Then he turns and goes in. The crowd looked mighty sober; nobody stirred, and there warn’t no more laughing. Boggs rode off blackguarding Sherburn as loud as he could yell, all down the street; and pretty soon back he comes and stops before the store, still keeping it up. Some men crowded around him and tried to get him to shut up, but he wouldn’t; they told him it would be one o’clock in about fifteen minutes, and so he must go home — he must go right away. But it didn’t do no good. He cussed away with all his might, and throwed his hat down in the mud and rode over it, and pretty soon away he went a-raging down the street again, with his gray hair a-flying. Everybody that could get a chance at him tried their best to coax him off of his horse so they could lock him up and get him sober; but it warn’t no use — up the street he would tear again, and give Sherburn another cussing. By-and-by somebody says:
+
+“Go for his daughter! — quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he’ll listen to her. If anybody can persuade him, she can.”
+
+So somebody started on a run. I walked down street a ways and stopped. In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, but not on his horse. He was a-reeling across the street towards me, bare-headed, with a friend on both sides of him a-holt of his arms and hurrying him along. He was quiet, and looked uneasy; and he warn’t hanging back any, but was doing some of the hurrying himself. Somebody sings out:
+
+“Boggs!”
+
+I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel Sherburn. He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had a pistol raised in his right hand — not aiming it, but holding it out with the barrel tilted up towards the sky. The same second I see a young girl coming on the run, and two men with her. Boggs and the men turned round to see who called him, and when they see the pistol the men jumped to one side, and the pistol-barrel come down slow and steady to a level — both barrels cocked. Boggs throws up both of his hands and says, “O Lord, don’t shoot!” Bang! goes the first shot, and he staggers back, clawing at the air — bang! goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards onto the ground, heavy and solid, with his arms spread out. That young girl screamed out and comes rushing, and down she throws herself on her father, crying, and saying, “Oh, he’s killed him, he’s killed him!” The crowd closed up around them, and shouldered and jammed one another, with their necks stretched, trying to see, and people on the inside trying to shove them back and shouting, “Back, back! give him air, give him air!”
+
+Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol onto the ground, and turned around on his heels and walked off.
+
+They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing around just the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got a good place at the window, where I was close to him and could see in. They laid him on the floor and put one large Bible under his head, and opened another one and spread it on his breast; but they tore open his shirt first, and I seen where one of the bullets went in. He made about a dozen long gasps, his breast lifting the Bible up when he drawed in his breath, and letting it down again when he breathed it out — and after that he laid still; he was dead. Then they pulled his daughter away from him, screaming and crying, and took her off. She was about sixteen, and very sweet and gentle-looking, but awful pale and scared.
+
+Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scrouging and pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look, but people that had the places wouldn’t give them up, and folks behind them was saying all the time, “Say, now, you’ve looked enough, you fellows; ’tain’t right and ’tain’t fair for you to stay thar all the time, and never give nobody a chance; other folks has their rights as well as you.”
+
+There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybe there was going to be trouble. The streets was full, and everybody was excited. Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it happened, and there was a big crowd packed around each one of these fellows, stretching their necks and listening. One long, lanky man, with long hair and a big white fur stovepipe hat on the back of his head, and a crooked-handled cane, marked out the places on the ground where Boggs stood and where Sherburn stood, and the people following him around from one place to t’other and watching everything he done, and bobbing their heads to show they understood, and stooping a little and resting their hands on their thighs to watch him mark the places on the ground with his cane; and then he stood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had stood, frowning and having his hat-brim down over his eyes, and sung out, “Boggs!” and then fetched his cane down slow to a level, and says “Bang!” staggered backwards, says “Bang!” again, and fell down flat on his back. The people that had seen the thing said he done it perfect; said it was just exactly the way it all happened. Then as much as a dozen people got out their bottles and treated him.
+
+Well, by-and-by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched. In about a minute everybody was saying it; so away they went, mad and yelling, and snatching down every clothes-line they come to, to do the hanging with.
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+They swarmed up towards Sherburn’s house, a-whooping and raging like Injuns, and everything had to clear the way or get run over and tromped to mush, and it was awful to see. Children was heeling it ahead of the mob, screaming and trying to get out of the way; and every window along the road was full of women’s heads, and there was nigger boys in every tree, and bucks and wenches looking over every fence; and as soon as the mob would get nearly to them they would break and skaddle back out of reach. Lots of the women and girls was crying and taking on, scared most to death.
+
+They swarmed up in front of Sherburn’s palings as thick as they could jam together, and you couldn’t hear yourself think for the noise. It was a little twenty-foot yard. Some sung out “Tear down the fence! tear down the fence!” Then there was a racket of ripping and tearing and smashing, and down she goes, and the front wall of the crowd begins to roll in like a wave.
+
+Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch, with a double-barrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectly ca’m and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and the wave sucked back.
+
+Sherburn never said a word — just stood there, looking down. The stillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable. Sherburn run his eye slow along the crowd; and wherever it struck the people tried a little to out-gaze him, but they couldn’t; they dropped their eyes and looked sneaky. Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed; not the pleasant kind, but the kind that makes you feel like when you are eating bread that’s got sand in it.
+
+Then he says, slow and scornful:
+
+“The idea of you lynching anybody! It’s amusing. The idea of you thinking you had pluck enough to lynch a man! Because you’re brave enough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that come along here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay your hands on a man? Why, a man’s safe in the hands of ten thousand of your kind — as long as it’s daytime and you’re not behind him.
+
+“Do I know you? I know you clear through. I was born and raised in the South, and I’ve lived in the North; so I know the average all around. The average man’s a coward. In the North he lets anybody walk over him that wants to, and goes home and prays for a humble spirit to bear it. In the South one man all by himself, has stopped a stage full of men in the daytime, and robbed the lot. Your newspapers call you a brave people so much that you think you are braver than any other people — whereas you’re just as brave, and no braver. Why don’t your juries hang murderers? Because they’re afraid the man’s friends will shoot them in the back, in the dark — and it’s just what they would do.
+
+“So they always acquit; and then a man goes in the night, with a hundred masked cowards at his back and lynches the rascal. Your mistake is, that you didn’t bring a man with you; that’s one mistake, and the other is that you didn’t come in the dark and fetch your masks. You brought part of a man — Buck Harkness, there — and if you hadn’t had him to start you, you’d a taken it out in blowing.
+
+“You didn’t want to come. The average man don’t like trouble and danger. You don’t like trouble and danger. But if only half a man — like Buck Harkness, there — shouts ‘Lynch him! lynch him!’ you’re afraid to back down — afraid you’ll be found out to be what you are — cowards — and so you raise a yell, and hang yourselves on to that half-a-man’s coat-tail, and come raging up here, swearing what big things you’re going to do. The pitifulest thing out is a mob; that’s what an army is — a mob; they don’t fight with courage that’s born in them, but with courage that’s borrowed from their mass, and from their officers. But a mob without any man at the head of it is beneath pitifulness. Now the thing for you to do is to droop your tails and go home and crawl in a hole. If any real lynching’s going to be done, it will be done in the dark, Southern fashion; and when they come they’ll bring their masks, and fetch a man along. Now leave — and take your half-a-man with you” — tossing his gun up across his left arm and cocking it when he says this.
+
+The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and went tearing off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it after them, looking tolerable cheap. I could a staid if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to.
+
+I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchman went by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twenty-dollar gold piece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, because there ain’t no telling how soon you are going to need it, away from home and amongst strangers that way. You can’t be too careful. I ain’t opposed to spending money on circuses when there ain’t no other way, but there ain’t no use in wasting it on them.
+
+It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side by side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes nor stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and comfortable — there must a been twenty of them — and every lady with a lovely complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like a gang of real sure-enough queens, and dressed in clothes that cost millions of dollars, and just littered with diamonds. It was a powerful fine sight; I never see anything so lovely. And then one by one they got up and stood, and went a-weaving around the ring so gentle and wavy and graceful, the men looking ever so tall and airy and straight, with their heads bobbing and skimming along, away up there under the tent-roof, and every lady’s rose-leafy dress flapping soft and silky around her hips, and she looking like the most loveliest parasol.
+
+And then faster and faster they went, all of them dancing, first one foot out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more and more, and the ring-master going round and round the center-pole, cracking his whip and shouting “Hi! — hi!” and the clown cracking jokes behind him; and by-and-by all hands dropped the reins, and every lady put her knuckles on her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, and then how the horses did lean over and hump themselves! And so one after the other they all skipped off into the ring, and made the sweetest bow I ever see, and then scampered out, and everybody clapped their hands and went just about wild.
+
+Well, all through the circus they done the most astonishing things; and all the time that clown carried on so it most killed the people. The ring-master couldn’t ever say a word to him but he was back at him quick as a wink with the funniest things a body ever said; and how he ever could think of so many of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I couldn’t noway understand. Why, I couldn’t a thought of them in a year. And by-and-by a drunk man tried to get into the ring — said he wanted to ride; said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn’t listen, and the whole show come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so that stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, “Knock him down! throw him out!” and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ring-master he made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn’t be no disturbance, and if the man would promise he wouldn’t make no more trouble he would let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. So everybody laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute he was on, the horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, with two circus men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the drunk man hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every jump, and the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing till tears rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men could do, the horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, round and round the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging to his neck, with first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, and then t’other one on t’other side, and the people just crazy. It warn’t funny to me, though; I was all of a tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, a-reeling this way and that; and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood! and the horse a-going like a house afire too. He just stood up there, a-sailing around as easy and comfortable as if he warn’t ever drunk in his life — and then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling them. He shed them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether he shed seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, and dressed the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into that horse with his whip and made him fairly hum — and finally skipped off, and made his bow and danced off to the dressing-room, and everybody just a-howling with pleasure and astonishment.
+
+Then the ring-master he see how he had been fooled, and he was the sickest ring-master you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his own men! He had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let on to nobody. Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but I wouldn’t a been in that ring-master’s place, not for a thousand dollars. I don’t know; there may be bullier circuses than what that one was, but I never struck them yet. Anyways, it was plenty good enough for me; and wherever I run across it, it can have all of my custom every time.
+
+Well, that night we had our show; but there warn’t only about twelve people there — just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the time, and that made the duke mad; and everybody left, anyway, before the show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said these Arkansaw lunkheads couldn’t come up to Shakespeare; what they wanted was low comedy — and maybe something ruther worse than low comedy, he reckoned. He said he could size their style. So next morning he got some big sheets of wrapping paper and some black paint, and drawed off some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village. The bills said:
+
+AT THE COURT HOUSE! FOR 3 NIGHTS ONLY! The World-Renowned Tragedians DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER! AND EDMUND KEAN THE ELDER! Of the London and Continental Theatres, In their Thrilling Tragedy of THE KING’S CAMELOPARD OR THE ROYAL NONESUCH!!! Admission 50 cents.
+
+Then at the bottom was the biggest line of all — which said:
+
+LADIES AND CHILDREN NOT ADMITTED.
+
+“There,” says he, “if that line don’t fetch them, I dont know Arkansaw!”
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+Well, all day him and the king was hard at it, rigging up a stage and a curtain and a row of candles for footlights; and that night the house was jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn’t hold no more, the duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on to the stage and stood up before the curtain and made a little speech, and praised up this tragedy, and said it was the most thrillingest one that ever was; and so he went on a-bragging about the tragedy, and about Edmund Kean the Elder, which was to play the main principal part in it; and at last when he’d got everybody’s expectations up high enough, he rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come a-prancing out on all fours, naked; and he was painted all over, ring-streaked-and-striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a rainbow. And — but never mind the rest of his outfit; it was just wild, but it was awful funny. The people most killed themselves laughing; and when the king got done capering and capered off behind the scenes, they roared and clapped and stormed and haw-hawed till he come back and done it over again, and after that they made him do it another time. Well, it would make a cow laugh to see the shines that old idiot cut.
+
+Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come and see it.
+
+Twenty people sings out:
+
+“What, is it over? Is that all?”
+
+The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, “Sold!” and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts:
+
+“Hold on! Just a word, gentlemen.” They stopped to listen. “We are sold — mighty badly sold. But we don’t want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long as we live. No. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this show up, and sell the rest of the town! Then we’ll all be in the same boat. Ain’t that sensible?” (“You bet it is! — the jedge is right!” everybody sings out.) “All right, then — not a word about any sell. Go along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy.”
+
+Next day you couldn’t hear nothing around that town but how splendid that show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all had a supper; and by-and-by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and hide her about two mile below town.
+
+The third night the house was crammed again — and they warn’t new-comers this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat — and I see it warn’t no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me; I couldn’t stand it. Well, when the place couldn’t hold no more people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him; but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says:
+
+“Walk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!”
+
+I done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, and says:
+
+“Well, how’d the old thing pan out this time, duke?”
+
+He hadn’t been up town at all.
+
+We never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed their bones loose over the way they’d served them people. The duke says:
+
+“Greenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they’d lay for us the third night, and consider it was their turn now. Well, it is their turn, and I’d give something to know how much they’d take for it. I would just like to know how they’re putting in their opportunity. They can turn it into a picnic if they want to — they brought plenty provisions.”
+
+Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before. By-and-by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says:
+
+“Don’t it s’prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?”
+
+“No,” I says, “it don’t.”
+
+“Why don’t it, Huck?”
+
+“Well, it don’t, because it’s in the breed. I reckon they’re all alike.”
+
+“But, Huck, dese kings o’ ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat’s jist what dey is; dey’s reglar rapscallions.”
+
+“Well, that’s what I’m a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.”
+
+“Is dat so?”
+
+“You read about them once — you’ll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this’n ’s a Sunday-school Superintendent to him. And look at Charles Second, and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. ‘Fetch up Nell Gwynn,’ he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, ‘Chop off her head!’ And they chop it off. ‘Fetch up Jane Shore,’ he says; and up she comes, Next morning, ‘Chop off her head’ — and they chop it off. ‘Ring up Fair Rosamun.’ Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, ‘Chop off her head.’ And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book — which was a good name and stated the case. You don’t know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I’ve struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it — give notice? — give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style — he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? No — drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S’pose people left money laying around where he was — what did he do? He collared it. S’pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn’t set down there and see that he done it — what did he do? He always done the other thing. S’pose he opened his mouth — what then? If he didn’t shut it up powerful quick he’d lose a lie every time. That’s the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we’d a had him along ’stead of our kings he’d a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don’t say that ourn is lambs, because they ain’t, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain’t nothing to that old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they’re a mighty ornery lot. It’s the way they’re raised.”
+
+“But dis one do smell so like de nation, Huck.”
+
+“Well, they all do, Jim. We can’t help the way a king smells; history don’t tell no way.”
+
+“Now de duke, he’s a tolerble likely man in some ways.”
+
+“Yes, a duke’s different. But not very different. This one’s a middling hard lot for a duke. When he’s drunk, there ain’t no near-sighted man could tell him from a king.”
+
+“Well, anyways, I doan’ hanker for no mo’ un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin stan’.”
+
+“It’s the way I feel, too, Jim. But we’ve got them on our hands, and we got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we could hear of a country that’s out of kings.”
+
+What was the use to tell Jim these warn’t real kings and dukes? It wouldn’t a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you couldn’t tell them from the real kind.
+
+I went to sleep, and Jim didn’t call me when it was my turn. He often done that. When I waked up just at daybreak, he was sitting there with his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I didn’t take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low and homesick; because he hadn’t ever been away from home before in his life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white folks does for their’n. It don’t seem natural, but I reckon it’s so. He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was asleep, and saying, “Po’ little ’Lizabeth! po’ little Johnny! it’s mighty hard; I spec’ I ain’t ever gwyne to see you no mo’, no mo’!” He was a mighty good nigger, Jim was.
+
+But this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young ones; and by-and-by he says:
+
+“What makes me feel so bad dis time ’uz bekase I hear sumpn over yonder on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time I treat my little ’Lizabeth so ornery. She warn’t on’y ’bout fo’ year ole, en she tuck de sk’yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell; but she got well, en one day she was a-stannin’ aroun’, en I says to her, I says:
+
+“‘Shet de do’.’
+
+“She never done it; jis’ stood dah, kiner smilin’ up at me. It make me mad; en I says agin, mighty loud, I says:
+
+“‘Doan’ you hear me? — shet de do’!’
+
+“She jis stood de same way, kiner smilin’ up. I was a-bilin’! I says:
+
+“‘I lay I make you mine!’
+
+“En wid dat I fetch’ her a slap side de head dat sont her a-sprawlin’. Den I went into de yuther room, en ’uz gone ’bout ten minutes; en when I come back dah was dat do’ a-stannin’ open yit, en dat chile stannin’ mos’ right in it, a-lookin’ down and mournin’, en de tears runnin’ down. My, but I wuz mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but jis’ den — it was a do’ dat open innerds — jis’ den, ’long come de wind en slam it to, behine de chile, ker-blam! — en my lan’, de chile never move’! My breff mos’ hop outer me; en I feel so — so — I doan’ know how I feel. I crope out, all a-tremblin’, en crope aroun’ en open de do’ easy en slow, en poke my head in behine de chile, sof’ en still, en all uv a sudden I says pow! jis’ as loud as I could yell. She never budge! Oh, Huck, I bust out a-cryin’ en grab her up in my arms, en say, ‘Oh, de po’ little thing! De Lord God Amighty fogive po’ ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive hisself as long’s he live!’ Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en dumb — en I’d ben a-treat’n her so!”
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+Next day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow tow-head out in the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river, and the duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working them towns. Jim he spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn’t take but a few hours, because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him when he had to lay all day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, when we left him all alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happened on to him all by himself and not tied it wouldn’t look much like he was a runaway nigger, you know. So the duke said it was kind of hard to have to lay roped all day, and he’d cipher out some way to get around it.
+
+He was uncommon bright, the duke was, and he soon struck it. He dressed Jim up in King Lear’s outfit — it was a long curtain-calico gown, and a white horse-hair wig and whiskers; and then he took his theater paint and painted Jim’s face and hands and ears and neck all over a dead, dull, solid blue, like a man that’s been drownded nine days. Blamed if he warn’t the horriblest looking outrage I ever see. Then the duke took and wrote out a sign on a shingle so:
+
+Sick Arab — but harmless when not out of his head.
+
+And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four or five foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was a sight better than lying tied a couple of years every day, and trembling all over every time there was a sound. The duke told him to make himself free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around, he must hop out of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howl or two like a wild beast, and he reckoned they would light out and leave him alone. Which was sound enough judgment; but you take the average man, and he wouldn’t wait for him to howl. Why, he didn’t only look like he was dead, he looked considerable more than that.
+
+These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there was so much money in it, but they judged it wouldn’t be safe, because maybe the news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn’t hit no project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said he reckoned he’d lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn’t put up something on the Arkansaw village; and the king he allowed he would drop over to t’other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence to lead him the profitable way — meaning the devil, I reckon. We had all bought store clothes where we stopped last; and now the king put his’n on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king’s duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked like the orneriest old rip that ever was; but now, when he’d take off his new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand and good and pious that you’d say he had walked right out of the ark, and maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away up under the point, about three mile above the town — been there a couple of hours, taking on freight. Says the king:
+
+“Seein’ how I’m dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, Huckleberry; we’ll come down to the village on her.”
+
+I didn’t have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a couple of big carpet-bags by him.
+
+“Run her nose in shore,” says the king. I done it. “Wher’ you bound for, young man?”
+
+“For the steamboat; going to Orleans.”
+
+“Git aboard,” says the king. “Hold on a minute, my servant ’ll he’p you with them bags. Jump out and he’p the gentleman, Adolphus” — meaning me, I see.
+
+I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he’d come down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The young fellow says:
+
+“When I first see you I says to myself, ‘It’s Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.’ But then I says again, ‘No, I reckon it ain’t him, or else he wouldn’t be paddling up the river.’ You ain’t him, are you?”
+
+“No, my name’s Blodgett — Elexander Blodgett — Reverend Elexander Blodgett, I s’pose I must say, as I’m one o’ the Lord’s poor servants. But still I’m jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving in time, all the same, if he’s missed anything by it — which I hope he hasn’t.”
+
+“Well, he don’t miss any property by it, because he’ll get that all right; but he’s missed seeing his brother Peter die — which he mayn’t mind, nobody can tell as to that — but his brother would a give anything in this world to see him before he died; never talked about nothing else all these three weeks; hadn’t seen him since they was boys together — and hadn’t ever seen his brother William at all — that’s the deef and dumb one — William ain’t more than thirty or thirty-five. Peter and George were the only ones that come out here; George was the married brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William’s the only ones that’s left now; and, as I was saying, they haven’t got here in time.”
+
+“Did anybody send ’em word?”
+
+“Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn’t going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George’s g’yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn’t seem to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey — and William, too, for that matter — because he was one of them kind that can’t bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he’d told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property divided up so George’s g’yirls would be all right — for George didn’t leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen to.”
+
+“Why do you reckon Harvey don’t come? Wher’ does he live?”
+
+“Oh, he lives in England — Sheffield — preaches there — hasn’t ever been in this country. He hasn’t had any too much time — and besides he mightn’t a got the letter at all, you know.”
+
+“Too bad, too bad he couldn’t a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. You going to Orleans, you say?”
+
+“Yes, but that ain’t only a part of it. I’m going in a ship, next Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives.”
+
+“It’s a pretty long journey. But it’ll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?”
+
+“Mary Jane’s nineteen, Susan’s fifteen, and Joanna’s about fourteen — that’s the one that gives herself to good works and has a hare-lip.”
+
+“Poor things! to be left alone in the cold world so.”
+
+“Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain’t going to let them come to no harm. There’s Hobson, the Babtis’ preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley, and — well, there’s a lot of them; but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote home; so Harvey ’ll know where to look for friends when he gets here.”
+
+Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied that young fellow. Blamed if he didn’t inquire about everybody and everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about Peter’s business — which was a tanner; and about George’s — which was a carpenter; and about Harvey’s — which was a dissentering minister; and so on, and so on. Then he says:
+
+“What did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?”
+
+“Because she’s a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn’t stop there. When they’re deep they won’t stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat will, but this is a St. Louis one.”
+
+“Was Peter Wilks well off?”
+
+“Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it’s reckoned he left three or four thousand in cash hid up som’ers.”
+
+“When did you say he died?”
+
+“I didn’t say, but it was last night.”
+
+“Funeral to-morrow, likely?”
+
+“Yes, ’bout the middle of the day.”
+
+“Well, it’s all terrible sad; but we’ve all got to go, one time or another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we’re all right.”
+
+“Yes, sir, it’s the best way. Ma used to always say that.”
+
+When we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says:
+
+“Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new carpet-bags. And if he’s gone over to t’other side, go over there and git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now.”
+
+I see what he was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When I got back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a log, and the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had said it — every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it he tried to talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, for a slouch. I can’t imitate him, and so I ain’t a-going to try to; but he really done it pretty good. Then he says:
+
+“How are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?”
+
+The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a steamboat.
+
+About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, but they didn’t come from high enough up the river; but at last there was a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and said they wouldn’t land us. But the king was ca’m. He says:
+
+“If gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry ’em, can’t it?”
+
+So they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says:
+
+“Kin any of you gentlemen tell me wher’ Mr. Peter Wilks lives?” they give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, “What d’ I tell you?” Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle:
+
+“I’m sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.”
+
+Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:
+
+“Alas, alas, our poor brother — gone, and we never got to see him; oh, it’s too, too hard!”
+
+Then he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to the duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn’t drop a carpet-bag and bust out a-crying. If they warn’t the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I struck.
+
+Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all sorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpet-bags up the hill for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about his brother’s last moments, and the king he told it all over again on his hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead tanner like they’d lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I struck anything like it, I’m a nigger. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race.
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+The news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see the people tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on their coats as they come. Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, and the noise of the tramping was like a soldier march. The windows and dooryards was full; and every minute somebody would say, over a fence:
+
+“Is it them?”
+
+And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say:
+
+“You bet it is.”
+
+When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the three girls was standing in the door. Mary Jane was red-headed, but that don’t make no difference, she was most awful beautiful, and her face and her eyes was all lit up like glory, she was so glad her uncles was come. The king he spread his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for them, and the hare-lip jumped for the duke, and there they had it! Everybody most, leastways women, cried for joy to see them meet again at last and have such good times.
+
+Then the king he hunched the duke private — I see him do it — and then he looked around and see the coffin, over in the corner on two chairs; so then him and the duke, with a hand across each other’s shoulder, and t’other hand to their eyes, walked slow and solemn over there, everybody dropping back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, people saying “Sh!” and all the men taking their hats off and drooping their heads, so you could a heard a pin fall. And when they got there they bent over and looked in the coffin, and took one sight, and then they bust out a-crying so you could a heard them to Orleans, most; and then they put their arms around each other’s necks, and hung their chins over each other’s shoulders; and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I never see two men leak the way they done. And, mind you, everybody was doing the same; and the place was that damp I never see anything like it. Then one of them got on one side of the coffin, and t’other on t’other side, and they kneeled down and rested their foreheads on the coffin, and let on to pray all to themselves. Well, when it come to that it worked the crowd like you never see anything like it, and everybody broke down and went to sobbing right out loud — the poor girls, too; and every woman, nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a word, and kissed them, solemn, on the forehead, and then put their hand on their head, and looked up towards the sky, with the tears running down, and then busted out and went off sobbing and swabbing, and give the next woman a show. I never see anything so disgusting.
+
+Well, by-and-by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and works himself up and slobbers out a speech, all full of tears and flapdoodle about its being a sore trial for him and his poor brother to lose the diseased, and to miss seeing diseased alive after the long journey of four thousand mile, but it’s a trial that’s sweetened and sanctified to us by this dear sympathy and these holy tears, and so he thanks them out of his heart and out of his brother’s heart, because out of their mouths they can’t, words being too weak and cold, and all that kind of rot and slush, till it was just sickening; and then he blubbers out a pious goody-goody Amen, and turns himself loose and goes to crying fit to bust.
+
+And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the crowd struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their might, and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church letting out. Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and hogwash I never see it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and bully.
+
+Then the king begins to work his jaw again, and says how him and his nieces would be glad if a few of the main principal friends of the family would take supper here with them this evening, and help set up with the ashes of the diseased; and says if his poor brother laying yonder could speak he knows who he would name, for they was names that was very dear to him, and mentioned often in his letters; and so he will name the same, to wit, as follows, vizz.: — Rev. Mr. Hobson, and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Mr. Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley.
+
+Rev. Hobson and Dr. Robinson was down to the end of the town a-hunting together — that is, I mean the doctor was shipping a sick man to t’other world, and the preacher was pinting him right. Lawyer Bell was away up to Louisville on business. But the rest was on hand, and so they all come and shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him; and then they shook hands with the duke and didn’t say nothing, but just kept a-smiling and bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst he made all sorts of signs with his hands and said “Goo-goo — goo-goo-goo” all the time, like a baby that can’t talk.
+
+So the king he blattered along, and managed to inquire about pretty much everybody and dog in town, by his name, and mentioned all sorts of little things that happened one time or another in the town, or to George’s family, or to Peter. And he always let on that Peter wrote him the things; but that was a lie: he got every blessed one of them out of that young flathead that we canoed up to the steamboat.
+
+Then Mary Jane she fetched the letter her father left behind, and the king he read it out loud and cried over it. It give the dwelling-house and three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls; and it give the tanyard (which was doing a good business), along with some other houses and land (worth about seven thousand), and three thousand dollars in gold to Harvey and William, and told where the six thousand cash was hid down cellar. So these two frauds said they’d go and fetch it up, and have everything square and above-board; and told me to come with a candle. We shut the cellar door behind us, and when they found the bag they spilt it out on the floor, and it was a lovely sight, all them yaller-boys. My, the way the king’s eyes did shine! He slaps the duke on the shoulder and says:
+
+“Oh, this ain’t bully nor noth’n! Oh, no, I reckon not! Why, Bilji, it beats the Nonesuch, don’t it?”
+
+The duke allowed it did. They pawed the yaller-boys, and sifted them through their fingers and let them jingle down on the floor; and the king says:
+
+“It ain’t no use talkin’; bein’ brothers to a rich dead man and representatives of furrin heirs that’s got left is the line for you and me, Bilge. Thish yer comes of trust’n to Providence. It’s the best way, in the long run. I’ve tried ’em all, and ther’ ain’t no better way.”
+
+Most everybody would a been satisfied with the pile, and took it on trust; but no, they must count it. So they counts it, and it comes out four hundred and fifteen dollars short. Says the king:
+
+“Dern him, I wonder what he done with that four hundred and fifteen dollars?”
+
+They worried over that awhile, and ransacked all around for it. Then the duke says:
+
+“Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he made a mistake — I reckon that’s the way of it. The best way’s to let it go, and keep still about it. We can spare it.”
+
+“Oh, shucks, yes, we can spare it. I don’t k’yer noth’n ’bout that — it’s the count I’m thinkin’ about. We want to be awful square and open and above-board here, you know. We want to lug this h-yer money up stairs and count it before everybody — then ther’ ain’t noth’n suspicious. But when the dead man says ther’s six thous’n dollars, you know, we don’t want to — ”
+
+“Hold on,” says the duke. “Le’s make up the deffisit,” and he begun to haul out yaller-boys out of his pocket.
+
+“It’s a most amaz’n’ good idea, duke — you have got a rattlin’ clever head on you,” says the king. “Blest if the old Nonesuch ain’t a heppin’ us out agin,” and he begun to haul out yaller-jackets and stack them up.
+
+It most busted them, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear.
+
+“Say,” says the duke, “I got another idea. Le’s go up stairs and count this money, and then take and give it to the girls.”
+
+“Good land, duke, lemme hug you! It’s the most dazzling idea ’at ever a man struck. You have cert’nly got the most astonishin’ head I ever see. Oh, this is the boss dodge, ther’ ain’t no mistake ’bout it. Let ’em fetch along their suspicions now if they want to — this’ll lay ’em out.”
+
+When we got up-stairs everybody gethered around the table, and the king he counted it and stacked it up, three hundred dollars in a pile — twenty elegant little piles. Everybody looked hungry at it, and licked their chops. Then they raked it into the bag again, and I see the king begin to swell himself up for another speech. He says:
+
+“Friends all, my poor brother that lays yonder has done generous by them that’s left behind in the vale of sorrers. He has done generous by these yer poor little lambs that he loved and sheltered, and that’s left fatherless and motherless. Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he would a done more generous by ’em if he hadn’t ben afeard o’ woundin’ his dear William and me. Now, wouldn’t he? Ther’ ain’t no question ’bout it in my mind. Well, then, what kind o’ brothers would it be that ’d stand in his way at sech a time? And what kind o’ uncles would it be that ’d rob — yes, rob — sech poor sweet lambs as these ’at he loved so at sech a time? If I know William — and I think I do — he — well, I’ll jest ask him.” He turns around and begins to make a lot of signs to the duke with his hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid and leather-headed a while; then all of a sudden he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the king, goo-gooing with all his might for joy, and hugs him about fifteen times before he lets up. Then the king says, “I knowed it; I reckon that’ll convince anybody the way he feels about it. Here, Mary Jane, Susan, Joanner, take the money — take it all. It’s the gift of him that lays yonder, cold but joyful.”
+
+Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the hare-lip went for the duke, and then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet. And everybody crowded up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off of them frauds, saying all the time:
+
+“You dear good souls! — how lovely! — how could you!”
+
+Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that; and before long a big iron-jawed man worked himself in there from outside, and stood a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was all busy listening. The king was saying — in the middle of something he’d started in on — 
+
+“ — they bein’ partickler friends o’ the diseased. That’s why they’re invited here this evenin’; but tomorrow we want all to come — everybody; for he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it’s fitten that his funeral orgies sh’d be public.”
+
+And so he went a-mooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke he couldn’t stand it no more; so he writes on a little scrap of paper, “obsequies, you old fool,” and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and reaching it over people’s heads to him. The king he reads it and puts it in his pocket, and says:
+
+“Poor William, afflicted as he is, his heart’s aluz right. Asks me to invite everybody to come to the funeral — wants me to make ’em all welcome. But he needn’t a worried — it was jest what I was at.”
+
+Then he weaves along again, perfectly ca’m, and goes to dropping in his funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before. And when he done it the third time he says:
+
+“I say orgies, not because it’s the common term, because it ain’t — obsequies bein’ the common term — but because orgies is the right term. Obsequies ain’t used in England no more now — it’s gone out. We say orgies now in England. Orgies is better, because it means the thing you’re after more exact. It’s a word that’s made up out’n the Greek orgo, outside, open, abroad; and the Hebrew jeesum, to plant, cover up; hence inter. So, you see, funeral orgies is an open er public funeral.”
+
+He was the worst I ever struck. Well, the iron-jawed man he laughed right in his face. Everybody was shocked. Everybody says, “Why, doctor!” and Abner Shackleford says:
+
+“Why, Robinson, hain’t you heard the news? This is Harvey Wilks.”
+
+The king he smiled eager, and shoved out his flapper, and says:
+
+“Is it my poor brother’s dear good friend and physician? I — ”
+
+“Keep your hands off of me!” says the doctor. “You talk like an Englishman, don’t you? It’s the worst imitation I ever heard. You Peter Wilks’s brother! You’re a fraud, that’s what you are!”
+
+Well, how they all took on! They crowded around the doctor and tried to quiet him down, and tried to explain to him and tell him how Harvey ’d showed in forty ways that he was Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, and the names of the very dogs, and begged and begged him not to hurt Harvey’s feelings and the poor girl’s feelings, and all that. But it warn’t no use; he stormed right along, and said any man that pretended to be an Englishman and couldn’t imitate the lingo no better than what he did was a fraud and a liar. The poor girls was hanging to the king and crying; and all of a sudden the doctor ups and turns on them. He says:
+
+“I was your father’s friend, and I’m your friend; and I warn you as a friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you out of harm and trouble, to turn your backs on that scoundrel and have nothing to do with him, the ignorant tramp, with his idiotic Greek and Hebrew, as he calls it. He is the thinnest kind of an impostor — has come here with a lot of empty names and facts which he picked up somewheres, and you take them for proofs, and are helped to fool yourselves by these foolish friends here, who ought to know better. Mary Jane Wilks, you know me for your friend, and for your unselfish friend, too. Now listen to me; turn this pitiful rascal out — I beg you to do it. Will you?”
+
+Mary Jane straightened herself up, and my, but she was handsome! She says:
+
+“Here is my answer.” She hove up the bag of money and put it in the king’s hands, and says, “Take this six thousand dollars, and invest for me and my sisters any way you want to, and don’t give us no receipt for it.”
+
+Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the hare-lip done the same on the other. Everybody clapped their hands and stomped on the floor like a perfect storm, whilst the king held up his head and smiled proud. The doctor says:
+
+“All right; I wash my hands of the matter. But I warn you all that a time ’s coming when you’re going to feel sick whenever you think of this day.” And away he went.
+
+“All right, doctor,” says the king, kinder mocking him; “we’ll try and get ’em to send for you;” which made them all laugh, and they said it was a prime good hit.
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+Well, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off for spare rooms, and she said she had one spare room, which would do for Uncle William, and she’d give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was a little bigger, and she would turn into the room with her sisters and sleep on a cot; and up garret was a little cubby, with a pallet in it. The king said the cubby would do for his valley — meaning me.
+
+So Mary Jane took us up, and she showed them their rooms, which was plain but nice. She said she’d have her frocks and a lot of other traps took out of her room if they was in Uncle Harvey’s way, but he said they warn’t. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them was a curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was an old hair trunk in one corner, and a guitar-box in another, and all sorts of little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room with. The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for these fixings, and so don’t disturb them. The duke’s room was pretty small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby.
+
+That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, and I stood behind the king and the duke’s chairs and waited on them, and the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried chickens was — and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, and said so — said “How do you get biscuits to brown so nice?” and “Where, for the land’s sake, did you get these amaz’n pickles?” and all that kind of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a supper, you know.
+
+And when it was all done me and the hare-lip had supper in the kitchen off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up the things. The hare-lip she got to pumping me about England, and blest if I didn’t think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes. She says:
+
+“Did you ever see the king?”
+
+“Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have — he goes to our church.” I knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he goes to our church, she says:
+
+“What — regular?”
+
+“Yes — regular. His pew’s right over opposite ourn — on t’other side the pulpit.”
+
+“I thought he lived in London?”
+
+“Well, he does. Where would he live?”
+
+“But I thought you lived in Sheffield?”
+
+I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I says:
+
+“I mean he goes to our church regular when he’s in Sheffield. That’s only in the summer time, when he comes there to take the sea baths.”
+
+“Why, how you talk — Sheffield ain’t on the sea.”
+
+“Well, who said it was?”
+
+“Why, you did.”
+
+“I didn’t nuther.”
+
+“You did!”
+
+“I didn’t.”
+
+“You did.”
+
+“I never said nothing of the kind.”
+
+“Well, what did you say, then?”
+
+“Said he come to take the sea baths — that’s what I said.”
+
+“Well, then, how’s he going to take the sea baths if it ain’t on the sea?”
+
+“Looky here,” I says; “did you ever see any Congress-water?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?”
+
+“Why, no.”
+
+“Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea bath.”
+
+“How does he get it, then?”
+
+“Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water — in barrels. There in the palace at Sheffield they’ve got furnaces, and he wants his water hot. They can’t bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. They haven’t got no conveniences for it.”
+
+“Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved time.”
+
+When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was comfortable and glad. Next, she says:
+
+“Do you go to church, too?”
+
+“Yes — regular.”
+
+“Where do you set?”
+
+“Why, in our pew.”
+
+“Whose pew?”
+
+“Why, ourn — your Uncle Harvey’s.”
+
+“His’n? What does he want with a pew?”
+
+“Wants it to set in. What did you reckon he wanted with it?”
+
+“Why, I thought he’d be in the pulpit.”
+
+Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says:
+
+“Blame it, do you suppose there ain’t but one preacher to a church?”
+
+“Why, what do they want with more?”
+
+“What! — to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. They don’t have no less than seventeen.”
+
+“Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn’t set out such a string as that, not if I never got to glory. It must take ’em a week.”
+
+“Shucks, they don’t all of ’em preach the same day — only one of ’em.”
+
+“Well, then, what does the rest of ’em do?”
+
+“Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate — and one thing or another. But mainly they don’t do nothing.”
+
+“Well, then, what are they for?”
+
+“Why, they’re for style. Don’t you know nothing?”
+
+“Well, I don’t want to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants treated in England? Do they treat ’em better ’n we treat our niggers?”
+
+“No! A servant ain’t nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs.”
+
+“Don’t they give ’em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year’s week, and Fourth of July?”
+
+“Oh, just listen! A body could tell you hain’t ever been to England by that. Why, Hare-l — why, Joanna, they never see a holiday from year’s end to year’s end; never go to the circus, nor theater, nor nigger shows, nor nowheres.”
+
+“Nor church?”
+
+“Nor church.”
+
+“But you always went to church.”
+
+Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man’s servant. But next minute I whirled in on a kind of an explanation how a valley was different from a common servant and had to go to church whether he wanted to or not, and set with the family, on account of its being the law. But I didn’t do it pretty good, and when I got done I see she warn’t satisfied. She says:
+
+“Honest injun, now, hain’t you been telling me a lot of lies?”
+
+“Honest injun,” says I.
+
+“None of it at all?”
+
+“None of it at all. Not a lie in it,” says I.
+
+“Lay your hand on this book and say it.”
+
+I see it warn’t nothing but a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and said it. So then she looked a little better satisfied, and says:
+
+“Well, then, I’ll believe some of it; but I hope to gracious if I’ll believe the rest.”
+
+“What is it you won’t believe, Joe?” says Mary Jane, stepping in with Susan behind her. “It ain’t right nor kind for you to talk so to him, and him a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be treated so?”
+
+“That’s always your way, Maim — always sailing in to help somebody before they’re hurt. I hain’t done nothing to him. He’s told some stretchers, I reckon, and I said I wouldn’t swallow it all; and that’s every bit and grain I did say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like that, can’t he?”
+
+“I don’t care whether ’twas little or whether ’twas big; he’s here in our house and a stranger, and it wasn’t good of you to say it. If you was in his place it would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn’t to say a thing to another person that will make them feel ashamed.”
+
+“Why, Mam, he said — ”
+
+“It don’t make no difference what he said — that ain’t the thing. The thing is for you to treat him kind, and not be saying things to make him remember he ain’t in his own country and amongst his own folks.”
+
+I says to myself, this is a girl that I’m letting that old reptile rob her of her money!
+
+Then Susan she waltzed in; and if you’ll believe me, she did give Hare-lip hark from the tomb!
+
+Says I to myself, and this is another one that I’m letting him rob her of her money!
+
+Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely again — which was her way; but when she got done there warn’t hardly anything left o’ poor Hare-lip. So she hollered.
+
+“All right, then,” says the other girls; “you just ask his pardon.”
+
+She done it, too; and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it was good to hear; and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she could do it again.
+
+I says to myself, this is another one that I’m letting him rob her of her money. And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves out to make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends. I felt so ornery and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind’s made up; I’ll hive that money for them or bust.
+
+So then I lit out — for bed, I said, meaning some time or another. When I got by myself I went to thinking the thing over. I says to myself, shall I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds? No — that won’t do. He might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would make it warm for me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? No — I dasn’t do it. Her face would give them a hint, sure; they’ve got the money, and they’d slide right out and get away with it. If she was to fetch in help I’d get mixed up in the business before it was done with, I judge. No; there ain’t no good way but one. I got to steal that money, somehow; and I got to steal it some way that they won’t suspicion that I done it. They’ve got a good thing here, and they ain’t a-going to leave till they’ve played this family and this town for all they’re worth, so I’ll find a chance time enough. I’ll steal it and hide it; and by-and-by, when I’m away down the river, I’ll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where it’s hid. But I better hive it tonight if I can, because the doctor maybe hasn’t let up as much as he lets on he has; he might scare them out of here yet.
+
+So, thinks I, I’ll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was dark, but I found the duke’s room, and started to paw around it with my hands; but I recollected it wouldn’t be much like the king to let anybody else take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn’t do nothing without a candle, and I dasn’t light one, of course. So I judged I’d got to do the other thing — lay for them and eavesdrop. About that time I hears their footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed; I reached for it, but it wasn’t where I thought it would be; but I touched the curtain that hid Mary Jane’s frocks, so I jumped in behind that and snuggled in amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still.
+
+They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn’t found the bed when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it’s kind of natural to hide under the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and the king says:
+
+“Well, what is it? And cut it middlin’ short, because it’s better for us to be down there a-whoopin’ up the mournin’ than up here givin’ ’em a chance to talk us over.”
+
+“Well, this is it, Capet. I ain’t easy; I ain’t comfortable. That doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I’ve got a notion, and I think it’s a sound one.”
+
+“What is it, duke?”
+
+“That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip it down the river with what we’ve got. Specially, seeing we got it so easy — given back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of course we allowed to have to steal it back. I’m for knocking off and lighting out.”
+
+That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed, The king rips out and says:
+
+“What! And not sell out the rest o’ the property? March off like a passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous’n’ dollars’ worth o’ property layin’ around jest sufferin’ to be scooped in? — and all good, salable stuff, too.”
+
+The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn’t want to go no deeper — didn’t want to rob a lot of orphans of everything they had.
+
+“Why, how you talk!” says the king. “We sha’n’t rob ’em of nothing at all but jest this money. The people that buys the property is the suff’rers; because as soon ’s it’s found out ’at we didn’t own it — which won’t be long after we’ve slid — the sale won’t be valid, and it’ll all go back to the estate. These yer orphans ’ll git their house back agin, and that’s enough for them; they’re young and spry, and k’n easy earn a livin’. They ain’t a-goin to suffer. Why, jest think — there’s thous’n’s and thous’n’s that ain’t nigh so well off. Bless you, they ain’t got noth’n’ to complain of.”
+
+Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all right, but said he believed it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that doctor hanging over them. But the king says:
+
+“Cuss the doctor! What do we k’yer for him? Hain’t we got all the fools in town on our side? And ain’t that a big enough majority in any town?”
+
+So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says:
+
+“I don’t think we put that money in a good place.”
+
+That cheered me up. I’d begun to think I warn’t going to get a hint of no kind to help me. The king says:
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because Mary Jane ’ll be in mourning from this out; and first you know the nigger that does up the rooms will get an order to box these duds up and put ’em away; and do you reckon a nigger can run across money and not borrow some of it?”
+
+“Your head’s level agin, duke,” says the king; and he comes a-fumbling under the curtain two or three foot from where I was. I stuck tight to the wall and kept mighty still, though quivery; and I wondered what them fellows would say to me if they catched me; and I tried to think what I’d better do if they did catch me. But the king he got the bag before I could think more than about a half a thought, and he never suspicioned I was around. They took and shoved the bag through a rip in the straw tick that was under the feather-bed, and crammed it in a foot or two amongst the straw and said it was all right now, because a nigger only makes up the feather-bed, and don’t turn over the straw tick only about twice a year, and so it warn’t in no danger of getting stole now.
+
+But I knowed better. I had it out of there before they was half-way down stairs. I groped along up to my cubby, and hid it there till I could get a chance to do better. I judged I better hide it outside of the house somewheres, because if they missed it they would give the house a good ransacking: I knowed that very well. Then I turned in, with my clothes all on; but I couldn’t a gone to sleep if I’d a wanted to, I was in such a sweat to get through with the business. By-and-by I heard the king and the duke come up; so I rolled off my pallet and laid with my chin at the top of my ladder, and waited to see if anything was going to happen. But nothing did.
+
+So I held on till all the late sounds had quit and the early ones hadn’t begun yet; and then I slipped down the ladder.
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+I crept to their doors and listened; they was snoring. So I tiptoed along, and got down stairs all right. There warn’t a sound anywheres. I peeped through a crack of the dining-room door, and see the men that was watching the corpse all sound asleep on their chairs. The door was open into the parlor, where the corpse was laying, and there was a candle in both rooms. I passed along, and the parlor door was open; but I see there warn’t nobody in there but the remainders of Peter; so I shoved on by; but the front door was locked, and the key wasn’t there. Just then I heard somebody coming down the stairs, back behind me. I run in the parlor and took a swift look around, and the only place I see to hide the bag was in the coffin. The lid was shoved along about a foot, showing the dead man’s face down in there, with a wet cloth over it, and his shroud on. I tucked the money-bag in under the lid, just down beyond where his hands was crossed, which made me creep, they was so cold, and then I run back across the room and in behind the door.
+
+The person coming was Mary Jane. She went to the coffin, very soft, and kneeled down and looked in; then she put up her handkerchief, and I see she begun to cry, though I couldn’t hear her, and her back was to me. I slid out, and as I passed the dining-room I thought I’d make sure them watchers hadn’t seen me; so I looked through the crack, and everything was all right. They hadn’t stirred.
+
+I slipped up to bed, feeling ruther blue, on accounts of the thing playing out that way after I had took so much trouble and run so much resk about it. Says I, if it could stay where it is, all right; because when we get down the river a hundred mile or two I could write back to Mary Jane, and she could dig him up again and get it; but that ain’t the thing that’s going to happen; the thing that’s going to happen is, the money ’ll be found when they come to screw on the lid. Then the king ’ll get it again, and it ’ll be a long day before he gives anybody another chance to smouch it from him. Of course I wanted to slide down and get it out of there, but I dasn’t try it. Every minute it was getting earlier now, and pretty soon some of them watchers would begin to stir, and I might get catched — catched with six thousand dollars in my hands that nobody hadn’t hired me to take care of. I don’t wish to be mixed up in no such business as that, I says to myself.
+
+When I got down stairs in the morning the parlor was shut up, and the watchers was gone. There warn’t nobody around but the family and the widow Bartley and our tribe. I watched their faces to see if anything had been happening, but I couldn’t tell.
+
+Towards the middle of the day the undertaker come with his man, and they set the coffin in the middle of the room on a couple of chairs, and then set all our chairs in rows, and borrowed more from the neighbors till the hall and the parlor and the dining-room was full. I see the coffin lid was the way it was before, but I dasn’t go to look in under it, with folks around.
+
+Then the people begun to flock in, and the beats and the girls took seats in the front row at the head of the coffin, and for a half an hour the people filed around slow, in single rank, and looked down at the dead man’s face a minute, and some dropped in a tear, and it was all very still and solemn, only the girls and the beats holding handkerchiefs to their eyes and keeping their heads bent, and sobbing a little. There warn’t no other sound but the scraping of the feet on the floor and blowing noses — because people always blows them more at a funeral than they do at other places except church.
+
+When the place was packed full the undertaker he slid around in his black gloves with his softy soothering ways, putting on the last touches, and getting people and things all ship-shape and comfortable, and making no more sound than a cat. He never spoke; he moved people around, he squeezed in late ones, he opened up passageways, and done it with nods, and signs with his hands. Then he took his place over against the wall. He was the softest, glidingest, stealthiest man I ever see; and there warn’t no more smile to him than there is to a ham.
+
+They had borrowed a melodeum — a sick one; and when everything was ready a young woman set down and worked it, and it was pretty skreeky and colicky, and everybody joined in and sung, and Peter was the only one that had a good thing, according to my notion. Then the Reverend Hobson opened up, slow and solemn, and begun to talk; and straight off the most outrageous row busted out in the cellar a body ever heard; it was only one dog, but he made a most powerful racket, and he kept it up right along; the parson he had to stand there, over the coffin, and wait — you couldn’t hear yourself think. It was right down awkward, and nobody didn’t seem to know what to do. But pretty soon they see that long-legged undertaker make a sign to the preacher as much as to say, “Don’t you worry — just depend on me.” Then he stooped down and begun to glide along the wall, just his shoulders showing over the people’s heads. So he glided along, and the powwow and racket getting more and more outrageous all the time; and at last, when he had gone around two sides of the room, he disappears down cellar. Then in about two seconds we heard a whack, and the dog he finished up with a most amazing howl or two, and then everything was dead still, and the parson begun his solemn talk where he left off. In a minute or two here comes this undertaker’s back and shoulders gliding along the wall again; and so he glided and glided around three sides of the room, and then rose up, and shaded his mouth with his hands, and stretched his neck out towards the preacher, over the people’s heads, and says, in a kind of a coarse whisper, “He had a rat!” Then he drooped down and glided along the wall again to his place. You could see it was a great satisfaction to the people, because naturally they wanted to know. A little thing like that don’t cost nothing, and it’s just the little things that makes a man to be looked up to and liked. There warn’t no more popular man in town than what that undertaker was.
+
+Well, the funeral sermon was very good, but pison long and tiresome; and then the king he shoved in and got off some of his usual rubbage, and at last the job was through, and the undertaker begun to sneak up on the coffin with his screw-driver. I was in a sweat then, and watched him pretty keen. But he never meddled at all; just slid the lid along as soft as mush, and screwed it down tight and fast. So there I was! I didn’t know whether the money was in there or not. So, says I, s’pose somebody has hogged that bag on the sly? — now how do I know whether to write to Mary Jane or not? S’pose she dug him up and didn’t find nothing, what would she think of me? Blame it, I says, I might get hunted up and jailed; I’d better lay low and keep dark, and not write at all; the thing’s awful mixed now; trying to better it, I’ve worsened it a hundred times, and I wish to goodness I’d just let it alone, dad fetch the whole business!
+
+They buried him, and we come back home, and I went to watching faces again — I couldn’t help it, and I couldn’t rest easy. But nothing come of it; the faces didn’t tell me nothing.
+
+The king he visited around in the evening, and sweetened everybody up, and made himself ever so friendly; and he give out the idea that his congregation over in England would be in a sweat about him, so he must hurry and settle up the estate right away and leave for home. He was very sorry he was so pushed, and so was everybody; they wished he could stay longer, but they said they could see it couldn’t be done. And he said of course him and William would take the girls home with them; and that pleased everybody too, because then the girls would be well fixed and amongst their own relations; and it pleased the girls, too — tickled them so they clean forgot they ever had a trouble in the world; and told him to sell out as quick as he wanted to, they would be ready. Them poor things was that glad and happy it made my heart ache to see them getting fooled and lied to so, but I didn’t see no safe way for me to chip in and change the general tune.
+
+Well, blamed if the king didn’t bill the house and the niggers and all the property for auction straight off — sale two days after the funeral; but anybody could buy private beforehand if they wanted to.
+
+So the next day after the funeral, along about noon-time, the girls’ joy got the first jolt. A couple of nigger traders come along, and the king sold them the niggers reasonable, for three-day drafts as they called it, and away they went, the two sons up the river to Memphis, and their mother down the river to Orleans. I thought them poor girls and them niggers would break their hearts for grief; they cried around each other, and took on so it most made me down sick to see it. The girls said they hadn’t ever dreamed of seeing the family separated or sold away from the town. I can’t ever get it out of my memory, the sight of them poor miserable girls and niggers hanging around each other’s necks and crying; and I reckon I couldn’t a stood it all, but would a had to bust out and tell on our gang if I hadn’t knowed the sale warn’t no account and the niggers would be back home in a week or two.
+
+The thing made a big stir in the town, too, and a good many come out flatfooted and said it was scandalous to separate the mother and the children that way. It injured the frauds some; but the old fool he bulled right along, spite of all the duke could say or do, and I tell you the duke was powerful uneasy.
+
+Next day was auction day. About broad day in the morning the king and the duke come up in the garret and woke me up, and I see by their look that there was trouble. The king says:
+
+“Was you in my room night before last?”
+
+“No, your majesty” — which was the way I always called him when nobody but our gang warn’t around.
+
+“Was you in there yisterday er last night?”
+
+“No, your majesty.”
+
+“Honor bright, now — no lies.”
+
+“Honor bright, your majesty, I’m telling you the truth. I hain’t been a-near your room since Miss Mary Jane took you and the duke and showed it to you.”
+
+The duke says:
+
+“Have you seen anybody else go in there?”
+
+“No, your grace, not as I remember, I believe.”
+
+“Stop and think.”
+
+I studied awhile and see my chance; then I says:
+
+“Well, I see the niggers go in there several times.”
+
+Both of them gave a little jump, and looked like they hadn’t ever expected it, and then like they had. Then the duke says:
+
+“What, all of them?”
+
+“No — leastways, not all at once — that is, I don’t think I ever see them all come out at once but just one time.”
+
+“Hello! When was that?”
+
+“It was the day we had the funeral. In the morning. It warn’t early, because I overslept. I was just starting down the ladder, and I see them.”
+
+“Well, go on, go on! What did they do? How’d they act?”
+
+“They didn’t do nothing. And they didn’t act anyway much, as fur as I see. They tiptoed away; so I seen, easy enough, that they’d shoved in there to do up your majesty’s room, or something, s’posing you was up; and found you warn’t up, and so they was hoping to slide out of the way of trouble without waking you up, if they hadn’t already waked you up.”
+
+“Great guns, this is a go!” says the king; and both of them looked pretty sick and tolerable silly. They stood there a-thinking and scratching their heads a minute, and the duke he bust into a kind of a little raspy chuckle, and says:
+
+“It does beat all how neat the niggers played their hand. They let on to be sorry they was going out of this region! And I believed they was sorry, and so did you, and so did everybody. Don’t ever tell me any more that a nigger ain’t got any histrionic talent. Why, the way they played that thing it would fool anybody. In my opinion, there’s a fortune in ’em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn’t want a better lay-out than that — and here we’ve gone and sold ’em for a song. Yes, and ain’t privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where is that song — that draft?”
+
+“In the bank for to be collected. Where would it be?”
+
+“Well, that’s all right then, thank goodness.”
+
+Says I, kind of timid-like:
+
+“Is something gone wrong?”
+
+The king whirls on me and rips out:
+
+“None o’ your business! You keep your head shet, and mind y’r own affairs — if you got any. Long as you’re in this town don’t you forgit that — you hear?” Then he says to the duke, “We got to jest swaller it and say noth’n’: mum’s the word for us.”
+
+As they was starting down the ladder the duke he chuckles again, and says:
+
+“Quick sales and small profits! It’s a good business — yes.”
+
+v
+
+The king snarls around on him and says:
+
+“I was trying to do for the best in sellin’ ’em out so quick. If the profits has turned out to be none, lackin’ considable, and none to carry, is it my fault any more’n it’s yourn?”
+
+“Well, they’d be in this house yet and we wouldn’t if I could a got my advice listened to.”
+
+The king sassed back as much as was safe for him, and then swapped around and lit into me again. He give me down the banks for not coming and telling him I see the niggers come out of his room acting that way — said any fool would a knowed something was up. And then waltzed in and cussed himself awhile, and said it all come of him not laying late and taking his natural rest that morning, and he’d be blamed if he’d ever do it again. So they went off a-jawing; and I felt dreadful glad I’d worked it all off on to the niggers, and yet hadn’t done the niggers no harm by it.
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+By-and-by it was getting-up time. So I come down the ladder and started for down-stairs; but as I come to the girls’ room the door was open, and I see Mary Jane setting by her old hair trunk, which was open and she’d been packing things in it — getting ready to go to England. But she had stopped now with a folded gown in her lap, and had her face in her hands, crying. I felt awful bad to see it; of course anybody would. I went in there and says:
+
+“Miss Mary Jane, you can’t a-bear to see people in trouble, and I can’t — most always. Tell me about it.”
+
+So she done it. And it was the niggers — I just expected it. She said the beautiful trip to England was most about spoiled for her; she didn’t know how she was ever going to be happy there, knowing the mother and the children warn’t ever going to see each other no more — and then busted out bitterer than ever, and flung up her hands, and says:
+
+“Oh, dear, dear, to think they ain’t ever going to see each other any more!”
+
+“But they will — and inside of two weeks — and I know it!” says I.
+
+Laws, it was out before I could think! And before I could budge she throws her arms around my neck and told me to say it again, say it again, say it again!
+
+I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close place. I asked her to let me think a minute; and she set there, very impatient and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and eased-up, like a person that’s had a tooth pulled out. So I went to studying it out. I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ain’t had no experience, and can’t say for certain; but it looks so to me, anyway; and yet here’s a case where I’m blest if it don’t look to me like the truth is better and actuly safer than a lie. I must lay it by in my mind, and think it over some time or other, it’s so kind of strange and unregular. I never see nothing like it. Well, I says to myself at last, I’m a-going to chance it; I’ll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see where you’ll go to. Then I says:
+
+“Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you could go and stay three or four days?”
+
+“Yes; Mr. Lothrop’s. Why?”
+
+“Never mind why yet. If I’ll tell you how I know the niggers will see each other again inside of two weeks — here in this house — and prove how I know it — will you go to Mr. Lothrop’s and stay four days?”
+
+“Four days!” she says; “I’ll stay a year!”
+
+“All right,” I says, “I don’t want nothing more out of you than just your word — I druther have it than another man’s kiss-the-Bible.” She smiled and reddened up very sweet, and I says, “If you don’t mind it, I’ll shut the door — and bolt it.”
+
+Then I come back and set down again, and says:
+
+“Don’t you holler. Just set still and take it like a man. I got to tell the truth, and you want to brace up, Miss Mary, because it’s a bad kind, and going to be hard to take, but there ain’t no help for it. These uncles of yourn ain’t no uncles at all; they’re a couple of frauds — regular dead-beats. There, now we’re over the worst of it, you can stand the rest middling easy.”
+
+It jolted her up like everything, of course; but I was over the shoal water now, so I went right along, her eyes a-blazing higher and higher all the time, and told her every blame thing, from where we first struck that young fool going up to the steamboat, clear through to where she flung herself on to the king’s breast at the front door and he kissed her sixteen or seventeen times — and then up she jumps, with her face afire like sunset, and says:
+
+“The brute! Come, don’t waste a minute — not a second — we’ll have them tarred and feathered, and flung in the river!”
+
+Says I:
+
+“Cert’nly. But do you mean before you go to Mr. Lothrop’s, or — ”
+
+“Oh,” she says, “what am I thinking about!” she says, and set right down again. “Don’t mind what I said — please don’t — you won’t, now, will you?” Laying her silky hand on mine in that kind of a way that I said I would die first. “I never thought, I was so stirred up,” she says; “now go on, and I won’t do so any more. You tell me what to do, and whatever you say I’ll do it.”
+
+“Well,” I says, “it’s a rough gang, them two frauds, and I’m fixed so I got to travel with them a while longer, whether I want to or not — I druther not tell you why; and if you was to blow on them this town would get me out of their claws, and I’d be all right; but there’d be another person that you don’t know about who’d be in big trouble. Well, we got to save him, hain’t we? Of course. Well, then, we won’t blow on them.”
+
+Saying them words put a good idea in my head. I see how maybe I could get me and Jim rid of the frauds; get them jailed here, and then leave. But I didn’t want to run the raft in the daytime without anybody aboard to answer questions but me; so I didn’t want the plan to begin working till pretty late to-night. I says:
+
+“Miss Mary Jane, I’ll tell you what we’ll do, and you won’t have to stay at Mr. Lothrop’s so long, nuther. How fur is it?”
+
+“A little short of four miles — right out in the country, back here.”
+
+“Well, that’ll answer. Now you go along out there, and lay low till nine or half-past to-night, and then get them to fetch you home again — tell them you’ve thought of something. If you get here before eleven put a candle in this window, and if I don’t turn up wait till eleven, and then if I don’t turn up it means I’m gone, and out of the way, and safe. Then you come out and spread the news around, and get these beats jailed.”
+
+“Good,” she says, “I’ll do it.”
+
+“And if it just happens so that I don’t get away, but get took up along with them, you must up and say I told you the whole thing beforehand, and you must stand by me all you can.”
+
+“Stand by you! indeed I will. They sha’n’t touch a hair of your head!” she says, and I see her nostrils spread and her eyes snap when she said it, too.
+
+“If I get away I sha’n’t be here,” I says, “to prove these rapscallions ain’t your uncles, and I couldn’t do it if I was here. I could swear they was beats and bummers, that’s all, though that’s worth something. Well, there’s others can do that better than what I can, and they’re people that ain’t going to be doubted as quick as I’d be. I’ll tell you how to find them. Gimme a pencil and a piece of paper. There — ‘Royal Nonesuch, Bricksville.’ Put it away, and don’t lose it. When the court wants to find out something about these two, let them send up to Bricksville and say they’ve got the men that played the Royal Nonesuch, and ask for some witnesses — why, you’ll have that entire town down here before you can hardly wink, Miss Mary. And they’ll come a-biling, too.”
+
+I judged we had got everything fixed about right now. So I says:
+
+“Just let the auction go right along, and don’t worry. Nobody don’t have to pay for the things they buy till a whole day after the auction on accounts of the short notice, and they ain’t going out of this till they get that money; and the way we’ve fixed it the sale ain’t going to count, and they ain’t going to get no money. It’s just like the way it was with the niggers — it warn’t no sale, and the niggers will be back before long. Why, they can’t collect the money for the niggers yet — they’re in the worst kind of a fix, Miss Mary.”
+
+“Well,” she says, “I’ll run down to breakfast now, and then I’ll start straight for Mr. Lothrop’s.”
+
+“’Deed, that ain’t the ticket, Miss Mary Jane,” I says, “by no manner of means; go before breakfast.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“What did you reckon I wanted you to go at all for, Miss Mary?”
+
+“Well, I never thought — and come to think, I don’t know. What was it?”
+
+“Why, it’s because you ain’t one of these leather-face people. I don’t want no better book than what your face is. A body can set down and read it off like coarse print. Do you reckon you can go and face your uncles when they come to kiss you good-morning, and never — ”
+
+“There, there, don’t! Yes, I’ll go before breakfast — I’ll be glad to. And leave my sisters with them?”
+
+“Yes; never mind about them. They’ve got to stand it yet a while. They might suspicion something if all of you was to go. I don’t want you to see them, nor your sisters, nor nobody in this town; if a neighbor was to ask how is your uncles this morning your face would tell something. No, you go right along, Miss Mary Jane, and I’ll fix it with all of them. I’ll tell Miss Susan to give your love to your uncles and say you’ve went away for a few hours for to get a little rest and change, or to see a friend, and you’ll be back to-night or early in the morning.”
+
+“Gone to see a friend is all right, but I won’t have my love given to them.”
+
+“Well, then, it sha’n’t be.” It was well enough to tell her so — no harm in it. It was only a little thing to do, and no trouble; and it’s the little things that smooths people’s roads the most, down here below; it would make Mary Jane comfortable, and it wouldn’t cost nothing. Then I says: “There’s one more thing — that bag of money.”
+
+“Well, they’ve got that; and it makes me feel pretty silly to think how they got it.”
+
+“No, you’re out, there. They hain’t got it.”
+
+“Why, who’s got it?”
+
+“I wish I knowed, but I don’t. I had it, because I stole it from them; and I stole it to give to you; and I know where I hid it, but I’m afraid it ain’t there no more. I’m awful sorry, Miss Mary Jane, I’m just as sorry as I can be; but I done the best I could; I did honest. I come nigh getting caught, and I had to shove it into the first place I come to, and run — and it warn’t a good place.”
+
+“Oh, stop blaming yourself — it’s too bad to do it, and I won’t allow it — you couldn’t help it; it wasn’t your fault. Where did you hide it?”
+
+I didn’t want to set her to thinking about her troubles again; and I couldn’t seem to get my mouth to tell her what would make her see that corpse laying in the coffin with that bag of money on his stomach. So for a minute I didn’t say nothing; then I says:
+
+“I’d ruther not tell you where I put it, Miss Mary Jane, if you don’t mind letting me off; but I’ll write it for you on a piece of paper, and you can read it along the road to Mr. Lothrop’s, if you want to. Do you reckon that’ll do?”
+
+“Oh, yes.”
+
+So I wrote: “I put it in the coffin. It was in there when you was crying there, away in the night. I was behind the door, and I was mighty sorry for you, Miss Mary Jane.”
+
+It made my eyes water a little to remember her crying there all by herself in the night, and them devils laying there right under her own roof, shaming her and robbing her; and when I folded it up and give it to her I see the water come into her eyes, too; and she shook me by the hand, hard, and says:
+
+“Good-bye. I’m going to do everything just as you’ve told me; and if I don’t ever see you again, I sha’n’t ever forget you and I’ll think of you a many and a many a time, and I’ll pray for you, too!” — and she was gone.
+
+Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she’d take a job that was more nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same — she was just that kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion — there warn’t no back-down to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain’t no flattery. And when it comes to beauty — and goodness, too — she lays over them all. I hain’t ever seen her since that time that I see her go out of that door; no, I hain’t ever seen her since, but I reckon I’ve thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she would pray for me; and if ever I’d a thought it would do any good for me to pray for her, blamed if I wouldn’t a done it or bust.
+
+Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see her go. When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says:
+
+“What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?”
+
+They says:
+
+“There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.”
+
+“That’s the name,” I says; “I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she told me to tell you she’s gone over there in a dreadful hurry — one of them’s sick.”
+
+“Which one?”
+
+“I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s — ”
+
+“Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t Hanner?”
+
+“I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.”
+
+“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?”
+
+“It ain’t no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary Jane said, and they don’t think she’ll last many hours.”
+
+“Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?”
+
+I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says:
+
+“Mumps.”
+
+“Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.”
+
+“They don’t, don’t they? You better bet they do with these mumps. These mumps is different. It’s a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said.”
+
+“How’s it a new kind?”
+
+“Because it’s mixed up with other things.”
+
+“What other things?”
+
+“Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don’t know what all.”
+
+“My land! And they call it the mumps?”
+
+“That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.”
+
+“Well, what in the nation do they call it the mumps for?”
+
+“Why, because it is the mumps. That’s what it starts with.”
+
+“Well, ther’ ain’t no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull up and say, ‘Why, he stumped his toe.’ Would ther’ be any sense in that? No. And ther’ ain’t no sense in this, nuther. Is it ketching?”
+
+“Is it ketching? Why, how you talk. Is a harrow catching — in the dark? If you don’t hitch on to one tooth, you’re bound to on another, ain’t you? And you can’t get away with that tooth without fetching the whole harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a harrow, as you may say — and it ain’t no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you come to get it hitched on good.”
+
+“Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and — ”
+
+“Oh, yes,” I says, “I would. Of course I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.”
+
+“Well, why wouldn’t you?”
+
+“Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain’t your uncles obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you reckon they’d be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that journey by yourselves? You know they’ll wait for you. So fur, so good. Your uncle Harvey’s a preacher, ain’t he? Very well, then; is a preacher going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive a ship clerk? — so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now you know he ain’t. What will he do, then? Why, he’ll say, ‘It’s a great pity, but my church matters has got to get along the best way they can; for my niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribus-unum mumps, and so it’s my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months it takes to show on her if she’s got it.’ But never mind, if you think it’s best to tell your uncle Harvey — ”
+
+“Shucks, and stay fooling around here when we could all be having good times in England whilst we was waiting to find out whether Mary Jane’s got it or not? Why, you talk like a muggins.”
+
+“Well, anyway, maybe you’d better tell some of the neighbors.”
+
+“Listen at that, now. You do beat all for natural stupidness. Can’t you see that they’d go and tell? Ther’ ain’t no way but just to not tell anybody at all.”
+
+“Well, maybe you’re right — yes, I judge you are right.”
+
+“But I reckon we ought to tell Uncle Harvey she’s gone out a while, anyway, so he won’t be uneasy about her?”
+
+“Yes, Miss Mary Jane she wanted you to do that. She says, ‘Tell them to give Uncle Harvey and William my love and a kiss, and say I’ve run over the river to see Mr.’ — Mr. — what is the name of that rich family your uncle Peter used to think so much of? — I mean the one that — ”
+
+“Why, you must mean the Apthorps, ain’t it?”
+
+“Of course; bother them kind of names, a body can’t ever seem to remember them, half the time, somehow. Yes, she said, say she has run over for to ask the Apthorps to be sure and come to the auction and buy this house, because she allowed her uncle Peter would ruther they had it than anybody else; and she’s going to stick to them till they say they’ll come, and then, if she ain’t too tired, she’s coming home; and if she is, she’ll be home in the morning anyway. She said, don’t say nothing about the Proctors, but only about the Apthorps — which’ll be perfectly true, because she is going there to speak about their buying the house; I know it, because she told me so herself.”
+
+“All right,” they said, and cleared out to lay for their uncles, and give them the love and the kisses, and tell them the message.
+
+Everything was all right now. The girls wouldn’t say nothing because they wanted to go to England; and the king and the duke would ruther Mary Jane was off working for the auction than around in reach of Doctor Robinson. I felt very good; I judged I had done it pretty neat — I reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn’t a done it no neater himself. Of course he would a throwed more style into it, but I can’t do that very handy, not being brung up to it.
+
+Well, they held the auction in the public square, along towards the end of the afternoon, and it strung along, and strung along, and the old man he was on hand and looking his level pisonest, up there longside of the auctioneer, and chipping in a little Scripture now and then, or a little goody-goody saying of some kind, and the duke he was around goo-gooing for sympathy all he knowed how, and just spreading himself generly.
+
+But by-and-by the thing dragged through, and everything was sold — everything but a little old trifling lot in the graveyard. So they’d got to work that off — I never see such a girafft as the king was for wanting to swallow everything. Well, whilst they was at it a steamboat landed, and in about two minutes up comes a crowd a-whooping and yelling and laughing and carrying on, and singing out:
+
+“Here’s your opposition line! here’s your two sets o’ heirs to old Peter Wilks — and you pays your money and you takes your choice!”
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+They was fetching a very nice-looking old gentleman along, and a nice-looking younger one, with his right arm in a sling. And, my souls, how the people yelled and laughed, and kept it up. But I didn’t see no joke about it, and I judged it would strain the duke and the king some to see any. I reckoned they’d turn pale. But no, nary a pale did they turn. The duke he never let on he suspicioned what was up, but just went a goo-gooing around, happy and satisfied, like a jug that’s googling out buttermilk; and as for the king, he just gazed and gazed down sorrowful on them new-comers like it give him the stomach-ache in his very heart to think there could be such frauds and rascals in the world. Oh, he done it admirable. Lots of the principal people gethered around the king, to let him see they was on his side. That old gentleman that had just come looked all puzzled to death. Pretty soon he begun to speak, and I see straight off he pronounced like an Englishman — not the king’s way, though the king’s was pretty good for an imitation. I can’t give the old gent’s words, nor I can’t imitate him; but he turned around to the crowd, and says, about like this:
+
+“This is a surprise to me which I wasn’t looking for; and I’ll acknowledge, candid and frank, I ain’t very well fixed to meet it and answer it; for my brother and me has had misfortunes; he’s broke his arm, and our baggage got put off at a town above here last night in the night by a mistake. I am Peter Wilks’ brother Harvey, and this is his brother William, which can’t hear nor speak — and can’t even make signs to amount to much, now’t he’s only got one hand to work them with. We are who we say we are; and in a day or two, when I get the baggage, I can prove it. But up till then I won’t say nothing more, but go to the hotel and wait.”
+
+So him and the new dummy started off; and the king he laughs, and blethers out:
+
+“Broke his arm — very likely, ain’t it? — and very convenient, too, for a fraud that’s got to make signs, and ain’t learnt how. Lost their baggage! That’s mighty good! — and mighty ingenious — under the circumstances!”
+
+So he laughed again; and so did everybody else, except three or four, or maybe half a dozen. One of these was that doctor; another one was a sharp-looking gentleman, with a carpet-bag of the old-fashioned kind made out of carpet-stuff, that had just come off of the steamboat and was talking to him in a low voice, and glancing towards the king now and then and nodding their heads — it was Levi Bell, the lawyer that was gone up to Louisville; and another one was a big rough husky that come along and listened to all the old gentleman said, and was listening to the king now. And when the king got done this husky up and says:
+
+“Say, looky here; if you are Harvey Wilks, when’d you come to this town?”
+
+“The day before the funeral, friend,” says the king.
+
+“But what time o’ day?”
+
+“In the evenin’ — ’bout an hour er two before sundown.”
+
+“How’d you come?”
+
+“I come down on the Susan Powell from Cincinnati.”
+
+“Well, then, how’d you come to be up at the Pint in the mornin’ — in a canoe?”
+
+“I warn’t up at the Pint in the mornin’.”
+
+“It’s a lie.”
+
+Several of them jumped for him and begged him not to talk that way to an old man and a preacher.
+
+“Preacher be hanged, he’s a fraud and a liar. He was up at the Pint that mornin’. I live up there, don’t I? Well, I was up there, and he was up there. I see him there. He come in a canoe, along with Tim Collins and a boy.”
+
+The doctor he up and says:
+
+“Would you know the boy again if you was to see him, Hines?”
+
+“I reckon I would, but I don’t know. Why, yonder he is, now. I know him perfectly easy.”
+
+It was me he pointed at. The doctor says:
+
+“Neighbors, I don’t know whether the new couple is frauds or not; but if these two ain’t frauds, I am an idiot, that’s all. I think it’s our duty to see that they don’t get away from here till we’ve looked into this thing. Come along, Hines; come along, the rest of you. We’ll take these fellows to the tavern and affront them with t’other couple, and I reckon we’ll find out something before we get through.”
+
+It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not for the king’s friends; so we all started. It was about sundown. The doctor he led me along by the hand, and was plenty kind enough, but he never let go my hand.
+
+We all got in a big room in the hotel, and lit up some candles, and fetched in the new couple. First, the doctor says:
+
+“I don’t wish to be too hard on these two men, but I think they’re frauds, and they may have complices that we don’t know nothing about. If they have, won’t the complices get away with that bag of gold Peter Wilks left? It ain’t unlikely. If these men ain’t frauds, they won’t object to sending for that money and letting us keep it till they prove they’re all right — ain’t that so?”
+
+Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty tight place right at the outstart. But the king he only looked sorrowful, and says:
+
+“Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain’t got no disposition to throw anything in the way of a fair, open, out-and-out investigation o’ this misable business; but, alas, the money ain’t there; you k’n send and see, if you want to.”
+
+“Where is it, then?”
+
+“Well, when my niece give it to me to keep for her I took and hid it inside o’ the straw tick o’ my bed, not wishin’ to bank it for the few days we’d be here, and considerin’ the bed a safe place, we not bein’ used to niggers, and suppos’n’ ’em honest, like servants in England. The niggers stole it the very next mornin’ after I had went down stairs; and when I sold ’em I hadn’t missed the money yit, so they got clean away with it. My servant here k’n tell you ’bout it, gentlemen.”
+
+The doctor and several said “Shucks!” and I see nobody didn’t altogether believe him. One man asked me if I see the niggers steal it. I said no, but I see them sneaking out of the room and hustling away, and I never thought nothing, only I reckoned they was afraid they had waked up my master and was trying to get away before he made trouble with them. That was all they asked me. Then the doctor whirls on me and says:
+
+“Are you English, too?”
+
+I says yes; and him and some others laughed, and said, “Stuff!”
+
+Well, then they sailed in on the general investigation, and there we had it, up and down, hour in, hour out, and nobody never said a word about supper, nor ever seemed to think about it — and so they kept it up, and kept it up; and it was the worst mixed-up thing you ever see. They made the king tell his yarn, and they made the old gentleman tell his’n; and anybody but a lot of prejudiced chuckleheads would a seen that the old gentleman was spinning truth and t’other one lies. And by-and-by they had me up to tell what I knowed. The king he give me a left-handed look out of the corner of his eye, and so I knowed enough to talk on the right side. I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, and all about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn’t get pretty fur till the doctor begun to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says:
+
+“Set down, my boy; I wouldn’t strain myself if I was you. I reckon you ain’t used to lying, it don’t seem to come handy; what you want is practice. You do it pretty awkward.”
+
+I didn’t care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off, anyway.
+
+The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says:
+
+“If you’d been in town at first, Levi Bell — ” The king broke in and reached out his hand, and says:
+
+“Why, is this my poor dead brother’s old friend that he’s wrote so often about?”
+
+The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased, and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side and talked low; and at last the lawyer speaks up and says:
+
+“That’ll fix it. I’ll take the order and send it, along with your brother’s, and then they’ll know it’s all right.”
+
+So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something; and then they give the pen to the duke — and then for the first time the duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote. So then the lawyer turns to the new old gentleman and says:
+
+“You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names.”
+
+The old gentleman wrote, but nobody couldn’t read it. The lawyer looked powerful astonished, and says:
+
+“Well, it beats me” — and snaked a lot of old letters out of his pocket, and examined them, and then examined the old man’s writing, and then them again; and then says: “These old letters is from Harvey Wilks; and here’s these two handwritings, and anybody can see they didn’t write them” (the king and the duke looked sold and foolish, I tell you, to see how the lawyer had took them in), “and here’s this old gentleman’s hand writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, he didn’t write them — fact is, the scratches he makes ain’t properly writing at all. Now, here’s some letters from — ”
+
+The new old gentleman says:
+
+“If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother there — so he copies for me. It’s his hand you’ve got there, not mine.”
+
+“Well!” says the lawyer, “this is a state of things. I’ve got some of William’s letters, too; so if you’ll get him to write a line or so we can com — ”
+
+“He can’t write with his left hand,” says the old gentleman. “If he could use his right hand, you would see that he wrote his own letters and mine too. Look at both, please — they’re by the same hand.”
+
+The lawyer done it, and says:
+
+“I believe it’s so — and if it ain’t so, there’s a heap stronger resemblance than I’d noticed before, anyway. Well, well, well! I thought we was right on the track of a solution, but it’s gone to grass, partly. But anyway, one thing is proved — these two ain’t either of ’em Wilkses” — and he wagged his head towards the king and the duke.
+
+Well, what do you think? That muleheaded old fool wouldn’t give in then! Indeed he wouldn’t. Said it warn’t no fair test. Said his brother William was the cussedest joker in the world, and hadn’t tried to write — he see William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the pen to paper. And so he warmed up and went warbling and warbling right along till he was actuly beginning to believe what he was saying himself; but pretty soon the new gentleman broke in, and says:
+
+“I’ve thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay out my br — helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?”
+
+“Yes,” says somebody, “me and Ab Turner done it. We’re both here.”
+
+Then the old man turns towards the king, and says:
+
+“Perhaps this gentleman can tell me what was tattooed on his breast?”
+
+Blamed if the king didn’t have to brace up mighty quick, or he’d a squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took him so sudden; and, mind you, it was a thing that was calculated to make most anybody sqush to get fetched such a solid one as that without any notice, because how was he going to know what was tattooed on the man? He whitened a little; he couldn’t help it; and it was mighty still in there, and everybody bending a little forwards and gazing at him. Says I to myself, Now he’ll throw up the sponge — there ain’t no more use. Well, did he? A body can’t hardly believe it, but he didn’t. I reckon he thought he’d keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so they’d thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway, he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says:
+
+“Mf! It’s a very tough question, ain’t it! Yes, sir, I k’n tell you what’s tattooed on his breast. It’s jest a small, thin, blue arrow — that’s what it is; and if you don’t look clost, you can’t see it. Now what do you say — hey?”
+
+Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out cheek.
+
+The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his eye lights up like he judged he’d got the king this time, and says:
+
+“There — you’ve heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks’ breast?”
+
+Both of them spoke up and says:
+
+“We didn’t see no such mark.”
+
+“Good!” says the old gentleman. “Now, what you did see on his breast was a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was young), and a W, with dashes between them, so: P — B — W” — and he marked them that way on a piece of paper. “Come, ain’t that what you saw?”
+
+Both of them spoke up again, and says:
+
+“No, we didn’t. We never seen any marks at all.”
+
+Well, everybody was in a state of mind now, and they sings out:
+
+“The whole bilin’ of ’m ’s frauds! Le’s duck ’em! le’s drown ’em! le’s ride ’em on a rail!” and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a rattling powwow. But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and says:
+
+“Gentlemen — gentlemen! Hear me just a word — just a single word — if you PLEASE! There’s one way yet — let’s go and dig up the corpse and look.”
+
+That took them.
+
+“Hooray!” they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer and the doctor sung out:
+
+“Hold on, hold on! Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch them along, too!”
+
+“We’ll do it!” they all shouted; “and if we don’t find them marks we’ll lynch the whole gang!”
+
+I was scared, now, I tell you. But there warn’t no getting away, you know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the evening.
+
+As we went by our house I wished I hadn’t sent Mary Jane out of town; because now if I could tip her the wink she’d light out and save me, and blow on our dead-beats.
+
+Well, we swarmed along down the river road, just carrying on like wildcats; and to make it more scary the sky was darking up, and the lightning beginning to wink and flitter, and the wind to shiver amongst the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and most dangersome I ever was in; and I was kinder stunned; everything was going so different from what I had allowed for; stead of being fixed so I could take my own time if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to save me and set me free when the close-fit come, here was nothing in the world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoo-marks. If they didn’t find them — 
+
+I couldn’t bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn’t think about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the wrist — Hines — and a body might as well try to give Goliar the slip. He dragged me right along, he was so excited, and I had to run to keep up.
+
+When they got there they swarmed into the graveyard and washed over it like an overflow. And when they got to the grave they found they had about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn’t thought to fetch a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the flicker of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a mile off, to borrow one.
+
+So they dug and dug like everything; and it got awful dark, and the rain started, and the wind swished and swushed along, and the lightning come brisker and brisker, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took no notice of it, they was so full of this business; and one minute you could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovelfuls of dirt sailing up out of the grave, and the next second the dark wiped it all out, and you couldn’t see nothing at all.
+
+At last they got out the coffin and begun to unscrew the lid, and then such another crowding and shouldering and shoving as there was, to scrouge in and get a sight, you never see; and in the dark, that way, it was awful. Hines he hurt my wrist dreadful pulling and tugging so, and I reckon he clean forgot I was in the world, he was so excited and panting.
+
+All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, and somebody sings out:
+
+“By the living jingo, here’s the bag of gold on his breast!”
+
+Hines let out a whoop, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give a big surge to bust his way in and get a look, and the way I lit out and shinned for the road in the dark there ain’t nobody can tell.
+
+I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flew — leastways, I had it all to myself except the solid dark, and the now-and-then glares, and the buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of the thunder; and sure as you are born I did clip it along!
+
+When I struck the town I see there warn’t nobody out in the storm, so I never hunted for no back streets, but humped it straight through the main one; and when I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and set it. No light there; the house all dark — which made me feel sorry and disappointed, I didn’t know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, flash comes the light in Mary Jane’s window! and my heart swelled up sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind me in the dark, and wasn’t ever going to be before me no more in this world. She was the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand.
+
+The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the tow-head, I begun to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time the lightning showed me one that wasn’t chained I snatched it and shoved. It was a canoe, and warn’t fastened with nothing but a rope. The tow-head was a rattling big distance off, away out there in the middle of the river, but I didn’t lose no time; and when I struck the raft at last I was so fagged I would a just laid down to blow and gasp if I could afforded it. But I didn’t. As I sprung aboard I sung out:
+
+“Out with you, Jim, and set her loose! Glory be to goodness, we’re shut of them!”
+
+Jim lit out, and was a-coming for me with both arms spread, he was so full of joy; but when I glimpsed him in the lightning my heart shot up in my mouth and I went overboard backwards; for I forgot he was old King Lear and a drownded A-rab all in one, and it most scared the livers and lights out of me. But Jim fished me out, and was going to hug me and bless me, and so on, he was so glad I was back and we was shut of the king and the duke, but I says:
+
+“Not now; have it for breakfast, have it for breakfast! Cut loose and let her slide!”
+
+So in two seconds away we went a-sliding down the river, and it did seem so good to be free again and all by ourselves on the big river, and nobody to bother us. I had to skip around a bit, and jump up and crack my heels a few times — I couldn’t help it; but about the third crack I noticed a sound that I knowed mighty well, and held my breath and listened and waited; and sure enough, when the next flash busted out over the water, here they come! — and just a-laying to their oars and making their skiff hum! It was the king and the duke.
+
+So I wilted right down on to the planks then, and give up; and it was all I could do to keep from crying.
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+When they got aboard the king went for me, and shook me by the collar, and says:
+
+“Tryin’ to give us the slip, was ye, you pup! Tired of our company, hey?”
+
+I says:
+
+“No, your majesty, we warn’t — please don’t, your majesty!”
+
+“Quick, then, and tell us what was your idea, or I’ll shake the insides out o’ you!”
+
+“Honest, I’ll tell you everything just as it happened, your majesty. The man that had a-holt of me was very good to me, and kept saying he had a boy about as big as me that died last year, and he was sorry to see a boy in such a dangerous fix; and when they was all took by surprise by finding the gold, and made a rush for the coffin, he lets go of me and whispers, ‘Heel it now, or they’ll hang ye, sure!’ and I lit out. It didn’t seem no good for me to stay — I couldn’t do nothing, and I didn’t want to be hung if I could get away. So I never stopped running till I found the canoe; and when I got here I told Jim to hurry, or they’d catch me and hang me yet, and said I was afeard you and the duke wasn’t alive now, and I was awful sorry, and so was Jim, and was awful glad when we see you coming; you may ask Jim if I didn’t.”
+
+Jim said it was so; and the king told him to shut up, and said, “Oh, yes, it’s mighty likely!” and shook me up again, and said he reckoned he’d drownd me. But the duke says:
+
+“Leggo the boy, you old idiot! Would you a done any different? Did you inquire around for him when you got loose? I don’t remember it.”
+
+So the king let go of me, and begun to cuss that town and everybody in it. But the duke says:
+
+“You better a blame sight give yourself a good cussing, for you’re the one that’s entitled to it most. You hain’t done a thing from the start that had any sense in it, except coming out so cool and cheeky with that imaginary blue-arrow mark. That was bright — it was right down bully; and it was the thing that saved us. For if it hadn’t been for that, they’d a jailed us till them Englishmen’s baggage come — and then — the penitentiary, you bet! But that trick took ’em to the graveyard, and the gold done us a still bigger kindness; for if the excited fools hadn’t let go all holts and made that rush to get a look, we’d a slept in our cravats to-night — cravats warranted to wear, too — longer than we’d need ’em.”
+
+They was still a minute — thinking; then the king says, kind of absent-minded like:
+
+“Mf! And we reckoned the niggers stole it!”
+
+That made me squirm!
+
+“Yes,” says the duke, kinder slow and deliberate and sarcastic, “We did.”
+
+After about a half a minute the king drawls out:
+
+“Leastways, I did.”
+
+The duke says, the same way:
+
+“On the contrary, I did.”
+
+The king kind of ruffles up, and says:
+
+“Looky here, Bilgewater, what’r you referrin’ to?”
+
+The duke says, pretty brisk:
+
+“When it comes to that, maybe you’ll let me ask, what was you referring to?”
+
+“Shucks!” says the king, very sarcastic; “but I don’t know — maybe you was asleep, and didn’t know what you was about.”
+
+The duke bristles up now, and says:
+
+“Oh, let up on this cussed nonsense; do you take me for a blame’ fool? Don’t you reckon I know who hid that money in that coffin?”
+
+“Yes, sir! I know you do know, because you done it yourself!”
+
+“It’s a lie!” — and the duke went for him. The king sings out:
+
+“Take y’r hands off! — leggo my throat! — I take it all back!”
+
+The duke says:
+
+“Well, you just own up, first, that you did hide that money there, intending to give me the slip one of these days, and come back and dig it up, and have it all to yourself.”
+
+“Wait jest a minute, duke — answer me this one question, honest and fair; if you didn’t put the money there, say it, and I’ll b’lieve you, and take back everything I said.”
+
+“You old scoundrel, I didn’t, and you know I didn’t. There, now!”
+
+“Well, then, I b’lieve you. But answer me only jest this one more — now don’t git mad; didn’t you have it in your mind to hook the money and hide it?”
+
+The duke never said nothing for a little bit; then he says:
+
+“Well, I don’t care if I did, I didn’t do it, anyway. But you not only had it in mind to do it, but you done it.”
+
+“I wisht I never die if I done it, duke, and that’s honest. I won’t say I warn’t goin’ to do it, because I was; but you — I mean somebody — got in ahead o’ me.”
+
+“It’s a lie! You done it, and you got to say you done it, or — ”
+
+The king began to gurgle, and then he gasps out:
+
+“’Nough! — I own up!”
+
+I was very glad to hear him say that; it made me feel much more easier than what I was feeling before. So the duke took his hands off and says:
+
+“If you ever deny it again I’ll drown you. It’s well for you to set there and blubber like a baby — it’s fitten for you, after the way you’ve acted. I never see such an old ostrich for wanting to gobble everything — and I a-trusting you all the time, like you was my own father. You ought to been ashamed of yourself to stand by and hear it saddled on to a lot of poor niggers, and you never say a word for ’em. It makes me feel ridiculous to think I was soft enough to believe that rubbage. Cuss you, I can see now why you was so anxious to make up the deffisit — you wanted to get what money I’d got out of the Nonesuch and one thing or another, and scoop it all!”
+
+The king says, timid, and still a-snuffling:
+
+“Why, duke, it was you that said make up the deffisit; it warn’t me.”
+
+“Dry up! I don’t want to hear no more out of you!” says the duke. “And now you see what you got by it. They’ve got all their own money back, and all of ourn but a shekel or two besides. G’long to bed, and don’t you deffersit me no more deffersits, long ’s you live!”
+
+So the king sneaked into the wigwam and took to his bottle for comfort, and before long the duke tackled his bottle; and so in about a half an hour they was as thick as thieves again, and the tighter they got, the lovinger they got, and went off a-snoring in each other’s arms. They both got powerful mellow, but I noticed the king didn’t get mellow enough to forget to remember to not deny about hiding the money-bag again. That made me feel easy and satisfied. Of course when they got to snoring we had a long gabble, and I told Jim everything.
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+We dasn’t stop again at any town for days and days; kept right along down the river. We was down south in the warm weather now, and a mighty long ways from home. We begun to come to trees with Spanish moss on them, hanging down from the limbs like long, gray beards. It was the first I ever see it growing, and it made the woods look solemn and dismal. So now the frauds reckoned they was out of danger, and they begun to work the villages again.
+
+First they done a lecture on temperance; but they didn’t make enough for them both to get drunk on. Then in another village they started a dancing-school; but they didn’t know no more how to dance than a kangaroo does; so the first prance they made the general public jumped in and pranced them out of town. Another time they tried to go at yellocution; but they didn’t yellocute long till the audience got up and give them a solid good cussing, and made them skip out. They tackled missionarying, and mesmerizing, and doctoring, and telling fortunes, and a little of everything; but they couldn’t seem to have no luck. So at last they got just about dead broke, and laid around the raft as she floated along, thinking and thinking, and never saying nothing, by the half a day at a time, and dreadful blue and desperate.
+
+And at last they took a change and begun to lay their heads together in the wigwam and talk low and confidential two or three hours at a time. Jim and me got uneasy. We didn’t like the look of it. We judged they was studying up some kind of worse deviltry than ever. We turned it over and over, and at last we made up our minds they was going to break into somebody’s house or store, or was going into the counterfeit-money business, or something. So then we was pretty scared, and made up an agreement that we wouldn’t have nothing in the world to do with such actions, and if we ever got the least show we would give them the cold shake and clear out and leave them behind. Well, early one morning we hid the raft in a good, safe place about two mile below a little bit of a shabby village named Pikesville, and the king he went ashore and told us all to stay hid whilst he went up to town and smelt around to see if anybody had got any wind of the Royal Nonesuch there yet. (“House to rob, you mean,” says I to myself; “and when you get through robbing it you’ll come back here and wonder what has become of me and Jim and the raft — and you’ll have to take it out in wondering.”) And he said if he warn’t back by midday the duke and me would know it was all right, and we was to come along.
+
+So we stayed where we was. The duke he fretted and sweated around, and was in a mighty sour way. He scolded us for everything, and we couldn’t seem to do nothing right; he found fault with every little thing. Something was a-brewing, sure. I was good and glad when midday come and no king; we could have a change, anyway — and maybe a chance for the change on top of it. So me and the duke went up to the village, and hunted around there for the king, and by-and-by we found him in the back room of a little low doggery, very tight, and a lot of loafers bullyragging him for sport, and he a-cussing and a-threatening with all his might, and so tight he couldn’t walk, and couldn’t do nothing to them. The duke he begun to abuse him for an old fool, and the king begun to sass back, and the minute they was fairly at it I lit out and shook the reefs out of my hind legs, and spun down the river road like a deer, for I see our chance; and I made up my mind that it would be a long day before they ever see me and Jim again. I got down there all out of breath but loaded up with joy, and sung out:
+
+“Set her loose, Jim! we’re all right now!”
+
+But there warn’t no answer, and nobody come out of the wigwam. Jim was gone! I set up a shout — and then another — and then another one; and run this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching; but it warn’t no use — old Jim was gone. Then I set down and cried; I couldn’t help it. But I couldn’t set still long. Pretty soon I went out on the road, trying to think what I better do, and I run across a boy walking, and asked him if he’d seen a strange nigger dressed so and so, and he says:
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Whereabouts?” says I.
+
+“Down to Silas Phelps’ place, two mile below here. He’s a runaway nigger, and they’ve got him. Was you looking for him?”
+
+“You bet I ain’t! I run across him in the woods about an hour or two ago, and he said if I hollered he’d cut my livers out — and told me to lay down and stay where I was; and I done it. Been there ever since; afeard to come out.”
+
+“Well,” he says, “you needn’t be afeard no more, becuz they’ve got him. He run off f’m down South, som’ers.”
+
+“It’s a good job they got him.”
+
+“Well, I reckon! There’s two hunderd dollars reward on him. It’s like picking up money out’n the road.”
+
+“Yes, it is — and I could a had it if I’d been big enough; I see him first. Who nailed him?”
+
+“It was an old fellow — a stranger — and he sold out his chance in him for forty dollars, becuz he’s got to go up the river and can’t wait. Think o’ that, now! You bet I’d wait, if it was seven year.”
+
+“That’s me, every time,” says I. “But maybe his chance ain’t worth no more than that, if he’ll sell it so cheap. Maybe there’s something ain’t straight about it.”
+
+“But it is, though — straight as a string. I see the handbill myself. It tells all about him, to a dot — paints him like a picture, and tells the plantation he’s frum, below Newrleans. No-sirree-bob, they ain’t no trouble ’bout that speculation, you bet you. Say, gimme a chaw tobacker, won’t ye?”
+
+I didn’t have none, so he left. I went to the raft, and set down in the wigwam to think. But I couldn’t come to nothing. I thought till I wore my head sore, but I couldn’t see no way out of the trouble. After all this long journey, and after all we’d done for them scoundrels, here it was all come to nothing, everything all busted up and ruined, because they could have the heart to serve Jim such a trick as that, and make him a slave again all his life, and amongst strangers, too, for forty dirty dollars.
+
+Once I said to myself it would be a thousand times better for Jim to be a slave at home where his family was, as long as he’d got to be a slave, and so I’d better write a letter to Tom Sawyer and tell him to tell Miss Watson where he was. But I soon give up that notion for two things: she’d be mad and disgusted at his rascality and ungratefulness for leaving her, and so she’d sell him straight down the river again; and if she didn’t, everybody naturally despises an ungrateful nigger, and they’d make Jim feel it all the time, and so he’d feel ornery and disgraced. And then think of me! It would get all around that Huck Finn helped a nigger to get his freedom; and if I was ever to see anybody from that town again I’d be ready to get down and lick his boots for shame. That’s just the way: a person does a low-down thing, and then he don’t want to take no consequences of it. Thinks as long as he can hide it, it ain’t no disgrace. That was my fix exactly. The more I studied about this, the more my conscience went to grinding me, and the more wicked and low-down and ornery I got to feeling. And at last, when it hit me all of a sudden that here was the plain hand of Providence slapping me in the face and letting me know my wickedness was being watched all the time from up there in heaven, whilst I was stealing a poor old woman’s nigger that hadn’t ever done me no harm, and now was showing me there’s One that’s always on the lookout, and ain’t a-going to allow no such miserable doings to go only just so fur and no further, I most dropped in my tracks I was so scared. Well, I tried the best I could to kinder soften it up somehow for myself by saying I was brung up wicked, and so I warn’t so much to blame; but something inside of me kept saying, “There was the Sunday-school, you could a gone to it; and if you’d a done it they’d a learnt you there that people that acts as I’d been acting about that nigger goes to everlasting fire.”
+
+It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I couldn’t try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I kneeled down. But the words wouldn’t come. Why wouldn’t they? It warn’t no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from me, neither. I knowed very well why they wouldn’t come. It was because my heart warn’t right; it was because I warn’t square; it was because I was playing double. I was letting on to give up sin, but away inside of me I was holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth say I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger’s owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can’t pray a lie — I found that out.
+
+So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn’t know what to do. At last I had an idea; and I says, I’ll go and write the letter — and then see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote:
+
+Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the reward if you send.
+
+Huck Finn.
+
+I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn’t do it straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking — thinking how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I couldn’t seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind. I’d see him standing my watch on top of his’n, ’stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, up there where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call me honey, and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the only one he’s got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper.
+
+It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a-trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:
+
+“All right, then, I’ll go to hell” — and tore it up.
+
+It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole thing out of my head, and said I would take up wickedness again, which was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn’t. And for a starter I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; and if I could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog.
+
+Then I set to thinking over how to get at it, and turned over some considerable many ways in my mind; and at last fixed up a plan that suited me. So then I took the bearings of a woody island that was down the river a piece, and as soon as it was fairly dark I crept out with my raft and went for it, and hid it there, and then turned in. I slept the night through, and got up before it was light, and had my breakfast, and put on my store clothes, and tied up some others and one thing or another in a bundle, and took the canoe and cleared for shore. I landed below where I judged was Phelps’s place, and hid my bundle in the woods, and then filled up the canoe with water, and loaded rocks into her and sunk her where I could find her again when I wanted her, about a quarter of a mile below a little steam sawmill that was on the bank.
+
+Then I struck up the road, and when I passed the mill I see a sign on it, “Phelps’s Sawmill,” and when I come to the farm-houses, two or three hundred yards further along, I kept my eyes peeled, but didn’t see nobody around, though it was good daylight now. But I didn’t mind, because I didn’t want to see nobody just yet — I only wanted to get the lay of the land. According to my plan, I was going to turn up there from the village, not from below. So I just took a look, and shoved along, straight for town. Well, the very first man I see when I got there was the duke. He was sticking up a bill for the Royal Nonesuch — three-night performance — like that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds! I was right on him before I could shirk. He looked astonished, and says:
+
+“Hel-lo! Where’d you come from?” Then he says, kind of glad and eager, “Where’s the raft? — got her in a good place?”
+
+I says:
+
+“Why, that’s just what I was going to ask your grace.”
+
+Then he didn’t look so joyful, and says:
+
+“What was your idea for asking me?” he says.
+
+“Well,” I says, “when I see the king in that doggery yesterday I says to myself, we can’t get him home for hours, till he’s soberer; so I went a-loafing around town to put in the time and wait. A man up and offered me ten cents to help him pull a skiff over the river and back to fetch a sheep, and so I went along; but when we was dragging him to the boat, and the man left me a-holt of the rope and went behind him to shove him along, he was too strong for me and jerked loose and run, and we after him. We didn’t have no dog, and so we had to chase him all over the country till we tired him out. We never got him till dark; then we fetched him over, and I started down for the raft. When I got there and see it was gone, I says to myself, ‘they’ve got into trouble and had to leave; and they’ve took my nigger, which is the only nigger I’ve got in the world, and now I’m in a strange country, and ain’t got no property no more, nor nothing, and no way to make my living;’ so I set down and cried. I slept in the woods all night. But what did become of the raft, then? — and Jim — poor Jim!”
+
+“Blamed if I know — that is, what’s become of the raft. That old fool had made a trade and got forty dollars, and when we found him in the doggery the loafers had matched half-dollars with him and got every cent but what he’d spent for whisky; and when I got him home late last night and found the raft gone, we said, ‘That little rascal has stole our raft and shook us, and run off down the river.’”
+
+“I wouldn’t shake my nigger, would I? — the only nigger I had in the world, and the only property.”
+
+“We never thought of that. Fact is, I reckon we’d come to consider him our nigger; yes, we did consider him so — goodness knows we had trouble enough for him. So when we see the raft was gone and we flat broke, there warn’t anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch another shake. And I’ve pegged along ever since, dry as a powder-horn. Where’s that ten cents? Give it here.”
+
+I had considerable money, so I give him ten cents, but begged him to spend it for something to eat, and give me some, because it was all the money I had, and I hadn’t had nothing to eat since yesterday. He never said nothing. The next minute he whirls on me and says:
+
+“Do you reckon that nigger would blow on us? We’d skin him if he done that!”
+
+“How can he blow? Hain’t he run off?”
+
+“No! That old fool sold him, and never divided with me, and the money’s gone.”
+
+“Sold him?” I says, and begun to cry; “why, he was my nigger, and that was my money. Where is he? — I want my nigger.”
+
+“Well, you can’t get your nigger, that’s all — so dry up your blubbering. Looky here — do you think you’d venture to blow on us? Blamed if I think I’d trust you. Why, if you was to blow on us — ”
+
+He stopped, but I never see the duke look so ugly out of his eyes before. I went on a-whimpering, and says:
+
+“I don’t want to blow on nobody; and I ain’t got no time to blow, nohow. I got to turn out and find my nigger.”
+
+He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead. At last he says:
+
+“I’ll tell you something. We got to be here three days. If you’ll promise you won’t blow, and won’t let the nigger blow, I’ll tell you where to find him.”
+
+So I promised, and he says:
+
+“A farmer by the name of Silas Ph — ” and then he stopped. You see, he started to tell me the truth; but when he stopped that way, and begun to study and think again, I reckoned he was changing his mind. And so he was. He wouldn’t trust me; he wanted to make sure of having me out of the way the whole three days. So pretty soon he says:
+
+“The man that bought him is named Abram Foster — Abram G. Foster — and he lives forty mile back here in the country, on the road to Lafayette.”
+
+“All right,” I says, “I can walk it in three days. And I’ll start this very afternoon.”
+
+“No you wont, you’ll start now; and don’t you lose any time about it, neither, nor do any gabbling by the way. Just keep a tight tongue in your head and move right along, and then you won’t get into trouble with us, d’ye hear?”
+
+That was the order I wanted, and that was the one I played for. I wanted to be left free to work my plans.
+
+“So clear out,” he says; “and you can tell Mr. Foster whatever you want to. Maybe you can get him to believe that Jim is your nigger — some idiots don’t require documents — leastways I’ve heard there’s such down South here. And when you tell him the handbill and the reward’s bogus, maybe he’ll believe you when you explain to him what the idea was for getting ’em out. Go ’long now, and tell him anything you want to; but mind you don’t work your jaw any between here and there.”
+
+So I left, and struck for the back country. I didn’t look around, but I kinder felt like he was watching me. But I knowed I could tire him out at that. I went straight out in the country as much as a mile before I stopped; then I doubled back through the woods towards Phelps’. I reckoned I better start in on my plan straight off without fooling around, because I wanted to stop Jim’s mouth till these fellows could get away. I didn’t want no trouble with their kind. I’d seen all I wanted to of them, and wanted to get entirely shut of them.
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+When I got there it was all still and Sunday-like, and hot and sunshiny; the hands was gone to the fields; and there was them kind of faint dronings of bugs and flies in the air that makes it seem so lonesome and like everybody’s dead and gone; and if a breeze fans along and quivers the leaves it makes you feel mournful, because you feel like it’s spirits whispering — spirits that’s been dead ever so many years — and you always think they’re talking about you. As a general thing it makes a body wish he was dead, too, and done with it all.
+
+Phelps’ was one of these little one-horse cotton plantations, and they all look alike. A rail fence round a two-acre yard; a stile made out of logs sawed off and up-ended in steps, like barrels of a different length, to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on when they are going to jump on to a horse; some sickly grass-patches in the big yard, but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed off; big double log-house for the white folks — hewed logs, with the chinks stopped up with mud or mortar, and these mud-stripes been whitewashed some time or another; round-log kitchen, with a big broad, open but roofed passage joining it to the house; log smoke-house back of the kitchen; three little log nigger-cabins in a row t’other side the smoke-house; one little hut all by itself away down against the back fence, and some outbuildings down a piece the other side; ash-hopper and big kettle to bile soap in by the little hut; bench by the kitchen door, with bucket of water and a gourd; hound asleep there in the sun; more hounds asleep round about; about three shade trees away off in a corner; some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place by the fence; outside of the fence a garden and a watermelon patch; then the cotton fields begins, and after the fields the woods.
+
+I went around and clumb over the back stile by the ash-hopper, and started for the kitchen. When I got a little ways I heard the dim hum of a spinning-wheel wailing along up and sinking along down again; and then I knowed for certain I wished I was dead — for that is the lonesomest sound in the whole world.
+
+I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for I’d noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth if I left it alone.
+
+When I got half-way, first one hound and then another got up and went for me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still. And such another powwow as they made! In a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a hub of a wheel, as you may say — spokes made out of dogs — circle of fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses stretched up towards me, a-barking and howling; and more a-coming; you could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres.
+
+A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin in her hand, singing out, “Begone you Tige! you Spot! begone sah!” and she fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, and then the rest followed; and the next second half of them come back, wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me. There ain’t no harm in a hound, nohow.
+
+And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their mother’s gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing. She was smiling all over so she could hardly stand — and says:
+
+“It’s you, at last! — ain’t it?”
+
+I out with a “Yes’m” before I thought.
+
+She grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands and shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; and she couldn’t seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, “You don’t look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law sakes, I don’t care for that, I’m so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it’s your cousin Tom! — tell him howdy.”
+
+But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and hid behind her. So she run on:
+
+“Lize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away — or did you get your breakfast on the boat?”
+
+I said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says:
+
+“Now I can have a good look at you; and, laws-a-me, I’ve been hungry for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it’s come at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep’ you? — boat get aground?”
+
+“Yes’m — she — ”
+
+“Don’t say yes’m — say Aunt Sally. Where’d she get aground?”
+
+I didn’t rightly know what to say, because I didn’t know whether the boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up — from down towards Orleans. That didn’t help me much, though; for I didn’t know the names of bars down that way. I see I’d got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on — or — Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out:
+
+“It warn’t the grounding — that didn’t keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head.”
+
+“Good gracious! anybody hurt?”
+
+“No’m. Killed a nigger.”
+
+“Well, it’s lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he did die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn’t save him. Yes, it was mortification — that was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle’s been up to the town every day to fetch you. And he’s gone again, not more’n an hour ago; he’ll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn’t you? — oldish man, with a — ”
+
+“No, I didn’t see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too soon; and so I come down the back way.”
+
+“Who’d you give the baggage to?”
+
+“Nobody.”
+
+“Why, child, it’ll be stole!”
+
+“Not where I hid it I reckon it won’t,” I says.
+
+“How’d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?”
+
+It was kinder thin ice, but I says:
+
+“The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers’ lunch, and give me all I wanted.”
+
+I was getting so uneasy I couldn’t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn’t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:
+
+“But here we’re a-running on this way, and you hain’t told me a word about Sis, nor any of them. Now I’ll rest my works a little, and you start up yourn; just tell me everything — tell me all about ’m all every one of ’m; and how they are, and what they’re doing, and what they told you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of.”
+
+Well, I see I was up a stump — and up it good. Providence had stood by me this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it warn’t a bit of use to try to go ahead — I’d got to throw up my hand. So I says to myself, here’s another place where I got to resk the truth. I opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the bed, and says:
+
+“Here he comes! Stick your head down lower — there, that’ll do; you can’t be seen now. Don’t you let on you’re here. I’ll play a joke on him. Children, don’t you say a word.”
+
+I see I was in a fix now. But it warn’t no use to worry; there warn’t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.
+
+I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:
+
+“Has he come?”
+
+“No,” says her husband.
+
+“Good-ness gracious!” she says, “what in the warld can have become of him?”
+
+“I can’t imagine,” says the old gentleman; “and I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.”
+
+“Uneasy!” she says; “I’m ready to go distracted! He must a come; and you’ve missed him along the road. I know it’s so — something tells me so.”
+
+“Why, Sally, I couldn’t miss him along the road — you know that.”
+
+“But oh, dear, dear, what will Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He — ”
+
+“Oh, don’t distress me any more’n I’m already distressed. I don’t know what in the world to make of it. I’m at my wit’s end, and I don’t mind acknowledging ’t I’m right down scared. But there’s no hope that he’s come; for he couldn’t come and me miss him. Sally, it’s terrible — just terrible — something’s happened to the boat, sure!”
+
+“Why, Silas! Look yonder! — up the road! — ain’t that somebody coming?”
+
+He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:
+
+“Why, who’s that?”
+
+“Who do you reckon ’t is?”
+
+“I hain’t no idea. Who is it?”
+
+“It’s Tom Sawyer!”
+
+By jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn’t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.
+
+But if they was joyful, it warn’t nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn’t hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family — I mean the Sawyer family — than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because they didn’t know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I’d a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well.
+
+Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by-and-by I hear a steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s’pose Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s’pose he steps in here any minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep quiet? Well, I couldn’t have it that way; it wouldn’t do at all. I must go up the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go up to the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for going along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I druther he wouldn’t take no trouble about me.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+So I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a wagon coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till he come along. I says “Hold on!” and it stopped alongside, and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed two or three times like a person that’s got a dry throat, and then says:
+
+“I hain’t ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want to come back and ha’nt me for?”
+
+I says:
+
+“I hain’t come back — I hain’t been gone.”
+
+When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn’t quite satisfied yet. He says:
+
+“Don’t you play nothing on me, because I wouldn’t on you. Honest injun now, you ain’t a ghost?”
+
+“Honest injun, I ain’t,” I says.
+
+“Well — I — I — well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can’t somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn’t you ever murdered at all?”
+
+“No. I warn’t ever murdered at all — I played it on them. You come in here and feel of me if you don’t believe me.”
+
+So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me again he didn’t know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by-and-by; and told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him alone a minute, and don’t disturb him. So he thought and thought, and pretty soon he says:
+
+“It’s all right; I’ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it’s your’n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I’ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn’t let on to know me at first.”
+
+I says:
+
+“All right; but wait a minute. There’s one more thing — a thing that nobody don’t know but me. And that is, there’s a nigger here that I’m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim — old Miss Watson’s Jim.”
+
+He says:
+
+“What! Why, Jim is — ”
+
+He stopped and went to studying. I says:
+
+“I know what you’ll say. You’ll say it’s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I’m low down; and I’m a-going to steal him, and I want you keep mum and not let on. Will you?”
+
+His eye lit up, and he says:
+
+“I’ll help you steal him!”
+
+Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard — and I’m bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn’t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger stealer!
+
+“Oh, shucks!” I says; “you’re joking.”
+
+“I ain’t joking, either.”
+
+“Well, then,” I says, “joking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don’t forget to remember that you don’t know nothing about him, and I don’t know nothing about him.”
+
+Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:
+
+“Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare to do it? I wish we’d a timed her. And she hain’t sweated a hair — not a hair. It’s wonderful. Why, I wouldn’t take a hundred dollars for that horse now — I wouldn’t, honest; and yet I’d a sold her for fifteen before, and thought ’twas all she was worth.”
+
+That’s all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. But it warn’t surprising; because he warn’t only just a farmer, he was a preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and done the same way, down South.
+
+In about half an hour Tom’s wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:
+
+“Why, there’s somebody come! I wonder who ’tis? Why, I do believe it’s a stranger. Jimmy” (that’s one of the children) “run and tell Lize to put on another plate for dinner.”
+
+Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don’t come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience — and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn’t no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn’t a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca’m and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn’t want to disturb them, and says:
+
+“Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?”
+
+“No, my boy,” says the old gentleman, “I’m sorry to say ’t your driver has deceived you; Nichols’s place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.”
+
+Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, “Too late — he’s out of sight.”
+
+“Yes, he’s gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we’ll hitch up and take you down to Nichols’s.”
+
+“Oh, I can’t make you so much trouble; I couldn’t think of it. I’ll walk — I don’t mind the distance.”
+
+“But we won’t let you walk — it wouldn’t be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.”
+
+“Oh, do,” says Aunt Sally; “it ain’t a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in the world. You must stay. It’s a long, dusty three mile, and we can’t let you walk. And, besides, I’ve already told ’em to put on another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn’t disappoint us. Come right in and make yourself at home.”
+
+So Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be persuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger from Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson — and he made another bow.
+
+Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her hand, and says:
+
+“You owdacious puppy!”
+
+He looked kind of hurt, and says:
+
+“I’m surprised at you, m’am.”
+
+“You’re s’rp — Why, what do you reckon I am? I’ve a good notion to take and — Say, what do you mean by kissing me?”
+
+He looked kind of humble, and says:
+
+“I didn’t mean nothing, m’am. I didn’t mean no harm. I — I — thought you’d like it.”
+
+“Why, you born fool!” She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. “What made you think I’d like it?”
+
+“Well, I don’t know. Only, they — they — told me you would.”
+
+“They told you I would. Whoever told you’s another lunatic. I never heard the beat of it. Who’s they?”
+
+“Why, everybody. They all said so, m’am.”
+
+It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says:
+
+“Who’s ‘everybody’? Out with their names, or ther’ll be an idiot short.”
+
+He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says:
+
+“I’m sorry, and I warn’t expecting it. They told me to. They all told me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she’d like it. They all said it — every one of them. But I’m sorry, m’am, and I won’t do it no more — I won’t, honest.”
+
+“You won’t, won’t you? Well, I sh’d reckon you won’t!”
+
+“No’m, I’m honest about it; I won’t ever do it again — till you ask me.”
+
+“Till I ask you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! I lay you’ll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you — or the likes of you.”
+
+“Well,” he says, “it does surprise me so. I can’t make it out, somehow. They said you would, and I thought you would. But — ” He stopped and looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman’s, and says, “Didn’t you think she’d like me to kiss her, sir?”
+
+“Why, no; I — I — well, no, I b’lieve I didn’t.”
+
+Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says:
+
+“Tom, didn’t you think Aunt Sally ’d open out her arms and say, ‘Sid Sawyer — ’”
+
+“My land!” she says, breaking in and jumping for him, “you impudent young rascal, to fool a body so — ” and was going to hug him, but he fended her off, and says:
+
+“No, not till you’ve asked me first.”
+
+So she didn’t lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says:
+
+“Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn’t looking for you at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him.”
+
+“It’s because it warn’t intended for any of us to come but Tom,” he says; “but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too; so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a first-rate surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by-and-by tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was a mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain’t no healthy place for a stranger to come.”
+
+“No — not impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed; I hain’t been so put out since I don’t know when. But I don’t care, I don’t mind the terms — I’d be willing to stand a thousand such jokes to have you here. Well, to think of that performance! I don’t deny it, I was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack.”
+
+We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and the kitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven families — and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that’s laid in a cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old cold cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessing over it, but it was worth it; and it didn’t cool it a bit, neither, the way I’ve seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was a considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was on the lookout all the time; but it warn’t no use, they didn’t happen to say nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up to it. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says:
+
+“Pa, mayn’t Tom and Sid and me go to the show?”
+
+“No,” says the old man, “I reckon there ain’t going to be any; and you couldn’t go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and me all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people; so I reckon they’ve drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this time.”
+
+So there it was! — but I couldn’t help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the same room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to bed right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the lightning-rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn’t believe anybody was going to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn’t hurry up and give them one they’d get into trouble sure.
+
+On the road Tom he told me all about how it was reckoned I was murdered, and how pap disappeared pretty soon, and didn’t come back no more, and what a stir there was when Jim run away; and I told Tom all about our Royal Nonesuch rapscallions, and as much of the raft voyage as I had time to; and as we struck into the town and up through the the middle of it — it was as much as half-after eight, then — here comes a raging rush of people with torches, and an awful whooping and yelling, and banging tin pans and blowing horns; and we jumped to one side to let them go by; and as they went by I see they had the king and the duke astraddle of a rail — that is, I knowed it was the king and the duke, though they was all over tar and feathers, and didn’t look like nothing in the world that was human — just looked like a couple of monstrous big soldier-plumes. Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry for them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn’t ever feel any hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to see. Human beings can be awful cruel to one another.
+
+We see we was too late — couldn’t do no good. We asked some stragglers about it, and they said everybody went to the show looking very innocent; and laid low and kept dark till the poor old king was in the middle of his cavortings on the stage; then somebody give a signal, and the house rose up and went for them.
+
+So we poked along back home, and I warn’t feeling so brash as I was before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow — though I hadn’t done nothing. But that’s always the way; it don’t make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person’s conscience ain’t got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that didn’t know no more than a person’s conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person’s insides, and yet ain’t no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+We stopped talking, and got to thinking. By-and-by Tom says:
+
+“Looky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is.”
+
+“No! Where?”
+
+“In that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn’t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What did you think the vittles was for?”
+
+“For a dog.”
+
+“So’d I. Well, it wasn’t for a dog.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because part of it was watermelon.”
+
+“So it was — I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don’t see at the same time.”
+
+“Well, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table — same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain’t likely there’s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people’s all so kind and good. Jim’s the prisoner. All right — I’m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn’t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we’ll take the one we like the best.”
+
+What a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer’s head I wouldn’t trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right plan was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says:
+
+“Ready?”
+
+“Yes,” I says.
+
+“All right — bring it out.”
+
+“My plan is this,” I says. “We can easy find out if it’s Jim in there. Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the old man’s britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim used to do before. Wouldn’t that plan work?”
+
+“Work? Why, cert’nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it’s too blame’ simple; there ain’t nothing to it. What’s the good of a plan that ain’t no more trouble than that? It’s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn’t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.”
+
+I never said nothing, because I warn’t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn’t have none of them objections to it.
+
+And it didn’t. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man as mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, and said we would waltz in on it. I needn’t tell what it was here, because I knowed it wouldn’t stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be changing it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done.
+
+Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn’t understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I did start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says:
+
+“Don’t you reckon I know what I’m about? Don’t I generly know what I’m about?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Didn’t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, then.”
+
+That’s all he said, and that’s all I said. It warn’t no use to say any more; because when he said he’d do a thing, he always done it. But I couldn’t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I couldn’t help it.
+
+When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn’t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn’t acquainted with — which was the north side — we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:
+
+“Here’s the ticket. This hole’s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.”
+
+Tom says:
+
+“It’s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that’s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.”
+
+“Well, then,” I says, “how’ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?”
+
+“That’s more like,” he says. “It’s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,” he says; “but I bet we can find a way that’s twice as long. There ain’t no hurry; le’s keep on looking around.”
+
+Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow — only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn’t no connection with it; and there warn’t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;
+
+“Now we’re all right. We’ll dig him out. It’ll take about a week!”
+
+Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door — you only have to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don’t fasten the doors — but that warn’t romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must climb up the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted his brains out, he thought he’d got to give it up; but after he was rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time he made the trip.
+
+In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim — if it was Jim that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through breakfast and starting for the fields; and Jim’s nigger was piling up a tin pan with bread and meat and things; and whilst the others was leaving, the key come from the house.
+
+This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn’t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he’d been a-going to do. So Tom says:
+
+“What’s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?”
+
+The nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:
+
+“Yes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur’us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at ’im?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+I hunched Tom, and whispers:
+
+“You going, right here in the daybreak? That warn’t the plan.”
+
+“No, it warn’t; but it’s the plan now.”
+
+So, drat him, we went along, but I didn’t like it much. When we got in we couldn’t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:
+
+“Why, Huck! En good lan’! ain’ dat Misto Tom?”
+
+I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn’t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn’t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:
+
+“Why, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?”
+
+We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:
+
+“Does who know us?”
+
+“Why, dis-yer runaway nigger.”
+
+“I don’t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?”
+
+“What put it dar? Didn’ he jis’ dis minute sing out like he knowed you?”
+
+Tom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:
+
+“Well, that’s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?” And turns to me, perfectly ca’m, and says, “Did you hear anybody sing out?”
+
+Of course there warn’t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:
+
+“No; I ain’t heard nobody say nothing.”
+
+Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:
+
+“Did you sing out?”
+
+“No, sah,” says Jim; “I hain’t said nothing, sah.”
+
+“Not a word?”
+
+“No, sah, I hain’t said a word.”
+
+“Did you ever see us before?”
+
+“No, sah; not as I knows on.”
+
+So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:
+
+“What do you reckon’s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?”
+
+“Oh, it’s de dad-blame’ witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey’s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos’ kill me, dey sk’yers me so. Please to don’t tell nobody ’bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he’ll scole me; ’kase he say dey ain’t no witches. I jis’ wish to goodness he was heah now — den what would he say! I jis’ bet he couldn’ fine no way to git aroun’ it dis time. But it’s awluz jis’ so; people dat’s sot, stays sot; dey won’t look into noth’n’en fine it out f’r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um ’bout it, dey doan’ b’lieve you.”
+
+Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn’t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:
+
+“I wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn’t give him up, I’d hang him.” And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says:
+
+“Don’t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it’s us; we’re going to set you free.”
+
+Jim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger come back, and we said we’d come again some time if the nigger wanted us to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks around then.
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+It would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down into the woods; because Tom said we got to have some light to see how to dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble; what we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that’s called fox-fire, and just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a dark place. We fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down to rest, and Tom says, kind of dissatisfied:
+
+“Blame it, this whole thing is just as easy and awkward as it can be. And so it makes it so rotten difficult to get up a difficult plan. There ain’t no watchman to be drugged — now there ought to be a watchman. There ain’t even a dog to give a sleeping-mixture to. And there’s Jim chained by one leg, with a ten-foot chain, to the leg of his bed: why, all you got to do is to lift up the bedstead and slip off the chain. And Uncle Silas he trusts everybody; sends the key to the punkin-headed nigger, and don’t send nobody to watch the nigger. Jim could a got out of that window-hole before this, only there wouldn’t be no use trying to travel with a ten-foot chain on his leg. Why, drat it, Huck, it’s the stupidest arrangement I ever see. You got to invent all the difficulties. Well, we can’t help it; we got to do the best we can with the materials we’ve got. Anyhow, there’s one thing — there’s more honor in getting him out through a lot of difficulties and dangers, where there warn’t one of them furnished to you by the people who it was their duty to furnish them, and you had to contrive them all out of your own head. Now look at just that one thing of the lantern. When you come down to the cold facts, we simply got to let on that a lantern’s resky. Why, we could work with a torchlight procession if we wanted to, I believe. Now, whilst I think of it, we got to hunt up something to make a saw out of the first chance we get.”
+
+“What do we want of a saw?”
+
+“What do we want of it? Hain’t we got to saw the leg of Jim’s bed off, so as to get the chain loose?”
+
+“Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain off.”
+
+“Well, if that ain’t just like you, Huck Finn. You can get up the infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain’t you ever read any books at all? — Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, nor Henri IV., nor none of them heroes? Who ever heard of getting a prisoner loose in such an old-maidy way as that? No; the way all the best authorities does is to saw the bed-leg in two, and leave it just so, and swallow the sawdust, so it can’t be found, and put some dirt and grease around the sawed place so the very keenest seneskal can’t see no sign of it’s being sawed, and thinks the bed-leg is perfectly sound. Then, the night you’re ready, fetch the leg a kick, down she goes; slip off your chain, and there you are. Nothing to do but hitch your rope ladder to the battlements, shin down it, break your leg in the moat — because a rope ladder is nineteen foot too short, you know — and there’s your horses and your trusty vassles, and they scoop you up and fling you across a saddle, and away you go to your native Langudoc, or Navarre, or wherever it is. It’s gaudy, Huck. I wish there was a moat to this cabin. If we get time, the night of the escape, we’ll dig one.”
+
+I says:
+
+“What do we want of a moat when we’re going to snake him out from under the cabin?”
+
+But he never heard me. He had forgot me and everything else. He had his chin in his hand, thinking. Pretty soon he sighs and shakes his head; then sighs again, and says:
+
+“No, it wouldn’t do — there ain’t necessity enough for it.”
+
+“For what?” I says.
+
+“Why, to saw Jim’s leg off,” he says.
+
+“Good land!” I says; “why, there ain’t no necessity for it. And what would you want to saw his leg off for, anyway?”
+
+“Well, some of the best authorities has done it. They couldn’t get the chain off, so they just cut their hand off and shoved. And a leg would be better still. But we got to let that go. There ain’t necessity enough in this case; and, besides, Jim’s a nigger, and wouldn’t understand the reasons for it, and how it’s the custom in Europe; so we’ll let it go. But there’s one thing — he can have a rope ladder; we can tear up our sheets and make him a rope ladder easy enough. And we can send it to him in a pie; it’s mostly done that way. And I’ve et worse pies.”
+
+“Why, Tom Sawyer, how you talk,” I says; “Jim ain’t got no use for a rope ladder.”
+
+“He has got use for it. How you talk, you better say; you don’t know nothing about it. He’s got to have a rope ladder; they all do.”
+
+“What in the nation can he do with it?”
+
+“Do with it? He can hide it in his bed, can’t he?” That’s what they all do; and he’s got to, too. Huck, you don’t ever seem to want to do anything that’s regular; you want to be starting something fresh all the time. S’pose he don’t do nothing with it? ain’t it there in his bed, for a clew, after he’s gone? and don’t you reckon they’ll want clews? Of course they will. And you wouldn’t leave them any? That would be a pretty howdy-do, wouldn’t it! I never heard of such a thing.”
+
+“Well,” I says, “if it’s in the regulations, and he’s got to have it, all right, let him have it; because I don’t wish to go back on no regulations; but there’s one thing, Tom Sawyer — if we go to tearing up our sheets to make Jim a rope ladder, we’re going to get into trouble with Aunt Sally, just as sure as you’re born. Now, the way I look at it, a hickry-bark ladder don’t cost nothing, and don’t waste nothing, and is just as good to load up a pie with, and hide in a straw tick, as any rag ladder you can start; and as for Jim, he ain’t had no experience, and so he don’t care what kind of a — ”
+
+“Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, if I was as ignorant as you I’d keep still — that’s what I’d do. Who ever heard of a state prisoner escaping by a hickry-bark ladder? Why, it’s perfectly ridiculous.”
+
+“Well, all right, Tom, fix it your own way; but if you’ll take my advice, you’ll let me borrow a sheet off of the clothesline.”
+
+He said that would do. And that gave him another idea, and he says:
+
+“Borrow a shirt, too.”
+
+“What do we want of a shirt, Tom?”
+
+“Want it for Jim to keep a journal on.”
+
+“Journal your granny — Jim can’t write.”
+
+“S’pose he can’t write — he can make marks on the shirt, can’t he, if we make him a pen out of an old pewter spoon or a piece of an old iron barrel-hoop?”
+
+“Why, Tom, we can pull a feather out of a goose and make him a better one; and quicker, too.”
+
+“Prisoners don’t have geese running around the donjon-keep to pull pens out of, you muggins. They always make their pens out of the hardest, toughest, troublesomest piece of old brass candlestick or something like that they can get their hands on; and it takes them weeks and weeks and months and months to file it out, too, because they’ve got to do it by rubbing it on the wall. They wouldn’t use a goose-quill if they had it. It ain’t regular.”
+
+“Well, then, what’ll we make him the ink out of?”
+
+“Many makes it out of iron-rust and tears; but that’s the common sort and women; the best authorities uses their own blood. Jim can do that; and when he wants to send any little common ordinary mysterious message to let the world know where he’s captivated, he can write it on the bottom of a tin plate with a fork and throw it out of the window. The Iron Mask always done that, and it’s a blame’ good way, too.”
+
+“Jim ain’t got no tin plates. They feed him in a pan.”
+
+“That ain’t nothing; we can get him some.”
+
+“Can’t nobody read his plates.”
+
+“That ain’t got anything to do with it, Huck Finn. All he’s got to do is to write on the plate and throw it out. You don’t have to be able to read it. Why, half the time you can’t read anything a prisoner writes on a tin plate, or anywhere else.”
+
+“Well, then, what’s the sense in wasting the plates?”
+
+“Why, blame it all, it ain’t the prisoner’s plates.”
+
+“But it’s somebody’s plates, ain’t it?”
+
+“Well, spos’n it is? What does the prisoner care whose — ”
+
+He broke off there, because we heard the breakfast-horn blowing. So we cleared out for the house.
+
+Along during the morning I borrowed a sheet and a white shirt off of the clothes-line; and I found an old sack and put them in it, and we went down and got the fox-fire, and put that in too. I called it borrowing, because that was what pap always called it; but Tom said it warn’t borrowing, it was stealing. He said we was representing prisoners; and prisoners don’t care how they get a thing so they get it, and nobody don’t blame them for it, either. It ain’t no crime in a prisoner to steal the thing he needs to get away with, Tom said; it’s his right; and so, as long as we was representing a prisoner, we had a perfect right to steal anything on this place we had the least use for to get ourselves out of prison with. He said if we warn’t prisoners it would be a very different thing, and nobody but a mean, ornery person would steal when he warn’t a prisoner. So we allowed we would steal everything there was that come handy. And yet he made a mighty fuss, one day, after that, when I stole a watermelon out of the nigger-patch and eat it; and he made me go and give the niggers a dime without telling them what it was for. Tom said that what he meant was, we could steal anything we needed. Well, I says, I needed the watermelon. But he said I didn’t need it to get out of prison with; there’s where the difference was. He said if I’d a wanted it to hide a knife in, and smuggle it to Jim to kill the seneskal with, it would a been all right. So I let it go at that, though I couldn’t see no advantage in my representing a prisoner if I got to set down and chaw over a lot of gold-leaf distinctions like that every time I see a chance to hog a watermelon.
+
+Well, as I was saying, we waited that morning till everybody was settled down to business, and nobody in sight around the yard; then Tom he carried the sack into the lean-to whilst I stood off a piece to keep watch. By-and-by he come out, and we went and set down on the woodpile to talk. He says:
+
+“Everything’s all right now except tools; and that’s easy fixed.”
+
+“Tools?” I says.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Tools for what?”
+
+“Why, to dig with. We ain’t a-going to gnaw him out, are we?”
+
+“Ain’t them old crippled picks and things in there good enough to dig a nigger out with?” I says.
+
+He turns on me, looking pitying enough to make a body cry, and says:
+
+“Huck Finn, did you ever hear of a prisoner having picks and shovels, and all the modern conveniences in his wardrobe to dig himself out with? Now I want to ask you — if you got any reasonableness in you at all — what kind of a show would that give him to be a hero? Why, they might as well lend him the key and done with it. Picks and shovels — why, they wouldn’t furnish ’em to a king.”
+
+“Well, then,” I says, “if we don’t want the picks and shovels, what do we want?”
+
+“A couple of case-knives.”
+
+“To dig the foundations out from under that cabin with?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Confound it, it’s foolish, Tom.”
+
+“It don’t make no difference how foolish it is, it’s the right way — and it’s the regular way. And there ain’t no other way, that ever I heard of, and I’ve read all the books that gives any information about these things. They always dig out with a case-knife — and not through dirt, mind you; generly it’s through solid rock. And it takes them weeks and weeks and weeks, and for ever and ever. Why, look at one of them prisoners in the bottom dungeon of the Castle Deef, in the harbor of Marseilles, that dug himself out that way; how long was he at it, you reckon?”
+
+“I don’t know.”
+
+“Well, guess.”
+
+“I don’t know. A month and a half.”
+
+“Thirty-seven year — and he come out in China. That’s the kind. I wish the bottom of this fortress was solid rock.”
+
+“Jim don’t know nobody in China.”
+
+“What’s that got to do with it? Neither did that other fellow. But you’re always a-wandering off on a side issue. Why can’t you stick to the main point?”
+
+“All right — I don’t care where he comes out, so he comes out; and Jim don’t, either, I reckon. But there’s one thing, anyway — Jim’s too old to be dug out with a case-knife. He won’t last.”
+
+“Yes he will last, too. You don’t reckon it’s going to take thirty-seven years to dig out through a dirt foundation, do you?”
+
+“How long will it take, Tom?”
+
+“Well, we can’t resk being as long as we ought to, because it mayn’t take very long for Uncle Silas to hear from down there by New Orleans. He’ll hear Jim ain’t from there. Then his next move will be to advertise Jim, or something like that. So we can’t resk being as long digging him out as we ought to. By rights I reckon we ought to be a couple of years; but we can’t. Things being so uncertain, what I recommend is this: that we really dig right in, as quick as we can; and after that, we can let on, to ourselves, that we was at it thirty-seven years. Then we can snatch him out and rush him away the first time there’s an alarm. Yes, I reckon that’ll be the best way.”
+
+“Now, there’s sense in that,” I says. “Letting on don’t cost nothing; letting on ain’t no trouble; and if it’s any object, I don’t mind letting on we was at it a hundred and fifty year. It wouldn’t strain me none, after I got my hand in. So I’ll mosey along now, and smouch a couple of case-knives.”
+
+“Smouch three,” he says; “we want one to make a saw out of.”
+
+“Tom, if it ain’t unregular and irreligious to sejest it,” I says, “there’s an old rusty saw-blade around yonder sticking under the weather-boarding behind the smoke-house.”
+
+He looked kind of weary and discouraged-like, and says:
+
+“It ain’t no use to try to learn you nothing, Huck. Run along and smouch the knives — three of them.” So I done it.
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+As soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down the lightning-rod, and shut ourselves up in the lean-to, and got out our pile of fox-fire, and went to work. We cleared everything out of the way, about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. Tom said he was right behind Jim’s bed now, and we’d dig in under it, and when we got through there couldn’t nobody in the cabin ever know there was any hole there, because Jim’s counter-pin hung down most to the ground, and you’d have to raise it up and look under to see the hole. So we dug and dug with the case-knives till most midnight; and then we was dog-tired, and our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn’t see we’d done anything hardly. At last I says:
+
+“This ain’t no thirty-seven year job; this is a thirty-eight year job, Tom Sawyer.”
+
+He never said nothing. But he sighed, and pretty soon he stopped digging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking. Then he says:
+
+“It ain’t no use, Huck, it ain’t a-going to work. If we was prisoners it would, because then we’d have as many years as we wanted, and no hurry; and we wouldn’t get but a few minutes to dig, every day, while they was changing watches, and so our hands wouldn’t get blistered, and we could keep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right, and the way it ought to be done. But we can’t fool along; we got to rush; we ain’t got no time to spare. If we was to put in another night this way we’d have to knock off for a week to let our hands get well — couldn’t touch a case-knife with them sooner.”
+
+“Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?”
+
+“I’ll tell you. It ain’t right, and it ain’t moral, and I wouldn’t like it to get out; but there ain’t only just the one way: we got to dig him out with the picks, and let on it’s case-knives.”
+
+“Now you’re talking!” I says; “your head gets leveler and leveler all the time, Tom Sawyer,” I says. “Picks is the thing, moral or no moral; and as for me, I don’t care shucks for the morality of it, nohow. When I start in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sunday-school book, I ain’t no ways particular how it’s done so it’s done. What I want is my nigger; or what I want is my watermelon; or what I want is my Sunday-school book; and if a pick’s the handiest thing, that’s the thing I’m a-going to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sunday-school book out with; and I don’t give a dead rat what the authorities thinks about it nuther.”
+
+“Well,” he says, “there’s excuse for picks and letting-on in a case like this; if it warn’t so, I wouldn’t approve of it, nor I wouldn’t stand by and see the rules broke — because right is right, and wrong is wrong, and a body ain’t got no business doing wrong when he ain’t ignorant and knows better. It might answer for you to dig Jim out with a pick, without any letting on, because you don’t know no better; but it wouldn’t for me, because I do know better. Gimme a case-knife.”
+
+He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. He flung it down, and says:
+
+“Gimme a case-knife.”
+
+I didn’t know just what to do — but then I thought. I scratched around amongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he took it and went to work, and never said a word.
+
+He was always just that particular. Full of principle.
+
+So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about, and made the fur fly. We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was as long as we could stand up; but we had a good deal of a hole to show for it. When I got up stairs I looked out at the window and see Tom doing his level best with the lightning-rod, but he couldn’t come it, his hands was so sore. At last he says:
+
+“It ain’t no use, it can’t be done. What you reckon I better do? Can’t you think of no way?”
+
+“Yes,” I says, “but I reckon it ain’t regular. Come up the stairs, and let on it’s a lightning-rod.”
+
+So he done it.
+
+Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house, for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles; and I hung around the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tin plates. Tom says it wasn’t enough; but I said nobody wouldn’t ever see the plates that Jim throwed out, because they’d fall in the dog-fennel and jimpson weeds under the window-hole — then we could tote them back and he could use them over again. So Tom was satisfied. Then he says:
+
+“Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim.”
+
+“Take them in through the hole,” I says, “when we get it done.”
+
+He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heard of such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. By-and-by he said he had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn’t no need to decide on any of them yet. Said we’d got to post Jim first.
+
+That night we went down the lightning-rod a little after ten, and took one of the candles along, and listened under the window-hole, and heard Jim snoring; so we pitched it in, and it didn’t wake him. Then we whirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a half the job was done. We crept in under Jim’s bed and into the cabin, and pawed around and found the candle and lit it, and stood over Jim awhile, and found him looking hearty and healthy, and then we woke him up gentle and gradual. He was so glad to see us he most cried; and called us honey, and all the pet names he could think of; and was for having us hunt up a cold-chisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away, and clearing out without losing any time. But Tom he showed him how unregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans, and how we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm; and not to be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, sure. So Jim he said it was all right, and we set there and talked over old times awhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim told him Uncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and Aunt Sally come in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, and both of them was kind as they could be, Tom says:
+
+“Now I know how to fix it. We’ll send you some things by them.”
+
+I said, “Don’t do nothing of the kind; it’s one of the most jackass ideas I ever struck;” but he never paid no attention to me; went right on. It was his way when he’d got his plans set.
+
+So he told Jim how we’d have to smuggle in the rope-ladder pie and other large things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on the lookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them; and we would put small things in uncle’s coat-pockets and he must steal them out; and we would tie things to aunt’s apron-strings or put them in her apron-pocket, if we got a chance; and told him what they would be and what they was for. And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt with his blood, and all that. He told him everything. Jim he couldn’t see no sense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowed better than him; so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all just as Tom said.
+
+Jim had plenty corn-cob pipes and tobacco; so we had a right down good sociable time; then we crawled out through the hole, and so home to bed, with hands that looked like they’d been chawed. Tom was in high spirits. He said it was the best fun he ever had in his life, and the most intellectural; and said if he only could see his way to it we would keep it up all the rest of our lives and leave Jim to our children to get out; for he believed Jim would come to like it better and better the more he got used to it. He said that in that way it could be strung out to as much as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. And he said it would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it.
+
+In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brass candlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon in his pocket. Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat’s notice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of a corn-pone that was in Jim’s pan, and we went along with Nat to see how it would work, and it just worked noble; when Jim bit into it it most mashed all his teeth out; and there warn’t ever anything could a worked better. Tom said so himself. Jim he never let on but what it was only just a piece of rock or something like that that’s always getting into bread, you know; but after that he never bit into nothing but what he jabbed his fork into it in three or four places first.
+
+And whilst we was a-standing there in the dimmish light, here comes a couple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim’s bed; and they kept on piling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn’t hardly room in there to get your breath. By jings, we forgot to fasten that lean-to door! The nigger Nat he only just hollered “Witches” once, and keeled over on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he was dying. Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim’s meat, and the dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and back again and shut the door, and I knowed he’d fixed the other door too. Then he went to work on the nigger, coaxing him and petting him, and asking him if he’d been imagining he saw something again. He raised up, and blinked his eyes around, and says:
+
+“Mars Sid, you’ll say I’s a fool, but if I didn’t b’lieve I see most a million dogs, er devils, er some’n, I wisht I may die right heah in dese tracks. I did, mos’ sholy. Mars Sid, I felt um — I felt um, sah; dey was all over me. Dad fetch it, I jis’ wisht I could git my han’s on one er dem witches jis’ wunst — on’y jis’ wunst — it’s all I’d ast. But mos’ly I wisht dey’d lemme ’lone, I does.”
+
+Tom says:
+
+“Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at this runaway nigger’s breakfast-time? It’s because they’re hungry; that’s the reason. You make them a witch pie; that’s the thing for you to do.”
+
+“But my lan’, Mars Sid, how’s I gwyne to make ’m a witch pie? I doan’ know how to make it. I hain’t ever hearn er sich a thing b’fo’.”
+
+“Well, then, I’ll have to make it myself.”
+
+“Will you do it, honey? — will you? I’ll wusshup de groun’ und’ yo’ foot, I will!”
+
+“All right, I’ll do it, seeing it’s you, and you’ve been good to us and showed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful. When we come around, you turn your back; and then whatever we’ve put in the pan, don’t you let on you see it at all. And don’t you look when Jim unloads the pan — something might happen, I don’t know what. And above all, don’t you handle the witch-things.”
+
+“Hannel ’m, Mars Sid? What is you a-talkin’ ’bout? I wouldn’ lay de weight er my finger on um, not f’r ten hund’d thous’n billion dollars, I wouldn’t.”
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+That was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbage-pile in the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces of bottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such truck, and scratched around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well as we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it full of flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shingle-nails that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name and sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in Aunt Sally’s apron-pocket which was hanging on a chair, and t’other we stuck in the band of Uncle Silas’s hat, which was on the bureau, because we heard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger’s house this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped the pewter spoon in Uncle Silas’s coat-pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn’t come yet, so we had to wait a little while.
+
+And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn’t hardly wait for the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one hand and cracking the handiest child’s head with her thimble with the other, and says:
+
+“I’ve hunted high and I’ve hunted low, and it does beat all what has become of your other shirt.”
+
+My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard piece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on the road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the children in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a cry out of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue around the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things for about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold out for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all right again — it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. Uncle Silas he says:
+
+“It’s most uncommon curious, I can’t understand it. I know perfectly well I took it off, because — ”
+
+“Because you hain’t got but one on. Just listen at the man! I know you took it off, and know it by a better way than your wool-gethering memory, too, because it was on the clo’s-line yesterday — I see it there myself. But it’s gone, that’s the long and the short of it, and you’ll just have to change to a red flann’l one till I can get time to make a new one. And it’ll be the third I’ve made in two years. It just keeps a body on the jump to keep you in shirts; and whatever you do manage to do with ’m all is more’n I can make out. A body ’d think you would learn to take some sort of care of ’em at your time of life.”
+
+“I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn’t to be altogether my fault, because, you know, I don’t see them nor have nothing to do with them except when they’re on me; and I don’t believe I’ve ever lost one of them off of me.”
+
+“Well, it ain’t your fault if you haven’t, Silas; you’d a done it if you could, I reckon. And the shirt ain’t all that’s gone, nuther. Ther’s a spoon gone; and that ain’t all. There was ten, and now ther’s only nine. The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never took the spoon, that’s certain.”
+
+“Why, what else is gone, Sally?”
+
+“Ther’s six candles gone — that’s what. The rats could a got the candles, and I reckon they did; I wonder they don’t walk off with the whole place, the way you’re always going to stop their holes and don’t do it; and if they warn’t fools they’d sleep in your hair, Silas — you’d never find it out; but you can’t lay the spoon on the rats, and that I know.”
+
+“Well, Sally, I’m in fault, and I acknowledge it; I’ve been remiss; but I won’t let to-morrow go by without stopping up them holes.”
+
+“Oh, I wouldn’t hurry; next year’ll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta Phelps!”
+
+Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the sugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps on to the passage, and says:
+
+“Missus, dey’s a sheet gone.”
+
+“A sheet gone! Well, for the land’s sake!”
+
+“I’ll stop up them holes to-day,” says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful.
+
+“Oh, do shet up! — s’pose the rats took the sheet? Where’s it gone, Lize?”
+
+“Clah to goodness I hain’t no notion, Miss’ Sally. She wuz on de clo’sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain’ dah no mo’ now.”
+
+“I reckon the world is coming to an end. I never see the beat of it in all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can — ”
+
+“Missus,” comes a young yaller wench, “dey’s a brass cannelstick miss’n.”
+
+“Cler out from here, you hussy, er I’ll take a skillet to ye!”
+
+Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned I would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She kept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and everybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, looking kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, with her mouth open and her hands up; and as for me, I wished I was in Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says:
+
+“It’s just as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time; and like as not you’ve got the other things there, too. How’d it get there?”
+
+“I reely don’t know, Sally,” he says, kind of apologizing, “or you know I would tell. I was a-studying over my text in Acts Seventeen before breakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to put my Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain’t in; but I’ll go and see; and if the Testament is where I had it, I’ll know I didn’t put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down and took up the spoon, and — ”
+
+“Oh, for the land’s sake! Give a body a rest! Go ’long now, the whole kit and biling of ye; and don’t come nigh me again till I’ve got back my peace of mind.”
+
+I’d a heard her if she’d a said it to herself, let alone speaking it out; and I’d a got up and obeyed her if I’d a been dead. As we was passing through the setting-room the old man he took up his hat, and the shingle-nail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and laid it on the mantel-shelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tom see him do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says:
+
+“Well, it ain’t no use to send things by him no more, he ain’t reliable.” Then he says: “But he done us a good turn with the spoon, anyway, without knowing it, and so we’ll go and do him one without him knowing it — stop up his rat-holes.”
+
+There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a whole hour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heard steps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid; and here comes the old man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t’other, looking as absent-minded as year before last. He went a mooning around, first to one rat-hole and then another, till he’d been to them all. Then he stood about five minutes, picking tallow-drip off of his candle and thinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, saying:
+
+“Well, for the life of me I can’t remember when I done it. I could show her now that I warn’t to blame on account of the rats. But never mind — let it go. I reckon it wouldn’t do no good.”
+
+And so he went on a-mumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was a mighty nice old man. And always is.
+
+Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he said we’d got to have it; so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out he told me how we was to do; then we went and waited around the spoon-basket till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoons and laying them out to one side, and I slid one of them up my sleeve, and Tom says:
+
+“Why, Aunt Sally, there ain’t but nine spoons yet.”
+
+She says:
+
+“Go ’long to your play, and don’t bother me. I know better, I counted ’m myself.”
+
+“Well, I’ve counted them twice, Aunty, and I can’t make but nine.”
+
+She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to count — anybody would.
+
+“I declare to gracious ther’ ain’t but nine!” she says. “Why, what in the world — plague take the things, I’ll count ’m again.”
+
+So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, she says:
+
+“Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther’s ten now!” and she looked huffy and bothered both. But Tom says:
+
+“Why, Aunty, I don’t think there’s ten.”
+
+“You numskull, didn’t you see me count ’m?”
+
+“I know, but — ”
+
+“Well, I’ll count ’m again.”
+
+So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, she was in a tearing way — just a-trembling all over, she was so mad. But she counted and counted till she got that addled she’d start to count in the basket for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they come out right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up the basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galley-west; and she said cle’r out and let her have some peace, and if we come bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she’d skin us. So we had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst she was a-giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with her shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with this business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, because he said now she couldn’t ever count them spoons twice alike again to save her life; and wouldn’t believe she’d counted them right if she did; and said that after she’d about counted her head off for the next three days he judged she’d give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her to ever count them any more.
+
+So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of her closet; and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a couple of days till she didn’t know how many sheets she had any more, and she didn’t care, and warn’t a-going to bullyrag the rest of her soul out about it, and wouldn’t count them again not to save her life; she druther die first.
+
+So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon and the candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixed-up counting; and as to the candlestick, it warn’t no consequence, it would blow over by-and-by.
+
+But that pie was a job; we had no end of trouble with that pie. We fixed it up away down in the woods, and cooked it there; and we got it done at last, and very satisfactory, too; but not all in one day; and we had to use up three wash-pans full of flour before we got through, and we got burnt pretty much all over, in places, and eyes put out with the smoke; because, you see, we didn’t want nothing but a crust, and we couldn’t prop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course we thought of the right way at last — which was to cook the ladder, too, in the pie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore up the sheet all in little strings and twisted them together, and long before daylight we had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person with. We let on it took nine months to make it.
+
+And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn’t go into the pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope enough for forty pies if we’d a wanted them, and plenty left over for soup, or sausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole dinner.
+
+But we didn’t need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, and so we throwed the rest away. We didn’t cook none of the pies in the wash-pan — afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noble brass warming-pan which he thought considerable of, because it belonged to one of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over from England with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them early ships and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and things that was valuable, not on account of being any account, because they warn’t, but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked her out, private, and took her down there, but she failed on the first pies, because we didn’t know how, but she come up smiling on the last one. We took and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and loaded her up with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the lid, and put hot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long handle, cool and comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a pie that was a satisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would want to fetch a couple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope ladder wouldn’t cramp him down to business I don’t know nothing what I’m talking about, and lay him in enough stomach-ache to last him till next time, too.
+
+Nat didn’t look when we put the witch pie in Jim’s pan; and we put the three tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles; and so Jim got everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted into the pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, and scratched some marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the window-hole.
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+Making them pens was a distressid tough job, and so was the saw; and Jim allowed the inscription was going to be the toughest of all. That’s the one which the prisoner has to scrabble on the wall. But he had to have it; Tom said he’d got to; there warn’t no case of a state prisoner not scrabbling his inscription to leave behind, and his coat of arms.
+
+“Look at Lady Jane Grey,” he says; “look at Gilford Dudley; look at old Northumberland! Why, Huck, s’pose it is considerble trouble? — what you going to do? — how you going to get around it? Jim’s got to do his inscription and coat of arms. They all do.”
+
+Jim says:
+
+“Why, Mars Tom, I hain’t got no coat o’ arm; I hain’t got nuffn but dish yer ole shirt, en you knows I got to keep de journal on dat.”
+
+“Oh, you don’t understand, Jim; a coat of arms is very different.”
+
+“Well,” I says, “Jim’s right, anyway, when he says he ain’t got no coat of arms, because he hain’t.”
+
+“I reckon I knowed that,” Tom says, “but you bet he’ll have one before he goes out of this — because he’s going out right, and there ain’t going to be no flaws in his record.”
+
+So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jim a-making his’n out of the brass and I making mine out of the spoon, Tom set to work to think out the coat of arms. By-and-by he said he’d struck so many good ones he didn’t hardly know which to take, but there was one which he reckoned he’d decide on. He says:
+
+“On the scutcheon we’ll have a bend or in the dexter base, a saltire murrey in the fess, with a dog, couchant, for common charge, and under his foot a chain embattled, for slavery, with a chevron vert in a chief engrailed, and three invected lines on a field azure, with the nombril points rampant on a dancette indented; crest, a runaway nigger, sable, with his bundle over his shoulder on a bar sinister; and a couple of gules for supporters, which is you and me; motto, Maggiore fretta, minore atto. Got it out of a book — means the more haste, the less speed.”
+
+“Geewhillikins,” I says, “but what does the rest of it mean?”
+
+“We ain’t got no time to bother over that,” he says; “we got to dig in like all git-out.”
+
+“Well, anyway,” I says, “what’s some of it? What’s a fess?”
+
+“A fess — a fess is — you don’t need to know what a fess is. I’ll show him how to make it when he gets to it.”
+
+“Shucks, Tom,” I says, “I think you might tell a person. What’s a bar sinister?”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know. But he’s got to have it. All the nobility does.”
+
+That was just his way. If it didn’t suit him to explain a thing to you, he wouldn’t do it. You might pump at him a week, it wouldn’t make no difference.
+
+He’d got all that coat of arms business fixed, so now he started in to finish up the rest of that part of the work, which was to plan out a mournful inscription — said Jim got to have one, like they all done. He made up a lot, and wrote them out on a paper, and read them off, so:
+
+1. Here a captive heart busted.
+
+2. Here a poor prisoner, forsook by the world and friends, fretted out his sorrowful life.
+
+3. Here a lonely heart broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirty-seven years of solitary captivity.
+
+4. Here, homeless and friendless, after thirty-seven years of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, natural son of Louis XIV.
+
+Tom’s voice trembled whilst he was reading them, and he most broke down. When he got done he couldn’t no way make up his mind which one for Jim to scrabble on to the wall, they was all so good; but at last he allowed he would let him scrabble them all on. Jim said it would take him a year to scrabble such a lot of truck on to the logs with a nail, and he didn’t know how to make letters, besides; but Tom said he would block them out for him, and then he wouldn’t have nothing to do but just follow the lines. Then pretty soon he says:
+
+“Come to think, the logs ain’t a-going to do; they don’t have log walls in a dungeon: we got to dig the inscriptions into a rock. We’ll fetch a rock.”
+
+Jim said the rock was worse than the logs; he said it would take him such a pison long time to dig them into a rock he wouldn’t ever get out. But Tom said he would let me help him do it. Then he took a look to see how me and Jim was getting along with the pens. It was most pesky tedious hard work and slow, and didn’t give my hands no show to get well of the sores, and we didn’t seem to make no headway, hardly; so Tom says:
+
+“I know how to fix it. We got to have a rock for the coat of arms and mournful inscriptions, and we can kill two birds with that same rock. There’s a gaudy big grindstone down at the mill, and we’ll smouch it, and carve the things on it, and file out the pens and the saw on it, too.”
+
+It warn’t no slouch of an idea; and it warn’t no slouch of a grindstone nuther; but we allowed we’d tackle it. It warn’t quite midnight yet, so we cleared out for the mill, leaving Jim at work. We smouched the grindstone, and set out to roll her home, but it was a most nation tough job. Sometimes, do what we could, we couldn’t keep her from falling over, and she come mighty near mashing us every time. Tom said she was going to get one of us, sure, before we got through. We got her half way; and then we was plumb played out, and most drownded with sweat. We see it warn’t no use; we got to go and fetch Jim. So he raised up his bed and slid the chain off of the bed-leg, and wrapt it round and round his neck, and we crawled out through our hole and down there, and Jim and me laid into that grindstone and walked her along like nothing; and Tom superintended. He could out-superintend any boy I ever see. He knowed how to do everything.
+
+Our hole was pretty big, but it warn’t big enough to get the grindstone through; but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tom marked out them things on it with the nail, and set Jim to work on them, with the nail for a chisel and an iron bolt from the rubbage in the lean-to for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candle quit on him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone under his straw tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back on the bed-leg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought of something, and says:
+
+“You got any spiders in here, Jim?”
+
+“No, sah, thanks to goodness I hain’t, Mars Tom.”
+
+“All right, we’ll get you some.”
+
+“But bless you, honey, I doan’ want none. I’s afeard un um. I jis’ ’s soon have rattlesnakes aroun’.”
+
+Tom thought a minute or two, and says:
+
+“It’s a good idea. And I reckon it’s been done. It must a been done; it stands to reason. Yes, it’s a prime good idea. Where could you keep it?”
+
+“Keep what, Mars Tom?”
+
+“Why, a rattlesnake.”
+
+“De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to come in heah I’d take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, wid my head.”
+
+“Why, Jim, you wouldn’t be afraid of it after a little. You could tame it.”
+
+“Tame it!”
+
+“Yes — easy enough. Every animal is grateful for kindness and petting, and they wouldn’t think of hurting a person that pets them. Any book will tell you that. You try — that’s all I ask; just try for two or three days. Why, you can get him so, in a little while, that he’ll love you; and sleep with you; and won’t stay away from you a minute; and will let you wrap him round your neck and put his head in your mouth.”
+
+“Please, Mars Tom — doan’ talk so! I can’t stan’ it! He’d let me shove his head in my mouf — fer a favor, hain’t it? I lay he’d wait a pow’ful long time ’fo’ I ast him. En mo’ en dat, I doan’ want him to sleep wid me.”
+
+“Jim, don’t act so foolish. A prisoner’s got to have some kind of a dumb pet, and if a rattlesnake hain’t ever been tried, why, there’s more glory to be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other way you could ever think of to save your life.”
+
+“Why, Mars Tom, I doan’ want no sich glory. Snake take ’n bite Jim’s chin off, den whah is de glory? No, sah, I doan’ want no sich doin’s.”
+
+“Blame it, can’t you try? I only want you to try — you needn’t keep it up if it don’t work.”
+
+“But de trouble all done ef de snake bite me while I’s a tryin’ him. Mars Tom, I’s willin’ to tackle mos’ anything ’at ain’t onreasonable, but ef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I’s gwyne to leave, dat’s shore.”
+
+“Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you’re so bull-headed about it. We can get you some garter-snakes, and you can tie some buttons on their tails, and let on they’re rattlesnakes, and I reckon that’ll have to do.”
+
+“I k’n stan’ dem, Mars Tom, but blame’ ’f I couldn’ get along widout um, I tell you dat. I never knowed b’fo’ ’t was so much bother and trouble to be a prisoner.”
+
+“Well, it always is when it’s done right. You got any rats around here?”
+
+“No, sah, I hain’t seed none.”
+
+“Well, we’ll get you some rats.”
+
+“Why, Mars Tom, I doan’ want no rats. Dey’s de dadblamedest creturs to ’sturb a body, en rustle roun’ over ’im, en bite his feet, when he’s tryin’ to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g’yarter-snakes, ’f I’s got to have ’m, but doan’ gimme no rats; I hain’ got no use f’r um, skasely.”
+
+“But, Jim, you got to have ’em — they all do. So don’t make no more fuss about it. Prisoners ain’t ever without rats. There ain’t no instance of it. And they train them, and pet them, and learn them tricks, and they get to be as sociable as flies. But you got to play music to them. You got anything to play music on?”
+
+“I ain’ got nuffn but a coase comb en a piece o’ paper, en a juice-harp; but I reck’n dey wouldn’ take no stock in a juice-harp.”
+
+“Yes they would. They don’t care what kind of music ’tis. A jews-harp’s plenty good enough for a rat. All animals like music — in a prison they dote on it. Specially, painful music; and you can’t get no other kind out of a jews-harp. It always interests them; they come out to see what’s the matter with you. Yes, you’re all right; you’re fixed very well. You want to set on your bed nights before you go to sleep, and early in the mornings, and play your jews-harp; play ‘The Last Link is Broken’ — that’s the thing that’ll scoop a rat quicker ’n anything else; and when you’ve played about two minutes you’ll see all the rats, and the snakes, and spiders, and things begin to feel worried about you, and come. And they’ll just fairly swarm over you, and have a noble good time.”
+
+“Yes, dey will, I reck’n, Mars Tom, but what kine er time is Jim havin’? Blest if I kin see de pint. But I’ll do it ef I got to. I reck’n I better keep de animals satisfied, en not have no trouble in de house.”
+
+Tom waited to think it over, and see if there wasn’t nothing else; and pretty soon he says:
+
+“Oh, there’s one thing I forgot. Could you raise a flower here, do you reckon?”
+
+“I doan know but maybe I could, Mars Tom; but it’s tolable dark in heah, en I ain’ got no use f’r no flower, nohow, en she’d be a pow’ful sight o’ trouble.”
+
+“Well, you try it, anyway. Some other prisoners has done it.”
+
+“One er dem big cat-tail-lookin’ mullen-stalks would grow in heah, Mars Tom, I reck’n, but she wouldn’t be wuth half de trouble she’d coss.”
+
+“Don’t you believe it. We’ll fetch you a little one and you plant it in the corner over there, and raise it. And don’t call it mullen, call it Pitchiola — that’s its right name when it’s in a prison. And you want to water it with your tears.”
+
+“Why, I got plenty spring water, Mars Tom.”
+
+“You don’t want spring water; you want to water it with your tears. It’s the way they always do.”
+
+“Why, Mars Tom, I lay I kin raise one er dem mullen-stalks twyste wid spring water whiles another man’s a start’n one wid tears.”
+
+“That ain’t the idea. You got to do it with tears.”
+
+“She’ll die on my han’s, Mars Tom, she sholy will; kase I doan’ skasely ever cry.”
+
+So Tom was stumped. But he studied it over, and then said Jim would have to worry along the best he could with an onion. He promised he would go to the nigger cabins and drop one, private, in Jim’s coffee-pot, in the morning. Jim said he would “jis’ ’s soon have tobacker in his coffee;” and found so much fault with it, and with the work and bother of raising the mullen, and jews-harping the rats, and petting and flattering up the snakes and spiders and things, on top of all the other work he had to do on pens, and inscriptions, and journals, and things, which made it more trouble and worry and responsibility to be a prisoner than anything he ever undertook, that Tom most lost all patience with him; and said he was just loadened down with more gaudier chances than a prisoner ever had in the world to make a name for himself, and yet he didn’t know enough to appreciate them, and they was just about wasted on him. So Jim he was sorry, and said he wouldn’t behave so no more, and then me and Tom shoved for bed.
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+In the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rat-trap and fetched it down, and unstopped the best rat-hole, and in about an hour we had fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones; and then we took it and put it in a safe place under Aunt Sally’s bed. But while we was gone for spiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps found it there, and opened the door of it to see if the rats would come out, and they did; and Aunt Sally she come in, and when we got back she was a-standing on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing what they could to keep off the dull times for her. So she took and dusted us both with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catching another fifteen or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn’t the likeliest, nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock. I never see a likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was.
+
+We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, and caterpillars, and one thing or another; and we like to got a hornet’s nest, but we didn’t. The family was at home. We didn’t give it right up, but stayed with them as long as we could; because we allowed we’d tire them out or they’d got to tire us out, and they done it. Then we got allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all right again, but couldn’t set down convenient. And so we went for the snakes, and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and house-snakes, and put them in a bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was supper-time, and a rattling good honest day’s work: and hungry? — oh, no, I reckon not! And there warn’t a blessed snake up there when we went back — we didn’t half tie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. But it didn’t matter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. So we judged we could get some of them again. No, there warn’t no real scarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. You’d see them dripping from the rafters and places every now and then; and they generly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and most of the time where you didn’t want them. Well, they was handsome and striped, and there warn’t no harm in a million of them; but that never made no difference to Aunt Sally; she despised snakes, be the breed what they might, and she couldn’t stand them no way you could fix it; and every time one of them flopped down on her, it didn’t make no difference what she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. I never see such a woman. And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. You couldn’t get her to take a-holt of one of them with the tongs. And if she turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift a howl that you would think the house was afire. She disturbed the old man so that he said he could most wish there hadn’t ever been no snakes created. Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of the house for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn’t over it yet; she warn’t near over it; when she was setting thinking about something you could touch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jump right out of her stockings. It was very curious. But Tom said all women was just so. He said they was made that way for some reason or other.
+
+We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and she allowed these lickings warn’t nothing to what she would do if we ever loaded up the place again with them. I didn’t mind the lickings, because they didn’t amount to nothing; but I minded the trouble we had to lay in another lot. But we got them laid in, and all the other things; and you never see a cabin as blithesome as Jim’s was when they’d all swarm out for music and go for him. Jim didn’t like the spiders, and the spiders didn’t like Jim; and so they’d lay for him, and make it mighty warm for him. And he said that between the rats and the snakes and the grindstone there warn’t no room in bed for him, skasely; and when there was, a body couldn’t sleep, it was so lively, and it was always lively, he said, because they never all slept at one time, but took turn about, so when the snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, and when the rats turned in the snakes come on watch, so he always had one gang under him, in his way, and t’other gang having a circus over him, and if he got up to hunt a new place the spiders would take a chance at him as he crossed over. He said if he ever got out this time he wouldn’t ever be a prisoner again, not for a salary.
+
+Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape. The shirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim he would get up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh; the pens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on the grindstone; the bed-leg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust, and it give us a most amazing stomach-ache. We reckoned we was all going to die, but didn’t. It was the most undigestible sawdust I ever see; and Tom said the same.
+
+But as I was saying, we’d got all the work done now, at last; and we was all pretty much fagged out, too, but mainly Jim. The old man had wrote a couple of times to the plantation below Orleans to come and get their runaway nigger, but hadn’t got no answer, because there warn’t no such plantation; so he allowed he would advertise Jim in the St. Louis and New Orleans papers; and when he mentioned the St. Louis ones it give me the cold shivers, and I see we hadn’t no time to lose. So Tom said, now for the nonnamous letters.
+
+“What’s them?” I says.
+
+“Warnings to the people that something is up. Sometimes it’s done one way, sometimes another. But there’s always somebody spying around that gives notice to the governor of the castle. When Louis XVI. was going to light out of the Tooleries, a servant-girl done it. It’s a very good way, and so is the nonnamous letters. We’ll use them both. And it’s usual for the prisoner’s mother to change clothes with him, and she stays in, and he slides out in her clothes. We’ll do that, too.”
+
+“But looky here, Tom, what do we want to warn anybody for that something’s up? Let them find it out for themselves — it’s their lookout.”
+
+“Yes, I know; but you can’t depend on them. It’s the way they’ve acted from the very start — left us to do everything. They’re so confiding and mullet-headed they don’t take notice of nothing at all. So if we don’t give them notice there won’t be nobody nor nothing to interfere with us, and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape ’ll go off perfectly flat; won’t amount to nothing — won’t be nothing to it.”
+
+“Well, as for me, Tom, that’s the way I’d like.”
+
+“Shucks!” he says, and looked disgusted. So I says:
+
+“But I ain’t going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suits me. What you going to do about the servant-girl?”
+
+“You’ll be her. You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook that yaller girl’s frock.”
+
+“Why, Tom, that’ll make trouble next morning; because, of course, she prob’bly hain’t got any but that one.”
+
+“I know; but you don’t want it but fifteen minutes, to carry the nonnamous letter and shove it under the front door.”
+
+“All right, then, I’ll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in my own togs.”
+
+“You wouldn’t look like a servant-girl then, would you?”
+
+“No, but there won’t be nobody to see what I look like, anyway.”
+
+“That ain’t got nothing to do with it. The thing for us to do is just to do our duty, and not worry about whether anybody sees us do it or not. Hain’t you got no principle at all?”
+
+“All right, I ain’t saying nothing; I’m the servant-girl. Who’s Jim’s mother?”
+
+“I’m his mother. I’ll hook a gown from Aunt Sally.”
+
+“Well, then, you’ll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves.”
+
+“Not much. I’ll stuff Jim’s clothes full of straw and lay it on his bed to represent his mother in disguise, and Jim ’ll take the nigger woman’s gown off of me and wear it, and we’ll all evade together. When a prisoner of style escapes it’s called an evasion. It’s always called so when a king escapes, f’rinstance. And the same with a king’s son; it don’t make no difference whether he’s a natural one or an unnatural one.”
+
+So Tom he wrote the nonnamous letter, and I smouched the yaller wench’s frock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, the way Tom told me to. It said:
+
+Beware. Trouble is brewing. Keep a sharp lookout. UNKNOWN FRIEND.
+
+Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in blood, of a skull and crossbones on the front door; and next night another one of a coffin on the back door. I never see a family in such a sweat. They couldn’t a been worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for them behind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. If a door banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said “ouch!” if anything fell, she jumped and said “ouch!” if you happened to touch her, when she warn’t noticing, she done the same; she couldn’t face noway and be satisfied, because she allowed there was something behind her every time — so she was always a-whirling around sudden, and saying “ouch,” and before she’d got two-thirds around she’d whirl back again, and say it again; and she was afraid to go to bed, but she dasn’t set up. So the thing was working very well, Tom said; he said he never see a thing work more satisfactory. He said it showed it was done right.
+
+So he said, now for the grand bulge! So the very next morning at the streak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what we better do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was going to have a nigger on watch at both doors all night. Tom he went down the lightning-rod to spy around; and the nigger at the back door was asleep, and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. This letter said:
+
+Don’t betray me, I wish to be your friend. There is a desprate gang of cutthroats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runaway nigger to-night, and they have been trying to scare you so as you will stay in the house and not bother them. I am one of the gang, but have got religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, and will betray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards, along the fence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in the nigger’s cabin to get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin horn if I see any danger; but stead of that I will BA like a sheep soon as they get in and not blow at all; then whilst they are getting his chains loose, you slip there and lock them in, and can kill them at your leasure. Don’t do anything but just the way I am telling you, if you do they will suspicion something and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing.
+
+UNKNOWN FRIEND
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+We was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and went over the river a-fishing, with a lunch, and had a good time, and took a look at the raft and found her all right, and got home late to supper, and found them in such a sweat and worry they didn’t know which end they was standing on, and made us go right off to bed the minute we was done supper, and wouldn’t tell us what the trouble was, and never let on a word about the new letter, but didn’t need to, because we knowed as much about it as anybody did, and as soon as we was half up stairs and her back was turned we slid for the cellar cupboard and loaded up a good lunch and took it up to our room and went to bed, and got up about half-past eleven, and Tom put on Aunt Sally’s dress that he stole and was going to start with the lunch, but says:
+
+“Where’s the butter?”
+
+“I laid out a hunk of it,” I says, “on a piece of a corn-pone.”
+
+“Well, you left it laid out, then — it ain’t here.”
+
+“We can get along without it,” I says.
+
+“We can get along with it, too,” he says; “just you slide down cellar and fetch it. And then mosey right down the lightning-rod and come along. I’ll go and stuff the straw into Jim’s clothes to represent his mother in disguise, and be ready to ba like a sheep and shove soon as you get there.”
+
+So out he went, and down cellar went I. The hunk of butter, big as a person’s fist, was where I had left it, so I took up the slab of corn-pone with it on, and blowed out my light, and started up stairs very stealthy, and got up to the main floor all right, but here comes Aunt Sally with a candle, and I clapped the truck in my hat, and clapped my hat on my head, and the next second she see me; and she says:
+
+“You been down cellar?”
+
+“Yes’m.”
+
+“What you been doing down there?”
+
+“Noth’n.”
+
+“Noth’n!”
+
+“No’m.”
+
+“Well, then, what possessed you to go down there this time of night?”
+
+“I don’t know ’m.”
+
+“You don’t know? Don’t answer me that way. Tom, I want to know what you been doing down there.”
+
+“I hain’t been doing a single thing, Aunt Sally, I hope to gracious if I have.”
+
+I reckoned she’d let me go now, and as a generl thing she would; but I s’pose there was so many strange things going on she was just in a sweat about every little thing that warn’t yard-stick straight; so she says, very decided:
+
+“You just march into that setting-room and stay there till I come. You been up to something you no business to, and I lay I’ll find out what it is before I’m done with you.”
+
+So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the setting-room. My, but there was a crowd there! Fifteen farmers, and every one of them had a gun. I was most powerful sick, and slunk to a chair and set down. They was setting around, some of them talking a little, in a low voice, and all of them fidgety and uneasy, but trying to look like they warn’t; but I knowed they was, because they was always taking off their hats, and putting them on, and scratching their heads, and changing their seats, and fumbling with their buttons. I warn’t easy myself, but I didn’t take my hat off, all the same.
+
+I did wish Aunt Sally would come, and get done with me, and lick me, if she wanted to, and let me get away and tell Tom how we’d overdone this thing, and what a thundering hornet’s-nest we’d got ourselves into, so we could stop fooling around straight off, and clear out with Jim before these rips got out of patience and come for us.
+
+At last she come and begun to ask me questions, but I couldn’t answer them straight, I didn’t know which end of me was up; because these men was in such a fidget now that some was wanting to start right now and lay for them desperadoes, and saying it warn’t but a few minutes to midnight; and others was trying to get them to hold on and wait for the sheep-signal; and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and me a-shaking all over and ready to sink down in my tracks I was that scared; and the place getting hotter and hotter, and the butter beginning to melt and run down my neck and behind my ears; and pretty soon, when one of them says, “I’m for going and getting in the cabin first and right now, and catching them when they come,” I most dropped; and a streak of butter come a-trickling down my forehead, and Aunt Sally she see it, and turns white as a sheet, and says:
+
+“For the land’s sake, what is the matter with the child? He’s got the brain-fever as shore as you’re born, and they’re oozing out!”
+
+And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes the bread and what was left of the butter, and she grabbed me, and hugged me, and says:
+
+“Oh, what a turn you did give me! and how glad and grateful I am it ain’t no worse; for luck’s against us, and it never rains but it pours, and when I see that truck I thought we’d lost you, for I knowed by the color and all it was just like your brains would be if — Dear, dear, whyd’nt you tell me that was what you’d been down there for, I wouldn’t a cared. Now cler out to bed, and don’t lemme see no more of you till morning!”
+
+I was up stairs in a second, and down the lightning-rod in another one, and shinning through the dark for the lean-to. I couldn’t hardly get my words out, I was so anxious; but I told Tom as quick as I could we must jump for it now, and not a minute to lose — the house full of men, yonder, with guns!
+
+His eyes just blazed; and he says:
+
+“No! — is that so? Ain’t it bully! Why, Huck, if it was to do over again, I bet I could fetch two hundred! If we could put it off till — ”
+
+“Hurry! hurry!” I says. “Where’s Jim?”
+
+“Right at your elbow; if you reach out your arm you can touch him. He’s dressed, and everything’s ready. Now we’ll slide out and give the sheep-signal.”
+
+But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard them begin to fumble with the pad-lock, and heard a man say:
+
+“I told you we’d be too soon; they haven’t come — the door is locked. Here, I’ll lock some of you into the cabin, and you lay for ’em in the dark and kill ’em when they come; and the rest scatter around a piece, and listen if you can hear ’em coming.”
+
+So in they come, but couldn’t see us in the dark, and most trod on us whilst we was hustling to get under the bed. But we got under all right, and out through the hole, swift but soft — Jim first, me next, and Tom last, which was according to Tom’s orders. Now we was in the lean-to, and heard trampings close by outside. So we crept to the door, and Tom stopped us there and put his eye to the crack, but couldn’t make out nothing, it was so dark; and whispered and said he would listen for the steps to get further, and when he nudged us Jim must glide out first, and him last. So he set his ear to the crack and listened, and listened, and listened, and the steps a-scraping around out there all the time; and at last he nudged us, and we slid out, and stooped down, not breathing, and not making the least noise, and slipped stealthy towards the fence in Injun file, and got to it all right, and me and Jim over it; but Tom’s britches catched fast on a splinter on the top rail, and then he hear the steps coming, so he had to pull loose, which snapped the splinter and made a noise; and as he dropped in our tracks and started somebody sings out:
+
+“Who’s that? Answer, or I’ll shoot!”
+
+But we didn’t answer; we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then there was a rush, and a bang, bang, bang! and the bullets fairly whizzed around us! We heard them sing out:
+
+“Here they are! They’ve broke for the river! After ’em, boys, and turn loose the dogs!”
+
+So here they come, full tilt. We could hear them because they wore boots and yelled, but we didn’t wear no boots and didn’t yell. We was in the path to the mill; and when they got pretty close on to us we dodged into the bush and let them go by, and then dropped in behind them. They’d had all the dogs shut up, so they wouldn’t scare off the robbers; but by this time somebody had let them loose, and here they come, making powwow enough for a million; but they was our dogs; so we stopped in our tracks till they catched up; and when they see it warn’t nobody but us, and no excitement to offer them, they only just said howdy, and tore right ahead towards the shouting and clattering; and then we up-steam again, and whizzed along after them till we was nearly to the mill, and then struck up through the bush to where my canoe was tied, and hopped in and pulled for dear life towards the middle of the river, but didn’t make no more noise than we was obleeged to. Then we struck out, easy and comfortable, for the island where my raft was; and we could hear them yelling and barking at each other all up and down the bank, till we was so far away the sounds got dim and died out. And when we stepped onto the raft I says:
+
+“Now, old Jim, you’re a free man again, and I bet you won’t ever be a slave no more.”
+
+“En a mighty good job it wuz, too, Huck. It ’uz planned beautiful, en it ’uz done beautiful; en dey ain’t nobody kin git up a plan dat’s mo’ mixed-up en splendid den what dat one wuz.”
+
+We was all glad as we could be, but Tom was the gladdest of all because he had a bullet in the calf of his leg.
+
+When me and Jim heard that we didn’t feel so brash as what we did before. It was hurting him considerable, and bleeding; so we laid him in the wigwam and tore up one of the duke’s shirts for to bandage him, but he says:
+
+“Gimme the rags; I can do it myself. Don’t stop now; don’t fool around here, and the evasion booming along so handsome; man the sweeps, and set her loose! Boys, we done it elegant! — ’deed we did. I wish we’d a had the handling of Louis XVI., there wouldn’t a been no ‘Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!’ wrote down in his biography; no, sir, we’d a whooped him over the border — that’s what we’d a done with him — and done it just as slick as nothing at all, too. Man the sweeps — man the sweeps!”
+
+But me and Jim was consulting — and thinking. And after we’d thought a minute, I says:
+
+“Say it, Jim.”
+
+So he says:
+
+“Well, den, dis is de way it look to me, Huck. Ef it wuz him dat ’uz bein’ sot free, en one er de boys wuz to git shot, would he say, ‘Go on en save me, nemmine ’bout a doctor f’r to save dis one?’ Is dat like Mars Tom Sawyer? Would he say dat? You bet he wouldn’t! Well, den, is Jim gywne to say it? No, sah — I doan’ budge a step out’n dis place ’dout a doctor; not if it’s forty year!”
+
+I knowed he was white inside, and I reckoned he’d say what he did say — so it was all right now, and I told Tom I was a-going for a doctor. He raised considerable row about it, but me and Jim stuck to it and wouldn’t budge; so he was for crawling out and setting the raft loose himself; but we wouldn’t let him. Then he give us a piece of his mind, but it didn’t do no good.
+
+So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says:
+
+“Well, then, if you’re bound to go, I’ll tell you the way to do when you get to the village. Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight and fast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse full of gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the back alleys and everywheres in the dark, and then fetch him here in the canoe, in a roundabout way amongst the islands, and search him and take his chalk away from him, and don’t give it back to him till you get him back to the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it again. It’s the way they all do.”
+
+So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he see the doctor coming till he was gone again.
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+The doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I got him up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island hunting yesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and about midnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shot him in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not say nothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come home this evening and surprise the folks.
+
+“Who is your folks?” he says.
+
+“The Phelpses, down yonder.”
+
+“Oh,” he says. And after a minute, he says:
+
+“How’d you say he got shot?”
+
+“He had a dream,” I says, “and it shot him.”
+
+“Singular dream,” he says.
+
+So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But when he sees the canoe he didn’t like the look of her — said she was big enough for one, but didn’t look pretty safe for two. I says:
+
+“Oh, you needn’t be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easy enough.”
+
+“What three?”
+
+“Why, me and Sid, and — and — and the guns; that’s what I mean.”
+
+“Oh,” he says.
+
+But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, and said he reckoned he’d look around for a bigger one. But they was all locked and chained; so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait till he come back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better go down home and get them ready for the surprise if I wanted to. But I said I didn’t; so I told him just how to find the raft, and then he started.
+
+I struck an idea pretty soon. I says to myself, spos’n he can’t fix that leg just in three shakes of a sheep’s tail, as the saying is? spos’n it takes him three or four days? What are we going to do? — lay around there till he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir; I know what I’ll do. I’ll wait, and when he comes back if he says he’s got to go any more I’ll get down there, too, if I swim; and we’ll take and tie him, and keep him, and shove out down the river; and when Tom’s done with him we’ll give him what it’s worth, or all we got, and then let him get ashore.
+
+So then I crept into a lumber-pile to get some sleep; and next time I waked up the sun was away up over my head! I shot out and went for the doctor’s house, but they told me he’d gone away in the night some time or other, and warn’t back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad for Tom, and I’ll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, and turned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas’s stomach! He says:
+
+“Why, Tom! Where you been all this time, you rascal?”
+
+“I hain’t been nowheres,” I says, “only just hunting for the runaway nigger — me and Sid.”
+
+“Why, where ever did you go?” he says. “Your aunt’s been mighty uneasy.”
+
+“She needn’t,” I says, “because we was all right. We followed the men and the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them; but we thought we heard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them and crossed over, but couldn’t find nothing of them; so we cruised along up-shore till we got kind of tired and beat out; and tied up the canoe and went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago; then we paddled over here to hear the news, and Sid’s at the post-office to see what he can hear, and I’m a-branching out to get something to eat for us, and then we’re going home.”
+
+So then we went to the post-office to get “Sid”; but just as I suspicioned, he warn’t there; so the old man he got a letter out of the office, and we waited a while longer, but Sid didn’t come; so the old man said, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got done fooling around — but we would ride. I couldn’t get him to let me stay and wait for Sid; and he said there warn’t no use in it, and I must come along, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right.
+
+When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and cried both, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that don’t amount to shucks, and said she’d serve Sid the same when he come.
+
+And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers’ wives, to dinner; and such another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the worst; her tongue was a-going all the time. She says:
+
+“Well, Sister Phelps, I’ve ransacked that-air cabin over, an’ I b’lieve the nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrell — didn’t I, Sister Damrell? — s’I, he’s crazy, s’I — them’s the very words I said. You all hearn me: he’s crazy, s’I; everything shows it, s’I. Look at that-air grindstone, s’I; want to tell me’t any cretur ’t’s in his right mind ’s a goin’ to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s’I? Here sich ’n’ sich a person busted his heart; ’n’ here so ’n’ so pegged along for thirty-seven year, ’n’ all that — natcherl son o’ Louis somebody, ’n’ sich everlast’n rubbage. He’s plumb crazy, s’I; it’s what I says in the fust place, it’s what I says in the middle, ’n’ it’s what I says last ’n’ all the time — the nigger’s crazy — crazy ’s Nebokoodneezer, s’I.”
+
+“An’ look at that-air ladder made out’n rags, Sister Hotchkiss,” says old Mrs. Damrell; “what in the name o’ goodness could he ever want of — ”
+
+“The very words I was a-sayin’ no longer ago th’n this minute to Sister Utterback, ’n’ she’ll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air rag ladder, sh-she; ’n’ s’I, yes, look at it, s’I — what could he a-wanted of it, s’I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she — ”
+
+“But how in the nation’d they ever git that grindstone in there, anyway? ’n’ who dug that-air hole? ’n’ who — ”
+
+“My very words, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin’ — pass that-air sasser o’ m’lasses, won’t ye? — I was a-sayin’ to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, how did they git that grindstone in there, s’I. Without help, mind you — ’thout help! Thar’s wher ’tis. Don’t tell me, s’I; there wuz help, s’I; ’n’ ther’ wuz a plenty help, too, s’I; ther’s ben a dozen a-helpin’ that nigger, ’n’ I lay I’d skin every last nigger on this place but I’d find out who done it, s’I; ’n’ moreover, s’I — ”
+
+“A dozen says you! — forty couldn’t a done every thing that’s been done. Look at them case-knife saws and things, how tedious they’ve been made; look at that bed-leg sawed off with ’m, a week’s work for six men; look at that nigger made out’n straw on the bed; and look at — ”
+
+“You may well say it, Brer Hightower! It’s jist as I was a-sayin’ to Brer Phelps, his own self. S’e, what do you think of it, Sister Hotchkiss, s’e? Think o’ what, Brer Phelps, s’I? Think o’ that bed-leg sawed off that a way, s’e? think of it, s’I? I lay it never sawed itself off, s’I — somebody sawed it, s’I; that’s my opinion, take it or leave it, it mayn’t be no ’count, s’I, but sich as ’t is, it’s my opinion, s’I, ’n’ if any body k’n start a better one, s’I, let him do it, s’I, that’s all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s’I — ”
+
+“Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a house-full o’ niggers in there every night for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look at that shirt — every last inch of it kivered over with secret African writ’n done with blood! Must a ben a raft uv ’m at it right along, all the time, amost. Why, I’d give two dollars to have it read to me; ’n’ as for the niggers that wrote it, I ’low I’d take ’n’ lash ’m t’ll — ”
+
+“People to help him, Brother Marples! Well, I reckon you’d think so if you’d a been in this house for a while back. Why, they’ve stole everything they could lay their hands on — and we a-watching all the time, mind you. They stole that shirt right off o’ the line! and as for that sheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther’ ain’t no telling how many times they didn’t steal that; and flour, and candles, and candlesticks, and spoons, and the old warming-pan, and most a thousand things that I disremember now, and my new calico dress; and me and Silas and my Sid and Tom on the constant watch day and night, as I was a-telling you, and not a one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight nor sound of them; and here at the last minute, lo and behold you, they slides right in under our noses and fools us, and not only fools us but the Injun Territory robbers too, and actuly gets away with that nigger safe and sound, and that with sixteen men and twenty-two dogs right on their very heels at that very time! I tell you, it just bangs anything I ever heard of. Why, sperits couldn’t a done better and been no smarter. And I reckon they must a been sperits — because, you know our dogs, and ther’ ain’t no better; well, them dogs never even got on the track of ’m once! You explain that to me if you can! — any of you!”
+
+“Well, it does beat — ”
+
+“Laws alive, I never — ”
+
+“So help me, I wouldn’t a be — ”
+
+“House-thieves as well as — ”
+
+“Goodnessgracioussakes, I’d a ben afeard to live in sich a — ”
+
+“’Fraid to live! — why, I was that scared I dasn’t hardly go to bed, or get up, or lay down, or set down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they’d steal the very — why, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I was in by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn’t afraid they’d steal some o’ the family! I was just to that pass I didn’t have no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough now, in the daytime; but I says to myself, there’s my two poor boys asleep, ’way up stairs in that lonesome room, and I declare to goodness I was that uneasy ’t I crep’ up there and locked ’em in! I did. And anybody would. Because, you know, when you get scared that way, and it keeps running on, and getting worse and worse all the time, and your wits gets to addling, and you get to doing all sorts o’ wild things, and by-and-by you think to yourself, spos’n I was a boy, and was away up there, and the door ain’t locked, and you — ” She stopped, looking kind of wondering, and then she turned her head around slow, and when her eye lit on me — I got up and took a walk.
+
+Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that room this morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. So I done it. But I dasn’t go fur, or she’d a sent for me. And when it was late in the day the people all went, and then I come in and told her the noise and shooting waked up me and “Sid,” and the door was locked, and we wanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightning-rod, and both of us got hurt a little, and we didn’t never want to try that no more. And then I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas before; and then she said she’d forgive us, and maybe it was all right enough anyway, and about what a body might expect of boys, for all boys was a pretty harum-scarum lot as fur as she could see; and so, as long as no harm hadn’t come of it, she judged she better put in her time being grateful we was alive and well and she had us still, stead of fretting over what was past and done. So then she kissed me, and patted me on the head, and dropped into a kind of a brown study; and pretty soon jumps up, and says:
+
+“Why, lawsamercy, it’s most night, and Sid not come yet! What has become of that boy?”
+
+I see my chance; so I skips up and says:
+
+“I’ll run right up to town and get him,” I says.
+
+“No you won’t,” she says. “You’ll stay right wher’ you are; one’s enough to be lost at a time. If he ain’t here to supper, your uncle ’ll go.”
+
+Well, he warn’t there to supper; so right after supper uncle went.
+
+He come back about ten a little bit uneasy; hadn’t run across Tom’s track. Aunt Sally was a good deal uneasy; but Uncle Silas he said there warn’t no occasion to be — boys will be boys, he said, and you’ll see this one turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had to be satisfied. But she said she’d set up for him a while anyway, and keep a light burning so he could see it.
+
+And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched her candle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like I couldn’t look her in the face; and she set down on the bed and talked with me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn’t seem to want to ever stop talking about him; and kept asking me every now and then if I reckoned he could a got lost, or hurt, or maybe drownded, and might be laying at this minute somewheres suffering or dead, and she not by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down silent, and I would tell her that Sid was all right, and would be home in the morning, sure; and she would squeeze my hand, or maybe kiss me, and tell me to say it again, and keep on saying it, because it done her good, and she was in so much trouble. And when she was going away she looked down in my eyes so steady and gentle, and says:
+
+“The door ain’t going to be locked, Tom, and there’s the window and the rod; but you’ll be good, won’t you? And you won’t go? For my sake.”
+
+Laws knows I wanted to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all intending to go; but after that I wouldn’t a went, not for kingdoms.
+
+But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped around front, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with her eyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could do something for her, but I couldn’t, only to swear that I wouldn’t never do nothing to grieve her any more. And the third time I waked up at dawn, and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, and her old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep.
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+The old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn’t get no track of Tom; and both of them set at the table thinking, and not saying nothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and not eating anything. And by-and-by the old man says:
+
+“Did I give you the letter?”
+
+“What letter?”
+
+“The one I got yesterday out of the post-office.”
+
+“No, you didn’t give me no letter.”
+
+“Well, I must a forgot it.”
+
+So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her. She says:
+
+“Why, it’s from St. Petersburg — it’s from Sis.”
+
+I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn’t stir. But before she could break it open she dropped it and run — for she see something. And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and that old doctor; and Jim, in her calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; and a lot of people. I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, and rushed. She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says:
+
+“Oh, he’s dead, he’s dead, I know he’s dead!”
+
+And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, which showed he warn’t in his right mind; then she flung up her hands, and says:
+
+“He’s alive, thank God! And that’s enough!” and she snatched a kiss of him, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering orders right and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tongue could go, every jump of the way.
+
+I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim; and the old doctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house. The men was very huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to all the other niggers around there, so they wouldn’t be trying to run away like Jim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole family scared most to death for days and nights. But the others said, don’t do it, it wouldn’t answer at all; he ain’t our nigger, and his owner would turn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that cooled them down a little, because the people that’s always the most anxious for to hang a nigger that hain’t done just right is always the very ones that ain’t the most anxious to pay for him when they’ve got their satisfaction out of him.
+
+They cussed Jim considerble, though, and give him a cuff or two side the head once in a while, but Jim never said nothing, and he never let on to know me, and they took him to the same cabin, and put his own clothes on him, and chained him again, and not to no bed-leg this time, but to a big staple drove into the bottom log, and chained his hands, too, and both legs, and said he warn’t to have nothing but bread and water to eat after this till his owner come, or he was sold at auction because he didn’t come in a certain length of time, and filled up our hole, and said a couple of farmers with guns must stand watch around about the cabin every night, and a bulldog tied to the door in the daytime; and about this time they was through with the job and was tapering off with a kind of generl good-bye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and takes a look, and says:
+
+“Don’t be no rougher on him than you’re obleeged to, because he ain’t a bad nigger. When I got to where I found the boy I see I couldn’t cut the bullet out without some help, and he warn’t in no condition for me to leave to go and get help; and he got a little worse and a little worse, and after a long time he went out of his head, and wouldn’t let me come a-nigh him any more, and said if I chalked his raft he’d kill me, and no end of wild foolishness like that, and I see I couldn’t do anything at all with him; so I says, I got to have help somehow; and the minute I says it out crawls this nigger from somewheres and says he’ll help, and he done it, too, and done it very well. Of course I judged he must be a runaway nigger, and there I was! and there I had to stick right straight along all the rest of the day and all night. It was a fix, I tell you! I had a couple of patients with the chills, and of course I’d of liked to run up to town and see them, but I dasn’t, because the nigger might get away, and then I’d be to blame; and yet never a skiff come close enough for me to hail. So there I had to stick plumb until daylight this morning; and I never see a nigger that was a better nuss or faithfuller, and yet he was risking his freedom to do it, and was all tired out, too, and I see plain enough he’d been worked main hard lately. I liked the nigger for that; I tell you, gentlemen, a nigger like that is worth a thousand dollars — and kind treatment, too. I had everything I needed, and the boy was doing as well there as he would a done at home — better, maybe, because it was so quiet; but there I was, with both of ’m on my hands, and there I had to stick till about dawn this morning; then some men in a skiff come by, and as good luck would have it the nigger was setting by the pallet with his head propped on his knees sound asleep; so I motioned them in quiet, and they slipped up on him and grabbed him and tied him before he knowed what he was about, and we never had no trouble. And the boy being in a kind of a flighty sleep, too, we muffled the oars and hitched the raft on, and towed her over very nice and quiet, and the nigger never made the least row nor said a word from the start. He ain’t no bad nigger, gentlemen; that’s what I think about him.”
+
+Somebody says:
+
+“Well, it sounds very good, doctor, I’m obleeged to say.”
+
+Then the others softened up a little, too, and I was mighty thankful to that old doctor for doing Jim that good turn; and I was glad it was according to my judgment of him, too; because I thought he had a good heart in him and was a good man the first time I see him. Then they all agreed that Jim had acted very well, and was deserving to have some notice took of it, and reward. So every one of them promised, right out and hearty, that they wouldn’t cuss him no more.
+
+Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say he could have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rotten heavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water; but they didn’t think of it, and I reckoned it warn’t best for me to mix in, but I judged I’d get the doctor’s yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or other as soon as I’d got through the breakers that was laying just ahead of me — explanations, I mean, of how I forgot to mention about Sid being shot when I was telling how him and me put in that dratted night paddling around hunting the runaway nigger.
+
+But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sick-room all day and all night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I dodged him.
+
+Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt Sally was gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sick-room, and if I found him awake I reckoned we could put up a yarn for the family that would wash. But he was sleeping, and sleeping very peaceful, too; and pale, not fire-faced the way he was when he come. So I set down and laid for him to wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding in, and there I was, up a stump again! She motioned me to be still, and set down by me, and begun to whisper, and said we could all be joyful now, because all the symptoms was first-rate, and he’d been sleeping like that for ever so long, and looking better and peacefuller all the time, and ten to one he’d wake up in his right mind.
+
+So we set there watching, and by-and-by he stirs a bit, and opened his eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says:
+
+“Hello! — why, I’m at home! How’s that? Where’s the raft?”
+
+“It’s all right,” I says.
+
+“And Jim?”
+
+“The same,” I says, but couldn’t say it pretty brash. But he never noticed, but says:
+
+“Good! Splendid! Now we’re all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?”
+
+I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says: “About what, Sid?”
+
+“Why, about the way the whole thing was done.”
+
+“What whole thing?”
+
+“Why, the whole thing. There ain’t but one; how we set the runaway nigger free — me and Tom.”
+
+“Good land! Set the run — What is the child talking about! Dear, dear, out of his head again!”
+
+“No, I ain’t out of my HEAD; I know all what I’m talking about. We did set him free — me and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we done it. And we done it elegant, too.” He’d got a start, and she never checked him up, just set and stared and stared, and let him clip along, and I see it warn’t no use for me to put in. “Why, Aunty, it cost us a power of work — weeks of it — hours and hours, every night, whilst you was all asleep. And we had to steal candles, and the sheet, and the shirt, and your dress, and spoons, and tin plates, and case-knives, and the warming-pan, and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, and you can’t think what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and inscriptions, and one thing or another, and you can’t think half the fun it was. And we had to make up the pictures of coffins and things, and nonnamous letters from the robbers, and get up and down the lightning-rod, and dig the hole into the cabin, and made the rope ladder and send it in cooked up in a pie, and send in spoons and things to work with in your apron pocket — ”
+
+“Mercy sakes!”
+
+“ — and load up the cabin with rats and snakes and so on, for company for Jim; and then you kept Tom here so long with the butter in his hat that you come near spiling the whole business, because the men come before we was out of the cabin, and we had to rush, and they heard us and let drive at us, and I got my share, and we dodged out of the path and let them go by, and when the dogs come they warn’t interested in us, but went for the most noise, and we got our canoe, and made for the raft, and was all safe, and Jim was a free man, and we done it all by ourselves, and wasn’t it bully, Aunty!”
+
+“Well, I never heard the likes of it in all my born days! So it was you, you little rapscallions, that’s been making all this trouble, and turned everybody’s wits clean inside out and scared us all most to death. I’ve as good a notion as ever I had in my life to take it out o’ you this very minute. To think, here I’ve been, night after night, a — you just get well once, you young scamp, and I lay I’ll tan the Old Harry out o’ both o’ ye!”
+
+But Tom, he was so proud and joyful, he just couldn’t hold in, and his tongue just went it — she a-chipping in, and spitting fire all along, and both of them going it at once, like a cat convention; and she says:
+
+“Well, you get all the enjoyment you can out of it now, for mind I tell you if I catch you meddling with him again — ”
+
+“Meddling with who?” Tom says, dropping his smile and looking surprised.
+
+“With who? Why, the runaway nigger, of course. Who’d you reckon?”
+
+Tom looks at me very grave, and says:
+
+“Tom, didn’t you just tell me he was all right? Hasn’t he got away?”
+
+“Him?” says Aunt Sally; “the runaway nigger? ’Deed he hasn’t. They’ve got him back, safe and sound, and he’s in that cabin again, on bread and water, and loaded down with chains, till he’s claimed or sold!”
+
+Tom rose square up in bed, with his eye hot, and his nostrils opening and shutting like gills, and sings out to me:
+
+“They hain’t no right to shut him up! Shove! — and don’t you lose a minute. Turn him loose! he ain’t no slave; he’s as free as any cretur that walks this earth!”
+
+“What does the child mean?”
+
+“I mean every word I say, Aunt Sally, and if somebody don’t go, I’ll go. I’ve knowed him all his life, and so has Tom, there. Old Miss Watson died two months ago, and she was ashamed she ever was going to sell him down the river, and said so; and she set him free in her will.”
+
+“Then what on earth did you want to set him free for, seeing he was already free?”
+
+“Well, that is a question, I must say; and just like women! Why, I wanted the adventure of it; and I’d a waded neck-deep in blood to — goodness alive, AUNT POLLY!”
+
+If she warn’t standing right there, just inside the door, looking as sweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never!
+
+Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and cried over her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, for it was getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped out, and in a little while Tom’s Aunt Polly shook herself loose and stood there looking across at Tom over her spectacles — kind of grinding him into the earth, you know. And then she says:
+
+“Yes, you better turn y’r head away — I would if I was you, Tom.”
+
+“Oh, deary me!” says Aunt Sally; “is he changed so? Why, that ain’t Tom, it’s Sid; Tom’s — Tom’s — why, where is Tom? He was here a minute ago.”
+
+“You mean where’s Huck Finn — that’s what you mean! I reckon I hain’t raised such a scamp as my Tom all these years not to know him when I see him. That would be a pretty howdy-do. Come out from under that bed, Huck Finn.”
+
+So I done it. But not feeling brash.
+
+Aunt Sally she was one of the mixed-upest-looking persons I ever see — except one, and that was Uncle Silas, when he come in and they told it all to him. It kind of made him drunk, as you may say, and he didn’t know nothing at all the rest of the day, and preached a prayer-meeting sermon that night that gave him a rattling ruputation, because the oldest man in the world couldn’t a understood it. So Tom’s Aunt Polly, she told all about who I was, and what; and I had to up and tell how I was in such a tight place that when Mrs. Phelps took me for Tom Sawyer — she chipped in and says, “Oh, go on and call me Aunt Sally, I’m used to it now, and ’tain’t no need to change” — that when Aunt Sally took me for Tom Sawyer I had to stand it — there warn’t no other way, and I knowed he wouldn’t mind, because it would be nuts for him, being a mystery, and he’d make an adventure out of it, and be perfectly satisfied. And so it turned out, and he let on to be Sid, and made things as soft as he could for me.
+
+And his Aunt Polly she said Tom was right about old Miss Watson setting Jim free in her will; and so, sure enough, Tom Sawyer had gone and took all that trouble and bother to set a free nigger free! and I couldn’t ever understand before, until that minute and that talk, how he could help a body set a nigger free with his bringing-up.
+
+Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom and Sid had come all right and safe, she says to herself:
+
+“Look at that, now! I might have expected it, letting him go off that way without anybody to watch him. So now I got to go and trapse all the way down the river, eleven hundred mile, and find out what that creetur’s up to this time; as long as I couldn’t seem to get any answer out of you about it.”
+
+“Why, I never heard nothing from you,” says Aunt Sally.
+
+“Well, I wonder! Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean by Sid being here.”
+
+“Well, I never got ’em, Sis.”
+
+Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says:
+
+“You, Tom!”
+
+“Well — what?” he says, kind of pettish.
+
+“Don’t you what me, you impudent thing — hand out them letters.”
+
+“What letters?”
+
+“Them letters. I be bound, if I have to take aholt of you I’ll — ”
+
+“They’re in the trunk. There, now. And they’re just the same as they was when I got them out of the office. I hain’t looked into them, I hain’t touched them. But I knowed they’d make trouble, and I thought if you warn’t in no hurry, I’d — ”
+
+“Well, you do need skinning, there ain’t no mistake about it. And I wrote another one to tell you I was coming; and I s’pose he — ”
+
+“No, it come yesterday; I hain’t read it yet, but it’s all right, I’ve got that one.”
+
+I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn’t, but I reckoned maybe it was just as safe to not to. So I never said nothing.
+
+CHAPTER THE LAST
+
+The first time I catched Tom private I asked him what was his idea, time of the evasion? — what it was he’d planned to do if the evasion worked all right and he managed to set a nigger free that was already free before? And he said, what he had planned in his head from the start, if we got Jim out all safe, was for us to run him down the river on the raft, and have adventures plumb to the mouth of the river, and then tell him about his being free, and take him back up home on a steamboat, in style, and pay him for his lost time, and write word ahead and get out all the niggers around, and have them waltz him into town with a torchlight procession and a brass-band, and then he would be a hero, and so would we. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it was.
+
+We had Jim out of the chains in no time, and when Aunt Polly and Uncle Silas and Aunt Sally found out how good he helped the doctor nurse Tom, they made a heap of fuss over him, and fixed him up prime, and give him all he wanted to eat, and a good time, and nothing to do. And we had him up to the sick-room, and had a high talk; and Tom give Jim forty dollars for being prisoner for us so patient, and doing it up so good, and Jim was pleased most to death, and busted out, and says:
+
+“Dah, now, Huck, what I tell you? — what I tell you up dah on Jackson islan’? I tole you I got a hairy breas’, en what’s de sign un it; en I tole you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich agin; en it’s come true; en heah she is! Dah, now! doan’ talk to me — signs is signs, mine I tell you; en I knowed jis’ ’s well ’at I ’uz gwineter be rich agin as I’s a-stannin’ heah dis minute!”
+
+And then Tom he talked along and talked along, and says, le’s all three slide out of here one of these nights and get an outfit, and go for howling adventures amongst the Injuns, over in the Territory, for a couple of weeks or two; and I says, all right, that suits me, but I ain’t got no money for to buy the outfit, and I reckon I couldn’t get none from home, because it’s likely pap’s been back before now, and got it all away from Judge Thatcher and drunk it up.
+
+“No, he hain’t,” Tom says; “it’s all there yet — six thousand dollars and more; and your pap hain’t ever been back since. Hadn’t when I come away, anyhow.”
+
+Jim says, kind of solemn:
+
+“He ain’t a-comin’ back no mo’, Huck.”
+
+I says:
+
+“Why, Jim?”
+
+“Nemmine why, Huck — but he ain’t comin’ back no mo.”
+
+But I kept at him; so at last he says:
+
+“Doan’ you ’member de house dat was float’n down de river, en dey wuz a man in dah, kivered up, en I went in en unkivered him and didn’ let you come in? Well, den, you kin git yo’ money when you wants it, kase dat wuz him.”
+
+Tom’s most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watch-guard for a watch, and is always seeing what time it is, and so there ain’t nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I’d a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn’t a tackled it, and ain’t a-going to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she’s going to adopt me and sivilize me, and I can’t stand it. I been there before.
+
+THE END. YOURS TRULY, HUCK FINN.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/2374/metadata.json b/benchmark/2374/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a809a1f459f8439f7cf7ec378cefdd0ee6c433c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/2374/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "2374", "title": "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (version 3)", "description": "The book is noted for its colorful description of people and places along the Mississippi River, and its sober and often scathing look at entrenched attitudes, particularly racism. The drifting journey of Huck and his friend Jim, a runaway slave, down the Mississippi River on their raft may be one of the most enduring images of escape and freedom in all of American literature. <br><br>The book has been popular with young readers since its publication, and taken as a sequel to the comparatively innocuous The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. It has also been the continued object of study by serious literary critics. Although the Southern society it satirized was already a quarter-century in the past by the time of publication, the book immediately became controversial, and has remained so to this day.(Summary from Wikipedia)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/76", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1884", "num_sections": "43", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/2374", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/the-adventures-of-huckleberry-finn-version-3/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "11:19:58", "totaltimesecs": 40798, "authors": [{"id": "9", "first_name": "Mark", "last_name": "Twain", "dob": "1835", "dod": "1910"}], "genre": ["Children's Fiction", "Action & Adventure Fiction", "Humorous Fiction"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["huckleberryfinn_01_twain", "huckleberryfinn_02_twain", "huckleberryfinn_03_twain", "huckleberryfinn_04_twain", "huckleberryfinn_05_twain", "huckleberryfinn_06_twain", "huckleberryfinn_07_twain", "huckleberryfinn_08_twain", "huckleberryfinn_09_twain", "huckleberryfinn_10_twain", "huckleberryfinn_11_twain", "huckleberryfinn_12_twain", "huckleberryfinn_13_twain", "huckleberryfinn_14_twain", "huckleberryfinn_15_twain", "huckleberryfinn_16_twain", "huckleberryfinn_17_twain", "huckleberryfinn_18_twain", "huckleberryfinn_19_twain", "huckleberryfinn_20_twain", "huckleberryfinn_21_twain", "huckleberryfinn_22_twain", "huckleberryfinn_23_twain", "huckleberryfinn_24_twain", "huckleberryfinn_25_twain", "huckleberryfinn_26_twain", "huckleberryfinn_27_twain", "huckleberryfinn_28_twain", "huckleberryfinn_29_twain", "huckleberryfinn_30_twain", "huckleberryfinn_31_twain", "huckleberryfinn_32_twain", "huckleberryfinn_33_twain", "huckleberryfinn_34_twain", "huckleberryfinn_35_twain", "huckleberryfinn_36_twain", "huckleberryfinn_37_twain", "huckleberryfinn_38_twain", "huckleberryfinn_39_twain", "huckleberryfinn_40_twain", "huckleberryfinn_41_twain", "huckleberryfinn_42_twain", "huckleberryfinn_43_twain"], "readers": [["915"], ["915"], ["915"], ["915"], ["915"], ["2935"], ["2938"], ["2946"], ["2817"], ["2817"], ["2817"], ["2817"], ["2285"], ["2285"], ["2285"], ["2285"], ["3370"], ["3526"], ["3157"], ["3584"], ["3370"], ["3005"], ["3005"], ["3005"], ["2285"], ["2285"], ["2285"], ["3157"], ["3157"], ["3634"], ["3370"], ["3005"], ["3005"], ["3005"], ["2532"], ["1469"], ["2341"], ["2341"], ["3045"], ["2341"], ["2341"], ["2341"], ["2110"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..d9a74080af247931e9c0000391c346fcae8001ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Old Wicker's got a sign in his window -- he needs a boy. For after school, I guess. Think he'd pay, huh? Whyncha try?\"", "start_byte": 3036, "end_byte": 3155, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 53.93499832153321, "cut_end_time": 62.4000608215332, "narration": {"text": " Mike wiggled himself across part of the Pep Boys' window to gain Chris's attention.", "cut_start_time": 48.81500137329102, "cut_end_time": 53.51000137329102, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "And it was there, as he stood staring in at the chromium bicycle lamps, red glass tail lights, and wire baskets, that Mike Dugan found him.\n\nCHAPTER 2\n\nMike was in his class at public school, the eighth grade. Mike was all right. Chris liked him.\n\n\"Hya, Chris!\"\n\n\"Hi, Mike!\"\n\n\"Whatcha doin'?\"\n\n\"Nothin' much. Just looking.\"\n\n\"Say -- you know sumthin'?\" Mike wiggled himself across part of the Pep Boys' window to gain Chris's attention. <|quote_start|>\"Old Wicker's got a sign in his window -- he needs a boy. For after school, I guess. Think he'd pay, huh? Whyncha try?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.\n\n\"Oh -- I don't know.\"\n\nMike persisted. \"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"\n\nAll Chris heard was \" -- needs a job bad -- mother's sick.\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Oh -- I don't know.\"", "start_byte": 3233, "end_byte": 3254, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 68.0849981689453, "cut_end_time": 69.89012316894531, "narration": {"text": "Chris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.", "cut_start_time": 62.96500137329102, "cut_end_time": 67.15000137329102, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"Hi, Mike!\"\n\n\"Whatcha doin'?\"\n\n\"Nothin' much. Just looking.\"\n\n\"Say -- you know sumthin'?\" Mike wiggled himself across part of the Pep Boys' window to gain Chris's attention. \"Old Wicker's got a sign in his window -- he needs a boy. For after school, I guess. Think he'd pay, huh? Whyncha try?\"\n\nChris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh -- I don't know.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike persisted. \"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"\n\nAll Chris heard was \" -- needs a job bad -- mother's sick.\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" he said. \"Only why didn't you ask him yourself?\"\n\nMike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"", "start_byte": 3272, "end_byte": 3450, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 71.6950015258789, "cut_end_time": 83.8000015258789, "narration": {"text": "Chris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.", "cut_start_time": 62.96500137329102, "cut_end_time": 67.15000137329102, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"Whatcha doin'?\"\n\n\"Nothin' much. Just looking.\"\n\n\"Say -- you know sumthin'?\" Mike wiggled himself across part of the Pep Boys' window to gain Chris's attention. \"Old Wicker's got a sign in his window -- he needs a boy. For after school, I guess. Think he'd pay, huh? Whyncha try?\"\n\nChris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.\n\n\"Oh -- I don't know.\"\n\nMike persisted. <|quote_start|>\"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAll Chris heard was \" -- needs a job bad -- mother's sick.\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" he said. \"Only why didn't you ask him yourself?\"\n\nMike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.\n\n\"Well -- \" he admitted, \"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"persisted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Only why didn't you ask him yourself?\"", "start_byte": 3530, "end_byte": 3569, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 91.9449966430664, "cut_end_time": 93.6701216430664, "narration": {"text": "Mike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.", "cut_start_time": 94.70500061035156, "cut_end_time": 101.78000061035155, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug.\n\n\"Oh -- I don't know.\"\n\nMike persisted. \"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"\n\nAll Chris heard was \" -- needs a job bad -- mother's sick.\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"Only why didn't you ask him yourself?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.\n\n\"Well -- \" he admitted, \"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"\n\nMike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, \"So what?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"", "start_byte": 3722, "end_byte": 3875, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 104.07499816894531, "cut_end_time": 114.28006066894531, "narration": {"text": "Mike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.", "cut_start_time": 94.70500061035156, "cut_end_time": 101.78000061035155, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school.\"\n\nAll Chris heard was \" -- needs a job bad -- mother's sick.\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" he said. \"Only why didn't you ask him yourself?\"\n\nMike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.\n\n\"Well -- \" he admitted, <|quote_start|>\"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, \"So what?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed. \"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said\" -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead -- \"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression.", "narrative_information_pred": {"admitted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said", "start_byte": 3974, "end_byte": 4049, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 122.98499938964844, "cut_end_time": 126.94006188964843, "narration": {"text": " -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead --", "cut_start_time": 127.59499694824218, "cut_end_time": 131.41005944824218, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Mike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street.\n\n\"Well -- \" he admitted, \"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"\n\nMike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, \"So what?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed. <|quote_start|>\"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said\"<|quote_end|> -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead -- \"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. \"Everybody knows what's outside his window!\" he burst out. \"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"", "start_byte": 4136, "end_byte": 4217, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 131.76499938964844, "cut_end_time": 138.51006188964843, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.", "cut_start_time": 159.65500732421876, "cut_end_time": 164.86000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an' -- Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me.\"\n\nMike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, \"So what?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed. \"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said\" -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead -- <|quote_start|>\"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. \"Everybody knows what's outside his window!\" he burst out. \"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"\n\n\"So what did he say?\" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Everybody knows what's outside his window!", "start_byte": 4279, "end_byte": 4322, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.38500549316404, "cut_end_time": 144.35000549316405, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.", "cut_start_time": 159.65500732421876, "cut_end_time": 164.86000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "Mike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, \"So what?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed. \"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said\" -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead -- \"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. <|quote_start|>\"Everybody knows what's outside his window!\"<|quote_end|> he burst out. \"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"\n\n\"So what did he say?\" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.\n\nMike examined the toe of his worn shoe.", "narrative_information_pred": {"burst": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"", "start_byte": 4338, "end_byte": 4559, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 145.43500732421873, "cut_end_time": 157.20000732421875, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.", "cut_start_time": 159.65500732421876, "cut_end_time": 164.86000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "[Illustration]\n\n\"So -- \" Mike swallowed. \"So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said\" -- he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead -- \"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. \"Everybody knows what's outside his window!\" he burst out. <|quote_start|>\"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"So what did he say?\" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.\n\nMike examined the toe of his worn shoe. \"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.", "narrative_information_pred": {"burst": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"So what did he say?", "start_byte": 4561, "end_byte": 4581, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 158.13499267578123, "cut_end_time": 159.33011767578125, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.", "cut_start_time": 159.65500732421876, "cut_end_time": 164.86000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'\"\n\nMike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. \"Everybody knows what's outside his window!\" he burst out. \"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So what did he say?\"<|quote_end|> Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.\n\nMike examined the toe of his worn shoe. \"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"", "start_byte": 4739, "end_byte": 4841, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 167.21500549316406, "cut_end_time": 174.28000549316405, "narration": {"text": "For a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.", "cut_start_time": 175.7349932861328, "cut_end_time": 182.2001182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\" he burst out. \"Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an' -- you know.\"\n\n\"So what did he say?\" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.\n\nMike examined the toe of his worn shoe. <|quote_start|>\"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.\n\n\"Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?\"\n\nMike took heart, his experience believed and his bafflement shared. He spoke cheerfully. \"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?\"", "start_byte": 5024, "end_byte": 5077, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 184.69500244140625, "cut_end_time": 188.14000244140624, "narration": {"text": "For a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.", "cut_start_time": 175.7349932861328, "cut_end_time": 182.2001182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little.\n\nMike examined the toe of his worn shoe. \"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike took heart, his experience believed and his bafflement shared. He spoke cheerfully. \"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"\n\n\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?\" Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles.", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"", "start_byte": 5168, "end_byte": 5395, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 194.87500061035155, "cut_end_time": 206.38006311035156, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles.", "cut_start_time": 209.95499938964844, "cut_end_time": 219.84006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.\n\n\"Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?\"\n\nMike took heart, his experience believed and his bafflement shared. He spoke cheerfully. <|quote_start|>\"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?\" Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles. \"Think he really needs it?\" he pursued.\n\nBut Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.\n\n\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?", "start_byte": 5397, "end_byte": 5440, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 207.38500305175782, "cut_end_time": 209.6200030517578, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles.", "cut_start_time": 209.95499938964844, "cut_end_time": 219.84006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "For a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer.\n\nAt last, Chris broke the silence.\n\n\"Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?\"\n\nMike took heart, his experience believed and his bafflement shared. He spoke cheerfully. \"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?\"<|quote_end|> Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles. \"Think he really needs it?\" he pursued.\n\nBut Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.\n\n\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Think he really needs it?", "start_byte": 5628, "end_byte": 5654, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 220.77499572753905, "cut_end_time": 221.87012072753905, "narration": {"text": " Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles.", "cut_start_time": 209.95499938964844, "cut_end_time": 219.84006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"\n\n\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?\" Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles. <|quote_start|>\"Think he really needs it?\"<|quote_end|> he pursued.\n\nBut Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.\n\n\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick,\" he repeated, \"an' Jakey don' look so good himself.\"\n\n\"Well -- \" Chris said, half agreeing.\n\n\"I'll go with ya!\" Mike announced, as if that finished the argument; which, as a matter of fact, it did.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pursued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick,", "start_byte": 5753, "end_byte": 5885, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 227.65500427246093, "cut_end_time": 235.41006677246094, "narration": {"text": "But Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.", "cut_start_time": 223.2050067138672, "cut_end_time": 227.36006921386718, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"It doesn't make sense, but old Wicker's so old he may be addled, don't you reckon? Who else would keep an antique store where nobody ever looks? All the other antique places are along Wisconsin Avenue where people go to shop.\"\n\n\"You reckon Jakey really could use the job?\" Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles. \"Think he really needs it?\" he pursued.\n\nBut Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick,\"<|quote_end|> he repeated, \"an' Jakey don' look so good himself.\"\n\n\"Well -- \" Chris said, half agreeing.\n\n\"I'll go with ya!\" Mike announced, as if that finished the argument; which, as a matter of fact, it did.\n\nChris did not feel too happy about his mission and hung back a moment longer, looking in the Pep Boys' window at things he had already seen. He would have liked to get the job for Jakey, who needed it, but somehow the task of facing Mr. Wicker, especially now that the light was going and dusk edging into the streets, was not what Chris had intended for ending the afternoon. Although he had not been quite certain how he had meant to spend the rest of the remaining daylight, Mike's plan did not seem to fit his present mood.", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"an' Jakey don' look so good himself.\"", "start_byte": 5900, "end_byte": 5938, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 236.48500732421874, "cut_end_time": 238.28006982421874, "narration": {"text": "But Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.", "cut_start_time": 223.2050067138672, "cut_end_time": 227.36006921386718, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris asked, his courage ebbing as he pictured to himself the dark little shop with its bow window of small panes, and Mr. Wicker, so thin and wizened he seemed only bones and wrinkles. \"Think he really needs it?\" he pursued.\n\nBut Mike was certain, or perhaps he needed a companion in this curious experiment.\n\n\"You bet he does! He tol' me at noon today he wished he could find something that would help bring some money in. His mother's sick,\" he repeated, <|quote_start|>\"an' Jakey don' look so good himself.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Well -- \" Chris said, half agreeing.\n\n\"I'll go with ya!\" Mike announced, as if that finished the argument; which, as a matter of fact, it did.\n\nChris did not feel too happy about his mission and hung back a moment longer, looking in the Pep Boys' window at things he had already seen. He would have liked to get the job for Jakey, who needed it, but somehow the task of facing Mr. Wicker, especially now that the light was going and dusk edging into the streets, was not what Chris had intended for ending the afternoon. Although he had not been quite certain how he had meant to spend the rest of the remaining daylight, Mike's plan did not seem to fit his present mood.", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Are you coming?", "start_byte": 6614, "end_byte": 6630, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 274.7549890136719, "cut_end_time": 275.8001140136719, "narration": {"text": "Mike's expression changed at once to one of triumph, but Chris was only partly encouraged.", "cut_start_time": 282.77498901367187, "cut_end_time": 287.9400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Chris did not feel too happy about his mission and hung back a moment longer, looking in the Pep Boys' window at things he had already seen. He would have liked to get the job for Jakey, who needed it, but somehow the task of facing Mr. Wicker, especially now that the light was going and dusk edging into the streets, was not what Chris had intended for ending the afternoon. Although he had not been quite certain how he had meant to spend the rest of the remaining daylight, Mike's plan did not seem to fit his present mood.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Are you coming?\"<|quote_end|> Mike challenged, with a hint of derision.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Chris suddenly, \"I'm coming. I'll ask for Jakey.\"\n\nMike's expression changed at once to one of triumph, but Chris was only partly encouraged.\n\nThe two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.\n\nChris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.", "narrative_information_pred": {"challenged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "derision": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"I'm coming. I'll ask for Jakey.\"", "start_byte": 6703, "end_byte": 6736, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 280.5450109863281, "cut_end_time": 282.2300109863281, "narration": {"text": "Mike's expression changed at once to one of triumph, but Chris was only partly encouraged.", "cut_start_time": 282.77498901367187, "cut_end_time": 287.9400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Chris did not feel too happy about his mission and hung back a moment longer, looking in the Pep Boys' window at things he had already seen. He would have liked to get the job for Jakey, who needed it, but somehow the task of facing Mr. Wicker, especially now that the light was going and dusk edging into the streets, was not what Chris had intended for ending the afternoon. Although he had not been quite certain how he had meant to spend the rest of the remaining daylight, Mike's plan did not seem to fit his present mood.\n\n\"Are you coming?\" Mike challenged, with a hint of derision.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Chris suddenly, <|quote_start|>\"I'm coming. I'll ask for Jakey.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMike's expression changed at once to one of triumph, but Chris was only partly encouraged.\n\nThe two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.\n\nChris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"", "start_byte": 7596, "end_byte": 7628, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 332.4650073242188, "cut_end_time": 334.0200073242188, "narration": {"text": "The two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.", "cut_start_time": 288.45499511718754, "cut_end_time": 297.8301201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Chris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Aw -- you're stalling!\"", "start_byte": 7686, "end_byte": 7710, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 339.0250134277344, "cut_end_time": 340.5500759277344, "narration": {"text": "The two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.", "cut_start_time": 288.45499511718754, "cut_end_time": 297.8301201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Chris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.\n\n\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. <|quote_start|>\"Aw -- you're stalling!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"", "start_byte": 7712, "end_byte": 7749, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 341.2550134277344, "cut_end_time": 343.7000759277344, "narration": {"text": "The two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.", "cut_start_time": 288.45499511718754, "cut_end_time": 297.8301201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Chris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.\n\n\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"O.K. Let's see you.\"", "start_byte": 7751, "end_byte": 7772, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 344.1050085449219, "cut_end_time": 345.8700710449219, "narration": {"text": "The two boys walked to the corner of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue. Traffic roared up the first short block of Wisconsin from under the high steel freeway down to their left.", "cut_start_time": 288.45499511718754, "cut_end_time": 297.8301201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Chris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.\n\n\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"O.K. Let's see you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"\n\n\"Aw shucks", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"You said you were coming with me!\"", "start_byte": 7963, "end_byte": 7998, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 357.66499755859377, "cut_end_time": 359.09012255859375, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.", "cut_start_time": 346.56501220703126, "cut_end_time": 354.68001220703127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Chris glanced down the slope of Wisconsin. Houses and shops thinned suddenly on both sides of the street. Far down at the very end, on his side, he could see the brick walls and slate roof of Mr. Wicker's house. Chris knew it well, for times without number he had pressed his nose to the square Georgian panes of Mr. Wicker's window to gaze at the strangely fascinating jumble of oddments that were displayed. Now, however, he felt in no mood to visit the curiosity shop and stood shifting his feet and looking aimlessly about. Mike, beside him, was becoming restive, and gave him a poke.\n\n\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. <|quote_start|>\"You said you were coming with me!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"\n\n\"Aw shucks!\" Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.\n\n\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,\" Mike shouted. \"It won't take me long,\" and throwing out his hands to signify that there was nothing he could do about it he disappeared.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "indignant": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Well, I was,", "start_byte": 8000, "end_byte": 8013, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 359.83500610351564, "cut_end_time": 360.93000610351567, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.", "cut_start_time": 346.56501220703126, "cut_end_time": 354.68001220703127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"Betcha aren't goin' after all!\"\n\nChris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Well, I was,\"<|quote_end|> Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"\n\n\"Aw shucks!\" Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.\n\n\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,\" Mike shouted. \"It won't take me long,\" and throwing out his hands to signify that there was nothing he could do about it he disappeared.", "narrative_information_pred": {"howled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"", "start_byte": 8033, "end_byte": 8166, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 362.2050085449219, "cut_end_time": 369.6200085449219, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.", "cut_start_time": 346.56501220703126, "cut_end_time": 354.68001220703127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Chris turned on him. \"Am too!\"\n\nMike looked disdainful. \"Aw -- you're stalling!\"\n\n\"Not any sucha thing. I'm going now.\"\n\n\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, <|quote_start|>\"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aw shucks!\" Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.\n\n\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,\" Mike shouted. \"It won't take me long,\" and throwing out his hands to signify that there was nothing he could do about it he disappeared.\n\nChris started off once more, passing the bleak little Victorian church perched on the hill above Mr. Wicker's house. An empty lot cut into by Church Lane gave a look of isolation to the L-shaped brick building that served Mr. Wicker as both house and place of business. Chris paused to look below him. Even from where he stood, fifty feet above the house, the slope of the hill was sharp and the plan of the house below him could be plainly seen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"howled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Aw shucks!", "start_byte": 8168, "end_byte": 8179, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 369.4949890136719, "cut_end_time": 370.6301140136719, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.", "cut_start_time": 346.56501220703126, "cut_end_time": 354.68001220703127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"O.K. Let's see you.\"\n\nChris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aw shucks!\"<|quote_end|> Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.\n\n\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,\" Mike shouted. \"It won't take me long,\" and throwing out his hands to signify that there was nothing he could do about it he disappeared.\n\nChris started off once more, passing the bleak little Victorian church perched on the hill above Mr. Wicker's house. An empty lot cut into by Church Lane gave a look of isolation to the L-shaped brick building that served Mr. Wicker as both house and place of business. Chris paused to look below him. Even from where he stood, fifty feet above the house, the slope of the hill was sharp and the plan of the house below him could be plainly seen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"kicked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "scowled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,", "start_byte": 8289, "end_byte": 8332, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 379.3349877929688, "cut_end_time": 381.20011279296875, "narration": {"text": " Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.", "cut_start_time": 371.3550085449219, "cut_end_time": 377.5000085449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Chris turned his back on Mike and started down the hill. After a step or two, not finding his friend beside him, he turned. Mike was standing on the corner.\n\n\"Hi!\" Chris called, indignant. \"You said you were coming with me!\"\n\n\"Well, I was,\" Mike howled back, \"but I just remembered. My mother told me to bring her some stuff from the Safeway. I'll run all the way and come back and meet you.\"\n\n\"Aw shucks!\" Chris kicked at a nonexistent pebble and scowled. But a chore was a chore, and was never worth discussion.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'll meetcha in fifteen or twenty minutes,\"<|quote_end|> Mike shouted. \"It won't take me long,\" and throwing out his hands to signify that there was nothing he could do about it he disappeared.\n\nChris started off once more, passing the bleak little Victorian church perched on the hill above Mr. Wicker's house. An empty lot cut into by Church Lane gave a look of isolation to the L-shaped brick building that served Mr. Wicker as both house and place of business. Chris paused to look below him. Even from where he stood, fifty feet above the house, the slope of the hill was sharp and the plan of the house below him could be plainly seen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_02_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 33}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..240157d00ba14ef425ba5eaacf80672b267443af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"First and foremost,", "start_byte": 40323, "end_byte": 40343, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 51.54500076293945, "cut_end_time": 52.73006326293945, "narration": {"text": "His eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.", "cut_start_time": 41.72499862670899, "cut_end_time": 49.780123626708985, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The sailor stretched back in his chair, one hand holding the mug of ale. His short nose and red, wind-burned cheeks seemed to share the joke with his eyes as he finally leaned forward across the table with an air of conspiracy.\n\nCHAPTER 5\n\n\"Well now,\" began Cilley, \"that's a tale that not everyone knows, don't you see. And Mistress Becky would not care to be reminded of it, mark you, for reasons I shall shortly tell.\"\n\nHis eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"First and foremost,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"You had best know who I am.\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"You had best know who I am.", "start_byte": 40354, "end_byte": 40382, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 53.74500045776367, "cut_end_time": 55.08006295776367, "narration": {"text": "His eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.", "cut_start_time": 41.72499862670899, "cut_end_time": 49.780123626708985, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "The sailor stretched back in his chair, one hand holding the mug of ale. His short nose and red, wind-burned cheeks seemed to share the joke with his eyes as he finally leaned forward across the table with an air of conspiracy.\n\nCHAPTER 5\n\n\"Well now,\" began Cilley, \"that's a tale that not everyone knows, don't you see. And Mistress Becky would not care to be reminded of it, mark you, for reasons I shall shortly tell.\"\n\nHis eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"You had best know who I am.\"<|quote_end|> He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"", "start_byte": 40514, "end_byte": 40554, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 64.175, "cut_end_time": 66.35006249999999, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"Well now,\" began Cilley, \"that's a tale that not everyone knows, don't you see. And Mistress Becky would not care to be reminded of it, mark you, for reasons I shall shortly tell.\"\n\nHis eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" he said, \"You had best know who I am.\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, <|quote_start|>\"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"The Mirabelle!", "start_byte": 40556, "end_byte": 40571, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 66.90500030517578, "cut_end_time": 68.07000030517578, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"Well now,\" began Cilley, \"that's a tale that not everyone knows, don't you see. And Mistress Becky would not care to be reminded of it, mark you, for reasons I shall shortly tell.\"\n\nHis eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" he said, \"You had best know who I am.\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The Mirabelle!\"<|quote_end|> Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"", "start_byte": 40590, "end_byte": 40629, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 69.60499847412109, "cut_end_time": 71.86012347412108, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "His eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" he said, \"You had best know who I am.\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, <|quote_start|>\"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"", "start_byte": 40669, "end_byte": 40786, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 76.05499633789061, "cut_end_time": 82.36005883789062, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "His eyes, humorous as they were, took on a shrewdness under their sandy brows as if judging the character of the boy before him and his ability to keep a secret.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" he said, \"You had best know who I am.\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, <|quote_start|>\"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside?\" he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "nodding": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "sagely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"You made it yourself?", "start_byte": 40788, "end_byte": 40810, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 83.55499877929687, "cut_end_time": 84.95012377929687, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\" He leaned back and hooked his thumbs under his armpits in a prideful gesture.\n\n\"My lad,\" said Ned Cilley, thrusting out his chin, \"I am a member of the Mirabelle's crew!\"\n\n\"The Mirabelle!\" Chris exclaimed, \"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You made it yourself?\"<|quote_end|> Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside?\" he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like", "narrative_information_pred": {"breathed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"How in the world could you get it inside?", "start_byte": 41017, "end_byte": 41059, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 98.09500213623046, "cut_end_time": 100.23000213623047, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Why -- that's the ship in the bottle!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" agreed Cilley, nodding sagely, \"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. <|quote_start|>\"How in the world could you get it inside?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\" Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"", "start_byte": 41093, "end_byte": 41208, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 103.00499725341797, "cut_end_time": 109.43005975341796, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"The model of it's in a bottle right enough, since it's meself that made it, the last trip home from the Chiny Seas.\"\n\n\"You made it yourself?\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside?\" he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. <|quote_start|>\"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\" Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"\n\n\"Yes -- yes!\" Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, \"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home", "narrative_information_pred": {"wagged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"China? You've been there? What's it like?", "start_byte": 41210, "end_byte": 41252, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 110.28500091552733, "cut_end_time": 112.79000091552734, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside?\" he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\"<|quote_end|> Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"\n\n\"Yes -- yes!\" Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, \"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home", "narrative_information_pred": {"wanted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "eager": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"", "start_byte": 41349, "end_byte": 41464, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 118.89499938964843, "cut_end_time": 124.83006188964843, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris breathed, looking aghast at the gnarled knotted fingers, thick and roughened by work and weather, picturing to himself the delicacy of the miniature ship that lay so snugly in its transparent walls. \"How in the world could you get it inside?\" he asked.\n\nNed wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\" Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. <|quote_start|>\"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes -- yes!\" Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, \"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home.\" He looked arch as if Chris must know the reason for that. \"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"\n\nHe took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "friendly": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Yes -- yes!", "start_byte": 41466, "end_byte": 41478, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 125.21499908447265, "cut_end_time": 127.86006158447265, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Ned wagged his head. \"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\" Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes -- yes!\"<|quote_end|> Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, \"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home.\" He looked arch as if Chris must know the reason for that. \"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"\n\nHe took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"urged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home.", "start_byte": 41546, "end_byte": 41641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 129.91500122070312, "cut_end_time": 134.32000122070312, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Ah, 'tis a trick and a tedious thing, no mistaking, but there's time and to spare for it, coming home from China.\"\n\n\"China? You've been there? What's it like?\" Chris wanted to know, his eyes eager.\n\nCilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"\n\n\"Yes -- yes!\" Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, <|quote_start|>\"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home.\"<|quote_end|> He looked arch as if Chris must know the reason for that. \"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"\n\nHe took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.\n\n\"It seems,\" he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"", "start_byte": 41701, "end_byte": 41822, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 138.10499816894531, "cut_end_time": 144.1700606689453, "narration": {"text": " he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.", "cut_start_time": 148.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 157.2700048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Cilley smiled at him, a snaggled-toothed friendly grin. \"That's a tale for another time, my boy, for there's much telling there. You wanted the story of Becky's fine hat.\"\n\n\"Yes -- yes!\" Chris urged. \"Before she comes back.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" began Cilley, \"Bein' a member of the Mirabelle and all, means I see quite a bit of this port when we're home.\" He looked arch as if Chris must know the reason for that. <|quote_start|>\"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.\n\n\"It seems,\" he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.\n\n\"Now -- \" and the sailor leaned forward as the story held his own interest -- \"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "arch": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.", "start_byte": 42125, "end_byte": 42231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 162.95499450683593, "cut_end_time": 168.53005700683593, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"An' seein' as how Mistress Becky and me are fast friends, well -- she's told me a thing or two that not everyone knows.\"\n\nHe took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.\n\n\"It seems,\" he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.\n\n\"Now -- \" and the sailor leaned forward as the story held his own interest -- <|quote_start|>\"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\"<|quote_end|> He eyed Chris again closely. \"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\" Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"held": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,", "start_byte": 42262, "end_byte": 42301, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 171.0050048828125, "cut_end_time": 173.3000673828125, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "He took a pull on the mug and wiped the froth from his lips.\n\n\"It seems,\" he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.\n\n\"Now -- \" and the sailor leaned forward as the story held his own interest -- \"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely. <|quote_start|>\"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\"<|quote_end|> Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"conjured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"", "start_byte": 42324, "end_byte": 42440, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 174.9550030517578, "cut_end_time": 182.1700655517578, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"It seems,\" he began, \"that in her younger days, Mistress Becky had one craving. She'd seen this hat that she now wears, in a milliner's, and have it she must.\n\n\"Now -- \" and the sailor leaned forward as the story held his own interest -- \"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely. \"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\" Cilley conjured him, <|quote_start|>\"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"conjured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,", "start_byte": 42442, "end_byte": 42477, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 182.9750030517578, "cut_end_time": 185.39000305175782, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Now -- \" and the sailor leaned forward as the story held his own interest -- \"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely. \"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\" Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\"<|quote_end|> Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"assured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Well now,", "start_byte": 42528, "end_byte": 42538, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 189.23499694824218, "cut_end_time": 190.5401219482422, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely. \"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\" Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. <|quote_start|>\"Well now,\"<|quote_end|> hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"hunching": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"", "start_byte": 42572, "end_byte": 42683, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 192.22499328613281, "cut_end_time": 198.03011828613282, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"now a hat of that sort costs many a shilling, and Becky worked and saved for that bonnet for over a year.\" He eyed Chris again closely. \"If you tell what I tell ye, Chris lad,\" Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, <|quote_start|>\"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.", "narrative_information_pred": {"hunching": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"The spectacle?", "start_byte": 42685, "end_byte": 42700, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 198.26500549316407, "cut_end_time": 200.02000549316406, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\" Cilley conjured him, \"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The spectacle?\"<|quote_end|> Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.", "narrative_information_pred": {"questioned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"What's that?\"", "start_byte": 42743, "end_byte": 42757, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 202.72500122070312, "cut_end_time": 204.7400012207031, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. <|quote_start|>\"What's that?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.", "narrative_information_pred": {"questioned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Haw -- Haw!", "start_byte": 42759, "end_byte": 42771, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 204.73499938964844, "cut_end_time": 205.95012438964844, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Haw -- Haw!\"<|quote_end|> cackled Cilley, \"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cackled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"", "start_byte": 42789, "end_byte": 42884, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 207.33500732421874, "cut_end_time": 214.12006982421875, "narration": {"text": " Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.", "cut_start_time": 216.005, "cut_end_time": 225.16006249999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"I shall get even with ye, I swear I will! For I would never want to hurt the feelin's of Becky Boozer, on my oath.\"\n\n\"I'll not tell, sir. Not to anyone,\" Chris assured him.\n\nNed Cilley seemed satisfied. \"Well now,\" hunching closer with his chair, \"It seems at long last she paid for that bonnet, and decided to wear it to the spectacle, that very afternoon.\"\n\n\"The spectacle?\" Chris questioned, his forehead wrinkled. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Haw -- Haw!\" cackled Cilley, <|quote_start|>\"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.\n\n\"Now as you seem not acquainted with the theatre, me lad, let me tell you that we give it here in any hall standing vacant, and out of doors in fair weather, and we set the benches in rows for those that pay for seats.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cackled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Now as you seem not acquainted with the theatre, me lad, let me tell you that we give it here in any hall standing vacant, and out of doors in fair weather, and we set the benches in rows for those that pay for seats.\"", "start_byte": 43272, "end_byte": 43491, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 238.1549981689453, "cut_end_time": 249.5800606689453, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"You are a country boy! Why -- the spectacle, where the players are. The theatre -- what else?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Chris said shortly, and thought of television and the movies, and held his tongue. He was beginning to try to fit himself into two centuries before his own time.\n\n\"Yes,\" took up Cilley, \"so as I was saying, Mistress Boozer bein' young and flighty in them days, and rightful proud of the bonnet she had took so long to earn, wore it to the spectacle, together with her best gown.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now as you seem not acquainted with the theatre, me lad, let me tell you that we give it here in any hall standing vacant, and out of doors in fair weather, and we set the benches in rows for those that pay for seats.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.\n\n\"Mistress Becky gets herself a good place, on this occasion, and sits herself down, a-tossin' of her feathers and her flowers, and as proud as a peacock, every inch of her. The people pack the benches, and the performance then begins.\n\n\"Rightly -- \" and Cilley jabbed the pipestem at Chris -- \"Rightly, only ladies of quality wear such hats as Becky wore, and should they go to the spectacle -- which would be doubtful, for the crowd makes it no place for gentlewomen -- they would be sitting off apart, don't you see?", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Well, did she take it off?", "start_byte": 44870, "end_byte": 44897, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 329.5350024414063, "cut_end_time": 331.1000024414063, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"But Becky sat spang in the center of the hall, and -- you've seen the hat? 'Tis big enough for two and no mistake, and spreads along as well as up -- well, the time came to begin. The players came out on the stage, a-speakin' of their parts and abrandishin' of their arms as they do, when all at once a gentleman sitting behind Becky Boozer leaned forward and asked her -- ever so polite -- 'Madam,' sez he, 'please be so good as to remove your bonnet!'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHere Cilley leaned forward, one hand on his stomach to facilitate a bow, aping as best he could the speech and manners of a gentleman. In a flash he resumed his own character and turned to Chris.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Well, did she take it off?\"<|quote_end|> Ned demanded of Chris, frowning with concentration. \"'Twas asked with rare politeness, anyone would agree to that.\" He shook his head solemnly. \"Why no, Master Christopher, that she did not! Our Becky had just paid the final pence upon that hat, and after a year, seven months and eighteen days, the hat was hers. She wanted all beholders to admire it. What cared she if the gentleman seated on the bench behind her saw more of her bonnet than of the play? In Becky Boozer's opinion, 'twas a more than fair exchange! So she tossed her head, did Becky, and deigned not even a reply.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"demanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"'Twas asked with rare politeness, anyone would agree to that.", "start_byte": 44951, "end_byte": 45013, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 334.3550122070313, "cut_end_time": 337.37001220703127, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"But Becky sat spang in the center of the hall, and -- you've seen the hat? 'Tis big enough for two and no mistake, and spreads along as well as up -- well, the time came to begin. The players came out on the stage, a-speakin' of their parts and abrandishin' of their arms as they do, when all at once a gentleman sitting behind Becky Boozer leaned forward and asked her -- ever so polite -- 'Madam,' sez he, 'please be so good as to remove your bonnet!'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHere Cilley leaned forward, one hand on his stomach to facilitate a bow, aping as best he could the speech and manners of a gentleman. In a flash he resumed his own character and turned to Chris.\n\n\"Well, did she take it off?\" Ned demanded of Chris, frowning with concentration. <|quote_start|>\"'Twas asked with rare politeness, anyone would agree to that.\"<|quote_end|> He shook his head solemnly. \"Why no, Master Christopher, that she did not! Our Becky had just paid the final pence upon that hat, and after a year, seven months and eighteen days, the hat was hers. She wanted all beholders to admire it. What cared she if the gentleman seated on the bench behind her saw more of her bonnet than of the play? In Becky Boozer's opinion, 'twas a more than fair exchange! So she tossed her head, did Becky, and deigned not even a reply.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"demanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "frowning": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "solemnly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"The poor gentleman says again,", "start_byte": 46268, "end_byte": 46299, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 409.1949926757813, "cut_end_time": 410.82011767578126, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Cilley tossed his own sun-bleached thatch and pursed up his mouth in imitation of Becky. Then, with another rapid change of grimace, he squinted up his eyes to signify the growing intensity of the situation, and leaning half-way across the table, shoved the dishes, pies, and pickles out of his way with his elbows. His deep voice sank to a husky whisper.\n\n\"So the performance went on, and never a glimpse of it did the poor gentleman see, seated as he was behind our Becky Boozer. So once more he bends forward and he speaks at her ear, urgent-like -- \"\n\nCilley's eyebrows rose and fell with his agitation. So strong was the grip of the story upon him that it was evident that he fancied himself at the play, and could see the whole thing before him as plain as day.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The poor gentleman says again,\"<|quote_end|> he took up, \"'Madam,' he says, 'I beg of you -- please to be so kind! Nothing of the spectacle can I see! Please and be so good as to remove your hat!'\n\n\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.\" Ned Cilley shook his head from side to side, \"No, no, you would not.\" He leaned back, waving his hand as if to wipe away any lingering doubt in Chris's mind. \"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that prou", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.", "start_byte": 46454, "end_byte": 46494, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 423.4649987792969, "cut_end_time": 426.1301237792969, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"So the performance went on, and never a glimpse of it did the poor gentleman see, seated as he was behind our Becky Boozer. So once more he bends forward and he speaks at her ear, urgent-like -- \"\n\nCilley's eyebrows rose and fell with his agitation. So strong was the grip of the story upon him that it was evident that he fancied himself at the play, and could see the whole thing before him as plain as day.\n\n\"The poor gentleman says again,\" he took up, \"'Madam,' he says, 'I beg of you -- please to be so kind! Nothing of the spectacle can I see! Please and be so good as to remove your hat!'\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.\"<|quote_end|> Ned Cilley shook his head from side to side, \"No, no, you would not.\" He leaned back, waving his hand as if to wipe away any lingering doubt in Chris's mind. \"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that proud\" -- he dropped his voice -- \"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"No, no, you would not.", "start_byte": 46541, "end_byte": 46564, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 429.805009765625, "cut_end_time": 431.640009765625, "narration": {"text": "He pulled out an evil-smelling clay pipe and stuffed it with tobacco, tamping it down with one grubby forefinger, and when it was well lit, pointed the stem at Chris by way of emphasis.", "cut_start_time": 250.12499633789062, "cut_end_time": 259.47005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Cilley's eyebrows rose and fell with his agitation. So strong was the grip of the story upon him that it was evident that he fancied himself at the play, and could see the whole thing before him as plain as day.\n\n\"The poor gentleman says again,\" he took up, \"'Madam,' he says, 'I beg of you -- please to be so kind! Nothing of the spectacle can I see! Please and be so good as to remove your hat!'\n\n\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.\" Ned Cilley shook his head from side to side, <|quote_start|>\"No, no, you would not.\"<|quote_end|> He leaned back, waving his hand as if to wipe away any lingering doubt in Chris's mind. \"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that proud\" -- he dropped his voice -- \"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"\n\nMaster Cilley took a red bandanna handkerchief from his coattail pocket and mopped his face, so excited and heated had he become at his own telling of the tale. Then once more he leaned forward confidentially.", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "voice": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that proud", "start_byte": 46654, "end_byte": 46707, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 436.4349987792969, "cut_end_time": 440.3001237792969, "narration": {"text": "Ned Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.", "cut_start_time": 482.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 489.7300036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\"The poor gentleman says again,\" he took up, \"'Madam,' he says, 'I beg of you -- please to be so kind! Nothing of the spectacle can I see! Please and be so good as to remove your hat!'\n\n\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.\" Ned Cilley shook his head from side to side, \"No, no, you would not.\" He leaned back, waving his hand as if to wipe away any lingering doubt in Chris's mind. <|quote_start|>\"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that proud\"<|quote_end|> -- he dropped his voice -- \"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"\n\nMaster Cilley took a red bandanna handkerchief from his coattail pocket and mopped his face, so excited and heated had he become at his own telling of the tale. Then once more he leaned forward confidentially.", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "voice": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"", "start_byte": 46736, "end_byte": 46924, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.68500610351566, "cut_end_time": 455.1200686035156, "narration": {"text": "Ned Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.", "cut_start_time": 482.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 489.7300036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\" he took up, \"'Madam,' he says, 'I beg of you -- please to be so kind! Nothing of the spectacle can I see! Please and be so good as to remove your hat!'\n\n\"And would you believe it, my lad -- no.\" Ned Cilley shook his head from side to side, \"No, no, you would not.\" He leaned back, waving his hand as if to wipe away any lingering doubt in Chris's mind. \"Mistress Rebecca Boozer was that proud -- that proud\" -- he dropped his voice -- <|quote_start|>\"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMaster Cilley took a red bandanna handkerchief from his coattail pocket and mopped his face, so excited and heated had he become at his own telling of the tale. Then once more he leaned forward confidentially.\n\n\"Well, little did she dream, our Becky Boozer. For when she tossed her head the second time and made no motion to remove her hat, the gentleman bent toward her, and -- no doubt, his words were for her alone. And this is what he said.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "voice": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Well, little did she dream, our Becky Boozer. For when she tossed her head the second time and made no motion to remove her hat, the gentleman bent toward her, and -- no doubt, his words were for her alone. And this is what he said.\"", "start_byte": 47137, "end_byte": 47371, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 467.6350146484375, "cut_end_time": 482.2600771484375, "narration": {"text": "Ned Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.", "cut_start_time": 482.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 489.7300036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\" -- he dropped his voice -- \"that not for the world would she remove her bonnet. Dear me no! She tossed her head again, feeling all them plumes a-tossin' too, and sat up straighter than before. An' she a tall woman.\"\n\nMaster Cilley took a red bandanna handkerchief from his coattail pocket and mopped his face, so excited and heated had he become at his own telling of the tale. Then once more he leaned forward confidentially.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Well, little did she dream, our Becky Boozer. For when she tossed her head the second time and made no motion to remove her hat, the gentleman bent toward her, and -- no doubt, his words were for her alone. And this is what he said.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nNed Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.\n\n\"He said -- and so she told me, it did sound like a roar of thunder, though no one else did seem aware of it -- 'So, then, Rebecca Boozer, wear your hat!' the gentleman said. 'The Devil himself shall have no power to take it off'n you'!", "narrative_information_pred": {"leaned": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "confidentially": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"And do you know,", "start_byte": 47781, "end_byte": 47798, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 507.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 509.0100771484375, "narration": {"text": "Ned Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.", "cut_start_time": 482.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 489.7300036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Ned Cilley's blue eyes popped and he cupped his hand by the side of his mouth so that his words could carry no further than the few inches dividing the boy and the man.\n\n\"He said -- and so she told me, it did sound like a roar of thunder, though no one else did seem aware of it -- 'So, then, Rebecca Boozer, wear your hat!' the gentleman said. 'The Devil himself shall have no power to take it off'n you'!\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And do you know,\"<|quote_end|> whispered Cilley in a low rumble, his eyes starting out of his head as were Chris's own, \"'Tis our belief it must have been the Devil himself who sat behind her there, for from that very time Rebecca Boozer has been unable to remove that hat, neither by pushing, pulling, prying, steaming, cutting, tearing, nor by any method howsomever! The Devil it was! The Devil it must have been!\"\n\nMaster Cilley, exhausted by his recital, fell back in his chair, with just strength enough left to replenish his pewter mug from the jug of ale. Then, refreshed, he set the mug down, wiped his lips, and cocked an eye at Chris who sat staring at him open-mouthed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "low": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "rumble": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"I have. You'll not be able to heave it off, that I promise you. That hat is there for good and all. Mistress Boozer will doubtless be buried in that bonnet.", "start_byte": 48501, "end_byte": 48658, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 556.4050244140625, "cut_end_time": 566.0300869140625, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\"'Tis our belief it must have been the Devil himself who sat behind her there, for from that very time Rebecca Boozer has been unable to remove that hat, neither by pushing, pulling, prying, steaming, cutting, tearing, nor by any method howsomever! The Devil it was! The Devil it must have been!\"\n\nMaster Cilley, exhausted by his recital, fell back in his chair, with just strength enough left to replenish his pewter mug from the jug of ale. Then, refreshed, he set the mug down, wiped his lips, and cocked an eye at Chris who sat staring at him open-mouthed.\n\n\"Try it yourself,\" he suggested wagging his head. <|quote_start|>\"I have. You'll not be able to heave it off, that I promise you. That hat is there for good and all. Mistress Boozer will doubtless be buried in that bonnet.\"<|quote_end|> He cocked his head the other way. \"And what do you think of that?\" Ned Cilley enquired.\n\nAfter a long and thoughtful pause Chris found his voice.\n\n\"Master Cilley,\" he said respectfully, \"Does she -- does she sleep in it?\" he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.", "narrative_information_pred": {"suggested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "wagging": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"And what do you think of that?", "start_byte": 48694, "end_byte": 48725, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 568.5650073242188, "cut_end_time": 570.0400698242188, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "Master Cilley, exhausted by his recital, fell back in his chair, with just strength enough left to replenish his pewter mug from the jug of ale. Then, refreshed, he set the mug down, wiped his lips, and cocked an eye at Chris who sat staring at him open-mouthed.\n\n\"Try it yourself,\" he suggested wagging his head. \"I have. You'll not be able to heave it off, that I promise you. That hat is there for good and all. Mistress Boozer will doubtless be buried in that bonnet.\" He cocked his head the other way. <|quote_start|>\"And what do you think of that?\"<|quote_end|> Ned Cilley enquired.\n\nAfter a long and thoughtful pause Chris found his voice.\n\n\"Master Cilley,\" he said respectfully, \"Does she -- does she sleep in it?\" he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.", "narrative_information_pred": {"enquired": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"Master Cilley,", "start_byte": 48807, "end_byte": 48822, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 576.1850170898438, "cut_end_time": 577.8100170898438, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "Master Cilley, exhausted by his recital, fell back in his chair, with just strength enough left to replenish his pewter mug from the jug of ale. Then, refreshed, he set the mug down, wiped his lips, and cocked an eye at Chris who sat staring at him open-mouthed.\n\n\"Try it yourself,\" he suggested wagging his head. \"I have. You'll not be able to heave it off, that I promise you. That hat is there for good and all. Mistress Boozer will doubtless be buried in that bonnet.\" He cocked his head the other way. \"And what do you think of that?\" Ned Cilley enquired.\n\nAfter a long and thoughtful pause Chris found his voice.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Master Cilley,\"<|quote_end|> he said respectfully, \"Does she -- does she sleep in it?\" he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "respectfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\"Does she -- does she sleep in it?", "start_byte": 48846, "end_byte": 48880, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.6650244140625, "cut_end_time": 583.9500244140626, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"Try it yourself,\" he suggested wagging his head. \"I have. You'll not be able to heave it off, that I promise you. That hat is there for good and all. Mistress Boozer will doubtless be buried in that bonnet.\" He cocked his head the other way. \"And what do you think of that?\" Ned Cilley enquired.\n\nAfter a long and thoughtful pause Chris found his voice.\n\n\"Master Cilley,\" he said respectfully, <|quote_start|>\"Does she -- does she sleep in it?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.\n\n\"Be off with you, boy!\" she cried.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"Be off with you, boy!", "start_byte": 49292, "end_byte": 49314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 618.4250122070313, "cut_end_time": 619.7100122070312, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\" he said respectfully, \"Does she -- does she sleep in it?\" he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Be off with you, boy!\"<|quote_end|> she cried. \"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"\n\nShe looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.\n\n\"Get along with you!\" she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar. \"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"", "start_byte": 49327, "end_byte": 49394, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 620.5150024414063, "cut_end_time": 624.0200024414063, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\" he asked.\n\nThe picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.\n\n\"Be off with you, boy!\" she cried. <|quote_start|>\"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.\n\n\"Get along with you!\" she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar. \"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right,\" Becky said, \"and knock before you go in!\"\n\nChris started off, but in the dusk of the passage he looked back in time to see Becky Boozer lost in tittering giggles and wild blushes as Master Cilley, reaching up as high as his arm would go, chucked her under the chin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"Get along with you!", "start_byte": 49548, "end_byte": 49568, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.3649731445313, "cut_end_time": 633.5700356445312, "narration": {"text": "She looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.", "cut_start_time": 624.4949731445313, "cut_end_time": 631.3700356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "The picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.\n\n\"Be off with you, boy!\" she cried. \"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"\n\nShe looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Get along with you!\"<|quote_end|> she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar. \"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right,\" Becky said, \"and knock before you go in!\"\n\nChris started off, but in the dusk of the passage he looked back in time to see Becky Boozer lost in tittering giggles and wild blushes as Master Cilley, reaching up as high as his arm would go, chucked her under the chin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right,", "start_byte": 49641, "end_byte": 49740, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 638.0950268554687, "cut_end_time": 644.9300893554688, "narration": {"text": " she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar.", "cut_start_time": 633.9949926757813, "cut_end_time": 637.6501176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "The picture of the elephantine Becky Boozer with a counter-pane under her chin and the hat with twenty-four red roses and twelve waving black plumes rising above the pillow took hold of the sailor's fancy. He tipped back in his chair and laughed till he cried, and as he was coughing and spluttering, Mistress Boozer herself came rustling out of the passageway and across the kitchen to the table.\n\n\"Be off with you, boy!\" she cried. \"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"\n\nShe looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.\n\n\"Get along with you!\" she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar. <|quote_start|>\"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right,\"<|quote_end|> Becky said, \"and knock before you go in!\"\n\nChris started off, but in the dusk of the passage he looked back in time to see Becky Boozer lost in tittering giggles and wild blushes as Master Cilley, reaching up as high as his arm would go, chucked her under the chin.\n\nCHAPTER 6\n\nChris stood for a moment before the closed door of Mr. Wicker's study. His head was full of the story of Becky Boozer's hat or he might have glimpsed the room beside him -- for the passage stopped at this point. Beyond the passage lay the dimly glimmering shop with its bow window at the far end, and the door to the street beside it. He might have been able, had he not been so intent on Becky's story, to slip past the dusty bales and cases and out into -- what? But Chris's head was ringing with Ned Cilley's tale, and with all the things, so different and so absorbing, that surrounded him. He put out his hand, knocked, and on hearing a low reply, stepped inside.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\"and knock before you go in!\"", "start_byte": 49754, "end_byte": 49783, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 645.1250170898438, "cut_end_time": 646.5800170898438, "narration": {"text": " she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar.", "cut_start_time": 633.9949926757813, "cut_end_time": 637.6501176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\"You and Cilley -- you're two of a kind, that is plain to be seen!\"\n\nShe looked from one to the other and Chris decided that it was a good thing for him that Becky likened him to the object of her doting, Master Cilley.\n\n\"Get along with you!\" she cried again, pulling Chris up out of his chair by his coat collar. \"You are wanted by the master in his study, so look sharp! It's down the passage and to your right,\" Becky said, <|quote_start|>\"and knock before you go in!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris started off, but in the dusk of the passage he looked back in time to see Becky Boozer lost in tittering giggles and wild blushes as Master Cilley, reaching up as high as his arm would go, chucked her under the chin.\n\nCHAPTER 6\n\nChris stood for a moment before the closed door of Mr. Wicker's study. His head was full of the story of Becky Boozer's hat or he might have glimpsed the room beside him -- for the passage stopped at this point. Beyond the passage lay the dimly glimmering shop with its bow window at the far end, and the door to the street beside it. He might have been able, had he not been so intent on Becky's story, to slip past the dusty bales and cases and out into -- what? But Chris's head was ringing with Ned Cilley's tale, and with all the things, so different and so absorbing, that surrounded him. He put out his hand, knocked, and on hearing a low reply, stepped inside.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_05_dawson_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 53}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b4a5b5c440e38305e98d9fc9f4fea5806d25d5da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"No, my boy. The church is not yet built. That will come in seventy years. In eighteen-sixty, to be exact. Confusing, is it not?\"", "start_byte": 51500, "end_byte": 51629, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 123.61499938964843, "cut_end_time": 134.59006188964844, "narration": {"text": "Chris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.", "cut_start_time": 135.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 144.58000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The room Chris entered, his eyes round in order to take in every new sight, was a small study. It stretched across the back of the house. The kitchen fireplace had its echo in a fireplace on this side of the wall, and facing Chris three windows looked out onto the pleached pear and apple trees; the ordered rows of the vegetable and herb garden. A final window at the end of the room, at Chris's left, looked out on a little hill behind the house. Chris, without thinking, stepped forward a pace or two in order to look for the familiar ugly red and gray church at the end of Church Lane. It was not to be seen. There was only a pasture hemmed by woods and fine trees with, in the distance where M Street should be, a roof or two.\n\nA thin voice, that came from nowhere and was everywhere, broke in to Chris.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, my boy. The church is not yet built. That will come in seventy years. In eighteen-sixty, to be exact. Confusing, is it not?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.\n\nMr. Wicker's study was cosy and bright, well warmed by a cheerfully burning fire. The heavy curtains, drawn back now from the windows to let in the morning sun, were of a fine ruby damask. The furniture consisted, as far as Chris was concerned, of antiques. Two wing chairs covered in red leather, tacked at the edges with brassheaded nails, looked invitingly comfortable. One had its back to Chris and the door, and the other was empty. Both were drawn close to the snapping logs. A grandfather clock stood in the corner between the fireplace and the first window, and gave out a steady deep tock. The carpet was a soft Indian rug of fine texture and many colors, red, blue, and gold predominating. Most surprisingly, a steep spiral staircase of polished wood came down into the room in the right-hand corner near where Chris stood, and Chris wondered for a moment, if Mr. Wicker's voice had come from the top of the stair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Good morning, my boy,", "start_byte": 53681, "end_byte": 53703, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 257.01500488281255, "cut_end_time": 259.1100048828125, "narration": {"text": "Chris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.", "cut_start_time": 135.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 144.58000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Turning back, he saw that a desk, opposite him, stood between the two windows that faced the garden. It seemed very old-fashioned, to Chris -- no neat folded writing paper, but large bold sheets covered in Mr. Wicker's delicate handwriting lay on the open top, with several goose-quill pens standing at the back in a penholder. Chris noticed prints of sailing ships on the walls, and candlesticks holding candles and candle snuffers on the desk, table, and mantelpiece. A closed cupboard with carved doors stood at the far end of the room.\n\nOnce again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Good morning, my boy,\"<|quote_end|> said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"I trust you slept well?\"", "start_byte": 53723, "end_byte": 53748, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 260.234990234375, "cut_end_time": 262.42011523437503, "narration": {"text": "Chris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.", "cut_start_time": 135.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 144.58000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. <|quote_start|>\"I trust you slept well?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Oh yes, thank you sir,", "start_byte": 53804, "end_byte": 53827, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 266.10499145507816, "cut_end_time": 267.71011645507815, "narration": {"text": "Chris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.", "cut_start_time": 135.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 144.58000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. <|quote_start|>\"Oh yes, thank you sir,\"<|quote_end|> he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"", "start_byte": 53841, "end_byte": 53878, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 269.00500610351565, "cut_end_time": 270.55000610351567, "narration": {"text": "Chris whipped about at the sound of the antiquarian's voice but for a moment longer he could not see him, and looked toward the other end of the room with interest.", "cut_start_time": 135.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 144.58000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. <|quote_start|>\"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"\n\n[Illustration]", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"And breakfast?", "start_byte": 53955, "end_byte": 53970, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 274.274990234375, "cut_end_time": 275.90005273437504, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And breakfast?\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Becky fed you?\"", "start_byte": 53990, "end_byte": 54006, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 277.3549987792969, "cut_end_time": 279.3100612792969, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. <|quote_start|>\"Becky fed you?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"", "start_byte": 54008, "end_byte": 54051, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 279.7449987792969, "cut_end_time": 283.0401237792969, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "Once again Chris turned back to look for Mr. Wicker, and to his astonishment, now saw him in the chair that he had thought empty a moment before. Mr. Wicker, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingertips touched lightly together, was watching Chris with interest and amusement. When the boy caught sight of him, Mr. Wicker nodded, smiling, and motioned Chris toward the other leather chair across from him.\n\n\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Indeed?", "start_byte": 54053, "end_byte": 54061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.57500610351565, "cut_end_time": 285.1000061035156, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Good morning, my boy,\" said the old man. \"I trust you slept well?\"\n\nChris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Indeed?\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. \"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"", "start_byte": 54138, "end_byte": 54225, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 290.47501098632813, "cut_end_time": 299.20007348632817, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Chris slowly let himself down into the offered chair. \"Oh yes, thank you sir,\" he replied. \"I don't even know how I got to bed.\"\n\nMr. Wicker made a sound that seemed to indicate that that did not matter.\n\n\"And breakfast?\" Mr. Wicker asked. \"Becky fed you?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. And Mr. Cilley -- he fed me too.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes. <|quote_start|>\"Ned Cilley so early? Well, he is a loyal soul, is Cilley. You shall know more of him.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Feel? Well -- all right, I guess, in a way. But there's a sort of spinning in my head and my stomach if I try to figure any of this out. I just don't get it.", "start_byte": 55121, "end_byte": 55279, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 347.865009765625, "cut_end_time": 360.92007226562504, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "He fell silent, observing the boy sitting on the edge of the big chair. Mr. Wicker looked, as if casually, at the clothes Chris now wore and which fitted him as though made to his measure. What he saw seemed to please the old man for he nodded his bald head and his wrinkles multiplied themselves across his face in a way Chris took to be his smile. At last he spoke again, and his voice was strangely gentle and kind. So kind that the forlornness Chris had momentarily forgotten at the mystery of his position, the puzzlement and lost feeling that reclaimed him instantly should he allow himself to wonder at how he could get back again into his own life and time, was reawakened by the something he heard in Mr. Wicker's voice. The tears gathered in his throat and he had to swallow and cough several times before he could reply with any degree of clearness.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Feel? Well -- all right, I guess, in a way. But there's a sort of spinning in my head and my stomach if I try to figure any of this out. I just don't get it.\"<|quote_end|> He shook his head dubiously. \"I feel alive all right, and the food tasted good just now, but how in the world can all the changes come about, or be? And there's something I should see to, at home -- \" All at once he needed desperately to know how his mother was, that morning. He stood up abruptly.\n\n\"If I can just go now, please?\" Chris asked politely but firmly. \"It's been very interesting, but I -- \"\n\nHis throat tightened up again and he made a helpless gesture with his hand, and looking toward the window, wondered if he could jump out into the flower beds and be off. Mr. Wicker's voice, soft but with such authority that one did not question it, came again, and it had a healing in its sound.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "politely": {"id": "2", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "firmly": {"id": "2", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"If I can just go now, please?", "start_byte": 55581, "end_byte": 55611, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 379.4549987792969, "cut_end_time": 382.3001237792969, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker's eyebrows went up in an inverted V above his bright dark eyes.", "cut_start_time": 285.69499511718755, "cut_end_time": 290.35012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Feel? Well -- all right, I guess, in a way. But there's a sort of spinning in my head and my stomach if I try to figure any of this out. I just don't get it.\" He shook his head dubiously. \"I feel alive all right, and the food tasted good just now, but how in the world can all the changes come about, or be? And there's something I should see to, at home -- \" All at once he needed desperately to know how his mother was, that morning. He stood up abruptly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"If I can just go now, please?\"<|quote_end|> Chris asked politely but firmly. \"It's been very interesting, but I -- \"\n\nHis throat tightened up again and he made a helpless gesture with his hand, and looking toward the window, wondered if he could jump out into the flower beds and be off. Mr. Wicker's voice, soft but with such authority that one did not question it, came again, and it had a healing in its sound.\n\n\"Sit down, Christopher my lad,\" he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "politely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "firmly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Sit down, Christopher my lad,", "start_byte": 55984, "end_byte": 56014, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 400.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 404.24000122070316, "narration": {"text": " he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager.", "cut_start_time": 404.5749987792969, "cut_end_time": 407.7200612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" He shook his head dubiously. \"I feel alive all right, and the food tasted good just now, but how in the world can all the changes come about, or be? And there's something I should see to, at home -- \" All at once he needed desperately to know how his mother was, that morning. He stood up abruptly.\n\n\"If I can just go now, please?\" Chris asked politely but firmly. \"It's been very interesting, but I -- \"\n\nHis throat tightened up again and he made a helpless gesture with his hand, and looking toward the window, wondered if he could jump out into the flower beds and be off. Mr. Wicker's voice, soft but with such authority that one did not question it, came again, and it had a healing in its sound.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Sit down, Christopher my lad,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager. \"We have much to talk of, you and I. But first, your mind and heart shall be put at ease. Do you know who I am?\"\n\nRestive and anxious to be off, Chris nevertheless found it necessary to reply.\n\n\"You sell old stuff. That's all I know,\" he answered, beginning to feel a trifle surly.\n\nMr. Wicker nodded, tapping his fingertips together. \"Yes,\" he agreed,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"We have much to talk of, you and I. But first, your mind and heart shall be put at ease. Do you know who I am?\"", "start_byte": 56067, "end_byte": 56179, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 408.3349987792969, "cut_end_time": 419.7100612792969, "narration": {"text": "Restive and anxious to be off, Chris nevertheless found it necessary to reply.", "cut_start_time": 420.305, "cut_end_time": 424.6200625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris asked politely but firmly. \"It's been very interesting, but I -- \"\n\nHis throat tightened up again and he made a helpless gesture with his hand, and looking toward the window, wondered if he could jump out into the flower beds and be off. Mr. Wicker's voice, soft but with such authority that one did not question it, came again, and it had a healing in its sound.\n\n\"Sit down, Christopher my lad,\" he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager. <|quote_start|>\"We have much to talk of, you and I. But first, your mind and heart shall be put at ease. Do you know who I am?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nRestive and anxious to be off, Chris nevertheless found it necessary to reply.\n\n\"You sell old stuff. That's all I know,\" he answered, beginning to feel a trifle surly.\n\nMr. Wicker nodded, tapping his fingertips together. \"Yes,\" he agreed, \"I sell old things -- in your time. But now -- in this time, what do you know of me?\"\n\nAs he spoke there was a change of tone, as if a younger man was speaking, and in spite of his impatience to get home, Chris looked up sharply. Mr. Wicker was leaning forward, and Chris felt himself immovable under the vigor of those dark eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"You sell old stuff. That's all I know,", "start_byte": 56261, "end_byte": 56300, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 425.1350048828125, "cut_end_time": 427.8100673828125, "narration": {"text": " he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.", "cut_start_time": 464.9449975585938, "cut_end_time": 469.6500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "His throat tightened up again and he made a helpless gesture with his hand, and looking toward the window, wondered if he could jump out into the flower beds and be off. Mr. Wicker's voice, soft but with such authority that one did not question it, came again, and it had a healing in its sound.\n\n\"Sit down, Christopher my lad,\" he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager. \"We have much to talk of, you and I. But first, your mind and heart shall be put at ease. Do you know who I am?\"\n\nRestive and anxious to be off, Chris nevertheless found it necessary to reply.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You sell old stuff. That's all I know,\"<|quote_end|> he answered, beginning to feel a trifle surly.\n\nMr. Wicker nodded, tapping his fingertips together. \"Yes,\" he agreed, \"I sell old things -- in your time. But now -- in this time, what do you know of me?\"\n\nAs he spoke there was a change of tone, as if a younger man was speaking, and in spite of his impatience to get home, Chris looked up sharply. Mr. Wicker was leaning forward, and Chris felt himself immovable under the vigor of those dark eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"I sell old things -- in your time. But now -- in this time, what do you know of me?\"", "start_byte": 56420, "end_byte": 56505, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.31499023437505, "cut_end_time": 449.41011523437504, "narration": {"text": " he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.", "cut_start_time": 464.9449975585938, "cut_end_time": 469.6500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\" he said, and his eyes were kind, intent and eager. \"We have much to talk of, you and I. But first, your mind and heart shall be put at ease. Do you know who I am?\"\n\nRestive and anxious to be off, Chris nevertheless found it necessary to reply.\n\n\"You sell old stuff. That's all I know,\" he answered, beginning to feel a trifle surly.\n\nMr. Wicker nodded, tapping his fingertips together. \"Yes,\" he agreed, <|quote_start|>\"I sell old things -- in your time. But now -- in this time, what do you know of me?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAs he spoke there was a change of tone, as if a younger man was speaking, and in spite of his impatience to get home, Chris looked up sharply. Mr. Wicker was leaning forward, and Chris felt himself immovable under the vigor of those dark eyes.\n\n\"Nothing, sir,\" he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.\n\n\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\" Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word,", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,", "start_byte": 56848, "end_byte": 56894, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 470.18498657226564, "cut_end_time": 473.67004907226567, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"I sell old things -- in your time. But now -- in this time, what do you know of me?\"\n\nAs he spoke there was a change of tone, as if a younger man was speaking, and in spite of his impatience to get home, Chris looked up sharply. Mr. Wicker was leaning forward, and Chris felt himself immovable under the vigor of those dark eyes.\n\n\"Nothing, sir,\" he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word, \"I am also quite a fine magician,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"drawn": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"I am also quite a fine magician,", "start_byte": 57057, "end_byte": 57090, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 487.4249987792969, "cut_end_time": 491.2001237792969, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "As he spoke there was a change of tone, as if a younger man was speaking, and in spite of his impatience to get home, Chris looked up sharply. Mr. Wicker was leaning forward, and Chris felt himself immovable under the vigor of those dark eyes.\n\n\"Nothing, sir,\" he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.\n\n\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\" Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word, <|quote_start|>\"I am also quite a fine magician,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n\"Watch closely then", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Rabbits out of hats?", "start_byte": 57156, "end_byte": 57177, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 496.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 497.630115234375, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"Nothing, sir,\" he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.\n\n\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\" Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word, \"I am also quite a fine magician,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. <|quote_start|>\"Rabbits out of hats?\"<|quote_end|> he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n\"Watch closely then,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. \"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"inquired": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"No, young man,", "start_byte": 57193, "end_byte": 57208, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 499.68498535156255, "cut_end_time": 500.9501103515625, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"Nothing, sir,\" he heard himself saying, not taking his eyes from those of the man before him.\n\n\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\" Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word, \"I am also quite a fine magician,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, young man,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n\"Watch closely then,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. \"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"", "start_byte": 57257, "end_byte": 57366, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 504.2750036621094, "cut_end_time": 512.9600036621094, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"I am a shipowner, Christopher, for one thing,\" Mr. Wicker drew a slow breath. \"A merchant trading in tobacco, cotton, corn, and flour. But I am also -- \" he paused as if to give Chris time to hear each word, \"I am also quite a fine magician,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, <|quote_start|>\"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n\"Watch closely then,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. \"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"\n\nChris leaned forward in his chair. The room was well lit from three sides; sunlight and firelight mingled to wash Mr. Wicker in their joined apricot glow. Added to this, the two chairs -- Chris's and Mr. Wicker's -- were not more than four feet apart. Chris hunched forward yet a little more to lessen this space and watch for any movement, however swift. He had seen magicians before, he told himself.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "no": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "show": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Watch closely then,", "start_byte": 57489, "end_byte": 57509, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 522.2950170898438, "cut_end_time": 523.8400170898437, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"I am also quite a fine magician,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Watch closely then,\"<|quote_end|> commanded Mr. Wicker. \"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"\n\nChris leaned forward in his chair. The room was well lit from three sides; sunlight and firelight mingled to wash Mr. Wicker in their joined apricot glow. Added to this, the two chairs -- Chris's and Mr. Wicker's -- were not more than four feet apart. Chris hunched forward yet a little more to lessen this space and watch for any movement, however swift. He had seen magicians before, he told himself.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"", "start_byte": 57533, "end_byte": 57740, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 525.4849853515625, "cut_end_time": 537.7401103515625, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Chris leaned back, disappointed and scornful. \"Rabbits out of hats?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No, young man,\" Mr. Wicker answered with no show of annoyance, \"Not rabbits out of hats. That -- as you would say -- is for toddlers. Suppose I prove to you just how good?\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.\n\n\"Watch closely then,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"I have been in my twentieth-century shape so that you would recognize me. Now I shall regain my appearance of this time -- not a great change, I grant you, but there will be a difference. Watch me closely.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris leaned forward in his chair. The room was well lit from three sides; sunlight and firelight mingled to wash Mr. Wicker in their joined apricot glow. Added to this, the two chairs -- Chris's and Mr. Wicker's -- were not more than four feet apart. Chris hunched forward yet a little more to lessen this space and watch for any movement, however swift. He had seen magicians before, he told himself.\n\nBut what he saw was so amazing that Chris's lips parted in astonishment and his eyes stared unblinkingly. For the tiny figure of the old man before him, wizened with age and wrinkled past belief, before his eyes shook off not ten or twenty years, but one hundred and fifty! It left him, while not a young man, middle-aged; a vigorous man of forty years. The face was smoothed out and firm; thick chestnut hair was caught back with a black ribbon bow. Dark eyebrows were level above the steady eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I don't believe it!", "start_byte": 58646, "end_byte": 58666, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 597.5649975585937, "cut_end_time": 600.0701225585938, "narration": {"text": " said Chris, whose only thought was still to get home but who admitted to himself a faint stir of curiosity.", "cut_start_time": 514.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 521.8000771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "But what he saw was so amazing that Chris's lips parted in astonishment and his eyes stared unblinkingly. For the tiny figure of the old man before him, wizened with age and wrinkled past belief, before his eyes shook off not ten or twenty years, but one hundred and fifty! It left him, while not a young man, middle-aged; a vigorous man of forty years. The face was smoothed out and firm; thick chestnut hair was caught back with a black ribbon bow. Dark eyebrows were level above the steady eyes.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I don't believe it!\"<|quote_end|> Chris breathed. \"You looked almost like a mummy, before. And now -- \"\n\nMr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n\"Fascinating, is it not?\" he remarked, with a sardonic smile. \"A good trick, do you not agree?\"\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. \"Well yes,\" he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"breathed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Fascinating, is it not?", "start_byte": 58836, "end_byte": 58860, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 613.2349829101563, "cut_end_time": 615.1700454101563, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.", "cut_start_time": 606.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 612.2000576171876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "But what he saw was so amazing that Chris's lips parted in astonishment and his eyes stared unblinkingly. For the tiny figure of the old man before him, wizened with age and wrinkled past belief, before his eyes shook off not ten or twenty years, but one hundred and fifty! It left him, while not a young man, middle-aged; a vigorous man of forty years. The face was smoothed out and firm; thick chestnut hair was caught back with a black ribbon bow. Dark eyebrows were level above the steady eyes.\n\n\"I don't believe it!\" Chris breathed. \"You looked almost like a mummy, before. And now -- \"\n\nMr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Fascinating, is it not?\"<|quote_end|> he remarked, with a sardonic smile. \"A good trick, do you not agree?\"\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. \"Well yes,\" he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. \"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"A good trick, do you not agree?\"", "start_byte": 58898, "end_byte": 58931, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 617.3850073242188, "cut_end_time": 619.4900698242187, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.", "cut_start_time": 606.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 612.2000576171876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "But what he saw was so amazing that Chris's lips parted in astonishment and his eyes stared unblinkingly. For the tiny figure of the old man before him, wizened with age and wrinkled past belief, before his eyes shook off not ten or twenty years, but one hundred and fifty! It left him, while not a young man, middle-aged; a vigorous man of forty years. The face was smoothed out and firm; thick chestnut hair was caught back with a black ribbon bow. Dark eyebrows were level above the steady eyes.\n\n\"I don't believe it!\" Chris breathed. \"You looked almost like a mummy, before. And now -- \"\n\nMr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n\"Fascinating, is it not?\" he remarked, with a sardonic smile. <|quote_start|>\"A good trick, do you not agree?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. \"Well yes,\" he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. \"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Well yes,", "start_byte": 58989, "end_byte": 58999, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 623.8550268554687, "cut_end_time": 625.4200268554688, "narration": {"text": " he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"", "cut_start_time": 626.2149877929688, "cut_end_time": 631.2100502929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "But what he saw was so amazing that Chris's lips parted in astonishment and his eyes stared unblinkingly. For the tiny figure of the old man before him, wizened with age and wrinkled past belief, before his eyes shook off not ten or twenty years, but one hundred and fifty! It left him, while not a young man, middle-aged; a vigorous man of forty years. The face was smoothed out and firm; thick chestnut hair was caught back with a black ribbon bow. Dark eyebrows were level above the steady eyes.\n\n\"I don't believe it!\" Chris breathed. \"You looked almost like a mummy, before. And now -- \"\n\nMr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n\"Fascinating, is it not?\" he remarked, with a sardonic smile. \"A good trick, do you not agree?\"\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. <|quote_start|>\"Well yes,\"<|quote_end|> he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. \"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.", "narrative_information_pred": {"admitted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Ah,", "start_byte": 59058, "end_byte": 59062, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.2349731445313, "cut_end_time": 633.8600981445313, "narration": {"text": " he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"", "cut_start_time": 626.2149877929688, "cut_end_time": 631.2100502929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris breathed. \"You looked almost like a mummy, before. And now -- \"\n\nMr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n\"Fascinating, is it not?\" he remarked, with a sardonic smile. \"A good trick, do you not agree?\"\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. \"Well yes,\" he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. \"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.", "start_byte": 59129, "end_byte": 59184, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 638.1750170898438, "cut_end_time": 641.9700795898437, "narration": {"text": " said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too.", "cut_start_time": 633.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 637.7100722656251, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker rose from his chair, and now he stood six feet, no longer wizened, no longer feeble.\n\n\"Fascinating, is it not?\" he remarked, with a sardonic smile. \"A good trick, do you not agree?\"\n\nChris sat looking at him, amazed but still incredulous. \"Well yes,\" he admitted, \"but maybe with make-up, or something -- \"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. <|quote_start|>\"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\"<|quote_end|> And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.\n\n\"You're not here,\" he said aloud.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am,\" said Mr. Wicker's voice.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"You're not here,", "start_byte": 59566, "end_byte": 59583, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 667.2050048828125, "cut_end_time": 668.2100048828125, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\" said Mr. Wicker, and his voice was deeper and more vigorous too. \"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You're not here,\"<|quote_end|> he said aloud.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am,\" said Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Look on the table.\"\n\nChris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Oh, yes, I am,", "start_byte": 59601, "end_byte": 59616, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 669.6049853515625, "cut_end_time": 671.4401103515626, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\"Ah. Then we shall try another. See if you can find me.\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.\n\n\"You're not here,\" he said aloud.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh, yes, I am,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Look on the table.\"\n\nChris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Look on the table.\"", "start_byte": 59643, "end_byte": 59663, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 673.55501953125, "cut_end_time": 674.9500820312501, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\" And before Chris's eyes Mr. Wicker vanished into thin air.\n\nChris looked about and got up. He looked under the chairs, under the table, behind the curtains, up the chimney, up the spiral staircase, out the windows -- in short, everywhere and anywhere a man might hide, and in a great many places where it was impossible for him to be. Finally he stood in the middle of the room.\n\n\"You're not here,\" he said aloud.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am,\" said Mr. Wicker's voice. <|quote_start|>\"Look on the table.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"It's not fair!", "start_byte": 60014, "end_byte": 60029, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 697.3050073242188, "cut_end_time": 698.4500073242187, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh, yes, I am,\" said Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Look on the table.\"\n\nChris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It's not fair!\"<|quote_end|> Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" came the voice. \"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.", "narrative_information_pred": {"challenged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"", "start_byte": 60055, "end_byte": 60114, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 700.095, "cut_end_time": 703.4100625, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\" said Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Look on the table.\"\n\nChris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. <|quote_start|>\"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes I am,\" came the voice. \"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "narrative_information_pred": {"challenged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"Yes I am,", "start_byte": 60116, "end_byte": 60126, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 704.2150268554688, "cut_end_time": 705.6200893554687, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes I am,\"<|quote_end|> came the voice. \"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,", "start_byte": 60144, "end_byte": 60189, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 707.0650268554688, "cut_end_time": 709.7700893554688, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" came the voice. <|quote_start|>\"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"", "start_byte": 60212, "end_byte": 60280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 711.7950146484375, "cut_end_time": 715.7100771484376, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" came the voice. \"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker told him. <|quote_start|>\"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.\n\n\"Darn that ol' fly!\" Chris muttered, and made a grab at it. The bluebottle buzzed towards the window, swirled about, hit Chris on the nose again with remarkable stupidity, and blundered off once more towards the window.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"", "start_byte": 60362, "end_byte": 60431, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 720.5850244140626, "cut_end_time": 723.7500244140625, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked on the table. A bowl of flowers stood in the center. A small silver tray with a finely blown glass and a round-bellied silver pitcher of water stood at one side. A few leather-bound books were all else to be seen, except -- if one could count that -- a bluebottle fly that buzzed, lit on the flowers, and buzzed again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It's not fair!\" Chris challenged aloud. \"You've got some trick hiding place. You're just not here.\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" came the voice. \"I am within reach of your hand, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.\n\n\"Darn that ol' fly!\" Chris muttered, and made a grab at it. The bluebottle buzzed towards the window, swirled about, hit Chris on the nose again with remarkable stupidity, and blundered off once more towards the window.\n\nChris ran after it, saw it on a pane of glass, swooped down, and felt the angry wings and heard the enraged buzz in his cupped hand. But before he could either squeeze the fly or open his hand to let it free, Mr. Wicker stood before him, and Chris found himself holding on to the tail of Mr. Wicker's coat.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"Darn that ol' fly!", "start_byte": 60620, "end_byte": 60639, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 736.1049829101563, "cut_end_time": 737.2700454101563, "narration": {"text": "The bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.", "cut_start_time": 728.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 735.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker told him. \"And I will reappear in whatever part of the room you wish. Choose.\"\n\nChris looked around him, and then pointed to the end window.\n\n\"There,\" he said, \"by the window. There's nothing anywhere around it. Come back there.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" sounded Mr. Wicker's deep new voice.\n\nThe bluebottle fly buzzed upward from the table, flew directly at Chris's nose, hit it, flew around his head, and bumped into his ear.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Darn that ol' fly!\"<|quote_end|> Chris muttered, and made a grab at it. The bluebottle buzzed towards the window, swirled about, hit Chris on the nose again with remarkable stupidity, and blundered off once more towards the window.\n\nChris ran after it, saw it on a pane of glass, swooped down, and felt the angry wings and heard the enraged buzz in his cupped hand. But before he could either squeeze the fly or open his hand to let it free, Mr. Wicker stood before him, and Chris found himself holding on to the tail of Mr. Wicker's coat.", "narrative_information_pred": {"muttered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_06_dawson_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 43}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..76f3ce878da8b2572d8c826af4360b68763b362b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"", "start_byte": 61991, "end_byte": 62065, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 80.77500335693358, "cut_end_time": 84.42006585693359, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire.", "cut_start_time": 87.7549966430664, "cut_end_time": 92.3400591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, that cannot be for a time,\" Mr. Wicker replied, \"for you have important work to do.\"\n\nMr. Wicker turned and walked back to the two leather chairs with his hand still on Chris's shoulder. He stopped near the table and looked down.\n\n\"I know that all this -- \" he waved a hand to take in not only the room but, Chris thought, the different time as well, \" -- all this seems impossible to understand.\" He paused, pondering. <|quote_start|>\"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Let me put it this way,\" Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire. \"You have a television set at home?\"\n\n\"Oh yes!\" Chris agreed enthusiastically, \"And say! Some of the programs -- \"\n\n\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,\" Mr. Wicker broke in. \"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.", "narrative_information_pred": {"paused": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "pondering": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Let me put it this way,", "start_byte": 62067, "end_byte": 62091, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 85.61500061035156, "cut_end_time": 87.57000061035156, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire.", "cut_start_time": 87.7549966430664, "cut_end_time": 92.3400591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, that cannot be for a time,\" Mr. Wicker replied, \"for you have important work to do.\"\n\nMr. Wicker turned and walked back to the two leather chairs with his hand still on Chris's shoulder. He stopped near the table and looked down.\n\n\"I know that all this -- \" he waved a hand to take in not only the room but, Chris thought, the different time as well, \" -- all this seems impossible to understand.\" He paused, pondering. \"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let me put it this way,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire. \"You have a television set at home?\"\n\n\"Oh yes!\" Chris agreed enthusiastically, \"And say! Some of the programs -- \"\n\n\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,\" Mr. Wicker broke in. \"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"You have a television set at home?\"", "start_byte": 62175, "end_byte": 62211, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 92.53499786376952, "cut_end_time": 94.27006036376953, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire.", "cut_start_time": 87.7549966430664, "cut_end_time": 92.3400591430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker turned and walked back to the two leather chairs with his hand still on Chris's shoulder. He stopped near the table and looked down.\n\n\"I know that all this -- \" he waved a hand to take in not only the room but, Chris thought, the different time as well, \" -- all this seems impossible to understand.\" He paused, pondering. \"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"\n\n\"Let me put it this way,\" Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire. <|quote_start|>\"You have a television set at home?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Oh yes!\" Chris agreed enthusiastically, \"And say! Some of the programs -- \"\n\n\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,\" Mr. Wicker broke in. \"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,", "start_byte": 62291, "end_byte": 62323, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 100.0450030517578, "cut_end_time": 102.3100655517578, "narration": {"text": "Chris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.", "cut_start_time": 109.345, "cut_end_time": 115.07, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"I know that all this -- \" he waved a hand to take in not only the room but, Chris thought, the different time as well, \" -- all this seems impossible to understand.\" He paused, pondering. \"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"\n\n\"Let me put it this way,\" Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire. \"You have a television set at home?\"\n\n\"Oh yes!\" Chris agreed enthusiastically, \"And say! Some of the programs -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker broke in. \"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether. \"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"", "start_byte": 62346, "end_byte": 62403, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 104.0950030517578, "cut_end_time": 108.52000305175781, "narration": {"text": "Chris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.", "cut_start_time": 109.345, "cut_end_time": 115.07, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"I know that all this -- \" he waved a hand to take in not only the room but, Chris thought, the different time as well, \" -- all this seems impossible to understand.\" He paused, pondering. \"Perhaps we had better sit down and I will try to make it understandable.\"\n\n\"Let me put it this way,\" Mr. Wicker began when they were seated once more in their chairs before the fire. \"You have a television set at home?\"\n\n\"Oh yes!\" Chris agreed enthusiastically, \"And say! Some of the programs -- \"\n\n\"Yes, they are splendid, I know,\" Mr. Wicker broke in. <|quote_start|>\"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether. \"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker,\" he ended lamely, \"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker,", "start_byte": 62749, "end_byte": 62779, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 131.43500244140625, "cut_end_time": 133.64000244140624, "narration": {"text": "Chris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.", "cut_start_time": 109.345, "cut_end_time": 115.07, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker broke in. \"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether. <|quote_start|>\"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker,\"<|quote_end|> he ended lamely, \"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled, a wide engaging smile showing strong white teeth.\n\n\"It is,\" he agreed warmly, his eyes twinkling, \"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"\n\nChris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.", "narrative_information_pred": {"ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "lamely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"", "start_byte": 62798, "end_byte": 62845, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 135.06500671386718, "cut_end_time": 138.0200067138672, "narration": {"text": "Chris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.", "cut_start_time": 109.345, "cut_end_time": 115.07, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"But will you please explain to me how television works?\"\n\nChris stared at his questioner for a moment and then settled back in his chair, his forehead puckered with concentration.\n\n\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether. \"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker,\" he ended lamely, <|quote_start|>\"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker smiled, a wide engaging smile showing strong white teeth.\n\n\"It is,\" he agreed warmly, his eyes twinkling, \"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"\n\nChris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.\n\n\"No, sir, I guess not. We're just glad to be able to use them, I expect.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "lamely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"", "start_byte": 62964, "end_byte": 63134, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 147.0149981689453, "cut_end_time": 157.4001231689453, "narration": {"text": "Chris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.", "cut_start_time": 158.25499633789062, "cut_end_time": 164.3700588378906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, gee -- \" He stopped. \"Well,\" he began again, \"I think it has to do with light rays passing through a -- well, hm-mm, there's an electric impulse, see -- I guess it's that that sends out -- \" He stopped altogether. \"Well golly Moses, Mr. Wicker,\" he ended lamely, \"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled, a wide engaging smile showing strong white teeth.\n\n\"It is,\" he agreed warmly, his eyes twinkling, <|quote_start|>\"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.\n\n\"No, sir, I guess not. We're just glad to be able to use them, I expect.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Mr. Wicker in a tone of immense satisfaction, \"Quite so. You are just glad to be able to use and enjoy them. Well, then, my boy, the things I have just shown you, and what I am about to show you now, are parts of knowledge which are yet to be discovered and learned, in a time beyond your own. And the ability to move within Time -- within Time", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "warmly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"No, sir, I guess not. We're just glad to be able to use them, I expect.\"", "start_byte": 63269, "end_byte": 63342, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 165.0149932861328, "cut_end_time": 170.0801182861328, "narration": {"text": "Chris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.", "cut_start_time": 158.25499633789062, "cut_end_time": 164.3700588378906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"it seems to be pretty complicated to go into.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled, a wide engaging smile showing strong white teeth.\n\n\"It is,\" he agreed warmly, his eyes twinkling, \"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"\n\nChris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, sir, I guess not. We're just glad to be able to use them, I expect.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Ah!\" said Mr. Wicker in a tone of immense satisfaction, \"Quite so. You are just glad to be able to use and enjoy them. Well, then, my boy, the things I have just shown you, and what I am about to show you now, are parts of knowledge which are yet to be discovered and learned, in a time beyond your own. And the ability to move within Time -- within Time,\" Mr. Wicker stressed, leaning forward toward Chris, \"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Ah!", "start_byte": 63344, "end_byte": 63348, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 170.6150061035156, "cut_end_time": 172.10000610351562, "narration": {"text": "Chris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.", "cut_start_time": 158.25499633789062, "cut_end_time": 164.3700588378906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"It is,\" he agreed warmly, his eyes twinkling, \"Is it not? Very complicated. You probably would not be able to describe to me the details of how the radio or long-distance telephone work either, would you, young man?\"\n\nChris had to grin back when he saw that Mr. Wicker was not laughing at him, but rather at the complexity of such mechanical things.\n\n\"No, sir, I guess not. We're just glad to be able to use them, I expect.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah!\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker in a tone of immense satisfaction, \"Quite so. You are just glad to be able to use and enjoy them. Well, then, my boy, the things I have just shown you, and what I am about to show you now, are parts of knowledge which are yet to be discovered and learned, in a time beyond your own. And the ability to move within Time -- within Time,\" Mr. Wicker stressed, leaning forward toward Chris, \"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"", "start_byte": 63753, "end_byte": 63836, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 204.1450067138672, "cut_end_time": 210.9600067138672, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker put out a lean strong hand and tapped Chris's knee.", "cut_start_time": 212.19499450683594, "cut_end_time": 216.40005700683594, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Ah!\" said Mr. Wicker in a tone of immense satisfaction, \"Quite so. You are just glad to be able to use and enjoy them. Well, then, my boy, the things I have just shown you, and what I am about to show you now, are parts of knowledge which are yet to be discovered and learned, in a time beyond your own. And the ability to move within Time -- within Time,\" Mr. Wicker stressed, leaning forward toward Chris, <|quote_start|>\"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker put out a lean strong hand and tapped Chris's knee.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stressed": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course", "start_byte": 63918, "end_byte": 64107, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 216.97499755859374, "cut_end_time": 229.50006005859373, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Quite so. You are just glad to be able to use and enjoy them. Well, then, my boy, the things I have just shown you, and what I am about to show you now, are parts of knowledge which are yet to be discovered and learned, in a time beyond your own. And the ability to move within Time -- within Time,\" Mr. Wicker stressed, leaning forward toward Chris, \"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"\n\nMr. Wicker put out a lean strong hand and tapped Chris's knee.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\"<|quote_end|> -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris. \"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\" he asked.\n\n\"I think so, sir,\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.", "start_byte": 64135, "end_byte": 64242, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 231.08500488281248, "cut_end_time": 237.8400673828125, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker stressed, leaning forward toward Chris, \"that faculty is also still in the future. In the meantime it remains a rare gift.\"\n\nMr. Wicker put out a lean strong hand and tapped Chris's knee.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- <|quote_start|>\"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\"<|quote_end|> He looked searchingly at Chris. \"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\" he asked.\n\n\"I think so, sir,\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "searchingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?", "start_byte": 64276, "end_byte": 64331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 240.71500061035155, "cut_end_time": 243.05000061035156, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker put out a lean strong hand and tapped Chris's knee.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris. <|quote_start|>\"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\n\"I think so, sir,\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"I think so, sir,", "start_byte": 64344, "end_byte": 64361, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 244.18500183105468, "cut_end_time": 246.16006433105468, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "[Illustration]\n\n\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris. \"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\" he asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I think so, sir,\"<|quote_end|> Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,", "start_byte": 64387, "end_byte": 64432, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 248.2149932861328, "cut_end_time": 251.8200557861328, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris. \"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\" he asked.\n\n\"I think so, sir,\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance.", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,", "start_byte": 64456, "end_byte": 64711, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 253.59500244140625, "cut_end_time": 270.4200649414062, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"You have it, Christopher. You were born with the ability to move backward into time that has passed. Whether or not you will ever master the gift of moving into the future, that, of course\" -- Mr. Wicker shrugged -- \"is impossible to tell. You may. But for my purposes, that you have been able to return this far is enough.\" He looked searchingly at Chris. \"Have you understood what I have been saying up to now?\" he asked.\n\n\"I think so, sir,\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, <|quote_start|>\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\"<|quote_end|> mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table,", "narrative_information_pred": {"mused": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Yes, it will be.", "start_byte": 64795, "end_byte": 64812, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 276.065, "cut_end_time": 277.53006250000004, "narration": {"text": " mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger.", "cut_start_time": 271.2450134277344, "cut_end_time": 275.6500134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris answered slowly.\n\n\"This ability to move back and forth in Time,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. <|quote_start|>\"Yes, it will be.\"<|quote_end|> He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"", "start_byte": 64879, "end_byte": 64937, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 282.10498779296876, "cut_end_time": 286.3401127929688, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "cut_start_time": 320.5950036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.5400661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. <|quote_start|>\"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"mused": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"It certainly does!", "start_byte": 64939, "end_byte": 64958, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 287.09500976562504, "cut_end_time": 288.310009765625, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "cut_start_time": 320.5950036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.5400661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It certainly does!\"<|quote_end|> Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "fervor": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"", "start_byte": 64987, "end_byte": 65041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 290.494990234375, "cut_end_time": 292.710115234375, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "cut_start_time": 320.5950036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.5400661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. <|quote_start|>\"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nMr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "fervor": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"and I would not blame you. But now,", "start_byte": 65068, "end_byte": 65104, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.1850134277344, "cut_end_time": 299.3000759277344, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "cut_start_time": 320.5950036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.5400661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"is no more farfetched than the ability to send colored images and sound across the land into your own house, where you can see and hear them. It is something which, so far, and I mean, of course, in your time, has not yet been discovered. But it will be,\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"and I would not blame you. But now,\"<|quote_end|> he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nMr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.\n\n\"They say too,\" Mr. Wicker said scornfully,", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.", "start_byte": 65157, "end_byte": 65216, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 302.3549951171875, "cut_end_time": 305.98012011718754, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.", "cut_start_time": 320.5950036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.5400661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\" mused Mr. Wicker thoughtfully, pulling at his underlip with thumb and forefinger. \"Yes, it will be.\" He looked across at Chris as if returning from a great distance. \"But until it has been it appears fantastic, does it not?\"\n\n\"It certainly does!\" Chris replied with fervor. \"If it weren't happening to me I wouldn't believe it!\"\n\n\"No,\" nodded Mr. Wicker, \"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, <|quote_start|>\"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\"<|quote_end|> He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nMr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.\n\n\"They say too,\" Mr. Wicker said scornfully, \"that crystal balls are the things to look into. Perfect tommyrot. This will do equally well. Look and see.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"They say too,", "start_byte": 65499, "end_byte": 65513, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 325.66500366210937, "cut_end_time": 326.9000036621094, "narration": {"text": " his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.", "cut_start_time": 392.4749987792969, "cut_end_time": 396.80006127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"and I would not blame you. But now,\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nMr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"They say too,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said scornfully, \"that crystal balls are the things to look into. Perfect tommyrot. This will do equally well. Look and see.\"\n\nChris bent to peer at the polished silver side of the pitcher. At first, it shone as no doubt it always did from Becky Boozer's powerful rubbing. Then, as he watched, the rounded side of the pitcher misted over, as if it had been filled with ice water. Next, the center of the misted portion cleared away, and as it cleared a picture formed, welling up into his sight as if from within the pitcher through the silver of its sides.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "scornfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"that crystal balls are the things to look into. Perfect tommyrot. This will do equally well. Look and see.\"", "start_byte": 65543, "end_byte": 65651, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 328.5849975585938, "cut_end_time": 337.5900600585938, "narration": {"text": " his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.", "cut_start_time": 392.4749987792969, "cut_end_time": 396.80006127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\" he announced, rising and turning toward the table, \"you must have your mind set at rest regarding your mother.\" He motioned for Chris to join him. \"You will need to know only once and they say -- \" he smiled down at the boy beside him \" -- they say that seeing is believing, so you shall see for yourself.\"\n\nMr. Wicker picked up the round-bellied silver pitcher and set it in front of Chris.\n\n\"They say too,\" Mr. Wicker said scornfully, <|quote_start|>\"that crystal balls are the things to look into. Perfect tommyrot. This will do equally well. Look and see.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris bent to peer at the polished silver side of the pitcher. At first, it shone as no doubt it always did from Becky Boozer's powerful rubbing. Then, as he watched, the rounded side of the pitcher misted over, as if it had been filled with ice water. Next, the center of the misted portion cleared away, and as it cleared a picture formed, welling up into his sight as if from within the pitcher through the silver of its sides.\n\nWhat Chris saw was a hospital room. On a white bed lay his mother, and beside her were his Aunt Rachel and a white-coated man Chris took to be a doctor. Then, as if inside his head, for he was not conscious of sound within the room which had grown deeply still, he heard voices and words, and saw the lips of the doctor and his Aunt Rachel move.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "scornfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"", "start_byte": 66449, "end_byte": 66525, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 384.0449890136719, "cut_end_time": 388.74011401367187, "narration": {"text": " his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.", "cut_start_time": 392.4749987792969, "cut_end_time": 396.80006127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Chris bent to peer at the polished silver side of the pitcher. At first, it shone as no doubt it always did from Becky Boozer's powerful rubbing. Then, as he watched, the rounded side of the pitcher misted over, as if it had been filled with ice water. Next, the center of the misted portion cleared away, and as it cleared a picture formed, welling up into his sight as if from within the pitcher through the silver of its sides.\n\nWhat Chris saw was a hospital room. On a white bed lay his mother, and beside her were his Aunt Rachel and a white-coated man Chris took to be a doctor. Then, as if inside his head, for he was not conscious of sound within the room which had grown deeply still, he heard voices and words, and saw the lips of the doctor and his Aunt Rachel move.\n\nThe doctor said, <|quote_start|>\"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\" his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n\"Is that a trick too?\" he asked. \"Just to make me stay?\" he demanded more loudly.\n\n\"No, son,\" the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!", "start_byte": 66527, "end_byte": 66553, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 389.2450048828125, "cut_end_time": 391.7500048828125, "narration": {"text": " his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.", "cut_start_time": 392.4749987792969, "cut_end_time": 396.80006127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "What Chris saw was a hospital room. On a white bed lay his mother, and beside her were his Aunt Rachel and a white-coated man Chris took to be a doctor. Then, as if inside his head, for he was not conscious of sound within the room which had grown deeply still, he heard voices and words, and saw the lips of the doctor and his Aunt Rachel move.\n\nThe doctor said, \"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\"<|quote_end|> his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n\"Is that a trick too?\" he asked. \"Just to make me stay?\" he demanded more loudly.\n\n\"No, son,\" the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words. \"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Is that a trick too?", "start_byte": 66813, "end_byte": 66834, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 406.9150109863281, "cut_end_time": 408.1900734863282, "narration": {"text": "The scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.", "cut_start_time": 396.98498779296875, "cut_end_time": 405.70011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "What Chris saw was a hospital room. On a white bed lay his mother, and beside her were his Aunt Rachel and a white-coated man Chris took to be a doctor. Then, as if inside his head, for he was not conscious of sound within the room which had grown deeply still, he heard voices and words, and saw the lips of the doctor and his Aunt Rachel move.\n\nThe doctor said, \"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"\n\n\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\" his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Is that a trick too?\"<|quote_end|> he asked. \"Just to make me stay?\" he demanded more loudly.\n\n\"No, son,\" the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words. \"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"\n\nAnd to Chris's great surprise, all at once he felt tears on his cheeks while simultaneously a great lightness invaded him, and a wild wish to laugh.\n\nMr. Wicker poured him a glass of water and held it out.\n\n\"Drink this,\" he said. \"All is well. You can be at peace. And now,\" he went on in a brisker tone, replacing the glass Chris had drained, \"let us begin our talk.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Just to make me stay?", "start_byte": 66846, "end_byte": 66868, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 409.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 410.55012011718753, "narration": {"text": "The scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.", "cut_start_time": 396.98498779296875, "cut_end_time": 405.70011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "The doctor said, \"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"\n\n\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\" his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n\"Is that a trick too?\" he asked. <|quote_start|>\"Just to make me stay?\"<|quote_end|> he demanded more loudly.\n\n\"No, son,\" the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words. \"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"\n\nAnd to Chris's great surprise, all at once he felt tears on his cheeks while simultaneously a great lightness invaded him, and a wild wish to laugh.\n\nMr. Wicker poured him a glass of water and held it out.\n\n\"Drink this,\" he said. \"All is well. You can be at peace. And now,\" he went on in a brisker tone, replacing the glass Chris had drained, \"let us begin our talk.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"demanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "loudly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"No, son,", "start_byte": 66896, "end_byte": 66905, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 412.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 413.7501225585938, "narration": {"text": "The scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.", "cut_start_time": 396.98498779296875, "cut_end_time": 405.70011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"The turn has come. She will pull through, but she will need watchful care.\"\n\n\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\" his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n\"Is that a trick too?\" he asked. \"Just to make me stay?\" he demanded more loudly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, son,\"<|quote_end|> the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words. \"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"\n\nAnd to Chris's great surprise, all at once he felt tears on his cheeks while simultaneously a great lightness invaded him, and a wild wish to laugh.\n\nMr. Wicker poured him a glass of water and held it out.\n\n\"Drink this,\" he said. \"All is well. You can be at peace. And now,\" he went on in a brisker tone, replacing the glass Chris had drained, \"let us begin our talk.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"", "start_byte": 66958, "end_byte": 67003, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 417.89499633789063, "cut_end_time": 422.17012133789063, "narration": {"text": "The scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.", "cut_start_time": 396.98498779296875, "cut_end_time": 405.70011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh, thank God! Thank God!\" his Aunt Rachel cried, and covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears.\n\nThe scene misted over once again and when it cleared, the pitcher was merely a pitcher on a table in Mr. Wicker's room. Chris looked up at the man who regarded him gravely.\n\n\"Is that a trick too?\" he asked. \"Just to make me stay?\" he demanded more loudly.\n\n\"No, son,\" the man replied, and his eyes confirmed his words. <|quote_start|>\"That is how it really is. My word of honor.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAnd to Chris's great surprise, all at once he felt tears on his cheeks while simultaneously a great lightness invaded him, and a wild wish to laugh.\n\nMr. Wicker poured him a glass of water and held it out.\n\n\"Drink this,\" he said. \"All is well. You can be at peace. And now,\" he went on in a brisker tone, replacing the glass Chris had drained, \"let us begin our talk.\"\n\nCHAPTER 8\n\nChris returned happily to his chair and curled up in it as if he were at home. Even Mr. Wicker's expression seemed to have changed, and as a matter of fact it had, for the relief and portion of content that showed now in the boy's face, was reflected in some measure in that of the man. Before seating himself Mr. Wicker rang a silver bell on the tray by the pitcher. In a moment Becky Boozer knocked on the door and stuck her gigantic hat through the opening.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_07_dawson_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 35}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b04764e6336f43c6d35f93e5f865a20928e987e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"most certainly sir. I have the chocolate hot, as it so happens, and some cakes new-baked.\"", "start_byte": 68301, "end_byte": 68392, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 75.91499725341797, "cut_end_time": 81.05012225341797, "narration": {"text": "Chris took a sip of the hot chocolate and a bite of golden cake, deciding that he had never tasted better. This point decided on within himself, he gave his attention to the man across from him.", "cut_start_time": 115.79500061035155, "cut_end_time": 125.51000061035155, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"You rang, sir?\" she inquired, the feathers and roses bobbing as cheerily as live things around the sweeping brim.\n\n\"I did, Becky. It occurred to me,\" said Mr. Wicker, looking sideways at Chris, \"that some hot chocolate for Master Christopher and coffee for me would not be amiss at this hour of the morning. And,\" he added, seeing the interested spark in the boy's eyes, \"some of your delicious little cakes, perhaps?\"\n\n\"Most certainly,\" beamed Becky, <|quote_start|>\"most certainly sir. I have the chocolate hot, as it so happens, and some cakes new-baked.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe bustled off and in no time returned with a tray of china cups, matching flowered pots for coffee and for chocolate, a bowl of sugar, and a plate piled high with cakes. From one corner Becky pulled out a small table which she placed between the two chairs. The tray was safely settled, the fire given a poke and a fresh log before Mistress Boozer removed herself, in her starched dress and apron and her outrageous hat, from her master's study.\n\n\"Now,\" said Mr. Wicker, pouring out the steaming drinks,", "narrative_information_pred": {"beamed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"we shall refresh ourselves and you shall listen, if you will.\"", "start_byte": 68900, "end_byte": 68963, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 111.93500213623047, "cut_end_time": 115.04000213623047, "narration": {"text": "Chris took a sip of the hot chocolate and a bite of golden cake, deciding that he had never tasted better. This point decided on within himself, he gave his attention to the man across from him.", "cut_start_time": 115.79500061035155, "cut_end_time": 125.51000061035155, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "She bustled off and in no time returned with a tray of china cups, matching flowered pots for coffee and for chocolate, a bowl of sugar, and a plate piled high with cakes. From one corner Becky pulled out a small table which she placed between the two chairs. The tray was safely settled, the fire given a poke and a fresh log before Mistress Boozer removed herself, in her starched dress and apron and her outrageous hat, from her master's study.\n\n\"Now,\" said Mr. Wicker, pouring out the steaming drinks, <|quote_start|>\"we shall refresh ourselves and you shall listen, if you will.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris took a sip of the hot chocolate and a bite of golden cake, deciding that he had never tasted better. This point decided on within himself, he gave his attention to the man across from him.\n\n\"I told you,\" Mr. Wicker said, \"that I was a shipowner and a merchant. That is true. But these are troubled times. A revolution has had the land in its grasp. Times are bad, and this vast land is now convulsed with the birth throes of democracy. Money is hard to come by, and much needed, for General Washington's troops were farmers called away from their harvesting or sowing. The period of healing, for them and for the land, will be long and costly.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"I told you,", "start_byte": 69161, "end_byte": 69173, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 126.21499999999999, "cut_end_time": 127.2500625, "narration": {"text": "Chris took a sip of the hot chocolate and a bite of golden cake, deciding that he had never tasted better. This point decided on within himself, he gave his attention to the man across from him.", "cut_start_time": 115.79500061035155, "cut_end_time": 125.51000061035155, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "She bustled off and in no time returned with a tray of china cups, matching flowered pots for coffee and for chocolate, a bowl of sugar, and a plate piled high with cakes. From one corner Becky pulled out a small table which she placed between the two chairs. The tray was safely settled, the fire given a poke and a fresh log before Mistress Boozer removed herself, in her starched dress and apron and her outrageous hat, from her master's study.\n\n\"Now,\" said Mr. Wicker, pouring out the steaming drinks, \"we shall refresh ourselves and you shall listen, if you will.\"\n\nChris took a sip of the hot chocolate and a bite of golden cake, deciding that he had never tasted better. This point decided on within himself, he gave his attention to the man across from him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I told you,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said, \"that I was a shipowner and a merchant. That is true. But these are troubled times. A revolution has had the land in its grasp. Times are bad, and this vast land is now convulsed with the birth throes of democracy. Money is hard to come by, and much needed, for General Washington's troops were farmers called away from their harvesting or sowing. The period of healing, for them and for the land, will be long and costly.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Destruction is so fast, and to construct and build,", "start_byte": 69673, "end_byte": 69725, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 158.94500732421875, "cut_end_time": 161.93000732421874, "narration": {"text": "A wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.", "cut_start_time": 196.68500183105468, "cut_end_time": 204.1400018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"that I was a shipowner and a merchant. That is true. But these are troubled times. A revolution has had the land in its grasp. Times are bad, and this vast land is now convulsed with the birth throes of democracy. Money is hard to come by, and much needed, for General Washington's troops were farmers called away from their harvesting or sowing. The period of healing, for them and for the land, will be long and costly.\"\n\nHe paused to sip his coffee and then put the cup down.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Destruction is so fast, and to construct and build,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said, staring at the fire, \"that is what is slow.\" He turned to Chris. \"Without financial help, without money for the beginning of this new land and this new government that is struggling to be born, this free place and this fine democratic experiment will fail. I know a way to save it, and you have been sent back into the past from our future -- my future and yours, and that of the land -- to help us and make it real. You will not disappoint me, Christopher", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"that is what is slow.", "start_byte": 69765, "end_byte": 69787, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 164.76499572753906, "cut_end_time": 165.98005822753905, "narration": {"text": "A wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.", "cut_start_time": 196.68500183105468, "cut_end_time": 204.1400018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"that I was a shipowner and a merchant. That is true. But these are troubled times. A revolution has had the land in its grasp. Times are bad, and this vast land is now convulsed with the birth throes of democracy. Money is hard to come by, and much needed, for General Washington's troops were farmers called away from their harvesting or sowing. The period of healing, for them and for the land, will be long and costly.\"\n\nHe paused to sip his coffee and then put the cup down.\n\n\"Destruction is so fast, and to construct and build,\" Mr. Wicker said, staring at the fire, <|quote_start|>\"that is what is slow.\"<|quote_end|> He turned to Chris. \"Without financial help, without money for the beginning of this new land and this new government that is struggling to be born, this free place and this fine democratic experiment will fail. I know a way to save it, and you have been sent back into the past from our future -- my future and yours, and that of the land -- to help us and make it real. You will not disappoint me, Christopher?\" Mr. Wicker turned burning eyes on Chris's face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"You will help your country get its start?\"", "start_byte": 70251, "end_byte": 70294, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 193.73499755859373, "cut_end_time": 195.46012255859375, "narration": {"text": "A wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.", "cut_start_time": 196.68500183105468, "cut_end_time": 204.1400018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\" He turned to Chris. \"Without financial help, without money for the beginning of this new land and this new government that is struggling to be born, this free place and this fine democratic experiment will fail. I know a way to save it, and you have been sent back into the past from our future -- my future and yours, and that of the land -- to help us and make it real. You will not disappoint me, Christopher?\" Mr. Wicker turned burning eyes on Chris's face. <|quote_start|>\"You will help your country get its start?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.\n\n\"Oh, yes sir! You bet! If I can, I'll help!\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face expressed his satisfaction. He rose too and held out his hand.\n\n\"I knew you would,\" he said. \"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"turned": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Oh, yes sir! You bet! If I can, I'll help!\"", "start_byte": 70463, "end_byte": 70507, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 204.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 207.49005639648436, "narration": {"text": "A wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.", "cut_start_time": 196.68500183105468, "cut_end_time": 204.1400018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Without financial help, without money for the beginning of this new land and this new government that is struggling to be born, this free place and this fine democratic experiment will fail. I know a way to save it, and you have been sent back into the past from our future -- my future and yours, and that of the land -- to help us and make it real. You will not disappoint me, Christopher?\" Mr. Wicker turned burning eyes on Chris's face. \"You will help your country get its start?\"\n\nA wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh, yes sir! You bet! If I can, I'll help!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker's face expressed his satisfaction. He rose too and held out his hand.\n\n\"I knew you would,\" he said. \"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"\n\nThe two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n\"Listen closely,\" Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"", "start_byte": 70620, "end_byte": 70744, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 215.10500671386717, "cut_end_time": 221.41000671386718, "narration": {"text": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.", "cut_start_time": 222.385, "cut_end_time": 230.28, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker turned burning eyes on Chris's face. \"You will help your country get its start?\"\n\nA wave of excitement such as he had never known surged over Chris and he started to his feet, almost upsetting the table and making the cups rattle on their saucers.\n\n\"Oh, yes sir! You bet! If I can, I'll help!\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face expressed his satisfaction. He rose too and held out his hand.\n\n\"I knew you would,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n\"Listen closely,\" Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer. \"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Listen closely,", "start_byte": 70885, "end_byte": 70901, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 230.97499938964845, "cut_end_time": 232.09006188964844, "narration": {"text": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.", "cut_start_time": 222.385, "cut_end_time": 230.28, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh, yes sir! You bet! If I can, I'll help!\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face expressed his satisfaction. He rose too and held out his hand.\n\n\"I knew you would,\" he said. \"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"\n\nThe two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Listen closely,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer. \"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"\n\nChris waited, listening.\n\n\"This Jewel Tree,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"", "start_byte": 70943, "end_byte": 71235, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 234.33500061035156, "cut_end_time": 251.15000061035155, "narration": {"text": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.", "cut_start_time": 222.385, "cut_end_time": 230.28, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker's face expressed his satisfaction. He rose too and held out his hand.\n\n\"I knew you would,\" he said. \"It had to be, for it could be no other way. But there is always doubt. Your hand, my boy, for we have work to do together.\"\n\nThe two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n\"Listen closely,\" Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer. <|quote_start|>\"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris waited, listening.\n\n\"This Jewel Tree,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\" and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. \"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"This Jewel Tree,", "start_byte": 71263, "end_byte": 71280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 253.97499633789062, "cut_end_time": 255.18012133789063, "narration": {"text": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.", "cut_start_time": 222.385, "cut_end_time": 230.28, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n\"Listen closely,\" Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer. \"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"\n\nChris waited, listening.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"This Jewel Tree,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker went on, \"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\" and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. \"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,", "start_byte": 71302, "end_byte": 71404, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 256.5449987792969, "cut_end_time": 261.9200612792969, "narration": {"text": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.", "cut_start_time": 222.385, "cut_end_time": 230.28, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "The two hands, large and small, were firm, one in the other, and Chris felt a new power coming to him from the man whose hand he grasped.\n\n\"Listen closely,\" Mr. Wicker said, and Chris drew nearer. \"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"\n\nChris waited, listening.\n\n\"This Jewel Tree,\" Mr. Wicker went on, <|quote_start|>\"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\"<|quote_end|> and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. \"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\" Mr. Wicker went on. \"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!", "start_byte": 71460, "end_byte": 71687, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 266.344990234375, "cut_end_time": 281.800115234375, "narration": {"text": " He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.", "cut_start_time": 282.6850036621094, "cut_end_time": 286.6300036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"There is a wondrous thing, unique in the world, and which, for the benefit of this growing country, we must obtain. Its possession will mean we can pay for many things -- a new city here, tools; building materials. This wonderful object is the Jewel Tree belonging to the Princess of China.\"\n\nChris waited, listening.\n\n\"This Jewel Tree,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\" and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. <|quote_start|>\"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\"<|quote_end|> He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\" Mr. Wicker went on. \"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!", "start_byte": 71761, "end_byte": 71801, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 287.0849914550781, "cut_end_time": 289.1801164550781, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\" and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. \"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker went on. \"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"", "start_byte": 71823, "end_byte": 71975, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.32499511718754, "cut_end_time": 300.3301201171875, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"is a tree that grows, that puts out leaves and flowers and bears fruit, but here is the wonder of it,\" and he bent his piercing eyes on Chris's intent face. \"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\" Mr. Wicker went on. <|quote_start|>\"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,", "start_byte": 72042, "end_byte": 72091, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 304.6149987792969, "cut_end_time": 306.4801237792969, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\" Mr. Wicker went on. \"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker continued, \"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage.", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.", "start_byte": 72115, "end_byte": 72170, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 308.0949963378906, "cut_end_time": 311.16005883789063, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"This growing tree is made of jewels; leaves and flowers and even seeded fruit. The leaves are emeralds; the flowers, diamonds and sapphires; the fruits, huge rubies seeded thick with pearls. Imagine such a treasure if you can!\" He spread his arms wide and Chris's eyes were shining with excitement.\n\n\"Imagine the possession of such a plant!\" Mr. Wicker went on. \"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\" Mr. Wicker continued, <|quote_start|>\"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\"<|quote_end|> He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. \"We have been enemies for long,\" said Mr. Wicker,", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.", "start_byte": 72279, "end_byte": 72477, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 317.80500610351567, "cut_end_time": 329.93000610351567, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Break off a branch of it -- another grows. And flowers and fruit -- much like your orange trees -- bear both their fruit and flowers at the same time.\"\n\nThey sat down again, the better to continue their conversation.\n\n\"The taking of such a prize would be hard enough,\" Mr. Wicker continued, \"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. \"We have been enemies for long,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"\n\n\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\" Chris wanted to know.\n\n\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"We have been enemies for long,", "start_byte": 72540, "end_byte": 72571, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 334.0350134277344, "cut_end_time": 335.6700759277344, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"for it is well guarded. But there is a greater hazard.\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. <|quote_start|>\"We have been enemies for long,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker, \"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"\n\n\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\" Chris wanted to know.\n\n\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,\" Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his gaze on Chris,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"", "start_byte": 72590, "end_byte": 72631, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 337.7349853515625, "cut_end_time": 339.6000478515625, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. \"We have been enemies for long,\" said Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\" Chris wanted to know.\n\n\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,\" Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his gaze on Chris, \"that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his palaces, and so does Claggett Chew.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?", "start_byte": 72633, "end_byte": 72665, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 340.8349938964844, "cut_end_time": 342.4101188964844, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\" He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.\n\n\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. \"We have been enemies for long,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\"<|quote_end|> Chris wanted to know.\n\n\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,\" Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his gaze on Chris, \"that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his palaces, and so does Claggett Chew.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"wanted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,", "start_byte": 72690, "end_byte": 72929, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 343.9850134277344, "cut_end_time": 357.3500759277344, "narration": {"text": " He rose from his chair to walk about in his nervousness and eagerness at what lay ahead. Then he went on.", "cut_start_time": 312.2649926757813, "cut_end_time": 317.58011767578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"There is a man here, posing as a merchant. Claggett Chew. You will see him in the town when you walk there, which you shall do, presently. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well.\" Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. \"We have been enemies for long,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"\n\n\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\" Chris wanted to know.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his gaze on Chris, \"that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his palaces, and so does Claggett Chew.\"\n\nMr. Wicker strode about, striking the closed fist of one hand into the palm of the other, and Chris scrambled out of his chair to stand watching the pacing figure. And it came to Chris as he followed with his eyes the black swinging coat, the silver-buckled black knee breeches, the neat white stock and black-brocaded waistcoat of the magician, it came to him that he had a great confidence and affection for this man. Even knowing him as little as he did, having to take so much on trust, still, in Chris's mind there was no smallest grain of doubt, suspicion, or distrust. He knew, without having to think it out, that Mr. Wicker was a great man, great in knowledge and in heart. Reliable and kind and wise. In that moment Chris put his whole faith in a man he had not known yet for a day.", "narrative_information_pred": {"enlarged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his palaces, and so does Claggett Chew.\"", "start_byte": 72979, "end_byte": 73135, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 361.29498657226566, "cut_end_time": 371.81004907226566, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\" said Mr. Wicker, \"but he has yet to get the better of me.\"\n\n\"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?\" Chris wanted to know.\n\n\"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it -- all but myself, up to this time -- all others have died before they could make use of it. You can well imagine,\" Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his gaze on Chris, <|quote_start|>\"that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his palaces, and so does Claggett Chew.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker strode about, striking the closed fist of one hand into the palm of the other, and Chris scrambled out of his chair to stand watching the pacing figure. And it came to Chris as he followed with his eyes the black swinging coat, the silver-buckled black knee breeches, the neat white stock and black-brocaded waistcoat of the magician, it came to him that he had a great confidence and affection for this man. Even knowing him as little as he did, having to take so much on trust, still, in Chris's mind there was no smallest grain of doubt, suspicion, or distrust. He knew, without having to think it out, that Mr. Wicker was a great man, great in knowledge and in heart. Reliable and kind and wise. In that moment Chris put his whole faith in a man he had not known yet for a day.", "narrative_information_pred": {"enlarged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"There is one way,", "start_byte": 73947, "end_byte": 73965, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 419.5850073242188, "cut_end_time": 420.5900073242188, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker strode about, striking the closed fist of one hand into the palm of the other, and Chris scrambled out of his chair to stand watching the pacing figure. And it came to Chris as he followed with his eyes the black swinging coat, the silver-buckled black knee breeches, the neat white stock and black-brocaded waistcoat of the magician, it came to him that he had a great confidence and affection for this man. Even knowing him as little as he did, having to take so much on trust, still, in Chris's mind there was no smallest grain of doubt, suspicion, or distrust. He knew, without having to think it out, that Mr. Wicker was a great man, great in knowledge and in heart. Reliable and kind and wise. In that moment Chris put his whole faith in a man he had not known yet for a day.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There is one way,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said, wheeling about and standing still, \"and that is where I need your help.\" He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- \"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"and that is where I need your help.", "start_byte": 74019, "end_byte": 74055, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 423.90501464843754, "cut_end_time": 425.8000146484375, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker strode about, striking the closed fist of one hand into the palm of the other, and Chris scrambled out of his chair to stand watching the pacing figure. And it came to Chris as he followed with his eyes the black swinging coat, the silver-buckled black knee breeches, the neat white stock and black-brocaded waistcoat of the magician, it came to him that he had a great confidence and affection for this man. Even knowing him as little as he did, having to take so much on trust, still, in Chris's mind there was no smallest grain of doubt, suspicion, or distrust. He knew, without having to think it out, that Mr. Wicker was a great man, great in knowledge and in heart. Reliable and kind and wise. In that moment Chris put his whole faith in a man he had not known yet for a day.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"There is one way,\" Mr. Wicker said, wheeling about and standing still, <|quote_start|>\"and that is where I need your help.\"<|quote_end|> He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- \"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\" demanded Mr. Wicker.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?", "start_byte": 74372, "end_byte": 74463, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 444.89500976562505, "cut_end_time": 450.77000976562505, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker said, wheeling about and standing still, \"and that is where I need your help.\" He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- <|quote_start|>\"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\"<|quote_end|> demanded Mr. Wicker. \"Can you learn my magic?\"\n\n\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. \"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"demanded": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Can you learn my magic?\"", "start_byte": 74486, "end_byte": 74511, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 452.5350073242188, "cut_end_time": 453.6500073242188, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\" He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- \"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\" demanded Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"Can you learn my magic?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. \"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"demanded": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"", "start_byte": 74539, "end_byte": 74579, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 457.2050036621094, "cut_end_time": 460.8800036621094, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\" He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- \"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\" demanded Mr. Wicker. \"Can you learn my magic?\"\n\n\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. <|quote_start|>\"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"stammered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.", "start_byte": 74676, "end_byte": 74750, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 468.67499267578125, "cut_end_time": 473.4200551757813, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\" He strode back across the room towards Chris. \"This villain, Claggett Chew -- for that is what he is, no better -- this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my power were in a boy -- a lad he never would suspect -- then -- \" Mr. Wicker put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at him -- \"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\" demanded Mr. Wicker. \"Can you learn my magic?\"\n\n\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. \"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, <|quote_start|>\"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\"<|quote_end|> He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"At least I can try,", "start_byte": 74778, "end_byte": 74798, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 475.3950122070313, "cut_end_time": 476.9100747070313, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance.", "cut_start_time": 477.825009765625, "cut_end_time": 481.630009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree. Can you learn what I know?\" demanded Mr. Wicker. \"Can you learn my magic?\"\n\n\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. \"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. <|quote_start|>\"At least I can try,\"<|quote_end|> he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"", "start_byte": 74904, "end_byte": 74961, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 483.7750024414063, "cut_end_time": 486.3400649414063, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "cut_start_time": 499.28500976562503, "cut_end_time": 504.380009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\"Magic?\" Chris stammered. \"Those tricks -- the fly -- and others?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.\n\n\"You are the lad for me!\" he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. \"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"There's just one thing,", "start_byte": 74963, "end_byte": 74987, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 487.3550048828125, "cut_end_time": 488.78000488281253, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "cut_start_time": 499.28500976562503, "cut_end_time": 504.380009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes,\" said Mr. Wicker quietly. \"Many more.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There's just one thing,\"<|quote_end|> Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.\n\n\"You are the lad for me!\" he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. \"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "puzzlement": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"", "start_byte": 75031, "end_byte": 75110, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 490.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 498.09012255859375, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "cut_start_time": 499.28500976562503, "cut_end_time": 504.380009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\"Well,\" Chris answered after a moment's thought, \"I got here, didn't I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could.\" He looked up with a grin. \"At least I can try,\" he said.\n\nMr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. <|quote_start|>\"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.\n\n\"You are the lad for me!\" he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. \"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "puzzlement": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"You are the lad for me!", "start_byte": 75220, "end_byte": 75244, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 504.28499877929687, "cut_end_time": 505.7901237792969, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.", "cut_start_time": 499.28500976562503, "cut_end_time": 504.380009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and acceptance. \"Good lad!\" he said. \"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You are the lad for me!\"<|quote_end|> he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. \"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"\n\n\"And now,\" he said, \"I smell a broiling chicken. Off you go and eat your lunch, and later we shall talk again.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"", "start_byte": 75337, "end_byte": 75635, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 510.72499267578127, "cut_end_time": 527.8401176757812, "narration": {"text": " he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice.", "cut_start_time": 506.3650036621094, "cut_end_time": 510.5200036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\"I know that you can learn. For you it will not be hard.\"\n\n\"There's just one thing,\" Chris said, with puzzlement in his voice. \"You say, sir, 'Seize the Tree.' That means just stealing it? Must we do that?\"\n\nMr. Wicker looked at Chris and his face was serene and smooth with the great satisfaction of his feelings.\n\n\"You are the lad for me!\" he cried, and Chris felt himself coloring with pleasure at the tone of Mr. Wicker's voice. <|quote_start|>\"I knew it from the first! It would be stealing, boy, but for one thing. When -- and heaven willing, if -- you reach the Tree, you will break a branch from it and stick it in the ground. It will root itself and grow and thrive, and the Princess will still have delicate jewel flowers for her hair.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"And now,\" he said, \"I smell a broiling chicken. Off you go and eat your lunch, and later we shall talk again.\"\n\nChris went out smiling.\n\nCHAPTER 9\n\nIn the kitchen, Chris leaned against the corner of the passage and kitchen wall to watch Becky at her tasks. How different from the compact white kitchen they had at home! And yet there was a cosy feeling about the huge room in front of him with its ruddy copper utensils, tub-size wicker basket of vegetables, steaming pots hung over the fire, and the browning row of four chickens on a revolving spit, that gave out a friendliness and welcome modern kitchens did not have. Becky finally paused in her work long enough to glance out from under her hat at Chris.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_08_dawson_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 43}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..c0eb8681c9bac36eebefda4ca3dcc0fc2489519d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"It is enough for a while,", "start_byte": 96850, "end_byte": 96876, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 69.96499938964843, "cut_end_time": 71.45012438964844, "narration": {"text": " commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.", "cut_start_time": 97.33499694824218, "cut_end_time": 105.07012194824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Another cot was put into Chris's room, and night after night they would hang out the two mansard windows, watching what went on below until it was too dark to see. Or else they would talk by the light of their candle until they fell asleep.\n\nChris now knew how lonely he had been until he set Amos free from his wooden shroud, but, warned by Mr. Wicker, he did not tell his new friend that he came from another year as yet unreached by the time they lived in.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It is enough for a while,\"<|quote_end|> cautioned Mr. Wicker, \"that Amos get used to being limber and alive. That is change enough from a carved wooden figure. It would only confuse and trouble him to think you do not really belong where you are. So let him be happy. And I shall seal your lips with regard to the secret of the Jewel Tree, for that must be known to no one,\" and so saying he rubbed a salve over Chris's lips.\n\n\"Now tell me what you are to journey after", "narrative_information_pred": {"cautioned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"that Amos get used to being limber and alive. That is change enough from a carved wooden figure. It would only confuse and trouble him to think you do not really belong where you are. So let him be happy. And I shall seal your lips with regard to the secret of the Jewel Tree, for that must be known to no one,", "start_byte": 96900, "end_byte": 97211, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 72.82499938964843, "cut_end_time": 90.59012438964842, "narration": {"text": " commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.", "cut_start_time": 97.33499694824218, "cut_end_time": 105.07012194824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Another cot was put into Chris's room, and night after night they would hang out the two mansard windows, watching what went on below until it was too dark to see. Or else they would talk by the light of their candle until they fell asleep.\n\nChris now knew how lonely he had been until he set Amos free from his wooden shroud, but, warned by Mr. Wicker, he did not tell his new friend that he came from another year as yet unreached by the time they lived in.\n\n\"It is enough for a while,\" cautioned Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"that Amos get used to being limber and alive. That is change enough from a carved wooden figure. It would only confuse and trouble him to think you do not really belong where you are. So let him be happy. And I shall seal your lips with regard to the secret of the Jewel Tree, for that must be known to no one,\"<|quote_end|> and so saying he rubbed a salve over Chris's lips.\n\n\"Now tell me what you are to journey after,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.\n\n\"Good,\" said Mr. Wicker, rubbing his hands. \"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,\" he added, turning the tiny case that contained the salve in his fingers. \"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cautioned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Now tell me what you are to journey after,", "start_byte": 97265, "end_byte": 97308, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 94.91499694824218, "cut_end_time": 97.02005944824218, "narration": {"text": " commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.", "cut_start_time": 97.33499694824218, "cut_end_time": 105.07012194824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Chris now knew how lonely he had been until he set Amos free from his wooden shroud, but, warned by Mr. Wicker, he did not tell his new friend that he came from another year as yet unreached by the time they lived in.\n\n\"It is enough for a while,\" cautioned Mr. Wicker, \"that Amos get used to being limber and alive. That is change enough from a carved wooden figure. It would only confuse and trouble him to think you do not really belong where you are. So let him be happy. And I shall seal your lips with regard to the secret of the Jewel Tree, for that must be known to no one,\" and so saying he rubbed a salve over Chris's lips.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now tell me what you are to journey after,\"<|quote_end|> commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.\n\n\"Good,\" said Mr. Wicker, rubbing his hands. \"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,\" he added, turning the tiny case that contained the salve in his fingers. \"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"commanded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,", "start_byte": 97516, "end_byte": 97555, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 109.11499908447266, "cut_end_time": 112.25012408447265, "narration": {"text": " commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.", "cut_start_time": 97.33499694824218, "cut_end_time": 105.07012194824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"that Amos get used to being limber and alive. That is change enough from a carved wooden figure. It would only confuse and trouble him to think you do not really belong where you are. So let him be happy. And I shall seal your lips with regard to the secret of the Jewel Tree, for that must be known to no one,\" and so saying he rubbed a salve over Chris's lips.\n\n\"Now tell me what you are to journey after,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.\n\n\"Good,\" said Mr. Wicker, rubbing his hands. <|quote_start|>\"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,\"<|quote_end|> he added, turning the tiny case that contained the salve in his fingers. \"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"\n\n\"Mr. Wicker,\" Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day, \"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"", "start_byte": 97630, "end_byte": 97784, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 117.1050030517578, "cut_end_time": 126.61000305175781, "narration": {"text": " Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day,", "cut_start_time": 128.92499938964843, "cut_end_time": 133.42012438964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\" and so saying he rubbed a salve over Chris's lips.\n\n\"Now tell me what you are to journey after,\" commanded Mr. Wicker. But when Chris attempted to talk of the Jewel Tree, the words would not pass his lips but remained in his mouth like a handful of marbles.\n\n\"Good,\" said Mr. Wicker, rubbing his hands. \"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,\" he added, turning the tiny case that contained the salve in his fingers. <|quote_start|>\"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Mr. Wicker,\" Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day, \"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"\n\n\"Ah yes,\" Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire, \"the rope. Very well, my boy, since it has come into your mind again, that means that the time has come for you to discover its use. Go and bring it to me.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"", "start_byte": 97894, "end_byte": 98093, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 133.63500244140624, "cut_end_time": 146.79000244140624, "narration": {"text": " Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day,", "cut_start_time": 128.92499938964843, "cut_end_time": 133.42012438964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"Good,\" said Mr. Wicker, rubbing his hands. \"Not even to me. Excellent stuff, this,\" he added, turning the tiny case that contained the salve in his fingers. \"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"\n\n\"Mr. Wicker,\" Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day, <|quote_start|>\"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Ah yes,\" Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire, \"the rope. Very well, my boy, since it has come into your mind again, that means that the time has come for you to discover its use. Go and bring it to me.\"\n\nChris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Ah yes,", "start_byte": 98095, "end_byte": 98103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 147.60499877929686, "cut_end_time": 148.82012377929686, "narration": {"text": " Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day,", "cut_start_time": 128.92499938964843, "cut_end_time": 133.42012438964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"\n\n\"Mr. Wicker,\" Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day, \"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah yes,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire, \"the rope. Very well, my boy, since it has come into your mind again, that means that the time has come for you to discover its use. Go and bring it to me.\"\n\nChris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"the rope. Very well, my boy, since it has come into your mind again, that means that the time has come for you to discover its use. Go and bring it to me.\"", "start_byte": 98177, "end_byte": 98333, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 153.64500244140623, "cut_end_time": 162.54000244140624, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire,", "cut_start_time": 149.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 153.22006982421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"I got it in India years ago, and this is the last of it. But I hardly imagine I shall need it again. Its use is somewhat drastic, but occasionally wise.\"\n\n\"Mr. Wicker,\" Chris said thoughtfully one afternoon after his lessons and memorizing were over for the day, \"of the three things in your shop window that I liked best, two have been explained. Yet the third, which still interests me, seems to have had, so far, no significance. I mean, of course, the rope.\"\n\n\"Ah yes,\" Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire, <|quote_start|>\"the rope. Very well, my boy, since it has come into your mind again, that means that the time has come for you to discover its use. Go and bring it to me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodding": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"You have heard of the Indian rope trick, Christopher?\"", "start_byte": 99026, "end_byte": 99081, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 204.59500061035155, "cut_end_time": 206.76006311035155, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire,", "cut_start_time": 149.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 153.22006982421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "Chris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You have heard of the Indian rope trick, Christopher?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes -- and no, sir,\" Chris replied. \"I'm not sure how it works.\"\n\nMr. Wicker gave a chuckle. \"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Yes -- and no, sir,", "start_byte": 99083, "end_byte": 99103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 207.37500366210938, "cut_end_time": 209.63000366210937, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire,", "cut_start_time": 149.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 153.22006982421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Chris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.\n\n\"You have heard of the Indian rope trick, Christopher?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes -- and no, sir,\"<|quote_end|> Chris replied. \"I'm not sure how it works.\"\n\nMr. Wicker gave a chuckle. \"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"\n\nMr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"I'm not sure how it works.\"", "start_byte": 99120, "end_byte": 99148, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 211.0950030517578, "cut_end_time": 212.6300655517578, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker agreed, nodding and stretching his feet out toward the fire,", "cut_start_time": 149.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 153.22006982421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Chris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.\n\n\"You have heard of the Indian rope trick, Christopher?\"\n\n\"Yes -- and no, sir,\" Chris replied. <|quote_start|>\"I'm not sure how it works.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker gave a chuckle. \"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"\n\nMr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"", "start_byte": 99177, "end_byte": 99461, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 216.90499572753905, "cut_end_time": 233.96005822753907, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.", "cut_start_time": 234.73499572753906, "cut_end_time": 239.93012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Chris ran to get the coiled rope. He experienced almost a shock when he touched it. It had looked harsh and coarse to the touch, of rough hemp fibre, but on picking it up, the coils in his hand seemed almost silky. Certainly they were more than usually pliable. Returning to the study, the boy put the rope beside Mr. Wicker's chair. The magician did not move, his feet still stretched comfortably towards the flames. His dark handsome face was dreamy and remote, and Chris wondered in what faraway place or time his teacher moved. The apprentice sat down cross-legged with his back to the fire, and presently Mr. Wicker took his gaze from the sparks and smoke to look thoughtfully at him.\n\n\"You have heard of the Indian rope trick, Christopher?\"\n\n\"Yes -- and no, sir,\" Chris replied. \"I'm not sure how it works.\"\n\nMr. Wicker gave a chuckle. <|quote_start|>\"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.\n\n\"A good enough trick, in its way,\" condescended Mr. Wicker, \"but this rope is capable of so much more remarkable possibilities as to throw the Indian rope trick completely in the shade.\"\n\nWith one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.\n\n\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point,", "narrative_information_pred": {"gave": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"A good enough trick, in its way,", "start_byte": 99566, "end_byte": 99599, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 240.46500549316406, "cut_end_time": 242.47000549316405, "narration": {"text": "With one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.", "cut_start_time": 251.84500061035155, "cut_end_time": 257.99006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker gave a chuckle. \"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"\n\nMr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"A good enough trick, in its way,\"<|quote_end|> condescended Mr. Wicker, \"but this rope is capable of so much more remarkable possibilities as to throw the Indian rope trick completely in the shade.\"\n\nWith one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.\n\n\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point, \"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"condescended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"but this rope is capable of so much more remarkable possibilities as to throw the Indian rope trick completely in the shade.\"", "start_byte": 99626, "end_byte": 99752, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 244.14499999999998, "cut_end_time": 251.0100625, "narration": {"text": "With one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.", "cut_start_time": 251.84500061035155, "cut_end_time": 257.99006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"Indeed? Well, let me tell you, my boy, no one else does either. The rope is made to go up in the air, so stiffly that the fakir -- that is, the Eastern magician -- can climb it. Some claim to have seen the fakirs climb up it and vanish from sight, and the rope disappear after them.\"\n\nMr. Wicker waved one hand as much as to say that those who had seen it could believe as they pleased.\n\n\"A good enough trick, in its way,\" condescended Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"but this rope is capable of so much more remarkable possibilities as to throw the Indian rope trick completely in the shade.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nWith one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.\n\n\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point, \"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.", "narrative_information_pred": {"condescended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"", "start_byte": 100013, "end_byte": 100133, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 267.3350122070313, "cut_end_time": 275.2200122070313, "narration": {"text": "\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point,", "cut_start_time": 258.48500732421877, "cut_end_time": 266.8500698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\" condescended Mr. Wicker, \"but this rope is capable of so much more remarkable possibilities as to throw the Indian rope trick completely in the shade.\"\n\nWith one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.\n\n\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point, <|quote_start|>\"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.\n\n\"Now Christopher,\" he began, running the rope through his long, fine hands, \"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\" Chris cleared the room. \"And pull the curtains, my boy,\" added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know", "narrative_information_pred": {"held": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "up": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 8}, "finger": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}, "stress": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Now Christopher,", "start_byte": 100229, "end_byte": 100246, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 281.77500610351564, "cut_end_time": 282.8700686035156, "narration": {"text": "When the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.", "cut_start_time": 306.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.3500747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "With one of his quick gestures, Mr. Wicker reached down for the rope and was up and out of his chair, all in one movement.\n\n\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point, \"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> he began, running the rope through his long, fine hands, \"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\" Chris cleared the room. \"And pull the curtains, my boy,\" added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\" murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.", "start_byte": 100305, "end_byte": 100423, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 285.96498779296877, "cut_end_time": 292.00011279296876, "narration": {"text": "When the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.", "cut_start_time": 306.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.3500747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"You shall learn, last of your lessons, a new way of using a lasso. Not lassoing -- \" Mr. Wicker held up a finger to stress his point, \"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.\n\n\"Now Christopher,\" he began, running the rope through his long, fine hands, <|quote_start|>\"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\"<|quote_end|> Chris cleared the room. \"And pull the curtains, my boy,\" added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\" murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.\n\n\"Now Christopher, your attention please", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"And pull the curtains, my boy,", "start_byte": 100449, "end_byte": 100480, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 293.975, "cut_end_time": 295.49, "narration": {"text": "When the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.", "cut_start_time": 306.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.3500747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.\n\n\"Now Christopher,\" he began, running the rope through his long, fine hands, \"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\" Chris cleared the room. <|quote_start|>\"And pull the curtains, my boy,\"<|quote_end|> added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\" murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.\n\n\"Now Christopher, your attention please,\" said the magician, and his tone was crisp and authoritative.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,", "start_byte": 100500, "end_byte": 100610, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.80499267578125, "cut_end_time": 303.38005517578125, "narration": {"text": "When the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.", "cut_start_time": 306.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.3500747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"that, too, you shall learn, but how to use this particular rope to make the most of its -- shall we say? -- qualities.\"\n\nMr. Wicker smiled his sardonic smile, though his eyes were snapping as brightly as the fire.\n\n\"Now Christopher,\" he began, running the rope through his long, fine hands, \"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\" Chris cleared the room. \"And pull the curtains, my boy,\" added his master, <|quote_start|>\"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\"<|quote_end|> murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.\n\n\"Now Christopher, your attention please,\" said the magician, and his tone was crisp and authoritative. \"Imagine that you are in need of a boat, and there is no boat.\"\n\nWith several twists of his hands the rope spun out into the middle air of the room. It moved and twisted like a live thing, and Mr. Wicker, Chris thought, seemed to be drawing the outline of a boat in the air with the moving line. Even as this thought flickered in his mind, the rope formed in mid-air the skeleton of a dingy, and then, mysteriously, the rope added to itself until the bare struts and sides were filled in and there, rocking lightly from the speed of its creation, a small row-boat hovered in the air, as if it were tied up to a dock.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Now Christopher, your attention please,", "start_byte": 100851, "end_byte": 100891, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.985009765625, "cut_end_time": 318.42007226562504, "narration": {"text": "When the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.", "cut_start_time": 306.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 315.3500747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"just push that table and the chairs to the wall, there's a good lad, and we shall get the stiffness out of this rope.\" Chris cleared the room. \"And pull the curtains, my boy,\" added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\" murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now Christopher, your attention please,\"<|quote_end|> said the magician, and his tone was crisp and authoritative. \"Imagine that you are in need of a boat, and there is no boat.\"\n\nWith several twists of his hands the rope spun out into the middle air of the room. It moved and twisted like a live thing, and Mr. Wicker, Chris thought, seemed to be drawing the outline of a boat in the air with the moving line. Even as this thought flickered in his mind, the rope formed in mid-air the skeleton of a dingy, and then, mysteriously, the rope added to itself until the bare struts and sides were filled in and there, rocking lightly from the speed of its creation, a small row-boat hovered in the air, as if it were tied up to a dock.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "crisp": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "authoritative": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Imagine that you are in need of a boat, and there is no boat.\"", "start_byte": 100954, "end_byte": 101017, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 321.4649987792969, "cut_end_time": 325.0401237792969, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\" added his master, \"for one never knows but that Amos or Becky Boozer might pass by at the crucial moment. What they do not know,\" murmured the magician, \"is best for them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the room was satisfactorily arranged, and candles had been lit, Chris returned to stand by the fireplace beside his master, who was turning the rope lightly in his fingers.\n\n\"Now Christopher, your attention please,\" said the magician, and his tone was crisp and authoritative. <|quote_start|>\"Imagine that you are in need of a boat, and there is no boat.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nWith several twists of his hands the rope spun out into the middle air of the room. It moved and twisted like a live thing, and Mr. Wicker, Chris thought, seemed to be drawing the outline of a boat in the air with the moving line. Even as this thought flickered in his mind, the rope formed in mid-air the skeleton of a dingy, and then, mysteriously, the rope added to itself until the bare struts and sides were filled in and there, rocking lightly from the speed of its creation, a small row-boat hovered in the air, as if it were tied up to a dock.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Go and feel of it, Christopher,", "start_byte": 101572, "end_byte": 101604, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 357.3650085449219, "cut_end_time": 359.0800710449219, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "With several twists of his hands the rope spun out into the middle air of the room. It moved and twisted like a live thing, and Mr. Wicker, Chris thought, seemed to be drawing the outline of a boat in the air with the moving line. Even as this thought flickered in his mind, the rope formed in mid-air the skeleton of a dingy, and then, mysteriously, the rope added to itself until the bare struts and sides were filled in and there, rocking lightly from the speed of its creation, a small row-boat hovered in the air, as if it were tied up to a dock.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Go and feel of it, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker urged. \"Climb in it if you like. I have left the two ends of the rope long enough to make oars, if necessary.\"\n\nChris ran over and felt the sides of the boat. It was sound and secure, no doubt of that. He went all around it, pounding its sides, and at last heaved himself over to fall into its center. The boat never stirred, and stamp as he would, the rope bottom and gunwales resisted firmly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"urged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Climb in it if you like. I have left the two ends of the rope long enough to make oars, if necessary.\"", "start_byte": 101624, "end_byte": 101727, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 360.8850146484375, "cut_end_time": 365.98001464843753, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "With several twists of his hands the rope spun out into the middle air of the room. It moved and twisted like a live thing, and Mr. Wicker, Chris thought, seemed to be drawing the outline of a boat in the air with the moving line. Even as this thought flickered in his mind, the rope formed in mid-air the skeleton of a dingy, and then, mysteriously, the rope added to itself until the bare struts and sides were filled in and there, rocking lightly from the speed of its creation, a small row-boat hovered in the air, as if it were tied up to a dock.\n\n\"Go and feel of it, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker urged. <|quote_start|>\"Climb in it if you like. I have left the two ends of the rope long enough to make oars, if necessary.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris ran over and felt the sides of the boat. It was sound and secure, no doubt of that. He went all around it, pounding its sides, and at last heaved himself over to fall into its center. The boat never stirred, and stamp as he would, the rope bottom and gunwales resisted firmly.\n\n\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!\" Chris exclaimed. \"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!\" and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "narrative_information_pred": {"urged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!", "start_byte": 102013, "end_byte": 102030, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 384.45501098632815, "cut_end_time": 386.07001098632816, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"Climb in it if you like. I have left the two ends of the rope long enough to make oars, if necessary.\"\n\nChris ran over and felt the sides of the boat. It was sound and secure, no doubt of that. He went all around it, pounding its sides, and at last heaved himself over to fall into its center. The boat never stirred, and stamp as he would, the rope bottom and gunwales resisted firmly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!\"<|quote_end|> Chris exclaimed. \"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!\" and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars. \"Even oars!\" Chris cried in delight.\n\nMr. Wicker stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight outlining his black clothes and neat dark head.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, \"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!", "start_byte": 102049, "end_byte": 102103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 387.6249890136719, "cut_end_time": 392.1400515136719, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"Climb in it if you like. I have left the two ends of the rope long enough to make oars, if necessary.\"\n\nChris ran over and felt the sides of the boat. It was sound and secure, no doubt of that. He went all around it, pounding its sides, and at last heaved himself over to fall into its center. The boat never stirred, and stamp as he would, the rope bottom and gunwales resisted firmly.\n\n\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!\" Chris exclaimed. <|quote_start|>\"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!\"<|quote_end|> and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars. \"Even oars!\" Chris cried in delight.\n\nMr. Wicker stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight outlining his black clothes and neat dark head.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, \"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "delight": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Even oars!", "start_byte": 102230, "end_byte": 102241, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 399.5850073242188, "cut_end_time": 400.69000732421875, "narration": {"text": " and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars.", "cut_start_time": 392.6649951171875, "cut_end_time": 399.0201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Chris ran over and felt the sides of the boat. It was sound and secure, no doubt of that. He went all around it, pounding its sides, and at last heaved himself over to fall into its center. The boat never stirred, and stamp as he would, the rope bottom and gunwales resisted firmly.\n\n\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!\" Chris exclaimed. \"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!\" and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars. <|quote_start|>\"Even oars!\"<|quote_end|> Chris cried in delight.\n\nMr. Wicker stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight outlining his black clothes and neat dark head.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, \"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder,\" Mr. Wicker remarked as Chris rejoined him, \"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"\n\nGrasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "delight": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder,", "start_byte": 102423, "end_byte": 102526, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 411.55500244140626, "cut_end_time": 417.63000244140625, "narration": {"text": "Grasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.", "cut_start_time": 424.81499755859375, "cut_end_time": 433.70012255859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"Gee! Mr. Wicker!\" Chris exclaimed. \"This is the best yet -- except for Amos. Golly Moses!\" and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars. \"Even oars!\" Chris cried in delight.\n\nMr. Wicker stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight outlining his black clothes and neat dark head.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, <|quote_start|>\"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker remarked as Chris rejoined him, \"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"\n\nGrasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.\n\n\"Now!\" said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"", "start_byte": 102571, "end_byte": 102622, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 420.80499267578125, "cut_end_time": 424.1400551757813, "narration": {"text": "Grasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.", "cut_start_time": 424.81499755859375, "cut_end_time": 433.70012255859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\" and as he sat down and took up the two loose ends of rope still remaining, he found that he held not rope ends but two oars. \"Even oars!\" Chris cried in delight.\n\nMr. Wicker stood with his hands behind his back, the firelight outlining his black clothes and neat dark head.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, \"Quite so. Now climb out and I will show you some of the other shapes of which it is capable. A ladder,\" Mr. Wicker remarked as Chris rejoined him, <|quote_start|>\"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGrasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.\n\n\"Now!\" said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.\n\n\"It will have to be a small elephant,\" murmured Mr. Wicker, his hands flying, \"because of the size of the room.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"It will have to be a small elephant,", "start_byte": 102932, "end_byte": 102969, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 444.80499755859375, "cut_end_time": 447.07006005859375, "narration": {"text": " said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.", "cut_start_time": 434.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 443.87000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker remarked as Chris rejoined him, \"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"\n\nGrasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.\n\n\"Now!\" said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It will have to be a small elephant,\"<|quote_end|> murmured Mr. Wicker, his hands flying, \"because of the size of the room.\"\n\nThe elephant, like the boat, took shape, the final ends of the rope hanging down at its trunk and tail. After the elephant came a horse, an eagle, and a dolphin, and Chris's admiration and zest to learn the secrets of the rope grew with every change of shape.\n\n\"Very well,\" ended Mr. Wicker, \"you shall learn.\" And placing his hands over Chris's while the boy held the rope, he began slowly to show him the magic twists and turns.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"because of the size of the room.\"", "start_byte": 103010, "end_byte": 103044, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 449.7850061035156, "cut_end_time": 451.20006860351566, "narration": {"text": " said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.", "cut_start_time": 434.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 443.87000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"is almost too simple. We can do that at any time.\"\n\nGrasping the end of one oar, with movements too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, in an instant the boat was a rope again, coiled over Mr. Wicker's arm.\n\n\"Now!\" said Mr. Wicker, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. The rope flew out again, but this time took a strange outline -- the outline of an elephant.\n\n\"It will have to be a small elephant,\" murmured Mr. Wicker, his hands flying, <|quote_start|>\"because of the size of the room.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe elephant, like the boat, took shape, the final ends of the rope hanging down at its trunk and tail. After the elephant came a horse, an eagle, and a dolphin, and Chris's admiration and zest to learn the secrets of the rope grew with every change of shape.\n\n\"Very well,\" ended Mr. Wicker, \"you shall learn.\" And placing his hands over Chris's while the boy held the rope, he began slowly to show him the magic twists and turns.\n\nCHAPTER 12", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_11_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 34}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..ff576fb5b85fb5523fae465eec52717437b8d56d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"what has happened here? You all look angry and somewhat a-frighted. What occurred, Ned?", "start_byte": 119366, "end_byte": 119454, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 63.575000610351566, "cut_end_time": 69.07006311035157, "narration": {"text": "In spite of the pain Chris managed a grin as he took the handkerchief from his chin to bare the deep, cruel cut.", "cut_start_time": 106.77499877929687, "cut_end_time": 111.94006127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Barely were Claggett Chew and Osterbridge Hawsey out of sight, when Chris simultaneously became aware of two things. One was the deep throbbing ache of the whip cut, so painful it made him feel sick and faint, and the second was the black figure of Mr. Wicker. Mr. Wicker was threading his way in and out of the crowds and litter of the wharves, and although to most he might have seemed leisurely, Chris was able to detect in the step of his master a certain haste. He came up to the little group of men, glanced at the back of Zachary Heigh, who was moving away as if to some interrupted duty, and at Chris's white face and the reddening handkerchief which he held to his chin. Mr. Wicker looked slowly at all the faces and then raised his eyebrows as if in surprise.\n\n\"Well, lads,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"what has happened here? You all look angry and somewhat a-frighted. What occurred, Ned?\"<|quote_end|> he asked, addressing Ned Cilley, whose kind face was puckered with sympathy for Chris and who stood pulling at the stocking cap he held in his hands. But Chris spoke up before Ned could reply.\n\n\"It was my fault, sir. I expect I got what I deserved, but it seemed to happen in spite of myself. I laughed at Osterbridge Hawsey's beauty patch -- and at him -- all of him, really. We all did. Claggett Chew got mad, and I guess I wouldn't blame him. It was a dreadful thing to do -- to laugh at someone to their face -- and he lashed out with his whip and gave me a beauty patch!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"But truly sir,", "start_byte": 120148, "end_byte": 120163, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 112.49499694824217, "cut_end_time": 113.55005944824218, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"It was my fault, sir. I expect I got what I deserved, but it seemed to happen in spite of myself. I laughed at Osterbridge Hawsey's beauty patch -- and at him -- all of him, really. We all did. Claggett Chew got mad, and I guess I wouldn't blame him. It was a dreadful thing to do -- to laugh at someone to their face -- and he lashed out with his whip and gave me a beauty patch!\"\n\nIn spite of the pain Chris managed a grin as he took the handkerchief from his chin to bare the deep, cruel cut.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"But truly sir,\"<|quote_end|> he ended, \"I never saw anything like Osterbridge Hawsey before. He's a dilly!\"\n\nAnd before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.", "narrative_information_pred": {"ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"I never saw anything like Osterbridge Hawsey before. He's a dilly!\"", "start_byte": 120175, "end_byte": 120243, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 114.31500366210938, "cut_end_time": 119.26000366210937, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"It was my fault, sir. I expect I got what I deserved, but it seemed to happen in spite of myself. I laughed at Osterbridge Hawsey's beauty patch -- and at him -- all of him, really. We all did. Claggett Chew got mad, and I guess I wouldn't blame him. It was a dreadful thing to do -- to laugh at someone to their face -- and he lashed out with his whip and gave me a beauty patch!\"\n\nIn spite of the pain Chris managed a grin as he took the handkerchief from his chin to bare the deep, cruel cut.\n\n\"But truly sir,\" he ended, <|quote_start|>\"I never saw anything like Osterbridge Hawsey before. He's a dilly!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAnd before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.\n\n\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,\" he said casually, \"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment", "narrative_information_pred": {"ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,", "start_byte": 120588, "end_byte": 120655, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 143.67500427246094, "cut_end_time": 147.02000427246094, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\" he ended, \"I never saw anything like Osterbridge Hawsey before. He's a dilly!\"\n\nAnd before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,\"<|quote_end|> he said casually, \"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.\" Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.\n\n\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,\" he went on, lightly applying the ointment to the wound.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "casually": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.", "start_byte": 120675, "end_byte": 120727, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 148.125, "cut_end_time": 150.7400625, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"I never saw anything like Osterbridge Hawsey before. He's a dilly!\"\n\nAnd before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.\n\n\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,\" he said casually, <|quote_start|>\"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.\"<|quote_end|> Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.\n\n\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,\" he went on, lightly applying the ointment to the wound. \"In an hour you will scarcely know it happened,\" he concluded.\n\nSeeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "casually": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,", "start_byte": 120891, "end_byte": 120936, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 158.74499572753905, "cut_end_time": 161.14012072753906, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "And before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.\n\n\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,\" he said casually, \"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.\" Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker, \"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,\" he went on, lightly applying the ointment to the wound. \"In an hour you will scarcely know it happened,\" he concluded.\n\nSeeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,", "start_byte": 120955, "end_byte": 121000, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 162.1650018310547, "cut_end_time": 164.64006433105467, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "And before they knew it they had all, including even the habitually grave Mr. Wicker, burst into another shout of laughter. Mr. Wicker soon stopped, however, and reached back into the pocket in the flap of his coattails. When he drew out his hand it held a small glass box. With unhurried gestures Mr. Wicker's fine fingers took off the lid.\n\n\"What a fortunate coincidence that I happened by just at this time,\" he said casually, \"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.\" Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.\n\n\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,\" said Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,\"<|quote_end|> he went on, lightly applying the ointment to the wound. \"In an hour you will scarcely know it happened,\" he concluded.\n\nSeeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "lightly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"In an hour you will scarcely know it happened,", "start_byte": 121058, "end_byte": 121105, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 167.7750061035156, "cut_end_time": 170.11006860351563, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\" he said casually, \"and that I have with me such an excellent ointment.\" Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.\n\n\"This will help to stop the bleeding, my boy,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"and take away the pain. It hastens the cure,\" he went on, lightly applying the ointment to the wound. <|quote_start|>\"In an hour you will scarcely know it happened,\"<|quote_end|> he concluded.\n\nSeeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" he said as if to himself,", "narrative_information_pred": {"concluded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.", "start_byte": 121516, "end_byte": 121593, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 192.81499938964842, "cut_end_time": 197.04006188964843, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\" he concluded.\n\nSeeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" he said as if to himself, <|quote_start|>\"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\"<|quote_end|> He laid his hand on Chris's arm. \"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"", "start_byte": 121628, "end_byte": 121825, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 200.2050067138672, "cut_end_time": 213.0600692138672, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Seeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" he said as if to himself, \"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\" He laid his hand on Chris's arm. <|quote_start|>\"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laid": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"I know that now sir,", "start_byte": 121843, "end_byte": 121864, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 214.65500183105468, "cut_end_time": 215.9800018310547, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Seeing the color seep back into Chris's cheeks, the men touched their caps to Mr. Wicker and went back to their interrupted tasks. Ned Cilley, with his hand on Amos's shoulder, moved off to point out some detail of the Mirabelle, and Chris and Mr. Wicker were left alone. Mr. Wicker looked down kindly at the boy, but there was a sadness also in his face.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" he said as if to himself, \"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\" He laid his hand on Chris's arm. \"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I know that now sir,\"<|quote_end|> Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "solemnly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"I asked for trouble that time.\"", "start_byte": 121890, "end_byte": 121922, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 217.85499450683594, "cut_end_time": 219.63005700683593, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Perhaps,\" he said as if to himself, \"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\" He laid his hand on Chris's arm. \"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. <|quote_start|>\"I asked for trouble that time.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "solemnly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Yes,", "start_byte": 121924, "end_byte": 121929, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 220.96499938964843, "cut_end_time": 222.08012438964843, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\" He laid his hand on Chris's arm. \"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes,\"<|quote_end|> agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "tired": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"You did. Too bad,", "start_byte": 121967, "end_byte": 121985, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 224.63499755859374, "cut_end_time": 226.80006005859374, "narration": {"text": " Master and pupil looked at one another for a moment, and there was the hint of a wink in Mr. Wicker's right eye, and the vestige of an answer from Chris's left.", "cut_start_time": 151.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 158.02000183105469, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"I have set you too great a task, my poor Christopher, for you are but a boy.\" He laid his hand on Chris's arm. \"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, <|quote_start|>\"You did. Too bad,\"<|quote_end|> he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said. \"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"\n\n\"Poisoned wound, sir", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.", "start_byte": 122060, "end_byte": 122201, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 230.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 238.8700673828125, "narration": {"text": " he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face.", "cut_start_time": 227.5149932861328, "cut_end_time": 230.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"You are a boy, but what lies before you is a man's task, and no mistake. You cannot in the future allow yourself the luxury of such childish enjoyments as a laugh at Claggett Chew, or his friend!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. <|quote_start|>\"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said. \"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"\n\n\"Poisoned wound, sir?\" Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. \"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,", "start_byte": 122262, "end_byte": 122338, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 242.51499389648436, "cut_end_time": 246.94005639648438, "narration": {"text": " he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face.", "cut_start_time": 227.5149932861328, "cut_end_time": 230.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"I know that now sir,\" Chris replied solemnly. \"I asked for trouble that time.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. <|quote_start|>\"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"\n\n\"Poisoned wound, sir?\" Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. \"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"", "start_byte": 122349, "end_byte": 122408, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 247.85499938964844, "cut_end_time": 250.48006188964843, "narration": {"text": " he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face.", "cut_start_time": 227.5149932861328, "cut_end_time": 230.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\" agreed Mr. Wicker in a tired voice, \"You did. Too bad,\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Poisoned wound, sir?\" Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. \"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Poisoned wound, sir?", "start_byte": 122410, "end_byte": 122431, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 251.20499999999998, "cut_end_time": 252.89, "narration": {"text": " he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face.", "cut_start_time": 227.5149932861328, "cut_end_time": 230.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\" he added, and Chris saw fatigue for the first time in his master's face. \"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said. \"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Poisoned wound, sir?\"<|quote_end|> Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. \"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance, \"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,", "start_byte": 122534, "end_byte": 122798, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 260.46500976562504, "cut_end_time": 279.760072265625, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"The laughter you could not resist has meant that you came forcibly to Claggett Chew's notice in such a way that you will never be forgotten.\" Mr. Wicker looked from some distant horizon back to Chris. \"I saw it happening while I was in my study, but could not warn you in time,\" he said. \"So I came down with the ointment for your poisoned wound.\"\n\n\"Poisoned wound, sir?\" Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. <|quote_start|>\"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\"<|quote_end|> he said smiling his reassurance, \"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "smiling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,", "start_byte": 122833, "end_byte": 122987, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 281.6249890136719, "cut_end_time": 290.5401140136719, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"Poisoned wound, sir?\" Chris whispered, suddenly feeling much worse than he had before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMr. Wicker sighed. \"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance, <|quote_start|>\"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well", "start_byte": 123006, "end_byte": 123033, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 292.01500000000004, "cut_end_time": 295.09000000000003, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance, \"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\"<|quote_end|> -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket, \"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"", "start_byte": 123079, "end_byte": 123173, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.6149853515625, "cut_end_time": 302.7500478515625, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance, \"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- <|quote_start|>\"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket, \"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"\n\nAlthough Chris would have liked to investigate all the wharves and see as many of the vessels as he could, he understood the warning given him by Mr. Wicker. So with Amos he moved away from the scenes he preferred, taking the first road he saw leading off Water Street.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"I shall, sir!", "start_byte": 123175, "end_byte": 123189, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 303.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 304.46005761718754, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes. Sometimes Mr. Chew has a way of wiping poison onto the metal tip of his whip. It is a slow poison -- it does not take effect for days or weeks. In fact, so long after his lash that no one attributes the whip cut to the death that finally follows. Never fear,\" he said smiling his reassurance, \"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I shall, sir!\"<|quote_end|> Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket, \"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"\n\nAlthough Chris would have liked to investigate all the wharves and see as many of the vessels as he could, he understood the warning given him by Mr. Wicker. So with Amos he moved away from the scenes he preferred, taking the first road he saw leading off Water Street.", "narrative_information_pred": {"assured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,", "start_byte": 123237, "end_byte": 123281, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 308.7749975585938, "cut_end_time": 310.96012255859375, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket, \"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"\n\nAlthough Chris would have liked to investigate all the wharves and see as many of the vessels as he could, he understood the warning given him by Mr. Wicker. So with Amos he moved away from the scenes he preferred, taking the first road he saw leading off Water Street.", "narrative_information_pred": {"urged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,", "start_byte": 123301, "end_byte": 123366, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 312.4150073242188, "cut_end_time": 316.0500698242188, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"the ointment I have put on will take care of that too, and your cut will be closed and healed before the day is over. What is unfortunately more lasting,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. <|quote_start|>\"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\"<|quote_end|> he said putting his hand in his pocket, \"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"\n\nAlthough Chris would have liked to investigate all the wharves and see as many of the vessels as he could, he understood the warning given him by Mr. Wicker. So with Amos he moved away from the scenes he preferred, taking the first road he saw leading off Water Street.\n\nM Street was, for Chris, completely unrecognizable. It was merely a broad unpaved road in what seemed, at best, a country town. Groves of old trees, pasture lands and orchards of large size surrounded the few houses. It was hard for Chris to realize that this was the core of the capital of the vast and teeming country into which he had been born.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"", "start_byte": 123408, "end_byte": 123496, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 318.19498657226563, "cut_end_time": 322.0501115722656, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"is Mr. Chew's memory. Well\" -- and Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders -- \"there's no help for what is done. Use caution in the future, Christopher. That is all I ask.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.\n\n\"Enjoy yourself the rest of the day, my boy,\" Mr. Wicker urged. \"But be constantly on the alert and look in all directions. Here,\" he said putting his hand in his pocket, <|quote_start|>\"take these few coins in case you should need them. Now find Amos, and be off with you!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAlthough Chris would have liked to investigate all the wharves and see as many of the vessels as he could, he understood the warning given him by Mr. Wicker. So with Amos he moved away from the scenes he preferred, taking the first road he saw leading off Water Street.\n\nM Street was, for Chris, completely unrecognizable. It was merely a broad unpaved road in what seemed, at best, a country town. Groves of old trees, pasture lands and orchards of large size surrounded the few houses. It was hard for Chris to realize that this was the core of the capital of the vast and teeming country into which he had been born.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"What you-all looking for?", "start_byte": 125159, "end_byte": 125185, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 418.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 420.47006860351564, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "The boys walked to the bank above the park and looked down. The broad asphalt traffic lanes were gone, and so was the tidiness of the park lawns. Below him, Chris saw the tangled thick forests that had always stood there. The creek itself, in the quiet of this earlier time, could be plainly heard running over its stones.\n\nChris turned and led Amos to where he half expected to see his mother's house. But where his house would stand in some future year, nothing was to be seen but a dense grove of trees growing along the top of a little rise of ground. Someone had once built a fire at the corner, where his front door would one day be. Chris kicked idly at the ashes and picked up a metal button blackened by the fire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What you-all looking for?\"<|quote_end|> patient Amos asked.\n\n\"Just something I hoped I'd find,\" Chris answered, filled with a sense of desolation.\n\nThen he made himself remember that his house had yet to be built, and aware of the hollowness of his stomach, he said to Amos: \"Must be lunch time. Let's go down to the creek to eat.\"\n\nThey scrambled down the bank near where, in his time, there was a children's playground, and weaving in and out of the thick wood, found the creek, clear and fresh. Here they ate their lunch, and then, running and leaping, followed the turns of the stream until they neared the marshes and the river.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Just something I hoped I'd find,", "start_byte": 125208, "end_byte": 125241, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 422.42500732421877, "cut_end_time": 424.3300073242188, "narration": {"text": " Chris assured him. They turned to join Amos.", "cut_start_time": 305.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 308.45005395507815, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Chris turned and led Amos to where he half expected to see his mother's house. But where his house would stand in some future year, nothing was to be seen but a dense grove of trees growing along the top of a little rise of ground. Someone had once built a fire at the corner, where his front door would one day be. Chris kicked idly at the ashes and picked up a metal button blackened by the fire.\n\n\"What you-all looking for?\" patient Amos asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Just something I hoped I'd find,\"<|quote_end|> Chris answered, filled with a sense of desolation.\n\nThen he made himself remember that his house had yet to be built, and aware of the hollowness of his stomach, he said to Amos: \"Must be lunch time. Let's go down to the creek to eat.\"\n\nThey scrambled down the bank near where, in his time, there was a children's playground, and weaving in and out of the thick wood, found the creek, clear and fresh. Here they ate their lunch, and then, running and leaping, followed the turns of the stream until they neared the marshes and the river.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_14_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 30}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6e2e1899f43b21add8786837077bb9d2277271e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Let's climb up a little above them,", "start_byte": 126124, "end_byte": 126160, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 32.894998474121095, "cut_end_time": 34.85006097412109, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "They scrambled down the bank near where, in his time, there was a children's playground, and weaving in and out of the thick wood, found the creek, clear and fresh. Here they ate their lunch, and then, running and leaping, followed the turns of the stream until they neared the marshes and the river.\n\nCHAPTER 15\n\nThe two boys came out toward the mouth of Rock Creek and as the woods thinned, they saw ahead of them a sandy sloping bank on which a small boat was drawn up. Around the coals of a fire nearby, three men were crouching. Remembering Mr. Wicker's warning to be cautious, Chris put out a hand to touch Amos and the two stood still.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let's climb up a little above them,\"<|quote_end|> Chris suggested. \"We're beyond the bridge -- they might be -- well, we'd better be careful. I want to see what they're doing before they see us.\"\n\nAmos agreeing, the two boys, with extra care for rattling twigs, moved stealthily up the banks of the Potomac that rose with increasing steepness. The men, who were huddled near their fire now, came directly into their view below, and Chris and Amos could see that they were playing cards. One seemed to be losing to the other two. He had piled a heap of his small possessions in front of him on the sand, in lieu of money.", "narrative_information_pred": {"suggested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"We're beyond the bridge -- they might be -- well, we'd better be careful. I want to see what they're doing before they see us.\"", "start_byte": 126179, "end_byte": 126307, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 36.035001068115236, "cut_end_time": 44.26000106811524, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "They scrambled down the bank near where, in his time, there was a children's playground, and weaving in and out of the thick wood, found the creek, clear and fresh. Here they ate their lunch, and then, running and leaping, followed the turns of the stream until they neared the marshes and the river.\n\nCHAPTER 15\n\nThe two boys came out toward the mouth of Rock Creek and as the woods thinned, they saw ahead of them a sandy sloping bank on which a small boat was drawn up. Around the coals of a fire nearby, three men were crouching. Remembering Mr. Wicker's warning to be cautious, Chris put out a hand to touch Amos and the two stood still.\n\n\"Let's climb up a little above them,\" Chris suggested. <|quote_start|>\"We're beyond the bridge -- they might be -- well, we'd better be careful. I want to see what they're doing before they see us.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos agreeing, the two boys, with extra care for rattling twigs, moved stealthily up the banks of the Potomac that rose with increasing steepness. The men, who were huddled near their fire now, came directly into their view below, and Chris and Amos could see that they were playing cards. One seemed to be losing to the other two. He had piled a heap of his small possessions in front of him on the sand, in lieu of money.\n\n[Illustration]", "narrative_information_pred": {"suggested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Come now, Gosler!", "start_byte": 126993, "end_byte": 127011, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 85.73499938964844, "cut_end_time": 87.26012438964842, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Amos agreeing, the two boys, with extra care for rattling twigs, moved stealthily up the banks of the Potomac that rose with increasing steepness. The men, who were huddled near their fire now, came directly into their view below, and Chris and Amos could see that they were playing cards. One seemed to be losing to the other two. He had piled a heap of his small possessions in front of him on the sand, in lieu of money.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Come now, Gosler!\"<|quote_end|> they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, \"Pay up -- you've lost!\"\n\n\"I've no money to pay you,\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you", "narrative_information_pred": {"heard": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Pay up -- you've lost!\"", "start_byte": 127061, "end_byte": 127085, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 89.81500213623046, "cut_end_time": 91.39000213623046, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Amos agreeing, the two boys, with extra care for rattling twigs, moved stealthily up the banks of the Potomac that rose with increasing steepness. The men, who were huddled near their fire now, came directly into their view below, and Chris and Amos could see that they were playing cards. One seemed to be losing to the other two. He had piled a heap of his small possessions in front of him on the sand, in lieu of money.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n\"Come now, Gosler!\" they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, <|quote_start|>\"Pay up -- you've lost!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I've no money to pay you,\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "narrative_information_pred": {"heard": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"I've no money to pay you,", "start_byte": 127087, "end_byte": 127113, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 92.32499999999999, "cut_end_time": 95.48006249999999, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Amos agreeing, the two boys, with extra care for rattling twigs, moved stealthily up the banks of the Potomac that rose with increasing steepness. The men, who were huddled near their fire now, came directly into their view below, and Chris and Amos could see that they were playing cards. One seemed to be losing to the other two. He had piled a heap of his small possessions in front of him on the sand, in lieu of money.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n\"Come now, Gosler!\" they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, \"Pay up -- you've lost!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I've no money to pay you,\"<|quote_end|> complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler", "narrative_information_pred": {"complained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"", "start_byte": 127156, "end_byte": 127231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 97.86499725341797, "cut_end_time": 107.07005975341796, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "They were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n\"Come now, Gosler!\" they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, \"Pay up -- you've lost!\"\n\n\"I've no money to pay you,\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. <|quote_start|>\"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "narrative_information_pred": {"complained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Ah -- none o' that!", "start_byte": 127233, "end_byte": 127253, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 107.61499755859374, "cut_end_time": 110.31012255859375, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "They were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n\"Come now, Gosler!\" they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, \"Pay up -- you've lost!\"\n\n\"I've no money to pay you,\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah -- none o' that!\"<|quote_end|> cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,", "start_byte": 127281, "end_byte": 127410, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 111.32499877929686, "cut_end_time": 119.78006127929687, "narration": {"text": " he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.", "cut_start_time": 120.52499786376953, "cut_end_time": 124.13012286376953, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "They were certainly a villainous-looking trio. The boys could hear some of their exclamations, and it was with a mingled feeling of curiosity and uneasiness that Chris recognized the losing gambler to be Simon Gosler, the humpbacked cripple.\n\n\"Come now, Gosler!\" they heard one of the men cry out in annoyance, \"Pay up -- you've lost!\"\n\n\"I've no money to pay you,\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. <|quote_start|>\"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\"<|quote_end|> he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"rasped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?", "start_byte": 127477, "end_byte": 127523, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 125.31500183105469, "cut_end_time": 129.32000183105467, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\" complained the sly voice of the cripple. \"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\"<|quote_end|> urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"\n\n\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\" snarled the first gambler, \"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"urged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!", "start_byte": 127546, "end_byte": 127601, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 132.285, "cut_end_time": 135.04999999999998, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"I'm a poor man -- well you know it. A cripple -- just a poor old cripple!\"\n\n\"Ah -- none o' that!\" cut in the second winner. \"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. <|quote_start|>\"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\"<|quote_end|> he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"\n\n\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\" snarled the first gambler, \"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"sneered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"No, no, good fellows,", "start_byte": 127716, "end_byte": 127738, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.57499572753906, "cut_end_time": 146.14005822753904, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, no, good fellows,\"<|quote_end|> he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"\n\n\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\" snarled the first gambler, \"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"\n\nThe two gamblers rose menacingly and moved away to put their boat into the stream. Simon Gosler was left mumbling and sniveling and fingering his coat pocket, in which he kept his glass. Chris, watching him, had a sudden inspiration and whispered to Amos.", "narrative_information_pred": {"moaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"", "start_byte": 127751, "end_byte": 127863, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 146.73499450683593, "cut_end_time": 155.38011950683594, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"We know how well you do at your begging -- more in a day than we get in a month's pay. Pay up now, or it won't go well with you,\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, <|quote_start|>\"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\" snarled the first gambler, \"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"\n\nThe two gamblers rose menacingly and moved away to put their boat into the stream. Simon Gosler was left mumbling and sniveling and fingering his coat pocket, in which he kept his glass. Chris, watching him, had a sudden inspiration and whispered to Amos.", "narrative_information_pred": {"moaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!", "start_byte": 127865, "end_byte": 127909, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 156.15500671386718, "cut_end_time": 158.79000671386717, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" he rasped out, laying his hand on a dagger stuck into his belt.\n\n\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\"<|quote_end|> snarled the first gambler, \"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"\n\nThe two gamblers rose menacingly and moved away to put their boat into the stream. Simon Gosler was left mumbling and sniveling and fingering his coat pocket, in which he kept his glass. Chris, watching him, had a sudden inspiration and whispered to Amos.", "narrative_information_pred": {"snarled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"", "start_byte": 127938, "end_byte": 128137, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 160.99499633789063, "cut_end_time": 173.6001213378906, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"What about your glass, your spyglass, Gosler?\" urged the first man. \"Put that up and it will cover your losses well enough!\" he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.\n\n\"No, no, good fellows,\" he moaned, \"not my glass. I won that from the Captain himself three years ago, and that I never shall part from willingly.\"\n\n\"You'd part from it for silver quick enough!\" snarled the first gambler, <|quote_start|>\"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe two gamblers rose menacingly and moved away to put their boat into the stream. Simon Gosler was left mumbling and sniveling and fingering his coat pocket, in which he kept his glass. Chris, watching him, had a sudden inspiration and whispered to Amos. \"Hide here behind those bushes and don't follow me. Don't move or show yourself. I'm going to have that glass.\"\n\nSo saying he moved carefully back until he was out of sight of Amos, and then, for the first time on his own, he tried a change of shape. Choosing a broad flat stone at the edge of the shrubbery and safely removed from the sight of the two winners, he changed himself into a silver coin and allowed himself to drop with a sweet metallic ring on the stone, waiting winking in the sun for Simon Gosler. The old cripple saw the coin before it had bounced twice on the stone, and with a quick sly look over his shoulder at the backs of his companions as they pushed at the boat, hoisted himself up on his crutch and began hobbling over toward his find.", "narrative_information_pred": {"snarled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Hide here behind those bushes and don't follow me. Don't move or show yourself. I'm going to have that glass.\"", "start_byte": 128395, "end_byte": 128506, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 189.93499633789062, "cut_end_time": 197.6200588378906, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"and of that you must have plenty, for 'tis rare you ever lose. Come now, we'll give you a few minutes more to make up your mind, but make it up you must. Either the glass or silver, you may choose.\"\n\nThe two gamblers rose menacingly and moved away to put their boat into the stream. Simon Gosler was left mumbling and sniveling and fingering his coat pocket, in which he kept his glass. Chris, watching him, had a sudden inspiration and whispered to Amos. <|quote_start|>\"Hide here behind those bushes and don't follow me. Don't move or show yourself. I'm going to have that glass.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSo saying he moved carefully back until he was out of sight of Amos, and then, for the first time on his own, he tried a change of shape. Choosing a broad flat stone at the edge of the shrubbery and safely removed from the sight of the two winners, he changed himself into a silver coin and allowed himself to drop with a sweet metallic ring on the stone, waiting winking in the sun for Simon Gosler. The old cripple saw the coin before it had bounced twice on the stone, and with a quick sly look over his shoulder at the backs of his companions as they pushed at the boat, hoisted himself up on his crutch and began hobbling over toward his find.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"I've heard what went on, Simon Gosler,", "start_byte": 129364, "end_byte": 129403, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 250.03500122070312, "cut_end_time": 253.06000122070313, "narration": {"text": " he sneered, but Simon Gosler hugged his coat to him and looked from side to side searching for a way of escape.", "cut_start_time": 135.54499389648436, "cut_end_time": 141.83005639648437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "So saying he moved carefully back until he was out of sight of Amos, and then, for the first time on his own, he tried a change of shape. Choosing a broad flat stone at the edge of the shrubbery and safely removed from the sight of the two winners, he changed himself into a silver coin and allowed himself to drop with a sweet metallic ring on the stone, waiting winking in the sun for Simon Gosler. The old cripple saw the coin before it had bounced twice on the stone, and with a quick sly look over his shoulder at the backs of his companions as they pushed at the boat, hoisted himself up on his crutch and began hobbling over toward his find.\n\nBut instead of a coin, he found only a resolute boy awaiting him, tossing and catching a silver piece. It was one of those Mr. Wicker had given Chris but an hour before. He looked Simon Gosler in the eye.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I've heard what went on, Simon Gosler,\"<|quote_end|> said Chris, his eyes on a level with the rheumy watering eyes of the cripple, \"and if you will sell your spyglass to me, I'll buy it off you with this silver piece. Otherwise you shall not have it.\"\n\nSimon Gosler's eyes dripped tears of greed at the sight of the coin, and then another expression washed over them. Fast as he was and fast as was his movement, Chris was faster. As the old beggar braced himself and brought the head of his crutch down where Chris's head should have been, someone from behind dealt him a staggering blow with a sizable club, and yet when he turned around no one was there. When he faced about again, rubbing his head and whimpering with rage and frustration, he found himself once more facing the boy who was tossing and catching, tossing and catching, the round silver coin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"and if you will sell your spyglass to me, I'll buy it off you with this silver piece. Otherwise you shall not have it.\"", "start_byte": 129483, "end_byte": 129603, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 258.2150134277344, "cut_end_time": 265.2900759277344, "narration": {"text": "Chris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece.", "cut_start_time": 300.5449951171875, "cut_end_time": 308.5100576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "So saying he moved carefully back until he was out of sight of Amos, and then, for the first time on his own, he tried a change of shape. Choosing a broad flat stone at the edge of the shrubbery and safely removed from the sight of the two winners, he changed himself into a silver coin and allowed himself to drop with a sweet metallic ring on the stone, waiting winking in the sun for Simon Gosler. The old cripple saw the coin before it had bounced twice on the stone, and with a quick sly look over his shoulder at the backs of his companions as they pushed at the boat, hoisted himself up on his crutch and began hobbling over toward his find.\n\nBut instead of a coin, he found only a resolute boy awaiting him, tossing and catching a silver piece. It was one of those Mr. Wicker had given Chris but an hour before. He looked Simon Gosler in the eye.\n\n\"I've heard what went on, Simon Gosler,\" said Chris, his eyes on a level with the rheumy watering eyes of the cripple, <|quote_start|>\"and if you will sell your spyglass to me, I'll buy it off you with this silver piece. Otherwise you shall not have it.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSimon Gosler's eyes dripped tears of greed at the sight of the coin, and then another expression washed over them. Fast as he was and fast as was his movement, Chris was faster. As the old beggar braced himself and brought the head of his crutch down where Chris's head should have been, someone from behind dealt him a staggering blow with a sizable club, and yet when he turned around no one was there. When he faced about again, rubbing his head and whimpering with rage and frustration, he found himself once more facing the boy who was tossing and catching, tossing and catching, the round silver coin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Well, you old villain,", "start_byte": 130345, "end_byte": 130368, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 309.185, "cut_end_time": 310.8300625, "narration": {"text": "Chris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece.", "cut_start_time": 300.5449951171875, "cut_end_time": 308.5100576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Simon Gosler's eyes dripped tears of greed at the sight of the coin, and then another expression washed over them. Fast as he was and fast as was his movement, Chris was faster. As the old beggar braced himself and brought the head of his crutch down where Chris's head should have been, someone from behind dealt him a staggering blow with a sizable club, and yet when he turned around no one was there. When he faced about again, rubbing his head and whimpering with rage and frustration, he found himself once more facing the boy who was tossing and catching, tossing and catching, the round silver coin.\n\nChris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece. <|quote_start|>\"Well, you old villain,\"<|quote_end|> he challenged, \"will you take the coin in fair exchange, or shall I hit you again with that club you just felt?\" he asked. \"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\" he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke.", "narrative_information_pred": {"challenged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"will you take the coin in fair exchange, or shall I hit you again with that club you just felt?", "start_byte": 130385, "end_byte": 130481, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 311.83500976562505, "cut_end_time": 316.310072265625, "narration": {"text": "Chris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece.", "cut_start_time": 300.5449951171875, "cut_end_time": 308.5100576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Simon Gosler's eyes dripped tears of greed at the sight of the coin, and then another expression washed over them. Fast as he was and fast as was his movement, Chris was faster. As the old beggar braced himself and brought the head of his crutch down where Chris's head should have been, someone from behind dealt him a staggering blow with a sizable club, and yet when he turned around no one was there. When he faced about again, rubbing his head and whimpering with rage and frustration, he found himself once more facing the boy who was tossing and catching, tossing and catching, the round silver coin.\n\nChris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece. \"Well, you old villain,\" he challenged, <|quote_start|>\"will you take the coin in fair exchange, or shall I hit you again with that club you just felt?\"<|quote_end|> he asked. \"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\" he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke. \"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!\" and he stretched out a dirty claw.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,", "start_byte": 130493, "end_byte": 130679, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 318.6749938964844, "cut_end_time": 328.2600563964844, "narration": {"text": "Chris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece.", "cut_start_time": 300.5449951171875, "cut_end_time": 308.5100576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Simon Gosler's eyes dripped tears of greed at the sight of the coin, and then another expression washed over them. Fast as he was and fast as was his movement, Chris was faster. As the old beggar braced himself and brought the head of his crutch down where Chris's head should have been, someone from behind dealt him a staggering blow with a sizable club, and yet when he turned around no one was there. When he faced about again, rubbing his head and whimpering with rage and frustration, he found himself once more facing the boy who was tossing and catching, tossing and catching, the round silver coin.\n\nChris stood with his legs apart, his head back, his eyes full of scorn. His hand did not cease to toss and catch the silver piece. \"Well, you old villain,\" he challenged, \"will you take the coin in fair exchange, or shall I hit you again with that club you just felt?\" he asked. <|quote_start|>\"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\"<|quote_end|> he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke. \"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!\" and he stretched out a dirty claw.\n\n\"Oh no!\" Chris shook his head decisively. \"No indeed! You put the glass down between us -- carefully, mind you -- and back away. I'll throw you the coin when I've seen if the glass is worth the silver!\"\n\nMumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!", "start_byte": 130769, "end_byte": 130839, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 333.0250085449219, "cut_end_time": 340.3700710449219, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\" he challenged, \"will you take the coin in fair exchange, or shall I hit you again with that club you just felt?\" he asked. \"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\" he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke. <|quote_start|>\"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!\"<|quote_end|> and he stretched out a dirty claw.\n\n\"Oh no!\" Chris shook his head decisively. \"No indeed! You put the glass down between us -- carefully, mind you -- and back away. I'll throw you the coin when I've seen if the glass is worth the silver!\"\n\nMumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Oh no!", "start_byte": 130877, "end_byte": 130884, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 343.87501098632816, "cut_end_time": 345.13001098632816, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\" he asked. \"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\" he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke. \"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!\" and he stretched out a dirty claw.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh no!\"<|quote_end|> Chris shook his head decisively. \"No indeed! You put the glass down between us -- carefully, mind you -- and back away. I'll throw you the coin when I've seen if the glass is worth the silver!\"\n\nMumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"No indeed! You put the glass down between us -- carefully, mind you -- and back away. I'll throw you the coin when I've seen if the glass is worth the silver!\"", "start_byte": 130919, "end_byte": 131079, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 347.57500610351565, "cut_end_time": 357.7900061035156, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"It doesn't feel the same when you get it back as when you give it out, does it, you old faker? Hurry up -- your friends will soon be coming back, and I don't think they intend to argue,\" he added.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nGosler, still rubbing his head and muttering, finally spoke. \"Very well, you nasty young man, I'll sell my glass. Give me the coin!\" and he stretched out a dirty claw.\n\n\"Oh no!\" Chris shook his head decisively. <|quote_start|>\"No indeed! You put the glass down between us -- carefully, mind you -- and back away. I'll throw you the coin when I've seen if the glass is worth the silver!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"We got us a spyglass!\"", "start_byte": 131734, "end_byte": 131757, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 398.90498779296877, "cut_end_time": 400.33011279296875, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Mumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Gee, Chris!\" Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech, <|quote_start|>\"We got us a spyglass!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"We sure have!\" Chris agreed, \"And it's a fine one -- best I ever saw,\" he said. \"Here, try it out over the river there, where that ship is anchored.\"\n\nAmos pointed the glass through the shrubs toward a distant ship that swung at anchor close to the shore, and while he tried out their prize, Chris watched the departure of the three gamblers. Gosler had evidently paid up while Chris was returning to their hidden perch, for he was now hustled into the boat by the other two. Soon the three were far down the stream and their boat was moving into the main flow of the river.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"And it's a fine one -- best I ever saw,", "start_byte": 131789, "end_byte": 131829, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 403.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 406.11012011718753, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Mumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Gee, Chris!\" Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech, \"We got us a spyglass!\"\n\n\"We sure have!\" Chris agreed, <|quote_start|>\"And it's a fine one -- best I ever saw,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"Here, try it out over the river there, where that ship is anchored.\"\n\nAmos pointed the glass through the shrubs toward a distant ship that swung at anchor close to the shore, and while he tried out their prize, Chris watched the departure of the three gamblers. Gosler had evidently paid up while Chris was returning to their hidden perch, for he was now hustled into the boat by the other two. Soon the three were far down the stream and their boat was moving into the main flow of the river.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Here, try it out over the river there, where that ship is anchored.\"", "start_byte": 131840, "end_byte": 131909, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 407.2950122070313, "cut_end_time": 411.1800747070313, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Mumbling to himself, Simon Gosler did as he was told. He reached back in his coat pocket to draw out a small spyglass, which he laid down on the ground. He then backed away. Chris picked up and examined the glass, tested it, and then just as the two gamblers came back up the riverbank, tossed the silver piece to the beggar. Gosler caught it in mid-air with the dexterity of years of practice. In an instant Chris had vanished into the thick shade of the wood, and going as fast but as quietly as he could, regained the place where Amos waited for him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Gee, Chris!\" Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech, \"We got us a spyglass!\"\n\n\"We sure have!\" Chris agreed, \"And it's a fine one -- best I ever saw,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"Here, try it out over the river there, where that ship is anchored.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos pointed the glass through the shrubs toward a distant ship that swung at anchor close to the shore, and while he tried out their prize, Chris watched the departure of the three gamblers. Gosler had evidently paid up while Chris was returning to their hidden perch, for he was now hustled into the boat by the other two. Soon the three were far down the stream and their boat was moving into the main flow of the river.\n\n\"Here,\" Amos said passing back the glass,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"you look. That's a mighty fine ship out there, black as the Mirabelle is white, but she looks fast and strong just the same.\"", "start_byte": 132378, "end_byte": 132504, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 439.7049975585938, "cut_end_time": 446.3600600585938, "narration": {"text": " Amos exclaimed, for he had caught all Chris's expression of speech,", "cut_start_time": 395.36498657226565, "cut_end_time": 398.84004907226563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Amos pointed the glass through the shrubs toward a distant ship that swung at anchor close to the shore, and while he tried out their prize, Chris watched the departure of the three gamblers. Gosler had evidently paid up while Chris was returning to their hidden perch, for he was now hustled into the boat by the other two. Soon the three were far down the stream and their boat was moving into the main flow of the river.\n\n\"Here,\" Amos said passing back the glass, <|quote_start|>\"you look. That's a mighty fine ship out there, black as the Mirabelle is white, but she looks fast and strong just the same.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBut Chris, taking the glass, was idly following the progress of the three men. Gosler, lost in gloom, sat in the stern hugging his rags about him. The other two bent their backs to the oars and headed straight for the anchored ship.\n\nTurning the glass to the brig Chris hunted for the name as the prow swung about. Through the glass the letters, gold on the black-painted side, leapt at his eye across the distance. Venture, Chris read, and with a beating heart he saw his adversary's ship for the first time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "passing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_15_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 29}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..040fec3ec1f30f4f33ba234f2563dddcfc3ba859
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Show them in, Becky,", "start_byte": 140033, "end_byte": 140054, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 27.255000915527344, "cut_end_time": 28.590063415527347, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat.", "cut_start_time": 81.7549996948242, "cut_end_time": 85.50012469482421, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "[Illustration]\n\nLong after dark, cold, dirty, and quite wet, the two boys reached the house on Water Street.\n\n\"Where did you go?\" Becky inquired, frowning with solicitude at the bedraggled pair.\n\n\"Oh, no place much,\" Chris answered, yawning.\n\nCHAPTER 17\n\nThe following morning while Chris was telling Mr. Wicker of the ammunition being loaded on the Venture, Becky Boozer announced a visit from Captain Blizzard and Elisha Finney.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Show them in, Becky,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker told her. To Chris he said, \"I wonder what brings them here so early? It must be a matter of some importance. Stay with me, Christopher. I shall present you to the Captain.\"\n\nThe extraordinary pair came in and Chris was introduced to Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney. The Captain was all smiles except for his eyes; Chris noted that his eyes did not smile at all. Mr. Finney, true to form, cast down his eyes, sighed, and let the corners of his wide thin lips droop almost to his chin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"I wonder what brings them here so early? It must be a matter of some importance. Stay with me, Christopher. I shall present you to the Captain.\"", "start_byte": 140095, "end_byte": 140240, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 31.03499908447266, "cut_end_time": 38.570061584472654, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat.", "cut_start_time": 81.7549996948242, "cut_end_time": 85.50012469482421, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Long after dark, cold, dirty, and quite wet, the two boys reached the house on Water Street.\n\n\"Where did you go?\" Becky inquired, frowning with solicitude at the bedraggled pair.\n\n\"Oh, no place much,\" Chris answered, yawning.\n\nCHAPTER 17\n\nThe following morning while Chris was telling Mr. Wicker of the ammunition being loaded on the Venture, Becky Boozer announced a visit from Captain Blizzard and Elisha Finney.\n\n\"Show them in, Becky,\" Mr. Wicker told her. To Chris he said, <|quote_start|>\"I wonder what brings them here so early? It must be a matter of some importance. Stay with me, Christopher. I shall present you to the Captain.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe extraordinary pair came in and Chris was introduced to Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney. The Captain was all smiles except for his eyes; Chris noted that his eyes did not smile at all. Mr. Finney, true to form, cast down his eyes, sighed, and let the corners of his wide thin lips droop almost to his chin.\n\nWhen a chair large enough and solid enough had been found for Captain Blizzard, and Becky had brought in a decanter of sherry and glasses to set before the visitors, Chris shut the study door and sat down on the floor where he could observe the three faces before him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Well, Captain, what brings you here so betimes? No trouble of any kind, I trust?\"", "start_byte": 140848, "end_byte": 140930, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 75.7249984741211, "cut_end_time": 80.87006097412109, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat.", "cut_start_time": 81.7549996948242, "cut_end_time": 85.50012469482421, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "The extraordinary pair came in and Chris was introduced to Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney. The Captain was all smiles except for his eyes; Chris noted that his eyes did not smile at all. Mr. Finney, true to form, cast down his eyes, sighed, and let the corners of his wide thin lips droop almost to his chin.\n\nWhen a chair large enough and solid enough had been found for Captain Blizzard, and Becky had brought in a decanter of sherry and glasses to set before the visitors, Chris shut the study door and sat down on the floor where he could observe the three faces before him.\n\nMr. Wicker spoke first.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Well, Captain, what brings you here so betimes? No trouble of any kind, I trust?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nCaptain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat. \"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.\" He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. \"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.", "start_byte": 141002, "end_byte": 141183, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 86.37500366210936, "cut_end_time": 97.15006616210937, "narration": {"text": " He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation.", "cut_start_time": 98.1350030517578, "cut_end_time": 102.54000305175781, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "The extraordinary pair came in and Chris was introduced to Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney. The Captain was all smiles except for his eyes; Chris noted that his eyes did not smile at all. Mr. Finney, true to form, cast down his eyes, sighed, and let the corners of his wide thin lips droop almost to his chin.\n\nWhen a chair large enough and solid enough had been found for Captain Blizzard, and Becky had brought in a decanter of sherry and glasses to set before the visitors, Chris shut the study door and sat down on the floor where he could observe the three faces before him.\n\nMr. Wicker spoke first.\n\n\"Well, Captain, what brings you here so betimes? No trouble of any kind, I trust?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat. <|quote_start|>\"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.\"<|quote_end|> He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. \"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cleared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"", "start_byte": 141267, "end_byte": 141346, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 103.27499908447265, "cut_end_time": 106.96006158447265, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, Captain, what brings you here so betimes? No trouble of any kind, I trust?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard set down his glass of sherry and cleared his throat. \"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.\" He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. <|quote_start|>\"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused.", "narrative_information_pred": {"paused": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"But 'tis not so.", "start_byte": 141427, "end_byte": 141444, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 112.30499786376953, "cut_end_time": 113.83012286376953, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.\" He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. \"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"But 'tis not so.\"<|quote_end|> The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "2", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"", "start_byte": 141498, "end_byte": 141603, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 117.49499969482422, "cut_end_time": 123.64006219482421, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, sir, needs must I come with unpleasant news, and sorry I am to bring it. I have heard that the Venture plans to sail at any time, and you well know she is a fast-sailing ship.\" He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. \"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men,", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"I knew some trouble was ahead,", "start_byte": 141657, "end_byte": 141688, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 127.31500274658202, "cut_end_time": 128.87000274658203, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\" He folded his plump hands over his paunch and twiddled his thumbs with agitation. \"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. <|quote_start|>\"I knew some trouble was ahead,\"<|quote_end|> he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"but did not know what form it was to take.", "start_byte": 141706, "end_byte": 141749, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 130.60500732421875, "cut_end_time": 132.64006982421876, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Sir, it has been noised about that the Venture is headed for the West Indies.\"\n\nHe paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, <|quote_start|>\"but did not know what form it was to take.\"<|quote_end|> He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,", "start_byte": 141762, "end_byte": 141948, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 135.2350067138672, "cut_end_time": 146.7400067138672, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.\n\n\"But 'tis not so.\" The Captain looked with anxious eyes at Mr. Wicker. \"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. <|quote_start|>\"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\"<|quote_end|> he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,", "start_byte": 141973, "end_byte": 142013, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 148.66499389648436, "cut_end_time": 151.54011889648436, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Early this morning Ned Cilley brought me the information that the Venture is to sail to the China seas.\"\n\nMr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, <|quote_start|>\"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\"<|quote_end|> and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied. \"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"what advice do you give me?\"", "start_byte": 142061, "end_byte": 142090, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 154.185, "cut_end_time": 155.3900625, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker's face was grave but showed no surprise. \"I knew some trouble was ahead,\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, <|quote_start|>\"what advice do you give me?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied. \"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"\n\nThe Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "alertly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"", "start_byte": 142126, "end_byte": 142194, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 158.74499938964843, "cut_end_time": 162.85006188964843, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" he said slowly, \"but did not know what form it was to take.\" He paused. \"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. <|quote_start|>\"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied. \"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"\n\nThe Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.\n\n\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wagged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?", "start_byte": 142196, "end_byte": 142235, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 163.70499877929686, "cut_end_time": 165.69012377929687, "narration": {"text": "He paused and glanced at Mr. Finney who nodded forlornly, his mouth drooping.", "cut_start_time": 107.53499694824218, "cut_end_time": 111.98005944824219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied. \"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"\n\nThe Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.\n\n\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"At any time, sir,", "start_byte": 142290, "end_byte": 142308, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 169.44500061035157, "cut_end_time": 171.12006311035157, "narration": {"text": "The Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.", "cut_start_time": 178.67500549316406, "cut_end_time": 186.31000549316406, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"News of sailings and destinations get about so rapidly, it is more than likely that someone overheard the destination of the Mirabelle, and sold his knowledge to Captain Chew. Although,\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"At any time, sir,\"<|quote_end|> the Captain at once replied. \"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"\n\nThe Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.\n\n\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"", "start_byte": 142339, "end_byte": 142425, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 173.26499511718748, "cut_end_time": 177.5501201171875, "narration": {"text": "The Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.", "cut_start_time": 178.67500549316406, "cut_end_time": 186.31000549316406, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\" he added thoughtfully, \"I think Claggett Chew guessed it. Well,\" and Mr. Wicker looked alertly at the two men, \"what advice do you give me?\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard wagged his head. \"Nay sir, 'tis for orders that I came to you. It is for you to say.\"\n\n\"How soon can the Mirabelle put to sea?\" Mr. Wicker asked, and Chris's heart skipped a beat.\n\n\"At any time, sir,\" the Captain at once replied. <|quote_start|>\"We have nearly water enough, and quite sufficient stores. The men are all assembled.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.\n\n\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"The tide will be high at midnight, sir,", "start_byte": 142928, "end_byte": 142968, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 208.375, "cut_end_time": 211.28, "narration": {"text": "The Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.", "cut_start_time": 178.67500549316406, "cut_end_time": 186.31000549316406, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "The Captain fell silent and no one spoke for several minutes. Mr. Wicker leaning his chin on his folded hands was lost in thought.\n\n\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The tide will be high at midnight, sir,\"<|quote_end|> he informed them. \"See\" -- he pointed a short forefinger at a spot on one chart -- \"here is the sandbar that the tide covers for but a short time, and should there be other ships crowding the river near this point, we must slip through there then or not at all.\"\n\nMr. Wicker examined the charts and nodded. \"Very well,\" he said, \"so must it be,\" and Chris felt that his heartbeat would stifle him, it pounded so fast and thickly in his throat. All at once, looking up at the thoughtful face of his master, Chris longed to be able to stay safe at home. The imminent journey, so far and perhaps so perilous, seemed suddenly too much for him. Mr. Wicker had taken the river charts and rolled them up, and now turned to the Captain and first mate.", "narrative_information_pred": {"informed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"here is the sandbar that the tide covers for but a short time, and should there be other ships crowding the river near this point, we must slip through there then or not at all.\"", "start_byte": 143053, "end_byte": 143232, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 217.02499267578125, "cut_end_time": 225.76011767578123, "narration": {"text": " He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand.", "cut_start_time": 271.2850085449219, "cut_end_time": 274.6400710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"How move the tides?\" he finally asked, raising his head.\n\nThe Captain, with surprising briskness for so large a man, pulled some folded charts from his pocket. Without a word the three men rose and went over to the table, pushing aside the china bowl filled with flowers to spread the charts flat on the table top. Captain Blizzard leaned his knuckles on the boards.\n\n\"The tide will be high at midnight, sir,\" he informed them. \"See\" -- he pointed a short forefinger at a spot on one chart -- <|quote_start|>\"here is the sandbar that the tide covers for but a short time, and should there be other ships crowding the river near this point, we must slip through there then or not at all.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker examined the charts and nodded. \"Very well,\" he said, \"so must it be,\" and Chris felt that his heartbeat would stifle him, it pounded so fast and thickly in his throat. All at once, looking up at the thoughtful face of his master, Chris longed to be able to stay safe at home. The imminent journey, so far and perhaps so perilous, seemed suddenly too much for him. Mr. Wicker had taken the river charts and rolled them up, and now turned to the Captain and first mate.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pointed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Captain Blizzard, and you, Mr. Finney,", "start_byte": 143715, "end_byte": 143754, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 255.98500610351562, "cut_end_time": 258.0100061035156, "narration": {"text": " He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand.", "cut_start_time": 271.2850085449219, "cut_end_time": 274.6400710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker examined the charts and nodded. \"Very well,\" he said, \"so must it be,\" and Chris felt that his heartbeat would stifle him, it pounded so fast and thickly in his throat. All at once, looking up at the thoughtful face of his master, Chris longed to be able to stay safe at home. The imminent journey, so far and perhaps so perilous, seemed suddenly too much for him. Mr. Wicker had taken the river charts and rolled them up, and now turned to the Captain and first mate.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Captain Blizzard, and you, Mr. Finney,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.\" He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand. \"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.\" The two men listening nodded in agreement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.", "start_byte": 143765, "end_byte": 143993, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 258.464990234375, "cut_end_time": 270.120115234375, "narration": {"text": " He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand.", "cut_start_time": 271.2850085449219, "cut_end_time": 274.6400710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker examined the charts and nodded. \"Very well,\" he said, \"so must it be,\" and Chris felt that his heartbeat would stifle him, it pounded so fast and thickly in his throat. All at once, looking up at the thoughtful face of his master, Chris longed to be able to stay safe at home. The imminent journey, so far and perhaps so perilous, seemed suddenly too much for him. Mr. Wicker had taken the river charts and rolled them up, and now turned to the Captain and first mate.\n\n\"Captain Blizzard, and you, Mr. Finney,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.\"<|quote_end|> He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand. \"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.\" The two men listening nodded in agreement. \"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\" He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. \"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.", "start_byte": 144061, "end_byte": 144152, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 275.3650048828125, "cut_end_time": 280.03006738281255, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.", "cut_start_time": 299.9850146484375, "cut_end_time": 304.2800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker examined the charts and nodded. \"Very well,\" he said, \"so must it be,\" and Chris felt that his heartbeat would stifle him, it pounded so fast and thickly in his throat. All at once, looking up at the thoughtful face of his master, Chris longed to be able to stay safe at home. The imminent journey, so far and perhaps so perilous, seemed suddenly too much for him. Mr. Wicker had taken the river charts and rolled them up, and now turned to the Captain and first mate.\n\n\"Captain Blizzard, and you, Mr. Finney,\" he said, \"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.\" He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand. <|quote_start|>\"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.\"<|quote_end|> The two men listening nodded in agreement. \"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\" He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. \"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.", "start_byte": 144197, "end_byte": 144336, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 282.8949877929688, "cut_end_time": 290.31005029296875, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.", "cut_start_time": 299.9850146484375, "cut_end_time": 304.2800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\" he said, \"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.\" He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand. \"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.\" The two men listening nodded in agreement. <|quote_start|>\"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\"<|quote_end|> He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. \"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\" He glanced down meditatively at Chris. \"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"laid": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"", "start_byte": 144376, "end_byte": 144478, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 293.21500000000003, "cut_end_time": 299.5100625, "narration": {"text": "Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.", "cut_start_time": 299.9850146484375, "cut_end_time": 304.2800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"should water casks be seen going on board, the whole of Georgetown will know you mean to sail. I therefore ask you to so contrive it that the casks be hidden in bales or boxes so that they seem to be anything but what they are.\" He tapped the rolled charts thoughtfully on the palm of one hand. \"Our only chance to steal a march on the Venture will be to sail at least a day before her.\" The two men listening nodded in agreement. \"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\" He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. <|quote_start|>\"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nCaptain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\" He glanced down meditatively at Chris. \"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"\n\nHe strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laid": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.", "start_byte": 144620, "end_byte": 144703, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 307.554990234375, "cut_end_time": 312.320115234375, "narration": {"text": "He strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.", "cut_start_time": 320.83501098632814, "cut_end_time": 326.51007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\" The two men listening nodded in agreement. \"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\" He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. \"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, <|quote_start|>\"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\"<|quote_end|> He glanced down meditatively at Chris. \"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"\n\nHe strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.\n\n\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,\" said Mr. Wicker. He turned. \"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"", "start_byte": 144744, "end_byte": 144830, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.0849914550781, "cut_end_time": 320.02011645507815, "narration": {"text": "He strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.", "cut_start_time": 320.83501098632814, "cut_end_time": 326.51007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"There is one other thing. Your orders for where you are to anchor, once near China, will be secret, and carried on the person of this boy.\" He laid one hand on Chris's shoulder. \"He has a task of utmost secrecy to carry out and will require your help, encouragement, and silence.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\" He glanced down meditatively at Chris. <|quote_start|>\"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.\n\n\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,\" said Mr. Wicker. He turned. \"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\" and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"glanced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "meditatively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,", "start_byte": 144948, "end_byte": 145027, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 327.1050134277344, "cut_end_time": 331.6600759277344, "narration": {"text": "He strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.", "cut_start_time": 320.83501098632814, "cut_end_time": 326.51007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Captain Blizzard and Mr. Finney looked solemnly at Chris who looked as solemnly back.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\" He glanced down meditatively at Chris. \"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"\n\nHe strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker. He turned. \"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\" and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement. \"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"\n\nMaster and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,", "start_byte": 145057, "end_byte": 145165, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 334.29498657226566, "cut_end_time": 339.78011157226564, "narration": {"text": "He strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.", "cut_start_time": 320.83501098632814, "cut_end_time": 326.51007348632817, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"Not only that,\" Mr. Wicker went on, \"but his presence on the ship must not be known until the Mirabelle is well to sea.\" He glanced down meditatively at Chris. \"I shall arrange to bring him aboard somehow, and give you your sailing orders later.\"\n\nHe strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.\n\n\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,\" said Mr. Wicker. He turned. <|quote_start|>\"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\"<|quote_end|> and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement. \"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"\n\nMaster and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.\n\n\"Look, sir! Here is the sandbar, and here\" -- he put his finger down -- \"the Venture. Or she was, yesterday. Now sir, the sandbar being just below and ahead of the Venture, once the Mirabelle has slipped by, wouldn't it be too bad if something happened to make the Venture drift with the tide and run aground?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"", "start_byte": 145327, "end_byte": 145399, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 348.855009765625, "cut_end_time": 353.130009765625, "narration": {"text": "No sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement.", "cut_start_time": 344.6749951171875, "cut_end_time": 348.6401201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "He strode over to the window looking out to his gardens and the trees where the apples showed their russet cheeks.\n\n\"Leave me these charts for yet a little while, and I shall ponder on our plans,\" said Mr. Wicker. He turned. \"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\" and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement. <|quote_start|>\"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMaster and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.\n\n\"Look, sir! Here is the sandbar, and here\" -- he put his finger down -- \"the Venture. Or she was, yesterday. Now sir, the sandbar being just below and ahead of the Venture, once the Mirabelle has slipped by, wouldn't it be too bad if something happened to make the Venture drift with the tide and run aground?\"\n\nHe looked eagerly up into Mr. Wicker's face and saw in it the reflection of his own excitement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "up": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 8}, "excitement": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Look, sir! Here is the sandbar, and here", "start_byte": 145479, "end_byte": 145520, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 358.7549926757813, "cut_end_time": 361.8601176757813, "narration": {"text": "Master and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.", "cut_start_time": 354.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 358.2500576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\" and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement. \"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"\n\nMaster and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Look, sir! Here is the sandbar, and here\"<|quote_end|> -- he put his finger down -- \"the Venture. Or she was, yesterday. Now sir, the sandbar being just below and ahead of the Venture, once the Mirabelle has slipped by, wouldn't it be too bad if something happened to make the Venture drift with the tide and run aground?\"\n\nHe looked eagerly up into Mr. Wicker's face and saw in it the reflection of his own excitement.\n\n\"There are times, Christopher,\" said Mr. Wicker with his eyes snapping, \"when you surprise even me. But how is it to be done?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"put": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"the Venture. Or she was, yesterday. Now sir, the sandbar being just below and ahead of the Venture, once the Mirabelle has slipped by, wouldn't it be too bad if something happened to make the Venture drift with the tide and run aground?\"", "start_byte": 145551, "end_byte": 145789, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 363.54499755859376, "cut_end_time": 378.7401225585938, "narration": {"text": "Master and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.", "cut_start_time": 354.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 358.2500576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"See that the water casks are taken on at once, Captain, and hidden, and make a place for Christopher, here,\" and at a beseeching look from Chris he added with a smile, \"and Amos.\"\n\nNo sooner were the Captain and Mr. Finney gone than Chris spoke up in great excitement. \"Mr. Wicker, sir, I have a plan! May we look at the river charts again?\"\n\nMaster and pupil spread out the charts once more, and Chris pointed eagerly.\n\n\"Look, sir! Here is the sandbar, and here\" -- he put his finger down -- <|quote_start|>\"the Venture. Or she was, yesterday. Now sir, the sandbar being just below and ahead of the Venture, once the Mirabelle has slipped by, wouldn't it be too bad if something happened to make the Venture drift with the tide and run aground?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked eagerly up into Mr. Wicker's face and saw in it the reflection of his own excitement.\n\n\"There are times, Christopher,\" said Mr. Wicker with his eyes snapping, \"when you surprise even me. But how is it to be done?\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" began Chris, \"it's a little tricky but I think, what with the things we know, it can be worked.\"\n\nHe began outlining to his master the details of his plan.\n\nCHAPTER 18\n\nIt was perhaps as well that Chris had more than enough to think of. Otherwise the wrench at leaving home might have been even more distressing than it was. His last day passed like a flash, though from his attitude no one, certainly not Becky, would have guessed that the next morning he would not be there to eat his breakfast in the sunny kitchen window. Amos, quick to sense all Chris's moods, knew something was afoot, and when Chris and Mr. Wicker finally told him of the sailing plan, Amos's eyes grew rounder than ever and sparkled more brightly, but he said never a word.", "narrative_information_pred": {"put": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_17_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 35}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b1470f302c8eb026787191200b8dbff969945ca6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Be of good heart, Amos,", "start_byte": 147649, "end_byte": 147673, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 96.36499694824218, "cut_end_time": 97.86005944824218, "narration": {"text": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.", "cut_start_time": 104.2749981689453, "cut_end_time": 113.06006066894531, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "At ten o'clock that night, when Becky had gone heavily to her room, wondering perhaps why Chris had given her so hard a hug, Ned Cilley knocked at the back door. He had brought a light cart on which there stood a large wicker hamper. Ned and Chris lifted it into the kitchen while Mr. Wicker drew the curtains and then held a candle high. The candlelight flickered and flapped like a trapped bird at the corners of the room, and sharp bird-wing shadows cut across Mr. Wicker's tall dark figure. Yet to Chris, who was to hold the scene ever after in his memory, the kitchen by the light of that one candle, and the figure of his master standing in its center, moved Chris as he had never been touched before. Amos stood near the basket, looking first into its square depth filled with shadow, and then up enquiringly at Mr. Wicker, but he did not speak.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Be of good heart, Amos,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said to him kindly, \"and look after young Christopher as best you can.\"\n\nThen, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "kindly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"and look after young Christopher as best you can.\"", "start_byte": 147706, "end_byte": 147757, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 101.44499877929687, "cut_end_time": 103.54006127929686, "narration": {"text": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.", "cut_start_time": 104.2749981689453, "cut_end_time": 113.06006066894531, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "At ten o'clock that night, when Becky had gone heavily to her room, wondering perhaps why Chris had given her so hard a hug, Ned Cilley knocked at the back door. He had brought a light cart on which there stood a large wicker hamper. Ned and Chris lifted it into the kitchen while Mr. Wicker drew the curtains and then held a candle high. The candlelight flickered and flapped like a trapped bird at the corners of the room, and sharp bird-wing shadows cut across Mr. Wicker's tall dark figure. Yet to Chris, who was to hold the scene ever after in his memory, the kitchen by the light of that one candle, and the figure of his master standing in its center, moved Chris as he had never been touched before. Amos stood near the basket, looking first into its square depth filled with shadow, and then up enquiringly at Mr. Wicker, but he did not speak.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Be of good heart, Amos,\" Mr. Wicker said to him kindly, <|quote_start|>\"and look after young Christopher as best you can.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThen, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "kindly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Yessir, I will!", "start_byte": 147910, "end_byte": 147926, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 114.24499938964843, "cut_end_time": 115.31006188964844, "narration": {"text": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.", "cut_start_time": 104.2749981689453, "cut_end_time": 113.06006066894531, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "At ten o'clock that night, when Becky had gone heavily to her room, wondering perhaps why Chris had given her so hard a hug, Ned Cilley knocked at the back door. He had brought a light cart on which there stood a large wicker hamper. Ned and Chris lifted it into the kitchen while Mr. Wicker drew the curtains and then held a candle high. The candlelight flickered and flapped like a trapped bird at the corners of the room, and sharp bird-wing shadows cut across Mr. Wicker's tall dark figure. Yet to Chris, who was to hold the scene ever after in his memory, the kitchen by the light of that one candle, and the figure of his master standing in its center, moved Chris as he had never been touched before. Amos stood near the basket, looking first into its square depth filled with shadow, and then up enquiringly at Mr. Wicker, but he did not speak.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Be of good heart, Amos,\" Mr. Wicker said to him kindly, \"and look after young Christopher as best you can.\"\n\nThen, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yessir, I will!\"<|quote_end|> he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home", "narrative_information_pred": {"piped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shrill": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "excitement": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"All is well understood?", "start_byte": 148146, "end_byte": 148170, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 127.10500274658203, "cut_end_time": 128.98000274658202, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"All is well understood?\"<|quote_end|> he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, \"and good luck to the two of ye!\"\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"queried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"", "start_byte": 148184, "end_byte": 148224, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 130.43500061035155, "cut_end_time": 133.41000061035155, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. <|quote_start|>\"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, \"and good luck to the two of ye!\"\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"queried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!", "start_byte": 148226, "end_byte": 148254, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 134.11499755859376, "cut_end_time": 136.42012255859373, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Then, at a gesture from Mr. Wicker, Amos, agog, stepped into the hamper where he stood uncertainly, his expression half terrified and half delighted.\n\n\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\"<|quote_end|> the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, \"and good luck to the two of ye!\"\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,", "start_byte": 148279, "end_byte": 148331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 137.81499633789062, "cut_end_time": 140.7500588378906, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Yessir, I will!\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker. \"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, \"and good luck to the two of ye!\"\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"", "start_byte": 148350, "end_byte": 148415, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.225, "cut_end_time": 144.94, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\" said Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, \"and good luck to the two of ye!\"\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.\n\nA black night it was indeed. Although there was a moon, thick clouds scudded over it and an autumn wind bent the trees, tearing the leaves from them. A mist rose from the river, but it was blown away from all but the most sheltered places.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"and good luck to the two of ye!\"", "start_byte": 148465, "end_byte": 148498, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 147.8249963378906, "cut_end_time": 149.5000588378906, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\" he piped up, shrill with excitement. \"I'll keep my eye on him!\" he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.\n\n\"All is well understood?\" he queried. \"This is no time for misunderstandings!\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sir! All is clear!\" the good Ned replied.\n\n\"Then Godspeed to you all and bring you safely home,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"Be on the lookout for this lad, Ned, when you get past the bar.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"We shall,\" Ned whispered back, <|quote_start|>\"and good luck to the two of ye!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nClucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.\n\nA black night it was indeed. Although there was a moon, thick clouds scudded over it and an autumn wind bent the trees, tearing the leaves from them. A mist rose from the river, but it was blown away from all but the most sheltered places.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Come, Christopher,", "start_byte": 149204, "end_byte": 149223, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 193.60500732421875, "cut_end_time": 194.65006982421875, "narration": {"text": " he promised, and then curled up in the hamper. Ned Cilley shut down the top and he and Chris lifted it to the cart. Mr. Wicker spoke low into Ned's ear.", "cut_start_time": 118.69500335693358, "cut_end_time": 126.97006585693359, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Clucking to his horse, on wheels covered with rags, and with cloths about the horse's hoofs to deaden their sound, Ned Cilley and his hamper went quietly away in the direction of the wharfs. In a moment, cart, horse, and driver were swallowed up in the denseness of the night.\n\nA black night it was indeed. Although there was a moon, thick clouds scudded over it and an autumn wind bent the trees, tearing the leaves from them. A mist rose from the river, but it was blown away from all but the most sheltered places.\n\nMr. Wicker and Chris stood in the silent kitchen. Looking about him, Chris remembered with a pang the first morning he had seen it, with Becky in her gaudy hat standing near the fire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Come, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker bade him, taking up his caped black cloak and another one for Chris. \"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck", "narrative_information_pred": {"bade": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"", "start_byte": 149305, "end_byte": 149429, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 199.2649932861328, "cut_end_time": 205.9500557861328, "narration": {"text": "Chris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.", "cut_start_time": 206.78500427246092, "cut_end_time": 211.42006677246093, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "A black night it was indeed. Although there was a moon, thick clouds scudded over it and an autumn wind bent the trees, tearing the leaves from them. A mist rose from the river, but it was blown away from all but the most sheltered places.\n\nMr. Wicker and Chris stood in the silent kitchen. Looking about him, Chris remembered with a pang the first morning he had seen it, with Becky in her gaudy hat standing near the fire.\n\n\"Come, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker bade him, taking up his caped black cloak and another one for Chris. <|quote_start|>\"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself", "narrative_information_pred": {"bade": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,", "start_byte": 149515, "end_byte": 149580, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 211.94500610351562, "cut_end_time": 215.01000610351562, "narration": {"text": "Chris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.", "cut_start_time": 206.78500427246092, "cut_end_time": 211.42006677246093, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker and Chris stood in the silent kitchen. Looking about him, Chris remembered with a pang the first morning he had seen it, with Becky in her gaudy hat standing near the fire.\n\n\"Come, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker bade him, taking up his caped black cloak and another one for Chris. \"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\"<|quote_end|> he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Wear them about your neck.", "start_byte": 149595, "end_byte": 149622, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 216.3349951171875, "cut_end_time": 217.40005761718749, "narration": {"text": "Chris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.", "cut_start_time": 206.78500427246092, "cut_end_time": 211.42006677246093, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Come, Christopher,\" Mr. Wicker bade him, taking up his caped black cloak and another one for Chris. \"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. <|quote_start|>\"Wear them about your neck.\"<|quote_end|> So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?", "start_byte": 149682, "end_byte": 149746, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 222.04499938964844, "cut_end_time": 225.33012438964843, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker bade him, taking up his caped black cloak and another one for Chris. \"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\"<|quote_end|> Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\" said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,", "start_byte": 149762, "end_byte": 149811, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 226.71499572753905, "cut_end_time": 229.15005822753906, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\"<|quote_end|> the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\" said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?", "start_byte": 149835, "end_byte": 149904, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 230.78499755859374, "cut_end_time": 234.13006005859376, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"First, wind the rope about your waist, and once on board, bind it under your shirt. Let no one, not even Amos, know of it.\"\n\nChris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. <|quote_start|>\"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\"<|quote_end|> A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\" said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"So, all is ready,", "start_byte": 149945, "end_byte": 149963, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 237.2650018310547, "cut_end_time": 238.5500018310547, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Chris did as he was told. Mr. Wicker then gave him a leather pouch hung on a cord.\n\n\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. <|quote_start|>\"So, all is ready,\"<|quote_end|> he said glancing around. \"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\" said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.\n\nChris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "glancing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,", "start_byte": 149990, "end_byte": 150057, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 240.49500061035155, "cut_end_time": 243.75006311035156, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Here are some oddments of magic that may prove their usefulness,\" he remarked. \"Wear them about your neck.\" So saying he slipped the leather cord over Chris's head.\n\n\"What happens to the rope and pouch when I change my shape, sir?\" Chris asked.\n\n\"They will remain with you, have no fear of that,\" the magician replied. \"What would be the use of magic if it proved unable to adjust itself?\" A smile played over Mr. Wicker's face. \"So, all is ready,\" he said glancing around. <|quote_start|>\"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.\n\nChris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.\n\n\"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "drily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight!", "start_byte": 150466, "end_byte": 150505, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 270.50500732421875, "cut_end_time": 273.0500698242188, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"Now we must be off and lose no time, for we have much ahead of us,\" said Mr. Wicker drily, blowing out the candle.\n\nBefore he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.\n\nChris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight!\"<|quote_end|> Chris muttered as they came to the marsh.\n\n\"Yes, the twentieth century has many conveniences,\" Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.\n\nThey came out suddenly from the blackness of the woods to the wind-whipped river, and though the moon was still obscured, the river held a pallid sheen of its own that gave a little light. There was not a sound to be heard but the hurried lap of water against the shore, the suck and pull of Chris's and Mr. Wicker's boots in the mud, and sharp, hair-raising rustles, from time to time, in the reeds. Chris's heart thudded in his throat at these furtive noises, for they could only be made by rats or watersnakes, and Chris liked neither of these, especially by night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"muttered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Yes, the twentieth century has many conveniences,", "start_byte": 150550, "end_byte": 150600, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 275.30501220703127, "cut_end_time": 278.37001220703127, "narration": {"text": "Chris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.", "cut_start_time": 262.01500122070314, "cut_end_time": 269.6700637207031, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Before he knew it, Chris stood -- until what far-off time? -- outside Mr. Wicker's house. His master locked the door. The wind, swooping down like some great bird, tugged at their cloaks and chilled their faces.\n\nChris led the way to the creek and the marsh. This time both he and Mr. Wicker wore high boots which kept the icy water and mud from their feet.\n\n\"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight!\" Chris muttered as they came to the marsh.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yes, the twentieth century has many conveniences,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.\n\nThey came out suddenly from the blackness of the woods to the wind-whipped river, and though the moon was still obscured, the river held a pallid sheen of its own that gave a little light. There was not a sound to be heard but the hurried lap of water against the shore, the suck and pull of Chris's and Mr. Wicker's boots in the mud, and sharp, hair-raising rustles, from time to time, in the reeds. Chris's heart thudded in his throat at these furtive noises, for they could only be made by rats or watersnakes, and Chris liked neither of these, especially by night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"The anchor may have dragged,", "start_byte": 151616, "end_byte": 151645, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 341.15500976562504, "cut_end_time": 342.54007226562504, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.", "cut_start_time": 278.7649890136719, "cut_end_time": 284.3901140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "They came out suddenly from the blackness of the woods to the wind-whipped river, and though the moon was still obscured, the river held a pallid sheen of its own that gave a little light. There was not a sound to be heard but the hurried lap of water against the shore, the suck and pull of Chris's and Mr. Wicker's boots in the mud, and sharp, hair-raising rustles, from time to time, in the reeds. Chris's heart thudded in his throat at these furtive noises, for they could only be made by rats or watersnakes, and Chris liked neither of these, especially by night.\n\nPushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The anchor may have dragged,\"<|quote_end|> Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. \"Now for our boat!\"\n\nThe rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\" Mr. Wicker murmured. \"You do the rest.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Now for our boat!\"", "start_byte": 151678, "end_byte": 151697, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 344.07498657226563, "cut_end_time": 345.2800490722656, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.", "cut_start_time": 278.7649890136719, "cut_end_time": 284.3901140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "They came out suddenly from the blackness of the woods to the wind-whipped river, and though the moon was still obscured, the river held a pallid sheen of its own that gave a little light. There was not a sound to be heard but the hurried lap of water against the shore, the suck and pull of Chris's and Mr. Wicker's boots in the mud, and sharp, hair-raising rustles, from time to time, in the reeds. Chris's heart thudded in his throat at these furtive noises, for they could only be made by rats or watersnakes, and Chris liked neither of these, especially by night.\n\nPushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.\n\n\"The anchor may have dragged,\" Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"Now for our boat!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\" Mr. Wicker murmured. \"You do the rest.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. \"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,", "start_byte": 151941, "end_byte": 151981, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 360.4349987792969, "cut_end_time": 363.1701237792969, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.", "cut_start_time": 278.7649890136719, "cut_end_time": 284.3901140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Pushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.\n\n\"The anchor may have dragged,\" Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. \"Now for our boat!\"\n\nThe rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker murmured. \"You do the rest.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. \"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"\n\nToward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"You do the rest.\"", "start_byte": 152004, "end_byte": 152022, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 364.3449987792969, "cut_end_time": 365.7001237792969, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.", "cut_start_time": 278.7649890136719, "cut_end_time": 284.3901140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Pushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.\n\n\"The anchor may have dragged,\" Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. \"Now for our boat!\"\n\nThe rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\" Mr. Wicker murmured. <|quote_start|>\"You do the rest.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. \"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"\n\nToward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I shall, sir!", "start_byte": 152024, "end_byte": 152038, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 365.57500610351565, "cut_end_time": 366.83000610351564, "narration": {"text": " Mr. Wicker replied, and Chris could imagine, behind him, the man's sardonic smile and amused eyes.", "cut_start_time": 278.7649890136719, "cut_end_time": 284.3901140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Pushing along the marsh edge and feeling their way, the two figures at last came in sight of their goal. The high dark hull of the Venture rose above the water, an amber lantern hanging at her stern. The wind swung the ship, and the tide, still flowing up the Potomac, showed that the bow, held by the anchor, was pointed somewhat downstream.\n\n\"The anchor may have dragged,\" Chris whispered to Mr. Wicker. \"Now for our boat!\"\n\nThe rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\" Mr. Wicker murmured. \"You do the rest.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I shall, sir!\"<|quote_end|> Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. \"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"\n\nToward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"", "start_byte": 152115, "end_byte": 152143, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 370.6950146484375, "cut_end_time": 372.5000771484375, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "The rope seemed to uncoil from about his waist almost of itself, and with the gestures he had been taught, Chris formed a very adequate craft; a trifle lopsided, it must be admitted, as he had had small practice, but seaworthy nevertheless.\n\n\"I shall see that the men sleep soundly,\" Mr. Wicker murmured. \"You do the rest.\"\n\n\"I shall, sir!\" Chris agreed, and then the moon showed an edge for a moment in the clouds. <|quote_start|>\"Look sir -- the Mirabelle!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nToward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.\n\n\"Then quick", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Then quick!", "start_byte": 152572, "end_byte": 152584, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 399.7749975585938, "cut_end_time": 400.84012255859375, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Toward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then quick!\"<|quote_end|> bade Mr. Wicker. \"We took too long! It seems we are a trifle late!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey stepped into the boat, each taking an oar, and with only a few strong pulls came alongside the silent Venture. They moored their boat to the anchor rope. Mr. Wicker touched Chris by way of wishing him luck, and disappeared. For half a second more Chris waited. No sound came from the ship but a light showed in the Captain's cabin.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bade": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"We took too long! It seems we are a trifle late!\"", "start_byte": 152603, "end_byte": 152653, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 401.8450012207031, "cut_end_time": 405.0300012207031, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Toward sleeping Georgetown, for it was nearly midnight now, a whiteness showed itself, close against the distant wharfs. The Mirabelle was edging out, and Chris knew that Ned, Bowie, Abner Cloud, and others were pulling her by the ship's boats into the main flow of the river. Once turned, she would float noiselessly down the Potomac past the Venture, and once he was aboard, would hoist her sails and set her course to sea.\n\n\"Then quick!\" bade Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"We took too long! It seems we are a trifle late!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey stepped into the boat, each taking an oar, and with only a few strong pulls came alongside the silent Venture. They moored their boat to the anchor rope. Mr. Wicker touched Chris by way of wishing him luck, and disappeared. For half a second more Chris waited. No sound came from the ship but a light showed in the Captain's cabin.\n\nIn a twinkling, a monkey with a pouch about its neck ran up the anchor rope and pausing on the gunwale, sniffed at the pungent flower smell that it now knew meant sleep for all the sailors. Then it bounded toward the light.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bade": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"is the place marked?", "start_byte": 154748, "end_byte": 154769, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 530.304990234375, "cut_end_time": 532.580052734375, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "A smoking lamp hung low over a center table, dropping a dusky round glow on the larger circle beneath it. Claggett Chew was blearily studying a paper spread out before him, leaning his ugly bare skull on one hand. His eyes were blood-shot, and an empty wine bottle and glass holding only wine dregs showed he had been drinking and was now half asleep.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey, in a heavy silk robe and embroidered slippers, lounged sideways in a chair with his legs hanging over the arm. His hand trailed an empty glass on the floor, and a silly drunken smile played over his face.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he was saying, <|quote_start|>\"is the place marked?\"<|quote_end|> He hiccuped delicately. \"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!\" he complained with a frown. \"Let me have more wine!\"\n\nClaggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups", "narrative_information_pred": {"was saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!", "start_byte": 154795, "end_byte": 154822, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 534.9150048828125, "cut_end_time": 538.0600048828126, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "A smoking lamp hung low over a center table, dropping a dusky round glow on the larger circle beneath it. Claggett Chew was blearily studying a paper spread out before him, leaning his ugly bare skull on one hand. His eyes were blood-shot, and an empty wine bottle and glass holding only wine dregs showed he had been drinking and was now half asleep.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey, in a heavy silk robe and embroidered slippers, lounged sideways in a chair with his legs hanging over the arm. His hand trailed an empty glass on the floor, and a silly drunken smile played over his face.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he was saying, \"is the place marked?\" He hiccuped delicately. <|quote_start|>\"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!\"<|quote_end|> he complained with a frown. \"Let me have more wine!\"\n\nClaggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups", "narrative_information_pred": {"complained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "frown": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Let me have more wine!\"", "start_byte": 154852, "end_byte": 154876, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 540.0049829101563, "cut_end_time": 542.0401079101563, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "A smoking lamp hung low over a center table, dropping a dusky round glow on the larger circle beneath it. Claggett Chew was blearily studying a paper spread out before him, leaning his ugly bare skull on one hand. His eyes were blood-shot, and an empty wine bottle and glass holding only wine dregs showed he had been drinking and was now half asleep.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey, in a heavy silk robe and embroidered slippers, lounged sideways in a chair with his legs hanging over the arm. His hand trailed an empty glass on the floor, and a silly drunken smile played over his face.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he was saying, \"is the place marked?\" He hiccuped delicately. \"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!\" he complained with a frown. <|quote_start|>\"Let me have more wine!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nClaggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!\" he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.", "narrative_information_pred": {"complained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "frown": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.", "start_byte": 154990, "end_byte": 155094, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 550.1849731445312, "cut_end_time": 559.1100356445313, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "Osterbridge Hawsey, in a heavy silk robe and embroidered slippers, lounged sideways in a chair with his legs hanging over the arm. His hand trailed an empty glass on the floor, and a silly drunken smile played over his face.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he was saying, \"is the place marked?\" He hiccuped delicately. \"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!\" he complained with a frown. \"Let me have more wine!\"\n\nClaggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, <|quote_start|>\"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\"<|quote_end|> He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!\" he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.\n\n\"Claggett!\" Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. \"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!", "start_byte": 155107, "end_byte": 155185, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 561.9749877929688, "cut_end_time": 568.0000502929688, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again,", "cut_start_time": 542.5850073242187, "cut_end_time": 550.0900073242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\"is the place marked?\" He hiccuped delicately. \"Hup! Oh dear! the hiccups!\" he complained with a frown. \"Let me have more wine!\"\n\nClaggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. <|quote_start|>\"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!\"<|quote_end|> he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.\n\n\"Claggett!\" Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. \"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "flurry": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "annoyance": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Claggett!", "start_byte": 155282, "end_byte": 155292, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 573.7649926757813, "cut_end_time": 574.7901176757813, "narration": {"text": "Befuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map.", "cut_start_time": 588.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 594.7900576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!\" he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Claggett!\"<|quote_end|> Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. \"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. \"There!\" he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, \"will that shut you up?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrilled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"", "start_byte": 155323, "end_byte": 155466, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 577.0849829101563, "cut_end_time": 587.4400454101562, "narration": {"text": "Befuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map.", "cut_start_time": 588.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 594.7900576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Claggett Chew did not reply nor rise to fetch another bottle. Osterbridge Hawsey gave a hiccup and spoke again, \"Mark it -- hic! -- Claggett. You may forget. All those -- hup! -- walls, to get over, or -- hic! under.\" He sighed. \"Oh dear! Hic! Think of those jewels, Claggett! Hup! Devil take these hiccups!\" he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.\n\n\"Claggett!\" Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. <|quote_start|>\"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. \"There!\" he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, \"will that shut you up?\"\n\nA moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.\n\n\"I smell him!\" he muttered thickly. \"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!\" he shouted drunkenly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrilled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"There!", "start_byte": 155571, "end_byte": 155578, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 595.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 596.5800600585937, "narration": {"text": "Befuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map.", "cut_start_time": 588.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 594.7900576171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\" he exclaimed in a flurry of annoyance, but made no motion to change his comfortable position.\n\n\"Claggett!\" Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. \"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. <|quote_start|>\"There!\"<|quote_end|> he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, \"will that shut you up?\"\n\nA moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.\n\n\"I smell him!\" he muttered thickly. \"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!\" he shouted drunkenly.\n\nAs he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.", "narrative_information_pred": {"growled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"will that shut you up?\"", "start_byte": 155633, "end_byte": 155657, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 600.0050219726563, "cut_end_time": 601.6900219726563, "narration": {"text": "A moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.", "cut_start_time": 602.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 610.7900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\"Claggett!\" Osterbridge Hawsey shrilled. \"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. \"There!\" he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, <|quote_start|>\"will that shut you up?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.\n\n\"I smell him!\" he muttered thickly. \"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!\" he shouted drunkenly.\n\nAs he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.", "narrative_information_pred": {"growled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"I smell him!", "start_byte": 155806, "end_byte": 155819, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 611.315029296875, "cut_end_time": 612.880029296875, "narration": {"text": "A moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.", "cut_start_time": 602.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 610.7900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. \"There!\" he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, \"will that shut you up?\"\n\nA moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I smell him!\"<|quote_end|> he muttered thickly. \"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!\" he shouted drunkenly.\n\nAs he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.", "narrative_information_pred": {"muttered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thickly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!", "start_byte": 155842, "end_byte": 155876, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 614.4250073242188, "cut_end_time": 617.6700698242188, "narration": {"text": "A moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.", "cut_start_time": 602.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 610.7900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\"Are you asleep, or angry, or -- ? Hic! -- Put a cross where the Tree is, I say! I want those -- hup! -- jewels, Claggett, and so do you! Hic!\"\n\nBefuddled, his perceptions hopelessly blurred by excessive wine, Claggett Chew made a mark on the map. \"There!\" he growled, his upper lip drawn back over his teeth, \"will that shut you up?\"\n\nA moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.\n\n\"I smell him!\" he muttered thickly. <|quote_start|>\"He's here! Hullo! Night watchman!\"<|quote_end|> he shouted drunkenly.\n\nAs he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "drunkenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"Hm-mm. Hic! Jewels! Hup!", "start_byte": 156629, "end_byte": 156654, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 662.6550146484375, "cut_end_time": 666.1600771484375, "narration": {"text": "A moving shadow duskier than the shadows themselves came through the door and hovered over Osterbridge Hawsey. Claggett Chew suddenly started up.", "cut_start_time": 602.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 610.7900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "As he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Hm-mm. Hic! Jewels! Hup!\"<|quote_end|> came from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\nDown the anchor rope scrambled the monkey with the agility and speed for which monkeys are famous. Mr. Wicker was already in the boat.\n\n\"How shall it be, sir?\" came the low voice of Chris. \"Shall I become a beaver and go down and gnaw the rope off at the anchor?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"How shall it be, sir?", "start_byte": 156823, "end_byte": 156845, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 676.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 677.720052734375, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "As he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\n\"Hm-mm. Hic! Jewels! Hup!\" came from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\nDown the anchor rope scrambled the monkey with the agility and speed for which monkeys are famous. Mr. Wicker was already in the boat.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"How shall it be, sir?\"<|quote_end|> came the low voice of Chris. \"Shall I become a beaver and go down and gnaw the rope off at the anchor?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"\n\nTaking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"Shall I become a beaver and go down and gnaw the rope off at the anchor?\"", "start_byte": 156876, "end_byte": 156950, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 679.854970703125, "cut_end_time": 683.1700332031251, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "As he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\n\"Hm-mm. Hic! Jewels! Hup!\" came from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\nDown the anchor rope scrambled the monkey with the agility and speed for which monkeys are famous. Mr. Wicker was already in the boat.\n\n\"How shall it be, sir?\" came the low voice of Chris. <|quote_start|>\"Shall I become a beaver and go down and gnaw the rope off at the anchor?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Wicker. \"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"\n\nTaking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"", "start_byte": 156975, "end_byte": 157081, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 685.895009765625, "cut_end_time": 691.600009765625, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "As he got up, stumbling and thrashing about in the uncertainty of his movements, his chair crashed to the floor and the monkey made a leap, cuffing the lantern from its hook. The light was dashed out, and in the dark as he jumped, the monkey seized the creased, well-thumbed paper as he leaped back toward the pale square that was the window. Behind it Claggett Chew's oaths and exclamations became fainter as the spicy scent grew stronger, and at last his mutterings trailed off into snorts and, finally, snores. The monkey, clutching the paper to itself, sat on the window ledge stuffing it into the pouch about its neck, and a monkey smile flitted across its face as it heard a final dreaming sound from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\n\"Hm-mm. Hic! Jewels! Hup!\" came from Osterbridge Hawsey.\n\nDown the anchor rope scrambled the monkey with the agility and speed for which monkeys are famous. Mr. Wicker was already in the boat.\n\n\"How shall it be, sir?\" came the low voice of Chris. \"Shall I become a beaver and go down and gnaw the rope off at the anchor?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Wicker. <|quote_start|>\"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTaking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.\n\n\"Now!\" came Mr. Wicker's low voice. \"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"\n\nHe only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"", "start_byte": 157410, "end_byte": 157447, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 712.8549877929688, "cut_end_time": 714.8401127929687, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\"It can be more easily done than that and nothing to trace it. Get in the boat. Here comes the Mirabelle.\"\n\nTaking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.\n\n\"Now!\" came Mr. Wicker's low voice. <|quote_start|>\"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.\n\n\"Will she go where she should, sir?\" Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n\"That she will, Christopher!\" came the familiar voice in the dark. \"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"Will she go where she should, sir?", "start_byte": 157618, "end_byte": 157653, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 725.0650048828126, "cut_end_time": 726.8000673828125, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "Taking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.\n\n\"Now!\" came Mr. Wicker's low voice. \"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"\n\nHe only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Will she go where she should, sir?\"<|quote_end|> Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n\"That she will, Christopher!\" came the familiar voice in the dark. \"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,\" and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n\"Pull, boy!\" his master told him sharply.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wanted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "know": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "leaning": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"That she will, Christopher!", "start_byte": 157695, "end_byte": 157723, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 729.3050122070313, "cut_end_time": 731.1700122070313, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "Taking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.\n\n\"Now!\" came Mr. Wicker's low voice. \"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"\n\nHe only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.\n\n\"Will she go where she should, sir?\" Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"That she will, Christopher!\"<|quote_end|> came the familiar voice in the dark. \"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,\" and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n\"Pull, boy!\" his master told him sharply. \"Here she comes!\"\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,", "start_byte": 157762, "end_byte": 157979, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 733.4249853515626, "cut_end_time": 747.5600478515626, "narration": {"text": "He only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.", "cut_start_time": 715.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 724.6400698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "Taking his own shape once more, Chris saw the white ghost-like sides of the Mirabelle soundlessly passing down stream. Not a creak nor a splash of water came from her as she passed, but from the stern a tiny light, struck by a flint perhaps, blinked once, and twice, and then a third time.\n\n\"Now!\" came Mr. Wicker's low voice. \"Let me have my hand upon that rope!\"\n\nHe only seemed to hold the anchor rope a moment and give it an easy pull. The tugging strain was suddenly gone and the Venture veered away like a frightened waterfowl.\n\n\"Will she go where she should, sir?\" Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n\"That she will, Christopher!\" came the familiar voice in the dark. <|quote_start|>\"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,\"<|quote_end|> and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n\"Pull, boy!\" his master told him sharply. \"Here she comes!\"\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"heard": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"Pull, boy!", "start_byte": 158038, "end_byte": 158049, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 754.2550268554688, "cut_end_time": 755.3500893554688, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "\"Will she go where she should, sir?\" Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n\"That she will, Christopher!\" came the familiar voice in the dark. \"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,\" and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Pull, boy!\"<|quote_end|> his master told him sharply. \"Here she comes!\"\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\"Here she comes!\"", "start_byte": 158080, "end_byte": 158097, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 757.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 758.2801201171875, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris wanted to know, leaning forward.\n\n\"That she will, Christopher!\" came the familiar voice in the dark. \"And we must get out of her way, for here she comes down at us. The wind and the tide and -- hm-m -- other forces will drive her solidly upon the bar. If I mistake not, it will be several days before they get her off,\" and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n\"Pull, boy!\" his master told him sharply. <|quote_start|>\"Here she comes!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"\n\n\"Oh, sir!\" Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"", "start_byte": 158418, "end_byte": 158489, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 778.1450170898438, "cut_end_time": 781.7000795898438, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_49.flac"}, "context": "\" and on the night air Chris heard a faint short chuckle.\n\n\"Pull, boy!\" his master told him sharply. \"Here she comes!\"\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Oh, sir!\" Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.\n\n\"I shall miss you too, my lad,\" he said. \"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_49.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\"Oh, sir!", "start_byte": 158491, "end_byte": 158500, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 782.6650244140625, "cut_end_time": 783.8400244140626, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_50.flac"}, "context": "\" his master told him sharply. \"Here she comes!\"\n\nChris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh, sir!\"<|quote_end|> Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.\n\n\"I shall miss you too, my lad,\" he said. \"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\" They pulled at the oars.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_50.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\"I shall miss you too, my lad,", "start_byte": 158688, "end_byte": 158718, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 795.3050268554688, "cut_end_time": 797.1200268554687, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_51.flac"}, "context": "Chris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"\n\n\"Oh, sir!\" Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I shall miss you too, my lad,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\" They pulled at the oars. \"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_51.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "\"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.", "start_byte": 158729, "end_byte": 158901, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 797.9150268554688, "cut_end_time": 808.0000268554687, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_52.flac"}, "context": "Chris grasped his oar and spun the boat only in time, for the down-flowing tide and rising wind combined to drive the Venture forward at increasing speed. The tide being still high, the ship was carried well upon the sandbar before it grounded, lolling over to one side much like the sleeping sailors.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, lad! Now we must catch the Mirabelle, and you and I must part.\"\n\n\"Oh, sir!\" Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.\n\n\"I shall miss you too, my lad,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\"<|quote_end|> They pulled at the oars. \"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_52.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"", "start_byte": 158928, "end_byte": 159155, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 809.65501953125, "cut_end_time": 823.15001953125, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_53.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.\n\n\"I shall miss you too, my lad,\" he said. \"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\" They pulled at the oars. <|quote_start|>\"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_53.flac", "original_index": 58}, {"text": "\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?", "start_byte": 159157, "end_byte": 159185, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 823.7149853515625, "cut_end_time": 825.6900478515626, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_54.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\" They pulled at the oars. \"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\"<|quote_end|> Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_54.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "\"What about getting you to shore, sir?", "start_byte": 159275, "end_byte": 159313, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 832.3450170898437, "cut_end_time": 834.1300170898438, "narration": {"text": " Chris cried, holding his oar above the water and turning his head toward the man beside him. Mr. Wicker clapped Chris on the shoulder and a glint of moonlight showed him to be smiling.", "cut_start_time": 784.505, "cut_end_time": 794.1100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_55.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, let us send this boat over the river as fast as she can go. And bear in mind -- keep your own shape at all times unless you can change it out of sight of prying eyes.\" They pulled at the oars. \"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\"<|quote_end|> Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.", "narrative_information_pred": {"enquired": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_55.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?", "start_byte": 159410, "end_byte": 159447, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 839.6550244140625, "cut_end_time": 842.4400244140626, "narration": {"text": " Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.", "cut_start_time": 834.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 839.0201030273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_56.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\"<|quote_end|> he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\" he cried.\n\n\"All that I can, Christopher", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_56.flac", "original_index": 62}, {"text": "\"No sir,", "start_byte": 159474, "end_byte": 159482, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 844.3450073242187, "cut_end_time": 845.3700073242188, "narration": {"text": " Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.", "cut_start_time": 834.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 839.0201030273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_57.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No sir,\"<|quote_end|> said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\" he cried.\n\n\"All that I can, Christopher,\" came the distant voice. \"Godspeed!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_57.flac", "original_index": 63}, {"text": "\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,", "start_byte": 159521, "end_byte": 159584, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 848.125009765625, "cut_end_time": 851.860009765625, "narration": {"text": " Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.", "cut_start_time": 834.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 839.0201030273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_58.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Among the effects placed in your sea chest you will find a conch shell. Hold it to your ear, Christopher, as children do to hear the sea. You will be able to hear my voice, if ever you should need to.\"\n\n\"Oh -- like a walkie-talkie?\" Chris asked, pulling at his oar.\n\n\"Somewhat.\" And Chris knew his master smiled at him.\n\n\"What about getting you to shore, sir?\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\" he cried.\n\n\"All that I can, Christopher,\" came the distant voice. \"Godspeed!\"\n\nAnd looking about, Chris made out, coasting on the air, a sea gull, balancing upon its black-tipped wings. Swallowing a lump in his throat that proved bothersome, Chris jerked at one oar and deftly coiled the magic rope over his arm, holding to the ship's ladder with the other.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_58.flac", "original_index": 64}, {"text": "\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!", "start_byte": 159764, "end_byte": 159818, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 862.315, "cut_end_time": 865.0, "narration": {"text": "Chris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.", "cut_start_time": 856.524990234375, "cut_end_time": 861.710052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_59.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris enquired, pulling in rhythm so that the rope boat flew down the black and silver river.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\"<|quote_end|> he cried.\n\n\"All that I can, Christopher,\" came the distant voice. \"Godspeed!\"\n\nAnd looking about, Chris made out, coasting on the air, a sea gull, balancing upon its black-tipped wings. Swallowing a lump in his throat that proved bothersome, Chris jerked at one oar and deftly coiled the magic rope over his arm, holding to the ship's ladder with the other.\n\nA signal flashed, a lantern swung in an arc, and dim figures waiting in their places hauled on the lines. As Chris stepped to the deck over the side, the great white sails rose, spread, and bellied out from the three masts. Chris looked in wonder as the Mirabelle, proud as a woman, lifted up her head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_59.flac", "original_index": 65}, {"text": "\"All that I can, Christopher,", "start_byte": 159831, "end_byte": 159860, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 866.1450170898438, "cut_end_time": 868.0700170898438, "narration": {"text": "Chris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.", "cut_start_time": 856.524990234375, "cut_end_time": 861.710052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_60.flac"}, "context": "\"Have you forgotten who I am, my boy?\" he was asked in return.\n\n\"No sir,\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\" he cried.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"All that I can, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> came the distant voice. \"Godspeed!\"\n\nAnd looking about, Chris made out, coasting on the air, a sea gull, balancing upon its black-tipped wings. Swallowing a lump in his throat that proved bothersome, Chris jerked at one oar and deftly coiled the magic rope over his arm, holding to the ship's ladder with the other.\n\nA signal flashed, a lantern swung in an arc, and dim figures waiting in their places hauled on the lines. As Chris stepped to the deck over the side, the great white sails rose, spread, and bellied out from the three masts. Chris looked in wonder as the Mirabelle, proud as a woman, lifted up her head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_60.flac", "original_index": 66}, {"text": "\"Godspeed!\"", "start_byte": 159886, "end_byte": 159897, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 870.0250219726563, "cut_end_time": 871.7000219726563, "narration": {"text": "Chris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.", "cut_start_time": 856.524990234375, "cut_end_time": 861.710052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_61.flac"}, "context": "\" said Chris, feeling a little small.\n\n\"Then undo the dinghy and clamber up the side, for here we are,\" said Mr. Wicker, and the towering hull of the Mirabelle rose above them.\n\nChris grasped a rope ladder that hung down beside them to the water's edge and turned for a last word.\n\n\"I'll do my best, sir, but I hope you'll stay with me!\" he cried.\n\n\"All that I can, Christopher,\" came the distant voice. <|quote_start|>\"Godspeed!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAnd looking about, Chris made out, coasting on the air, a sea gull, balancing upon its black-tipped wings. Swallowing a lump in his throat that proved bothersome, Chris jerked at one oar and deftly coiled the magic rope over his arm, holding to the ship's ladder with the other.\n\nA signal flashed, a lantern swung in an arc, and dim figures waiting in their places hauled on the lines. As Chris stepped to the deck over the side, the great white sails rose, spread, and bellied out from the three masts. Chris looked in wonder as the Mirabelle, proud as a woman, lifted up her head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_18_dawson_64kb_61.flac", "original_index": 67}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..fa4a3b525dd3ab4d773b27383cb334c7cf0feeb9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Should the wind keep up as it is now, by nightfall or by dawn at the latest, we should sight Tahiti. We've water and fresh stores to take on there.", "start_byte": 177388, "end_byte": 177536, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 138.19500183105467, "cut_end_time": 146.94000183105467, "narration": {"text": "Chris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.", "cut_start_time": 286.1050048828125, "cut_end_time": 293.2100673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Or did he? Chris wrinkled his brow with concentration. I guess so, he thought, but I don't know so. It looks to me as if it could have been one of several people, and I'll be switched if I know who. I'll keep my eyes open. Maybe whoever it was will give himself away somehow and give me a clue.\n\nThe Mirabelle was nearing Tahiti. The air was balmy, and already a different fragrance pervaded it, together with a softer quality which Chris now knew meant land.\n\nAt noon one day Captain Blizzard announced to Chris and Amos: <|quote_start|>\"Should the wind keep up as it is now, by nightfall or by dawn at the latest, we should sight Tahiti. We've water and fresh stores to take on there.\"<|quote_end|> He beamed over his many chins at the two boys. \"'Tis a fair place, is Tahiti, and one you lads will have an interest and a pleasure in seeing.\"\n\nChris lost no time, as soon as he could do it without being noticed, in hurrying down to his cabin. Locking the door, he took the conch shell from his sea chest and held it to his ear. The voice of his friend -- so far distant now! -- came to his ear and Chris smiled with the pleasure this brief link with home gave him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"'Tis a fair place, is Tahiti, and one you lads will have an interest and a pleasure in seeing.\"", "start_byte": 177585, "end_byte": 177681, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 150.49500549316406, "cut_end_time": 156.79000549316405, "narration": {"text": "Chris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.", "cut_start_time": 286.1050048828125, "cut_end_time": 293.2100673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Or did he? Chris wrinkled his brow with concentration. I guess so, he thought, but I don't know so. It looks to me as if it could have been one of several people, and I'll be switched if I know who. I'll keep my eyes open. Maybe whoever it was will give himself away somehow and give me a clue.\n\nThe Mirabelle was nearing Tahiti. The air was balmy, and already a different fragrance pervaded it, together with a softer quality which Chris now knew meant land.\n\nAt noon one day Captain Blizzard announced to Chris and Amos: \"Should the wind keep up as it is now, by nightfall or by dawn at the latest, we should sight Tahiti. We've water and fresh stores to take on there.\" He beamed over his many chins at the two boys. <|quote_start|>\"'Tis a fair place, is Tahiti, and one you lads will have an interest and a pleasure in seeing.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris lost no time, as soon as he could do it without being noticed, in hurrying down to his cabin. Locking the door, he took the conch shell from his sea chest and held it to his ear. The voice of his friend -- so far distant now! -- came to his ear and Chris smiled with the pleasure this brief link with home gave him.\n\n\"Nearly to Tahiti, eh, my lad?\" came Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Then listen carefully. Ask for a private interview with the Captain, and when you are alone with him, tell him that these are my orders: He is to sail on past his usual anchorage, making all speed. You will know the reason for it at sundown today. Tell Captain Blizzard to go around the point -- he will know -- and continue for twelve leagues farther on. This must be done by night, for he must not slacken. Then he will see by moonlight a reef. The water is phosphorescent, and when it breaks over the reef it will shine in the night. Then must he heave to, and you will go over the side, and as a fish, find out the channel, for the coral is dangerous and the way into the cove almost impossible to find even by day.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Nearly to Tahiti, eh, my lad?", "start_byte": 178006, "end_byte": 178036, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 175.74500122070313, "cut_end_time": 178.40006372070312, "narration": {"text": "Chris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.", "cut_start_time": 286.1050048828125, "cut_end_time": 293.2100673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"'Tis a fair place, is Tahiti, and one you lads will have an interest and a pleasure in seeing.\"\n\nChris lost no time, as soon as he could do it without being noticed, in hurrying down to his cabin. Locking the door, he took the conch shell from his sea chest and held it to his ear. The voice of his friend -- so far distant now! -- came to his ear and Chris smiled with the pleasure this brief link with home gave him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Nearly to Tahiti, eh, my lad?\"<|quote_end|> came Mr. Wicker's voice. \"Then listen carefully. Ask for a private interview with the Captain, and when you are alone with him, tell him that these are my orders: He is to sail on past his usual anchorage, making all speed. You will know the reason for it at sundown today. Tell Captain Blizzard to go around the point -- he will know -- and continue for twelve leagues farther on. This must be done by night, for he must not slacken. Then he will see by moonlight a reef. The water is phosphorescent, and when it breaks over the reef it will shine in the night. Then must he heave to, and you will go over the side, and as a fish, find out the channel, for the coral is dangerous and the way into the cove almost impossible to find even by day.", "narrative_information_pred": {"came": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Is all this clear?\"", "start_byte": 179797, "end_byte": 179817, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 285.940009765625, "narration": {"text": "Chris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.", "cut_start_time": 286.1050048828125, "cut_end_time": 293.2100673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"Let the men rest, but by midafternoon have them hide along the shore facing the sea, for they shall all be witnesses to what is to transpire. Then you must do your part, for you must board Claggett Chew's ship and see to it that his vessel does not gain many days' advantage over the Mirabelle. By daylight the Mirabelle will find her way safely to sea again, and you will rejoin her with the aid of the rope.\" The voice paused and then enquired, <|quote_start|>\"Is all this clear?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.\n\nGoing up to the Captain's cabin, he took advantage of a moment when Mr. Finney and Amos were outside to ask Captain Blizzard if he might speak with him alone.\n\n\"Certainly my boy,\" boomed out the Captain, his blue eyes abruptly keen and penetrating. \"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"\n\nHe motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.", "narrative_information_pred": {"enquired": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Certainly my boy,", "start_byte": 180081, "end_byte": 180099, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 302.56499023437505, "cut_end_time": 303.760115234375, "narration": {"text": "Going up to the Captain's cabin, he took advantage of a moment when Mr. Finney and Amos were outside to ask Captain Blizzard if he might speak with him alone.", "cut_start_time": 293.3950122070313, "cut_end_time": 302.19001220703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Let the men rest, but by midafternoon have them hide along the shore facing the sea, for they shall all be witnesses to what is to transpire. Then you must do your part, for you must board Claggett Chew's ship and see to it that his vessel does not gain many days' advantage over the Mirabelle. By daylight the Mirabelle will find her way safely to sea again, and you will rejoin her with the aid of the rope.\" The voice paused and then enquired, \"Is all this clear?\"\n\nChris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.\n\nGoing up to the Captain's cabin, he took advantage of a moment when Mr. Finney and Amos were outside to ask Captain Blizzard if he might speak with him alone.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Certainly my boy,\"<|quote_end|> boomed out the Captain, his blue eyes abruptly keen and penetrating. \"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"\n\nHe motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.\n\nWhen he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"boomed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"", "start_byte": 180170, "end_byte": 180241, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 307.74500610351566, "cut_end_time": 311.7300061035156, "narration": {"text": "When he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.", "cut_start_time": 323.91498779296876, "cut_end_time": 333.1501127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"Let the men rest, but by midafternoon have them hide along the shore facing the sea, for they shall all be witnesses to what is to transpire. Then you must do your part, for you must board Claggett Chew's ship and see to it that his vessel does not gain many days' advantage over the Mirabelle. By daylight the Mirabelle will find her way safely to sea again, and you will rejoin her with the aid of the rope.\" The voice paused and then enquired, \"Is all this clear?\"\n\nChris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the prospect of the imminent action.\n\nGoing up to the Captain's cabin, he took advantage of a moment when Mr. Finney and Amos were outside to ask Captain Blizzard if he might speak with him alone.\n\n\"Certainly my boy,\" boomed out the Captain, his blue eyes abruptly keen and penetrating. <|quote_start|>\"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.\n\nWhen he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.\n\n\"How now, lad,\" he said in his deep voice, \"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"boomed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"How now, lad,", "start_byte": 180628, "end_byte": 180642, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 334.2150036621094, "cut_end_time": 336.0600036621094, "narration": {"text": "When he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.", "cut_start_time": 323.91498779296876, "cut_end_time": 333.1501127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"\n\nHe motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.\n\nWhen he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"How now, lad,\"<|quote_end|> he said in his deep voice, \"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"\n\nThis was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.\n\n\"I -- I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir,\" he said, \"and I'm a very strong swimmer.\"\n\nHis face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer, and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering. Then he said:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "deep": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"", "start_byte": 180671, "end_byte": 180717, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 338.03500488281253, "cut_end_time": 340.83000488281255, "narration": {"text": "When he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.", "cut_start_time": 323.91498779296876, "cut_end_time": 333.1501127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot be overheard in here.\"\n\nHe motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.\n\nWhen he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.\n\n\"How now, lad,\" he said in his deep voice, <|quote_start|>\"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThis was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.\n\n\"I -- I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir,\" he said, \"and I'm a very strong swimmer.\"\n\nHis face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer, and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering. Then he said:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "deep": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I -- I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir,", "start_byte": 180849, "end_byte": 180899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 349.80498535156255, "cut_end_time": 352.9900478515625, "narration": {"text": "This was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.", "cut_start_time": 341.6949987792969, "cut_end_time": 348.3400612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "He motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to sit down, and delivered his message standing.\n\nWhen he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.\n\n\"How now, lad,\" he said in his deep voice, \"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"\n\nThis was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I -- I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"and I'm a very strong swimmer.\"\n\nHis face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer, and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering. Then he said: \"Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have, young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad, clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a cove I never even guessed at, wel", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"and I'm a very strong swimmer.\"", "start_byte": 180910, "end_byte": 180942, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 354.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 356.08007470703126, "narration": {"text": "This was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.", "cut_start_time": 341.6949987792969, "cut_end_time": 348.3400612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "When he described how in the night -- that very night, he realized with a jumping pulse -- he was to go over the side of the Mirabelle and find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.\n\n\"How now, lad,\" he said in his deep voice, \"how are you to find the channel in the dark?\"\n\nThis was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.\n\n\"I -- I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"and I'm a very strong swimmer.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer, and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering. Then he said: \"Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have, young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad, clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a cove I never even guessed at, wel", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"You can understand I do not fancy it. However,", "start_byte": 181522, "end_byte": 181569, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 393.7949938964844, "cut_end_time": 396.9900563964844, "narration": {"text": "This was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.", "cut_start_time": 341.6949987792969, "cut_end_time": 348.3400612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "His face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer, and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering. Then he said: \"Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have, young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad, clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a cove I never even guessed at, well\" -- he threw out a hand and then rubbed his chin with it -- <|quote_start|>\"You can understand I do not fancy it. However,\"<|quote_end|> and he leaned back in his chair again, \"I take orders from Mr. Wicker, the owner of the Mirabelle, and since he says so, this is how it must be.\"\n\nHe paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.\n\n\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"I take orders from Mr. Wicker, the owner of the Mirabelle, and since he says so, this is how it must be.\"", "start_byte": 181610, "end_byte": 181716, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 400.8350073242188, "cut_end_time": 407.1700698242188, "narration": {"text": "This was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.", "cut_start_time": 341.6949987792969, "cut_end_time": 348.3400612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have, young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad, clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a cove I never even guessed at, well\" -- he threw out a hand and then rubbed his chin with it -- \"You can understand I do not fancy it. However,\" and he leaned back in his chair again, <|quote_start|>\"I take orders from Mr. Wicker, the owner of the Mirabelle, and since he says so, this is how it must be.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.\n\n\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"\n\nChris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but he spoke up firmly. \"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"leaned": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"", "start_byte": 181829, "end_byte": 182039, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 413.81499755859375, "cut_end_time": 427.0300600585938, "narration": {"text": "He paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.", "cut_start_time": 407.6650024414063, "cut_end_time": 412.9500024414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have, young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad, clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a cove I never even guessed at, well\" -- he threw out a hand and then rubbed his chin with it -- \"You can understand I do not fancy it. However,\" and he leaned back in his chair again, \"I take orders from Mr. Wicker, the owner of the Mirabelle, and since he says so, this is how it must be.\"\n\nHe paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but he spoke up firmly. \"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. \"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"\n\n\"I shall sir,\" Chris replied.\n\nHe then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"", "start_byte": 182132, "end_byte": 182196, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.06500122070315, "cut_end_time": 437.88006372070316, "narration": {"text": "Chris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but he spoke up firmly.", "cut_start_time": 427.5849987792969, "cut_end_time": 432.3701237792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"I take orders from Mr. Wicker, the owner of the Mirabelle, and since he says so, this is how it must be.\"\n\nHe paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.\n\n\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"\n\nChris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but he spoke up firmly. <|quote_start|>\"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nCaptain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. \"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"\n\n\"I shall sir,\" Chris replied.\n\nHe then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\" Chris ended,", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "up": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 8}, "firmly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"", "start_byte": 182263, "end_byte": 182326, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.6349975585938, "cut_end_time": 447.5300600585938, "narration": {"text": " Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.", "cut_start_time": 472.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 480.18007714843753, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in your hands.\"\n\nChris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but he spoke up firmly. \"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. <|quote_start|>\"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I shall sir,\" Chris replied.\n\nHe then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\" Chris ended, \"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?\" Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.", "narrative_information_pred": {"smile": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,", "start_byte": 182575, "end_byte": 182615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 463.4249951171875, "cut_end_time": 466.9401201171875, "narration": {"text": " Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.", "cut_start_time": 472.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 480.18007714843753, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should not try, sir.\"\n\nCaptain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. \"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"\n\n\"I shall sir,\" Chris replied.\n\nHe then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\"<|quote_end|> Chris ended, \"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?\" Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,\" he said. \"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time", "narrative_information_pred": {"ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?", "start_byte": 182630, "end_byte": 182698, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 468.1549914550782, "cut_end_time": 472.66011645507814, "narration": {"text": " Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.", "cut_start_time": 472.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 480.18007714843753, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Captain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. \"Aye, aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?\"\n\n\"I shall sir,\" Chris replied.\n\nHe then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\" Chris ended, <|quote_start|>\"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?\"<|quote_end|> Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,\" he said. \"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time", "narrative_information_pred": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,", "start_byte": 182855, "end_byte": 182907, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 481.2549987792969, "cut_end_time": 484.0600612792969, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "He then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\" Chris ended, \"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?\" Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,\" he added with his eyes twinkling. \"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,", "start_byte": 182918, "end_byte": 183177, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 485.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 501.1501127929688, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "He then went on to describe what else was to follow -- the covering of the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings. Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet understood.\n\n\"After we see -- whatever we are to see,\" Chris ended, \"I'll be absent for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?\" Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,\"<|quote_end|> he added with his eyes twinkling. \"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole!\" He winked at Chris. \"Have no fear on that score, Christopher.\" He looked steadily at the boy in front of him. \"You have your part to carry out, I have mine.\"\n\nNot since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "twinkling": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole!", "start_byte": 183213, "end_byte": 183361, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 503.474990234375, "cut_end_time": 512.780052734375, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\" Chris thought to ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher,\" he said. \"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,\" he added with his eyes twinkling. <|quote_start|>\"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole!\"<|quote_end|> He winked at Chris. \"Have no fear on that score, Christopher.\" He looked steadily at the boy in front of him. \"You have your part to carry out, I have mine.\"\n\nNot since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.\n\nTheir conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.", "narrative_information_pred": {"winked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Have no fear on that score, Christopher.", "start_byte": 183383, "end_byte": 183424, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 513.8249755859375, "cut_end_time": 515.7700380859375, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,\" he added with his eyes twinkling. \"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole!\" He winked at Chris. <|quote_start|>\"Have no fear on that score, Christopher.\"<|quote_end|> He looked steadily at the boy in front of him. \"You have your part to carry out, I have mine.\"\n\nNot since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.\n\nTheir conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "steadily": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"You have your part to carry out, I have mine.\"", "start_byte": 183473, "end_byte": 183520, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 518.61498046875, "cut_end_time": 521.42010546875, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"I am somewhat skilled in medicaments -- I have to be, as captain of a ship, and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It will be a most contagious fever for a time,\" he added with his eyes twinkling. \"I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing much -- broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot throw it out the porthole!\" He winked at Chris. \"Have no fear on that score, Christopher.\" He looked steadily at the boy in front of him. <|quote_start|>\"You have your part to carry out, I have mine.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nNot since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.\n\nTheir conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "steadily": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Oh sir!", "start_byte": 184025, "end_byte": 184033, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 551.1150048828125, "cut_end_time": 552.3700048828125, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Not since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.\n\nTheir conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh sir!\"<|quote_end|> he cried, \"Mr. Wicker said we'd know the reason why we must take shelter tomorrow at sundown today. And now it is sundown!\"\n\nWith quite surprising silence and agility for so large a man, Captain Blizzard was out of his chair and half-way to the door of his cabin before Chris had much more than finished speaking. Over his shoulder, continuing with rapid quiet steps to the bridge of the Mirabelle, he said: \"Run down to your cabin and fetch up that good spyglass of yours, my boy. We shall have a good look, for as you know, night falls in a few moments after sundown in these waters.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Mr. Wicker said we'd know the reason why we must take shelter tomorrow at sundown today. And now it is sundown!\"", "start_byte": 184045, "end_byte": 184158, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 554.1750048828126, "cut_end_time": 560.3900048828125, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Not since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and satisfactorily accounted for.\n\nTheir conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.\n\n\"Oh sir!\" he cried, <|quote_start|>\"Mr. Wicker said we'd know the reason why we must take shelter tomorrow at sundown today. And now it is sundown!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nWith quite surprising silence and agility for so large a man, Captain Blizzard was out of his chair and half-way to the door of his cabin before Chris had much more than finished speaking. Over his shoulder, continuing with rapid quiet steps to the bridge of the Mirabelle, he said: \"Run down to your cabin and fetch up that good spyglass of yours, my boy. We shall have a good look, for as you know, night falls in a few moments after sundown in these waters.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Run down to your cabin and fetch up that good spyglass of yours, my boy. We shall have a good look, for as you know, night falls in a few moments after sundown in these waters.\"", "start_byte": 184443, "end_byte": 184621, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 575.71501953125, "cut_end_time": 586.89001953125, "narration": {"text": "Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky meet.", "cut_start_time": 638.3349780273438, "cut_end_time": 646.2200405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Their conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.\n\n\"Oh sir!\" he cried, \"Mr. Wicker said we'd know the reason why we must take shelter tomorrow at sundown today. And now it is sundown!\"\n\nWith quite surprising silence and agility for so large a man, Captain Blizzard was out of his chair and half-way to the door of his cabin before Chris had much more than finished speaking. Over his shoulder, continuing with rapid quiet steps to the bridge of the Mirabelle, he said: <|quote_start|>\"Run down to your cabin and fetch up that good spyglass of yours, my boy. We shall have a good look, for as you know, night falls in a few moments after sundown in these waters.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nRacing to his cabin and back, even in those few seconds Chris could see a change in the sky. The brilliance of the colors, their extravagant and awe-inspiring cloud effects, had taken on an intensity of light which meant they were at their peak.\n\nStanding beside Captain Blizzard on the bridge, Mr. Finney and Amos just beyond, Chris and the Captain looked through Chris's powerful spyglass at the wide stretch of the horizon.\n\nAll around lay only the sea and the dazzling sky. Not even a porpoise or flying fish broke the surface of the water which was placid save for the long swells over which the Mirabelle dipped her white sails. The color ebbed from the sky as if drained from some celestial bowl, and in the place of the scarlets and turquoise, the clear yellows and the plums, came a deep blue that was the forerunner of a fine clear night.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_21_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b7b2075fb3118ff11431e3b697bd4fad585028b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Oh, Lordy, Lordy!", "start_byte": 206622, "end_byte": 206640, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 78.89500122070312, "cut_end_time": 80.74000122070312, "narration": {"text": "Then Ned Cilley, oldest of the Mirabelle's sailors, came panting up from the cove and Zachary's grave to look out from the leaves at the base of the boys' tree.", "cut_start_time": 69.66500061035156, "cut_end_time": 78.00006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Remembering their orders the men rushed over from the cove but remained hidden behind trees or shrubs. Chris and Amos climbed a tree from whose branches they had a fine unobstructed view up and down the coast. To the left, far distant, a point of land jutted out into the sea, tropical trees carrying their green out in a long curve. To the right, just appearing from the direction in which they themselves had come a few hours previously, came a majestic ship black from stem to stern. Black was its hull, but black too were its sails. It looked exceedingly ominous on the afternoon blue of the sea, and as it came almost level with the channel to the cove, its sails were lowered and the watchers on shore could hear the splash of the anchor as it was heaved overboard.\n\nThen Ned Cilley, oldest of the Mirabelle's sailors, came panting up from the cove and Zachary's grave to look out from the leaves at the base of the boys' tree.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh, Lordy, Lordy!\"<|quote_end|> he exclaimed when he caught sight of the black ship, the last of her somber sails being taken in, \"what did I tell you, lads?\" he cried, addressing anyone and everyone near enough to hear him. \"That be the Black Vulture, the pirate ship. No vessel is safe near the Black Vulture! What a God's mercy that all of us, and the Mirabelle, are out of sight, for the men aboard the Vulture know no pity, lads!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"what did I tell you, lads?", "start_byte": 206740, "end_byte": 206767, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 86.41499694824218, "cut_end_time": 87.71005944824218, "narration": {"text": " he exclaimed when he caught sight of the black ship, the last of her somber sails being taken in,", "cut_start_time": 81.20499725341796, "cut_end_time": 86.16005975341797, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Remembering their orders the men rushed over from the cove but remained hidden behind trees or shrubs. Chris and Amos climbed a tree from whose branches they had a fine unobstructed view up and down the coast. To the left, far distant, a point of land jutted out into the sea, tropical trees carrying their green out in a long curve. To the right, just appearing from the direction in which they themselves had come a few hours previously, came a majestic ship black from stem to stern. Black was its hull, but black too were its sails. It looked exceedingly ominous on the afternoon blue of the sea, and as it came almost level with the channel to the cove, its sails were lowered and the watchers on shore could hear the splash of the anchor as it was heaved overboard.\n\nThen Ned Cilley, oldest of the Mirabelle's sailors, came panting up from the cove and Zachary's grave to look out from the leaves at the base of the boys' tree.\n\n\"Oh, Lordy, Lordy!\" he exclaimed when he caught sight of the black ship, the last of her somber sails being taken in, <|quote_start|>\"what did I tell you, lads?\"<|quote_end|> he cried, addressing anyone and everyone near enough to hear him. \"That be the Black Vulture, the pirate ship. No vessel is safe near the Black Vulture! What a God's mercy that all of us, and the Mirabelle, are out of sight, for the men aboard the Vulture know no pity, lads!\"\n\nGrowls and murmurs rumbled along the shore from clump to clump of leaves where the men stood hidden. Chris pulled his spyglass from his pocket and looked eagerly at the pirate ship only a little way out from shore.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"That be the Black Vulture, the pirate ship. No vessel is safe near the Black Vulture! What a God's mercy that all of us, and the Mirabelle, are out of sight, for the men aboard the Vulture know no pity, lads!\"", "start_byte": 206835, "end_byte": 207045, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 92.01499816894531, "cut_end_time": 103.22006066894531, "narration": {"text": " he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows,", "cut_start_time": 137.49500183105468, "cut_end_time": 142.4800018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Remembering their orders the men rushed over from the cove but remained hidden behind trees or shrubs. Chris and Amos climbed a tree from whose branches they had a fine unobstructed view up and down the coast. To the left, far distant, a point of land jutted out into the sea, tropical trees carrying their green out in a long curve. To the right, just appearing from the direction in which they themselves had come a few hours previously, came a majestic ship black from stem to stern. Black was its hull, but black too were its sails. It looked exceedingly ominous on the afternoon blue of the sea, and as it came almost level with the channel to the cove, its sails were lowered and the watchers on shore could hear the splash of the anchor as it was heaved overboard.\n\nThen Ned Cilley, oldest of the Mirabelle's sailors, came panting up from the cove and Zachary's grave to look out from the leaves at the base of the boys' tree.\n\n\"Oh, Lordy, Lordy!\" he exclaimed when he caught sight of the black ship, the last of her somber sails being taken in, \"what did I tell you, lads?\" he cried, addressing anyone and everyone near enough to hear him. <|quote_start|>\"That be the Black Vulture, the pirate ship. No vessel is safe near the Black Vulture! What a God's mercy that all of us, and the Mirabelle, are out of sight, for the men aboard the Vulture know no pity, lads!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGrowls and murmurs rumbled along the shore from clump to clump of leaves where the men stood hidden. Chris pulled his spyglass from his pocket and looked eagerly at the pirate ship only a little way out from shore.\n\nIt looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"", "start_byte": 207680, "end_byte": 207736, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 143.1649951171875, "cut_end_time": 147.0800576171875, "narration": {"text": " he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows,", "cut_start_time": 137.49500183105468, "cut_end_time": 142.4800018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Growls and murmurs rumbled along the shore from clump to clump of leaves where the men stood hidden. Chris pulled his spyglass from his pocket and looked eagerly at the pirate ship only a little way out from shore.\n\nIt looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.\n\n\"Ned!\" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, <|quote_start|>\"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "softly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Aye lad, that they do,", "start_byte": 207738, "end_byte": 207761, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 148.03499633789062, "cut_end_time": 149.64012133789063, "narration": {"text": " he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows,", "cut_start_time": 137.49500183105468, "cut_end_time": 142.4800018310547, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "It looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.\n\n\"Ned!\" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, \"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aye lad, that they do,\"<|quote_end|> Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"\n\n\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "puzzled": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?", "start_byte": 207842, "end_byte": 207930, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 155.18500671386718, "cut_end_time": 159.50000671386718, "narration": {"text": " Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel.", "cut_start_time": 162.47499572753907, "cut_end_time": 166.86005822753907, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "It looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.\n\n\"Ned!\" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, \"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"\n\n\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\"<|quote_end|> Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"\n\n\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\" Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.", "narrative_information_pred": {"persisted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Aye, that it be.", "start_byte": 207950, "end_byte": 207967, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 161.1749932861328, "cut_end_time": 162.4500557861328, "narration": {"text": " Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel.", "cut_start_time": 162.47499572753907, "cut_end_time": 166.86005822753907, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "It looked familiar, although Chris had had time to see so few ships he could not be certain. He shifted the glass, looking at details here and there, and at the name in gold carved letters against the black-painted side. Vulture. The letters stood out neat and clear and then Chris's heart stopped and started again.\n\n\"Ned!\" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, \"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"\n\n\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aye, that it be.\"<|quote_end|> Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"\n\n\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\" Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?", "start_byte": 208065, "end_byte": 208103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 167.29499511718748, "cut_end_time": 169.56005761718748, "narration": {"text": " Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel.", "cut_start_time": 162.47499572753907, "cut_end_time": 166.86005822753907, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Ned!\" he called down softly, for sound carries far and clearly over water, as every sailor knows, \"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"\n\n\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. <|quote_start|>\"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\"<|quote_end|> Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"\n\n\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\" Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"What's in your mind?\"", "start_byte": 208116, "end_byte": 208138, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 170.94499267578124, "cut_end_time": 172.15005517578123, "narration": {"text": " Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel.", "cut_start_time": 162.47499572753907, "cut_end_time": 166.86005822753907, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Ned, don't most ships just paint the name on the side?\"\n\n\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. <|quote_start|>\"What's in your mind?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\" Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.\n\nNed's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered:", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,", "start_byte": 208140, "end_byte": 208234, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 173.385, "cut_end_time": 178.42, "narration": {"text": " Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel.", "cut_start_time": 162.47499572753907, "cut_end_time": 166.86005822753907, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"Aye lad, that they do,\" Ned replied in a puzzled tone, looking up through the leaves at the two boys.\n\n\"Then isn't it unusual to have letters carved of wood and gilded, on the side of a ship?\" Chris persisted.\n\n\"Aye, that it be.\" Ned's puzzled tone was sharper now and he looked up at Chris and then out to the pirate vessel. \"What're ye aimin' at now, me lad, eh?\" Ned asked. \"What's in your mind?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\"<|quote_end|> Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.\n\nNed's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered: \"Let me see, now. There's the Southerner -- no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew -- no; that's painted too", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Let me see, now. There's the Southerner -- no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew -- no; that's painted too.", "start_byte": 208647, "end_byte": 208762, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 200.67499938964843, "cut_end_time": 210.25012438964842, "narration": {"text": "Ned's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered:", "cut_start_time": 196.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 200.35000732421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Just tell me what ships you know whose name is not painted on but set in carved letters, Ned,\" Chris said, and he lowered his glass and looked down.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTheir conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.\n\nNed's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered: <|quote_start|>\"Let me see, now. There's the Southerner -- no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew -- no; that's painted too.\"<|quote_end|> He turned, searching the faces of his friends. \"Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?\"\n\nThe Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.\n\n\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"muttered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?\"", "start_byte": 208811, "end_byte": 208919, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 213.38500061035157, "cut_end_time": 220.04006311035155, "narration": {"text": "Ned's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered:", "cut_start_time": 196.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 200.35000732421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Their conversation, in the silence, had had some quality of excitement in it that had been caught by the others, for when Chris glanced down he saw half the ship's company knotted around the base of the tree, and a half-circle of faces turned up to his, along with Ned's.\n\nNed's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered: \"Let me see, now. There's the Southerner -- no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew -- no; that's painted too.\" He turned, searching the faces of his friends. <|quote_start|>\"Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.\n\n\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"\n\nHe was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides. \"Aye aye!\" \"That be so!\" \"'Tis so!\" Chris from his higher perch, pointed an accusing finger out to sea.", "narrative_information_pred": {"searching": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"", "start_byte": 209118, "end_byte": 209233, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 231.59500061035155, "cut_end_time": 238.58000061035156, "narration": {"text": "Ned's face puckered with effort for a few moments, as he muttered:", "cut_start_time": 196.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 200.35000732421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Let me see, now. There's the Southerner -- no, that's painted on, or the Priscilla Drew -- no; that's painted too.\" He turned, searching the faces of his friends. \"Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?\"\n\nThe Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides. \"Aye aye!\" \"That be so!\" \"'Tis so!\" Chris from his higher perch, pointed an accusing finger out to sea.\n\n\"Look then, for there's your same ship! The Venture and the Vulture are one and the same! Here -- take my glass,\" he cried handing it down. \"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Aye aye!", "start_byte": 209303, "end_byte": 209312, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.1849951171875, "cut_end_time": 244.7400576171875, "narration": {"text": "He was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides.", "cut_start_time": 239.345, "cut_end_time": 243.07999999999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"Come, boys, what ship has carved letters for her name, not painted ones? Where's a better memory nor mine?\"\n\nThe Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.\n\n\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"\n\nHe was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides. <|quote_start|>\"Aye aye!\"<|quote_end|> \"That be so!\" \"'Tis so!\" Chris from his higher perch, pointed an accusing finger out to sea.\n\n\"Look then, for there's your same ship! The Venture and the Vulture are one and the same! Here -- take my glass,\" he cried handing it down. \"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Look then, for there's your same ship! The Venture and the Vulture are one and the same! Here -- take my glass,", "start_byte": 209408, "end_byte": 209520, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 251.11499999999998, "cut_end_time": 258.4700625, "narration": {"text": "A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "cut_start_time": 325.82500732421875, "cut_end_time": 329.7300698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "The Captain and Mr. Finney came to join the crowd, standing back in the shadow of the palm grove. Both men were listening attentively. It was Bowie who finally spoke up slowly, as if unwillingly.\n\n\"There's only one ship that ever I did see with carven letters on her side, and that was Chew's ship, the Venture.\"\n\nHe was surrounded at once by a low murmur of assent from all sides. \"Aye aye!\" \"That be so!\" \"'Tis so!\" Chris from his higher perch, pointed an accusing finger out to sea.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Look then, for there's your same ship! The Venture and the Vulture are one and the same! Here -- take my glass,\"<|quote_end|> he cried handing it down. \"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"\n\nThe men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"And his friend with the airs!\"", "start_byte": 210125, "end_byte": 210156, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 299.5200502929688, "narration": {"text": "A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "cut_start_time": 325.82500732421875, "cut_end_time": 329.7300698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"\n\nThe men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.\n\n\"Ah -- the dirty dog -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And his friend with the airs!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?\"\n\n\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"\n\nThe Captain came forward, his hands upraised. \"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?\"", "start_byte": 210158, "end_byte": 210212, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 299.7349890136719, "cut_end_time": 302.8201140136719, "narration": {"text": "A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "cut_start_time": 325.82500732421875, "cut_end_time": 329.7300698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"\n\nThe men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.\n\n\"Ah -- the dirty dog -- \"\n\n\"And his friend with the airs!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"\n\nThe Captain came forward, his hands upraised. \"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"\n\nA low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"", "start_byte": 210214, "end_byte": 210328, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 302.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 309.47006372070314, "narration": {"text": "A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "cut_start_time": 325.82500732421875, "cut_end_time": 329.7300698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"See the two second letters -- they are just a bit aslant. Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the E and the N looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're changed -- bolted in, maybe, I don't know how -- and there's your merchant ship at home and pirate ship at sea!\"\n\nThe men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.\n\n\"Ah -- the dirty dog -- \"\n\n\"And his friend with the airs!\"\n\n\"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe Captain came forward, his hands upraised. \"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"\n\nA low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.\n\n\"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship -- looks like that was what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"", "start_byte": 210376, "end_byte": 210574, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 312.9550134277344, "cut_end_time": 324.1600759277344, "narration": {"text": "A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.", "cut_start_time": 325.82500732421875, "cut_end_time": 329.7300698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "The men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in, rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.\n\n\"Ah -- the dirty dog -- \"\n\n\"And his friend with the airs!\"\n\n\"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?\"\n\n\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"\n\nThe Captain came forward, his hands upraised. <|quote_start|>\"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.\n\n\"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship -- looks like that was what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!\"\n\nSure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the Vulture. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship -- looks like that was what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!\"", "start_byte": 210644, "end_byte": 210758, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 330.42500732421877, "cut_end_time": 337.39006982421876, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"Aye -- to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!\"\n\nThe Captain came forward, his hands upraised. \"How-now, men, be still! We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance of it. Do you be still and watchful.\"\n\nA low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship -- looks like that was what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the Vulture. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Bless my cap and buttons!", "start_byte": 212291, "end_byte": 212317, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 428.5450073242188, "cut_end_time": 430.05000732421877, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Sure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the Vulture. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Bless my cap and buttons!\"<|quote_end|> Ned Cilley cried, \"there's to be a fight for sartin. I can see the flash of light on the swords and axes!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nQuicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.\n\nThe pirate ship sailed down the coast, turned, and forced the oncoming vessel to stop. Then, as well as the watchers could guess, a parley ensued, but if the pirates thought the prey would be an easy one they were mistaken, for the merchantman came forward suddenly, all sails set, in an effort to ram the Vulture. But the rich cargo vessel was hopelessly at a disadvantage. The pirate guns opened fire, ropes were thrown over to the peaceful ship, and with yells of triumph that carried even above the tumult of the fighting, the pirate crew leapt on board. Tiny figures could be seen falling into the water from the merchantman, and in a bitter hour or so the sound of fighting died out altogether.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"there's to be a fight for sartin. I can see the flash of light on the swords and axes!\"", "start_byte": 212337, "end_byte": 212425, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 431.9050012207031, "cut_end_time": 435.82006372070316, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Sure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the Vulture. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again.\n\n\"Bless my cap and buttons!\" Ned Cilley cried, <|quote_start|>\"there's to be a fight for sartin. I can see the flash of light on the swords and axes!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\nQuicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.\n\nThe pirate ship sailed down the coast, turned, and forced the oncoming vessel to stop. Then, as well as the watchers could guess, a parley ensued, but if the pirates thought the prey would be an easy one they were mistaken, for the merchantman came forward suddenly, all sails set, in an effort to ram the Vulture. But the rich cargo vessel was hopelessly at a disadvantage. The pirate guns opened fire, ropes were thrown over to the peaceful ship, and with yells of triumph that carried even above the tumult of the fighting, the pirate crew leapt on board. Tiny figures could be seen falling into the water from the merchantman, and in a bitter hour or so the sound of fighting died out altogether.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Come, lads,", "start_byte": 213699, "end_byte": 213711, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 508.44500732421875, "cut_end_time": 509.4800073242188, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "The pirate ship sailed down the coast, turned, and forced the oncoming vessel to stop. Then, as well as the watchers could guess, a parley ensued, but if the pirates thought the prey would be an easy one they were mistaken, for the merchantman came forward suddenly, all sails set, in an effort to ram the Vulture. But the rich cargo vessel was hopelessly at a disadvantage. The pirate guns opened fire, ropes were thrown over to the peaceful ship, and with yells of triumph that carried even above the tumult of the fighting, the pirate crew leapt on board. Tiny figures could be seen falling into the water from the merchantman, and in a bitter hour or so the sound of fighting died out altogether.\n\nThe men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Come, lads,\"<|quote_end|> Captain Blizzard said to them at last. \"We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!\"\n\n\"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy -- they should all hang for it!\" the voices cried.\n\n\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!\"", "start_byte": 213752, "end_byte": 213857, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 511.87500122070315, "cut_end_time": 516.8800637207031, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "The men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Come, lads,\" Captain Blizzard said to them at last. <|quote_start|>\"We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy -- they should all hang for it!\" the voices cried.\n\n\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"\n\nThe men turned about and trouped back to the dinghies, while Captain Blizzard stayed behind a moment to speak to Chris.\n\n\"My boy,\" he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy -- they should all hang for it!", "start_byte": 213859, "end_byte": 213950, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 517.6350244140625, "cut_end_time": 522.3800244140625, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "The men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Come, lads,\" Captain Blizzard said to them at last. \"We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy -- they should all hang for it!\"<|quote_end|> the voices cried.\n\n\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"\n\nThe men turned about and trouped back to the dinghies, while Captain Blizzard stayed behind a moment to speak to Chris.\n\n\"My boy,\" he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship,", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"", "start_byte": 213971, "end_byte": 214133, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 524.5750244140626, "cut_end_time": 531.9500244140626, "narration": {"text": "Quicker than it would take to tell, the Vulture, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China.", "cut_start_time": 436.5950073242188, "cut_end_time": 445.75000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "The men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Come, lads,\" Captain Blizzard said to them at last. \"We have seen what we had to see, and many is the witness now against Claggett Chew and all his company!\"\n\n\"Aye! Aye! That we are! We'll bear witness to such villainy -- they should all hang for it!\" the voices cried.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe men turned about and trouped back to the dinghies, while Captain Blizzard stayed behind a moment to speak to Chris.\n\n\"My boy,\" he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship, \"'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do -- we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do -- we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits.\"", "start_byte": 214411, "end_byte": 214661, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 548.0150268554688, "cut_end_time": 561.0400268554688, "narration": {"text": " he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship,", "cut_start_time": 540.69498046875, "cut_end_time": 547.87010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"Then let us go back to our own ship, for the dreaded Vulture is not yet gone, and unarmed as we too are, what chance have we against cannon balls and armed men?\"\n\nThe men turned about and trouped back to the dinghies, while Captain Blizzard stayed behind a moment to speak to Chris.\n\n\"My boy,\" he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship, <|quote_start|>\"'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do -- we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned. \"It will not be a moment too soon for me until I see you safe and sound on board again, my lad,\" he said, \"for I like you well and would have no smallest harm come to you.\"\n\nTogether they went down to the beach and the waiting dinghy. Chris dared not look at the sky above them for he knew night was darkening it, and with the night he must leave.\n\nCHAPTER 25", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"It will not be a moment too soon for me until I see you safe and sound on board again, my lad,", "start_byte": 214726, "end_byte": 214821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 565.495029296875, "cut_end_time": 570.670029296875, "narration": {"text": "He looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned.", "cut_start_time": 561.6849853515625, "cut_end_time": 565.0901103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"My boy,\" he said, his hand on Chris's shoulder, as in front of them in the late afternoon light the men of the Mirabelle made their way back to the ship, \"'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do -- we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits.\"\n\nHe looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned. <|quote_start|>\"It will not be a moment too soon for me until I see you safe and sound on board again, my lad,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"for I like you well and would have no smallest harm come to you.\"\n\nTogether they went down to the beach and the waiting dinghy. Chris dared not look at the sky above them for he knew night was darkening it, and with the night he must leave.\n\nCHAPTER 25\n\nAs soon as the night was dark enough, Chris loudly complained of not feeling well -- of being hot and dizzy, and in no time Captain Blizzard had, as loudly, told him he was to go to bed on a cot in the Captain's cabin. Captain Blizzard closed the door behind him, and in Amos's and Ned Cilley's hearing, told Mr. Finney that he was much afraid that Chris had a touch of the sun and was coming down with a tropical fever.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"for I like you well and would have no smallest harm come to you.\"", "start_byte": 214832, "end_byte": 214898, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 572.3250073242187, "cut_end_time": 576.4000698242188, "narration": {"text": "He looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned.", "cut_start_time": 561.6849853515625, "cut_end_time": 565.0901103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"'tis my advice you had best return with us now, or you might be missed by one or another of the men, and they have much time to think. You shall do what has been set for you to do -- we shall stay here another day to take on water and fresh fruits.\"\n\nHe looked smilingly down at Chris but his eyes were concerned. \"It will not be a moment too soon for me until I see you safe and sound on board again, my lad,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"for I like you well and would have no smallest harm come to you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTogether they went down to the beach and the waiting dinghy. Chris dared not look at the sky above them for he knew night was darkening it, and with the night he must leave.\n\nCHAPTER 25\n\nAs soon as the night was dark enough, Chris loudly complained of not feeling well -- of being hot and dizzy, and in no time Captain Blizzard had, as loudly, told him he was to go to bed on a cot in the Captain's cabin. Captain Blizzard closed the door behind him, and in Amos's and Ned Cilley's hearing, told Mr. Finney that he was much afraid that Chris had a touch of the sun and was coming down with a tropical fever.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_24_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 33}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6283d394aefe9924107a59c629bca8b1951affea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"What-all comes next, and have we some more of those dates?\"", "start_byte": 255043, "end_byte": 255103, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 35.92500015258789, "cut_end_time": 38.97000015258789, "narration": {"text": "Listening and watching, the boys gathered by the silver trumpet notes that the Princess and her retinue had re-entered the palace walls by another gate.", "cut_start_time": 72.94500213623046, "cut_end_time": 82.30000213623046, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Remembering in time, for he had been so much absorbed he had momentarily forgotten it, Chris whipped out his spyglass and looked at the curtains of the palanquin. The thin silk was transparent enough under the strong focus of the glass, and behind it Chris could perceive, leaning delicately against silk cushions, a Chinese girl as beautiful as a dream. Her slightly uptilted eyes were large and dark, her skin put a magnolia flower to shame, her mouth was lifted in a charming smile, and her long exquisite fingers held a spray of jeweled flowers. All about the palanquin rained a shower of jeweled buds and petals, for no doubt a real flower was thought too inferior for the only child of the Descendant of the Sun and the Moon, Prince of all the Isles, and Lord of the Seven Seas, the Princess of China.\n\nCHAPTER 29\n\nChris put down his spyglass and the two boys, hidden on the piny knoll, watched the procession out of sight.\n\n\"I'm supposed to take something from her,\" Chris said with his eyes sparkling, \"but I know now what I'm going to give her back in return. I feel sort of sorry for that girl,\" he added thoughtfully.\n\n\"What're we going to do, Chris?\" Amos wanted to know. <|quote_start|>\"What-all comes next, and have we some more of those dates?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris passed him some. \"We have to wait until dusk anyway,\" he said, his voice abstracted, \"and by the look of the light that won't be long.\"\n\nThe piny knoll was steep and rocky and only two adventurous boys would ever have reached the top. Too precipitous on which to build houses, it rose far above the surrounding roofs of Peking. The green and scarlet of curved tiles spread under the boys' sight like a curling sea. Before them, stretched out in long angular wings to right and left, swept the palace walls.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wanted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"We have to wait until dusk anyway,", "start_byte": 255128, "end_byte": 255163, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 41.185001068115234, "cut_end_time": 43.080063568115236, "narration": {"text": "Listening and watching, the boys gathered by the silver trumpet notes that the Princess and her retinue had re-entered the palace walls by another gate.", "cut_start_time": 72.94500213623046, "cut_end_time": 82.30000213623046, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Chris put down his spyglass and the two boys, hidden on the piny knoll, watched the procession out of sight.\n\n\"I'm supposed to take something from her,\" Chris said with his eyes sparkling, \"but I know now what I'm going to give her back in return. I feel sort of sorry for that girl,\" he added thoughtfully.\n\n\"What're we going to do, Chris?\" Amos wanted to know. \"What-all comes next, and have we some more of those dates?\"\n\nChris passed him some. <|quote_start|>\"We have to wait until dusk anyway,\"<|quote_end|> he said, his voice abstracted, \"and by the look of the light that won't be long.\"\n\nThe piny knoll was steep and rocky and only two adventurous boys would ever have reached the top. Too precipitous on which to build houses, it rose far above the surrounding roofs of Peking. The green and scarlet of curved tiles spread under the boys' sight like a curling sea. Before them, stretched out in long angular wings to right and left, swept the palace walls.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "abstracted": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"and by the look of the light that won't be long.\"", "start_byte": 255196, "end_byte": 255246, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 45.25499908447266, "cut_end_time": 47.420061584472656, "narration": {"text": "Listening and watching, the boys gathered by the silver trumpet notes that the Princess and her retinue had re-entered the palace walls by another gate.", "cut_start_time": 72.94500213623046, "cut_end_time": 82.30000213623046, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Chris put down his spyglass and the two boys, hidden on the piny knoll, watched the procession out of sight.\n\n\"I'm supposed to take something from her,\" Chris said with his eyes sparkling, \"but I know now what I'm going to give her back in return. I feel sort of sorry for that girl,\" he added thoughtfully.\n\n\"What're we going to do, Chris?\" Amos wanted to know. \"What-all comes next, and have we some more of those dates?\"\n\nChris passed him some. \"We have to wait until dusk anyway,\" he said, his voice abstracted, <|quote_start|>\"and by the look of the light that won't be long.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe piny knoll was steep and rocky and only two adventurous boys would ever have reached the top. Too precipitous on which to build houses, it rose far above the surrounding roofs of Peking. The green and scarlet of curved tiles spread under the boys' sight like a curling sea. Before them, stretched out in long angular wings to right and left, swept the palace walls.\n\nListening and watching, the boys gathered by the silver trumpet notes that the Princess and her retinue had re-entered the palace walls by another gate.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "abstracted": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Strike 3.\"", "start_byte": 256805, "end_byte": 256816, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 145.59500610351563, "cut_end_time": 147.06006860351562, "narration": {"text": "Nothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.", "cut_start_time": 164.57500732421875, "cut_end_time": 172.12006982421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "The evening was not long in coming, and Chris, who had been sitting cross-legged under the little crooked pines, looked across with great concern to where Amos lay on his back, dozing.\n\nI can't take him along, Chris thought, and I can't leave him alone, if I should get caught. What in the world do I do?\n\nThen, remembering the bag of magic \"odds and ends,\" Chris put his hand inside it and drew out a small folded piece of silk and netting. On it a piece of paper, like a label, showed Mr. Wicker's fine script. Chris looked closer and read: <|quote_start|>\"Strike 3.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Strike 3.\"\n\nChris held the folded object in his hand, and then glanced at Amos. Amos slept. Going softly out of the pine grove to a narrow ledge of rock where he was out of sight, Chris put the object down and said: \"Strike three.\"\n\nNothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.\n\nAt once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.", "narrative_information_pred": {"read": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Strike 3.\"", "start_byte": 256818, "end_byte": 256829, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 147.7050012207031, "cut_end_time": 149.8600012207031, "narration": {"text": "Nothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.", "cut_start_time": 164.57500732421875, "cut_end_time": 172.12006982421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "The evening was not long in coming, and Chris, who had been sitting cross-legged under the little crooked pines, looked across with great concern to where Amos lay on his back, dozing.\n\nI can't take him along, Chris thought, and I can't leave him alone, if I should get caught. What in the world do I do?\n\nThen, remembering the bag of magic \"odds and ends,\" Chris put his hand inside it and drew out a small folded piece of silk and netting. On it a piece of paper, like a label, showed Mr. Wicker's fine script. Chris looked closer and read: \"Strike 3.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Strike 3.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris held the folded object in his hand, and then glanced at Amos. Amos slept. Going softly out of the pine grove to a narrow ledge of rock where he was out of sight, Chris put the object down and said: \"Strike three.\"\n\nNothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.\n\nAt once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Strike three.\"", "start_byte": 257035, "end_byte": 257050, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 162.58500427246094, "cut_end_time": 164.23006677246093, "narration": {"text": "Nothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.", "cut_start_time": 164.57500732421875, "cut_end_time": 172.12006982421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Then, remembering the bag of magic \"odds and ends,\" Chris put his hand inside it and drew out a small folded piece of silk and netting. On it a piece of paper, like a label, showed Mr. Wicker's fine script. Chris looked closer and read: \"Strike 3.\"\n\n\"Strike 3.\"\n\nChris held the folded object in his hand, and then glanced at Amos. Amos slept. Going softly out of the pine grove to a narrow ledge of rock where he was out of sight, Chris put the object down and said: <|quote_start|>\"Strike three.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nNothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.\n\nAt once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Now, if that isn't handy!", "start_byte": 257655, "end_byte": 257681, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 202.89499755859376, "cut_end_time": 204.47006005859373, "narration": {"text": "Nothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.", "cut_start_time": 164.57500732421875, "cut_end_time": 172.12006982421875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "At once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now, if that isn't handy!\"<|quote_end|> Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.\n\n\"Amos!\" he said, shaking his friend's shoulder, \"it's time for me to go. Are you awake?\"\n\nAmos blinked a few times and said he thought so.\n\n\"Then listen to me,\" Chris told him earnestly, \"and listen hard!\" Amos sat up more alertly.\n\n\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"it's time for me to go. Are you awake?\"", "start_byte": 257853, "end_byte": 257893, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 213.90499267578124, "cut_end_time": 216.19011767578124, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "At once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Now, if that isn't handy!\" Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.\n\n\"Amos!\" he said, shaking his friend's shoulder, <|quote_start|>\"it's time for me to go. Are you awake?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos blinked a few times and said he thought so.\n\n\"Then listen to me,\" Chris told him earnestly, \"and listen hard!\" Amos sat up more alertly.\n\n\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"\n\nAmos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.\n\n\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shaking": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"", "start_byte": 258038, "end_byte": 258137, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 225.49499877929688, "cut_end_time": 231.05012377929688, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "[Illustration]\n\n\"Now, if that isn't handy!\" Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.\n\n\"Amos!\" he said, shaking his friend's shoulder, \"it's time for me to go. Are you awake?\"\n\nAmos blinked a few times and said he thought so.\n\n\"Then listen to me,\" Chris told him earnestly, \"and listen hard!\" Amos sat up more alertly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.\n\n\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!\" he cried. \"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. \"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!", "start_byte": 258192, "end_byte": 258303, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 234.38500549316404, "cut_end_time": 240.48000549316404, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"Amos!\" he said, shaking his friend's shoulder, \"it's time for me to go. Are you awake?\"\n\nAmos blinked a few times and said he thought so.\n\n\"Then listen to me,\" Chris told him earnestly, \"and listen hard!\" Amos sat up more alertly.\n\n\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"\n\nAmos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!\"<|quote_end|> he cried. \"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. \"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"", "start_byte": 258315, "end_byte": 258440, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 241.81499267578124, "cut_end_time": 248.78011767578124, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Amos blinked a few times and said he thought so.\n\n\"Then listen to me,\" Chris told him earnestly, \"and listen hard!\" Amos sat up more alertly.\n\n\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"\n\nAmos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.\n\n\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!\" he cried. <|quote_start|>\"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. \"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.", "start_byte": 258474, "end_byte": 258578, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 251.60500244140624, "cut_end_time": 257.31000244140625, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only -- do you hear? only if I don't come back.\"\n\nAmos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.\n\n\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!\" he cried. \"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. <|quote_start|>\"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\"<|quote_end|> He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"", "start_byte": 258612, "end_byte": 258817, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 259.38499511718754, "cut_end_time": 271.41005761718753, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Don't come back? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen country where nobody understands good English!\" he cried. \"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. \"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. <|quote_start|>\"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,", "start_byte": 258819, "end_byte": 258873, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 272.10499267578126, "cut_end_time": 274.38011767578126, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"Why, unless I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me never to do that -- but unless I did, how could I eat in these foreign parts?\"\n\nChris sat back on his haunches. \"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\"<|quote_end|> Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.\n\n\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough", "narrative_information_pred": {"gave": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"No, Amos!", "start_byte": 258903, "end_byte": 258913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 277.0049877929688, "cut_end_time": 278.2700502929688, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No, Amos!\"<|quote_end|> Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.\n\n\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,\" Chris reminded him.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" Amos said, looking wise.", "narrative_information_pred": {"gave": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"I mean, do you understand that much?\"", "start_byte": 258953, "end_byte": 258991, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 281.9449987792969, "cut_end_time": 283.6901237792969, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Well, I don't know how you could, myself. But don't you cross any bridges until you come to them. Look.\" He held out the folded balloon. \"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. <|quote_start|>\"I mean, do you understand that much?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.\n\n\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,\" Chris reminded him.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" Amos said, looking wise.\n\n\"Well,\" Chris took up again, \"you put the package on the ledge and strike the ground three times -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"gave": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "rousing": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?", "start_byte": 259047, "end_byte": 259195, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 286.5150073242188, "cut_end_time": 295.3400073242188, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"If I'm not back by two sunups from now -- I may have to hide all during tomorrow -- if I'm not back by then, put this package out beyond the trees in the clearing. That's very important. You've got that?\"\n\n\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\"<|quote_end|> Amos asked, looking about.\n\n\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,\" Chris reminded him.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" Amos said, looking wise.\n\n\"Well,\" Chris took up again, \"you put the package on the ledge and strike the ground three times -- \"\n\n\"Like this?\" And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.\n\n\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,", "start_byte": 259225, "end_byte": 259280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.63498535156253, "cut_end_time": 300.1701103515625, "narration": {"text": " Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to waken Amos.", "cut_start_time": 204.68499572753905, "cut_end_time": 210.55012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"I haven't got anything but a few old dried-up fruits,\" Amos pouted. \"That's all.\"\n\n\"No, Amos!\" Chris gave him another rousing shake. \"I mean, do you understand that much?\"\n\nAmos brightened at once and broke into a broad grin.\n\n\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,\"<|quote_end|> Chris reminded him.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" Amos said, looking wise.\n\n\"Well,\" Chris took up again, \"you put the package on the ledge and strike the ground three times -- \"\n\n\"Like this?\" And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.\n\n\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"reminded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"", "start_byte": 259573, "end_byte": 259757, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 318.5749975585938, "cut_end_time": 329.33006005859374, "narration": {"text": " And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.", "cut_start_time": 312.86499267578125, "cut_end_time": 318.5400551757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"Oh yes, of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place? You said, put the package out in the clear. Where's that, on this tippy-top of a hill?\" Amos asked, looking about.\n\n\"The ledge near where we climbed up. That's big enough,\" Chris reminded him.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" Amos said, looking wise.\n\n\"Well,\" Chris took up again, \"you put the package on the ledge and strike the ground three times -- \"\n\n\"Like this?\" And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos raised his right hand looking very solemn. \"I promise,\" he said. \"Only,\" he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn, \"what happens when I do hit three times?\"\n\n\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\" Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"what happens when I do hit three times?\"", "start_byte": 259896, "end_byte": 259937, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 339.45499511718754, "cut_end_time": 341.5500576171875, "narration": {"text": " he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn,", "cut_start_time": 335.8850024414063, "cut_end_time": 339.06000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"Like this?\" And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.\n\n\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"\n\nAmos raised his right hand looking very solemn. \"I promise,\" he said. \"Only,\" he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn, <|quote_start|>\"what happens when I do hit three times?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\" Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n\"No sir!\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bewildered": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "forlorn": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,", "start_byte": 259939, "end_byte": 259990, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 342.08499633789063, "cut_end_time": 344.95012133789066, "narration": {"text": " he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn,", "cut_start_time": 335.8850024414063, "cut_end_time": 339.06000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Like this?\" And before Chris could stop him, Amos had struck the earth beside him twice before Chris seized his hand in mid-air.\n\n\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"\n\nAmos raised his right hand looking very solemn. \"I promise,\" he said. \"Only,\" he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn, \"what happens when I do hit three times?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\"<|quote_end|> Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n\"No sir!\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. \"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"A balloon. Oh.\"", "start_byte": 260123, "end_byte": 260139, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 352.865009765625, "cut_end_time": 355.140009765625, "narration": {"text": "Chris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!", "cut_start_time": 355.9249938964844, "cut_end_time": 361.7001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"Amos! Not now! I said only if you have to get away. If someone comes after you, or if I don't come back. Promise me not to strike three at all except for either of those two reasons.\"\n\nAmos raised his right hand looking very solemn. \"I promise,\" he said. \"Only,\" he added, looking bewildered and already somewhat forlorn, \"what happens when I do hit three times?\"\n\n\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\" Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"A balloon. Oh.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n\"No sir!\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. \"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"\n\nChris was becoming exasperated. He had important things to do.\n\n\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"No sir!", "start_byte": 260331, "end_byte": 260339, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 367.57499511718754, "cut_end_time": 368.7001201171875, "narration": {"text": "\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"", "cut_start_time": 362.5050036621094, "cut_end_time": 366.1900036621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"what happens when I do hit three times?\"\n\n\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\" Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No sir!\"<|quote_end|> Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. \"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"\n\nChris was becoming exasperated. He had important things to do.\n\n\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"\n\nHe turned away toward the ledge and clearing.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"", "start_byte": 260400, "end_byte": 260470, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 373.1350085449219, "cut_end_time": 377.2300710449219, "narration": {"text": " Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side.", "cut_start_time": 369.3050048828125, "cut_end_time": 372.84006738281255, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"Why, it's a mag -- it's a special kind of balloon,\" Chris began, after correcting what had almost been a bad slip.\n\n\"A what?\" Amos stuck his head forward, trying hard to understand.\n\n\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n\"No sir!\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. <|quote_start|>\"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris was becoming exasperated. He had important things to do.\n\n\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"\n\nHe turned away toward the ledge and clearing.\n\n\"And now, wish me luck, and stay here and wait for me. Don't follow me now, or watch, or I might fail.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"", "start_byte": 260536, "end_byte": 260717, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 381.5850024414063, "cut_end_time": 391.8500024414063, "narration": {"text": "Chris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.", "cut_start_time": 414.9049890136719, "cut_end_time": 424.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"A balloon. Oh.\"\n\nChris stopped and stared at Amos. Perhaps balloons had not yet been invented. How very confusing!\n\n\"It's something that will hold you up in the air. There's a basket for you to sit in -- \"\n\n\"No sir!\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. \"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"\n\nChris was becoming exasperated. He had important things to do.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned away toward the ledge and clearing.\n\n\"And now, wish me luck, and stay here and wait for me. Don't follow me now, or watch, or I might fail.\"\n\nAmos jumped up from the pine-covered ground. \"Oh, Chris!\" he cried, his voice sharp with distress, \"can't I go? You might get hurt. There's no telling what could happen if you're all alone!\"\n\nChris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"And now, wish me luck, and stay here and wait for me. Don't follow me now, or watch, or I might fail.\"", "start_byte": 260766, "end_byte": 260869, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 395.2249951171875, "cut_end_time": 401.54005761718753, "narration": {"text": "Chris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.", "cut_start_time": 414.9049890136719, "cut_end_time": 424.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\" Amos cried, wagging his head decisively from side to side. \"Me in the air over the roofs and high up? No indeedy, Chris! Not me.\"\n\nChris was becoming exasperated. He had important things to do.\n\n\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"\n\nHe turned away toward the ledge and clearing.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And now, wish me luck, and stay here and wait for me. Don't follow me now, or watch, or I might fail.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos jumped up from the pine-covered ground. \"Oh, Chris!\" he cried, his voice sharp with distress, \"can't I go? You might get hurt. There's no telling what could happen if you're all alone!\"\n\nChris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.\n\n\"No,\" he said after a long moment.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"can't I go? You might get hurt. There's no telling what could happen if you're all alone!\"", "start_byte": 260970, "end_byte": 261061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 409.5150024414063, "cut_end_time": 414.19006494140626, "narration": {"text": "Chris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.", "cut_start_time": 414.9049890136719, "cut_end_time": 424.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"Look, Amos. If you have to use it, you'll be in such a bad fix that being up in the air will seem like the very best thing that could happen. Stop running. I'll be back -- I hope.\"\n\nHe turned away toward the ledge and clearing.\n\n\"And now, wish me luck, and stay here and wait for me. Don't follow me now, or watch, or I might fail.\"\n\nAmos jumped up from the pine-covered ground. \"Oh, Chris!\" he cried, his voice sharp with distress, <|quote_start|>\"can't I go? You might get hurt. There's no telling what could happen if you're all alone!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.\n\n\"No,\" he said after a long moment. \"Better not. But I'd sure like to, Amos. Now don't lose that package. It's your escape. Wish me luck.\"\n\nAmos clasped his hand, and then, rushing off, dashed back again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharp": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "distress": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"Better not. But I'd sure like to, Amos. Now don't lose that package. It's your escape. Wish me luck.\"", "start_byte": 261315, "end_byte": 261417, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 427.68500610351566, "cut_end_time": 434.3500061035156, "narration": {"text": "Chris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.", "cut_start_time": 414.9049890136719, "cut_end_time": 424.8400515136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Amos jumped up from the pine-covered ground. \"Oh, Chris!\" he cried, his voice sharp with distress, \"can't I go? You might get hurt. There's no telling what could happen if you're all alone!\"\n\nChris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.\n\n\"No,\" he said after a long moment. <|quote_start|>\"Better not. But I'd sure like to, Amos. Now don't lose that package. It's your escape. Wish me luck.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAmos clasped his hand, and then, rushing off, dashed back again.\n\n\"Here, Chris. Our fruits. Better not to eat strange food in this foreigny place. Good luck,\" he added.\n\nChris stuffed the dried fruit in his pocket. Amos turned back into the darkening pine knoll, and Chris pushed his way out to the narrow steep ledge, hanging high above the roofs of Peking.\n\nChris uncoiled the magic rope from around his waist, and standing as far out on the rock ledge as he dared, in order to have the greatest possible freedom of movement, he attempted for the first time to draw an eagle in the air with the rope. It was a complicated, fast maneuver. The rope twisted and whipped in the air, and the result was a molted-looking, droop-tailed buzzard. Its wings were not wide enough, its back very insecure to look at. In short, Chris knew, it was a total failure.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Here, Chris. Our fruits. Better not to eat strange food in this foreigny place. Good luck,", "start_byte": 261485, "end_byte": 261576, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.935009765625, "cut_end_time": 444.15000976562504, "narration": {"text": "Amos clasped his hand, and then, rushing off, dashed back again.", "cut_start_time": 435.36499145507815, "cut_end_time": 438.67011645507813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Chris was tempted to take his friend with him but someone must get the news back to the Mirabelle if he should fail. If this happened, he did not doubt but that the magic balloon would carry Amos safely to the ship.\n\n\"No,\" he said after a long moment. \"Better not. But I'd sure like to, Amos. Now don't lose that package. It's your escape. Wish me luck.\"\n\nAmos clasped his hand, and then, rushing off, dashed back again.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Here, Chris. Our fruits. Better not to eat strange food in this foreigny place. Good luck,\"<|quote_end|> he added.\n\nChris stuffed the dried fruit in his pocket. Amos turned back into the darkening pine knoll, and Chris pushed his way out to the narrow steep ledge, hanging high above the roofs of Peking.\n\nChris uncoiled the magic rope from around his waist, and standing as far out on the rock ledge as he dared, in order to have the greatest possible freedom of movement, he attempted for the first time to draw an eagle in the air with the rope. It was a complicated, fast maneuver. The rope twisted and whipped in the air, and the result was a molted-looking, droop-tailed buzzard. Its wings were not wide enough, its back very insecure to look at. In short, Chris knew, it was a total failure.", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_29_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 41}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..e3b98d00553fc42e5e36e09876933544f1f168ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"fleck!", "start_byte": 287108, "end_byte": 287115, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 51.45499954223633, "cut_end_time": 52.66012454223633, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful.", "cut_start_time": 366.0450048828125, "cut_end_time": 371.2500673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The smoke of the guns of both ships so hung upon the air that Chris counted on its heavy curtain to screen him from his enemies. He swam to the far side of the attacking vessel and there forced his magic knife for the second time against the side of the Vulture.\n\nHe was treading water, holding to a rope that dangled over the side of the ship when, with no interior tremor of warning, a cut that he almost thought had penetrated to the bone lashed across his shoulders narrowly missing his left ear. Without stopping to think Chris took half a breath and submerged as deeply as he could go, hearing above him, even through the sounds of the battle and the wavering water, the <|quote_start|>\"fleck!\"<|quote_end|> of Claggett Chew's metal-tipped whip as it hit the water where he had been only a second before. Chris would have dived under the great barnacled hull of the Vulture then and there, to come up on the other side, but good swimmer though he was, he was unsure that he could hold even a full breath for so long a dive. Added to this, he had had no time to do more than gasp a momentary breath of air, and even as he rose to the surface with bursting lungs, he saw the figure of a man leap into the water from the side of the Vulture.", "narrative_information_pred": {"of": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Ah, now!", "start_byte": 291953, "end_byte": 291962, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 342.8949877929688, "cut_end_time": 344.2000502929688, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful.", "cut_start_time": 366.0450048828125, "cut_end_time": 371.2500673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "The yellow-eyed cat made a dash with both clawing paws outstretched to fall upon the bird, but the parakeet fluttered into the air out of reach and came down higher up on Osterbridge Hawsey's knee. Osterbridge, startled from his daydream, shooed away the cat and got up precipitously enough to give it a kick which sent it miaowling from the cabin. Osterbridge, vastly pleased to see his green parakeet again, was wreathed in smiles.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah, now!\"<|quote_end|> he exclaimed, holding out a condescending finger, \"Petit Monsieur back again! How too simply enchanting! Just when poor Osterbridge was so bored and had no one to talk to! Well, my pretty -- \" and both Osterbridge and the parakeet cocked their heads at one another -- \"and where have you been, I wonder?\"\n\nOsterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful. \"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"and where have you been, I wonder?\"", "start_byte": 292232, "end_byte": 292268, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 363.26500000000004, "cut_end_time": 365.1900625, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful.", "cut_start_time": 366.0450048828125, "cut_end_time": 371.2500673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "The yellow-eyed cat made a dash with both clawing paws outstretched to fall upon the bird, but the parakeet fluttered into the air out of reach and came down higher up on Osterbridge Hawsey's knee. Osterbridge, startled from his daydream, shooed away the cat and got up precipitously enough to give it a kick which sent it miaowling from the cabin. Osterbridge, vastly pleased to see his green parakeet again, was wreathed in smiles.\n\n\"Ah, now!\" he exclaimed, holding out a condescending finger, \"Petit Monsieur back again! How too simply enchanting! Just when poor Osterbridge was so bored and had no one to talk to! Well, my pretty -- \" and both Osterbridge and the parakeet cocked their heads at one another -- <|quote_start|>\"and where have you been, I wonder?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nOsterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful. \"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. \"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "condescending": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"", "start_byte": 292359, "end_byte": 292553, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 371.3350122070313, "cut_end_time": 383.31001220703126, "narration": {"text": "He looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear", "cut_start_time": 392.05500610351567, "cut_end_time": 398.1000061035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "The yellow-eyed cat made a dash with both clawing paws outstretched to fall upon the bird, but the parakeet fluttered into the air out of reach and came down higher up on Osterbridge Hawsey's knee. Osterbridge, startled from his daydream, shooed away the cat and got up precipitously enough to give it a kick which sent it miaowling from the cabin. Osterbridge, vastly pleased to see his green parakeet again, was wreathed in smiles.\n\n\"Ah, now!\" he exclaimed, holding out a condescending finger, \"Petit Monsieur back again! How too simply enchanting! Just when poor Osterbridge was so bored and had no one to talk to! Well, my pretty -- \" and both Osterbridge and the parakeet cocked their heads at one another -- \"and where have you been, I wonder?\"\n\nOsterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful. <|quote_start|>\"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. \"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"\n\n\"Haw yourself!\" returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"", "start_byte": 292593, "end_byte": 292652, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 385.95500488281255, "cut_end_time": 391.4400673828125, "narration": {"text": "He looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear", "cut_start_time": 392.05500610351567, "cut_end_time": 398.1000061035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\" he exclaimed, holding out a condescending finger, \"Petit Monsieur back again! How too simply enchanting! Just when poor Osterbridge was so bored and had no one to talk to! Well, my pretty -- \" and both Osterbridge and the parakeet cocked their heads at one another -- \"and where have you been, I wonder?\"\n\nOsterbridge examined the little bird perched on his finger and his eyes were thoughtful. \"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. <|quote_start|>\"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"\n\n\"Haw yourself!\" returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.", "narrative_information_pred": {"broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "peals": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}, "high": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Haw yourself!", "start_byte": 292775, "end_byte": 292789, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 399.3049951171875, "cut_end_time": 400.3701201171875, "narration": {"text": "He looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear", "cut_start_time": 392.05500610351567, "cut_end_time": 398.1000061035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. \"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Haw yourself!\"<|quote_end|> returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey yawned.", "narrative_information_pred": {"returned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,", "start_byte": 292862, "end_byte": 292913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 404.7650146484375, "cut_end_time": 407.91001464843754, "narration": {"text": " Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.", "cut_start_time": 440.9449926757813, "cut_end_time": 444.86005517578127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. \"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"\n\n\"Haw yourself!\" returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\"<|quote_end|> he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey yawned. \"Ah -- there you are at last, Claggett,\" he said, \"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid", "narrative_information_pred": {"pursued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"", "start_byte": 292927, "end_byte": 292972, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 409.3350036621094, "cut_end_time": 412.2500661621094, "narration": {"text": " Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.", "cut_start_time": 440.9449926757813, "cut_end_time": 444.86005517578127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"It is true, you have a tiny mark at the side of your jaw -- if parakeets have jaws, my friend. But there is no such thing as magic. Not the kind of magic whereby a human can be something else!\"\n\nHe broke into peals of high laughter. \"What a joke if it were possible! Now what could I be, eh?\"\n\nHe looked fondly at the bird and the bird looked back at him, daring to open its beak and emit a small but clear \"Haw!\"\n\n\"Haw yourself!\" returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. <|quote_start|>\"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey yawned. \"Ah -- there you are at last, Claggett,\" he said, \"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid!\" Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pursued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Ah -- there you are at last, Claggett,", "start_byte": 293212, "end_byte": 293251, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 426.8950134277344, "cut_end_time": 431.5400134277344, "narration": {"text": " Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.", "cut_start_time": 440.9449926757813, "cut_end_time": 444.86005517578127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\" returned Osterbridge in high good humor. He leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey yawned. <|quote_start|>\"Ah -- there you are at last, Claggett,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid!\" Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.\n\nAs Claggett Chew did not reply, Osterbridge looked back at him. The pirate's eyes were fixed on the parakeet, and his twitching fingers played with the steel-tipped whip. Claggett Chew's voice when it came was as sharp and as cold as a dagger in a dead man.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid!", "start_byte": 293262, "end_byte": 293365, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 432.6549975585938, "cut_end_time": 440.2100600585938, "narration": {"text": " Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.", "cut_start_time": 440.9449926757813, "cut_end_time": 444.86005517578127, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, all this is a most engaging train of thought,\" he pursued. \"If I could change myself, what should I be?\"\n\nHe fell to musing, and as he did so the dreaded shadow Chris had anticipated fell across the doorway. A moment later Claggett Chew, limping from an old wound and a newly received bruise, stood in the entrance.\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey yawned. \"Ah -- there you are at last, Claggett,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid!\"<|quote_end|> Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.\n\nAs Claggett Chew did not reply, Osterbridge looked back at him. The pirate's eyes were fixed on the parakeet, and his twitching fingers played with the steel-tipped whip. Claggett Chew's voice when it came was as sharp and as cold as a dagger in a dead man.\n\n\"I will have that bird, Osterbridge,\" he said.\n\nOsterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "ended": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"I will have that bird, Osterbridge,", "start_byte": 293704, "end_byte": 293740, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 461.8849926757813, "cut_end_time": 464.71011767578125, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.", "cut_start_time": 465.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 471.44012255859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Battle all over? It still sounds rather ferocious, to me. But of course I am no expert. Heaven forbid!\" Osterbridge ended, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling with his vague smile.\n\nAs Claggett Chew did not reply, Osterbridge looked back at him. The pirate's eyes were fixed on the parakeet, and his twitching fingers played with the steel-tipped whip. Claggett Chew's voice when it came was as sharp and as cold as a dagger in a dead man.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I will have that bird, Osterbridge,\"<|quote_end|> he said.\n\nOsterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.\n\n\"Oh no, you will not, Claggett,\" he said, and his high-pitched voice managed to be saturated with sarcasm. \"This is the one thing that is keeping me from unutterable boredom, while you go into your interminable fight.\" He paused to give Claggett Chew a cutting look. \"You know how I feel about piracy -- too terribly degrading, though I can see it has its excitement and rewards. But it is unnecessary -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Oh no, you will not, Claggett,", "start_byte": 293861, "end_byte": 293892, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 472.135009765625, "cut_end_time": 474.800009765625, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.", "cut_start_time": 465.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 471.44012255859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "As Claggett Chew did not reply, Osterbridge looked back at him. The pirate's eyes were fixed on the parakeet, and his twitching fingers played with the steel-tipped whip. Claggett Chew's voice when it came was as sharp and as cold as a dagger in a dead man.\n\n\"I will have that bird, Osterbridge,\" he said.\n\nOsterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Oh no, you will not, Claggett,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and his high-pitched voice managed to be saturated with sarcasm. \"This is the one thing that is keeping me from unutterable boredom, while you go into your interminable fight.\" He paused to give Claggett Chew a cutting look. \"You know how I feel about piracy -- too terribly degrading, though I can see it has its excitement and rewards. But it is unnecessary -- \"\n\nClaggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"This is the one thing that is keeping me from unutterable boredom, while you go into your interminable fight.", "start_byte": 293968, "end_byte": 294078, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 479.6849890136719, "cut_end_time": 486.7300515136719, "narration": {"text": "Claggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary.", "cut_start_time": 500.92500122070317, "cut_end_time": 508.31006372070317, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "As Claggett Chew did not reply, Osterbridge looked back at him. The pirate's eyes were fixed on the parakeet, and his twitching fingers played with the steel-tipped whip. Claggett Chew's voice when it came was as sharp and as cold as a dagger in a dead man.\n\n\"I will have that bird, Osterbridge,\" he said.\n\nOsterbridge's expression did not change but his eyes did, and they became almost as icy as Claggett Chew's.\n\n\"Oh no, you will not, Claggett,\" he said, and his high-pitched voice managed to be saturated with sarcasm. <|quote_start|>\"This is the one thing that is keeping me from unutterable boredom, while you go into your interminable fight.\"<|quote_end|> He paused to give Claggett Chew a cutting look. \"You know how I feel about piracy -- too terribly degrading, though I can see it has its excitement and rewards. But it is unnecessary -- \"\n\nClaggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary. \"I am not a trader, Osterbridge. Nor shall I bandy words with you on this subject. Give me that bird, or I shall take it from you!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"I am not a trader, Osterbridge. Nor shall I bandy words with you on this subject. Give me that bird, or I shall take it from you!\"", "start_byte": 294392, "end_byte": 294523, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 508.7550146484375, "cut_end_time": 519.4200771484375, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge Hawsey rose with a slow grace from his chair, his hand curled gently but protectingly around his parakeet.", "cut_start_time": 520.2849902343751, "cut_end_time": 527.730115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"This is the one thing that is keeping me from unutterable boredom, while you go into your interminable fight.\" He paused to give Claggett Chew a cutting look. \"You know how I feel about piracy -- too terribly degrading, though I can see it has its excitement and rewards. But it is unnecessary -- \"\n\nClaggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary. <|quote_start|>\"I am not a trader, Osterbridge. Nor shall I bandy words with you on this subject. Give me that bird, or I shall take it from you!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey rose with a slow grace from his chair, his hand curled gently but protectingly around his parakeet.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper, \"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.\" Osterbridge Hawsey removed himself with deliberation from the proximity of the doorway, placing himself on the other side of the cabin table over which hung the swinging lamp. He did not turn his back to Claggett Chew nor take his eyes from him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Claggett,", "start_byte": 294661, "end_byte": 294671, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 528.4250244140625, "cut_end_time": 529.5900244140626, "narration": {"text": "Osterbridge Hawsey rose with a slow grace from his chair, his hand curled gently but protectingly around his parakeet.", "cut_start_time": 520.2849902343751, "cut_end_time": 527.730115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "Claggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary. \"I am not a trader, Osterbridge. Nor shall I bandy words with you on this subject. Give me that bird, or I shall take it from you!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey rose with a slow grace from his chair, his hand curled gently but protectingly around his parakeet.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Claggett,\"<|quote_end|> he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper, \"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.\" Osterbridge Hawsey removed himself with deliberation from the proximity of the doorway, placing himself on the other side of the cabin table over which hung the swinging lamp. He did not turn his back to Claggett Chew nor take his eyes from him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.", "start_byte": 294751, "end_byte": 294896, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 534.8349926757812, "cut_end_time": 544.5601176757813, "narration": {"text": " he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper,", "cut_start_time": 530.0149975585938, "cut_end_time": 534.4900600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "Claggett Chew's eyes had a way of not blinking. They held a crocodile fixity. His tone, when he spoke again, did not vary. \"I am not a trader, Osterbridge. Nor shall I bandy words with you on this subject. Give me that bird, or I shall take it from you!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nOsterbridge Hawsey rose with a slow grace from his chair, his hand curled gently but protectingly around his parakeet.\n\n\"Claggett,\" he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper, <|quote_start|>\"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.\"<|quote_end|> Osterbridge Hawsey removed himself with deliberation from the proximity of the doorway, placing himself on the other side of the cabin table over which hung the swinging lamp. He did not turn his back to Claggett Chew nor take his eyes from him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Kindly leave the room, Claggett,\" he went on, in too quiet a voice to be otherwise than poisonous, \"until you are more yourself. Your conduct and tone are unbecoming to a gentleman", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Kindly leave the room, Claggett,", "start_byte": 295161, "end_byte": 295194, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 559.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 561.720095703125, "narration": {"text": " he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper,", "cut_start_time": 530.0149975585938, "cut_end_time": 534.4900600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\" he said in his thin voice that cut now with the unexpected thinness of paper, \"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.\" Osterbridge Hawsey removed himself with deliberation from the proximity of the doorway, placing himself on the other side of the cabin table over which hung the swinging lamp. He did not turn his back to Claggett Chew nor take his eyes from him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Kindly leave the room, Claggett,\"<|quote_end|> he went on, in too quiet a voice to be otherwise than poisonous, \"until you are more yourself. Your conduct and tone are unbecoming to a gentleman,\" Osterbridge said, with his head held high in disdainful dignity.\n\nThey were an extraordinary sight. The shaven-headed, clay-faced pirate looming so high and so huge in the doorway that he filled it altogether, his clothes torn, filthy and stained from the battle and from careless weeks at sea. His companion was a travesty of his onetime elegance, dirty lace ruffles spotted by forgotten meals, his velvet coat marked by chairbacks and soiled from months of constant wear, his hair unwashed and sleazily caught back, no longer curled with a fine exactitude. Both men had been housed together for too long. Long ago they had exhausted all topics of conversation, their two difficult personalities had for months been festering, each at the sight of the other.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "quiet": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "poisonous": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"until you are more yourself. Your conduct and tone are unbecoming to a gentleman,", "start_byte": 295261, "end_byte": 295343, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 565.6349975585938, "cut_end_time": 571.3500600585937, "narration": {"text": " Osterbridge said, with his head held high in disdainful dignity.", "cut_start_time": 572.235, "cut_end_time": 576.0000625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"I am sorry to say such a thing to you, but your fever during the weeks just past has undoubtedly altered your brain. You are a madman, Claggett.\" Osterbridge Hawsey removed himself with deliberation from the proximity of the doorway, placing himself on the other side of the cabin table over which hung the swinging lamp. He did not turn his back to Claggett Chew nor take his eyes from him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Kindly leave the room, Claggett,\" he went on, in too quiet a voice to be otherwise than poisonous, <|quote_start|>\"until you are more yourself. Your conduct and tone are unbecoming to a gentleman,\"<|quote_end|> Osterbridge said, with his head held high in disdainful dignity.\n\nThey were an extraordinary sight. The shaven-headed, clay-faced pirate looming so high and so huge in the doorway that he filled it altogether, his clothes torn, filthy and stained from the battle and from careless weeks at sea. His companion was a travesty of his onetime elegance, dirty lace ruffles spotted by forgotten meals, his velvet coat marked by chairbacks and soiled from months of constant wear, his hair unwashed and sleazily caught back, no longer curled with a fine exactitude. Both men had been housed together for too long. Long ago they had exhausted all topics of conversation, their two difficult personalities had for months been festering, each at the sight of the other.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_33_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 18}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb.json b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..bc8e1ba3616c4a25b6935676a9b2ff0ca2e36e35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/4062/4852/mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "4062/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4852/mrwickerswindow2_1003_librivox_64kb_mp3/mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4852", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Mistress Boozer,", "start_byte": 305627, "end_byte": 305644, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 121.17499908447265, "cut_end_time": 122.24012408447265, "narration": {"text": " At last all was told; every tale unfolded.", "cut_start_time": 187.67499389648438, "cut_end_time": 190.82005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "An excited happiness shook him as the Mirabelle was eased to the wharfside, and at last, after dangers and adventures beyond his imagining, Chris not only knew that he was home again, but saw a familiar black-dressed figure and a plump woman in a monstrous hat, waiting for him to disembark.\n\nWhat a day that was! The greetings and handshakings; the enveloping hug for Chris and Amos from Becky Boozer, her eyes filled with happy tears and her bonnet trembling with agitation. Her roguish glances and coy giggles flew out like a flock of doves at the sight of swaggering Ned Cilley, who came down the gangplank carrying a macaw in a cage for <|quote_start|>\"Mistress Boozer,\"<|quote_end|> and hustled her behind some bales to kiss her warmly. But most of all and best of the day, that first look from Mr. Wicker that spoke more than any gesture or carefully chosen words could have done. He had no need to speak. Chris could see the pride and pleasure shining in his face, and Mr. Wicker, so solitary all his life, could see in the boy's eyes an affection his own son might have shown him.\n\nIn due time a well-crated object was carefully hauled by cart to Mr. Wicker's back door and taken inside. The ship's carpenter had made a case to measurements given him without knowing what it was to hold, and when Chris saw it at last set in a corner of Mr. Wicker's well-remembered study, he knew a lightness of mind he had not had since first he had been told of the Jewel Tree and his long journey.", "narrative_information_pred": {"carrying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Quite so -- you did perfectly right,", "start_byte": 306647, "end_byte": 306684, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 180.39500549316406, "cut_end_time": 182.38000549316405, "narration": {"text": " At last all was told; every tale unfolded.", "cut_start_time": 187.67499389648438, "cut_end_time": 190.82005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "In due time a well-crated object was carefully hauled by cart to Mr. Wicker's back door and taken inside. The ship's carpenter had made a case to measurements given him without knowing what it was to hold, and when Chris saw it at last set in a corner of Mr. Wicker's well-remembered study, he knew a lightness of mind he had not had since first he had been told of the Jewel Tree and his long journey.\n\nThere were long hours of talk with Mr. Wicker before the fire, telling him of every detail. Mr. Wicker's fine dark head nodded from time to time, interspersing Chris's account with an occasional <|quote_start|>\"Quite so -- you did perfectly right,\"<|quote_end|> or, \"Indeed? I did not see that too clearly, and so I was not sure.\" At last all was told; every tale unfolded.\n\nThen Mr. Wicker rose, smiling at Chris. \"Go have your supper lad, and come back. I have some other things to say.\"\n\nThe candlelit kitchen, the blazing hearth, the hissing spit on which wood pigeons roasted; the steaming pots where savory things were cooking; Amos laughing and chattering and swinging his legs from the cane-bottomed chair; Becky Boozer alternating between bursts of happy song and jokes directed at Amos or Ned Cilley, everything seemed beautiful to Chris and the room the gayest he had ever known. Yet he was conscious of a heavy feeling inside himself in spite of the laughter and the talk, and sat quietly staring at the rosy firelight that flowed up Becky's white apron and starched fichu to her hot, flushed face and kind blue eyes. The reflection of the sparks went even higher to gild the twenty-four roses and twelve waving black plumes, and when they passed on, found a kindred spark in the large contented eyes of his friend Amos. Ned Cilley was going through the usual formula of pretending that he should not stay to supper, and that even if he did, he had no appetite at all.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Indeed? I did not see that too clearly, and so I was not sure.", "start_byte": 306690, "end_byte": 306753, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 182.85500122070312, "cut_end_time": 187.06000122070313, "narration": {"text": " At last all was told; every tale unfolded.", "cut_start_time": 187.67499389648438, "cut_end_time": 190.82005639648438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "In due time a well-crated object was carefully hauled by cart to Mr. Wicker's back door and taken inside. The ship's carpenter had made a case to measurements given him without knowing what it was to hold, and when Chris saw it at last set in a corner of Mr. Wicker's well-remembered study, he knew a lightness of mind he had not had since first he had been told of the Jewel Tree and his long journey.\n\nThere were long hours of talk with Mr. Wicker before the fire, telling him of every detail. Mr. Wicker's fine dark head nodded from time to time, interspersing Chris's account with an occasional \"Quite so -- you did perfectly right,\" or, <|quote_start|>\"Indeed? I did not see that too clearly, and so I was not sure.\"<|quote_end|> At last all was told; every tale unfolded.\n\nThen Mr. Wicker rose, smiling at Chris. \"Go have your supper lad, and come back. I have some other things to say.\"\n\nThe candlelit kitchen, the blazing hearth, the hissing spit on which wood pigeons roasted; the steaming pots where savory things were cooking; Amos laughing and chattering and swinging his legs from the cane-bottomed chair; Becky Boozer alternating between bursts of happy song and jokes directed at Amos or Ned Cilley, everything seemed beautiful to Chris and the room the gayest he had ever known. Yet he was conscious of a heavy feeling inside himself in spite of the laughter and the talk, and sat quietly staring at the rosy firelight that flowed up Becky's white apron and starched fichu to her hot, flushed face and kind blue eyes. The reflection of the sparks went even higher to gild the twenty-four roses and twelve waving black plumes, and when they passed on, found a kindred spark in the large contented eyes of his friend Amos. Ned Cilley was going through the usual formula of pretending that he should not stay to supper, and that even if he did, he had no appetite at all.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Go have your supper lad, and come back. I have some other things to say.\"", "start_byte": 306839, "end_byte": 306913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 194.72499572753907, "cut_end_time": 198.39005822753904, "narration": {"text": " coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles,", "cut_start_time": 259.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 265.45000610351565, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "In due time a well-crated object was carefully hauled by cart to Mr. Wicker's back door and taken inside. The ship's carpenter had made a case to measurements given him without knowing what it was to hold, and when Chris saw it at last set in a corner of Mr. Wicker's well-remembered study, he knew a lightness of mind he had not had since first he had been told of the Jewel Tree and his long journey.\n\nThere were long hours of talk with Mr. Wicker before the fire, telling him of every detail. Mr. Wicker's fine dark head nodded from time to time, interspersing Chris's account with an occasional \"Quite so -- you did perfectly right,\" or, \"Indeed? I did not see that too clearly, and so I was not sure.\" At last all was told; every tale unfolded.\n\nThen Mr. Wicker rose, smiling at Chris. <|quote_start|>\"Go have your supper lad, and come back. I have some other things to say.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe candlelit kitchen, the blazing hearth, the hissing spit on which wood pigeons roasted; the steaming pots where savory things were cooking; Amos laughing and chattering and swinging his legs from the cane-bottomed chair; Becky Boozer alternating between bursts of happy song and jokes directed at Amos or Ned Cilley, everything seemed beautiful to Chris and the room the gayest he had ever known. Yet he was conscious of a heavy feeling inside himself in spite of the laughter and the talk, and sat quietly staring at the rosy firelight that flowed up Becky's white apron and starched fichu to her hot, flushed face and kind blue eyes. The reflection of the sparks went even higher to gild the twenty-four roses and twelve waving black plumes, and when they passed on, found a kindred spark in the large contented eyes of his friend Amos. Ned Cilley was going through the usual formula of pretending that he should not stay to supper, and that even if he did, he had no appetite at all.", "narrative_information_pred": {"rose": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "smiling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Ah now, Master Cilley,", "start_byte": 307906, "end_byte": 307929, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 257.0550134277344, "cut_end_time": 259.4100759277344, "narration": {"text": " coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles,", "cut_start_time": 259.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 265.45000610351565, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "The candlelit kitchen, the blazing hearth, the hissing spit on which wood pigeons roasted; the steaming pots where savory things were cooking; Amos laughing and chattering and swinging his legs from the cane-bottomed chair; Becky Boozer alternating between bursts of happy song and jokes directed at Amos or Ned Cilley, everything seemed beautiful to Chris and the room the gayest he had ever known. Yet he was conscious of a heavy feeling inside himself in spite of the laughter and the talk, and sat quietly staring at the rosy firelight that flowed up Becky's white apron and starched fichu to her hot, flushed face and kind blue eyes. The reflection of the sparks went even higher to gild the twenty-four roses and twelve waving black plumes, and when they passed on, found a kindred spark in the large contented eyes of his friend Amos. Ned Cilley was going through the usual formula of pretending that he should not stay to supper, and that even if he did, he had no appetite at all.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ah now, Master Cilley,\"<|quote_end|> coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles, \"you will fade away into a wraith, my good man, so you will! Do you not eat a morsel nor a mouthful, and die in the night, how shall I bear to live with my conscience thereafter, tell me that?\"\n\nNed Cilley, seated at the table near the Water Street windows, his legs sprawled out and his rough hands folded over his round little paunch, twiddled his thumbs and wagged his head in a doleful manner, drawing the corners of his mouth down, though it was plain that this was an effort.", "narrative_information_pred": {"coaxed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"you will fade away into a wraith, my good man, so you will! Do you not eat a morsel nor a mouthful, and die in the night, how shall I bear to live with my conscience thereafter, tell me that?\"", "start_byte": 308031, "end_byte": 308224, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 265.91499267578126, "cut_end_time": 276.8900551757813, "narration": {"text": " coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles,", "cut_start_time": 259.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 265.45000610351565, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "The candlelit kitchen, the blazing hearth, the hissing spit on which wood pigeons roasted; the steaming pots where savory things were cooking; Amos laughing and chattering and swinging his legs from the cane-bottomed chair; Becky Boozer alternating between bursts of happy song and jokes directed at Amos or Ned Cilley, everything seemed beautiful to Chris and the room the gayest he had ever known. Yet he was conscious of a heavy feeling inside himself in spite of the laughter and the talk, and sat quietly staring at the rosy firelight that flowed up Becky's white apron and starched fichu to her hot, flushed face and kind blue eyes. The reflection of the sparks went even higher to gild the twenty-four roses and twelve waving black plumes, and when they passed on, found a kindred spark in the large contented eyes of his friend Amos. Ned Cilley was going through the usual formula of pretending that he should not stay to supper, and that even if he did, he had no appetite at all.\n\n\"Ah now, Master Cilley,\" coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles, <|quote_start|>\"you will fade away into a wraith, my good man, so you will! Do you not eat a morsel nor a mouthful, and die in the night, how shall I bear to live with my conscience thereafter, tell me that?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nNed Cilley, seated at the table near the Water Street windows, his legs sprawled out and his rough hands folded over his round little paunch, twiddled his thumbs and wagged his head in a doleful manner, drawing the corners of his mouth down, though it was plain that this was an effort.\n\n\"Eh, lack-a-day!\" he sighed. \"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?\" He wagged his head again. \"The vittles is hard on a stummick as delikit nor what mine be -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"coaxed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Eh, lack-a-day!", "start_byte": 308514, "end_byte": 308530, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 294.3749938964844, "cut_end_time": 295.7001188964844, "narration": {"text": " coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles,", "cut_start_time": 259.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 265.45000610351565, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"you will fade away into a wraith, my good man, so you will! Do you not eat a morsel nor a mouthful, and die in the night, how shall I bear to live with my conscience thereafter, tell me that?\"\n\nNed Cilley, seated at the table near the Water Street windows, his legs sprawled out and his rough hands folded over his round little paunch, twiddled his thumbs and wagged his head in a doleful manner, drawing the corners of his mouth down, though it was plain that this was an effort.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Eh, lack-a-day!\"<|quote_end|> he sighed. \"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?\" He wagged his head again. \"The vittles is hard on a stummick as delikit nor what mine be -- \"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAmos put his hand over his mouth to stifle some sound that broke through in spite of him. Ned gave him a reproving glance. \"Or else, me innards is ruint by that galley cook of ours", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?", "start_byte": 308543, "end_byte": 308602, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.8250146484375, "cut_end_time": 301.4900146484375, "narration": {"text": " coaxed Becky, her hands on her hips and the soup ladle she still held standing out at right angles,", "cut_start_time": 259.8550061035156, "cut_end_time": 265.45000610351565, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"you will fade away into a wraith, my good man, so you will! Do you not eat a morsel nor a mouthful, and die in the night, how shall I bear to live with my conscience thereafter, tell me that?\"\n\nNed Cilley, seated at the table near the Water Street windows, his legs sprawled out and his rough hands folded over his round little paunch, twiddled his thumbs and wagged his head in a doleful manner, drawing the corners of his mouth down, though it was plain that this was an effort.\n\n\"Eh, lack-a-day!\" he sighed. <|quote_start|>\"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?\"<|quote_end|> He wagged his head again. \"The vittles is hard on a stummick as delikit nor what mine be -- \"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAmos put his hand over his mouth to stifle some sound that broke through in spite of him. Ned gave him a reproving glance. \"Or else, me innards is ruint by that galley cook of ours.\" He sighed and nodded in reminiscent sorrow. \"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Or else, me innards is ruint by that galley cook of ours.", "start_byte": 308838, "end_byte": 308896, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.2650085449219, "cut_end_time": 319.0000710449219, "narration": {"text": "Amos put his hand over his mouth to stifle some sound that broke through in spite of him. Ned gave him a reproving glance.", "cut_start_time": 307.8649890136719, "cut_end_time": 315.0601140136719, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "Ned Cilley, seated at the table near the Water Street windows, his legs sprawled out and his rough hands folded over his round little paunch, twiddled his thumbs and wagged his head in a doleful manner, drawing the corners of his mouth down, though it was plain that this was an effort.\n\n\"Eh, lack-a-day!\" he sighed. \"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?\" He wagged his head again. \"The vittles is hard on a stummick as delikit nor what mine be -- \"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAmos put his hand over his mouth to stifle some sound that broke through in spite of him. Ned gave him a reproving glance. <|quote_start|>\"Or else, me innards is ruint by that galley cook of ours.\"<|quote_end|> He sighed and nodded in reminiscent sorrow. \"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"\n\nTears of pity streamed down Becky Boozer's face, and pulling out a bandanna handkerchief from her apron pocket she blew her nose with a honk that would have blown a less sturdy man than Ned Cilley off his chair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "reminiscent": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}, "sorrow": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"", "start_byte": 308942, "end_byte": 309228, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 325.6350036621094, "cut_end_time": 343.6200036621094, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"The life of a sailor, 'tis that hard -- is't not, me boys?\" He wagged his head again. \"The vittles is hard on a stummick as delikit nor what mine be -- \"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAmos put his hand over his mouth to stifle some sound that broke through in spite of him. Ned gave him a reproving glance. \"Or else, me innards is ruint by that galley cook of ours.\" He sighed and nodded in reminiscent sorrow. <|quote_start|>\"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTears of pity streamed down Becky Boozer's face, and pulling out a bandanna handkerchief from her apron pocket she blew her nose with a honk that would have blown a less sturdy man than Ned Cilley off his chair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Deary me, the saints preserve and defend us!\" she cried. \"I must do all in my poor weak woman's power to tempt you as best I may. Draw up, lads, for here it comes", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "sorrow": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Deary me, the saints preserve and defend us!", "start_byte": 309459, "end_byte": 309504, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 358.7549975585938, "cut_end_time": 361.6801225585938, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"\n\nTears of pity streamed down Becky Boozer's face, and pulling out a bandanna handkerchief from her apron pocket she blew her nose with a honk that would have blown a less sturdy man than Ned Cilley off his chair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Deary me, the saints preserve and defend us!\"<|quote_end|> she cried. \"I must do all in my poor weak woman's power to tempt you as best I may. Draw up, lads, for here it comes!\" she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.\n\nThen such a feast as was heaped upon their plates and crowded on the table. Steaming vegetable soup, roast pigeons, roasted ducks, several boiled fowl with wild rice, a cold beef pie, several kinds of cheese, tarts and pies, jams and preserves. A blissful silence fell over the cheerful room and Becky Boozer stood back to survey the two busy boys and engrossed silent man. Silent if one can call Ned Cilley's champing jaws, smacking lips, great sighs after a draught of ale, or loud appreciative belches a silent meal.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"I must do all in my poor weak woman's power to tempt you as best I may. Draw up, lads, for here it comes!", "start_byte": 309517, "end_byte": 309623, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 362.65499389648437, "cut_end_time": 369.0100563964844, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Ah, sweet Boozer, were you to sample but a spoonful of what us pore sailors must face week after week, and month after month, and us on the high seas -- you bein' such a delikit cook, so to speak -- your heart's blood would curdle on the instant, that it would, by my cap and buttons!\"\n\nTears of pity streamed down Becky Boozer's face, and pulling out a bandanna handkerchief from her apron pocket she blew her nose with a honk that would have blown a less sturdy man than Ned Cilley off his chair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Deary me, the saints preserve and defend us!\" she cried. <|quote_start|>\"I must do all in my poor weak woman's power to tempt you as best I may. Draw up, lads, for here it comes!\"<|quote_end|> she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.\n\nThen such a feast as was heaped upon their plates and crowded on the table. Steaming vegetable soup, roast pigeons, roasted ducks, several boiled fowl with wild rice, a cold beef pie, several kinds of cheese, tarts and pies, jams and preserves. A blissful silence fell over the cheerful room and Becky Boozer stood back to survey the two busy boys and engrossed silent man. Silent if one can call Ned Cilley's champing jaws, smacking lips, great sighs after a draught of ale, or loud appreciative belches a silent meal.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Mr. Wicker asked me to see him for a moment.", "start_byte": 310427, "end_byte": 310472, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 427.25499633789065, "cut_end_time": 429.41012133789064, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Then such a feast as was heaped upon their plates and crowded on the table. Steaming vegetable soup, roast pigeons, roasted ducks, several boiled fowl with wild rice, a cold beef pie, several kinds of cheese, tarts and pies, jams and preserves. A blissful silence fell over the cheerful room and Becky Boozer stood back to survey the two busy boys and engrossed silent man. Silent if one can call Ned Cilley's champing jaws, smacking lips, great sighs after a draught of ale, or loud appreciative belches a silent meal.\n\nWhen everyone had finished at last and they had pushed back their chairs and looked about them again with dozy smiles, Chris remembered Mr. Wicker's request. He rose, not without difficulty.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Mr. Wicker asked me to see him for a moment.\"<|quote_end|> He moved to the passageway. \"That was a superb supper, Becky. I'm stuffed.\"\n\nBecky looked around genuinely surprised. \"Why -- a mere mouthful, a taste, a tidbit, was all any of you had. See -- there's a pigeon or two left, and half a duck, and part of the beef pie -- why, you do but peck at your food, all of you, like poor birds!\" she insisted.\n\nChris laughed. Ned Cilley, picking his teeth with his habitual ship's nail, was already falling asleep, and Amos, his head on one hand, propped himself up amid a jumble of empty plates. Peacefulness and content lay everywhere in the room, warm as the firelight and as pervasive.", "narrative_information_pred": {"rose": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"That was a superb supper, Becky. I'm stuffed.\"", "start_byte": 310502, "end_byte": 310549, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 432.2350085449219, "cut_end_time": 435.5900710449219, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Then such a feast as was heaped upon their plates and crowded on the table. Steaming vegetable soup, roast pigeons, roasted ducks, several boiled fowl with wild rice, a cold beef pie, several kinds of cheese, tarts and pies, jams and preserves. A blissful silence fell over the cheerful room and Becky Boozer stood back to survey the two busy boys and engrossed silent man. Silent if one can call Ned Cilley's champing jaws, smacking lips, great sighs after a draught of ale, or loud appreciative belches a silent meal.\n\nWhen everyone had finished at last and they had pushed back their chairs and looked about them again with dozy smiles, Chris remembered Mr. Wicker's request. He rose, not without difficulty.\n\n\"Mr. Wicker asked me to see him for a moment.\" He moved to the passageway. <|quote_start|>\"That was a superb supper, Becky. I'm stuffed.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBecky looked around genuinely surprised. \"Why -- a mere mouthful, a taste, a tidbit, was all any of you had. See -- there's a pigeon or two left, and half a duck, and part of the beef pie -- why, you do but peck at your food, all of you, like poor birds!\" she insisted.\n\nChris laughed. Ned Cilley, picking his teeth with his habitual ship's nail, was already falling asleep, and Amos, his head on one hand, propped himself up amid a jumble of empty plates. Peacefulness and content lay everywhere in the room, warm as the firelight and as pervasive.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Why -- a mere mouthful, a taste, a tidbit, was all any of you had. See -- there's a pigeon or two left, and half a duck, and part of the beef pie -- why, you do but peck at your food, all of you, like poor birds!", "start_byte": 310592, "end_byte": 310805, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.72501098632813, "cut_end_time": 453.78007348632815, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "Then such a feast as was heaped upon their plates and crowded on the table. Steaming vegetable soup, roast pigeons, roasted ducks, several boiled fowl with wild rice, a cold beef pie, several kinds of cheese, tarts and pies, jams and preserves. A blissful silence fell over the cheerful room and Becky Boozer stood back to survey the two busy boys and engrossed silent man. Silent if one can call Ned Cilley's champing jaws, smacking lips, great sighs after a draught of ale, or loud appreciative belches a silent meal.\n\nWhen everyone had finished at last and they had pushed back their chairs and looked about them again with dozy smiles, Chris remembered Mr. Wicker's request. He rose, not without difficulty.\n\n\"Mr. Wicker asked me to see him for a moment.\" He moved to the passageway. \"That was a superb supper, Becky. I'm stuffed.\"\n\nBecky looked around genuinely surprised. <|quote_start|>\"Why -- a mere mouthful, a taste, a tidbit, was all any of you had. See -- there's a pigeon or two left, and half a duck, and part of the beef pie -- why, you do but peck at your food, all of you, like poor birds!\"<|quote_end|> she insisted.\n\nChris laughed. Ned Cilley, picking his teeth with his habitual ship's nail, was already falling asleep, and Amos, his head on one hand, propped himself up amid a jumble of empty plates. Peacefulness and content lay everywhere in the room, warm as the firelight and as pervasive.\n\nChris turned. \"Anyhow, thanks again. I'll be back,\" and he went along to knock at Mr. Wicker's door.\n\nInside, the ruby damask curtains were drawn close across the windows, for it was nearly dark, and the fire here too was as red as the rose that was the joy of a princess of China. Chris closed the door behind him, looking around with a smile at the familiar walls and objects he had missed and dreamed of, many a time, the table with its flowers in a fine China bowl, the desk between the windows with the long-feathered quill pens and the papers marked by Mr. Wicker's meticulous hand, the carved cupboard at the end of the room, and the Indian rug of many colors under his feet. Last of all he brought his look back to Mr. Wicker, sitting in the winged leather chair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"insisted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Anyhow, thanks again. I'll be back,", "start_byte": 311116, "end_byte": 311152, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 477.9649926757813, "cut_end_time": 480.70011767578126, "narration": {"text": " she announced without ceremony, and the three watching her needed no second invitation.", "cut_start_time": 368.975, "cut_end_time": 374.7400625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Why -- a mere mouthful, a taste, a tidbit, was all any of you had. See -- there's a pigeon or two left, and half a duck, and part of the beef pie -- why, you do but peck at your food, all of you, like poor birds!\" she insisted.\n\nChris laughed. Ned Cilley, picking his teeth with his habitual ship's nail, was already falling asleep, and Amos, his head on one hand, propped himself up amid a jumble of empty plates. Peacefulness and content lay everywhere in the room, warm as the firelight and as pervasive.\n\nChris turned. <|quote_start|>\"Anyhow, thanks again. I'll be back,\"<|quote_end|> and he went along to knock at Mr. Wicker's door.\n\nInside, the ruby damask curtains were drawn close across the windows, for it was nearly dark, and the fire here too was as red as the rose that was the joy of a princess of China. Chris closed the door behind him, looking around with a smile at the familiar walls and objects he had missed and dreamed of, many a time, the table with its flowers in a fine China bowl, the desk between the windows with the long-feathered quill pens and the papers marked by Mr. Wicker's meticulous hand, the carved cupboard at the end of the room, and the Indian rug of many colors under his feet. Last of all he brought his look back to Mr. Wicker, sitting in the winged leather chair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"turned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Do you not recognise these things, Christopher?", "start_byte": 312154, "end_byte": 312202, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 543.0349755859376, "cut_end_time": 545.3400380859375, "narration": {"text": "Chris looked more closely, touching nothing. His voice was bewildered.", "cut_start_time": 546.1850219726563, "cut_end_time": 549.9100844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Inside, the ruby damask curtains were drawn close across the windows, for it was nearly dark, and the fire here too was as red as the rose that was the joy of a princess of China. Chris closed the door behind him, looking around with a smile at the familiar walls and objects he had missed and dreamed of, many a time, the table with its flowers in a fine China bowl, the desk between the windows with the long-feathered quill pens and the papers marked by Mr. Wicker's meticulous hand, the carved cupboard at the end of the room, and the Indian rug of many colors under his feet. Last of all he brought his look back to Mr. Wicker, sitting in the winged leather chair.\n\nMr. Wicker had a strange expression on his face. He was smiling but at the same time he looked sad. And for the first time Chris saw some curious-looking garments folded neatly on a stool before the fire. Mr. Wicker, watching him as he gazed about, saw the question in his eyes. <|quote_start|>\"Do you not recognise these things, Christopher?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\nChris looked more closely, touching nothing. His voice was bewildered. \"Well -- it seems to me I may have seen them before -- they sort of look familiar, but -- I couldn't be sure.\"\n\nHis master's voice was gentle. \"They are your twentieth-century clothes, my lad. The ones you wear in your own time. And deeply as it hurts me to say it, the moment has come for you to put them on.\"\n\nChris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Well -- it seems to me I may have seen them before -- they sort of look familiar, but -- I couldn't be sure.\"", "start_byte": 312286, "end_byte": 312396, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 550.3050073242188, "cut_end_time": 558.1700698242188, "narration": {"text": "Chris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair.", "cut_start_time": 572.9749975585938, "cut_end_time": 578.6201225585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Inside, the ruby damask curtains were drawn close across the windows, for it was nearly dark, and the fire here too was as red as the rose that was the joy of a princess of China. Chris closed the door behind him, looking around with a smile at the familiar walls and objects he had missed and dreamed of, many a time, the table with its flowers in a fine China bowl, the desk between the windows with the long-feathered quill pens and the papers marked by Mr. Wicker's meticulous hand, the carved cupboard at the end of the room, and the Indian rug of many colors under his feet. Last of all he brought his look back to Mr. Wicker, sitting in the winged leather chair.\n\nMr. Wicker had a strange expression on his face. He was smiling but at the same time he looked sad. And for the first time Chris saw some curious-looking garments folded neatly on a stool before the fire. Mr. Wicker, watching him as he gazed about, saw the question in his eyes. \"Do you not recognise these things, Christopher?\" he asked.\n\nChris looked more closely, touching nothing. His voice was bewildered. <|quote_start|>\"Well -- it seems to me I may have seen them before -- they sort of look familiar, but -- I couldn't be sure.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis master's voice was gentle. \"They are your twentieth-century clothes, my lad. The ones you wear in your own time. And deeply as it hurts me to say it, the moment has come for you to put them on.\"\n\nChris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair. \"Not yet? I don't have to go now, do I, sir?\" And as he saw insistence in Mr. Wicker's face he began to expostulate as a child does when it wants to retard its bedtime.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "bewildered": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"They are your twentieth-century clothes, my lad. The ones you wear in your own time. And deeply as it hurts me to say it, the moment has come for you to put them on.\"", "start_byte": 312429, "end_byte": 312596, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 561.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 572.1601127929688, "narration": {"text": "Chris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair.", "cut_start_time": 572.9749975585938, "cut_end_time": 578.6201225585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker had a strange expression on his face. He was smiling but at the same time he looked sad. And for the first time Chris saw some curious-looking garments folded neatly on a stool before the fire. Mr. Wicker, watching him as he gazed about, saw the question in his eyes. \"Do you not recognise these things, Christopher?\" he asked.\n\nChris looked more closely, touching nothing. His voice was bewildered. \"Well -- it seems to me I may have seen them before -- they sort of look familiar, but -- I couldn't be sure.\"\n\nHis master's voice was gentle. <|quote_start|>\"They are your twentieth-century clothes, my lad. The ones you wear in your own time. And deeply as it hurts me to say it, the moment has come for you to put them on.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nChris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair. \"Not yet? I don't have to go now, do I, sir?\" And as he saw insistence in Mr. Wicker's face he began to expostulate as a child does when it wants to retard its bedtime.\n\n\"But I've scarcely got back -- I mean, here. And we've only had one talk -- I'm sure there'll be other things I've forgotten to say that you should know -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "gentle": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Not yet? I don't have to go now, do I, sir?", "start_byte": 312714, "end_byte": 312758, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.0950048828125, "cut_end_time": 583.5000048828125, "narration": {"text": " And as he saw insistence in Mr. Wicker's face he began to expostulate as a child does when it wants to retard its bedtime.", "cut_start_time": 584.2349926757813, "cut_end_time": 591.5201176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked more closely, touching nothing. His voice was bewildered. \"Well -- it seems to me I may have seen them before -- they sort of look familiar, but -- I couldn't be sure.\"\n\nHis master's voice was gentle. \"They are your twentieth-century clothes, my lad. The ones you wear in your own time. And deeply as it hurts me to say it, the moment has come for you to put them on.\"\n\nChris raised startled worried eyes to the dark penetrating ones watching him so quietly from the high-backed chair. <|quote_start|>\"Not yet? I don't have to go now, do I, sir?\"<|quote_end|> And as he saw insistence in Mr. Wicker's face he began to expostulate as a child does when it wants to retard its bedtime.\n\n\"But I've scarcely got back -- I mean, here. And we've only had one talk -- I'm sure there'll be other things I've forgotten to say that you should know -- \"\n\nHe threw out his hands as if to grasp at something that might hold him there.\n\n\"And -- and -- I didn't say good-bye to Captain Blizzard or Mr. Finney. They were wonderful to me, really they were! An", "narrative_information_pred": {"watching": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "quietly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"And -- and -- I didn't say good-bye to Captain Blizzard or Mr. Finney. They were wonderful to me, really they were! And", "start_byte": 313122, "end_byte": 313242, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 605.4850244140625, "cut_end_time": 614.9000244140625, "narration": {"text": " -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"", "cut_start_time": 615.6650000000001, "cut_end_time": 623.3000625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Not yet? I don't have to go now, do I, sir?\" And as he saw insistence in Mr. Wicker's face he began to expostulate as a child does when it wants to retard its bedtime.\n\n\"But I've scarcely got back -- I mean, here. And we've only had one talk -- I'm sure there'll be other things I've forgotten to say that you should know -- \"\n\nHe threw out his hands as if to grasp at something that might hold him there.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And -- and -- I didn't say good-bye to Captain Blizzard or Mr. Finney. They were wonderful to me, really they were! And\"<|quote_end|> -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"\n\nHe stood there against the door, swallowing hard with his head down, his stomach and his throat a mass of hateful knots and the whole of him swamped with unhappiness. Mr. Wicker had never moved, his elbows on the arms of his chair, and his folded hands just touching his chin. At last Chris whispered: \"Does it have to be?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"became": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "small": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "high": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "disappearing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "whisper": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Does it have to be?\"", "start_byte": 313675, "end_byte": 313696, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 642.4350122070313, "cut_end_time": 643.4900122070313, "narration": {"text": " -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"", "cut_start_time": 615.6650000000001, "cut_end_time": 623.3000625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"And -- and -- I didn't say good-bye to Captain Blizzard or Mr. Finney. They were wonderful to me, really they were! And\" -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"\n\nHe stood there against the door, swallowing hard with his head down, his stomach and his throat a mass of hateful knots and the whole of him swamped with unhappiness. Mr. Wicker had never moved, his elbows on the arms of his chair, and his folded hands just touching his chin. At last Chris whispered: <|quote_start|>\"Does it have to be?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"It has to be,\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nWithout a word, Chris took the folded clothes that seemed so unfamiliar off the stool and dressed behind the other leather chair, his lower lip trembling. Mechanically, as boys will, he shifted everything from his pockets to those of the trousers he had just put on. With careful slow gestures he folded up the knee breeches, the full-sleeved shirt, the long white hose and silver buckled shoes, the flare-backed jacket last of all, and put them where his clothes had been.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"It has to be,", "start_byte": 313714, "end_byte": 313728, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 644.6449731445313, "cut_end_time": 645.6900981445312, "narration": {"text": " -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"", "cut_start_time": 615.6650000000001, "cut_end_time": 623.3000625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\" -- his voice suddenly became very small and high, disappearing to a whisper at the end -- \"and Becky and Ned and dear Amos -- \"\n\nHe stood there against the door, swallowing hard with his head down, his stomach and his throat a mass of hateful knots and the whole of him swamped with unhappiness. Mr. Wicker had never moved, his elbows on the arms of his chair, and his folded hands just touching his chin. At last Chris whispered: \"Does it have to be?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It has to be,\"<|quote_end|> said Mr. Wicker.\n\nWithout a word, Chris took the folded clothes that seemed so unfamiliar off the stool and dressed behind the other leather chair, his lower lip trembling. Mechanically, as boys will, he shifted everything from his pockets to those of the trousers he had just put on. With careful slow gestures he folded up the knee breeches, the full-sleeved shirt, the long white hose and silver buckled shoes, the flare-backed jacket last of all, and put them where his clothes had been.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"I am afraid I shall have to have the leather pouch, Christopher,", "start_byte": 314314, "end_byte": 314379, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 679.9050244140625, "cut_end_time": 683.1600869140625, "narration": {"text": " he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.", "cut_start_time": 683.3350122070312, "cut_end_time": 689.5400747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Without a word, Chris took the folded clothes that seemed so unfamiliar off the stool and dressed behind the other leather chair, his lower lip trembling. Mechanically, as boys will, he shifted everything from his pockets to those of the trousers he had just put on. With careful slow gestures he folded up the knee breeches, the full-sleeved shirt, the long white hose and silver buckled shoes, the flare-backed jacket last of all, and put them where his clothes had been.\n\nMr. Wicker then spoke, getting slowly to his feet and standing with his back to the fire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I am afraid I shall have to have the leather pouch, Christopher,\"<|quote_end|> he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"More than that,\" Mr. Wicker said, putting the pouch in his pocket, \"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.\" He paused. \"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.\" He waited. \"Choose well.\"\n\nChris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"More than that,", "start_byte": 314500, "end_byte": 314516, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 690.145, "cut_end_time": 691.1700625, "narration": {"text": " he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.", "cut_start_time": 683.3350122070312, "cut_end_time": 689.5400747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Without a word, Chris took the folded clothes that seemed so unfamiliar off the stool and dressed behind the other leather chair, his lower lip trembling. Mechanically, as boys will, he shifted everything from his pockets to those of the trousers he had just put on. With careful slow gestures he folded up the knee breeches, the full-sleeved shirt, the long white hose and silver buckled shoes, the flare-backed jacket last of all, and put them where his clothes had been.\n\nMr. Wicker then spoke, getting slowly to his feet and standing with his back to the fire.\n\n\"I am afraid I shall have to have the leather pouch, Christopher,\" he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n<|quote_start|>\"More than that,\"<|quote_end|> Mr. Wicker said, putting the pouch in his pocket, \"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.\" He paused. \"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.\" He waited. \"Choose well.\"\n\nChris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.\n\nTo make a boat or eagle or dolphin out of rope? Very tempting! How the kids would envy him!\n\nOr change himself in other shapes? So useful. He hesitated.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.", "start_byte": 314568, "end_byte": 314649, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 694.2249829101563, "cut_end_time": 698.3001079101563, "narration": {"text": " he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.", "cut_start_time": 683.3350122070312, "cut_end_time": 689.5400747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Without a word, Chris took the folded clothes that seemed so unfamiliar off the stool and dressed behind the other leather chair, his lower lip trembling. Mechanically, as boys will, he shifted everything from his pockets to those of the trousers he had just put on. With careful slow gestures he folded up the knee breeches, the full-sleeved shirt, the long white hose and silver buckled shoes, the flare-backed jacket last of all, and put them where his clothes had been.\n\nMr. Wicker then spoke, getting slowly to his feet and standing with his back to the fire.\n\n\"I am afraid I shall have to have the leather pouch, Christopher,\" he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"More than that,\" Mr. Wicker said, putting the pouch in his pocket, <|quote_start|>\"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.\"<|quote_end|> He paused. \"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.\" He waited. \"Choose well.\"\n\nChris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.\n\nTo make a boat or eagle or dolphin out of rope? Very tempting! How the kids would envy him!\n\nOr change himself in other shapes? So useful. He hesitated.\n\n\"I'd like to be able to come back, sir,\" he said, and his growing grief at those he must leave prevented him from saying anything else. Mr. Wicker's face broke into a radiant smile and he held out his firm hand.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.", "start_byte": 314662, "end_byte": 314726, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 700.4849951171875, "cut_end_time": 704.4700576171875, "narration": {"text": " he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.", "cut_start_time": 683.3350122070312, "cut_end_time": 689.5400747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Mr. Wicker then spoke, getting slowly to his feet and standing with his back to the fire.\n\n\"I am afraid I shall have to have the leather pouch, Christopher,\" he said, holding out his hand. Chris took it off and put it in the long, strong hand of the magician.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"More than that,\" Mr. Wicker said, putting the pouch in his pocket, \"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.\" He paused. <|quote_start|>\"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.\"<|quote_end|> He waited. \"Choose well.\"\n\nChris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.\n\nTo make a boat or eagle or dolphin out of rope? Very tempting! How the kids would envy him!\n\nOr change himself in other shapes? So useful. He hesitated.\n\n\"I'd like to be able to come back, sir,\" he said, and his growing grief at those he must leave prevented him from saying anything else. Mr. Wicker's face broke into a radiant smile and he held out his firm hand.", "narrative_information_pred": {"paused": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"I'd like to be able to come back, sir,", "start_byte": 315006, "end_byte": 315045, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 726.4449829101562, "cut_end_time": 728.9801079101562, "narration": {"text": "He stepped forward and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes were deeply sad although his lips still smiled.", "cut_start_time": 747.9050146484375, "cut_end_time": 754.3300146484376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\" Mr. Wicker said, putting the pouch in his pocket, \"I shall have to take everything from you that you have gained here, Christopher.\" He paused. \"All but one thing which you may choose and keep -- one ability.\" He waited. \"Choose well.\"\n\nChris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.\n\nTo make a boat or eagle or dolphin out of rope? Very tempting! How the kids would envy him!\n\nOr change himself in other shapes? So useful. He hesitated.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'd like to be able to come back, sir,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and his growing grief at those he must leave prevented him from saying anything else. Mr. Wicker's face broke into a radiant smile and he held out his firm hand.\n\n\"So you shall, Christopher, so you shall! And you shall remember it all, I promise you. That too, you can have.\"\n\nHe stepped forward and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes were deeply sad although his lips still smiled.\n\n\"And now,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"good soldier that you are for General Washington and for your country, all that you learned must leave you and remain with me.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"So you shall, Christopher, so you shall! And you shall remember it all, I promise you. That too, you can have.\"", "start_byte": 315219, "end_byte": 315331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 739.2850122070313, "cut_end_time": 747.4700747070312, "narration": {"text": "He stepped forward and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes were deeply sad although his lips still smiled.", "cut_start_time": 747.9050146484375, "cut_end_time": 754.3300146484376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Chris looked up at the man he admired and respected and had grown to love, and pondered deeply.\n\nTo make a boat or eagle or dolphin out of rope? Very tempting! How the kids would envy him!\n\nOr change himself in other shapes? So useful. He hesitated.\n\n\"I'd like to be able to come back, sir,\" he said, and his growing grief at those he must leave prevented him from saying anything else. Mr. Wicker's face broke into a radiant smile and he held out his firm hand.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So you shall, Christopher, so you shall! And you shall remember it all, I promise you. That too, you can have.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe stepped forward and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes were deeply sad although his lips still smiled.\n\n\"And now,\" said Mr. Wicker, \"good soldier that you are for General Washington and for your country, all that you learned must leave you and remain with me.\"\n\nMr. Wicker put his hand briefly on Chris's head, let it slip to cover his eyes -- so lightly it was scarcely felt -- and then to cover his mouth. Chris waited, but he felt no different.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"good soldier that you are for General Washington and for your country, all that you learned must leave you and remain with me.\"", "start_byte": 315480, "end_byte": 315608, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 757.2750122070313, "cut_end_time": 764.9300747070313, "narration": {"text": "Mr. Wicker put his hand briefly on Chris's head, let it slip to cover his eyes -- so lightly it was scarcely felt -- and then to cover his mouth. Chris waited, but he felt no different.", "cut_start_time": 765.89501953125, "cut_end_time": 775.06008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\" he said, and his growing grief at those he must leave prevented him from saying anything else. Mr. Wicker's face broke into a radiant smile and he held out his firm hand.\n\n\"So you shall, Christopher, so you shall! And you shall remember it all, I promise you. That too, you can have.\"\n\nHe stepped forward and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes were deeply sad although his lips still smiled.\n\n\"And now,\" said Mr. Wicker, <|quote_start|>\"good soldier that you are for General Washington and for your country, all that you learned must leave you and remain with me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMr. Wicker put his hand briefly on Chris's head, let it slip to cover his eyes -- so lightly it was scarcely felt -- and then to cover his mouth. Chris waited, but he felt no different.\n\n\"Be a fly!\" commanded the magician.\n\nChris searched his mind. There were words to say, and you thought hard. He tried once more, and a third time, and then wordlessly shook his head.\n\n\"Make a rope boat!\" said Mr. Wicker.\n\nChris took the rope and as it hung from his hands he wondered how one set about it -- he had known how, once upon a time. He let the inert rope fall to the floor. Mr. Wicker put a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward the door.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/4062.mrwhickerswindow_35_dawson_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 31}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/431/121/turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb.json b/benchmark/431/121/turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..7674d22acbe853fb94770fccf5f7a907da7a97d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/431/121/turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "431/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "121/turn_screw_librivox_64kb_mp3/turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "121", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cLook here, my dear, you know,", "start_byte": 142865, "end_byte": 142895, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 163.1350048828125, "cut_end_time": 164.99000488281249, "narration": {"text": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us.", "cut_start_time": 291.7349987792969, "cut_end_time": 296.5600612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Walking to church a certain Sunday morning, I had little Miles at my side and his sister, in advance of us and at Mrs. Grose\u2019s, well in sight. It was a crisp, clear day, the first of its order for some time; the night had brought a touch of frost, and the autumn air, bright and sharp, made the church bells almost gay. It was an odd accident of thought that I should have happened at such a moment to be particularly and very gratefully struck with the obedience of my little charges. Why did they never resent my inexorable, my perpetual society? Something or other had brought nearer home to me that I had all but pinned the boy to my shawl and that, in the way our companions were marshaled before me, I might have appeared to provide against some danger of rebellion. I was like a gaoler with an eye to possible surprises and escapes. But all this belonged \u2014 I mean their magnificent little surrender \u2014 just to the special array of the facts that were most abysmal. Turned out for Sunday by his uncle\u2019s tailor, who had had a free hand and a notion of pretty waistcoats and of his grand little air, Miles\u2019s whole title to independence, the rights of his sex and situation, were so stamped upon him that if he had suddenly struck for freedom I should have had nothing to say. I was by the strangest of chances wondering how I should meet him when the revolution unmistakably occurred. I call it a revolution because I now see how, with the word he spoke, the curtain rose on the last act of my dreadful drama, and the catastrophe was precipitated. <|quote_start|>\u201cLook here, my dear, you know,\u201d<|quote_end|> he charmingly said, \u201cwhen in the world, please, am I going back to school?\u201d\n\nTranscribed here the speech sounds harmless enough, particularly as uttered in the sweet, high, casual pipe with which, at all interlocutors, but above all at his eternal governess, he threw off intonations as if he were tossing roses. There was something in them that always made one \u201ccatch,\u201d and I caught, at any rate, now so effectually that I stopped as short as if one of the trees of the park had fallen across the road. There was something new, on the spot, between us, and he was perfectly aware that I recognized it, though, to enable me to do so, he had no need to look a whit less candid and charming than usual. I could feel in him how he already, from my at first finding nothing to reply, perceived the advantage he had gained. I was so slow to find anything that he had plenty of time, after a minute, to continue with his suggestive but inconclusive smile:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "charmingly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cwhen in the world, please, am I going back to school?\u201d", "start_byte": 142917, "end_byte": 142972, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 167.93499938964842, "cut_end_time": 171.75006188964844, "narration": {"text": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us.", "cut_start_time": 291.7349987792969, "cut_end_time": 296.5600612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Walking to church a certain Sunday morning, I had little Miles at my side and his sister, in advance of us and at Mrs. Grose\u2019s, well in sight. It was a crisp, clear day, the first of its order for some time; the night had brought a touch of frost, and the autumn air, bright and sharp, made the church bells almost gay. It was an odd accident of thought that I should have happened at such a moment to be particularly and very gratefully struck with the obedience of my little charges. Why did they never resent my inexorable, my perpetual society? Something or other had brought nearer home to me that I had all but pinned the boy to my shawl and that, in the way our companions were marshaled before me, I might have appeared to provide against some danger of rebellion. I was like a gaoler with an eye to possible surprises and escapes. But all this belonged \u2014 I mean their magnificent little surrender \u2014 just to the special array of the facts that were most abysmal. Turned out for Sunday by his uncle\u2019s tailor, who had had a free hand and a notion of pretty waistcoats and of his grand little air, Miles\u2019s whole title to independence, the rights of his sex and situation, were so stamped upon him that if he had suddenly struck for freedom I should have had nothing to say. I was by the strangest of chances wondering how I should meet him when the revolution unmistakably occurred. I call it a revolution because I now see how, with the word he spoke, the curtain rose on the last act of my dreadful drama, and the catastrophe was precipitated. \u201cLook here, my dear, you know,\u201d he charmingly said, <|quote_start|>\u201cwhen in the world, please, am I going back to school?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nTranscribed here the speech sounds harmless enough, particularly as uttered in the sweet, high, casual pipe with which, at all interlocutors, but above all at his eternal governess, he threw off intonations as if he were tossing roses. There was something in them that always made one \u201ccatch,\u201d and I caught, at any rate, now so effectually that I stopped as short as if one of the trees of the park had fallen across the road. There was something new, on the spot, between us, and he was perfectly aware that I recognized it, though, to enable me to do so, he had no need to look a whit less candid and charming than usual. I could feel in him how he already, from my at first finding nothing to reply, perceived the advantage he had gained. I was so slow to find anything that he had plenty of time, after a minute, to continue with his suggestive but inconclusive smile:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cYou know, my dear, that for a fellow to be with a lady always \u2014 !", "start_byte": 143847, "end_byte": 143913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 245.69500244140625, "cut_end_time": 249.74006494140625, "narration": {"text": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us.", "cut_start_time": 291.7349987792969, "cut_end_time": 296.5600612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Transcribed here the speech sounds harmless enough, particularly as uttered in the sweet, high, casual pipe with which, at all interlocutors, but above all at his eternal governess, he threw off intonations as if he were tossing roses. There was something in them that always made one \u201ccatch,\u201d and I caught, at any rate, now so effectually that I stopped as short as if one of the trees of the park had fallen across the road. There was something new, on the spot, between us, and he was perfectly aware that I recognized it, though, to enable me to do so, he had no need to look a whit less candid and charming than usual. I could feel in him how he already, from my at first finding nothing to reply, perceived the advantage he had gained. I was so slow to find anything that he had plenty of time, after a minute, to continue with his suggestive but inconclusive smile: <|quote_start|>\u201cYou know, my dear, that for a fellow to be with a lady always \u2014 !\u201d<|quote_end|> His \u201cmy dear\u201d was constantly on his lips for me, and nothing could have expressed more the exact shade of the sentiment with which I desired to inspire my pupils than its fond familiarity. It was so respectfully easy.\n\nBut, oh, how I felt that at present I must pick my own phrases! I remember that, to gain time, I tried to laugh, and I seemed to see in the beautiful face with which he watched me how ugly and queer I looked. \u201cAnd always with the same lady", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201cAnd always with the same lady?", "start_byte": 144343, "end_byte": 144374, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 287.03498779296876, "cut_end_time": 289.4201127929688, "narration": {"text": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us.", "cut_start_time": 291.7349987792969, "cut_end_time": 296.5600612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou know, my dear, that for a fellow to be with a lady always \u2014 !\u201d His \u201cmy dear\u201d was constantly on his lips for me, and nothing could have expressed more the exact shade of the sentiment with which I desired to inspire my pupils than its fond familiarity. It was so respectfully easy.\n\nBut, oh, how I felt that at present I must pick my own phrases! I remember that, to gain time, I tried to laugh, and I seemed to see in the beautiful face with which he watched me how ugly and queer I looked. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd always with the same lady?\u201d<|quote_end|> I returned.\n\nHe neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us. \u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d\n\nI lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. \u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"returned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d", "start_byte": 144467, "end_byte": 144586, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.27499511718753, "cut_end_time": 311.2501201171875, "narration": {"text": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us.", "cut_start_time": 291.7349987792969, "cut_end_time": 296.5600612792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201d His \u201cmy dear\u201d was constantly on his lips for me, and nothing could have expressed more the exact shade of the sentiment with which I desired to inspire my pupils than its fond familiarity. It was so respectfully easy.\n\nBut, oh, how I felt that at present I must pick my own phrases! I remember that, to gain time, I tried to laugh, and I seemed to see in the beautiful face with which he watched me how ugly and queer I looked. \u201cAnd always with the same lady?\u201d I returned.\n\nHe neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us. <|quote_start|>\u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. \u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.", "start_byte": 144641, "end_byte": 144665, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 317.7950122070313, "cut_end_time": 319.49001220703127, "narration": {"text": "I have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it.", "cut_start_time": 324.36500610351567, "cut_end_time": 332.32006860351567, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "But, oh, how I felt that at present I must pick my own phrases! I remember that, to gain time, I tried to laugh, and I seemed to see in the beautiful face with which he watched me how ugly and queer I looked. \u201cAnd always with the same lady?\u201d I returned.\n\nHe neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us. \u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d\n\nI lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d<|quote_end|> Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"lingered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "kindly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d", "start_byte": 144798, "end_byte": 144854, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 333.4950085449219, "cut_end_time": 336.8600710449219, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "He neither blanched nor winked. The whole thing was virtually out between us. \u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d\n\nI lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. \u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. <|quote_start|>\u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d", "start_byte": 144980, "end_byte": 145010, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 347.7750024414063, "cut_end_time": 350.4700024414063, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, of course, she\u2019s a jolly, \u2018perfect\u2019 lady; but, after all, I\u2019m a fellow, don\u2019t you see? that\u2019s \u2014 well, getting on.\u201d\n\nI lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. \u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. <|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laid": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d", "start_byte": 145012, "end_byte": 145054, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 352.4549865722656, "cut_end_time": 355.21011157226565, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "I lingered there with him an instant ever so kindly. \u201cYes, you\u2019re getting on.\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cThat one night?", "start_byte": 145056, "end_byte": 145072, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 357.5950122070313, "cut_end_time": 358.9000122070313, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201d Oh, but I felt helpless!\n\nI have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat one night?\u201d<|quote_end|> I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d", "start_byte": 145110, "end_byte": 145158, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 361.84499267578127, "cut_end_time": 366.3500551757813, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "I have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d", "start_byte": 145160, "end_byte": 145204, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 367.22499267578127, "cut_end_time": 370.5400551757813, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "I have kept to this day the heartbreaking little idea of how he seemed to know that and to play with it. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cYou forget?", "start_byte": 145206, "end_byte": 145218, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 371.3349914550781, "cut_end_time": 372.4800539550781, "narration": {"text": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able.", "cut_start_time": 337.6450122070313, "cut_end_time": 346.1900747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd you can\u2019t say I\u2019ve not been awfully good, can you?\u201d\n\nI laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou forget?\u201d<|quote_end|> \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sweet": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "extravagance": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d", "start_byte": 145281, "end_byte": 145315, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 379.07500122070314, "cut_end_time": 382.12000122070316, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. <|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sweet": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "extravagance": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d", "start_byte": 145317, "end_byte": 145338, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 382.654990234375, "cut_end_time": 385.010115234375, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d", "start_byte": 145340, "end_byte": 145358, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 385.70501220703125, "cut_end_time": 387.03007470703125, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "I laid my hand on his shoulder, for, though I felt how much better it would have been to walk on, I was not yet quite able. \u201cNo, I can\u2019t say that, Miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcept just that one night, you know \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d", "start_byte": 145438, "end_byte": 145465, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 395.6049853515625, "cut_end_time": 398.34004785156253, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat one night?\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. <|quote_start|>\u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d", "start_byte": 145467, "end_byte": 145504, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 399.9449926757813, "cut_end_time": 404.26005517578125, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201d I couldn\u2019t look as straight as he.\n\n\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cIt was nothing,", "start_byte": 145506, "end_byte": 145522, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 405.0949963378906, "cut_end_time": 406.46012133789066, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d<|quote_end|> I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cBut we must go on.\u201d", "start_byte": 145532, "end_byte": 145552, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 408.2650134277344, "cut_end_time": 409.7000134277344, "narration": {"text": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me.", "cut_start_time": 388.7150122070313, "cut_end_time": 394.7100122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, when I went down \u2014 went out of the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. But I forget what you did it for.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget?\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. <|quote_start|>\u201cBut we must go on.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d", "start_byte": 145613, "end_byte": 145641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 416.724990234375, "cut_end_time": 418.620115234375, "narration": {"text": "He resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm.", "cut_start_time": 410.804990234375, "cut_end_time": 415.260052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201d \u2014 he spoke with the sweet extravagance of childish reproach. \u201cWhy, it was to show you I could!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. <|quote_start|>\u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d", "start_byte": 145696, "end_byte": 145728, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 424.96500122070313, "cut_end_time": 427.2200012207031, "narration": {"text": "\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 442.305, "cut_end_time": 448.66, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, yes, you could.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I can again.\u201d\n\nI felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. <|quote_start|>\u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"wore": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d", "start_byte": 145750, "end_byte": 145782, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 431.87499633789065, "cut_end_time": 434.6201213378906, "narration": {"text": "\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 442.305, "cut_end_time": 448.66, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. <|quote_start|>\u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"considered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d", "start_byte": 145810, "end_byte": 145844, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.9850146484375, "cut_end_time": 441.41001464843754, "narration": {"text": "\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 442.305, "cut_end_time": 448.66, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "I felt that I might, perhaps, after all, succeed in keeping my wits about me. \u201cCertainly. But you won\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not that again. It was nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, <|quote_start|>\u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"quavered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?", "start_byte": 145908, "end_byte": 145951, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 449.7749987792969, "cut_end_time": 452.7701237792969, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201d I said. \u201cBut we must go on.\u201d\n\nHe resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d<|quote_end|> I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"risked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cNot half I want to!", "start_byte": 145977, "end_byte": 145997, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 458.0450073242188, "cut_end_time": 459.5400698242188, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "He resumed our walk with me, passing his hand into my arm. \u201cThen when am I going back?\u201d\n\nI wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d<|quote_end|> Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"professed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "honestly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d", "start_byte": 146025, "end_byte": 146053, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 463.6050134277344, "cut_end_time": 465.3600134277344, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "I wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. <|quote_start|>\u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {"professed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "honestly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d", "start_byte": 146055, "end_byte": 146074, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 466.17499633789066, "cut_end_time": 467.23012133789064, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "I wore, in turning it over, my most responsible air. \u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d", "start_byte": 146076, "end_byte": 146109, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 468.7950061035157, "cut_end_time": 472.03000610351563, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWere you very happy at school?\u201d\n\nHe just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI see; I see.\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cI see; I see.", "start_byte": 146111, "end_byte": 146125, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 473.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 475.4601201171875, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "He just considered. \u201cOh, I\u2019m happy enough anywhere!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I quavered, \u201cif you\u2019re just as happy here \u2014 !\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but that isn\u2019t everything! Of course you know a lot \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut you hint that you know almost as much?\u201d I risked as he paused.\n\n\u201cNot half I want to!\u201d Miles honestly professed. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t so much that.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell \u2014 I want to see more life.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI see; I see.\u201d<|quote_end|> We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 ", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d", "start_byte": 146815, "end_byte": 146836, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 526.3349731445313, "cut_end_time": 528.3000356445312, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. \u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d I laughed. \u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d\n\nThis found me singularly weak. \u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!", "start_byte": 146874, "end_byte": 146918, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 532.85498046875, "cut_end_time": 535.27004296875, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. <|quote_start|>\u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d<|quote_end|> I laughed. \u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d\n\nThis found me singularly weak. \u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d", "start_byte": 146931, "end_byte": 146966, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 536.73498046875, "cut_end_time": 538.6800429687501, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. \u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d I laughed. <|quote_start|>\u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d\n\nThis found me singularly weak. \u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d", "start_byte": 146968, "end_byte": 147007, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 539.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 542.3300478515625, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. \u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d I laughed. \u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThis found me singularly weak. \u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d", "start_byte": 147040, "end_byte": 147080, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 550.2650122070313, "cut_end_time": 552.8500122070312, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. \u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d I laughed. \u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d\n\nThis found me singularly weak. <|quote_start|>\u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {"found": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !", "start_byte": 147082, "end_byte": 147126, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 554.4449829101562, "cut_end_time": 558.4201079101563, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201d We had arrived within sight of the church and of various persons, including several of the household of Bly, on their way to it and clustered about the door to see us go in. I quickened our step; I wanted to get there before the question between us opened up much further; I reflected hungrily that, for more than an hour, he would have to be silent; and I thought with envy of the comparative dusk of the pew and of the almost spiritual help of the hassock on which I might bend my knees. I seemed literally to be running a race with some confusion to which he was about to reduce me, but I felt that he had got in first when, before we had even entered the churchyard, he threw out \u2014 \n\n\u201cI want my own sort!\u201d\n\nIt literally made me bound forward. \u201cThere are not many of your own sort, Miles!\u201d I laughed. \u201cUnless perhaps dear little Flora!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou really compare me to a baby girl?\u201d\n\nThis found me singularly weak. \u201cDon\u2019t you, then, love our sweet Flora?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIf I didn\u2019t \u2014 and you, too; if I didn\u2019t \u2014 !\u201d<|quote_end|> he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d", "start_byte": 147560, "end_byte": 147584, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 594.865009765625, "cut_end_time": 596.760072265625, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"imposed": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cWell, you know what!", "start_byte": 147628, "end_byte": 147649, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 602.9150146484375, "cut_end_time": 604.9800146484375, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.\n\n\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. <|quote_start|>\u201cWell, you know what!\u201d<|quote_end|> But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial.", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d", "start_byte": 147782, "end_byte": 147819, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 615.4149951171876, "cut_end_time": 617.7300576171875, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.\n\n\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. <|quote_start|>\u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial.", "narrative_information_pred": {"produced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d", "start_byte": 147840, "end_byte": 147871, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 621.245, "cut_end_time": 623.7300625, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.\n\n\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. <|quote_start|>\u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"rested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "markedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d", "start_byte": 147873, "end_byte": 147965, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 624.8350073242187, "cut_end_time": 633.8800698242188, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he repeated as if retreating for a jump, yet leaving his thought so unfinished that, after we had come into the gate, another stop, which he imposed on me by the pressure of his arm, had become inevitable. Mrs. Grose and Flora had passed into the church, the other worshippers had followed, and we were, for the minute, alone among the old, thick graves. We had paused, on the path from the gate, by a low, oblong, tablelike tomb.\n\n\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d", "start_byte": 147967, "end_byte": 147986, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 635.005009765625, "cut_end_time": 636.540009765625, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, if you didn\u2019t \u2014 ?\u201d\n\nHe looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d", "start_byte": 147988, "end_byte": 148016, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 637.6149853515625, "cut_end_time": 639.7900478515626, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "He looked, while I waited, at the graves. \u201cWell, you know what!\u201d But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest. \u201cDoes my uncle think what you think?\u201d\n\nI markedly rested. \u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d", "start_byte": 148248, "end_byte": 148286, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 656.3050000000001, "cut_end_time": 658.8600625, "narration": {"text": " But he didn\u2019t move, and he presently produced something that made me drop straight down on the stone slab, as if suddenly to rest.", "cut_start_time": 606.0849853515625, "cut_end_time": 614.9500478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHow do you know what I think?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. <|quote_start|>\u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will!\u201d the boy said with extraordinary brightness and emphasis. He gave me another look charged with that expression and then marched off alone into church.\n\nXV\n\nThe business was practically settled from the moment I never followed him. It was a pitiful surrender to agitation, but my being aware of this had somehow no power to restore me. I only sat there on my tomb and read into what my little friend had said to me the fullness of its meaning; by the time I had grasped the whole of which I had also embraced, for absence, the pretext that I was ashamed to offer my pupils and the rest of the congregation such an example of delay. What I said to myself above all was that Miles had got something out of me and that the proof of it, for him, would be just this awkward collapse. He had got out of me that there was something I was much afraid of and that he should probably be able to make use of my fear to gain, for his own purpose, more freedom. My fear was of having to deal with the intolerable question of the grounds of his dismissal from school, for that was really but the question of the horrors gathered behind. That his uncle should arrive to treat with me of these things was a solution that, strictly speaking, I ought now to have desired to bring on; but I could so little face the ugliness and the pain of it that I simply procrastinated and lived from hand to mouth. The boy, to my deep discomposure, was immensely in the right, was in a position to say to me:", "narrative_information_pred": {"appeared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d", "start_byte": 148325, "end_byte": 148366, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 664.9250244140625, "cut_end_time": 667.5200244140625, "narration": {"text": "Miles, on this, stood looking at me.", "cut_start_time": 660.2250170898437, "cut_end_time": 663.2300795898437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. <|quote_start|>\u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will!\u201d the boy said with extraordinary brightness and emphasis. He gave me another look charged with that expression and then marched off alone into church.\n\nXV\n\nThe business was practically settled from the moment I never followed him. It was a pitiful surrender to agitation, but my being aware of this had somehow no power to restore me. I only sat there on my tomb and read into what my little friend had said to me the fullness of its meaning; by the time I had grasped the whole of which I had also embraced, for absence, the pretext that I was ashamed to offer my pupils and the rest of the congregation such an example of delay. What I said to myself above all was that Miles had got something out of me and that the proof of it, for him, would be just this awkward collapse. He had got out of me that there was something I was much afraid of and that he should probably be able to make use of my fear to gain, for his own purpose, more freedom. My fear was of having to deal with the intolerable question of the grounds of his dismissal from school, for that was really but the question of the horrors gathered behind. That his uncle should arrive to treat with me of these things was a solution that, strictly speaking, I ought now to have desired to bring on; but I could so little face the ugliness and the pain of it that I simply procrastinated and lived from hand to mouth. The boy, to my deep discomposure, was immensely in the right, was in a position to say to me:", "narrative_information_pred": {"stood": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\u201cIn what way?\u201d", "start_byte": 148368, "end_byte": 148382, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 668.814990234375, "cut_end_time": 669.9501152343751, "narration": {"text": "Miles, on this, stood looking at me.", "cut_start_time": 660.2250170898437, "cut_end_time": 663.2300795898437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh, well, of course I don\u2019t; for it strikes me you never tell me. But I mean does he know?\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIn what way?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will!\u201d the boy said with extraordinary brightness and emphasis. He gave me another look charged with that expression and then marched off alone into church.\n\nXV\n\nThe business was practically settled from the moment I never followed him. It was a pitiful surrender to agitation, but my being aware of this had somehow no power to restore me. I only sat there on my tomb and read into what my little friend had said to me the fullness of its meaning; by the time I had grasped the whole of which I had also embraced, for absence, the pretext that I was ashamed to offer my pupils and the rest of the congregation such an example of delay. What I said to myself above all was that Miles had got something out of me and that the proof of it, for him, would be just this awkward collapse. He had got out of me that there was something I was much afraid of and that he should probably be able to make use of my fear to gain, for his own purpose, more freedom. My fear was of having to deal with the intolerable question of the grounds of his dismissal from school, for that was really but the question of the horrors gathered behind. That his uncle should arrive to treat with me of these things was a solution that, strictly speaking, I ought now to have desired to bring on; but I could so little face the ugliness and the pain of it that I simply procrastinated and lived from hand to mouth. The boy, to my deep discomposure, was immensely in the right, was in a position to say to me:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d", "start_byte": 148384, "end_byte": 148410, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 670.9750219726562, "cut_end_time": 673.7500219726563, "narration": {"text": "Miles, on this, stood looking at me.", "cut_start_time": 660.2250170898437, "cut_end_time": 663.2300795898437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "\u201cKnow what, Miles?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will!\u201d the boy said with extraordinary brightness and emphasis. He gave me another look charged with that expression and then marched off alone into church.\n\nXV\n\nThe business was practically settled from the moment I never followed him. It was a pitiful surrender to agitation, but my being aware of this had somehow no power to restore me. I only sat there on my tomb and read into what my little friend had said to me the fullness of its meaning; by the time I had grasped the whole of which I had also embraced, for absence, the pretext that I was ashamed to offer my pupils and the rest of the congregation such an example of delay. What I said to myself above all was that Miles had got something out of me and that the proof of it, for him, would be just this awkward collapse. He had got out of me that there was something I was much afraid of and that he should probably be able to make use of my fear to gain, for his own purpose, more freedom. My fear was of having to deal with the intolerable question of the grounds of his dismissal from school, for that was really but the question of the horrors gathered behind. That his uncle should arrive to treat with me of these things was a solution that, strictly speaking, I ought now to have desired to bring on; but I could so little face the ugliness and the pain of it that I simply procrastinated and lived from hand to mouth. The boy, to my deep discomposure, was immensely in the right, was in a position to say to me:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d", "start_byte": 148412, "end_byte": 148446, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 674.7249731445313, "cut_end_time": 676.6000981445312, "narration": {"text": "Miles, on this, stood looking at me.", "cut_start_time": 660.2250170898437, "cut_end_time": 663.2300795898437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhy, the way I\u2019m going on.\u201d\n\nI perceived quickly enough that I could make, to this inquiry, no answer that would not involve something of a sacrifice of my employer. Yet it appeared to me that we were all, at Bly, sufficiently sacrificed to make that venial. \u201cI don\u2019t think your uncle much cares.\u201d\n\nMiles, on this, stood looking at me. \u201cThen don\u2019t you think he can be made to?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what way?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, by his coming down.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut who\u2019ll get him to come down?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI will!\u201d the boy said with extraordinary brightness and emphasis. He gave me another look charged with that expression and then marched off alone into church.\n\nXV\n\nThe business was practically settled from the moment I never followed him. It was a pitiful surrender to agitation, but my being aware of this had somehow no power to restore me. I only sat there on my tomb and read into what my little friend had said to me the fullness of its meaning; by the time I had grasped the whole of which I had also embraced, for absence, the pretext that I was ashamed to offer my pupils and the rest of the congregation such an example of delay. What I said to myself above all was that Miles had got something out of me and that the proof of it, for him, would be just this awkward collapse. He had got out of me that there was something I was much afraid of and that he should probably be able to make use of my fear to gain, for his own purpose, more freedom. My fear was of having to deal with the intolerable question of the grounds of his dismissal from school, for that was really but the question of the horrors gathered behind. That his uncle should arrive to treat with me of these things was a solution that, strictly speaking, I ought now to have desired to bring on; but I could so little face the ugliness and the pain of it that I simply procrastinated and lived from hand to mouth. The boy, to my deep discomposure, was immensely in the right, was in a position to say to me:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/431.turn_of_the_screw_14_james_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 50}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/47/metadata.json b/benchmark/47/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..43edde40a84c3d0ac7085d375814a7e5470a1c60
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/47/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "47", "title": "Count of Monte Cristo", "description": "<i>The Count of Monte Cristo</i> (French: <i>Le Comte de Monte-Cristo</i>) is an adventure novel by Alexandre Dumas, p\u00e8re. It is often considered, along with <i>The Three Musketeers</i>, as Dumas's most popular work. The writing of the work was completed in 1844. Like many of his novels, it is expanded from the plot outlines suggested by his collaborating ghostwriter Auguste Maquet.<br /><br />The story takes place in France, Italy, islands in the Mediterranean and the Levant during the historical events of 1815\u20131838 (from just before the Hundred Days through the reign of Louis-Philippe of France). The historical setting is a fundamental element of the book. It is primarily concerned with themes of justice, vengeance, mercy, and forgiveness, and is told in the style of an adventure story. (Summary from Wikipedia)<br /><br />\nThis book contains alternate versions of a number of chapters \u2013 indicated by an alt after the file number. The Zip files contain both versions of these chapters.<br /><br />There are 2 versions of the M4Bs made , one containing the original files for these chapters (4 parts), the other containing the alternate files for the chapters (5 parts).", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/1184", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1844", "num_sections": "128", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/47", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/count_monte_cristo_0711_librivox/count_monte_cristo_0711_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_of_Monte_Cristo", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/the-count-of-monte-cristo-by-alexandre-dumas/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "49:43:15", "totaltimesecs": 178995, "authors": [{"id": "431", "first_name": "Alexandre", "last_name": "Dumas", "dob": "1802", "dod": "1870"}], "genre": ["Literary Fiction", "Published 1800 -1900"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["count_of_monte_cristo_001_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_002_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_003_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_004_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_005_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_006_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_007_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_008_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_009_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_010_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_011_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_012_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_013_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_014_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_015_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_016_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_017_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_018_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_019_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_020_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_021_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_022_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_023_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_024_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_025_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_025alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_026_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_026alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_027_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_028_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_029_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_030_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_031_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_031alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_032_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_032alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_033_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_033alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_034a_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_034b_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_035_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_036_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_037_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_038_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_039_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_040_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_041_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_042_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_043_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_043alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_044_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_044alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_045_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_045alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_046_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_047_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_048_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_049_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_050_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_051_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_052_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_053_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_054_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_055_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_056_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_057_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_058_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_059_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_060_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_061_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_062_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_063_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_064_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_065_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_066_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_067_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_068_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_069_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_070_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_071_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_072_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_073a_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_073b_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_074_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_075_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_076_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_077_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_078_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_079_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_080_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_081_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_082_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_083_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_084_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_085_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_086_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_087_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_088_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_089_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_090_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_091_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_092_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_093_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_094_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_094alt_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_095_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_096_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_097_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_098_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_099_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_100_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_101_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_102_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_103_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_104_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_105_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_106_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_107_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_108_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_109_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_110_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_111_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_112_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_113_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_114_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_115_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_116_dumas", "count_of_monte_cristo_117_dumas"], "readers": [["14"], ["17"], ["17"], ["17"], ["32"], ["1474"], ["1474"], ["14"], ["688"], ["688"], ["36"], ["36"], ["37"], ["684"], ["38"], ["684"], ["40"], ["1851"], ["1988"], ["14"], ["14"], ["14"], ["1065"], ["41"], ["533"], ["5405"], ["533"], ["5405"], ["45"], ["36"], ["36"], ["1127"], ["533"], ["5405"], ["533"], ["5405"], ["533"], ["5405"], ["1474"], ["1474"], ["45"], ["1127"], ["49"], ["243"], ["243"], ["51"], ["45"], ["52"], ["533"], ["2607"], ["533"], ["2544"], ["533"], ["2297"], ["1224"], ["224"], ["1593"], ["54"], ["55"], ["55"], ["55"], ["56"], ["56"], ["56"], ["57"], ["58"], ["681"], ["681"], ["681"], ["54"], ["54"], ["58"], ["60"], ["61"], ["62"], ["90"], ["64"], ["64"], ["64"], ["65"], ["544"], ["2010"], ["2010"], ["1353"], ["251"], ["251"], ["251"], ["826"], ["697"], ["826"], ["1241"], ["66"], ["1266"], ["1241"], ["1241"], ["1241"], ["1241"], ["67"], ["26"], ["26"], ["26"], ["207"], ["207"], ["533"], ["2297"], ["64"], ["688"], ["688"], ["55"], ["1034"], ["1049"], ["1084"], ["84"], ["84"], ["125"], ["1593"], ["1874"], ["70"], ["697"], ["749"], ["70"], ["64"], ["64"], ["64"], ["1363"], ["482"], ["1053"], ["1593"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/57/61/twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb.json b/benchmark/57/61/twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b3eabdf08e407c75616498da755590278a32f6d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/57/61/twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "57/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "61/twentyyearsafter_0904_librivox_64kb_mp3/twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "61", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cYes, yes,", "start_byte": 193532, "end_byte": 193542, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 98.0049984741211, "cut_end_time": 99.62006097412109, "narration": {"text": " said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone.", "cut_start_time": 99.4949966430664, "cut_end_time": 105.4201216430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He ran to Porthos and threw himself into his arms; the whole body of servants, arranged in a semi-circle at a respectful distance, looked on with humble curiosity. Mousqueton, at the head of them, wiped his eyes. Porthos linked his arm in that of his friend.\n\n\u201cAh! how delightful to see you again, dear friend!\u201d he cried, in a voice which was now changed from a baritone into a bass, \u201cyou\u2019ve not then forgotten me?\u201d\n\n\u201cForget you! oh! dear Du Vallon, does one forget the happiest days of flowery youth, one\u2019s dearest friends, the dangers we have dared together? On the contrary, there is not an hour we have passed together that is not present to my memory.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, yes,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone. \u201cYes, we did some fine things in our time and we gave that poor cardinal a few threads to unravel.\u201d\n\nAnd he heaved a sigh.\n\n\u201cUnder any circumstances,\u201d he resumed, \u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cYes, we did some fine things in our time and we gave that poor cardinal a few threads to unravel.\u201d", "start_byte": 193640, "end_byte": 193739, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 105.59500061035156, "cut_end_time": 111.57000061035156, "narration": {"text": " said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone.", "cut_start_time": 99.4949966430664, "cut_end_time": 105.4201216430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh! how delightful to see you again, dear friend!\u201d he cried, in a voice which was now changed from a baritone into a bass, \u201cyou\u2019ve not then forgotten me?\u201d\n\n\u201cForget you! oh! dear Du Vallon, does one forget the happiest days of flowery youth, one\u2019s dearest friends, the dangers we have dared together? On the contrary, there is not an hour we have passed together that is not present to my memory.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone. <|quote_start|>\u201cYes, we did some fine things in our time and we gave that poor cardinal a few threads to unravel.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAnd he heaved a sigh.\n\n\u201cUnder any circumstances,\u201d he resumed, \u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cUnder any circumstances,", "start_byte": 193764, "end_byte": 193789, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 116.21499847412109, "cut_end_time": 118.00006097412108, "narration": {"text": " said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone.", "cut_start_time": 99.4949966430664, "cut_end_time": 105.4201216430664, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cForget you! oh! dear Du Vallon, does one forget the happiest days of flowery youth, one\u2019s dearest friends, the dangers we have dared together? On the contrary, there is not an hour we have passed together that is not present to my memory.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes,\u201d said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone. \u201cYes, we did some fine things in our time and we gave that poor cardinal a few threads to unravel.\u201d\n\nAnd he heaved a sigh.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cUnder any circumstances,\u201d<|quote_end|> he resumed, \u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.\n\n\u201cBut, first,\u201d interposed D\u2019Artagnan,", "narrative_information_pred": {"resumed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cBut, first,", "start_byte": 194185, "end_byte": 194197, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 143.53499755859374, "cut_end_time": 144.98012255859373, "narration": {"text": "A third sigh from Porthos.", "cut_start_time": 149.3349932861328, "cut_end_time": 152.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "And he heaved a sigh.\n\n\u201cUnder any circumstances,\u201d he resumed, \u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut, first,\u201d<|quote_end|> interposed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d\n\nA third sigh from Porthos.\n\n\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d he said, \u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"interposed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d", "start_byte": 194222, "end_byte": 194264, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 146.76500427246094, "cut_end_time": 148.76000427246092, "narration": {"text": "A third sigh from Porthos.", "cut_start_time": 149.3349932861328, "cut_end_time": 152.9801182861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.\n\n\u201cBut, first,\u201d interposed D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nA third sigh from Porthos.\n\n\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d he said, \u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"interposed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,", "start_byte": 194294, "end_byte": 194333, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 152.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 156.3500048828125, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.\n\n\u201cBut, first,\u201d interposed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d\n\nA third sigh from Porthos.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d<|quote_end|> he said, \u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, \u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d", "start_byte": 194344, "end_byte": 194638, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 157.52500061035155, "cut_end_time": 175.80000061035156, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cyou are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.\u201d\n\nAnd Porthos heaved another sigh.\n\n\u201cBut, first,\u201d interposed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d\n\nA third sigh from Porthos.\n\n\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d he said, <|quote_start|>\u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, \u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d", "start_byte": 194640, "end_byte": 194672, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 177.16499938964844, "cut_end_time": 179.10012438964844, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cyou must present me to Madame du Vallon.\u201d\n\nA third sigh from Porthos.\n\n\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d he said, \u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, \u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d", "start_byte": 194699, "end_byte": 194778, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 182.03499267578124, "cut_end_time": 186.78011767578124, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,\u201d he said, \u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me", "narrative_information_pred": {"groaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d", "start_byte": 194780, "end_byte": 194844, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 187.97500061035154, "cut_end_time": 191.25000061035155, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, \u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d", "start_byte": 194867, "end_byte": 194889, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 194.14499999999998, "cut_end_time": 196.0, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cand you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are free now, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d groaned Porthos, \u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; <|quote_start|>\u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d", "start_byte": 195120, "end_byte": 195145, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 211.34499694824217, "cut_end_time": 213.36012194824218, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cDevil take me!", "start_byte": 195147, "end_byte": 195162, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 214.3550018310547, "cut_end_time": 215.38000183105467, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDevil take me!\u201d<|quote_end|> answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d", "start_byte": 195185, "end_byte": 195238, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 216.83499755859376, "cut_end_time": 219.63012255859374, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos; \u201cmy air is excellent.\u201d\n\nThey went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d", "start_byte": 195264, "end_byte": 195409, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 222.50500549316405, "cut_end_time": 231.37006799316407, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "They went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos;", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.", "start_byte": 195411, "end_byte": 195465, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 232.50500183105467, "cut_end_time": 235.38000183105467, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "They went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthis is my usual style.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d<|quote_end|> said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d", "start_byte": 195485, "end_byte": 195553, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 236.98499267578126, "cut_end_time": 240.62005517578123, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDevil take me!\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d", "start_byte": 195555, "end_byte": 195580, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 241.51499877929686, "cut_end_time": 243.10012377929687, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d", "start_byte": 195582, "end_byte": 195653, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.74500244140626, "cut_end_time": 247.89000244140624, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cZounds! what a flavor!", "start_byte": 195655, "end_byte": 195678, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 248.68500610351563, "cut_end_time": 250.42006860351563, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d<|quote_end|> cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d", "start_byte": 195698, "end_byte": 195743, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 252.06500122070312, "cut_end_time": 254.7400012207031, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; <|quote_start|>\u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?", "start_byte": 195745, "end_byte": 195774, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 256.0749938964844, "cut_end_time": 257.8400563964844, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D\u2019Artagnan; \u2019tis off one of my sheep.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d<|quote_end|> asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d", "start_byte": 195791, "end_byte": 195818, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 259.34498657226567, "cut_end_time": 260.74004907226566, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; <|quote_start|>\u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d", "start_byte": 195832, "end_byte": 195884, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 262.8749938964844, "cut_end_time": 265.3400563964844, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d", "start_byte": 195897, "end_byte": 195981, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 267.2550085449219, "cut_end_time": 273.1400710449219, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me another cutlet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d", "start_byte": 195983, "end_byte": 196007, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 273.91500976562503, "cut_end_time": 276.22000976562504, "narration": {"text": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.", "cut_start_time": 276.67500732421877, "cut_end_time": 282.50000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds! what a flavor!\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you like my wine?\u201d asked Porthos; \u201cit is pleasant, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d", "start_byte": 196242, "end_byte": 196331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.07499633789064, "cut_end_time": 296.64012133789066, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d", "start_byte": 196333, "end_byte": 196371, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.4950036621094, "cut_end_time": 300.2600661621094, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d", "start_byte": 196373, "end_byte": 196437, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 300.1350036621094, "cut_end_time": 304.5800661621094, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cQuite a vineyard, hey?\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d", "start_byte": 196439, "end_byte": 196465, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 305.7250085449219, "cut_end_time": 307.0000710449219, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cMy dear fellow,", "start_byte": 196467, "end_byte": 196483, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 307.79500244140627, "cut_end_time": 309.0900024414063, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d", "start_byte": 196502, "end_byte": 196542, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 310.75501098632816, "cut_end_time": 313.14007348632816, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "Porthos sighed for the fifth time \u2014 D\u2019Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.\n\n\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d\n\nPorthos turned rather pale and drank off a large glass of wine.\n\n\u201cNo; but just think, there are paltry country squires who have all some title or another and pretend to go back as far as Charlemagne, or at least to Hugh Capet. When I first came here; being the last comer, it was for me to make the first advances. I made them, but you know, my dear friend, Madame du Vallon \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d", "start_byte": 196544, "end_byte": 196692, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 313.9850061035157, "cut_end_time": 325.45006860351566, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell now,\u201d he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d\n\nPorthos turned rather pale and drank off a large glass of wine.\n\n\u201cNo; but just think, there are paltry country squires who have all some title or another and pretend to go back as far as Charlemagne, or at least to Hugh Capet. When I first came here; being the last comer, it was for me to make the first advances. I made them, but you know, my dear friend, Madame du Vallon \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d", "start_byte": 196694, "end_byte": 196783, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 326.6950085449219, "cut_end_time": 332.3800710449219, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201cExcellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, family affairs, perhaps?\u201d\n\n\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d\n\nPorthos turned rather pale and drank off a large glass of wine.\n\n\u201cNo; but just think, there are paltry country squires who have all some title or another and pretend to go back as far as Charlemagne, or at least to Hugh Capet. When I first came here; being the last comer, it was for me to make the first advances. I made them, but you know, my dear friend, Madame du Vallon \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d", "start_byte": 196785, "end_byte": 196865, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 333.4050085449219, "cut_end_time": 337.5700085449219, "narration": {"text": " he said, \u201cit seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 284.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 290.61000732421877, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201cFamily! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what makes you sigh?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cto be candid with you, I am not happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods \u2014 you who have forty thousand francs a year \u2014 you \u2014 are \u2014 not \u2014 happy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSurrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos turned rather pale and drank off a large glass of wine.\n\n\u201cNo; but just think, there are paltry country squires who have all some title or another and pretend to go back as far as Charlemagne, or at least to Hugh Capet. When I first came here; being the last comer, it was for me to make the first advances. I made them, but you know, my dear friend, Madame du Vallon \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\nPorthos, in pronouncing these words, seemed to gulp down something.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cthat you are a widower, your wife\u2019s connection cannot injure you.\u201d", "start_byte": 197872, "end_byte": 197939, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 406.285, "cut_end_time": 409.4900625, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan smiled. He now saw where the breastplate was weak, and prepared the blow.", "cut_start_time": 399.27500122070313, "cut_end_time": 403.88006372070316, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame du Vallon was of doubtful gentility. She had, in her first marriage \u2014 I don\u2019t think, D\u2019Artagnan, I am telling you anything new \u2014 married a lawyer; they thought that \u2018nauseous;\u2019 you can understand that\u2019s a word bad enough to make one kill thirty thousand men. I have killed two, which has made people hold their tongues, but has not made me their friend. So that I have no society; I live alone; I am sick of it \u2014 my mind preys on itself.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan smiled. He now saw where the breastplate was weak, and prepared the blow.\n\n\u201cBut now,\u201d he said, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat you are a widower, your wife\u2019s connection cannot injure you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, but understand me; not being of a race of historic fame, like the De Courcys, who were content to be plain sirs, or the Rohans, who didn\u2019t wish to be dukes, all these people, who are all either vicomtes or comtes go before me at church in all the ceremonies, and I can say nothing to them. Ah! If I only were a \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cA baron, don\u2019t you mean?\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan, finishing his friend\u2019s sentence.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cA baron, don\u2019t you mean?", "start_byte": 198265, "end_byte": 198290, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 432.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 434.5801201171875, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan smiled. He now saw where the breastplate was weak, and prepared the blow.", "cut_start_time": 399.27500122070313, "cut_end_time": 403.88006372070316, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthat you are a widower, your wife\u2019s connection cannot injure you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but understand me; not being of a race of historic fame, like the De Courcys, who were content to be plain sirs, or the Rohans, who didn\u2019t wish to be dukes, all these people, who are all either vicomtes or comtes go before me at church in all the ceremonies, and I can say nothing to them. Ah! If I only were a \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cA baron, don\u2019t you mean?\u201d<|quote_end|> cried D\u2019Artagnan, finishing his friend\u2019s sentence.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cried Porthos; \u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d", "start_byte": 198365, "end_byte": 198392, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 440.1550134277344, "cut_end_time": 441.7700134277344, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, but understand me; not being of a race of historic fame, like the De Courcys, who were content to be plain sirs, or the Rohans, who didn\u2019t wish to be dukes, all these people, who are all either vicomtes or comtes go before me at church in all the ceremonies, and I can say nothing to them. Ah! If I only were a \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cA baron, don\u2019t you mean?\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan, finishing his friend\u2019s sentence.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cried Porthos; <|quote_start|>\u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos;", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d", "start_byte": 198394, "end_byte": 198478, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.464990234375, "cut_end_time": 447.04011523437504, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, but understand me; not being of a race of historic fame, like the De Courcys, who were content to be plain sirs, or the Rohans, who didn\u2019t wish to be dukes, all these people, who are all either vicomtes or comtes go before me at church in all the ceremonies, and I can say nothing to them. Ah! If I only were a \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cA baron, don\u2019t you mean?\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan, finishing his friend\u2019s sentence.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cried Porthos; \u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\u201cI am glad to see,", "start_byte": 198671, "end_byte": 198689, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 459.2049877929688, "cut_end_time": 460.38005029296875, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201d cried D\u2019Artagnan, finishing his friend\u2019s sentence.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cried Porthos; \u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d<|quote_end|> said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d", "start_byte": 198708, "end_byte": 198755, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 461.6350024414063, "cut_end_time": 463.68000244140626, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh!\u201d cried Porthos; \u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\u201cHe is my steward,", "start_byte": 198757, "end_byte": 198775, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 464.31498657226564, "cut_end_time": 465.62004907226566, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\u201cwould I were but a baron!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d", "start_byte": 198794, "end_byte": 198841, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 467.2850085449219, "cut_end_time": 470.8700085449219, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; <|quote_start|>\u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,", "start_byte": 198843, "end_byte": 198867, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 471.8249987792969, "cut_end_time": 473.2200612792969, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.\u201d\n\nPorthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d<|quote_end|> thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan,", "narrative_information_pred": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d", "start_byte": 198889, "end_byte": 198938, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 474.5250122070313, "cut_end_time": 476.95001220703125, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.\n\nPorthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; <|quote_start|>\u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d", "start_byte": 198963, "end_byte": 199148, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 479.5449987792969, "cut_end_time": 489.1401237792969, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "Porthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.\n\n\u201cI am glad to see,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat you have still that honest lad with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, <|quote_start|>\u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,", "start_byte": 199150, "end_byte": 199192, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 490.015009765625, "cut_end_time": 492.430009765625, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHe is my steward,\u201d replied Porthos; \u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d<|quote_end|> answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 58}, {"text": "\u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d", "start_byte": 199212, "end_byte": 199240, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 493.6350024414063, "cut_end_time": 495.24000244140626, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "\u201che will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo he\u2019s called Mouston,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "\u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d", "start_byte": 199267, "end_byte": 199486, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 498.4450036621094, "cut_end_time": 509.3700036621094, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan; \u201c\u2019tis too long a word to pronounce \u2018Mousqueton.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said aloud, \u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "\u201cMy friend,", "start_byte": 199488, "end_byte": 199499, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 510.38498657226563, "cut_end_time": 511.46004907226563, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_49.flac"}, "context": "\u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy friend,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_49.flac", "original_index": 62}, {"text": "\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d", "start_byte": 199518, "end_byte": 199739, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 513.2150219726562, "cut_end_time": 527.4700844726563, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_50.flac"}, "context": "\u201clet us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.\u201d\n\n\u201cDevil take them; let us walk in the park,\u201d answered Porthos, \u201cfor the sake of digestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_50.flac", "original_index": 63}, {"text": "\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d", "start_byte": 199741, "end_byte": 199768, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 527.865009765625, "cut_end_time": 530.1800097656251, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_51.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_51.flac", "original_index": 64}, {"text": "\u201cYes,", "start_byte": 199770, "end_byte": 199775, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 531.104970703125, "cut_end_time": 533.090033203125, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_52.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sigh": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_52.flac", "original_index": 65}, {"text": "\u201cit is amusing.\u201d", "start_byte": 199807, "end_byte": 199823, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 535.6349853515625, "cut_end_time": 536.9300478515626, "narration": {"text": "Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.", "cut_start_time": 447.9450146484375, "cut_end_time": 455.1900146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_53.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthe park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d replied Porthos, \u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, <|quote_start|>\u201cit is amusing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sigh": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_53.flac", "original_index": 66}, {"text": "\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?", "start_byte": 199893, "end_byte": 199929, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 541.8950268554688, "cut_end_time": 544.3200893554688, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_54.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d<|quote_end|> he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"resumed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_54.flac", "original_index": 67}, {"text": "\u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d", "start_byte": 199943, "end_byte": 199975, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 545.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 547.85008203125, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_55.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; <|quote_start|>\u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"resumed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_55.flac", "original_index": 68}, {"text": "\u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d", "start_byte": 200014, "end_byte": 200095, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 551.2250048828125, "cut_end_time": 555.9000048828125, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_56.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; <|quote_start|>\u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_56.flac", "original_index": 70}, {"text": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d", "start_byte": 200105, "end_byte": 200235, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 557.3349829101563, "cut_end_time": 564.2101079101562, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_57.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI leave fishing to Mousqueton, \u2014 it is a vulgar pleasure, \u2014 but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, how very amusing!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Porthos, with a sigh, \u201cit is amusing.\u201d\n\nD\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_57.flac", "original_index": 72}, {"text": "\u201cAh! hang it!", "start_byte": 200237, "end_byte": 200250, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 565.0950048828125, "cut_end_time": 566.3300673828126, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_58.flac"}, "context": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_58.flac", "original_index": 73}, {"text": "\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d", "start_byte": 200267, "end_byte": 200417, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 568.765029296875, "cut_end_time": 577.000029296875, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_59.flac"}, "context": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.\n\n\u201cHowever, what had you to say to me?\u201d he resumed; \u201clet us return to that subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_59.flac", "original_index": 74}, {"text": "\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,", "start_byte": 200419, "end_byte": 200457, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 578.2549877929688, "cut_end_time": 581.5700502929687, "narration": {"text": "D\u2019Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.", "cut_start_time": 537.7549731445313, "cut_end_time": 541.4900981445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_60.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cI must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d<|quote_end|> cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_60.flac", "original_index": 75}, {"text": "\u201cSo much the better.\u201d", "start_byte": 200519, "end_byte": 200540, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 585.554990234375, "cut_end_time": 586.590052734375, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_61.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo much the better.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_61.flac", "original_index": 76}, {"text": "\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d", "start_byte": 200542, "end_byte": 200569, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 587.7449853515625, "cut_end_time": 589.5100478515625, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_62.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_62.flac", "original_index": 77}, {"text": "\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d", "start_byte": 200571, "end_byte": 200590, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 590.0749877929687, "cut_end_time": 592.1500502929688, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_63.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_63.flac", "original_index": 78}, {"text": "\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d", "start_byte": 200592, "end_byte": 200607, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 592.2549731445313, "cut_end_time": 593.3400356445313, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_64.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_64.flac", "original_index": 79}, {"text": "\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d", "start_byte": 200609, "end_byte": 200640, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 594.0149755859376, "cut_end_time": 595.8101005859376, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_65.flac"}, "context": "\u201cGo into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_65.flac", "original_index": 80}, {"text": "\u201cNot in the least.\u201d", "start_byte": 200642, "end_byte": 200661, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 596.1850170898438, "cut_end_time": 597.5000795898437, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_66.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAh! hang it!\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNot in the least.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_66.flac", "original_index": 81}, {"text": "\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d", "start_byte": 200663, "end_byte": 200704, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 597.905009765625, "cut_end_time": 600.400009765625, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_67.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_67.flac", "original_index": 82}, {"text": "\u201cI am for no one.\u201d", "start_byte": 200706, "end_byte": 200724, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 601.0449926757813, "cut_end_time": 602.1100551757813, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_68.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI am for no one.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_68.flac", "original_index": 83}, {"text": "\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d", "start_byte": 200726, "end_byte": 200814, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 602.76498046875, "cut_end_time": 607.77004296875, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_69.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal\u2019s guards have so many proofs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my fist is strong enough I swear,\u201d cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.\n\n\u201cSo much the better.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre we then to go to war?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_69.flac", "original_index": 84}, {"text": "\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d", "start_byte": 200943, "end_byte": 200989, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 615.63498046875, "cut_end_time": 618.9401054687501, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_70.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBy my troth, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_70.flac", "original_index": 85}, {"text": "\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d", "start_byte": 200991, "end_byte": 201030, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 619.7250122070312, "cut_end_time": 621.6000122070312, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_71.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAre you a politician, friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_71.flac", "original_index": 86}, {"text": "\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d", "start_byte": 201032, "end_byte": 201061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 622.0549877929687, "cut_end_time": 624.0601127929688, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_72.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNot in the least.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_72.flac", "original_index": 87}, {"text": "\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d", "start_byte": 201063, "end_byte": 201094, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 624.4850244140625, "cut_end_time": 626.7300869140626, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_73.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAre you for Mazarin or for the princes?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_73.flac", "original_index": 88}, {"text": "\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d", "start_byte": 201096, "end_byte": 201245, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 627.6950170898438, "cut_end_time": 636.9800170898437, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_74.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI am for no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.\u201d\n\nThis speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_74.flac", "original_index": 89}, {"text": "\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d", "start_byte": 201247, "end_byte": 201283, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 637.97498046875, "cut_end_time": 639.90010546875, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_75.flac"}, "context": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_75.flac", "original_index": 90}, {"text": "\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d", "start_byte": 201285, "end_byte": 201341, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 640.5450244140625, "cut_end_time": 644.9700869140626, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_76.flac"}, "context": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.\n\n\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_76.flac", "original_index": 91}, {"text": "\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,", "start_byte": 201343, "end_byte": 201370, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 645.99501953125, "cut_end_time": 647.50008203125, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_77.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHo! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d<|quote_end|> said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_77.flac", "original_index": 92}, {"text": "\u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d", "start_byte": 201389, "end_byte": 201425, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 648.8249975585937, "cut_end_time": 650.7801225585938, "narration": {"text": "This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.", "cut_start_time": 608.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 614.9500356445312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_78.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHe wishes to have you in his service.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who spoke to him of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cRochefort \u2014 you remember him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_78.flac", "original_index": 93}, {"text": "\u201cYou say, then,", "start_byte": 201532, "end_byte": 201547, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 657.8950024414063, "cut_end_time": 659.0200649414063, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_79.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. <|quote_start|>\u201cYou say, then,\u201d<|quote_end|> he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_79.flac", "original_index": 94}, {"text": "\u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d", "start_byte": 201563, "end_byte": 201621, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 660.4750073242187, "cut_end_time": 663.9700698242187, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_80.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan;", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_80.flac", "original_index": 95}, {"text": "\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d", "start_byte": 201623, "end_byte": 201649, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 664.7750024414063, "cut_end_time": 666.5300649414063, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_81.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_81.flac", "original_index": 96}, {"text": "\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d", "start_byte": 201651, "end_byte": 201675, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 667.0550268554688, "cut_end_time": 668.7400268554687, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_82.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBut you know he is now our friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_82.flac", "original_index": 97}, {"text": "\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d", "start_byte": 201677, "end_byte": 201899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 669.5349951171876, "cut_end_time": 681.7100576171875, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_83.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Porthos,\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cIt is I who cherish no resentment.\u201d\n\nPorthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_83.flac", "original_index": 98}, {"text": "\u201cBut it seems to me,", "start_byte": 201901, "end_byte": 201921, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 682.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 683.9000405273438, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_84.flac"}, "context": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. \u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_84.flac", "original_index": 99}, {"text": "\u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d", "start_byte": 201937, "end_byte": 202008, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 685.4149951171876, "cut_end_time": 688.6500576171875, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_85.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou say, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_85.flac", "original_index": 100}, {"text": "\u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d", "start_byte": 202044, "end_byte": 202197, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 691.9949926757813, "cut_end_time": 699.9100551757813, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_86.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, and the queen, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen, do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; <|quote_start|>\u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_86.flac", "original_index": 102}, {"text": "\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,", "start_byte": 202199, "end_byte": 202228, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 700.7349975585938, "cut_end_time": 702.8800600585938, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_87.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d<|quote_end|> repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_87.flac", "original_index": 103}, {"text": "\u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d", "start_byte": 202248, "end_byte": 202288, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 704.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 707.7800146484375, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_88.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; <|quote_start|>\u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_88.flac", "original_index": 104}, {"text": "\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d", "start_byte": 202290, "end_byte": 202386, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 708.6749902343751, "cut_end_time": 713.600052734375, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_89.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTo inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin\u2019s hands that famous diamond \u2014 you remember all about it \u2014 that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don\u2019t know how, she has regained possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it seems to me,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_89.flac", "original_index": 105}, {"text": "\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d", "start_byte": 202388, "end_byte": 202453, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 714.455, "cut_end_time": 718.09, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_90.flac"}, "context": "\u201cthat she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_90.flac", "original_index": 106}, {"text": "\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d", "start_byte": 202455, "end_byte": 202604, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 718.79498046875, "cut_end_time": 726.37010546875, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_91.flac"}, "context": "\u201cSo I think,\u201d replied D\u2019Artagnan; \u201cbut kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_91.flac", "original_index": 107}, {"text": "\u201cEh! my friend,", "start_byte": 202638, "end_byte": 202653, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 729.795009765625, "cut_end_time": 730.850072265625, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_92.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, we are devoted to them,\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. <|quote_start|>\u201cEh! my friend,\u201d<|quote_end|> said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_92.flac", "original_index": 108}, {"text": "\u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d", "start_byte": 202664, "end_byte": 202820, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 732.1450268554688, "cut_end_time": 741.4500893554688, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_93.flac"}, "context": "\u201d repeated Porthos; \u201cand you \u2014 to whom are you devoted now?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, <|quote_start|>\u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_93.flac", "original_index": 109}, {"text": "\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,", "start_byte": 202822, "end_byte": 202864, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 742.1750268554688, "cut_end_time": 744.3000893554688, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_94.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?\u201d\n\n\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d<|quote_end|> thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_94.flac", "original_index": 110}, {"text": "\u201cAh, my friend,", "start_byte": 202886, "end_byte": 202901, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 746.0949926757813, "cut_end_time": 747.2200551757812, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_95.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. <|quote_start|>\u201cAh, my friend,\u201d<|quote_end|> said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_95.flac", "original_index": 111}, {"text": "\u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d", "start_byte": 202912, "end_byte": 202962, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 748.1950268554688, "cut_end_time": 750.4300268554688, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_96.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, <|quote_start|>\u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_96.flac", "original_index": 112}, {"text": "\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d", "start_byte": 202964, "end_byte": 202991, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 751.0249877929688, "cut_end_time": 752.6600502929688, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_97.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMagnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven\u2019t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.\u201d\n\nPorthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_97.flac", "original_index": 113}, {"text": "\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d", "start_byte": 202993, "end_byte": 203075, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 753.3149829101562, "cut_end_time": 757.7600454101563, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_98.flac"}, "context": "Porthos began to be suspicious. \u201cEh! my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_98.flac", "original_index": 114}, {"text": "\u201cAh! ah! ah!", "start_byte": 203077, "end_byte": 203089, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 758.085, "cut_end_time": 760.22, "narration": {"text": "Porthos didn\u2019t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point.", "cut_start_time": 651.6350073242188, "cut_end_time": 656.8500698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_99.flac"}, "context": "\u201cone never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_99.flac", "original_index": 115}, {"text": "\u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d", "start_byte": 203192, "end_byte": 203359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 766.74498046875, "cut_end_time": 776.99010546875, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_100.flac"}, "context": "\u201cHe is afraid I have come to borrow money,\u201d thought D\u2019Artagnan. \u201cAh, my friend,\u201d said he, \u201cit is all the better if you are in difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it all the better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes indeed,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_100.flac", "original_index": 117}, {"text": "\u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d", "start_byte": 203420, "end_byte": 203627, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 781.9350097656251, "cut_end_time": 792.160072265625, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_101.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, for his eminence will give you all that you want \u2014 land, money, and titles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! ah!\u201d said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.\n\n\u201cUnder the other cardinal,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes indeed,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_101.flac", "original_index": 119}, {"text": "\u201cYes indeed,", "start_byte": 203629, "end_byte": 203641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 792.7750146484375, "cut_end_time": 794.7800146484375, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_102.flac"}, "context": "\u201cwe didn\u2019t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn\u2019t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.\u201d\n\nPorthos sighed.\n\n\u201cAt the same time,\u201d continued D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes indeed,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos.\n\n\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_102.flac", "original_index": 120}, {"text": "\u201cFor my part,", "start_byte": 204030, "end_byte": 204043, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 819.0350268554688, "cut_end_time": 820.1900268554688, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_103.flac"}, "context": "\u201cnotwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes indeed,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFor my part,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_103.flac", "original_index": 122}, {"text": "\u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d", "start_byte": 204059, "end_byte": 204089, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 821.67498046875, "cut_end_time": 823.85004296875, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_104.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_104.flac", "original_index": 123}, {"text": "\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d", "start_byte": 204091, "end_byte": 204110, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 824.4149731445312, "cut_end_time": 825.4200356445313, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_105.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_105.flac", "original_index": 124}, {"text": "\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d", "start_byte": 204112, "end_byte": 204161, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 826.0949926757813, "cut_end_time": 828.6501176757813, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_106.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_106.flac", "original_index": 125}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d", "start_byte": 204163, "end_byte": 204189, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 829.0750268554688, "cut_end_time": 830.7900268554688, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_107.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_107.flac", "original_index": 126}, {"text": "\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d", "start_byte": 204191, "end_byte": 204231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 831.515, "cut_end_time": 834.2200625, "narration": {"text": " answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos,", "cut_start_time": 835.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 838.8200024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_108.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_108.flac", "original_index": 127}, {"text": "\u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d", "start_byte": 204303, "end_byte": 204430, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 839.2849951171876, "cut_end_time": 846.5901201171876, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_109.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, my dear friend, win it \u2014 it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other \u2014 your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly \u2014 at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"wished": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_109.flac", "original_index": 129}, {"text": "\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d", "start_byte": 204432, "end_byte": 204484, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 847.435029296875, "cut_end_time": 851.540091796875, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_110.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI desire to be made a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall be one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_110.flac", "original_index": 130}, {"text": "\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d", "start_byte": 204486, "end_byte": 204548, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 852.345009765625, "cut_end_time": 855.210009765625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_111.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd have you not seen any of our other friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen Aramis.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_111.flac", "original_index": 131}, {"text": "\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d", "start_byte": 204550, "end_byte": 204816, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 855.8949707031251, "cut_end_time": 874.770095703125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_112.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd what does he wish? To be a bishop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAramis,\u201d answered D\u2019Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, \u201cAramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, \u2014 did not even tempt him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_112.flac", "original_index": 132}, {"text": "\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d", "start_byte": 204818, "end_byte": 204865, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 876.3150195312501, "cut_end_time": 878.54001953125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_113.flac"}, "context": "\u201cSo much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_113.flac", "original_index": 133}, {"text": "\u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d", "start_byte": 204887, "end_byte": 204960, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 881.2050048828125, "cut_end_time": 884.7600048828125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_114.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, <|quote_start|>\u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_114.flac", "original_index": 135}, {"text": "\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d", "start_byte": 205045, "end_byte": 205182, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 894.0450146484375, "cut_end_time": 901.3600146484375, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_115.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_115.flac", "original_index": 137}, {"text": "\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,", "start_byte": 205184, "end_byte": 205220, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 902.1949829101562, "cut_end_time": 904.6501079101563, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_116.flac"}, "context": "\u201cNear Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities \u2014 the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_116.flac", "original_index": 138}, {"text": "\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,", "start_byte": 205240, "end_byte": 205278, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 906.5749780273437, "cut_end_time": 908.3400405273437, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_117.flac"}, "context": "\u201cAnd he has no children with all these titles?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Porthos, \u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d<|quote_end|> added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_117.flac", "original_index": 139}, {"text": "\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d", "start_byte": 205299, "end_byte": 205362, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 909.9149926757813, "cut_end_time": 914.4401176757813, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_118.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d cried Porthos.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_118.flac", "original_index": 140}, {"text": "\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d", "start_byte": 205364, "end_byte": 205479, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 915.2850048828125, "cut_end_time": 921.5700673828126, "narration": {"text": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?", "cut_start_time": 885.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 892.4600478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_119.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhat, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d cried Porthos. \u201cYou have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and low-spirited, that\u2019s all. At any rate, tell me: there\u2019s more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_119.flac", "original_index": 141}, {"text": "\u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d", "start_byte": 205553, "end_byte": 205690, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 927.1149877929688, "cut_end_time": 935.4801127929687, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_120.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I\u2019m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he used to drink a great deal,\u201d replied Porthos.\n\n\u201cAnd then he was older than any of us,\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; <|quote_start|>\u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d cried Porthos. \u201cYou have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and low-spirited, that\u2019s all. At any rate, tell me: there\u2019s more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_120.flac", "original_index": 143}, {"text": "\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d", "start_byte": 205692, "end_byte": 205732, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 936.1550219726563, "cut_end_time": 938.7200844726563, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_121.flac"}, "context": "\u201d added D\u2019Artagnan.\n\n\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d cried Porthos. \u201cYou have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and low-spirited, that\u2019s all. At any rate, tell me: there\u2019s more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_121.flac", "original_index": 144}, {"text": "\u201cSo much the better,", "start_byte": 205734, "end_byte": 205754, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 939.4850122070312, "cut_end_time": 940.7400747070312, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_122.flac"}, "context": "\u201cSome years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; \u201cbut we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child\u2019s play. Will it last long?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy\u2019r Lady! two or three years perhaps.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo much the better,\u201d<|quote_end|> cried Porthos. \u201cYou have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and low-spirited, that\u2019s all. At any rate, tell me: there\u2019s more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_122.flac", "original_index": 145}, {"text": "\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,", "start_byte": 206676, "end_byte": 206706, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 995.9749926757813, "cut_end_time": 998.3401176757812, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_123.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_123.flac", "original_index": 148}, {"text": "\u201cBesides which, in a short time,", "start_byte": 206723, "end_byte": 206755, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1000.495009765625, "cut_end_time": 1002.100009765625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_124.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d<|quote_end|> resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"resumed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_124.flac", "original_index": 149}, {"text": "\u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d", "start_byte": 206777, "end_byte": 206865, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1003.6249853515625, "cut_end_time": 1008.0100478515625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_125.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d\n\nOn this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend\u2019s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.\n\nChapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.", "narrative_information_pred": {"resumed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_125.flac", "original_index": 150}, {"text": "\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d", "start_byte": 206867, "end_byte": 206890, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1008.70498046875, "cut_end_time": 1010.76004296875, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_126.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d\n\nOn this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend\u2019s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.\n\nChapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_126.flac", "original_index": 151}, {"text": "\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d", "start_byte": 206892, "end_byte": 206917, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1011.6249951171875, "cut_end_time": 1013.1400576171875, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_127.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d\n\nOn this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend\u2019s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.\n\nChapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.\n\nAs they returned toward the castle, D\u2019Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_127.flac", "original_index": 152}, {"text": "\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d", "start_byte": 206998, "end_byte": 207028, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1019.2850244140625, "cut_end_time": 1022.7700244140625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_128.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIn that respect, my dear friend, it\u2019s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal\u2019s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I\u2019Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask \u2018Are you one of the Fronde?\u2019 They unsheathe, and that\u2019s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, things go on gaily, then,\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d\n\nOn this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend\u2019s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.\n\nChapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.\n\nAs they returned toward the castle, D\u2019Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_128.flac", "original_index": 154}, {"text": "\u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d", "start_byte": 207057, "end_byte": 207120, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1025.60494140625, "cut_end_time": 1028.75006640625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d", "cut_start_time": 1013.1449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.7400405273438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_129.flac"}, "context": "\u201d said Porthos.\n\n\u201cBesides which, in a short time,\u201d resumed D\u2019Artagnan, \u201cWe shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have your word, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, \u2019tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but \u2014 \u2014 \u201d\n\n\u201cBut?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he must make me a baron.\u201d\n\n\u201cZounds!\u201d said D\u2019Artagnan, <|quote_start|>\u201cthat\u2019s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nOn this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend\u2019s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.\n\nChapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.\n\nAs they returned toward the castle, D\u2019Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.\n\nIn the position of Porthos, D\u2019Artagnan would have been perfectly happy; and to make Porthos contented there was wanting \u2014 what? five letters to put before his three names, a tiny coronet to paint upon the panels of his carriage!", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/57.twentyyearsafter_11_dumas_64kb_129.flac", "original_index": 156}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/57/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/57/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..d7f04bef2eeef6bbfec778af5c66b320bda907d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/57/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,20187 @@
+Twenty Years After
+
+By Alexandre Dumas, Père
+
+Second Volume of the D’Artagnan Series
+
+LINKED INDEX OF PROJECT GUTENBERG VOLUMES:
+
+ORDER TITLE PG EBOOK# DATES VOLUME CHAPTERS 1 The Three Musketeers 1257 1625–1628 1 2 Twenty Years After 1259 1648–1649 2 3 The Vicomte de Bragelonne 2609 1660 3 1–75 4 Ten Years Later 2681 1660–1661 3 76–140 5 Louise de la Valliere 2710 1661 3 141–208 6 The Man in the Iron Mask 2759 1661–1673 3 209–269
+
+[Project Gutenberg eBook 1258 listed below, is of the same title as eBook 2681 and its contents overlap those of two other volumes: it includes all the chapters of eBook 2609 and the first 28 chapters of 2681]
+
+TITLE PG EBOOK# DATES VOLUME CHAPTERS Ten Years Later 1258 1660–1661 3 1–104
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Chapter I. The Shade of Cardinal Richelieu. Chapter II. A Nightly Patrol. Chapter III. Dead Animosities. Chapter IV. Anne of Austria at the Age of Forty-six. Chapter V. The Gascon and the Italian. Chapter VI. D’Artagnan in his Fortieth Year. Chapter VII. Touches upon the Strange Effects a Half-pistole may have. Chapter VIII. D’Artagnan, Going to a Distance to discover Aramis. Chapter IX. The Abbé D’Herblay. Chapter X. Monsieur Porthos du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds. Chapter XI. Wealth does not necessarily produce Happiness. Chapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition. Chapter XIII. Two Angelic Faces. Chapter XIV. The Castle of Bragelonne. Chapter XV. Athos as a Diplomatist. Chapter XVI. The Duc de Beaufort. Chapter XVII. Duc de Beaufort amused his Leisure Hours in the Donjon of Vincennes. Chapter XVIII. Grimaud begins his Functions. Chapter XIX. Pâtés made by the Successor of Father Marteau are described. Chapter XX. One of Marie Michon’s Adventures. Chapter XXI. The Abbé Scarron. Chapter XXII. Saint Denis. Chapter XXIII. One of the Forty Methods of Escape of the Duc de Beaufort. Chapter XXIV. The timely Arrival of D’Artagnan in Paris. Chapter XXV. An Adventure on the High Road. Chapter XXVI. The Rencontre. Chapter XXVII. The four old Friends prepare to meet again. Chapter XXVIII. The Place Royale. Chapter XXIX. The Ferry across the Oise. Chapter XXX. Skirmishing. Chapter XXXI. The Monk. Chapter XXXII. The Absolution. Chapter XXXIII. Grimaud Speaks. Chapter XXXIV. On the Eve of Battle. Chapter XXXV. A Dinner in the Old Style. Chapter XXXVI. A Letter from Charles the First. Chapter XXXVII. Cromwell’s Letter. Chapter XXXVIII. Henrietta Maria and Mazarin. Chapter XXXIX. How, sometimes, the Unhappy mistake Chance for Providence. Chapter XL. Uncle and Nephew. Chapter XLI. Paternal Affection. Chapter XLII. Another Queen in Want of Help. Chapter XLIII. In which it is proved that first Impulses are oftentimes the best. Chapter XLIV. Te Deum for the Victory of Lens. Chapter XLV. The Beggar of St. Eustache. Chapter XLVI. The Tower of St. Jacques de la Boucherie. Chapter XLVII. The Riot. Chapter XLVIII. The Riot becomes a Revolution. Chapter XLIX. Misfortune refreshes the Memory. Chapter L. The Interview. Chapter LI. The Flight. Chapter LII. The Carriage of Monsieur le Coadjuteur. Chapter LIII. How D’Artagnan and Porthos earned by selling Straw. Chapter LIV. In which we hear Tidings of Aramis. Chapter LV. The Scotchman. Chapter LVI. The Avenger. Chapter LVII. Oliver Cromwell. Chapter LVIII. Jesus Seigneur. Chapter LIX. Noble Natures never lose Courage, nor good Stomachs their Appetites. Chapter LX. Respect to Fallen Majesty. Chapter LXI. D’Artagnan hits on a Plan. Chapter LXII. London. Chapter LXIII. The Trial. Chapter LXIV. Whitehall. Chapter LXV. The Workmen. Chapter LXVI. Remember! Chapter LXVII. The Man in the Mask. Chapter LXVIII. Cromwell’s House. Chapter LXIX. Conversational. Chapter LXX. The Skiff “Lightning.” Chapter LXXI. Port Wine. Chapter LXXII. End of the Port Wine Mystery. Chapter LXXIII. Fatality. Chapter LXXIV. How Mousqueton had a Narrow Escape of being eaten. Chapter LXXV. The Return. Chapter LXXVI. The Ambassadors. Chapter LXXVII. The three Lieutenants of the Generalissimo. Chapter LXXVIII. The Battle of Charenton. Chapter LXXIX. The Road to Picardy. Chapter LXXX. The Gratitude of Anne of Austria. Chapter LXXXI. Cardinal Mazarin as King. Chapter LXXXII. Precautions. Chapter LXXXIII. Strength and Sagacity. Chapter LXXXIV. Strength and Sagacity — Continued. Chapter LXXXV. The Oubliettes of Cardinal Mazarin. Chapter LXXXVI. Conferences. Chapter LXXXVII. Thinking that Porthos will be at last a Baron, and D’Artagnan a Captain. Chapter LXXXVIII. Shows how with Threat and Pen more is effected than by the Sword. Chapter LXXXIX. Difficult for Kings to return to the Capitals of their Kingdoms. Chapter XC. Conclusion.
+
+Chapter I. The Shade of Cardinal Richelieu.
+
+In a splendid chamber of the Palais Royal, formerly styled the Palais Cardinal, a man was sitting in deep reverie, his head supported on his hands, leaning over a gilt and inlaid table which was covered with letters and papers. Behind this figure glowed a vast fireplace alive with leaping flames; great logs of oak blazed and crackled on the polished brass andirons whose flicker shone upon the superb habiliments of the lonely tenant of the room, which was illumined grandly by twin candelabra rich with wax-lights.
+
+Any one who happened at that moment to contemplate that red simar — the gorgeous robe of office — and the rich lace, or who gazed on that pale brow, bent in anxious meditation, might, in the solitude of that apartment, combined with the silence of the ante-chambers and the measured paces of the guards upon the landing-place, have fancied that the shade of Cardinal Richelieu lingered still in his accustomed haunt.
+
+It was, alas! the ghost of former greatness. France enfeebled, the authority of her sovereign contemned, her nobles returning to their former turbulence and insolence, her enemies within her frontiers — all proved the great Richelieu no longer in existence.
+
+In truth, that the red simar which occupied the wonted place was his no longer, was still more strikingly obvious from the isolation which seemed, as we have observed, more appropriate to a phantom than a living creature — from the corridors deserted by courtiers, and courts crowded with guards — from that spirit of bitter ridicule, which, arising from the streets below, penetrated through the very casements of the room, which resounded with the murmurs of a whole city leagued against the minister; as well as from the distant and incessant sounds of guns firing — let off, happily, without other end or aim, except to show to the guards, the Swiss troops and the military who surrounded the Palais Royal, that the people were possessed of arms.
+
+The shade of Richelieu was Mazarin. Now Mazarin was alone and defenceless, as he well knew.
+
+“Foreigner!” he ejaculated, “Italian! that is their mean yet mighty byword of reproach — the watchword with which they assassinated, hanged, and made away with Concini; and if I gave them their way they would assassinate, hang, and make away with me in the same manner, although they have nothing to complain of except a tax or two now and then. Idiots! ignorant of their real enemies, they do not perceive that it is not the Italian who speaks French badly, but those who can say fine things to them in the purest Parisian accent, who are their real foes.
+
+“Yes, yes,” Mazarin continued, whilst his wonted smile, full of subtlety, lent a strange expression to his pale lips; “yes, these noises prove to me, indeed, that the destiny of favorites is precarious; but ye shall know I am no ordinary favorite. No! The Earl of Essex, ’tis true, wore a splendid ring, set with diamonds, given him by his royal mistress, whilst I — I have nothing but a simple circlet of gold, with a cipher on it and a date; but that ring has been blessed in the chapel of the Palais Royal,* so they will never ruin me, as they long to do, and whilst they shout, ‘Down with Mazarin!’ I, unknown, and unperceived by them, incite them to cry out, ‘Long live the Duke de Beaufort’ one day; another, ‘Long live the Prince de Conde;’ and again, ‘Long live the parliament!’” And at this word the smile on the cardinal’s lips assumed an expression of hatred, of which his mild countenance seemed incapable. “The parliament! We shall soon see how to dispose,” he continued, “of the parliament! Both Orleans and Montargis are ours. It will be a work of time, but those who have begun by crying out: Down with Mazarin! will finish by shouting out, Down with all the people I have mentioned, each in his turn.
+
+* It is said that Mazarin, who, though a cardinal, had not taken such vows as to prevent it, was secretly married to Anne of Austria. — La Porte’s Memoirs.
+
+“Richelieu, whom they hated during his lifetime and whom they now praise after his death, was even less popular than I am. Often he was driven away, oftener still had he a dread of being sent away. The queen will never banish me, and even were I obliged to yield to the populace she would yield with me; if I fly, she will fly; and then we shall see how the rebels will get on without either king or queen.
+
+“Oh, were I not a foreigner! were I but a Frenchman! were I but of gentle birth!”
+
+The position of the cardinal was indeed critical, and recent events had added to his difficulties. Discontent had long pervaded the lower ranks of society in France. Crushed and impoverished by taxation — imposed by Mazarin, whose avarice impelled him to grind them down to the very dust — the people, as the Advocate-General Talon described it, had nothing left to them except their souls; and as those could not be sold by auction, they began to murmur. Patience had in vain been recommended to them by reports of brilliant victories gained by France; laurels, however, were not meat and drink, and the people had for some time been in a state of discontent.
+
+Had this been all, it might not, perhaps, have greatly signified; for when the lower classes alone complained, the court of France, separated as it was from the poor by the intervening classes of the gentry and the bourgeoisie, seldom listened to their voice; but unluckily, Mazarin had had the imprudence to attack the magistrates and had sold no less than twelve appointments in the Court of Requests, at a high price; and as the officers of that court paid very dearly for their places, and as the addition of twelve new colleagues would necessarily lower the value of each place, the old functionaries formed a union amongst themselves, and, enraged, swore on the Bible not to allow of this addition to their number, but to resist all the persecutions which might ensue; and should any one of them chance to forfeit his post by this resistance, to combine to indemnify him for his loss.
+
+Now the following occurrences had taken place between the two contending parties.
+
+On the seventh of January between seven and eight hundred tradesmen had assembled in Paris to discuss a new tax which was to be levied on house property. They deputed ten of their number to wait upon the Duke of Orleans, who, according to his custom, affected popularity. The duke received them and they informed him that they were resolved not to pay this tax, even if they were obliged to defend themselves against its collectors by force of arms. They were listened to with great politeness by the duke, who held out hopes of easier measures, promised to speak in their behalf to the queen, and dismissed them with the ordinary expression of royalty, “We will see what we can do.”
+
+Two days afterward these same magistrates appeared before the cardinal and their spokesman addressed Mazarin with so much fearlessness and determination that the minister was astounded and sent the deputation away with the same answer as it had received from the Duke of Orleans — that he would see what could be done; and in accordance with that intention a council of state was assembled and the superintendent of finance was summoned.
+
+This man, named Emery, was the object of popular detestation, in the first place because he was superintendent of finance, and every superintendent of finance deserved to be hated; in the second place, because he rather deserved the odium which he had incurred.
+
+He was the son of a banker at Lyons named Particelli, who, after becoming a bankrupt, chose to change his name to Emery; and Cardinal Richelieu having discovered in him great financial aptitude, had introduced him with a strong recommendation to Louis XIII. under his assumed name, in order that he might be appointed to the post he subsequently held.
+
+“You surprise me!” exclaimed the monarch. “I am rejoiced to hear you speak of Monsieur d’Emery as calculated for a post which requires a man of probity. I was really afraid that you were going to force that villain Particelli upon me.”
+
+“Sire,” replied Richelieu, “rest assured that Particelli, the man to whom your majesty refers, has been hanged.”
+
+“Ah; so much the better!” exclaimed the king. “It is not for nothing that I am styled Louis the Just,” and he signed Emery’s appointment.
+
+This was the same Emery who became eventually superintendent of finance.
+
+He was sent for by the ministers and he came before them pale and trembling, declaring that his son had very nearly been assassinated the day before, near the palace. The mob had insulted him on account of the ostentatious luxury of his wife, whose house was hung with red velvet edged with gold fringe. This lady was the daughter of Nicholas de Camus, who arrived in Paris with twenty francs in his pocket, became secretary of state, and accumulated wealth enough to divide nine millions of francs among his children and to keep an income of forty thousand for himself.
+
+The fact was that Emery’s son had run a great chance of being suffocated, one of the rioters having proposed to squeeze him until he gave up all the gold he had swallowed. Nothing, therefore, was settled that day, as Emery’s head was not steady enough for business after such an occurrence.
+
+On the next day Mathieu Molé, the chief president, whose courage at this crisis, says the Cardinal de Retz, was equal to that of the Duc de Beaufort and the Prince de Condé — in other words, of the two men who were considered the bravest in France — had been attacked in his turn. The people threatened to hold him responsible for the evils that hung over them. But the chief president had replied with his habitual coolness, without betraying either disturbance or surprise, that should the agitators refuse obedience to the king’s wishes he would have gallows erected in the public squares and proceed at once to hang the most active among them. To which the others had responded that they would be glad to see the gallows erected; they would serve for the hanging of those detestable judges who purchased favor at court at the price of the people’s misery.
+
+Nor was this all. On the eleventh the queen in going to mass at Notre Dame, as she always did on Saturdays, was followed by more than two hundred women demanding justice. These poor creatures had no bad intentions. They wished only to be allowed to fall on their knees before their sovereign, and that they might move her to compassion; but they were prevented by the royal guard and the queen proceeded on her way, haughtily disdainful of their entreaties.
+
+At length parliament was convoked; the authority of the king was to be maintained.
+
+One day — it was the morning of the day my story begins — the king, Louis XIV., then ten years of age, went in state, under pretext of returning thanks for his recovery from the small-pox, to Notre Dame. He took the opportunity of calling out his guard, the Swiss troops and the musketeers, and he had planted them round the Palais Royal, on the quays, and on the Pont Neuf. After mass the young monarch drove to the Parliament House, where, upon the throne, he hastily confirmed not only such edicts as he had already passed, but issued new ones, each one, according to Cardinal de Retz, more ruinous than the others — a proceeding which drew forth a strong remonstrance from the chief president, Molé — whilst President Blancmesnil and Councillor Broussel raised their voices in indignation against fresh taxes.
+
+The king returned amidst the silence of a vast multitude to the Palais Royal. All minds were uneasy, most were foreboding, many of the people used threatening language.
+
+At first, indeed, they were doubtful whether the king’s visit to the parliament had been in order to lighten or increase their burdens; but scarcely was it known that the taxes were to be still further increased, when cries of “Down with Mazarin!” “Long live Broussel!” “Long live Blancmesnil!” resounded through the city. For the people had learned that Broussel and Blancmesnil had made speeches in their behalf, and, although the eloquence of these deputies had been without avail, it had none the less won for them the people’s good-will. All attempts to disperse the groups collected in the streets, or silence their exclamations, were in vain. Orders had just been given to the royal guards and the Swiss guards, not only to stand firm, but to send out patrols to the streets of Saint Denis and Saint Martin, where the people thronged and where they were the most vociferous, when the mayor of Paris was announced at the Palais Royal.
+
+He was shown in directly; he came to say that if these offensive precautions were not discontinued, in two hours Paris would be under arms.
+
+Deliberations were being held when a lieutenant in the guards, named Comminges, made his appearance, with his clothes all torn, his face streaming with blood. The queen on seeing him uttered a cry of surprise and asked him what was going on.
+
+As the mayor had foreseen, the sight of the guards had exasperated the mob. The tocsin was sounded. Comminges had arrested one of the ringleaders and had ordered him to be hanged near the cross of Du Trahoir; but in attempting to execute this command the soldiery were attacked in the market-place with stones and halberds; the delinquent had escaped to the Rue des Lombards and rushed into a house. They broke open the doors and searched the dwelling, but in vain. Comminges, wounded by a stone which had struck him on the forehead, had left a picket in the street and returned to the Palais Royal, followed by a menacing crowd, to tell his story.
+
+This account confirmed that of the mayor. The authorities were not in a condition to cope with serious revolt. Mazarin endeavored to circulate among the people a report that troops had only been stationed on the quays and on the Pont Neuf, on account of the ceremonial of the day, and that they would soon withdraw. In fact, about four o’clock they were all concentrated about the Palais Royal, the courts and ground floors of which were filled with musketeers and Swiss guards, and there awaited the outcome of all this disturbance.
+
+Such was the state of affairs at the very moment we introduced our readers to the study of Cardinal Mazarin — once that of Cardinal Richelieu. We have seen in what state of mind he listened to the murmurs from below, which even reached him in his seclusion, and to the guns, the firing of which resounded through that room. All at once he raised his head; his brow slightly contracted like that of a man who has formed a resolution; he fixed his eyes upon an enormous clock that was about to strike ten, and taking up a whistle of silver gilt that stood upon the table near him, he shrilled it twice.
+
+A door hidden in the tapestry opened noiselessly and a man in black silently advanced and stood behind the chair on which Mazarin sat.
+
+“Bernouin,” said the cardinal, not turning round, for having whistled, he knew that it was his valet-de-chambre who was behind him; “what musketeers are now within the palace?”
+
+“The Black Musketeers, my lord.”
+
+“What company?”
+
+“Tréville’s company.”
+
+“Is there any officer belonging to this company in the ante-chamber?”
+
+“Lieutenant d’Artagnan.”
+
+“A man on whom we can depend, I hope.”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Give me a uniform of one of these musketeers and help me to put it on.”
+
+The valet went out as silently as he had entered and appeared in a few minutes bringing the dress demanded.
+
+The cardinal, in deep thought and in silence, began to take off the robes of state he had assumed in order to be present at the sitting of parliament, and to attire himself in the military coat, which he wore with a certain degree of easy grace, owing to his former campaigns in Italy. When he was completely dressed he said:
+
+“Send hither Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+The valet went out of the room, this time by the centre door, but still as silently as before; one might have fancied him an apparition.
+
+When he was left alone the cardinal looked at himself in the glass with a feeling of self-satisfaction. Still young — for he was scarcely forty-six years of age — he possessed great elegance of form and was above the middle height; his complexion was brilliant and beautiful; his glance full of expression; his nose, though large, was well proportioned; his forehead broad and majestic; his hair, of a chestnut color, was curled slightly; his beard, which was darker than his hair, was turned carefully with a curling iron, a practice that greatly improved it. After a short time the cardinal arranged his shoulder belt, then looked with great complacency at his hands, which were most elegant and of which he took the greatest care; and throwing on one side the large kid gloves tried on at first, as belonging to the uniform, he put on others of silk only. At this instant the door opened.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the valet-de-chambre.
+
+An officer, as he spoke, entered the apartment. He was a man between thirty-nine and forty years of age, of medium height but a very well proportioned figure; with an intellectual and animated physiognomy; his beard black, and his hair turning gray, as often happens when people have found life either too gay or too sad, more especially when they happen to be of swart complexion.
+
+D’Artagnan advanced a few steps into the apartment.
+
+How perfectly he remembered his former entrance into that very room! Seeing, however, no one there except a musketeer of his own troop, he fixed his eyes upon the supposed soldier, in whose dress, nevertheless, he recognized at the first glance the cardinal.
+
+The lieutenant remained standing in a dignified but respectful posture, such as became a man of good birth, who had in the course of his life been frequently in the society of the highest nobles.
+
+The cardinal looked at him with a cunning rather than serious glance, yet he examined his countenance with attention and after a momentary silence said:
+
+“You are Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
+
+“I am that individual,” replied the officer.
+
+Mazarin gazed once more at a countenance full of intelligence, the play of which had been, nevertheless, subdued by age and experience; and D’Artagnan received the penetrating glance like one who had formerly sustained many a searching look, very different, indeed, from those which were inquiringly directed on him at that instant.
+
+“Sir,” resumed the cardinal, “you are to come with me, or rather, I am to go with you.”
+
+“I am at your command, my lord,” returned D’Artagnan.
+
+“I wish to visit in person the outposts which surround the Palais Royal; do you suppose that there is any danger in so doing?”
+
+“Danger, my lord!” exclaimed D’Artagnan with a look of astonishment, “what danger?”
+
+“I am told that there is a general insurrection.”
+
+“The uniform of the king’s musketeers carries a certain respect with it, and even if that were not the case I would engage with four of my men to put to flight a hundred of these clowns.”
+
+“Did you witness the injury sustained by Comminges?”
+
+“Monsieur de Comminges is in the guards and not in the musketeers — — ”
+
+“Which means, I suppose, that the musketeers are better soldiers than the guards.” The cardinal smiled as he spoke.
+
+“Every one likes his own uniform best, my lord.”
+
+“Myself excepted,” and again Mazarin smiled; “for you perceive that I have left off mine and put on yours.”
+
+“Lord bless us! this is modesty indeed!” cried D’Artagnan. “Had I such a uniform as your eminence possesses, I protest I should be mightily content, and I would take an oath never to wear any other costume — — ”
+
+“Yes, but for to-night’s adventure I don’t suppose my dress would have been a very safe one. Give me my felt hat, Bernouin.”
+
+The valet instantly brought to his master a regimental hat with a wide brim. The cardinal put it on in military style.
+
+“Your horses are ready saddled in their stables, are they not?” he said, turning to D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Well, let us set out.”
+
+“How many men does your eminence wish to escort you?”
+
+“You say that with four men you will undertake to disperse a hundred low fellows; as it may happen that we shall have to encounter two hundred, take eight — — ”
+
+“As many as my lord wishes.”
+
+“I will follow you. This way — light us downstairs Bernouin.”
+
+The valet held a wax-light; the cardinal took a key from his bureau and opening the door of a secret stair descended into the court of the Palais Royal.
+
+Chapter II. A Nightly Patrol.
+
+In ten minutes Mazarin and his party were traversing the street “Les Bons Enfants” behind the theatre built by Richelieu expressly for the play of “Mirame,” and in which Mazarin, who was an amateur of music, but not of literature, had introduced into France the first opera that was ever acted in that country.
+
+The appearance of the town denoted the greatest agitation. Numberless groups paraded the streets and, whatever D’Artagnan might think of it, it was obvious that the citizens had for the night laid aside their usual forbearance, in order to assume a warlike aspect. From time to time noises came in the direction of the public markets. The report of firearms was heard near the Rue Saint Denis and occasionally church bells began to ring indiscriminately and at the caprice of the populace. D’Artagnan, meantime, pursued his way with the indifference of a man upon whom such acts of folly made no impression. When he approached a group in the middle of the street he urged his horse upon it without a word of warning; and the members of the group, whether rebels or not, as if they knew with what sort of a man they had to deal, at once gave place to the patrol. The cardinal envied that composure, which he attributed to the habit of meeting danger; but none the less he conceived for the officer under whose orders he had for the moment placed himself, that consideration which even prudence pays to careless courage. On approaching an outpost near the Barriere des Sergens, the sentinel cried out, “Who’s there?” and D’Artagnan answered — having first asked the word of the cardinal — “Louis and Rocroy.” After which he inquired if Lieutenant Comminges were not the commanding officer at the outpost. The soldier replied by pointing out to him an officer who was conversing, on foot, his hand upon the neck of a horse on which the individual to whom he was talking sat. Here was the officer D’Artagnan was seeking.
+
+“Here is Monsieur Comminges,” said D’Artagnan, returning to the cardinal. He instantly retired, from a feeling of respectful delicacy; it was, however, evident that the cardinal was recognized by both Comminges and the other officers on horseback.
+
+“Well done, Guitant,” cried the cardinal to the equestrian; “I see plainly that, notwithstanding the sixty-four years that have passed over your head, you are still the same man, active and zealous. What were you saying to this youngster?”
+
+“My lord,” replied Guitant, “I was observing that we live in troublous times and that to-day’s events are very like those in the days of the Ligue, of which I heard so much in my youth. Are you aware that the mob have even suggested throwing up barricades in the Rue Saint Denis and the Rue Saint Antoine?”
+
+“And what was Comminges saying to you in reply, my good Guitant?”
+
+“My lord,” said Comminges, “I answered that to compose a Ligue only one ingredient was wanting — in my opinion an essential one — a Duc de Guise; moreover, no generation ever does the same thing twice.”
+
+“No, but they mean to make a Fronde, as they call it,” said Guitant.
+
+“And what is a Fronde?” inquired Mazarin.
+
+“My lord, Fronde is the name the discontented give to their party.”
+
+“And what is the origin of this name?”
+
+“It seems that some days since Councillor Bachaumont remarked at the palace that rebels and agitators reminded him of schoolboys slinging — qui frondent — stones from the moats round Paris, young urchins who run off the moment the constable appears, only to return to their diversion the instant his back is turned. So they have picked up the word and the insurrectionists are called ‘Frondeurs,’ and yesterday every article sold was ‘a la Fronde;’ bread ‘a la Fronde,’ hats ‘a la Fronde,’ to say nothing of gloves, pocket-handkerchiefs, and fans; but listen — — ”
+
+At that moment a window opened and a man began to sing:
+
+“A tempest from the Fronde Did blow to-day: I think ’twill blow Sieur Mazarin away.”
+
+“Insolent wretch!” cried Guitant.
+
+“My lord,” said Comminges, who, irritated by his wounds, wished for revenge and longed to give back blow for blow, “shall I fire off a ball to punish that jester, and to warn him not to sing so much out of tune in the future?”
+
+And as he spoke he put his hand on the holster of his uncle’s saddle-bow.
+
+“Certainly not! certainly not,” exclaimed Mazarin. “Diavolo! my dear friend, you are going to spoil everything — everything is going on famously. I know the French as well as if I had made them myself. They sing — let them pay the piper. During the Ligue, about which Guitant was speaking just now, the people chanted nothing except the mass, so everything went to destruction. Come, Guitant, come along, and let’s see if they keep watch at the Quinze-Vingts as at the Barriere des Sergens.”
+
+And waving his hand to Comminges he rejoined D’Artagnan, who instantly put himself at the head of his troop, followed by the cardinal, Guitant and the rest of the escort.
+
+“Just so,” muttered Comminges, looking after Mazarin. “True, I forgot; provided he can get money out of the people, that is all he wants.”
+
+The street of Saint Honore, when the cardinal and his party passed through it, was crowded by an assemblage who, standing in groups, discussed the edicts of that memorable day. They pitied the young king, who was unconsciously ruining his country, and threw all the odium of his proceedings on Mazarin. Addresses to the Duke of Orleans and to Condé were suggested. Blancmesnil and Broussel seemed in the highest favor.
+
+D’Artagnan passed through the very midst of this discontented mob just as if his horse and he had been made of iron. Mazarin and Guitant conversed together in whispers. The musketeers, who had already discovered who Mazarin was, followed in profound silence. In the street of Saint Thomas-du-Louvre they stopped at the barrier distinguished by the name of Quinze-Vingts. Here Guitant spoke to one of the subalterns, asking how matters were progressing.
+
+“Ah, captain!” said the officer, “everything is quiet hereabout — if I did not know that something is going on in yonder house!”
+
+And he pointed to a magnificent hotel situated on the very spot whereon the Vaudeville now stands.
+
+“In that hotel? it is the Hotel Rambouillet,” cried Guitant.
+
+“I really don’t know what hotel it is; all I do know is that I observed some suspicious looking people go in there — — ”
+
+“Nonsense!” exclaimed Guitant, with a burst of laughter; “those men must be poets.”
+
+“Come, Guitant, speak, if you please, respectfully of these gentlemen,” said Mazarin; “don’t you know that I was in my youth a poet? I wrote verses in the style of Benserade — — ”
+
+“You, my lord?”
+
+“Yes, I; shall I repeat to you some of my verses?”
+
+“Just as you please, my lord. I do not understand Italian.”
+
+“Yes, but you understand French,” and Mazarin laid his hand upon Guitant’s shoulder. “My good, my brave Guitant, whatsoever command I may give you in that language — in French — whatever I may order you to do, will you not perform it?”
+
+“Certainly. I have already answered that question in the affirmative; but that command must come from the queen herself.”
+
+“Yes! ah yes!” Mazarin bit his lips as he spoke; “I know your devotion to her majesty.”
+
+“I have been a captain in the queen’s guards for twenty years,” was the reply.
+
+“En route, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal; “all goes well in this direction.”
+
+D’Artagnan, in the meantime, had taken the head of his detachment without a word and with that ready and profound obedience which marks the character of an old soldier.
+
+He led the way toward the hill of Saint Roche. The Rue Richelieu and the Rue Villedot were then, owing to their vicinity to the ramparts, less frequented than any others in that direction, for the town was thinly inhabited thereabout.
+
+“Who is in command here?” asked the cardinal.
+
+“Villequier,” said Guitant.
+
+“Diavolo! Speak to him yourself, for ever since you were deputed by me to arrest the Duc de Beaufort, this officer and I have been on bad terms. He laid claim to that honor as captain of the royal guards.”
+
+“I am aware of that, and I have told him a hundred times that he was wrong. The king could not give that order, since at that time he was hardly four years old.”
+
+“Yes, but I could give him the order — I, Guitant — and I preferred to give it to you.”
+
+Guitant, without reply, rode forward and desired the sentinel to call Monsieur de Villequier.
+
+“Ah! so you are here!” cried the officer, in the tone of ill-humor habitual to him; “what the devil are you doing here?”
+
+“I wish to know — can you tell me, pray — is anything fresh occurring in this part of the town?”
+
+“What do you mean? People cry out, ‘Long live the king! down with Mazarin!’ That’s nothing new; no, we’ve been used to those acclamations for some time.”
+
+“And you sing chorus,” replied Guitant, laughing.
+
+“Faith, I’ve half a mind to do it. In my opinion the people are right; and cheerfully would I give up five years of my pay — which I am never paid, by the way — to make the king five years older.”
+
+“Really! And pray what would come to pass, supposing the king were five years older than he is?”
+
+“As soon as ever the king comes of age he will issue his commands himself, and ’tis far pleasanter to obey the grandson of Henry IV. than the son of Peter Mazarin. ‘Sdeath! I would die willingly for the king, but supposing I happened to be killed on account of Mazarin, as your nephew came near being to-day, there could be nothing in Paradise, however well placed I might be there, that could console me for it.”
+
+“Well, well, Monsieur de Villequier,” Mazarin interposed, “I shall make it my care the king hears of your loyalty. Come, gentlemen,” addressing the troop, “let us return.”
+
+“Stop,” exclaimed Villequier, “so Mazarin was here! so much the better. I have been waiting for a long time to tell him what I think of him. I am obliged to you Guitant, although your intention was perhaps not very favorable to me, for such an opportunity.”
+
+He turned away and went off to his post, whistling a tune then popular among the party called the “Fronde,” whilst Mazarin returned, in a pensive mood, toward the Palais Royal. All that he had heard from these three different men, Comminges, Guitant and Villequier, confirmed him in his conviction that in case of serious tumults there would be no one on his side except the queen; and then Anne of Austria had so often deserted her friends that her support seemed most precarious. During the whole of this nocturnal ride, during the whole time that he was endeavoring to understand the various characters of Comminges, Guitant and Villequier, Mazarin was, in truth, studying more especially one man. This man, who had remained immovable as bronze when menaced by the mob — not a muscle of whose face was stirred, either at Mazarin’s witticisms or by the jests of the multitude — seemed to the cardinal a peculiar being, who, having participated in past events similar to those now occurring, was calculated to cope with those now on the eve of taking place.
+
+The name of D’Artagnan was not altogether new to Mazarin, who, although he did not arrive in France before the year 1634 or 1635, that is to say, about eight or nine years after the events which we have related in a preceding narrative, * fancied he had heard it pronounced as that of one who was said to be a model of courage, address and loyalty.
+
+* “The Three Musketeers.”
+
+Possessed by this idea, the cardinal resolved to know all about D’Artagnan immediately; of course he could not inquire from D’Artagnan himself who he was and what had been his career; he remarked, however, in the course of conversation that the lieutenant of musketeers spoke with a Gascon accent. Now the Italians and the Gascons are too much alike and know each other too well ever to trust what any one of them may say of himself; so in reaching the walls which surrounded the Palais Royal, the cardinal knocked at a little door, and after thanking D’Artagnan and requesting him to wait in the court of the Palais Royal, he made a sign to Guitant to follow him.
+
+They both dismounted, consigned their horses to the lackey who had opened the door, and disappeared in the garden.
+
+“My dear friend,” said the cardinal, leaning, as they walked through the garden, on his friend’s arm, “you told me just now that you had been twenty years in the queen’s service.”
+
+“Yes, it’s true. I have,” returned Guitant.
+
+“Now, my dear Guitant, I have often remarked that in addition to your courage, which is indisputable, and your fidelity, which is invincible, you possess an admirable memory.”
+
+“You have found that out, have you, my lord? Deuce take it — all the worse for me!”
+
+“How?”
+
+“There is no doubt but that one of the chief accomplishments of a courtier is to know when to forget.”
+
+“But you, Guitant, are not a courtier. You are a brave soldier, one of the few remaining veterans of the days of Henry IV. Alas! how few to-day exist!”
+
+“Plague on’t, my lord, have you brought me here to get my horoscope out of me?”
+
+“No; I only brought you here to ask you,” returned Mazarin, smiling, “if you have taken any particular notice of our lieutenant of musketeers?”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan? I have had no occasion to notice him particularly; he’s an old acquaintance. He’s a Gascon. De Tréville knows him and esteems him very highly, and De Tréville, as you know, is one of the queen’s greatest friends. As a soldier the man ranks well; he did his whole duty and even more, at the siege of Rochelle — as at Suze and Perpignan.”
+
+“But you know, Guitant, we poor ministers often want men with other qualities besides courage; we want men of talent. Pray, was not Monsieur d’Artagnan, in the time of the cardinal, mixed up in some intrigue from which he came out, according to report, quite cleverly?”
+
+“My lord, as to the report you allude to” — Guitant perceived that the cardinal wished to make him speak out — “I know nothing but what the public knows. I never meddle in intrigues, and if I occasionally become a confidant of the intrigues of others I am sure your eminence will approve of my keeping them secret.”
+
+Mazarin shook his head.
+
+“Ah!” he said; “some ministers are fortunate and find out all that they wish to know.”
+
+“My lord,” replied Guitant, “such ministers do not weigh men in the same balance; they get their information on war from warriors; on intrigues, from intriguers. Consult some politician of the period of which you speak, and if you pay well for it you will certainly get to know all you want.”
+
+“Eh, pardieu!” said Mazarin, with a grimace which he always made when spoken to about money. “They will be paid, if there is no way of getting out of it.”
+
+“Does my lord seriously wish me to name any one who was mixed up in the cabals of that day?”
+
+“By Bacchus!” rejoined Mazarin, impatiently, “it’s about an hour since I asked you for that very thing, wooden-head that you are.”
+
+“There is one man for whom I can answer, if he will speak out.”
+
+“That’s my concern; I will make him speak.”
+
+“Ah, my lord, ’tis not easy to make people say what they don’t wish to let out.”
+
+“Pooh! with patience one must succeed. Well, this man. Who is he?”
+
+“The Comte de Rochefort.”
+
+“The Comte de Rochefort!”
+
+“Unfortunately he has disappeared these four or five years and I don’t know where he is.”
+
+“I know, Guitant,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Well, then, how is it that your eminence complained just now of want of information?”
+
+“You think,” resumed Mazarin, “that Rochefort — — ”
+
+“He was Cardinal Richelieu’s creature, my lord. I warn you, however, his services will cost you something. The cardinal was lavish to his underlings.”
+
+“Yes, yes, Guitant,” said Mazarin; “Richelieu was a great man, a very great man, but he had that defect. Thanks, Guitant; I shall benefit by your advice this very evening.”
+
+Here they separated and bidding adieu to Guitant in the court of the Palais Royal, Mazarin approached an officer who was walking up and down within that inclosure.
+
+It was D’Artagnan, who was waiting for him.
+
+“Come hither,” said Mazarin in his softest voice; “I have an order to give you.”
+
+D’Artagnan bent low and following the cardinal up the secret staircase, soon found himself in the study whence they had first set out.
+
+The cardinal seated himself before his bureau and taking a sheet of paper wrote some lines upon it, whilst D’Artagnan stood imperturbable, without showing either impatience or curiosity. He was like a soldierly automaton, or rather, like a magnificent marionette.
+
+The cardinal folded and sealed his letter.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” he said, “you are to take this dispatch to the Bastile and bring back here the person it concerns. You must take a carriage and an escort, and guard the prisoner with the greatest care.”
+
+D’Artagnan took the letter, touched his hat with his hand, turned round upon his heel like a drill-sergeant, and a moment afterward was heard, in his dry and monotonous tone, commanding “Four men and an escort, a carriage and a horse.” Five minutes afterward the wheels of the carriage and the horses’ shoes were heard resounding on the pavement of the courtyard.
+
+Chapter III. Dead Animosities.
+
+D’Artagnan arrived at the Bastile just as it was striking half-past eight. His visit was announced to the governor, who, on hearing that he came from the cardinal, went to meet him and received him at the top of the great flight of steps outside the door. The governor of the Bastile was Monsieur du Tremblay, the brother of the famous Capuchin, Joseph, that fearful favorite of Richelieu’s, who went by the name of the Gray Cardinal.
+
+During the period that the Duc de Bassompierre passed in the Bastile — where he remained for twelve long years — when his companions, in their dreams of liberty, said to each other: “As for me, I shall go out of the prison at such a time,” and another, at such and such a time, the duke used to answer, “As for me, gentlemen, I shall leave only when Monsieur du Tremblay leaves;” meaning that at the death of the cardinal Du Tremblay would certainly lose his place at the Bastile and De Bassompierre regain his at court.
+
+His prediction was nearly fulfilled, but in a very different way from that which De Bassompierre supposed; for after the death of Richelieu everything went on, contrary to expectation, in the same way as before; and Bassompierre had little chance of leaving his prison.
+
+Monsieur du Tremblay received D’Artagnan with extreme politeness and invited him to sit down with him to supper, of which he was himself about to partake.
+
+“I should be delighted to do so,” was the reply; “but if I am not mistaken, the words ‘In haste,’ are written on the envelope of the letter which I brought.”
+
+“You are right,” said Du Tremblay. “Halloo, major! tell them to order Number 25 to come downstairs.”
+
+The unhappy wretch who entered the Bastile ceased, as he crossed the threshold, to be a man — he became a number.
+
+D’Artagnan shuddered at the noise of the keys; he remained on horseback, feeling no inclination to dismount, and sat looking at the bars, at the buttressed windows and the immense walls he had hitherto only seen from the other side of the moat, but by which he had for twenty years been awe-struck.
+
+A bell resounded.
+
+“I must leave you,” said Du Tremblay; “I am sent for to sign the release of a prisoner. I shall be happy to meet you again, sir.”
+
+“May the devil annihilate me if I return thy wish!” murmured D’Artagnan, smiling as he pronounced the imprecation; “I declare I feel quite ill after only being five minutes in the courtyard. Go to! go to! I would rather die on straw than hoard up a thousand a year by being governor of the Bastile.”
+
+He had scarcely finished this soliloquy before the prisoner arrived. On seeing him D’Artagnan could hardly suppress an exclamation of surprise. The prisoner got into the carriage without seeming to recognize the musketeer.
+
+“Gentlemen,” thus D’Artagnan addressed the four musketeers, “I am ordered to exercise the greatest possible care in guarding the prisoner, and since there are no locks to the carriage, I shall sit beside him. Monsieur de Lillebonne, lead my horse by the bridle, if you please.” As he spoke he dismounted, gave the bridle of his horse to the musketeer and placing himself by the side of the prisoner said, in a voice perfectly composed, “To the Palais Royal, at full trot.”
+
+The carriage drove on and D’Artagnan, availing himself of the darkness in the archway under which they were passing, threw himself into the arms of the prisoner.
+
+“Rochefort!” he exclaimed; “you! is it you, indeed? I am not mistaken?”
+
+“D’Artagnan!” cried Rochefort.
+
+“Ah! my poor friend!” resumed D’Artagnan, “not having seen you for four or five years I concluded you were dead.”
+
+“I’faith,” said Rochefort, “there’s no great difference, I think, between a dead man and one who has been buried alive; now I have been buried alive, or very nearly so.”
+
+“And for what crime are you imprisoned in the Bastile.”
+
+“Do you wish me to speak the truth?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, then, I don’t know.”
+
+“Have you any suspicion of me, Rochefort?”
+
+“No! on the honor of a gentleman; but I cannot be imprisoned for the reason alleged; it is impossible.”
+
+“What reason?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“For stealing.”
+
+“For stealing! you, Rochefort! you are laughing at me.”
+
+“I understand. You mean that this demands explanation, do you not?”
+
+“I admit it.”
+
+“Well, this is what actually took place: One evening after an orgy in Reinard’s apartment at the Tuileries with the Duc d’Harcourt, Fontrailles, De Rieux and others, the Duc d’Harcourt proposed that we should go and pull cloaks on the Pont Neuf; that is, you know, a diversion which the Duc d’Orleans made quite the fashion.”
+
+“Were you crazy, Rochefort? at your age!”
+
+“No, I was drunk. And yet, since the amusement seemed to me rather tame, I proposed to Chevalier de Rieux that we should be spectators instead of actors, and, in order to see to advantage, that we should mount the bronze horse. No sooner said than done. Thanks to the spurs, which served as stirrups, in a moment we were perched upon the croupe; we were well placed and saw everything. Four or five cloaks had already been lifted, with a dexterity without parallel, and not one of the victims had dared to say a word, when some fool of a fellow, less patient than the others, took it into his head to cry out, ‘Guard!’ and drew upon us a patrol of archers. Duc d’Harcourt, Fontrailles, and the others escaped; De Rieux was inclined to do likewise, but I told him they wouldn’t look for us where we were. He wouldn’t listen, put his foot on the spur to get down, the spur broke, he fell with a broken leg, and, instead of keeping quiet, took to crying out like a gallows-bird. I then was ready to dismount, but it was too late; I descended into the arms of the archers. They conducted me to the Chatelet, where I slept soundly, being very sure that on the next day I should go forth free. The next day came and passed, the day after, a week; I then wrote to the cardinal. The same day they came for me and took me to the Bastile. That was five years ago. Do you believe it was because I committed the sacrilege of mounting en croupe behind Henry IV.?”
+
+“No; you are right, my dear Rochefort, it couldn’t be for that; but you will probably learn the reason soon.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! I forgot to ask you — where are you taking me?”
+
+“To the cardinal.”
+
+“What does he want with me?”
+
+“I do not know. I did not even know that you were the person I was sent to fetch.”
+
+“Impossible — you — a favorite of the minister!”
+
+“A favorite! no, indeed!” cried D’Artagnan. “Ah, my poor friend! I am just as poor a Gascon as when I saw you at Meung, twenty-two years ago, you know; alas!” and he concluded his speech with a deep sigh.
+
+“Nevertheless, you come as one in authority.”
+
+“Because I happened to be in the ante-chamber when the cardinal called me, by the merest chance. I am still a lieutenant in the musketeers and have been so these twenty years.”
+
+“Then no misfortune has happened to you?”
+
+“And what misfortune could happen to me? To quote some Latin verses I have forgotten, or rather, never knew well, ‘the thunderbolt never falls on the valleys,’ and I am a valley, dear Rochefort, — one of the lowliest of the low.”
+
+“Then Mazarin is still Mazarin?”
+
+“The same as ever, my friend; it is said that he is married to the queen.”
+
+“Married?”
+
+“If not her husband, he is unquestionably her lover.”
+
+“You surprise me. Rebuff Buckingham and consent to Mazarin!”
+
+“Just like the women,” replied D’Artagnan, coolly.
+
+“Like women, not like queens.”
+
+“Egad! queens are the weakest of their sex, when it comes to such things as these.”
+
+“And M. de Beaufort — is he still in prison?”
+
+“Yes. Why?”
+
+“Oh, nothing, but that he might get me out of this, if he were favorably inclined to me.”
+
+“You are probably nearer freedom than he is, so it will be your business to get him out.”
+
+“And,” said the prisoner, “what talk is there of war with Spain?”
+
+“With Spain, no,” answered D’Artagnan; “but Paris.”
+
+“What do you mean?” cried Rochefort.
+
+“Do you hear the guns, pray? The citizens are amusing themselves in the meantime.”
+
+“And you — do you really think that anything could be done with these bourgeois?”
+
+“Yes, they might do well if they had any leader to unite them in one body.”
+
+“How miserable not to be free!”
+
+“Don’t be downcast. Since Mazarin has sent for you, it is because he wants you. I congratulate you! Many a long year has passed since any one has wanted to employ me; so you see in what a situation I am.”
+
+“Make your complaints known; that’s my advice.”
+
+“Listen, Rochefort; let us make a compact. We are friends, are we not?”
+
+“Egad! I bear the traces of our friendship — three slits or slashes from your sword.”
+
+“Well, if you should be restored to favor, don’t forget me.”
+
+“On the honor of a Rochefort; but you must do the like for me.”
+
+“There’s my hand, — I promise.”
+
+“Therefore, whenever you find any opportunity of saying something in my behalf — — ”
+
+“I shall say it, and you?”
+
+“I shall do the same.”
+
+“Apropos, are we to speak of your friends also, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis? or have you forgotten them?”
+
+“Almost.”
+
+“What has become of them?”
+
+“I don’t know; we separated, as you know. They are alive, that’s all that I can say about them; from time to time I hear of them indirectly, but in what part of the world they are, devil take me if I know, No, on my honor, I have not a friend in the world but you, Rochefort.”
+
+“And the illustrious — what’s the name of the lad whom I made a sergeant in Piedmont’s regiment?”
+
+“Planchet!”
+
+“The illustrious Planchet. What has become of him?”
+
+“I shouldn’t wonder if he were at the head of the mob at this very moment. He married a woman who keeps a confectioner’s shop in the Rue des Lombards, for he’s a lad who was always fond of sweetmeats; he’s now a citizen of Paris. You’ll see that that queer fellow will be a sheriff before I shall be a captain.”
+
+“Come, dear D’Artagnan, look up a little! Courage! It is when one is lowest on the wheel of fortune that the merry-go-round wheels and rewards us. This evening your destiny begins to change.”
+
+“Amen!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, stopping the carriage.
+
+“What are you doing?” asked Rochefort.
+
+“We are almost there and I want no one to see me getting out of your carriage; we are supposed not to know each other.”
+
+“You are right. Adieu.”
+
+“Au revoir. Remember your promise.”
+
+In five minutes the party entered the courtyard and D’Artagnan led the prisoner up the great staircase and across the corridor and ante-chamber.
+
+As they stopped at the door of the cardinal’s study, D’Artagnan was about to be announced when Rochefort slapped him on his shoulder.
+
+“D’Artagnan, let me confess to you what I’ve been thinking about during the whole of my drive, as I looked out upon the parties of citizens who perpetually crossed our path and looked at you and your four men with fiery eyes.”
+
+“Speak out,” answered D’Artagnan.
+
+“I had only to cry out ‘Help!’ for you and for your companions to be cut to pieces, and then I should have been free.”
+
+“Why didn’t you do it?” asked the lieutenant.
+
+“Come, come!” cried Rochefort. “Did we not swear friendship? Ah! had any one but you been there, I don’t say — — ”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed. “Is it possible that Rochefort has become a better man than I am?” he said to himself. And he caused himself to be announced to the minister.
+
+“Let M. de Rochefort enter,” said Mazarin, eagerly, on hearing their names pronounced; “and beg M. d’Artagnan to wait; I shall have further need of him.”
+
+These words gave great joy to D’Artagnan. As he had said, it had been a long time since any one had needed him; and that demand for his services on the part of Mazarin seemed to him an auspicious sign.
+
+Rochefort, rendered suspicious and cautious by these words, entered the apartment, where he found Mazarin sitting at the table, dressed in his ordinary garb and as one of the prelates of the Church, his costume being similar to that of the abbés in that day, excepting that his scarf and stockings were violet.
+
+As the door was closed Rochefort cast a glance toward Mazarin, which was answered by one, equally furtive, from the minister.
+
+There was little change in the cardinal; still dressed with sedulous care, his hair well arranged and curled, his person perfumed, he looked, owing to his extreme taste in dress, only half his age. But Rochefort, who had passed five years in prison, had become old in the lapse of a few years; the dark locks of this estimable friend of the defunct Cardinal Richelieu were now white; the deep bronze of his complexion had been succeeded by a mortal pallor which betokened debility. As he gazed at him Mazarin shook his head slightly, as much as to say, “This is a man who does not appear to me fit for much.”
+
+After a pause, which appeared an age to Rochefort, Mazarin took from a bundle of papers a letter, and showing it to the count, he said:
+
+“I find here a letter in which you sue for liberty, Monsieur de Rochefort. You are in prison, then?”
+
+Rochefort trembled in every limb at this question. “But I thought,” he said, “that your eminence knew that circumstance better than any one — — ”
+
+“I? Oh no! There is a congestion of prisoners in the Bastile, who were cooped up in the time of Monsieur de Richelieu; I don’t even know their names.”
+
+“Yes, but in regard to myself, my lord, it cannot be so, for I was removed from the Chatelet to the Bastile owing to an order from your eminence.”
+
+“You think you were.”
+
+“I am certain of it.”
+
+“Ah, stay! I fancy I remember it. Did you not once refuse to undertake a journey to Brussels for the queen?”
+
+“Ah! ah!” exclaimed Rochefort. “There is the true reason! Idiot that I am, though I have been trying to find it out for five years, I never found it out.”
+
+“But I do not say it was the cause of your imprisonment. I merely ask you, did you not refuse to go to Brussels for the queen, whilst you had consented to go there to do some service for the late cardinal?”
+
+“That is the very reason I refused to go back to Brussels. I was there at a fearful moment. I was sent there to intercept a correspondence between Chalais and the archduke, and even then, when I was discovered I was nearly torn to pieces. How could I, then, return to Brussels? I should injure the queen instead of serving her.”
+
+“Well, since the best motives are liable to misconstruction, the queen saw in your refusal nothing but a refusal — a distinct refusal she had also much to complain of you during the lifetime of the late cardinal; yes, her majesty the queen — — ”
+
+Rochefort smiled contemptuously.
+
+“Since I was a faithful servant, my lord, to Cardinal Richelieu during his life, it stands to reason that now, after his death, I should serve you well, in defiance of the whole world.”
+
+“With regard to myself, Monsieur de Rochefort,” replied Mazarin, “I am not, like Monsieur de Richelieu, all-powerful. I am but a minister, who wants no servants, being myself nothing but a servant of the queen’s. Now, the queen is of a sensitive nature. Hearing of your refusal to obey her she looked upon it as a declaration of war, and as she considers you a man of superior talent, and consequently dangerous, she desired me to make sure of you; that is the reason of your being shut up in the Bastile. But your release can be managed. You are one of those men who can comprehend certain matters and having understood them, can act with energy — — ”
+
+“Such was Cardinal Richelieu’s opinion, my lord.”
+
+“The cardinal,” interrupted Mazarin, “was a great politician and therein shone his vast superiority over me. I am a straightforward, simple man; that’s my great disadvantage. I am of a frankness of character quite French.”
+
+Rochefort bit his lips in order to prevent a smile.
+
+“Now to the point. I want friends; I want faithful servants. When I say I want, I mean the queen wants them. I do nothing without her commands — pray understand that; not like Monsieur de Richelieu, who went on just as he pleased. So I shall never be a great man, as he was, but to compensate for that, I shall be a good man, Monsieur de Rochefort, and I hope to prove it to you.”
+
+Rochefort knew well the tones of that soft voice, in which sounded sometimes a sort of gentle lisp, like the hissing of young vipers.
+
+“I am disposed to believe your eminence,” he replied; “though I have had but little evidence of that good-nature of which your eminence speaks. Do not forget that I have been five years in the Bastile and that no medium of viewing things is so deceptive as the grating of a prison.”
+
+“Ah, Monsieur de Rochefort! have I not told you already that I had nothing to do with that? The queen — cannot you make allowances for the pettishness of a queen and a princess? But that has passed away as suddenly as it came, and is forgotten.”
+
+“I can easily suppose, sir, that her majesty has forgotten it amid the fetes and the courtiers of the Palais Royal, but I who have passed those years in the Bastile — — ”
+
+“Ah! mon Dieu! my dear Monsieur de Rochefort! do you absolutely think that the Palais Royal is the abode of gayety? No. We have had great annoyances there. As for me, I play my game squarely, fairly, and above board, as I always do. Let us come to some conclusion. Are you one of us, Monsieur de Rochefort?”
+
+“I am very desirous of being so, my lord, but I am totally in the dark about everything. In the Bastile one talks politics only with soldiers and jailers, and you have not an idea, my lord, how little is known of what is going on by people of that sort; I am of Monsieur de Bassompierre’s party. Is he still one of the seventeen peers of France?”
+
+“He is dead, sir; a great loss. His devotion to the queen was boundless; men of loyalty are scarce.”
+
+“I think so, forsooth,” said Rochefort, “and when you find any of them, you march them off to the Bastile. However, there are plenty in the world, but you don’t look in the right direction for them, my lord.”
+
+“Indeed! explain to me. Ah! my dear Monsieur de Rochefort, how much you must have learned during your intimacy with the late cardinal! Ah! he was a great man.”
+
+“Will your eminence be angry if I read you a lesson?”
+
+“I! never! you know you may say anything to me. I try to be beloved, not feared.”
+
+“Well, there is on the wall of my cell, scratched with a nail, a proverb, which says, ‘Like master, like servant.’”
+
+“Pray, what does that mean?”
+
+“It means that Monsieur de Richelieu was able to find trusty servants, dozens and dozens of them.”
+
+“He! the point aimed at by every poniard! Richelieu, who passed his life in warding off blows which were forever aimed at him!”
+
+“But he did ward them off,” said De Rochefort, “and the reason was, that though he had bitter enemies he possessed also true friends. I have known persons,” he continued — for he thought he might avail himself of the opportunity of speaking of D’Artagnan — “who by their sagacity and address have deceived the penetration of Cardinal Richelieu; who by their valor have got the better of his guards and spies; persons without money, without support, without credit, yet who have preserved to the crowned head its crown and made the cardinal crave pardon.”
+
+“But those men you speak of,” said Mazarin, smiling inwardly on seeing Rochefort approach the point to which he was leading him, “those men were not devoted to the cardinal, for they contended against him.”
+
+“No; in that case they would have met with more fitting reward. They had the misfortune to be devoted to that very queen for whom just now you were seeking servants.”
+
+“But how is it that you know so much of these matters?”
+
+“I know them because the men of whom I speak were at that time my enemies; because they fought against me; because I did them all the harm I could and they returned it to the best of their ability; because one of them, with whom I had most to do, gave me a pretty sword-thrust, now about seven years ago, the third that I received from the same hand; it closed an old account.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mazarin, with admirable suavity, “could I but find such men!”
+
+“My lord, there has stood for six years at your very door a man such as I describe, and during those six years he has been unappreciated and unemployed by you.”
+
+“Who is it?”
+
+“It is Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“That Gascon!” cried Mazarin, with well acted surprise.
+
+“‘That Gascon’ has saved a queen and made Monsieur de Richelieu confess that in point of talent, address and political skill, to him he was only a tyro.”
+
+“Really?”
+
+“It is as I have the honor of telling it to your excellency.”
+
+“Tell me a little about it, my dear Monsieur de Rochefort.”
+
+“That is somewhat difficult, my lord,” said Rochefort, with a smile.
+
+“Then he will tell it me himself.”
+
+“I doubt it, my lord.”
+
+“Why do you doubt it?”
+
+“Because the secret does not belong to him; because, as I have told you, it has to do with a great queen.”
+
+“And he was alone in achieving an enterprise like that?”
+
+“No, my lord, he had three colleagues, three brave men, men such as you were wishing for just now.”
+
+“And were these four men attached to each other, true in heart, really united?”
+
+“As if they had been one man — as if their four hearts had pulsated in one breast.”
+
+“You pique my curiosity, dear Rochefort; pray tell me the whole story.”
+
+“That is impossible; but I will tell you a true story, my lord.”
+
+“Pray do so, I delight in stories,” cried the cardinal.
+
+“Listen, then,” returned Rochefort, as he spoke endeavoring to read in that subtle countenance the cardinal’s motive. “Once upon a time there lived a queen — a powerful monarch — who reigned over one of the greatest kingdoms of the universe; and a minister; and this minister wished much to injure the queen, whom once he had loved too well. (Do not try, my lord, you cannot guess who it is; all this happened long before you came into the country where this queen reigned.) There came to the court an ambassador so brave, so magnificent, so elegant, that every woman lost her heart to him; and the queen had even the indiscretion to give him certain ornaments so rare that they could never be replaced by any like them.
+
+“As these ornaments were given by the king the minister persuaded his majesty to insist upon the queen’s appearing in them as part of her jewels at a ball which was soon to take place. There is no occasion to tell you, my lord, that the minister knew for a fact that these ornaments had sailed away with the ambassador, who was far away, beyond seas. This illustrious queen had fallen low as the least of her subjects — fallen from her high estate.”
+
+“Indeed!”
+
+“Well, my lord, four men resolved to save her. These four men were not princes, neither were they dukes, neither were they men in power; they were not even rich. They were four honest soldiers, each with a good heart, a good arm and a sword at the service of those who wanted it. They set out. The minister knew of their departure and had planted people on the road to prevent them ever reaching their destination. Three of them were overwhelmed and disabled by numerous assailants; one of them alone arrived at the port, having either killed or wounded those who wished to stop him. He crossed the sea and brought back the set of ornaments to the great queen, who was able to wear them on her shoulder on the appointed day; and this very nearly ruined the minister. What do you think of that exploit, my lord?”
+
+“It is magnificent!” said Mazarin, thoughtfully.
+
+“Well, I know of ten such men.”
+
+Mazarin made no reply; he reflected.
+
+Five or six minutes elapsed.
+
+“You have nothing more to ask of me, my lord?” said Rochefort.
+
+“Yes. And you say that Monsieur d’Artagnan was one of those four men?”
+
+“He led the enterprise.”
+
+“And who were the others?”
+
+“I leave it to Monsieur d’Artagnan to name them, my lord. They were his friends and not mine. He alone would have any influence with them; I do not even know them under their true names.”
+
+“You suspect me, Monsieur de Rochefort; I want him and you and all to aid me.”
+
+“Begin with me, my lord; for after five or six years of imprisonment it is natural to feel some curiosity as to one’s destination.”
+
+“You, my dear Monsieur de Rochefort, shall have the post of confidence; you shall go to Vincennes, where Monsieur de Beaufort is confined; you will guard him well for me. Well, what is the matter?”
+
+“The matter is that you have proposed to me what is impossible,” said Rochefort, shaking his head with an air of disappointment.
+
+“What! impossible? And why is it impossible?”
+
+“Because Monsieur de Beaufort is one of my friends, or rather, I am one of his. Have you forgotten, my lord, that it is he who answered for me to the queen?”
+
+“Since then Monsieur de Beaufort has become an enemy of the State.”
+
+“That may be, my lord; but since I am neither king nor queen nor minister, he is not my enemy and I cannot accept your offer.”
+
+“This, then, is what you call devotion! I congratulate you. Your devotion does not commit you too far, Monsieur de Rochefort.”
+
+“And then, my lord,” continued Rochefort, “you understand that to emerge from the Bastile in order to enter Vincennes is only to change one’s prison.”
+
+“Say at once that you are on the side of Monsieur de Beaufort; that will be the most sincere line of conduct,” said Mazarin.
+
+“My lord, I have been so long shut up, that I am only of one party — I am for fresh air. Employ me in any other way; employ me even actively, but let it be on the high roads.”
+
+“My dear Monsieur de Rochefort,” Mazarin replied in a tone of raillery, “you think yourself still a young man; your spirit is that of the phoenix, but your strength fails you. Believe me, you ought now to take a rest. Here!”
+
+“You decide, then, nothing about me, my lord?”
+
+“On the contrary, I have come to a decision.”
+
+Bernouin came into the room.
+
+“Call an officer of justice,” he said; “and stay close to me,” he added, in a low tone.
+
+The officer entered. Mazarin wrote a few words, which he gave to this man; then he bowed.
+
+“Adieu, Monsieur de Rochefort,” he said.
+
+Rochefort bent low.
+
+“I see, my lord, I am to be taken back to the Bastile.”
+
+“You are sagacious.”
+
+“I shall return thither, my lord, but it is a mistake on your part not to employ me.”
+
+“You? the friend of my greatest foes? Don’t suppose that you are the only person who can serve me, Monsieur de Rochefort. I shall find many men as able as you are.”
+
+“I wish you may, my lord,” replied De Rochefort.
+
+He was then reconducted by the little staircase, instead of passing through the ante-chamber where D’Artagnan was waiting. In the courtyard the carriage and the four musketeers were ready, but he looked around in vain for his friend.
+
+“Ah!” he muttered to himself, “this changes the situation, and if there is still a crowd of people in the streets we will try to show Mazarin that we are still, thank God, good for something else than keeping guard over a prisoner;” and he jumped into the carriage with the alacrity of a man of five-and-twenty.
+
+Chapter IV. Anne of Austria at the Age of Forty-six.
+
+When left alone with Bernouin, Mazarin was for some minutes lost in thought. He had gained much information, but not enough. Mazarin was a cheat at the card-table. This is a detail preserved to us by Brienne. He called it using his advantages. He now determined not to begin the game with D’Artagnan till he knew completely all his adversary’s cards.
+
+“My lord, have you any commands?” asked Bernouin.
+
+“Yes, yes,” replied Mazarin. “Light me; I am going to the queen.”
+
+Bernouin took up a candlestick and led the way.
+
+There was a secret communication between the cardinal’s apartments and those of the queen; and through this corridor* Mazarin passed whenever he wished to visit Anne of Austria.
+
+*This secret passage is still to be seen in the Palais Royal.
+
+In the bedroom in which this passage ended, Bernouin encountered Madame de Beauvais, like himself intrusted with the secret of these subterranean love affairs; and Madame de Beauvais undertook to prepare Anne of Austria, who was in her oratory with the young king, Louis XIV., to receive the cardinal.
+
+Anne, reclining in a large easy-chair, her head supported by her hand, her elbow resting on a table, was looking at her son, who was turning over the leaves of a large book filled with pictures. This celebrated woman fully understood the art of being dull with dignity. It was her practice to pass hours either in her oratory or in her room, without either reading or praying.
+
+When Madame de Beauvais appeared at the door and announced the cardinal, the child, who had been absorbed in the pages of Quintus Curtius, enlivened as they were by engravings of Alexander’s feats of arms, frowned and looked at his mother.
+
+“Why,” he said, “does he enter without first asking for an audience?”
+
+Anne colored slightly.
+
+“The prime minister,” she said, “is obliged in these unsettled days to inform the queen of all that is happening from time to time, without exciting the curiosity or remarks of the court.”
+
+“But Richelieu never came in this manner,” said the pertinacious boy.
+
+“How can you remember what Monsieur de Richelieu did? You were too young to know about such things.”
+
+“I do not remember what he did, but I have inquired and I have been told all about it.”
+
+“And who told you about it?” asked Anne of Austria, with a movement of impatience.
+
+“I know that I ought never to name the persons who answer my questions,” answered the child, “for if I do I shall learn nothing further.”
+
+At this very moment Mazarin entered. The king rose immediately, took his book, closed it and went to lay it down on the table, near which he continued standing, in order that Mazarin might be obliged to stand also.
+
+Mazarin contemplated these proceedings with a thoughtful glance. They explained what had occurred that evening.
+
+He bowed respectfully to the king, who gave him a somewhat cavalier reception, but a look from his mother reproved him for the hatred which, from his infancy, Louis XIV. had entertained toward Mazarin, and he endeavored to receive the minister’s homage with civility.
+
+Anne of Austria sought to read in Mazarin’s face the occasion of this unexpected visit, since the cardinal usually came to her apartment only after every one had retired.
+
+The minister made a slight sign with his head, whereupon the queen said to Madame Beauvais:
+
+“It is time for the king to go to bed; call Laporte.”
+
+The queen had several times already told her son that he ought to go to bed, and several times Louis had coaxingly insisted on staying where he was; but now he made no reply, but turned pale and bit his lips with anger.
+
+In a few minutes Laporte came into the room. The child went directly to him without kissing his mother.
+
+“Well, Louis,” said Anne, “why do you not kiss me?”
+
+“I thought you were angry with me, madame; you sent me away.”
+
+“I do not send you away, but you have had the small-pox and I am afraid that sitting up late may tire you.”
+
+“You had no fears of my being tired when you ordered me to go to the palace to-day to pass the odious decrees which have raised the people to rebellion.”
+
+“Sire!” interposed Laporte, in order to turn the subject, “to whom does your majesty wish me to give the candle?”
+
+“To any one, Laporte,” the child said; and then added in a loud voice, “to any one except Mancini.”
+
+Now Mancini was a nephew of Mazarin’s and was as much hated by Louis as the cardinal himself, although placed near his person by the minister.
+
+And the king went out of the room without either embracing his mother or even bowing to the cardinal.
+
+“Good,” said Mazarin, “I am glad to see that his majesty has been brought up with a hatred of dissimulation.”
+
+“Why do you say that?” asked the queen, almost timidly.
+
+“Why, it seems to me that the way in which he left us needs no explanation. Besides, his majesty takes no pains to conceal how little affection he has for me. That, however, does not hinder me from being entirely devoted to his service, as I am to that of your majesty.”
+
+“I ask your pardon for him, cardinal,” said the queen; “he is a child, not yet able to understand his obligations to you.”
+
+The cardinal smiled.
+
+“But,” continued the queen, “you have doubtless come for some important purpose. What is it, then?”
+
+Mazarin sank into a chair with the deepest melancholy painted on his countenance.
+
+“It is likely,” he replied, “that we shall soon be obliged to separate, unless you love me well enough to follow me to Italy.”
+
+“Why,” cried the queen; “how is that?”
+
+“Because, as they say in the opera of ‘Thisbe,’ ‘The whole world conspires to break our bonds.’”
+
+“You jest, sir!” answered the queen, endeavoring to assume something of her former dignity.
+
+“Alas! I do not, madame,” rejoined Mazarin. “Mark well what I say. The whole world conspires to break our bonds. Now as you are one of the whole world, I mean to say that you also are deserting me.”
+
+“Cardinal!”
+
+“Heavens! did I not see you the other day smile on the Duke of Orleans? or rather at what he said?”
+
+“And what was he saying?”
+
+“He said this, madame: ‘Mazarin is a stumbling-block. Send him away and all will then be well.’”
+
+“What do you wish me to do?”
+
+“Oh, madame! you are the queen!”
+
+“Queen, forsooth! when I am at the mercy of every scribbler in the Palais Royal who covers waste paper with nonsense, or of every country squire in the kingdom.”
+
+“Nevertheless, you have still the power of banishing from your presence those whom you do not like!”
+
+“That is to say, whom you do not like,” returned the queen.
+
+“I! persons whom I do not like!”
+
+“Yes, indeed. Who sent away Madame de Chevreuse after she had been persecuted twelve years under the last reign?”
+
+“A woman of intrigue, who wanted to keep up against me the spirit of cabal she had raised against M. de Richelieu.”
+
+“Who dismissed Madame de Hautefort, that friend so loyal that she refused the favor of the king that she might remain in mine?”
+
+“A prude, who told you every night, as she undressed you, that it was a sin to love a priest, just as if one were a priest because one happens to be a cardinal.”
+
+“Who ordered Monsieur de Beaufort to be arrested?”
+
+“An incendiary the burden of whose song was his intention to assassinate me.”
+
+“You see, cardinal,” replied the queen, “that your enemies are mine.”
+
+“That is not enough madame, it is necessary that your friends should be also mine.”
+
+“My friends, monsieur?” The queen shook her head. “Alas, I have them no longer!”
+
+“How is it that you have no friends in your prosperity when you had many in adversity?”
+
+“It is because in my prosperity I forgot those old friends, monsieur; because I have acted like Queen Marie de Medicis, who, returning from her first exile, treated with contempt all those who had suffered for her and, being proscribed a second time, died at Cologne abandoned by every one, even by her own son.”
+
+“Well, let us see,” said Mazarin; “isn’t there still time to repair the evil? Search among your friends, your oldest friends.”
+
+“What do you mean, monsieur?”
+
+“Nothing else than I say — search.”
+
+“Alas, I look around me in vain! I have no influence with any one. Monsieur is, as usual, led by his favorite; yesterday it was Choisy, to-day it is La Riviere, to-morrow it will be some one else. Monsieur le Prince is led by the coadjutor, who is led by Madame de Guemenee.”
+
+“Therefore, madame, I ask you to look, not among your friends of to-day, but among those of other times.”
+
+“Among my friends of other times?” said the queen.
+
+“Yes, among your friends of other times; among those who aided you to contend against the Duc de Richelieu and even to conquer him.”
+
+“What is he aiming at?” murmured the queen, looking uneasily at the cardinal.
+
+“Yes,” continued his eminence; “under certain circumstances, with that strong and shrewd mind your majesty possesses, aided by your friends, you were able to repel the attacks of that adversary.”
+
+“I!” said the queen. “I suffered, that is all.”
+
+“Yes,” said Mazarin, “as women suffer in avenging themselves. Come, let us come to the point. Do you know Monsieur de Rochefort?”
+
+“One of my bitterest enemies — the faithful friend of Cardinal Richelieu.”
+
+“I know that, and we sent him to the Bastile,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Is he at liberty?” asked the queen.
+
+“No; still there, but I only speak of him in order that I may introduce the name of another man. Do you know Monsieur d’Artagnan?” he added, looking steadfastly at the queen.
+
+Anne of Austria received the blow with a beating heart.
+
+“Has the Gascon been indiscreet?” she murmured to herself, then said aloud:
+
+“D’Artagnan! stop an instant, the name seems certainly familiar. D’Artagnan! there was a musketeer who was in love with one of my women. Poor young creature! she was poisoned on my account.”
+
+“That’s all you know of him?” asked Mazarin.
+
+The queen looked at him, surprised.
+
+“You seem, sir,” she remarked, “to be making me undergo a course of cross-examination.”
+
+“Which you answer according to your fancy,” replied Mazarin.
+
+“Tell me your wishes and I will comply with them.”
+
+The queen spoke with some impatience.
+
+“Well, madame,” said Mazarin, bowing, “I desire that you give me a share in your friends, as I have shared with you the little industry and talent that Heaven has given me. The circumstances are grave and it will be necessary to act promptly.”
+
+“Still!” said the queen. “I thought that we were finally quit of Monsieur de Beaufort.”
+
+“Yes, you saw only the torrent that threatened to overturn everything and you gave no attention to the still water. There is, however, a proverb current in France relating to water which is quiet.”
+
+“Continue,” said the queen.
+
+“Well, then, madame, not a day passes in which I do not suffer affronts from your princes and your lordly servants, all of them automata who do not perceive that I wind up the spring that makes them move, nor do they see that beneath my quiet demeanor lies the still scorn of an injured, irritated man, who has sworn to himself to master them one of these days. We have arrested Monsieur de Beaufort, but he is the least dangerous among them. There is the Prince de Condé — — ”
+
+“The hero of Rocroy. Do you think of him?”
+
+“Yes, madame, often and often, but pazienza, as we say in Italy; next, after Monsieur de Condé, comes the Duke of Orleans.”
+
+“What are you saying? The first prince of the blood, the king’s uncle!”
+
+“No! not the first prince of the blood, not the king’s uncle, but the base conspirator, the soul of every cabal, who pretends to lead the brave people who are weak enough to believe in the honor of a prince of the blood — not the prince nearest to the throne, not the king’s uncle, I repeat, but the murderer of Chalais, of Montmorency and of Cinq-Mars, who is playing now the same game he played long ago and who thinks that he will win the game because he has a new adversary — instead of a man who threatened, a man who smiles. But he is mistaken; I shall not leave so near the queen that source of discord with which the deceased cardinal so often caused the anger of the king to rage above the boiling point.”
+
+Anne blushed and buried her face in her hands.
+
+“What am I to do?” she said, bowed down beneath the voice of her tyrant.
+
+“Endeavor to remember the names of those faithful servants who crossed the Channel, in spite of Monsieur de Richelieu, tracking the roads along which they passed by their blood, to bring back to your majesty certain jewels given by you to Buckingham.”
+
+Anne arose, full of majesty, and as if touched by a spring, and looking at the cardinal with the haughty dignity which in the days of her youth had made her so powerful: “You are insulting me!” she said.
+
+“I wish,” continued Mazarin, finishing, as it were, the speech this sudden movement of the queen had cut; “I wish, in fact, that you should now do for your husband what you formerly did for your lover.”
+
+“Again that accusation!” cried the queen. “I thought that calumny was stifled or extinct; you have spared me till now, but since you speak of it, once for all, I tell you — — ”
+
+“Madame, I do not ask you to tell me,” said Mazarin, astounded by this returning courage.
+
+“I will tell you all,” replied Anne. “Listen: there were in truth, at that epoch, four devoted hearts, four loyal spirits, four faithful swords, who saved more than my life — my honor — — ”
+
+“Ah! you confess it!” exclaimed Mazarin.
+
+“Is it only the guilty whose honor is at the sport of others, sir? and cannot women be dishonored by appearances? Yes, appearances were against me and I was about to suffer dishonor. However, I swear I was not guilty, I swear it by — — ”
+
+The queen looked around her for some sacred object by which she could swear, and taking out of a cupboard hidden in the tapestry, a small coffer of rosewood set in silver, and laying it on the altar:
+
+“I swear,” she said, “by these sacred relics that Buckingham was not my lover.”
+
+“What relics are those by which you swear?” asked Mazarin, smiling. “I am incredulous.”
+
+The queen untied from around her throat a small golden key which hung there, and presented it to the cardinal.
+
+“Open, sir,” she said, “and look for yourself.”
+
+Mazarin opened the coffer; a knife, covered with rust, and two letters, one of which was stained with blood, alone met his gaze.
+
+“What are these things?” he asked.
+
+“What are these things?” replied Anne, with queen-like dignity, extending toward the open coffer an arm, despite the lapse of years, still beautiful. “These two letters are the only ones I ever wrote to him. This knife is the knife with which Felton stabbed him. Read the letters and see if I have lied or spoken the truth.”
+
+But Mazarin, notwithstanding this permission, instead of reading the letters, took the knife which the dying Buckingham had snatched out of the wound and sent by Laporte to the queen. The blade was red, for the blood had become rust; after a momentary examination during which the queen became as white as the cloth which covered the altar on which she was leaning, he put it back into the coffer with an involuntary shudder.
+
+“It is well, madame, I believe your oath.”
+
+“No, no, read,” exclaimed the queen, indignantly; “read, I command you, for I am resolved that everything shall be finished to-night and never will I recur to this subject again. Do you think,” she said, with a ghastly smile, “that I shall be inclined to reopen this coffer to answer any future accusations?”
+
+Mazarin, overcome by this determination, read the two letters. In one the queen asked for the ornaments back again. This letter had been conveyed by D’Artagnan and had arrived in time. The other was that which Laporte had placed in the hands of the Duke of Buckingham, warning him that he was about to be assassinated; that communication had arrived too late.
+
+“It is well, madame,” said Mazarin; “nothing can gainsay such testimony.”
+
+“Sir,” replied the queen, closing the coffer and leaning her hand upon it, “if there is anything to be said, it is that I have always been ungrateful to the brave men who saved me — that I have given nothing to that gallant officer, D’Artagnan, you were speaking of just now, but my hand to kiss and this diamond.”
+
+As she spoke she extended her beautiful hand to the cardinal and showed him a superb diamond which sparkled on her finger.
+
+“It appears,” she resumed, “that he sold it — -he sold it in order to save me another time — to be able to send a messenger to the duke to warn him of his danger — he sold it to Monsieur des Essarts, on whose finger I remarked it. I bought it from him, but it belongs to D’Artagnan. Give it back to him, sir, and since you have such a man in your service, make him useful.”
+
+“Thank you, madame,” said Mazarin. “I will profit by the advice.”
+
+“And now,” added the queen, her voice broken by her emotion, “have you any other question to ask me?”
+
+“Nothing,” — the cardinal spoke in his most conciliatory manner — “except to beg of you to forgive my unworthy suspicions. I love you so tenderly that I cannot help being jealous, even of the past.”
+
+A smile, which was indefinable, passed over the lips of the queen.
+
+“Since you have no further interrogations to make, leave me, I beseech you,” she said. “I wish, after such a scene, to be alone.”
+
+Mazarin bent low before her.
+
+“I will retire, madame. Do you permit me to return?”
+
+“Yes, to-morrow.”
+
+The cardinal took the queen’s hand and pressed it with an air of gallantry to his lips.
+
+Scarcely had he left her when the queen went into her son’s room, and inquired from Laporte if the king was in bed. Laporte pointed to the child, who was asleep.
+
+Anne ascended the steps side of the bed and softly kissed the placid forehead of her son; then she retired as silently as she had come, merely saying to Laporte:
+
+“Try, my dear Laporte, to make the king more courteous to Monsieur le Cardinal, to whom both he and I are under such important obligations.”
+
+Chapter V. The Gascon and the Italian.
+
+Meanwhile the cardinal returned to his own room; and after asking Bernouin, who stood at the door, whether anything had occurred during his absence, and being answered in the negative, he desired that he might be left alone.
+
+When he was alone he opened the door of the corridor and then that of the ante-chamber. There D’Artagnan was asleep upon a bench.
+
+The cardinal went up to him and touched his shoulder. D’Artagnan started, awakened himself, and as he awoke, stood up exactly like a soldier under arms.
+
+“Here I am,” said he. “Who calls me?”
+
+“I,” said Mazarin, with his most smiling expression.
+
+“I ask pardon of your eminence,” said D’Artagnan, “but I was so fatigued — — ”
+
+“Don’t ask my pardon, monsieur,” said Mazarin, “for you fatigued yourself in my service.”
+
+D’Artagnan admired Mazarin’s gracious manner. “Ah,” said he, between his teeth, “is there truth in the proverb that fortune comes while one sleeps?”
+
+“Follow me, monsieur,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Come, come,” murmured D’Artagnan, “Rochefort has kept his promise, but where in the devil is he?” And he searched the cabinet even to the smallest recesses, but there was no sign of Rochefort.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal, sitting down on a fauteuil, “you have always seemed to me to be a brave and honorable man.”
+
+“Possibly,” thought D’Artagnan, “but he has taken a long time to let me know his thoughts;” nevertheless, he bowed to the very ground in gratitude for Mazarin’s compliment.
+
+“Well,” continued Mazarin, “the time has come to put to use your talents and your valor.”
+
+There was a sudden gleam of joy in the officer’s eyes, which vanished immediately, for he knew nothing of Mazarin’s purpose.
+
+“Order, my lord,” he said; “I am ready to obey your eminence.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” continued the cardinal, “you performed sundry superb exploits in the last reign.”
+
+“Your eminence is too good to remember such trifles in my favor. It is true I fought with tolerable success.”
+
+“I don’t speak of your warlike exploits, monsieur,” said Mazarin; “although they gained you much reputation, they were surpassed by others.”
+
+D’Artagnan pretended astonishment.
+
+“Well, you do not reply?” resumed Mazarin.
+
+“I am waiting, my lord, till you tell me of what exploits you speak.”
+
+“I speak of the adventure — Eh, you know well what I mean.”
+
+“Alas, no, my lord!” replied D’Artagnan, surprised.
+
+“You are discreet — so much the better. I speak of that adventure in behalf of the queen, of the ornaments, of the journey you made with three of your friends.”
+
+“Aha!” thought the Gascon; “is this a snare or not? Let me be on my guard.”
+
+And he assumed a look of stupidity which Mendori or Bellerose, two of the first actors of the day, might have envied.
+
+“Bravo!” cried Mazarin; “they told me that you were the man I wanted. Come, let us see what you will do for me.”
+
+“Everything that your eminence may please to command me,” was the reply.
+
+“You will do for me what you have done for the queen?”
+
+“Certainly,” D’Artagnan said to himself, “he wishes to make me speak out. He’s not more cunning than De Richelieu was! Devil take him!” Then he said aloud:
+
+“The queen, my lord? I don’t comprehend.”
+
+“You don’t comprehend that I want you and your three friends to be of use to me?”
+
+“Which of my friends, my lord?”
+
+“Your three friends — the friends of former days.”
+
+“Of former days, my lord! In former days I had not only three friends, I had thirty; at two-and-twenty one calls every man one’s friend.”
+
+“Well, sir,” returned Mazarin, “prudence is a fine thing, but to-day you might regret having been too prudent.”
+
+“My lord, Pythagoras made his disciples keep silence for five years that they might learn to hold their tongues.”
+
+“But you have been silent for twenty years, sir. Speak, now the queen herself releases you from your promise.”
+
+“The queen!” said D’Artagnan, with an astonishment which this time was not pretended.
+
+“Yes, the queen! And as a proof of what I say she commanded me to show you this diamond, which she thinks you know.”
+
+And so saying, Mazarin extended his hand to the officer, who sighed as he recognized the ring so gracefully given to him by the queen on the night of the ball at the Hotel de Ville and which she had repurchased from Monsieur des Essarts.
+
+“’Tis true. I remember well that diamond, which belonged to the queen.”
+
+“You see, then, that I speak to you in the queen’s name. Answer me without acting as if you were on the stage; your interests are concerned in your so doing.”
+
+“Faith, my lord, it is very necessary for me to make my fortune, your eminence has so long forgotten me.”
+
+“We need only a week to amend all that. Come, you are accounted for, you are here, but where are your friends?”
+
+“I do not know, my lord. We have parted company this long time; all three have left the service.”
+
+“Where can you find them, then?”
+
+“Wherever they are, that’s my business.”
+
+“Well, now, what are your conditions, if I employ you?”
+
+“Money, my lord, as much money as what you wish me to undertake will require. I remember too well how sometimes we were stopped for want of money, and but for that diamond, which I was obliged to sell, we should have remained on the road.”
+
+“The devil he does! Money! and a large sum!” said Mazarin. “Pray, are you aware that the king has no money in his treasury?”
+
+“Do then as I did, my lord. Sell the crown diamonds. Trust me, don’t let us try to do things cheaply. Great undertakings come poorly off with paltry means.”
+
+“Well,” returned Mazarin, “we will satisfy you.”
+
+“Richelieu,” thought D’Artagnan, “would have given me five hundred pistoles in advance.”
+
+“You will then be at my service?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“Yes, if my friends agree.”
+
+“But if they refuse can I count on you?”
+
+“I have never accomplished anything alone,” said D’Artagnan, shaking his head.
+
+“Go, then, and find them.”
+
+“What shall I say to them by way of inducement to serve your eminence?”
+
+“You know them better than I. Adapt your promises to their respective characters.”
+
+“What shall I promise?”
+
+“That if they serve me as well as they served the queen my gratitude shall be magnificent.”
+
+“But what are we to do?”
+
+“Make your mind easy; when the time for action comes you shall be put in full possession of what I require from you; wait till that time arrives and find out your friends.”
+
+“My lord, perhaps they are not in Paris. It is even probable that I shall have to make a journey. I am only a lieutenant of musketeers, very poor, and journeys cost money.
+
+“My intention,” said Mazarin, “is not that you go with a great following; my plans require secrecy, and would be jeopardized by a too extravagant equipment.”
+
+“Still, my lord, I can’t travel on my pay, for it is now three months behind; and I can’t travel on my savings, for in my twenty-two years of service I have accumulated nothing but debts.”
+
+Mazarin remained some moments in deep thought, as if he were fighting with himself; then, going to a large cupboard closed with a triple lock, he took from it a bag of silver, and weighing it twice in his hands before he gave it to D’Artagnan:
+
+“Take this,” he said with a sigh, “’tis merely for your journey.”
+
+“If these are Spanish doubloons, or even gold crowns,” thought D’Artagnan, “we shall yet be able to do business together.” He saluted the cardinal and plunged the bag into the depths of an immense pocket.
+
+“Well, then, all is settled; you are to set off,” said the cardinal.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Apropos, what are the names of your friends?”
+
+“The Count de la Fere, formerly styled Athos; Monsieur du Vallon, whom we used to call Porthos; the Chevalier d’Herblay, now the Abbé d’Herblay, whom we styled Aramis — — ”
+
+The cardinal smiled.
+
+“Younger sons,” he said, “who enlisted in the musketeers under feigned names in order not to lower their family names. Long swords but light purses. Was that it?”
+
+“If, God willing, these swords should be devoted to the service of your eminence,” said D’Artagnan, “I shall venture to express a wish, which is, that in its turn the purse of your eminence may become light and theirs heavy — for with these three men your eminence may rouse all Europe if you like.”
+
+“These Gascons,” said the cardinal, laughing, “almost beat the Italians in effrontery.”
+
+“At all events,” answered D’Artagnan, with a smile almost as crafty as the cardinal’s, “they beat them when they draw their swords.”
+
+He then withdrew, and as he passed into the courtyard he stopped near a lamp and dived eagerly into the bag of money.
+
+“Crown pieces only — silver pieces! I suspected it. Ah! Mazarin! Mazarin! thou hast no confidence in me! so much the worse for thee, for harm may come of it!”
+
+Meanwhile the cardinal was rubbing his hands in great satisfaction.
+
+“A hundred pistoles! a hundred pistoles! for a hundred pistoles I have discovered a secret for which Richelieu would have paid twenty thousand crowns; without reckoning the value of that diamond” — he cast a complacent look at the ring, which he had kept, instead of restoring to D’Artagnan — “which is worth, at least, ten thousand francs.”
+
+He returned to his room, and after depositing the ring in a casket filled with brilliants of every sort, for the cardinal was a connoisseur in precious stones, he called to Bernouin to undress him, regardless of the noises of gun-fire that, though it was now near midnight, continued to resound through Paris.
+
+In the meantime D’Artagnan took his way toward the Rue Tiquetonne, where he lived at the Hotel de la Chevrette.
+
+We will explain in a few words how D’Artagnan had been led to choose that place of residence.
+
+Chapter VI. D’Artagnan in his Fortieth Year.
+
+Years have elapsed, many events have happened, alas! since, in our romance of “The Three Musketeers,” we took leave of D’Artagnan at No. 12 Rue des Fossoyeurs. D’Artagnan had not failed in his career, but circumstances had been adverse to him. So long as he was surrounded by his friends he retained his youth and the poetry of his character. He was one of those fine, ingenuous natures which assimilate themselves easily to the dispositions of others. Athos imparted to him his greatness of soul, Porthos his enthusiasm, Aramis his elegance. Had D’Artagnan continued his intimacy with these three men he would have become a superior character. Athos was the first to leave him, in order that he might retire to a little property he had inherited near Blois; Porthos, the second, to marry an attorney’s wife; and lastly, Aramis, the third, to take orders and become an abbé. From that day D’Artagnan felt lonely and powerless, without courage to pursue a career in which he could only distinguish himself on condition that each of his three companions should endow him with one of the gifts each had received from Heaven.
+
+Notwithstanding his commission in the musketeers, D’Artagnan felt completely solitary. For a time the delightful remembrance of Madame Bonancieux left on his character a certain poetic tinge, perishable indeed; for like all other recollections in this world, these impressions were, by degrees, effaced. A garrison life is fatal even to the most aristocratic organization; and imperceptibly, D’Artagnan, always in the camp, always on horseback, always in garrison, became (I know not how in the present age one would express it) a typical trooper. His early refinement of character was not only not lost, it grew even greater than ever; but it was now applied to the little, instead of to the great things of life — to the martial condition of the soldier — comprised under the head of a good lodging, a rich table, a congenial hostess. These important advantages D’Artagnan found to his own taste in the Rue Tiquetonne at the sign of the Roe.
+
+From the time D’Artagnan took quarters in that hotel, the mistress of the house, a pretty and fresh looking Flemish woman, twenty-five or twenty-six years old, had been singularly interested in him; and after certain love passages, much obstructed by an inconvenient husband to whom a dozen times D’Artagnan had made a pretence of passing a sword through his body, that husband had disappeared one fine morning, after furtively selling certain choice lots of wine, carrying away with him money and jewels. He was thought to be dead; his wife, especially, who cherished the pleasing idea that she was a widow, stoutly maintained that death had taken him. Therefore, after the connection had continued three years, carefully fostered by D’Artagnan, who found his bed and his mistress more agreeable every year, each doing credit to the other, the mistress conceived the extraordinary desire of becoming a wife and proposed to D’Artagnan that he should marry her.
+
+“Ah, fie!” D’Artagnan replied. “Bigamy, my dear! Come now, you don’t really wish it?”
+
+“But he is dead; I am sure of it.”
+
+“He was a very contrary fellow and might come back on purpose to have us hanged.”
+
+“All right; if he comes back you will kill him, you are so skillful and so brave.”
+
+“Peste! my darling! another way of getting hanged.”
+
+“So you refuse my request?”
+
+“To be sure I do — furiously!”
+
+The pretty landlady was desolate. She would have taken D’Artagnan not only as her husband, but as her God, he was so handsome and had so fierce a mustache.
+
+Then along toward the fourth year came the expedition of Franche-Comte. D’Artagnan was assigned to it and made his preparations to depart. There were then great griefs, tears without end and solemn promises to remain faithful — all of course on the part of the hostess. D’Artagnan was too grand to promise anything; he purposed only to do all that he could to increase the glory of his name.
+
+As to that, we know D’Artagnan’s courage; he exposed himself freely to danger and while charging at the head of his company he received a ball through the chest which laid him prostrate on the field of battle. He had been seen falling from his horse and had not been seen to rise; every one, therefore, believed him to be dead, especially those to whom his death would give promotion. One believes readily what he wishes to believe. Now in the army, from the division-generals who desire the death of the general-in-chief, to the soldiers who desire the death of the corporals, all desire some one’s death.
+
+But D’Artagnan was not a man to let himself be killed like that. After he had remained through the heat of the day unconscious on the battle-field, the cool freshness of the night brought him to himself. He gained a village, knocked at the door of the finest house and was received as the wounded are always and everywhere received in France. He was petted, tended, cured; and one fine morning, in better health than ever before, he set out for France. Once in France he turned his course toward Paris, and reaching Paris went straight to Rue Tiquetonne.
+
+But D’Artagnan found in his chamber the personal equipment of a man, complete, except for the sword, arranged along the wall.
+
+“He has returned,” said he. “So much the worse, and so much the better!”
+
+It need not be said that D’Artagnan was still thinking of the husband. He made inquiries and discovered that the servants were new and that the mistress had gone for a walk.
+
+“Alone?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“With monsieur.”
+
+“Monsieur has returned, then?”
+
+“Of course,” naively replied the servant.
+
+“If I had any money,” said D’Artagnan to himself, “I would go away; but I have none. I must stay and follow the advice of my hostess, while thwarting the conjugal designs of this inopportune apparition.”
+
+He had just completed this monologue — which proves that in momentous circumstances nothing is more natural than the monologue — when the servant-maid, watching at the door, suddenly cried out:
+
+“Ah! see! here is madame returning with monsieur.”
+
+D’Artagnan looked out and at the corner of Rue Montmartre saw the hostess coming along hanging to the arm of an enormous Swiss, who tiptoed in his walk with a magnificent air which pleasantly reminded him of his old friend Porthos.
+
+“Is that monsieur?” said D’Artagnan to himself. “Oh! oh! he has grown a good deal, it seems to me.” And he sat down in the hall, choosing a conspicuous place.
+
+The hostess, as she entered, saw D’Artagnan and uttered a little cry, whereupon D’Artagnan, judging that he had been recognized, rose, ran to her and embraced her tenderly. The Swiss, with an air of stupefaction, looked at the hostess, who turned pale.
+
+“Ah, it is you, monsieur! What do you want of me?” she asked, in great distress.
+
+“Is monsieur your cousin? Is monsieur your brother?” said D’Artagnan, not in the slightest degree embarrassed in the role he was playing. And without waiting for her reply he threw himself into the arms of the Helvetian, who received him with great coldness.
+
+“Who is that man?” he asked.
+
+The hostess replied only by gasps.
+
+“Who is that Swiss?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Monsieur is going to marry me,” replied the hostess, between two gasps.
+
+“Your husband, then, is at last dead?”
+
+“How does that concern you?” replied the Swiss.
+
+“It concerns me much,” said D’Artagnan, “since you cannot marry madame without my consent and since — — ”
+
+“And since?” asked the Swiss.
+
+“And since — I do not give it,” said the musketeer.
+
+The Swiss became as purple as a peony. He wore his elegant uniform, D’Artagnan was wrapped in a sort of gray cloak; the Swiss was six feet high, D’Artagnan was hardly more than five; the Swiss considered himself on his own ground and regarded D’Artagnan as an intruder.
+
+“Will you go away from here?” demanded the Swiss, stamping violently, like a man who begins to be seriously angry.
+
+“I? By no means!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Some one must go for help,” said a lad, who could not comprehend that this little man should make a stand against that other man, who was so large.
+
+D’Artagnan, with a sudden accession of wrath, seized the lad by the ear and led him apart, with the injunction:
+
+“Stay you where you are and don’t you stir, or I will pull this ear off. As for you, illustrious descendant of William Tell, you will straightway get together your clothes which are in my room and which annoy me, and go out quickly to another lodging.”
+
+The Swiss began to laugh boisterously. “I go out?” he said. “And why?”
+
+“Ah, very well!” said D’Artagnan; “I see that you understand French. Come then, and take a turn with me and I will explain.”
+
+The hostess, who knew D’Artagnan’s skill with the sword, began to weep and tear her hair. D’Artagnan turned toward her, saying, “Then send him away, madame.”
+
+“Pooh!” said the Swiss, who had needed a little time to take in D’Artagnan’s proposal, “pooh! who are you, in the first place, to ask me to take a turn with you?”
+
+“I am lieutenant in his majesty’s musketeers,” said D’Artagnan, “and consequently your superior in everything; only, as the question now is not of rank, but of quarters — you know the custom — come and seek for yours; the first to return will recover his chamber.”
+
+D’Artagnan led away the Swiss in spite of lamentations on the part of the hostess, who in reality found her heart inclining toward her former lover, though she would not have been sorry to give a lesson to that haughty musketeer who had affronted her by the refusal of her hand.
+
+It was night when the two adversaries reached the field of battle. D’Artagnan politely begged the Swiss to yield to him the disputed chamber; the Swiss refused by shaking his head, and drew his sword.
+
+“Then you will lie here,” said D’Artagnan. “It is a wretched bed, but that is not my fault, and it is you who have chosen it.” With these words he drew in his turn and crossed swords with his adversary.
+
+He had to contend against a strong wrist, but his agility was superior to all force. The Swiss received two wounds and was not aware of it, by reason of the cold; but suddenly feebleness, occasioned by loss of blood, obliged him to sit down.
+
+“There!” said D’Artagnan, “what did I tell you? Fortunately, you won’t be laid up more than a fortnight. Remain here and I will send you your clothes by the boy. Good-by! Oh, by the way, you’d better take lodging in the Rue Montorgueil at the Chat Qui Pelote. You will be well fed there, if the hostess remains the same. Adieu.”
+
+Thereupon he returned in a lively mood to his room and sent to the Swiss the things that belonged to him. The boy found him sitting where D’Artagnan had left him, still overwhelmed by the coolness of his adversary.
+
+The boy, the hostess, and all the house had the same regard for D’Artagnan that one would have for Hercules should he return to earth to repeat his twelve labors.
+
+But when he was alone with the hostess he said: “Now, pretty Madeleine, you know the difference between a Swiss and a gentleman. As for you, you have acted like a barmaid. So much the worse for you, for by such conduct you have lost my esteem and my patronage. I have driven away the Swiss to humiliate you, but I shall lodge here no longer. I will not sleep where I must scorn. Ho, there, boy! Have my valise carried to the Muid d’Amour, Rue des Bourdonnais. Adieu, madame.”
+
+In saying these words D’Artagnan appeared at the same time majestic and grieved. The hostess threw herself at his feet, asked his pardon and held him back with a sweet violence. What more need be said? The spit turned, the stove roared, the pretty Madeleine wept; D’Artagnan felt himself invaded by hunger, cold and love. He pardoned, and having pardoned he remained.
+
+And this explains how D’Artagnan had quarters in the Rue Tiquetonne, at the Hotel de la Chevrette.
+
+D’Artagnan then returned home in thoughtful mood, finding a somewhat lively pleasure in carrying Mazarin’s bag of money and thinking of that fine diamond which he had once called his own and which he had seen on the minister’s finger that night.
+
+“Should that diamond ever fall into my hands again,” he reflected, “I would turn it at once into money; I would buy with the proceeds certain lands around my father’s chateau, which is a pretty place, well enough, but with no land to it at all, except a garden about the size of the Cemetery des Innocents; and I should wait in all my glory till some rich heiress, attracted by my good looks, rode along to marry me. Then I should like to have three sons; I should make the first a nobleman, like Athos; the second a good soldier, like Porthos; the third an excellent abbé, like Aramis. Faith! that would be a far better life than I lead now; but Monsieur Mazarin is a mean wretch, who won’t dispossess himself of his diamond in my favor.”
+
+On entering the Rue Tiquetonne he heard a tremendous noise and found a dense crowd near the house.
+
+“Oho!” said he, “is the hotel on fire?” On approaching the hotel of the Roe he found, however, that it was in front of the next house the mob was collected. The people were shouting and running about with torches. By the light of one of these torches D’Artagnan perceived men in uniform.
+
+He asked what was going on.
+
+He was told that twenty citizens, headed by one man, had attacked a carriage which was escorted by a troop of the cardinal’s bodyguard; but a reinforcement having come up, the assailants had been put to flight and the leader had taken refuge in the hotel next to his lodgings; the house was now being searched.
+
+In his youth D’Artagnan had often headed the bourgeoisie against the military, but he was cured of all those hot-headed propensities; besides, he had the cardinal’s hundred pistoles in his pocket, so he went into the hotel without a word. There he found Madeleine alarmed for his safety and anxious to tell him all the events of the evening, but he cut her short by ordering her to put his supper in his room and give him with it a bottle of good Burgundy.
+
+He took his key and candle and went upstairs to his bedroom. He had been contented, for the convenience of the house, to lodge in the fourth story; and truth obliges us even to confess that his chamber was just above the gutter and below the roof. His first care on entering it was to lock up in an old bureau with a new lock his bag of money, and then as soon as supper was ready he sent away the waiter who brought it up and sat down to table.
+
+Not to reflect on what had passed, as one might fancy. No, D’Artagnan considered that things are never well done when they are not reserved to their proper time. He was hungry; he supped, he went to bed. Neither was he one of those who think that the necessary silence of the night brings counsel with it. In the night he slept, but in the morning, refreshed and calm, he was inspired with his clearest views of everything. It was long since he had any reason for his morning’s inspiration, but he always slept all night long. At daybreak he awoke and took a turn around his room.
+
+“In ’43,” he said, “just before the death of the late cardinal, I received a letter from Athos. Where was I then? Let me see. Oh! at the siege of Besancon I was in the trenches. He told me — let me think — what was it? That he was living on a small estate — but where? I was just reading the name of the place when the wind blew my letter away, I suppose to the Spaniards; there’s no use in thinking any more about Athos. Let me see: with regard to Porthos, I received a letter from him, too. He invited me to a hunting party on his property in the month of September, 1646. Unluckily, as I was then in Bearn, on account of my father’s death, the letter followed me there. I had left Bearn when it arrived and I never received it until the month of April, 1647; and as the invitation was for September, 1646, I couldn’t accept it. Let me look for this letter; it must be with my title deeds.”
+
+D’Artagnan opened an old casket which stood in a corner of the room, and which was full of parchments referring to an estate during a period of two hundred years lost to his family. He uttered an exclamation of delight, for the large handwriting of Porthos was discernible, and underneath some lines traced by his worthy spouse.
+
+D’Artagnan eagerly searched for the heading of this letter; it was dated from the Chateau du Vallon.
+
+Porthos had forgotten that any other address was necessary; in his pride he fancied that every one must know the Chateau du Vallon.
+
+“Devil take the vain fellow,” said D’Artagnan. “However, I had better find him out first, since he can’t want money. Athos must have become an idiot by this time from drinking. Aramis must have worn himself to a shadow of his former self by constant genuflexion.”
+
+He cast his eyes again on the letter. There was a postscript:
+
+“I write by the same courier to our worthy friend Aramis in his convent.”
+
+“In his convent! What convent? There are about two hundred in Paris and three thousand in France; and then, perhaps, on entering the convent he changed his name. Ah! if I were but learned in theology I should recollect what it was he used to dispute about with the curate of Montdidier and the superior of the Jesuits, when we were at Crevecoeur; I should know what doctrine he leans to and I should glean from that what saint he has adopted as his patron.
+
+“Well, suppose I go back to the cardinal and ask him for a passport into all the convents one can find, even into the nunneries? It would be a curious idea, and maybe I should find my friend under the name of Achilles. But, no! I should lose myself in the cardinal’s opinion. Great people only thank you for doing the impossible; what’s possible, they say, they can effect themselves, and they are right. But let us wait a little and reflect. I received a letter from him, the dear fellow, in which he even asked me for some small service, which, in fact, I rendered him. Yes, yes; but now what did I do with that letter?”
+
+D’Artagnan thought a moment and then went to the wardrobe in which hung his old clothes. He looked for his doublet of the year 1648 and as he had orderly habits, he found it hanging on its nail. He felt in the pocket and drew from it a paper; it was the letter of Aramis:
+
+“Monsieur D’Artagnan: You know that I have had a quarrel with a certain gentleman, who has given me an appointment for this evening in the Place Royale. As I am of the church, and the affair might injure me if I should share it with any other than a sure friend like you, I write to beg that you will serve me as second.
+
+“You will enter by the Rue Neuve Sainte Catherine; under the second lamp on the right you will find your adversary. I shall be with mine under the third.
+
+“Wholly yours,
+
+“Aramis.”
+
+D’Artagnan tried to recall his remembrances. He had gone to the rendezvous, had encountered there the adversary indicated, whose name he had never known, had given him a pretty sword-stroke on the arm, then had gone toward Aramis, who at the same time came to meet him, having already finished his affair. “It is over,” Aramis had said. “I think I have killed the insolent fellow. But, dear friend, if you ever need me you know that I am entirely devoted to you.” Thereupon Aramis had given him a clasp of the hand and had disappeared under the arcades.
+
+So, then, he no more knew where Aramis was than where Athos and Porthos were, and the affair was becoming a matter of great perplexity, when he fancied he heard a pane of glass break in his room window. He thought directly of his bag and rushed from the inner room where he was sleeping. He was not mistaken; as he entered his bedroom a man was getting in by the window.
+
+“Ah! you scoundrel!” cried D’Artagnan, taking the man for a thief and seizing his sword.
+
+“Sir!” cried the man, “in the name of Heaven put your sword back into the sheath and don’t kill me unheard. I’m no thief, but an honest citizen, well off in the world, with a house of my own. My name is — ah! but surely you are Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
+
+“And thou — Planchet!” cried the lieutenant.
+
+“At your service, sir,” said Planchet, overwhelmed with joy; “if I were still capable of serving you.”
+
+“Perhaps so,” replied D’Artagnan. “But why the devil dost thou run about the tops of houses at seven o’clock of the morning in the month of January?”
+
+“Sir,” said Planchet, “you must know; but, perhaps you ought not to know — — ”
+
+“Tell us what,” returned D’Artagnan, “but first put a napkin against the window and draw the curtains.”
+
+“Sir,” said the prudent Planchet, “in the first place, are you on good terms with Monsieur de Rochefort?”
+
+“Perfectly; one of my dearest friends.”
+
+“Ah! so much the better!”
+
+“But what has De Rochefort to do with this manner you have of invading my room?”
+
+“Ah, sir! I must first tell you that Monsieur de Rochefort is — — ”
+
+Planchet hesitated.
+
+“Egad, I know where he is,” said D’Artagnan. “He’s in the Bastile.”
+
+“That is to say, he was there,” replied Planchet. “But in returning thither last night, when fortunately you did not accompany him, as his carriage was crossing the Rue de la Ferronnerie his guards insulted the people, who began to abuse them. The prisoner thought this a good opportunity for escape; he called out his name and cried for help. I was there. I heard the name of Rochefort. I remembered him well. I said in a loud voice that he was a prisoner, a friend of the Duc de Beaufort, who called for help. The people were infuriated; they stopped the horses and cut the escort to pieces, whilst I opened the doors of the carriage and Monsieur de Rochefort jumped out and soon was lost amongst the crowd. At this moment a patrol passed by. I was obliged to sound a retreat toward the Rue Tiquetonne; I was pursued and took refuge in the house next to this, where I have been concealed between two mattresses. This morning I ventured to run along the gutters and — — ”
+
+“Well,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “I am delighted that De Rochefort is free, but as for thee, if thou shouldst fall into the hands of the king’s servants they will hang thee without mercy. Nevertheless, I promise thee thou shalt be hidden here, though I risk by concealing thee neither more nor less than my lieutenancy, if it was found out that I gave one rebel an asylum.”
+
+“Ah! sir, you know well I would risk my life for you.”
+
+“Thou mayst add that thou hast risked it, Planchet. I have not forgotten all I owe thee. Sit down there and eat in security. I see thee cast expressive glances at the remains of my supper.”
+
+“Yes, sir; for all I’ve had since yesterday was a slice of bread and butter, with preserves on it. Although I don’t despise sweet things in proper time and place, I found the supper rather light.”
+
+“Poor fellow!” said D’Artagnan. “Well, come; set to.”
+
+“Ah, sir, you are going to save my life a second time!” cried Planchet.
+
+And he seated himself at the table and ate as he did in the merry days of the Rue des Fossoyeurs, whilst D’Artagnan walked to and fro and thought how he could make use of Planchet under present circumstances. While he turned this over in his mind Planchet did his best to make up for lost time at table. At last he uttered a sigh of satisfaction and paused, as if he had partially appeased his hunger.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan, who thought that it was now a convenient time to begin his interrogations, “dost thou know where Athos is?”
+
+“No, sir,” replied Planchet.
+
+“The devil thou dost not! Dost know where Porthos is?”
+
+“No — not at all.”
+
+“And Aramis?”
+
+“Not in the least.”
+
+“The devil! the devil! the devil!”
+
+“But, sir,” said Planchet, with a look of shrewdness, “I know where Bazin is.”
+
+“Where is he?”
+
+“At Notre Dame.”
+
+“What has he to do at Notre Dame?”
+
+“He is beadle.”
+
+“Bazin beadle at Notre Dame! He must know where his master is!”
+
+“Without a doubt he must.”
+
+D’Artagnan thought for a moment, then took his sword and put on his cloak to go out.
+
+“Sir,” said Planchet, in a mournful tone, “do you abandon me thus to my fate? Think, if I am found out here, the people of the house, who have not seen me enter it, will take me for a thief.”
+
+“True,” said D’Artagnan. “Let’s see. Canst thou speak any patois?”
+
+“I can do something better than that, sir, I can speak Flemish.”
+
+“Where the devil didst thou learn it?”
+
+“In Artois, where I fought for years. Listen, sir. Goeden morgen, mynheer, eth teen begeeray le weeten the ge sond heets omstand.”
+
+“Which means?”
+
+“Good-day, sir! I am anxious to know the state of your health.”
+
+“He calls that a language! But never mind, that will do capitally.”
+
+D’Artagnan opened the door and called out to a waiter to desire Madeleine to come upstairs.
+
+When the landlady made her appearance she expressed much astonishment at seeing Planchet.
+
+“My dear landlady,” said D’Artagnan, “I beg to introduce to you your brother, who is arrived from Flanders and whom I am going to take into my service.”
+
+“My brother?”
+
+“Wish your sister good-morning, Master Peter.”
+
+“Wilkom, suster,” said Planchet.
+
+“Goeden day, broder,” replied the astonished landlady.
+
+“This is the case,” said D’Artagnan; “this is your brother, Madeleine; you don’t know him perhaps, but I know him; he has arrived from Amsterdam. You must dress him up during my absence. When I return, which will be in about an hour, you must offer him to me as a servant, and upon your recommendation, though he doesn’t speak a word of French, I take him into my service. You understand?”
+
+“That is to say, I guess your wishes, and that is all that’s necessary,” said Madeleine.
+
+“You are a precious creature, my pretty hostess, and I am much obliged to you.”
+
+The next moment D’Artagnan was on his way to Notre Dame.
+
+Chapter VII. Touches upon the Strange Effects a Half-pistole may have.
+
+D’Artagnan, as he crossed the Pont Neuf, congratulated himself on having found Planchet again, for at that time an intelligent servant was essential to him; nor was he sorry that through Planchet and the situation which he held in Rue des Lombards, a connection with the bourgeoisie might be commenced, at that critical period when that class were preparing to make war with the court party. It was like having a spy in the enemy’s camp. In this frame of mind, grateful for the accidental meeting with Planchet, pleased with himself, D’Artagnan reached Notre Dame. He ran up the steps, entered the church, and addressing a verger who was sweeping the chapel, asked him if he knew Monsieur Bazin.
+
+“Monsieur Bazin, the beadle?” said the verger. “Yes. There he is, attending mass, in the chapel of the Virgin.”
+
+D’Artagnan nearly jumped for joy; he had despaired of finding Bazin, but now, he thought, since he held one end of the thread he would be pretty sure to reach the other end.
+
+He knelt down just opposite the chapel in order not to lose sight of his man; and as he had almost forgotten his prayers and had omitted to take a book with him, he made use of his time in gazing at Bazin.
+
+Bazin wore his dress, it may be observed, with equal dignity and saintly propriety. It was not difficult to understand that he had gained the crown of his ambition and that the silver-mounted wand he brandished was in his eyes as honorable a distinction as the marshal’s baton which Condé threw, or did not throw, into the enemy’s line of battle at Fribourg. His person had undergone a change, analogous to the change in his dress; his figure had grown rotund and, as it were, canonical. The striking points of his face were effaced; he had still a nose, but his cheeks, fattened out, each took a portion of it unto themselves; his chin had joined his throat; his eyes were swelled up with the puffiness of his cheeks; his hair, cut straight in holy guise, covered his forehead as far as his eyebrows.
+
+The officiating priest was just finishing mass whilst D’Artagnan was looking at Bazin; he pronounced the words of the holy Sacrament and retired, giving the benediction, which was received by the kneeling communicants, to the astonishment of D’Artagnan, who recognized in the priest the coadjutor* himself, the famous Jean Francois Gondy, who at that time, having a presentiment of the part he was to play, was beginning to court popularity by almsgiving. It was to this end that he performed from time to time some of those early masses which the common people, generally, alone attended.
+
+* A sacerdotal officer.
+
+D’Artagnan knelt as well as the rest, received his share of the benediction and made the sign of the cross; but when Bazin passed in his turn, with his eyes raised to Heaven and walking, in all humility, the very last, D’Artagnan pulled him by the hem of his robe.
+
+Bazin looked down and started, as if he had seen a serpent.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” he cried; “Vade retro Satanas!”
+
+“So, my dear Bazin!” said the officer, laughing, “this is the way you receive an old friend.”
+
+“Sir,” replied Bazin, “the true friends of a Christian are those who aid him in working out his salvation, not those who hinder him in doing so.”
+
+“I don’t understand you, Bazin; nor can I see how I can be a stumbling-block in the way of your salvation,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“You forget, sir, that you very nearly ruined forever that of my master; and that it was owing to you that he was very nearly being damned eternally for remaining a musketeer, whilst all the time his true vocation was the church.”
+
+“My dear Bazin, you ought to perceive,” said D’Artagnan, “from the place in which you find me, that I am greatly changed in everything. Age produces good sense, and, as I doubt not but that your master is on the road to salvation, I want you to tell me where he is, that he may help me to mine.”
+
+“Rather say, to take him back with you into the world. Fortunately, I don’t know where he is.”
+
+“How!” cried D’Artagnan; “you don’t know where Aramis is?”
+
+“Formerly,” replied Bazin, “Aramis was his name of perdition. By Aramis is meant Simara, which is the name of a demon. Happily for him he has ceased to bear that name.”
+
+“And therefore,” said D’Artagnan, resolved to be patient to the end, “it is not Aramis I seek, but the Abbé d’Herblay. Come, my dear Bazin, tell me where he is.”
+
+“Didn’t you hear me tell you, Monsieur d’Artagnan, that I don’t know where he is?”
+
+“Yes, certainly; but to that I answer that it is impossible.”
+
+“It is, nevertheless, the truth, monsieur — the pure truth, the truth of the good God.”
+
+D’Artagnan saw clearly that he would get nothing out of this man, who was evidently telling a falsehood in his pretended ignorance of the abode of Aramis, but whose lies were bold and decided.
+
+“Well, Bazin,” said D’Artagnan, “since you do not know where your master lives, let us speak of it no more; let us part good friends. Accept this half-pistole to drink to my health.”
+
+“I do not drink” — Bazin pushed away with dignity the officer’s hand — “’tis good only for the laity.”
+
+“Incorruptible!” murmured D’Artagnan; “I am unlucky;” and whilst he was lost in thought Bazin retreated toward the sacristy, and even there he could not think himself safe until he had shut and locked the door behind him.
+
+D’Artagnan was still in deep thought when some one touched him on the shoulder. He turned and was about to utter an exclamation of surprise when the other made to him a sign of silence.
+
+“You here, Rochefort?” he said, in a low voice.
+
+“Hush!” returned Rochefort. “Did you know that I am at liberty?”
+
+“I knew it from the fountain-head — from Planchet. And what brought you here?”
+
+“I came to thank God for my happy deliverance,” said Rochefort.
+
+“And nothing more? I suppose that is not all.”
+
+“To take my orders from the coadjutor and to see if we cannot wake up Mazarin a little.”
+
+“A bad plan; you’ll be shut up again in the Bastile.”
+
+“Oh, as to that, I shall take care, I assure you. The air, the fresh, free air is so good; besides,” and Rochefort drew a deep breath as he spoke, “I am going into the country to make a tour.”
+
+“Stop,” cried D’Artagnan; “I, too, am going.”
+
+“And if I may without impertinence ask — where are you going?”
+
+“To seek my friends.”
+
+“What friends?”
+
+“Those that you asked about yesterday.”
+
+“Athos, Porthos and Aramis — you are looking for them?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“On honor?”
+
+“What, then, is there surprising in that?”
+
+“Nothing. Queer, though. And in whose behalf are you looking for them?”
+
+“You are in no doubt on that score.”
+
+“That is true.”
+
+“Unfortunately, I have no idea where they are.”
+
+“And you have no way to get news of them? Wait a week and I myself will give you some.”
+
+“A week is too long. I must find them within three days.”
+
+“Three days are a short time and France is large.”
+
+“No matter; you know the word must; with that word great things are done.”
+
+“And when do you set out?”
+
+“I am now on my road.”
+
+“Good luck to you.”
+
+“And to you — a good journey.”
+
+“Perhaps we shall meet on our road.”
+
+“That is not probable.”
+
+“Who knows? Chance is so capricious. Adieu, till we meet again! Apropos, should Mazarin speak to you about me, tell him that I should have requested you to acquaint him that in a short time he will see whether I am, as he says, too old for action.”
+
+And Rochefort went away with one of those diabolical smiles which used formerly to make D’Artagnan shudder, but D’Artagnan could now see it without alarm, and smiling in his turn, with an expression of melancholy which the recollections called up by that smile could, perhaps, alone give to his countenance, he said:
+
+“Go, demon, do what thou wilt! It matters little now to me. There’s no second Constance in the world.”
+
+On his return to the cathedral, D’Artagnan saw Bazin, who was conversing with the sacristan. Bazin was making, with his spare little short arms, ridiculous gestures. D’Artagnan perceived that he was enforcing prudence with respect to himself.
+
+D’Artagnan slipped out of the cathedral and placed himself in ambuscade at the corner of the Rue des Canettes; it was impossible that Bazin should go out of the cathedral without his seeing him.
+
+In five minutes Bazin made his appearance, looking in every direction to see if he were observed, but he saw no one. Calmed by appearances he ventured to walk on through the Rue Notre Dame. Then D’Artagnan rushed out of his hiding place and arrived in time to see Bazin turn down the Rue de la Juiverie and enter, in the Rue de la Calandre, a respectable looking house; and this D’Artagnan felt no doubt was the habitation of the worthy beadle. Afraid of making any inquiries at this house, D’Artagnan entered a small tavern at the corner of the street and asked for a cup of hypocras. This beverage required a good half-hour to prepare. And D’Artagnan had time, therefore, to watch Bazin unsuspected.
+
+He perceived in the tavern a pert boy between twelve and fifteen years of age whom he fancied he had seen not twenty minutes before under the guise of a chorister. He questioned him, and as the boy had no interest in deceiving, D’Artagnan learned that he exercised, from six o’clock in the morning until nine, the office of chorister, and from nine o’clock till midnight that of a waiter in the tavern.
+
+Whilst he was talking to this lad a horse was brought to the door of Bazin’s house. It was saddled and bridled. Almost immediately Bazin came downstairs.
+
+“Look!” said the boy, “there’s our beadle, who is going a journey.”
+
+“And where is he going?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Forsooth, I don’t know.”
+
+“Half a pistole if you can find out,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“For me?” cried the boy, his eyes sparkling with joy, “if I can find out where Bazin is going? That is not difficult. You are not joking, are you?”
+
+“No, on the honor of an officer; there is the half-pistole;” and he showed him the seductive coin, but did not give it him.
+
+“I shall ask him.”
+
+“Just the very way not to know. Wait till he is set out and then, marry, come up, ask, and find out. The half-pistole is ready,” and he put it back again into his pocket.
+
+“I understand,” said the child, with that jeering smile which marks especially the “gamin de Paris.” “Well, we must wait.”
+
+They had not long to wait. Five minutes afterward Bazin set off on a full trot, urging on his horse by the blows of a parapluie, which he was in the habit of using instead of a riding whip.
+
+Scarcely had he turned the corner of the Rue de la Juiverie when the boy rushed after him like a bloodhound on full scent.
+
+Before ten minutes had elapsed the child returned.
+
+“Well!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Well!” answered the boy, “the thing is done.”
+
+“Where is he gone?”
+
+“The half-pistole is for me?”
+
+“Doubtless, answer me.”
+
+“I want to see it. Give it me, that I may see it is not false.”
+
+“There it is.”
+
+The child put the piece of money into his pocket.
+
+“And now, where is he gone?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“He is gone to Noisy.”
+
+“How dost thou know?”
+
+“Ah, faith! there was no great cunning necessary. I knew the horse he rode; it belonged to the butcher, who lets it out now and then to M. Bazin. Now I thought that the butcher would not let his horse out like that without knowing where it was going. And he answered ‘that Monsieur Bazin went to Noisy.’ ’Tis his custom. He goes two or three times a week.”
+
+“Dost thou know Noisy well?”
+
+“I think so, truly; my nurse lives there.”
+
+“Is there a convent at Noisy?”
+
+“Isn’t there a great and grand one — the convent of Jesuits?”
+
+“What is thy name?”
+
+“Friquet.”
+
+D’Artagnan wrote the child’s name in his tablets.
+
+“Please, sir,” said the boy, “do you think I can gain any more half-pistoles in any way?”
+
+“Perhaps,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+And having got out all he wanted, he paid for the hypocras, which he did not drink, and went quickly back to the Rue Tiquetonne.
+
+Chapter VIII. D’Artagnan, Going to a Distance to discover Aramis.
+
+On entering the hotel D’Artagnan saw a man sitting in a corner by the fire. It was Planchet, but so completely transformed, thanks to the old clothes that the departing husband had left behind, that D’Artagnan himself could hardly recognize him. Madeleine introduced him in presence of all the servants. Planchet addressed the officer with a fine Flemish phrase; the officer replied in words that belonged to no language at all, and the bargain was concluded; Madeleine’s brother entered D’Artagnan’s service.
+
+The plan adopted by D’Artagnan was soon perfected. He resolved not to reach Noisy in the day, for fear of being recognized; he had therefore plenty of time before him, for Noisy is only three or four leagues from Paris, on the road to Meaux.
+
+He began his day by breakfasting substantially — a bad beginning when one wants to employ the head, but an excellent precaution when one wants to work the body; and about two o’clock he had his two horses saddled, and followed by Planchet he quitted Paris by the Barriere de la Villete. A most active search was still prosecuted in the house near the Hotel de la Chevrette for the discovery of Planchet.
+
+At about a league and a half from the city, D’Artagnan, finding that in his impatience he had set out too soon, stopped to give the horses breathing time. The inn was full of disreputable looking people, who seemed as if they were on the point of commencing some nightly expedition. A man, wrapped in a cloak, appeared at the door, but seeing a stranger he beckoned to his companions, and two men who were drinking in the inn went out to speak to him.
+
+D’Artagnan, on his side, went up to the landlady, praised her wine — which was a horrible production from the country of Montreuil — and heard from her that there were only two houses of importance in the village; one of these belonged to the Archbishop of Paris, and was at that time the abode of his niece the Duchess of Longueville; the other was a convent of Jesuits and was the property — a by no means unusual circumstance — of these worthy fathers.
+
+At four o’clock D’Artagnan recommenced his journey. He proceeded slowly and in deep reverie. Planchet also was lost in thought, but the subject of their reflections was not the same.
+
+One word which their landlady had pronounced had given a particular turn to D’Artagnan’s deliberations; this was the name of Madame de Longueville.
+
+That name was indeed one to inspire imagination and produce thought. Madame de Longueville was one of the highest ladies in the realm; she was also one of the greatest beauties at court. She had formerly been suspected of an intimacy of too tender a nature with Coligny, who, for her sake, had been killed in a duel, in the Place Royale, by the Duc de Guise. She was now connected by bonds of a political nature with the Prince de Marsillac, the eldest son of the old Duc de Rochefoucauld, whom she was trying to inspire with an enmity toward the Duc de Condé, her brother-in-law, whom she now hated mortally.
+
+D’Artagnan thought of all these matters. He remembered how at the Louvre he had often seen, as she passed by him in the full radiance of her dazzling charms, the beautiful Madame de Longueville. He thought of Aramis, who, without possessing any greater advantages than himself, had formerly been the lover of Madame de Chevreuse, who had been to a former court what Madame de Longueville was in that day; and he wondered how it was that there should be in the world people who succeed in every wish, some in ambition, others in love, whilst others, either from chance, or from ill-luck, or from some natural defect or impediment, remain half-way upon the road toward fulfilment of their hopes and expectations.
+
+He was confessing to himself that he belonged to the latter unhappy class, when Planchet approached and said:
+
+“I will lay a wager, your honor, that you and I are thinking of the same thing.”
+
+“I doubt it, Planchet,” replied D’Artagnan, “but what are you thinking of?”
+
+“I am thinking, sir, of those desperate looking men who were drinking in the inn where we rested.”
+
+“Always cautious, Planchet.”
+
+“’Tis instinct, your honor.”
+
+“Well, what does your instinct tell you now?”
+
+“Sir, my instinct told me that those people were assembled there for some bad purpose; and I was reflecting on what my instinct had told me, in the darkest corner of the stable, when a man wrapped in a cloak and followed by two other men, came in.”
+
+“Ah ah!” said D’Artagnan, Planchet’s recital agreeing with his own observations. “Well?”
+
+“One of these two men said, ‘He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this evening, for I have seen his servant.’
+
+“‘Art thou sure?’ said the man in the cloak.
+
+“‘Yes, my prince.’”
+
+“My prince!” interrupted D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, ‘my prince;’ but listen. ‘If he is here’ — this is what the other man said — ‘let’s see decidedly what to do with him.’
+
+“‘What to do with him?’ answered the prince.
+
+“‘Yes, he’s not a man to allow himself to be taken anyhow; he’ll defend himself.’
+
+“‘Well, we must try to take him alive. Have you cords to bind him with and a gag to stop his mouth?’
+
+“‘We have.’
+
+“‘Remember that he will most likely be disguised as a horseman.’
+
+“‘Yes, yes, my lord; don’t be uneasy.’
+
+“‘Besides, I shall be there.’
+
+“‘You will assure us that justice — — ’
+
+“‘Yes, yes! I answer for all that,’ the prince said.
+
+“‘Well, then, we’ll do our best.’ Having said that, they went out of the stable.”
+
+“Well, what matters all that to us?” said D’Artagnan. “This is one of those attempts that happen every day.”
+
+“Are you sure that we are not its objects?”
+
+“We? Why?”
+
+“Just remember what they said. ‘I have seen his servant,’ said one, and that applies very well to me.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“‘He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this evening,’ said the other; and that applies very well to you.”
+
+“What else?”
+
+“Then the prince said: ‘Take notice that in all probability he will be disguised as a cavalier;’ which seems to me to leave no room for doubt, since you are dressed as a cavalier and not as an officer of musketeers. Now then, what do you say to that?”
+
+“Alas! my dear Planchet,” said D’Artagnan, sighing, “we are unfortunately no longer in those times in which princes would care to assassinate me. Those were good old days; never fear — these people owe us no grudge.”
+
+“Is your honor sure?”
+
+“I can answer for it they do not.”
+
+“Well, we won’t speak of it any more, then;” and Planchet took his place in D’Artagnan’s suite with that sublime confidence he had always had in his master, which even fifteen years of separation had not destroyed.
+
+They had traveled onward about half a mile when Planchet came close up to D’Artagnan.
+
+“Stop, sir, look yonder,” he whispered; “don’t you see in the darkness something pass by, like shadows? I fancy I hear horses’ feet.”
+
+“Impossible!” returned D’Artagnan. “The ground is soaking wet; yet I fancy, as thou sayest, that I see something.”
+
+At this moment the neighing of a horse struck his ear, coming through darkness and space.
+
+“There are men somewhere about, but that’s of no consequence to us,” said D’Artagnan; “let us ride onward.”
+
+At about half-past eight o’clock they reached the first houses in Noisy; every one was in bed and not a light was to be seen in the village. The obscurity was broken only now and then by the still darker lines of the roofs of houses. Here and there a dog barked behind a door or an affrighted cat fled precipitately from the midst of the pavement to take refuge behind a pile of faggots, from which retreat her eyes would shine like peridores. These were the only living creatures that seemed to inhabit the village.
+
+Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open space, rose a dark mass, separated from the rest of the world by two lanes and overshadowed in the front by enormous lime-trees. D’Artagnan looked attentively at the building.
+
+“This,” he said to Planchet, “must be the archbishop’s chateau, the abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but the convent, where is that?”
+
+“The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the village; I know it well.”
+
+“Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my horse’s girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light in any of the Jesuits’ windows.”
+
+In about five minutes Planchet returned.
+
+“Sir,” he said, “there is one window of the convent lighted up.”
+
+“Hem! If I were a ‘Frondeur,’” said D’Artagnan, “I should knock here and should be sure of a good supper. If I were a monk I should knock yonder and should have a good supper there, too; whereas, ’tis very possible that between the castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds, dying with hunger and thirst.”
+
+“Yes,” added Planchet, “like the famous ass of Buridan. Shall I knock?”
+
+“Hush!” replied D’Artagnan; “the light no longer burns in yonder window.”
+
+“Do you hear nothing?” whispered Planchet.
+
+“What is that noise?”
+
+There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two troops of horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth from each of the lanes which encompassed the house and surrounded D’Artagnan and Planchet.
+
+“Heyday!” cried D’Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking refuge behind his horse; “are you not mistaken? is it really for us that you mean your attack?”
+
+“Here he is! we have him!” cried the horsemen, rushing on D’Artagnan with naked swords.
+
+“Don’t let him escape!” said a loud voice.
+
+“No, my lord; be assured we shall not.”
+
+D’Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the conversation.
+
+“Halloo, gentlemen!” he called out in his Gascon accent, “what do you want? what do you demand?”
+
+“That thou shalt soon know,” shouted a chorus of horsemen.
+
+“Stop, stop!” cried he whom they had addressed as “my lord;” “’tis not his voice.”
+
+“Ah! just so, gentlemen! pray, do people get into a passion at random at Noisy? Take care, for I warn you that the first man that comes within the length of my sword — and my sword is long — I rip him up.”
+
+The chieftain of the party drew near.
+
+“What are you doing here?” he asked in a lofty tone, as that of one accustomed to command.
+
+“And you — what are you doing here?” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“Be civil, or I shall beat you; for although one may not choose to proclaim oneself, one insists on respect suitable to one’s rank.”
+
+“You don’t choose to discover yourself, because you are the leader of an ambuscade,” returned D’Artagnan; “but with regard to myself, who am traveling quietly with my own servant, I have not the same reasons as you have to conceal my name.”
+
+“Enough! enough! what is your name?”
+
+“I shall tell you my name in order that you may know where to find me, my lord, or my prince, as it may suit you best to be called,” said our Gascon, who did not choose to seem to yield to a threat. “Do you know Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Lieutenant in the king’s musketeers?” said the voice; “you are Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
+
+“I am.”
+
+“Then you came here to defend him?”
+
+“Him? whom?”
+
+“The man we are seeking.”
+
+“It seems,” said D’Artagnan, “that whilst I thought I was coming to Noisy I have entered, without suspecting it, into the kingdom of mysteries.”
+
+“Come,” replied the same lofty tone, “answer! Are you waiting for him underneath these windows? Did you come to Noisy to defend him?”
+
+“I am waiting for no one,” replied D’Artagnan, who was beginning to be angry. “I propose to defend no one but myself, and I shall defend myself vigorously, I give you warning.”
+
+“Very well,” said the voice; “go away from here and leave the place to us.”
+
+“Go away from here!” said D’Artagnan, whose purposes were in conflict with that order, “that is not so easy, since I am on the point of falling, and my horse, too, through fatigue; unless, indeed, you are disposed to offer me a supper and a bed in the neighborhood.”
+
+“Rascal!”
+
+“Eh! monsieur!” said D’Artagnan, “I beg you will have a care what you say; for if you utter another word like that, be you marquis, duke, prince or king, I will thrust it down your throat! do you hear?”
+
+“Well, well,” rejoined the leader, “there’s no doubt ’tis a Gascon who is speaking, and therefore not the man we are looking for. Our blow has failed for to-night; let us withdraw. We shall meet again, Master d’Artagnan,” continued the leader, raising his voice.
+
+“Yes, but never with the same advantages,” said D’Artagnan, in a tone of raillery; “for when you meet me again you will perhaps be alone and there will be daylight.”
+
+“Very good, very good,” said the voice. “En route, gentlemen.”
+
+And the troop, grumbling angrily, disappeared in the darkness and took the road to Paris. D’Artagnan and Planchet remained for some moments still on the defensive; then, as the noise of the horsemen became more and more distant, they sheathed their swords.
+
+“Thou seest, simpleton,” said D’Artagnan to his servant, “that they wished no harm to us.”
+
+“But to whom, then?”
+
+“I’faith! I neither know nor care. What I do care for now, is to make my way into the Jesuits’ convent; so to horse and let us knock at their door. Happen what will, the devil take them, they can’t eat us.”
+
+And he mounted his horse. Planchet had just done the same when an unexpected weight fell upon the back of the horse, which sank down.
+
+“Hey! your honor!” cried Planchet, “I’ve a man behind me.”
+
+D’Artagnan turned around and plainly saw two human forms on Planchet’s horse.
+
+“’Tis then the devil that pursues!” he cried; drawing his sword and preparing to attack the new foe.
+
+“No, no, dear D’Artagnan,” said the figure, “’tis not the devil, ’tis Aramis; gallop fast, Planchet, and when you come to the end of the village turn swiftly to the left.”
+
+And Planchet, with Aramis behind him, set off at full gallop, followed by D’Artagnan, who began to think he was in the merry maze of some fantastic dream.
+
+Chapter IX. The Abbé D’Herblay.
+
+At the extremity of the village Planchet turned to the left in obedience to the orders of Aramis, and stopped underneath the window which had light in it. Aramis alighted and clapped his hands three times. Immediately the window was opened and a ladder of rope was let down from it.
+
+“My friend,” said Aramis, “if you like to ascend I shall be delighted to receive you.”
+
+“Ah,” said D’Artagnan, “is that the way you return to your apartment?”
+
+“After nine at night, pardieu!” said Aramis, “the rule of the convent is very severe.”
+
+“Pardon me, my dear friend,” said D’Artagnan, “I think you said ‘pardieu!’”
+
+“Do you think so?” said Aramis, smiling; “it is possible. You have no idea, my dear fellow, how one acquires bad habits in these cursed convents, or what evil ways all these men of the church have, with whom I am obliged to live. But will you not go up?”
+
+“Pass on before me, I beg of you.”
+
+“As the late cardinal used to say to the late king, ‘only to show you the way, sire.’” And Aramis ascended the ladder quickly and reached the window in an instant.
+
+D’Artagnan followed, but less nimbly, showing plainly that this mode of ascent was not one to which he was accustomed.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” said Aramis, noticing his awkwardness; “if I had known that I was to have the honor of your visit I should have procured the gardener’s ladder; but for me alone this is good enough.”
+
+“Sir,” said Planchet when he saw D’Artagnan on the summit of the ladder, “this way is easy for Monsieur Aramis and even for you; in case of necessity I might also climb up, but my two horses cannot mount the ladder.”
+
+“Take them to yonder shed, my friend,” said Aramis, pointing to a low building on the plain; “there you will find hay and straw for them; then come back here and clap your hands three times, and we will give you wine and food. Marry, forsooth, people don’t die of hunger here.”
+
+And Aramis, drawing in the ladder, closed the window. D’Artagnan then looked around attentively.
+
+Never was there an apartment at the same time more warlike and more elegant. At each corner were arranged trophies, presenting to view swords of all sorts, and on the walls hung four great pictures representing in their ordinary military costume the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Cardinal de Richelieu, the Cardinal de la Valette, and the Archbishop of Bordeaux. Exteriorly, nothing in the room showed that it was the habitation of an abbé. The hangings were of damask, the carpets from Alencon, and the bed, especially, had more the look of a fine lady’s couch, with its trimmings of fine lace and its embroidered counterpane, than that of a man who had made a vow that he would endeavor to gain Heaven by fasting and mortification.
+
+“You are examining my den,” said Aramis. “Ah, my dear fellow, excuse me; I am lodged like a Chartreux. But what are you looking for?”
+
+“I am looking for the person who let down the ladder. I see no one and yet the ladder didn’t come down of itself.”
+
+“No, it is Bazin.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“But,” continued Aramis, “Bazin is a well trained servant, and seeing that I was not alone he discreetly retired. Sit down, my dear friend, and let us talk.” And Aramis pushed forward a large easy-chair, in which D’Artagnan stretched himself out.
+
+“In the first place, you will sup with me, will you not?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Yes, if you really wish it,” said D’Artagnan, “and even with great pleasure, I confess; the journey has given me a devil of an appetite.”
+
+“Ah, my poor friend!” said Aramis, “you will find meagre fare; you were not expected.”
+
+“Am I then threatened with the omelet of Crevecoeur?”
+
+“Oh, let us hope,” said Aramis, “that with the help of God and of Bazin we shall find something better than that in the larder of the worthy Jesuit fathers. Bazin, my friend, come here.”
+
+The door opened and Bazin entered; on perceiving the musketeer he uttered an exclamation that was almost a cry of despair.
+
+“My dear Bazin,” said D’Artagnan, “I am delighted to see with what wonderful composure you can tell a lie even in church!”
+
+“Sir,” replied Bazin, “I have been taught by the good Jesuit fathers that it is permitted to tell a falsehood when it is told in a good cause.”
+
+“So far well,” said Aramis; “we are dying of hunger. Serve us up the best supper you can, and especially give us some good wine.”
+
+Bazin bowed low, sighed, and left the room.
+
+“Now we are alone, dear Aramis,” said D’Artagnan, “tell me how the devil you managed to alight upon the back of Planchet’s horse.”
+
+“I’faith!” answered Aramis, “as you see, from Heaven.”
+
+“From Heaven,” replied D’Artagnan, shaking his head; “you have no more the appearance of coming from thence than you have of going there.”
+
+“My friend,” said Aramis, with a look of imbecility on his face which D’Artagnan had never observed whilst he was in the musketeers, “if I did not come from Heaven, at least I was leaving Paradise, which is almost the same.”
+
+“Here, then, is a puzzle for the learned,” observed D’Artagnan, “until now they have never been able to agree as to the situation of Paradise; some place it on Mount Ararat, others between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates; it seems that they have been looking very far away for it, while it was actually very near. Paradise is at Noisy le Sec, upon the site of the archbishop’s chateau. People do not go out from it by the door, but by the window; one doesn’t descend here by the marble steps of a peristyle, but by the branches of a lime-tree; and the angel with a flaming sword who guards this elysium seems to have changed his celestial name of Gabriel into that of the more terrestrial one of the Prince de Marsillac.”
+
+Aramis burst into a fit of laughter.
+
+“You were always a merry companion, my dear D’Artagnan,” he said, “and your witty Gascon fancy has not deserted you. Yes, there is something in what you say; nevertheless, do not believe that it is Madame de Longueville with whom I am in love.”
+
+“A plague on’t! I shall not do so. After having been so long in love with Madame de Chevreuse, you would hardly lay your heart at the feet of her mortal enemy!”
+
+“Yes,” replied Aramis, with an absent air; “yes, that poor duchess! I once loved her much, and to do her justice, she was very useful to us. Eventually she was obliged to leave France. He was a relentless enemy, that damned cardinal,” continued Aramis, glancing at the portrait of the old minister. “He had even given orders to arrest her and would have cut off her head had she not escaped with her waiting-maid — poor Kitty! I have heard that she met with a strange adventure in I don’t know what village, with I don’t know what curé, of whom she asked hospitality and who, having but one chamber, and taking her for a cavalier, offered to share it with her. For she had a wonderful way of dressing as a man, that dear Marie; I know only one other woman who can do it as well. So they made this song about her: ‘Laboissiere, dis moi.’ You know it, don’t you?”
+
+“No, sing it, please.”
+
+Aramis immediately complied, and sang the song in a very lively manner.
+
+“Bravo!” cried D’Artagnan, “you sing charmingly, dear Aramis. I do not perceive that singing masses has spoiled your voice.”
+
+“My dear D’Artagnan,” replied Aramis, “you understand, when I was a musketeer I mounted guard as seldom as I could; now when I am an abbé I say as few masses as I can. But to return to our duchess.”
+
+“Which — the Duchess de Chevreuse or the Duchess de Longueville?”
+
+“Have I not already told you that there is nothing between me and the Duchess de Longueville? Little flirtations, perhaps, and that’s all. No, I spoke of the Duchess de Chevreuse; did you see her after her return from Brussels, after the king’s death?”
+
+“Yes, she is still beautiful.”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “I saw her also at that time. I gave her good advice, by which she did not profit. I ventured to tell her that Mazarin was the lover of Anne of Austria. She wouldn’t believe me, saying that she knew Anne of Austria, who was too proud to love such a worthless coxcomb. After that she plunged into the cabal headed by the Duke of Beaufort; and the ‘coxcomb’ arrested De Beaufort and banished Madame de Chevreuse.”
+
+“You know,” resumed D’Artagnan, “that she has had leave to return to France?”
+
+“Yes she is come back and is going to commit some fresh folly or another.”
+
+“Oh, but this time perhaps she will follow your advice.”
+
+“Oh, this time,” returned Aramis, “I haven’t seen her; she is much changed.”
+
+“In that respect unlike you, my dear Aramis, for you are still the same; you have still your beautiful dark hair, still your elegant figure, still your feminine hands, which are admirably suited to a prelate.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Aramis, “I am extremely careful of my appearance. Do you know that I am growing old? I am nearly thirty-seven.”
+
+“Mind, Aramis” — D’Artagnan smiled as he spoke — “since we are together again, let us agree on one point: what age shall we be in future?”
+
+“How?”
+
+“Formerly I was your junior by two or three years, and if I am not mistaken I am turned forty years old.”
+
+“Indeed! Then ’tis I who am mistaken, for you have always been a good chronologist. By your reckoning I must be forty-three at least. The devil I am! Don’t let it out at the Hotel Rambouillet; it would ruin me,” replied the abbé.
+
+“Don’t be afraid,” said D’Artagnan. “I never go there.”
+
+“Why, what in the world,” cried Aramis, “is that animal Bazin doing? Bazin! Hurry up there, you rascal; we are mad with hunger and thirst!”
+
+Bazin entered at that moment carrying a bottle in each hand.
+
+“At last,” said Aramis, “we are ready, are we?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur, quite ready,” said Bazin; “but it took me some time to bring up all the — — ”
+
+“Because you always think you have on your shoulders your beadle’s robe, and spend all your time reading your breviary. But I give you warning that if in polishing your chapel utensils you forget how to brighten up my sword, I will make a great fire of your blessed images and will see that you are roasted on it.”
+
+Bazin, scandalized, made a sign of the cross with the bottle in his hand. D’Artagnan, more surprised than ever at the tone and manners of the Abbé d’Herblay, which contrasted so strongly with those of the Musketeer Aramis, remained staring with wide-open eyes at the face of his friend.
+
+Bazin quickly covered the table with a damask cloth and arranged upon it so many things, gilded, perfumed, appetizing, that D’Artagnan was quite overcome.
+
+“But you expected some one then?” asked the officer.
+
+“Oh,” said Aramis, “I always try to be prepared; and then I knew you were seeking me.”
+
+“From whom?”
+
+“From Master Bazin, to be sure; he took you for the devil, my dear fellow, and hastened to warn me of the danger that threatened my soul if I should meet again a companion so wicked as an officer of musketeers.”
+
+“Oh, monsieur!” said Bazin, clasping his hands supplicatingly.
+
+“Come, no hypocrisy! you know that I don’t like it. You will do much better to open the window and let down some bread, a chicken and a bottle of wine to your friend Planchet, who has been this last hour killing himself clapping his hands.”
+
+Planchet, in fact, had bedded and fed his horses, and then coming back under the window had repeated two or three times the signal agreed upon.
+
+Bazin obeyed, fastened to the end of a cord the three articles designated and let them down to Planchet, who then went satisfied to his shed.
+
+“Now to supper,” said Aramis.
+
+The two friends sat down and Aramis began to cut up fowls, partridges and hams with admirable skill.
+
+“The deuce!” cried D’Artagnan; “do you live in this way always?”
+
+“Yes, pretty well. The coadjutor has given me dispensations from fasting on the jours maigres, on account of my health; then I have engaged as my cook the cook who lived with Lafollone — you know the man I mean? — the friend of the cardinal, and the famous epicure whose grace after dinner used to be, ‘Good Lord, do me the favor to cause me to digest what I have eaten.’”
+
+“Nevertheless he died of indigestion, in spite of his grace,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“What can you expect?” replied Aramis, in a tone of resignation. “Every man that’s born must fulfil his destiny.”
+
+“If it be not an indelicate question,” resumed D’Artagnan, “have you grown rich?”
+
+“Oh, Heaven! no. I make about twelve thousand francs a year, without counting a little benefice of a thousand crowns the prince gave me.”
+
+“And how do you make your twelve thousand francs? By your poems?”
+
+“No, I have given up poetry, except now and then to write a drinking song, some gay sonnet or some innocent epigram; I compose sermons, my friend.”
+
+“What! sermons? Do you preach them?”
+
+“No; I sell them to those of my cloth who wish to become great orators.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! and you have not been tempted by the hopes of reputation yourself?”
+
+“I should, my dear D’Artagnan, have been so, but nature said ‘No.’ When I am in the pulpit, if by chance a pretty woman looks at me, I look at her again: if she smiles, I smile too. Then I speak at random; instead of preaching about the torments of hell I talk of the joys of Paradise. An event took place in the Church of St. Louis au Marais. A gentleman laughed in my face. I stopped short to tell him that he was a fool; the congregation went out to get stones to stone me with, but whilst they were away I found means to conciliate the priests who were present, so that my foe was pelted instead of me. ’Tis true that he came the next morning to my house, thinking that he had to do with an abbé — like all other abbés.”
+
+“And what was the end of the affair?”
+
+“We met in the Place Royale — Egad! you know about it.”
+
+“Was I not your second?” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“You were; you know how I settled the matter.”
+
+“Did he die?”
+
+“I don’t know. But, at all events, I gave him absolution in articulo mortis. ’Tis enough to kill the body, without killing the soul.”
+
+Bazin made a despairing sign which meant that while perhaps he approved the moral he altogether disapproved the tone in which it was uttered.
+
+“Bazin, my friend,” said Aramis, “you don’t seem to be aware that I can see you in that mirror, and you forget that once for all I have forbidden all signs of approbation or disapprobation. You will do me the favor to bring us some Spanish wine and then to withdraw. Besides, my friend D’Artagnan has something to say to me privately, have you not, D’Artagnan?”
+
+D’Artagnan nodded his head and Bazin retired, after placing on the table the Spanish wine.
+
+The two friends, left alone, remained silent, face to face. Aramis seemed to await a comfortable digestion; D’Artagnan, to be preparing his exordium. Each of them, when the other was not looking, hazarded a sly glance. It was Aramis who broke the silence.
+
+“What are you thinking of, D’Artagnan?” he began.
+
+“I was thinking, my dear old friend, that when you were a musketeer you turned your thoughts incessantly to the church, and now that you are an abbé you are perpetually longing to be once more a musketeer.”
+
+“’Tis true; man, as you know,” said Aramis, “is a strange animal, made up of contradictions. Since I became an abbé I dream of nothing but battles.”
+
+“That is apparent in your surroundings; you have rapiers here of every form and to suit the most exacting taste. Do you still fence well?”
+
+“I — I fence as well as you did in the old time — better still, perhaps; I do nothing else all day.”
+
+“And with whom?”
+
+“With an excellent master-at-arms that we have here.”
+
+“What! here?”
+
+“Yes, here, in this convent, my dear fellow. There is everything in a Jesuit convent.”
+
+“Then you would have killed Monsieur de Marsillac if he had come alone to attack you, instead of at the head of twenty men?”
+
+“Undoubtedly,” said Aramis, “and even at the head of his twenty men, if I could have drawn without being recognized.”
+
+“God pardon me!” said D’Artagnan to himself, “I believe he has become more Gascon than I am!” Then aloud: “Well, my dear Aramis, do you ask me why I came to seek you?”
+
+“No, I have not asked you that,” said Aramis, with his subtle manner; “but I have expected you to tell me.”
+
+“Well, I sought you for the single purpose of offering you a chance to kill Monsieur de Marsillac whenever you please, prince though he is.”
+
+“Hold on! wait!” said Aramis; “that is an idea!”
+
+“Of which I invite you to take advantage, my friend. Let us see; with your thousand crowns from the abbey and the twelve thousand francs you make by selling sermons, are you rich? Answer frankly.”
+
+“I? I am as poor as Job, and were you to search my pockets and my boxes I don’t believe you would find a hundred pistoles.”
+
+“Peste! a hundred pistoles!” said D’Artagnan to himself; “he calls that being as poor as Job! If I had them I should think myself as rich as Croesus.” Then aloud: “Are you ambitious?”
+
+“As Enceladus.”
+
+“Well, my friend, I bring you the means of becoming rich, powerful, and free to do whatever you wish.”
+
+The shadow of a cloud passed over Aramis’s face as quickly as that which in August passes over the field of grain; but quick as it was, it did not escape D’Artagnan’s observation.
+
+“Speak on,” said Aramis.
+
+“One question first. Do you take any interest in politics?”
+
+A gleam of light shone in Aramis’s eyes, as brief as the shadow that had passed over his face, but not so brief but that it was seen by D’Artagnan.
+
+“No,” Aramis replied.
+
+“Then proposals from any quarter will be agreeable to you, since for the moment you have no master but God?”
+
+“It is possible.”
+
+“Have you, my dear Aramis, thought sometimes of those happy, happy, happy days of youth we passed laughing, drinking, and fighting each other for play?”
+
+“Certainly, and more than once regretted them; it was indeed a glorious time.”
+
+“Well, those splendidly wild days may chance to come again; I am commissioned to find out my companions and I began by you, who were the very soul of our society.”
+
+Aramis bowed, rather with respect than pleasure at the compliment.
+
+“To meddle in politics,” he exclaimed, in a languid voice, leaning back in his easy-chair. “Ah! dear D’Artagnan! see how regularly I live and how easy I am here. We have experienced the ingratitude of ‘the great,’ as you well know.”
+
+“’Tis true,” replied D’Artagnan. “Yet the great sometimes repent of their ingratitude.”
+
+“In that case it would be quite another thing. Come! let’s be merciful to every sinner! Besides, you are right in another respect, which is in thinking that if we were to meddle in politics there could not be a better time than the present.”
+
+“How can you know that? You who never interest yourself in politics?”
+
+“Ah! without caring about them myself, I live among those who are much occupied in them. Poet as I am, I am intimate with Sarazin, who is devoted to the Prince de Conti, and with Monsieur de Bois-Robert, who, since the death of Cardinal Richelieu, is of all parties or any party; so that political discussions have not altogether been uninteresting to me.”
+
+“I have no doubt of it,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Now, my dear friend, look upon all I tell you as merely the statement of a monk — of a man who resembles an echo — repeating simply what he hears. I understand that Mazarin is at this very moment extremely uneasy as to the state of affairs; that his orders are not respected like those of our former bugbear, the deceased cardinal, whose portrait as you see hangs yonder — for whatever may be thought of him, it must be allowed that Richelieu was great.”
+
+“I will not contradict you there,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“My first impressions were favorable to the minister; I said to myself that a minister is never loved, but that with the genius this one was said to have he would eventually triumph over his enemies and would make himself feared, which in my opinion is much more to be desired than to be loved — — ”
+
+D’Artagnan made a sign with his head which indicated that he entirely approved that doubtful maxim.
+
+“This, then,” continued Aramis, “was my first opinion; but as I am very ignorant in matters of this kind and as the humility which I profess obliges me not to rest on my own judgment, but to ask the opinion of others, I have inquired — Eh! — my friend — — ”
+
+Aramis paused.
+
+“Well? what?” asked his friend.
+
+“Well, I must mortify myself. I must confess that I was mistaken. Monsieur de Mazarin is not a man of genius, as I thought, he is a man of no origin — once a servant of Cardinal Bentivoglio, and he got on by intrigue. He is an upstart, a man of no name, who will only be the tool of a party in France. He will amass wealth, he will injure the king’s revenue and pay to himself the pensions which Richelieu paid to others. He is neither a gentleman in manner nor in feeling, but a sort of buffoon, a punchinello, a pantaloon. Do you know him? I do not.”
+
+“Hem!” said D’Artagnan, “there is some truth in what you say.”
+
+“Ah! it fills me with pride to find that, thanks to a common sort of penetration with which I am endowed, I am approved by a man like you, fresh from the court.”
+
+“But you speak of him, not of his party, his resources.”
+
+“It is true — the queen is for him.”
+
+“Something in his favor.”
+
+“But he will never have the king.”
+
+“A mere child.”
+
+“A child who will be of age in four years. Then he has neither the parliament nor the people with him — they represent the wealth of the country; nor the nobles nor the princes, who are the military power of France.”
+
+D’Artagnan scratched his ear. He was forced to confess to himself that this reasoning was not only comprehensive, but just.
+
+“You see, my poor friend, that I am sometimes bereft of my ordinary thoughtfulness; perhaps I am wrong in speaking thus to you, who have evidently a leaning to Mazarin.”
+
+“I!” cried D’Artagnan, “not in the least.”
+
+“You spoke of a mission.”
+
+“Did I? I was wrong then, no, I said what you say — there is a crisis at hand. Well! let’s fly the feather before the wind; let us join with that side to which the wind will carry it and resume our adventurous life. We were once four valiant knights — four hearts fondly united; let us unite again, not our hearts, which have never been severed, but our courage and our fortunes. Here’s a good opportunity for getting something better than a diamond.”
+
+“You are right, D’Artagnan; I held a similar project, but as I had not nor ever shall have your fruitful, vigorous imagination, the idea was suggested to me. Every one nowadays wants auxiliaries; propositions have been made to me and I confess to you frankly that the coadjutor has made me speak out.”
+
+“Monsieur de Gondy! the cardinal’s enemy?”
+
+“No; the king’s friend,” said Aramis; “the king’s friend, you understand. Well, it is a question of serving the king, the gentleman’s duty.”
+
+“But the king is with Mazarin.”
+
+“He is, but not willingly; in appearance, not heart; and that is exactly the snare the king’s enemies are preparing for the poor child.”
+
+“Ah! but this is, indeed, civil war which you propose to me, dear Aramis.”
+
+“War for the king.”
+
+“Yet the king will be at the head of the army on Mazarin’s side.”
+
+“But his heart will be in the army commanded by the Duc de Beaufort.”
+
+“Monsieur de Beaufort? He is at Vincennes.”
+
+“Did I say Monsieur de Beaufort? Monsieur de Beaufort or another. Monsieur de Beaufort or Monsieur le Prince.”
+
+“But Monsieur le Prince is to set out for the army; he is entirely devoted to the cardinal.”
+
+“Oh oh!” said Aramis, “there are questions between them at this very moment. And besides, if it is not the prince, then Monsieur de Gondy — — ”
+
+“But Monsieur de Gondy is to be made a cardinal; they are soliciting the hat for him.”
+
+“And are there no cardinals that can fight? Come now, recall the four cardinals that at the head of armies have equalled Monsieur de Guebriant and Monsieur de Gassion.”
+
+“But a humpbacked general!
+
+“Under the cuirass the hump will not be seen. Besides, remember that Alexander was lame and Hannibal had but one eye.”
+
+“Do you see any great advantage in adhering to this party?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“I foresee in it the aid of powerful princes.”
+
+“With the enmity of the government.”
+
+“Counteracted by parliament and insurrections.”
+
+“That may be done if they can separate the king from his mother.”
+
+“That may be done,” said Aramis.
+
+“Never!” cried D’Artagnan. “You, Aramis, know Anne of Austria better than I do. Do you think she will ever forget that her son is her safeguard, her shield, the pledge for her dignity, for her fortune and her life? Should she forsake Mazarin she must join her son and go over to the princes’ side; but you know better than I do that there are certain reasons why she can never abandon Mazarin.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right,” said Aramis, thoughtfully; “therefore I shall not pledge myself.”
+
+“To them or to us, do you mean, Aramis?”
+
+“To no one. I am a priest,” resumed Aramis. “What have I to do with politics? I am not obliged to read any breviary. I have a jolly little circle of witty abbés and pretty women; everything goes on smoothly, so certainly, dear friend, I shall not meddle in politics.”
+
+“Well, listen, my dear Aramis,” said D’Artagnan; “your philosophy convinces me, on my honor. I don’t know what devil of an insect stung me and made me ambitious. I have a post by which I live; at the death of Monsieur de Tréville, who is old, I may be a captain, which is a very snug berth for a once penniless Gascon. Instead of running after adventures I shall accept an invitation from Porthos; I shall go and shoot on his estate. You know he has estates — Porthos?”
+
+“I should think so, indeed. Ten leagues of wood, of marsh land and valleys; he is lord of the hill and the plain and is now carrying on a suit for his feudal rights against the Bishop of Noyon!”
+
+“Good,” said D’Artagnan to himself. “That’s what I wanted to know. Porthos is in Picardy.”
+
+Then aloud:
+
+“And he has taken his ancient name of Vallon?”
+
+“To which he adds that of Bracieux, an estate which has been a barony, by my troth.”
+
+“So that Porthos will be a baron.”
+
+“I don’t doubt it. The ‘Baroness Porthos’ will sound particularly charming.”
+
+And the two friends began to laugh.
+
+“So,” D’Artagnan resumed, “you will not become a partisan of Mazarin’s?”
+
+“Nor you of the Prince de Condé?”
+
+“No, let us belong to no party, but remain friends; let us be neither Cardinalists nor Frondists.”
+
+“Adieu, then.” And D’Artagnan poured out a glass of wine.
+
+“To old times,” he said.
+
+“Yes,” returned Aramis. “Unhappily, those times are past.”
+
+“Nonsense! They will return,” said D’Artagnan. “At all events, if you want me, remember the Rue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette.”
+
+“And I shall be at the convent of Jesuits; from six in the morning to eight at night come by the door. From eight in the evening until six in the morning come in by the window.”
+
+“Adieu, dear friend.”
+
+“Oh, I can’t let you go so! I will go with you.” And he took his sword and cloak.
+
+“He wants to be sure that I go away,” said D’Artagnan to himself.
+
+Aramis whistled for Bazin, but Bazin was asleep in the ante-chamber, and Aramis was obliged to shake him by the ear to awake him.
+
+Bazin stretched his arms, rubbed his eyes, and tried to go to sleep again.
+
+“Come, come, sleepy head; quick, the ladder!”
+
+“But,” said Bazin, yawning portentously, “the ladder is still at the window.”
+
+“The other one, the gardener’s. Didn’t you see that Monsieur d’Artagnan mounted with difficulty? It will be even more difficult to descend.”
+
+D’Artagnan was about to assure Aramis that he could descend easily, when an idea came into his head which silenced him.
+
+Bazin uttered a profound sigh and went out to look for the ladder. Presently a good, solid, wooden ladder was placed against the window.
+
+“Now then,” said D’Artagnan, “this is something like; this is a means of communication. A woman could go up a ladder like that.”
+
+Aramis’s searching look seemed to seek his friend’s thought even at the bottom of his heart, but D’Artagnan sustained the inquisition with an air of admirable simplicity. Besides, at that moment he put his foot on the first step of the ladder and began his descent. In a moment he was on the ground. Bazin remained at the window.
+
+“Stay there,” said Aramis; “I shall return immediately.”
+
+The two friends went toward the shed. At their approach Planchet came out leading the two horses.
+
+“That is good to see,” said Aramis. “There is a servant active and vigilant, not like that lazy fellow Bazin, who is no longer good for anything since he became connected with the church. Follow us, Planchet; we shall continue our conversation to the end of the village.”
+
+They traversed the width of the village, talking of indifferent things, then as they reached the last houses:
+
+“Go, then, dear friend,” said Aramis, “follow your own career. Fortune lavishes her smiles upon you; do not let her flee from your embrace. As for me, I remain in my humility and indolence. Adieu!”
+
+“Thus ’tis quite decided,” said D’Artagnan, “that what I have to offer to you does not tempt you?”
+
+“On the contrary, it would tempt me were I any other man,” rejoined Aramis; “but I repeat, I am made up of contradictions. What I hate to-day I adore to-morrow, and vice versa. You see that I cannot, like you, for instance, settle on any fixed plan.”
+
+“Thou liest, subtile one,” said D’Artagnan to himself. “Thou alone, on the contrary, knowest how to choose thy object and to gain it stealthily.”
+
+The friends embraced. They descended into the plain by the ladder. Planchet met them hard by the shed. D’Artagnan jumped into the saddle, then the old companions in arms again shook hands. D’Artagnan and Planchet spurred their steeds and took the road to Paris.
+
+But after he had gone about two hundred steps D’Artagnan stopped short, alighted, threw the bridle of his horse over the arm of Planchet and took the pistols from his saddle-bow to fasten them to his girdle.
+
+“What’s the matter?” asked Planchet.
+
+“This is the matter: be he ever so cunning he shall never say I was his dupe. Stand here, don’t stir, turn your back to the road and wait for me.”
+
+Having thus spoken, D’Artagnan cleared the ditch by the roadside and crossed the plain so as to wind around the village. He had observed between the house that Madame de Longueville inhabited and the convent of the Jesuits, an open space surrounded by a hedge.
+
+The moon had now risen and he could see well enough to retrace his road.
+
+He reached the hedge and hid himself behind it; in passing by the house where the scene which we have related took place, he remarked that the window was again lighted up and he was convinced that Aramis had not yet returned to his own apartment and that when he did it would not be alone.
+
+In truth, in a few minutes he heard steps approaching and low whispers.
+
+Close to the hedge the steps stopped.
+
+D’Artagnan knelt down near the thickest part of the hedge.
+
+Two men, to the astonishment of D’Artagnan, appeared shortly; soon, however, his surprise vanished, for he heard the murmurs of a soft, harmonious voice; one of these two men was a woman disguised as a cavalier.
+
+“Calm yourself, dear Rene,” said the soft voice, “the same thing will never happen again. I have discovered a sort of subterranean passage which runs beneath the street and we shall only have to raise one of the marble slabs before the door to open you an entrance and an outlet.”
+
+“Oh!” answered another voice, which D’Artagnan instantly recognized as that of Aramis. “I swear to you, princess, that if your reputation did not depend on precautions and if my life alone were jeopardized — — ”
+
+“Yes, yes! I know you are as brave and venturesome as any man in the world, but you do not belong to me alone; you belong to all our party. Be prudent! sensible!”
+
+“I always obey, madame, when I am commanded by so gentle a voice.”
+
+He kissed her hand tenderly.
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the cavalier with a soft voice.
+
+“What’s the matter?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Do you not see that the wind has blown off my hat?”
+
+Aramis rushed after the fugitive hat. D’Artagnan took advantage of the circumstance to find a place in the hedge not so thick, where his glance could penetrate to the supposed cavalier. At that instant, the moon, inquisitive, perhaps, like D’Artagnan, came from behind a cloud and by her light D’Artagnan recognized the large blue eyes, the golden hair and the classic head of the Duchess de Longueville.
+
+Aramis returned, laughing, one hat on his head and the other in his hand; and he and his companion resumed their walk toward the convent.
+
+“Good!” said D’Artagnan, rising and brushing his knees; “now I have thee — thou art a Frondeur and the lover of Madame de Longueville.”
+
+Chapter X. Monsieur Porthos du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds.
+
+Thanks to what Aramis had told him, D’Artagnan, who knew already that Porthos called himself Du Vallon, was now aware that he styled himself, from his estate, De Bracieux; and that he was, on account of this estate, engaged in a lawsuit with the Bishop of Noyon. It was, then, in the neighborhood of Noyon that he must seek that estate. His itinerary was promptly determined: he would go to Dammartin, from which place two roads diverge, one toward Soissons, the other toward Compiegne; there he would inquire concerning the Bracieux estate and go to the right or to the left according to the information obtained.
+
+Planchet, who was still a little concerned for his safety after his recent escapade, declared that he would follow D’Artagnan even to the end of the world, either by the road to the right or by that to the left; only he begged his former master to set out in the evening, for greater security to himself. D’Artagnan suggested that he should send word to his wife, so that she might not be anxious about him, but Planchet replied with much sagacity that he was very sure his wife would not die of anxiety through not knowing where he was, while he, Planchet, remembering her incontinence of tongue, would die of anxiety if she did know.
+
+This reasoning seemed to D’Artagnan so satisfactory that he no further insisted; and about eight o’clock in the evening, the time when the vapors of night begin to thicken in the streets, he left the Hotel de la Chevrette, and followed by Planchet set forth from the capital by way of the Saint Denis gate.
+
+At midnight the two travelers were at Dammartin, but it was then too late to make inquiries — the host of the Cygne de la Croix had gone to bed.
+
+The next morning D’Artagnan summoned the host, one of those sly Normans who say neither yes nor no and fear to commit themselves by giving a direct answer. D’Artagnan, however, gathered from his equivocal replies that the road to the right was the one he ought to take, and on that uncertain information he resumed his journey. At nine in the morning he reached Nanteuil and stopped for breakfast. His host here was a good fellow from Picardy, who gave him all the information he needed. The Bracieux estate was a few leagues from Villars-Cotterets.
+
+D’Artagnan was acquainted with Villars-Cotterets, having gone thither with the court on several occasions; for at that time Villars-Cotterets was a royal residence. He therefore shaped his course toward that place and dismounted at the Dauphin d’Or. There he ascertained that the Bracieux estate was four leagues distant, but that Porthos was not at Bracieux. Porthos had, in fact, been involved in a dispute with the Bishop of Noyon in regard to the Pierrefonds property, which adjoined his own, and weary at length of a legal controversy which was beyond his comprehension, he put an end to it by purchasing Pierrefonds and added that name to his others. He now called himself Du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds, and resided on his new estate.
+
+The travelers were therefore obliged to stay at the hotel until the next day; the horses had done ten leagues that day and needed rest. It is true they might have taken others, but there was a great forest to pass through and Planchet, as we have seen, had no liking for forests after dark.
+
+There was another thing that Planchet had no liking for and that was starting on a journey with a hungry stomach. Accordingly, D’Artagnan, on awaking, found his breakfast waiting for him. It need not be said that Planchet in resuming his former functions resumed also his former humility and was not ashamed to make his breakfast on what was left by D’Artagnan.
+
+It was nearly eight o’clock when they set out again. Their course was clearly defined: they were to follow the road toward Compiegne and on emerging from the forest turn to the right.
+
+The morning was beautiful, and in this early springtime the birds sang on the trees and the sunbeams shone through the misty glades, like curtains of golden gauze.
+
+In other parts of the forest the light could scarcely penetrate through the foliage, and the stems of two old oak trees, the refuge of the squirrel, startled by the travelers, were in deep shadow.
+
+There came up from all nature in the dawn of day a perfume of herbs, flowers and leaves, which delighted the heart. D’Artagnan, sick of the closeness of Paris, thought that when a man had three names of his different estates joined one to another, he ought to be very happy in such a paradise; then he shook his head, saying, “If I were Porthos and D’Artagnan came to make me such a proposition as I am going to make to him, I know what I should say to it.”
+
+As to Planchet, he thought of little or nothing, but was happy as a hunting-hound in his old master’s company.
+
+At the extremity of the wood D’Artagnan perceived the road that had been described to him, and at the end of the road he saw the towers of an immense feudal castle.
+
+“Oh! oh!” he said, “I fancied this castle belonged to the ancient branch of Orleans. Can Porthos have negotiated for it with the Duc de Longueville?”
+
+“Faith!” exclaimed Planchet, “here’s land in good condition; if it belongs to Monsieur Porthos I wish him joy.”
+
+“Zounds!” cried D’Artagnan, “don’t call him Porthos, nor even Vallon; call him De Bracieux or De Pierrefonds; thou wilt knell out damnation to my mission otherwise.”
+
+As he approached the castle which had first attracted his eye, D’Artagnan was convinced that it could not be there that his friend dwelt; the towers, though solid and as if built yesterday, were open and broken. One might have fancied that some giant had cleaved them with blows from a hatchet.
+
+On arriving at the extremity of the castle D’Artagnan found himself overlooking a beautiful valley, in which, at the foot of a charming little lake, stood several scattered houses, which, humble in their aspect, and covered, some with tiles, others with thatch, seemed to acknowledge as their sovereign lord a pretty chateau, built about the beginning of the reign of Henry IV., and surmounted by four stately, gilded weather-cocks. D’Artagnan no longer doubted that this was Porthos’s pleasant dwelling place.
+
+The road led straight up to the chateau which, compared to its ancestor on the hill, was exactly what a fop of the coterie of the Duc d’Enghein would have been beside a knight in steel armor in the time of Charles VII. D’Artagnan spurred his horse on and pursued his road, followed by Planchet at the same pace.
+
+In ten minutes D’Artagnan reached the end of an alley regularly planted with fine poplars and terminating in an iron gate, the points and crossed bars of which were gilt. In the midst of this avenue was a nobleman, dressed in green and with as much gilding about him as the iron gate, riding on a tall horse. On his right hand and his left were two footmen, with the seams of their dresses laced. A considerable number of clowns were assembled and rendered homage to their lord.
+
+“Ah!” said D’Artagnan to himself, “can this be the Seigneur du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds? Well-a-day! how he has shrunk since he gave up the name of Porthos!”
+
+“This cannot be Monsieur Porthos,” observed Planchet replying, as it were, to his master’s thoughts. “Monsieur Porthos was six feet high; this man is scarcely five.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” said D’Artagnan, “the people are bowing very low to this person.”
+
+As he spoke, he rode toward the tall horse — to the man of importance and his valets. As he approached he seemed to recognize the features of this individual.
+
+“Jesu!” cried Planchet, “can it be?”
+
+At this exclamation the man on horseback turned slowly and with a lofty air, and the two travelers could see, displayed in all their brilliancy, the large eyes, the vermilion visage, and the eloquent smile of — Mousqueton.
+
+It was indeed Mousqueton — Mousqueton, as fat as a pig, rolling about with rude health, puffed out with good living, who, recognizing D’Artagnan and acting very differently from the hypocrite Bazin, slipped off his horse and approached the officer with his hat off, so that the homage of the assembled crowd was turned toward this new sun, which eclipsed the former luminary.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan! Monsieur d’Artagnan!” cried Mousqueton, his fat cheeks swelling out and his whole frame perspiring with joy; “Monsieur d’Artagnan! oh! what joy for my lord and master, Du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds!”
+
+“Thou good Mousqueton! where is thy master?”
+
+“You stand upon his property!”
+
+“But how handsome thou art — how fat! thou hast prospered and grown stout!” and D’Artagnan could not restrain his astonishment at the change good fortune had produced on the once famished one.
+
+“Hey, yes, thank God, I am pretty well,” said Mousqueton.
+
+“But hast thou nothing to say to thy friend Planchet?”
+
+“How, my friend Planchet? Planchet — art thou there?” cried Mousqueton, with open arms and eyes full of tears.
+
+“My very self,” replied Planchet; “but I wanted first to see if thou wert grown proud.”
+
+“Proud toward an old friend? never, Planchet! thou wouldst not have thought so hadst thou known Mousqueton well.”
+
+“So far so well,” answered Planchet, alighting, and extending his arms to Mousqueton, the two servants embraced with an emotion which touched those who were present and made them suppose that Planchet was a great lord in disguise, so highly did they estimate the position of Mousqueton.
+
+“And now, sir,” resumed Mousqueton, when he had rid himself of Planchet, who had in vain tried to clasp his hands behind his friend’s fat back, “now, sir, allow me to leave you, for I could not permit my master to hear of your arrival from any but myself; he would never forgive me for not having preceded you.”
+
+“This dear friend,” said D’Artagnan, carefully avoiding to utter either the former name borne by Porthos or his new one, “then he has not forgotten me?”
+
+“Forgotten — he!” cried Mousqueton; “there’s not a day, sir, that we don’t expect to hear that you were made marshal either instead of Monsieur de Gassion, or of Monsieur de Bassompierre.”
+
+On D’Artagnan’s lips there played one of those rare and melancholy smiles which seemed to emanate from the depth of his soul — the last trace of youth and happiness that had survived life’s disillusions.
+
+“And you — fellows,” resumed Mousqueton, “stay near Monsieur le Comte d’Artagnan and pay him every attention in your power whilst I go to prepare my lord for his visit.”
+
+And mounting his horse Mousqueton rode off down the avenue on the grass at a hand gallop.
+
+“Ah, there! there’s something promising,” said D’Artagnan. “No mysteries, no cloak to hide one’s self in, no cunning policy here; people laugh outright, they weep for joy here. I see nothing but faces a yard broad; in short, it seems to me that nature herself wears a holiday garb, and that the trees, instead of leaves and flowers, are covered with red and green ribbons as on gala days.”
+
+“As for me,” said Planchet, “I seem to smell, from this place, even, a most delectable perfume of fine roast meat, and to see the scullions in a row by the hedge, hailing our approach. Ah! sir, what a cook must Monsieur Pierrefonds have, when he was so fond of eating and drinking, even whilst he was only called Monsieur Porthos!”
+
+“Say no more!” cried D’Artagnan. “If the reality corresponds with appearances I am lost; for a man so well off will never change his happy condition, and I shall fail with him, as I have already done with Aramis.”
+
+Chapter XI. Wealth does not necessarily produce Happiness.
+
+D’Artagnan passed through the iron gate and arrived in front of the chateau. He alighted as he saw a species of giant on the steps. Let us do justice to D’Artagnan. Independently of every selfish wish, his heart palpitated with joy when he saw that tall form and martial demeanor, which recalled to him a good and brave man.
+
+He ran to Porthos and threw himself into his arms; the whole body of servants, arranged in a semi-circle at a respectful distance, looked on with humble curiosity. Mousqueton, at the head of them, wiped his eyes. Porthos linked his arm in that of his friend.
+
+“Ah! how delightful to see you again, dear friend!” he cried, in a voice which was now changed from a baritone into a bass, “you’ve not then forgotten me?”
+
+“Forget you! oh! dear Du Vallon, does one forget the happiest days of flowery youth, one’s dearest friends, the dangers we have dared together? On the contrary, there is not an hour we have passed together that is not present to my memory.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Porthos, trying to give to his mustache a curl which it had lost whilst he had been alone. “Yes, we did some fine things in our time and we gave that poor cardinal a few threads to unravel.”
+
+And he heaved a sigh.
+
+“Under any circumstances,” he resumed, “you are welcome, my dear friend; you will help me to recover my spirits; to-morrow we will hunt the hare on my plain, which is a superb tract of land, or pursue the deer in my woods, which are magnificent. I have four harriers which are considered the swiftest in the county, and a pack of hounds which are unequalled for twenty leagues around.”
+
+And Porthos heaved another sigh.
+
+“But, first,” interposed D’Artagnan, “you must present me to Madame du Vallon.”
+
+A third sigh from Porthos.
+
+“I lost Madame du Vallon two years ago,” he said, “and you find me still in affliction on that account. That was the reason why I left my Chateau du Vallon near Corbeil, and came to my estate, Bracieux. Poor Madame du Vallon! her temper was uncertain, but she came at last to accustom herself to my little ways and understand my little wishes.”
+
+“So you are free now, and rich?”
+
+“Alas!” groaned Porthos, “I am a widower and have forty thousand francs a year. Let us go to breakfast.”
+
+“I shall be happy to do so; the morning air has made me hungry.”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos; “my air is excellent.”
+
+They went into the chateau; there was nothing but gilding, high and low; the cornices were gilt, the mouldings were gilt, the legs and arms of the chairs were gilt. A table, ready set out, awaited them.
+
+“You see,” said Porthos, “this is my usual style.”
+
+“Devil take me!” answered D’Artagnan, “I wish you joy of it. The king has nothing like it.”
+
+“No,” answered Porthos, “I hear it said that he is very badly fed by the cardinal, Monsieur de Mazarin. Taste this cutlet, my dear D’Artagnan; ’tis off one of my sheep.”
+
+“You have very tender mutton and I wish you joy of it.” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, the sheep are fed in my meadows, which are excellent pasture.”
+
+“Give me another cutlet.”
+
+“No, try this hare, which I had killed yesterday in one of my warrens.”
+
+“Zounds! what a flavor!” cried D’Artagnan; “ah! they are fed on thyme only, your hares.”
+
+“And how do you like my wine?” asked Porthos; “it is pleasant, isn’t it?”
+
+“Capital!”
+
+“It is nothing, however, but a wine of the country.”
+
+“Really?”
+
+“Yes, a small declivity to the south, yonder on my hill, gives me twenty hogsheads.”
+
+“Quite a vineyard, hey?”
+
+Porthos sighed for the fifth time — D’Artagnan had counted his sighs. He became curious to solve the problem.
+
+“Well now,” he said, “it seems, my dear friend, that something vexes you; you are ill, perhaps? That health, which — — ”
+
+“Excellent, my dear friend; better than ever. I could kill an ox with a blow of my fist.”
+
+“Well, then, family affairs, perhaps?”
+
+“Family! I have, happily, only myself in the world to care for.”
+
+“But what makes you sigh?”
+
+“My dear fellow,” replied Porthos, “to be candid with you, I am not happy.”
+
+“You are not happy, Porthos? You who have chateau, meadows, mountains, woods — you who have forty thousand francs a year — you — are — not — happy?”
+
+“My dear friend, all those things I have, but I am a hermit in the midst of superfluity.”
+
+“Surrounded, I suppose, only by clodhoppers, with whom you could not associate.”
+
+Porthos turned rather pale and drank off a large glass of wine.
+
+“No; but just think, there are paltry country squires who have all some title or another and pretend to go back as far as Charlemagne, or at least to Hugh Capet. When I first came here; being the last comer, it was for me to make the first advances. I made them, but you know, my dear friend, Madame du Vallon — — ”
+
+Porthos, in pronouncing these words, seemed to gulp down something.
+
+“Madame du Vallon was of doubtful gentility. She had, in her first marriage — I don’t think, D’Artagnan, I am telling you anything new — married a lawyer; they thought that ‘nauseous;’ you can understand that’s a word bad enough to make one kill thirty thousand men. I have killed two, which has made people hold their tongues, but has not made me their friend. So that I have no society; I live alone; I am sick of it — my mind preys on itself.”
+
+D’Artagnan smiled. He now saw where the breastplate was weak, and prepared the blow.
+
+“But now,” he said, “that you are a widower, your wife’s connection cannot injure you.”
+
+“Yes, but understand me; not being of a race of historic fame, like the De Courcys, who were content to be plain sirs, or the Rohans, who didn’t wish to be dukes, all these people, who are all either vicomtes or comtes go before me at church in all the ceremonies, and I can say nothing to them. Ah! If I only were a — — ”
+
+“A baron, don’t you mean?” cried D’Artagnan, finishing his friend’s sentence.
+
+“Ah!” cried Porthos; “would I were but a baron!”
+
+“Well, my friend, I am come to give you this very title which you wish for so much.”
+
+Porthos gave a start that shook the room; two or three bottles fell and were broken. Mousqueton ran thither, hearing the noise.
+
+Porthos waved his hand to Mousqueton to pick up the bottles.
+
+“I am glad to see,” said D’Artagnan, “that you have still that honest lad with you.”
+
+“He is my steward,” replied Porthos; “he will never leave me. Go away now, Mouston.”
+
+“So he’s called Mouston,” thought D’Artagnan; “’tis too long a word to pronounce ‘Mousqueton.’”
+
+“Well,” he said aloud, “let us resume our conversation later, your people may suspect something; there may be spies about. You can suppose, Porthos, that what I have to say relates to most important matters.”
+
+“Devil take them; let us walk in the park,” answered Porthos, “for the sake of digestion.”
+
+“Egad,” said D’Artagnan, “the park is like everything else and there are as many fish in your pond as rabbits in your warren; you are a happy man, my friend since you have not only retained your love of the chase, but acquired that of fishing.”
+
+“My friend,” replied Porthos, “I leave fishing to Mousqueton, — it is a vulgar pleasure, — but I shoot sometimes; that is to say, when I am dull, and I sit on one of those marble seats, have my gun brought to me, my favorite dog, and I shoot rabbits.”
+
+“Really, how very amusing!”
+
+“Yes,” replied Porthos, with a sigh, “it is amusing.”
+
+D’Artagnan now no longer counted the sighs. They were innumerable.
+
+“However, what had you to say to me?” he resumed; “let us return to that subject.”
+
+“With pleasure,” replied D’Artagnan; “I must, however, first frankly tell you that you must change your mode of life.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“Go into harness again, gird on your sword, run after adventures, and leave as in old times a little of your fat on the roadside.”
+
+“Ah! hang it!” said Porthos.
+
+“I see you are spoiled, dear friend; you are corpulent, your arm has no longer that movement of which the late cardinal’s guards have so many proofs.”
+
+“Ah! my fist is strong enough I swear,” cried Porthos, extending a hand like a shoulder of mutton.
+
+“So much the better.”
+
+“Are we then to go to war?”
+
+“By my troth, yes.”
+
+“Against whom?”
+
+“Are you a politician, friend?”
+
+“Not in the least.”
+
+“Are you for Mazarin or for the princes?”
+
+“I am for no one.”
+
+“That is to say, you are for us. Well, I tell you that I come to you from the cardinal.”
+
+This speech was heard by Porthos in the same sense as if it had still been in the year 1640 and related to the true cardinal.
+
+“Ho! ho! What are the wishes of his eminence?”
+
+“He wishes to have you in his service.”
+
+“And who spoke to him of me?”
+
+“Rochefort — you remember him?”
+
+“Yes, pardieu! It was he who gave us so much trouble and kept us on the road so much; you gave him three sword-wounds in three separate engagements.”
+
+“But you know he is now our friend?”
+
+“No, I didn’t know that. So he cherishes no resentment?”
+
+“You are mistaken, Porthos,” said D’Artagnan. “It is I who cherish no resentment.”
+
+Porthos didn’t understand any too clearly; but then we know that understanding was not his strong point. “You say, then,” he continued, “that the Count de Rochefort spoke of me to the cardinal?”
+
+“Yes, and the queen, too.”
+
+“The queen, do you say?”
+
+“To inspire us with confidence she has even placed in Mazarin’s hands that famous diamond — you remember all about it — that I once sold to Monsieur des Essarts and of which, I don’t know how, she has regained possession.”
+
+“But it seems to me,” said Porthos, “that she would have done much better if she had given it back to you.”
+
+“So I think,” replied D’Artagnan; “but kings and queens are strange beings and have odd fancies; nevertheless, since they are the ones who have riches and honors, we are devoted to them.”
+
+“Yes, we are devoted to them,” repeated Porthos; “and you — to whom are you devoted now?”
+
+“To the king, the queen, and to the cardinal; moreover, I have answered for your devotion also.”
+
+“And you say that you have made certain conditions on my behalf?”
+
+“Magnificent, my dear fellow, magnificent! In the first place you have plenty of money, haven’t you? forty thousand francs income, I think you said.”
+
+Porthos began to be suspicious. “Eh! my friend,” said he, “one never has too much money. Madame du Vallon left things in much disorder; I am not much of a hand at figures, so that I live almost from hand to mouth.”
+
+“He is afraid I have come to borrow money,” thought D’Artagnan. “Ah, my friend,” said he, “it is all the better if you are in difficulties.”
+
+“How is it all the better?”
+
+“Yes, for his eminence will give you all that you want — land, money, and titles.”
+
+“Ah! ah! ah!” said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.
+
+“Under the other cardinal,” continued D’Artagnan, “we didn’t know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesn’t concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me.”
+
+Porthos sighed.
+
+“At the same time,” continued D’Artagnan, “notwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?”
+
+“Yes indeed,” said Porthos.
+
+“Well, my dear friend, win it — it is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each other — your object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquilly — at home.”
+
+“For my part,” said Porthos, “I desire to be made a baron.”
+
+“You shall be one.”
+
+“And have you not seen any of our other friends?”
+
+“Yes, I have seen Aramis.”
+
+“And what does he wish? To be a bishop?”
+
+“Aramis,” answered D’Artagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, “Aramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him, — did not even tempt him.”
+
+“So much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?”
+
+“I have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?”
+
+“Near Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignities — the Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?”
+
+“And he has no children with all these titles?”
+
+“Ah!” said Porthos, “I have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly.”
+
+“What, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, I shall see him to-morrow and tell him about you; but I’m afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him.”
+
+“Yes, he used to drink a great deal,” replied Porthos.
+
+“And then he was older than any of us,” added D’Artagnan.
+
+“Some years only. His gravity made him look older than he was.”
+
+“Well then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen.”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; “but we four, altogether, would be equal to thirty-six, more especially as you say the work will not be child’s play. Will it last long?”
+
+“By’r Lady! two or three years perhaps.”
+
+“So much the better,” cried Porthos. “You have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and low-spirited, that’s all. At any rate, tell me: there’s more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?”
+
+“In that respect, my dear friend, it’s delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinal’s guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. I’Gad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask ‘Are you one of the Fronde?’ They unsheathe, and that’s all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it.”
+
+“Ah, things go on gaily, then,” said Porthos.
+
+“Besides which, in a short time,” resumed D’Artagnan, “We shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety.”
+
+“Well, then, I decide.”
+
+“I have your word, then?”
+
+“Yes, ’tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but — — ”
+
+“But?”
+
+“But he must make me a baron.”
+
+“Zounds!” said D’Artagnan, “that’s settled already; I will be responsible for the barony.”
+
+On this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friend’s assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.
+
+Chapter XII. Porthos was Discontented with his Condition.
+
+As they returned toward the castle, D’Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.
+
+In the position of Porthos, D’Artagnan would have been perfectly happy; and to make Porthos contented there was wanting — what? five letters to put before his three names, a tiny coronet to paint upon the panels of his carriage!
+
+“I shall pass all my life,” thought D’Artagnan, “in seeking for a man who is really contented with his lot.”
+
+Whilst making this reflection, chance seemed, as it were, to give him the lie direct. When Porthos had left him to give some orders he saw Mousqueton approaching. The face of the steward, despite one slight shade of care, light as a summer cloud, seemed a physiognomy of absolute felicity.
+
+“Here is what I am looking for,” thought D’Artagnan; “but alas! the poor fellow does not know the purpose for which I am here.”
+
+He then made a sign for Mousqueton to come to him.
+
+“Sir,” said the servant, “I have a favour to ask you.”
+
+“Speak out, my friend.”
+
+“I am afraid to do so. Perhaps you will think, sir, that prosperity has spoiled me?”
+
+“Art thou happy, friend?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“As happy as possible; and yet, sir, you may make me even happier than I am.”
+
+“Well, speak, if it depends on me.”
+
+“Oh, sir! it depends on you only.”
+
+“I listen — I am waiting to hear.”
+
+“Sir, the favor I have to ask of you is, not to call me ‘Mousqueton’ but ‘Mouston.’ Since I have had the honor of being my lord’s steward I have taken the last name as more dignified and calculated to make my inferiors respect me. You, sir, know how necessary subordination is in any large establishment of servants.”
+
+D’Artagnan smiled; Porthos wanted to lengthen out his names, Mousqueton to cut his short.
+
+“Well, my dear Mouston,” he said, “rest satisfied. I will call thee Mouston; and if it makes thee happy I will not ‘tutoyer’ you any longer.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Mousqueton, reddening with joy; “if you do me, sir, such honor, I shall be grateful all my life; it is too much to ask.”
+
+“Alas!” thought D’Artagnan, “it is very little to offset the unexpected tribulations I am bringing to this poor devil who has so warmly welcomed me.”
+
+“Will monsieur remain long with us?” asked Mousqueton, with a serene and glowing countenance.
+
+“I go to-morrow, my friend,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“Ah, monsieur,” said Mousqueton, “then you have come here only to awaken our regrets.”
+
+“I fear that is true,” said D’Artagnan, in a low tone.
+
+D’Artagnan was secretly touched with remorse, not at inducing Porthos to enter into schemes in which his life and fortune would be in jeopardy, for Porthos, in the title of baron, had his object and reward; but poor Mousqueton, whose only wish was to be called Mouston — was it not cruel to snatch him from the delightful state of peace and plenty in which he was?
+
+He was thinking of these matters when Porthos summoned him to dinner.
+
+“What! to dinner?” said D’Artagnan. “What time is it, then?”
+
+“Eh! why, it is after one o’clock.”
+
+“Your home is a paradise, Porthos; one takes no note of time. I follow you, though I am not hungry.”
+
+“Come, if one can’t always eat, one can always drink — a maxim of poor Athos, the truth of which I have discovered since I began to be lonely.”
+
+D’Artagnan, who as a Gascon, was inclined to sobriety, seemed not so sure as his friend of the truth of Athos’s maxim, but he did his best to keep up with his host. Meanwhile his misgivings in regard to Mousqueton recurred to his mind and with greater force because Mousqueton, though he did not himself wait on the table, which would have been beneath him in his new position, appeared at the door from time to time and evinced his gratitude to D’Artagnan by the quality of the wine he directed to be served. Therefore, when, at dessert, upon a sign from D’Artagnan, Porthos had sent away his servants and the two friends were alone:
+
+“Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, “who will attend you in your campaigns?”
+
+“Why,” replied Porthos, “Mouston, of course.”
+
+This was a blow to D’Artagnan. He could already see the intendant’s beaming smile change to a contortion of grief. “But,” he said, “Mouston is not so young as he was, my dear fellow; besides, he has grown fat and perhaps has lost his fitness for active service.”
+
+“That may be true,” replied Porthos; “but I am used to him, and besides, he wouldn’t be willing to let me go without him, he loves me so much.”
+
+“Oh, blind self-love!” thought D’Artagnan.
+
+“And you,” asked Porthos, “haven’t you still in your service your old lackey, that good, that brave, that intelligent — -what, then, is his name?”
+
+“Planchet — yes, I have found him again, but he is lackey no longer.”
+
+“What is he, then?”
+
+“With his sixteen hundred francs — you remember, the sixteen hundred francs he earned at the siege of La Rochelle by carrying a letter to Lord de Winter — he has set up a little shop in the Rue des Lombards and is now a confectioner.”
+
+“Ah, he is a confectioner in the Rue des Lombards! How does it happen, then, that he is in your service?”
+
+“He has been guilty of certain escapades and fears he may be disturbed.” And the musketeer narrated to his friend Planchet’s adventure.
+
+“Well,” said Porthos, “if any one had told you in the old times that the day would come when Planchet would rescue Rochefort and that you would protect him in it — — ”
+
+“I should not have believed him; but men are changed by events.”
+
+“There is nothing truer than that,” said Porthos; “but what does not change, or changes for the better, is wine. Taste of this; it is a Spanish wine which our friend Athos thought much of.”
+
+At that moment the steward came in to consult his master upon the proceedings of the next day and also with regard to the shooting party which had been proposed.
+
+“Tell me, Mouston,” said Porthos, “are my arms in good condition?”
+
+“Your arms, my lord — what arms?”
+
+“Zounds! my weapons.”
+
+“What weapons?”
+
+“My military weapons.”
+
+“Yes, my lord; at any rate, I think so.”
+
+“Make sure of it, and if they want it, have them burnished up. Which is my best cavalry horse?”
+
+“Vulcan.”
+
+“And the best hack?”
+
+“Bayard.”
+
+“What horse dost thou choose for thyself?”
+
+“I like Rustaud, my lord; a good animal, whose paces suit me.”
+
+“Strong, thinkest thou?”
+
+“Half Norman, half Mecklenburger; will go night and day.”
+
+“That will do for us. See to these horses. Polish up or make some one else polish my arms. Then take pistols with thee and a hunting-knife.”
+
+“Are we then going to travel, my lord?” asked Mousqueton, rather uneasy.
+
+“Something better still, Mouston.”
+
+“An expedition, sir?” asked the steward, whose roses began to change into lilies.
+
+“We are going to return to the service, Mouston,” replied Porthos, still trying to restore his mustache to the military curl it had long lost.
+
+“Into the service — the king’s service?” Mousqueton trembled; even his fat, smooth cheeks shook as he spoke, and he looked at D’Artagnan with an air of reproach; he staggered, and his voice was almost choked.
+
+“Yes and no. We shall serve in a campaign, seek out all sorts of adventures — return, in short, to our former life.”
+
+These last words fell on Mousqueton like a thunderbolt. It was those very terrible old days that made the present so excessively delightful, and the blow was so great he rushed out, overcome, and forgot to shut the door.
+
+The two friends remained alone to speak of the future and to build castles in the air. The good wine which Mousqueton had placed before them traced out in glowing drops to D’Artagnan a fine perspective, shining with quadruples and pistoles, and showed to Porthos a blue ribbon and a ducal mantle; they were, in fact, asleep on the table when the servants came to light them to their bed.
+
+Mousqueton was, however, somewhat consoled by D’Artagnan, who the next day told him that in all probability war would always be carried on in the heart of Paris and within reach of the Chateau du Vallon, which was near Corbeil, or Bracieux, which was near Melun, and of Pierrefonds, which was between Compiegne and Villars-Cotterets.
+
+“But — formerly — it appears,” began Mousqueton timidly.
+
+“Oh!” said D’Artagnan, “we don’t now make war as we did formerly. To-day it’s a sort of diplomatic arrangement; ask Planchet.”
+
+Mousqueton inquired, therefore, the state of the case of his old friend, who confirmed the statement of D’Artagnan. “But,” he added, “in this war prisoners stand a chance of being hung.”
+
+“The deuce they do!” said Mousqueton; “I think I should like the siege of Rochelle better than this war, then!”
+
+Porthos, meantime, asked D’Artagnan to give him his instructions how to proceed on his journey.
+
+“Four days,” replied his friend, “are necessary to reach Blois; one day to rest there; three or four days to return to Paris. Set out, therefore, in a week, with your suite, and go to the Hotel de la Chevrette, Rue Tiquetonne, and there await me.”
+
+“That’s agreed,” said Porthos.
+
+“As to myself, I shall go around to see Athos; for though I don’t think his aid worth much, one must with one’s friends observe all due politeness,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+The friends then took leave of each other on the very border of the estate of Pierrefonds, to which Porthos escorted his friend.
+
+“At least,” D’Artagnan said to himself, as he took the road to Villars-Cotterets, “at least I shall not be alone in my undertaking. That devil, Porthos, is a man of prodigious strength; still, if Athos joins us, well, we shall be three of us to laugh at Aramis, that little coxcomb with his too good luck.”
+
+At Villars-Cotterets he wrote to the cardinal:
+
+“My Lord, — I have already one man to offer to your eminence, and he is well worth twenty men. I am just setting out for Blois. The Comte de la Fere inhabits the Castle of Bragelonne, in the environs of that city.”
+
+Chapter XIII. Two Angelic Faces.
+
+The road was long, but the horses upon which D’Artagnan and Planchet rode had been refreshed in the well supplied stables of the Lord of Bracieux; the master and servant rode side by side, conversing as they went, for D’Artagnan had by degrees thrown off the master and Planchet had entirely ceased to assume the manners of a servant. He had been raised by circumstances to the rank of a confidant to his master. It was many years since D’Artagnan had opened his heart to any one; it happened, however, that these two men, on meeting again, assimilated perfectly. Planchet was in truth no vulgar companion in these new adventures; he was a man of uncommonly sound sense. Without courting danger he never shrank from an encounter; in short, he had been a soldier and arms ennoble a man; it was, therefore, on the footing of friends that D’Artagnan and Planchet arrived in the neighborhood of Blois.
+
+Going along, D’Artagnan, shaking his head, said:
+
+“I know that my going to Athos is useless and absurd; but still I owe this courtesy to my old friend, a man who had in him material for the most noble and generous of characters.”
+
+“Oh, Monsieur Athos was a noble gentleman,” said Planchet, “was he not? Scattering money round about him as Heaven sprinkles rain. Do you remember, sir, that duel with the Englishman in the inclosure des Carmes? Ah! how lofty, how magnificent Monsieur Athos was that day, when he said to his adversary: ‘You have insisted on knowing my name, sir; so much the worse for you, since I shall be obliged to kill you.’ I was near him, those were his exact words, when he stabbed his foe as he said he would, and his adversary fell without saying, ‘Oh!’ ’Tis a noble gentleman — Monsieur Athos.”
+
+“Yes, true as Gospel,” said D’Artagnan; “but one single fault has swallowed up all these fine qualities.”
+
+“I remember well,” said Planchet, “he was fond of drinking — in truth, he drank, but not as other men drink. One seemed, as he raised the wine to his lips, to hear him say, ‘Come, juice of the grape, and chase away my sorrows.’ And how he used to break the stem of a glass or the neck of a bottle! There was no one like him for that.”
+
+“And now,” replied D’Artagnan, “behold the sad spectacle that awaits us. This noble gentleman with his lofty glance, this handsome cavalier, so brilliant in feats of arms that every one was surprised that he held in his hand a sword only instead of a baton of command! Alas! we shall find him changed into a broken down old man, with garnet nose and eyes that slobber; we shall find him extended on some lawn, whence he will look at us with a languid eye and peradventure will not recognize us. God knows, Planchet, that I should fly from a sight so sad if I did not wish to show my respect for the illustrious shadow of what was once the Comte de la Fere, whom we loved so much.”
+
+Planchet shook his head and said nothing. It was evident that he shared his master’s apprehensions.
+
+“And then,” resumed D’Artagnan, “to this decrepitude is probably added poverty, for he must have neglected the little that he had, and the dirty scoundrel, Grimaud, more taciturn than ever and still more drunken than his master — stay, Planchet, it breaks my heart to merely think of it.”
+
+“I fancy myself there and that I see him staggering and hear him stammering,” said Planchet, in a piteous tone, “but at all events we shall soon know the real state of things, for I imagine that those lofty walls, now turning ruby in the setting sun, are the walls of Blois.”
+
+“Probably; and those steeples, pointed and sculptured, that we catch a glimpse of yonder, are similar to those that I have heard described at Chambord.”
+
+At this moment one of those heavy wagons, drawn by bullocks, which carry the wood cut in the fine forests of the country to the ports of the Loire, came out of a byroad full of ruts and turned on that which the two horsemen were following. A man carrying a long switch with a nail at the end of it, with which he urged on his slow team, was walking with the cart.
+
+“Ho! friend,” cried Planchet.
+
+“What’s your pleasure, gentlemen?” replied the peasant, with a purity of accent peculiar to the people of that district and which might have put to shame the cultured denizens of the Sorbonne and the Rue de l’Universite.
+
+“We are looking for the house of Monsieur de la Fere,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+The peasant took off his hat on hearing this revered name.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he said, “the wood that I am carting is his; I cut it in his copse and I am taking it to the chateau.”
+
+D’Artagnan determined not to question this man; he did not wish to hear from another what he had himself said to Planchet.
+
+“The chateau!” he said to himself, “what chateau? Ah, I understand! Athos is not a man to be thwarted; he, like Porthos, has obliged his peasantry to call him ‘my lord,’ and to dignify his pettifogging place by the name of chateau. He had a heavy hand — dear old Athos — after drinking.”
+
+D’Artagnan, after asking the man the right way, continued his route, agitated in spite of himself at the idea of seeing once more that singular man whom he had so truly loved and who had contributed so much by advice and example to his education as a gentleman. He checked by degrees the speed of his horse and went on, his head drooping as if in deep thought.
+
+Soon, as the road turned, the Chateau de la Valliere appeared in view; then, a quarter of a mile beyond, a white house, encircled in sycamores, was visible at the farther end of a group of trees, which spring had powdered with a snow of flowers.
+
+On beholding this house, D’Artagnan, calm as he was in general, felt an unusual disturbance within his heart — so powerful during the whole course of life are the recollections of youth. He proceeded, nevertheless, and came opposite to an iron gate, ornamented in the taste of the period.
+
+Through the gate was seen kitchen-gardens, carefully attended to, a spacious courtyard, in which neighed several horses held by valets in various liveries, and a carriage, drawn by two horses of the country.
+
+“We are mistaken,” said D’Artagnan. “This cannot be the establishment of Athos. Good heavens! suppose he is dead and that this property now belongs to some one who bears his name. Alight, Planchet, and inquire, for I confess that I have scarcely courage so to do.”
+
+Planchet alighted.
+
+“Thou must add,” said D’Artagnan, “that a gentleman who is passing by wishes to have the honor of paying his respects to the Comte de la Fere, and if thou art satisfied with what thou hearest, then mention my name!”
+
+Planchet, leading his horse by the bridle, drew near to the gate and rang the bell, and immediately a servant-man with white hair and of erect stature, notwithstanding his age, presented himself.
+
+“Does Monsieur le Comte de la Fere live here?” asked Planchet.
+
+“Yes, monsieur, it is here he lives,” the servant replied to Planchet, who was not in livery.
+
+“A nobleman retired from service, is he not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And who had a lackey named Grimaud?” persisted Planchet, who had prudently considered that he couldn’t have too much information.
+
+“Monsieur Grimaud is absent from the chateau for the time being,” said the servitor, who, little used as he was to such inquiries, began to examine Planchet from head to foot.
+
+“Then,” cried Planchet joyously, “I see well that it is the same Comte de la Fere whom we seek. Be good enough to open to me, for I wish to announce to monsieur le comte that my master, one of his friends, is here, and wishes to greet him.”
+
+“Why didn’t you say so?” said the servitor, opening the gate. “But where is your master?”
+
+“He is following me.”
+
+The servitor opened the gate and walked before Planchet, who made a sign to D’Artagnan. The latter, his heart palpitating more than ever, entered the courtyard without dismounting.
+
+Whilst Planchet was standing on the steps before the house he heard a voice say:
+
+“Well, where is this gentleman and why do they not bring him here?”
+
+This voice, the sound of which reached D’Artagnan, reawakened in his heart a thousand sentiments, a thousand recollections that he had forgotten. He vaulted hastily from his horse, whilst Planchet, with a smile on his lips, advanced toward the master of the house.
+
+“But I know you, my lad,” said Athos, appearing on the threshold.
+
+“Oh, yes, monsieur le comte, you know me and I know you. I am Planchet — Planchet, whom you know well.” But the honest servant could say no more, so much was he overcome by this unexpected interview.
+
+“What, Planchet, is Monsieur d’Artagnan here?”
+
+“Here I am, my friend, dear Athos!” cried D’Artagnan, in a faltering voice and almost staggering from agitation.
+
+At these words a visible emotion was expressed on the beautiful countenance and calm features of Athos. He rushed toward D’Artagnan with eyes fixed upon him and clasped him in his arms. D’Artagnan, equally moved, pressed him also closely to him, whilst tears stood in his eyes. Athos then took him by the hand and led him into the drawing-room, where there were several people. Every one arose.
+
+“I present to you,” he said, “Monsieur le Chevalier D’Artagnan, lieutenant of his majesty’s musketeers, a devoted friend and one of the most excellent, brave gentlemen that I have ever known.”
+
+D’Artagnan received the compliments of those who were present in his own way, and whilst the conversation became general he looked earnestly at Athos.
+
+Strange! Athos was scarcely aged at all! His fine eyes, no longer surrounded by that dark line which nights of dissipation pencil too infallibly, seemed larger, more liquid than ever. His face, a little elongated, had gained in calm dignity what it had lost in feverish excitement. His hand, always wonderfully beautiful and strong, was set off by a ruffle of lace, like certain hands by Titian and Vandyck. He was less stiff than formerly. His long, dark hair, softly powdered here and there with silver tendrils, fell elegantly over his shoulders in wavy curls; his voice was still youthful, as if belonging to a Hercules of twenty-five, and his magnificent teeth, which he had preserved white and sound, gave an indescribable charm to his smile.
+
+Meanwhile the guests, seeing that the two friends were longing to be alone, prepared to depart, when a noise of dogs barking resounded through the courtyard and many persons said at the same moment:
+
+“Ah! ’tis Raoul, who is come home.”
+
+Athos, as the name of Raoul was pronounced, looked inquisitively at D’Artagnan, in order to see if any curiosity was painted on his face. But D’Artagnan was still in confusion and turned around almost mechanically when a fine young man of fifteen years of age, dressed simply, but in perfect taste, entered the room, raising, as he came, his hat, adorned with a long plume of scarlet feathers.
+
+Nevertheless, D’Artagnan was struck by the appearance of this new personage. It seemed to explain to him the change in Athos; a resemblance between the boy and the man explained the mystery of this regenerated existence. He remained listening and gazing.
+
+“Here you are, home again, Raoul,” said the comte.
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied the youth, with deep respect, “and I have performed the commission that you gave me.”
+
+“But what’s the matter, Raoul?” said Athos, very anxiously. “You are pale and agitated.”
+
+“Sir,” replied the young man, “it is on account of an accident which has happened to our little neighbor.”
+
+“To Mademoiselle de la Valliere?” asked Athos, quickly.
+
+“What is it?” cried many persons present.
+
+“She was walking with her nurse Marceline, in the place where the woodmen cut the wood, when, passing on horseback, I stopped. She saw me also and in trying to jump from the end of a pile of wood on which she had mounted, the poor child fell and was not able to rise again. I fear that she has badly sprained her ankle.”
+
+“Oh, heavens!” cried Athos. “And her mother, Madame de Saint-Remy, have they yet told her of it?”
+
+“No, sir, Madame de Saint-Remy is at Blois with the Duchess of Orleans. I am afraid that what was first done was unskillful, if not worse than useless. I am come, sir, to ask your advice.”
+
+“Send directly to Blois, Raoul; or, rather, take horse and ride immediately yourself.”
+
+Raoul bowed.
+
+“But where is Louise?” asked the comte.
+
+“I have brought her here, sir, and I have deposited her in charge of Charlotte, who, till better advice comes, has bathed the foot in cold well-water.”
+
+The guests now all took leave of Athos, excepting the old Duc de Barbe, who, as an old friend of the family of La Valliere, went to see little Louise and offered to take her to Blois in his carriage.
+
+“You are right, sir,” said Athos. “She will be the sooner with her mother. As for you, Raoul, I am sure it is your fault, some giddiness or folly.”
+
+“No, sir, I assure you,” muttered Raoul, “it is not.”
+
+“Oh, no, no, I declare it is not!” cried the young girl, while Raoul turned pale at the idea of his being perhaps the cause of her disaster.
+
+“Nevertheless, Raoul, you must go to Blois and you must make your excuses and mine to Madame de Saint-Remy.”
+
+The youth looked pleased. He again took in his strong arms the little girl, whose pretty golden head and smiling face rested on his shoulder, and placed her gently in the carriage; then jumping on his horse with the elegance of a first-rate esquire, after bowing to Athos and D’Artagnan, he went off close by the door of the carriage, on somebody inside of which his eyes were riveted.
+
+Chapter XIV. The Castle of Bragelonne.
+
+Whilst this scene was going on, D’Artagnan remained with open mouth and a confused gaze. Everything had turned out so differently from what he expected that he was stupefied with wonder.
+
+Athos, who had been observing him and guessing his thoughts, took his arm and led him into the garden.
+
+“Whilst supper is being prepared,” he said, smiling, “you will not, my friend, be sorry to have the mystery which so puzzles you cleared up.”
+
+“True, monsieur le comte,” replied D’Artagnan, who felt that by degrees Athos was resuming that great influence which aristocracy had over him.
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“First and foremost, dear D’Artagnan, we have no title such as count here. When I call you ‘chevalier,’ it is in presenting you to my guests, that they may know who you are. But to you, D’Artagnan, I am, I hope, still dear Athos, your comrade, your friend. Do you intend to stand on ceremony because you are less attached to me than you were?”
+
+“Oh! God forbid!”
+
+“Then let us be as we used to be; let us be open with each other. You are surprised at what you see here?”
+
+“Extremely.”
+
+“But above all things, I am a marvel to you?”
+
+“I confess it.”
+
+“I am still young, am I not? Should you not have known me again, in spite of my eight-and-forty years of age?”
+
+“On the contrary, I do not find you the same person at all.”
+
+“I understand,” cried Athos, with a gentle blush. “Everything, D’Artagnan, even folly, has its limit.”
+
+“Then your means, it appears, are improved; you have a capital house — your own, I presume? You have a park, and horses, servants.”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“Yes, I inherited this little property when I quitted the army, as I told you. The park is twenty acres — twenty, comprising kitchen-gardens and a common. I have two horses, — I do not count my servant’s bobtailed nag. My sporting dogs consist of two pointers, two harriers and two setters. But then all this extravagance is not for myself,” added Athos, laughing.
+
+“Yes, I see, for the young man Raoul,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“You guess aright, my friend; this youth is an orphan, deserted by his mother, who left him in the house of a poor country priest. I have brought him up. It is Raoul who has worked in me the change you see; I was dried up like a miserable tree, isolated, attached to nothing on earth; it was only a deep affection that could make me take root again and drag me back to life. This child has caused me to recover what I had lost. I had no longer any wish to live for myself, I have lived for him. I have corrected the vices that I had; I have assumed the virtues that I had not. Precept something, but example more. I may be mistaken, but I believe that Raoul will be as accomplished a gentleman as our degenerate age could display.”
+
+The remembrance of Milady recurred to D’Artagnan.
+
+“And you are happy?” he said to his friend.
+
+“As happy as it is allowed to one of God’s creatures to be on this earth; but say out all you think, D’Artagnan, for you have not yet done so.”
+
+“You are too bad, Athos; one can hide nothing from you,” answered D’Artagnan. “I wished to ask you if you ever feel any emotions of terror resembling — — ”
+
+“Remorse! I finish your phrase. Yes and no. I do not feel remorse, because that woman, I profoundly hold, deserved her punishment. Had she one redeeming trait? I doubt it. I do not feel remorse, because had we allowed her to live she would have persisted in her work of destruction. But I do not mean, my friend that we were right in what we did. Perhaps all blood demands some expiation. Hers had been accomplished; it remains, possibly, for us to accomplish ours.”
+
+“I have sometimes thought as you do, Athos.”
+
+“She had a son, that unhappy woman?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Have you ever heard of him?”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“He must be about twenty-three years of age,” said Athos, in a low tone. “I often think of that young man, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Strange! for I had forgotten him,” said the lieutenant.
+
+Athos smiled; the smile was melancholy.
+
+“And Lord de Winter — do you know anything about him?”
+
+“I know that he is in high favor with Charles I.”
+
+“The fortunes of that monarch now are at low water. He shed the blood of Strafford; that confirms what I said just now — blood will have blood. And the queen?”
+
+“What queen?”
+
+“Madame Henrietta of England, daughter of Henry IV.”
+
+“She is at the Louvre, as you know.”
+
+“Yes, and I hear in bitter poverty. Her daughter, during the severest cold, was obliged for want of fire to remain in bed. Do you grasp that?” said Athos, shrugging his shoulders; “the daughter of Henry IV. shivering for want of a fagot! Why did she not ask from any one of us a home instead of from Mazarin? She should have wanted nothing.”
+
+“Have you ever seen the queen of England?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“No; but my mother, as a child, saw her. Did I ever tell you that my mother was lady of honor to Marie de Medici?”
+
+“Never. You know, Athos, you never spoke much of such matters.”
+
+“Ah, mon Dieu, yes, you are right,” Athos replied; “but then there must be some occasion for speaking.”
+
+“Porthos wouldn’t have waited for it so patiently,” said D’Artagnan, with a smile.
+
+“Every one according to his nature, my dear D’Artagnan. Porthos, in spite of a touch of vanity, has many excellent qualities. Have you seen him?”
+
+“I left him five days ago,” said D’Artagnan, and he portrayed with Gascon wit and sprightliness the magnificence of Porthos in his Chateau of Pierrefonds; nor did he neglect to launch a few arrows of wit at the excellent Monsieur Mouston.
+
+“I sometimes wonder,” replied Athos, smiling at that gayety which recalled the good old days, “that we could form an association of men who would be, after twenty years of separation, still so closely bound together. Friendship throws out deep roots in honest hearts, D’Artagnan. Believe me, it is only the evil-minded who deny friendship; they cannot understand it. And Aramis?”
+
+“I have seen him also,” said D’Artagnan; “but he seemed to me cold.”
+
+“Ah, you have seen Aramis?” said Athos, turning on D’Artagnan a searching look. “Why, it is a veritable pilgrimage, my dear friend, that you are making to the Temple of Friendship, as the poets would say.”
+
+“Why, yes,” replied D’Artagnan, with embarrassment.
+
+“Aramis, you know,” continued Athos, “is naturally cold, and then he is always involved in intrigues with women.”
+
+“I believe he is at this moment in a very complicated one,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+Athos made no reply.
+
+“He is not curious,” thought D’Artagnan.
+
+Athos not only failed to reply, he even changed the subject of conversation.
+
+“You see,” said he, calling D’Artagnan’s attention to the fact that they had come back to the chateau after an hour’s walk, “we have made a tour of my domains.”
+
+“All is charming and everything savors of nobility,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+At this instant they heard the sound of horses’ feet.
+
+“’Tis Raoul who has come back,” said Athos; “and we can now hear how the poor child is.”
+
+In fact, the young man appeared at the gate, covered with dust, entered the courtyard, leaped from his horse, which he consigned to the charge of a groom, and then went to greet the count and D’Artagnan.
+
+“Monsieur,” said Athos, placing his hand on D’Artagnan’s shoulder, “monsieur is the Chevalier D’Artagnan of whom you have often heard me speak, Raoul.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said the young man, saluting again and more profoundly, “monsieur le comte has pronounced your name before me as an example whenever he wished to speak of an intrepid and generous gentleman.”
+
+That little compliment could not fail to move D’Artagnan. He extended a hand to Raoul and said:
+
+“My young friend, all the praises that are given me should be passed on to the count here; for he has educated me in everything and it is not his fault that his pupil profited so little from his instructions. But he will make it up in you I am sure. I like your manner, Raoul, and your politeness has touched me.”
+
+Athos was more delighted than can be told. He looked at D’Artagnan with an expression of gratitude and then bestowed on Raoul one of those strange smiles, of which children are so proud when they receive them.
+
+“Now,” said D’Artagnan to himself, noticing that silent play of countenance, “I am sure of it.”
+
+“I hope the accident has been of no consequence?”
+
+“They don’t yet know, sir, on account of the swelling; but the doctor is afraid some tendon has been injured.”
+
+At this moment a little boy, half peasant, half foot-boy, came to announce supper.
+
+Athos led his guest into a dining-room of moderate size, the windows of which opened on one side on a garden, on the other on a hot-house full of magnificent flowers.
+
+D’Artagnan glanced at the dinner service. The plate was magnificent, old, and appertaining to the family. D’Artagnan stopped to look at a sideboard on which was a superb ewer of silver.
+
+“That workmanship is divine!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, a chef d’oeuvre of the great Florentine sculptor, Benvenuto Cellini,” replied Athos.
+
+“What battle does it represent?”
+
+“That of Marignan, just at the point where one of my forefathers is offering his sword to Francis I., who has broken his. It was on that occasion that my ancestor, Enguerrand de la Fere, was made a knight of the Order of St. Michael; besides which, the king, fifteen years afterward, gave him also this ewer and a sword which you may have seen formerly in my house, also a lovely specimen of workmanship. Men were giants in those times,” said Athos; “now we are pigmies in comparison. Let us sit down to supper. Call Charles,” he added, addressing the boy who waited.
+
+“My good Charles, I particularly recommend to your care Planchet, the laquais of Monsieur D’Artagnan. He likes good wine; now you have the key of the cellar. He has slept a long time on a hard bed, so he won’t object to a soft one; take every care of him, I beg of you.” Charles bowed and retired.
+
+“You think of everything,” said D’Artagnan; “and I thank you for Planchet, my dear Athos.”
+
+Raoul stared on hearing this name and looked at the count to be quite sure that it was he whom the lieutenant thus addressed.
+
+“That name sounds strange to you,” said Athos, smiling; “it was my nom de guerre when Monsieur D’Artagnan, two other gallant friends and myself performed some feats of arms at the siege of La Rochelle, under the deceased cardinal and Monsieur de Bassompierre. My friend is still so kind as to address me by that old and well beloved appellation, which makes my heart glad when I hear it.”
+
+“’Tis an illustrious name,” said the lieutenant, “and had one day triumphal honors paid to it.”
+
+“What do you mean, sir?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“You have not forgotten St. Gervais, Athos, and the napkin which was converted into a banner?” and he then related to Raoul the story of the bastion, and Raoul fancied he was listening to one of those deeds of arms belonging to days of chivalry, so gloriously recounted by Tasso and Ariosto.
+
+“D’Artagnan does not tell you, Raoul,” said Athos, in his turn, “that he was reckoned one of the finest swordsmen of his time — a knuckle of iron, a wrist of steel, a sure eye and a glance of fire; that’s what his adversary met with. He was eighteen, only three years older than you are, Raoul, when I saw him set to work, pitted against tried men.”
+
+“And did Monsieur D’Artagnan come off the conqueror?” asked the young man, with glistening eye.
+
+“I killed one man, if I recollect rightly,” replied D’Artagnan, with a look of inquiry directed to Athos; “another I disarmed or wounded, I don’t remember which.”
+
+“Wounded!” said Athos; “it was a phenomenon of skill.”
+
+The young man would willingly have prolonged this conversation far into the night, but Athos pointed out to him that his guest must need repose. D’Artagnan would fain have declared that he was not fatigued, but Athos insisted on his retiring to his chamber, conducted thither by Raoul.
+
+Chapter XV. Athos as a Diplomatist.
+
+D’Artagnan retired to bed — not to sleep, but to think over all he had heard that evening. Being naturally goodhearted, and having had once a liking for Athos, which had grown into a sincere friendship, he was delighted at thus meeting a man full of intelligence and moral strength, instead of a drunkard. He admitted without annoyance the continued superiority of Athos over himself, devoid as he was of that jealousy which might have saddened a less generous disposition; he was delighted also that the high qualities of Athos appeared to promise favorably for his mission. Nevertheless, it seemed to him that Athos was not in all respects sincere and frank. Who was the youth he had adopted and who bore so striking a resemblance to him? What could explain Athos’s having re-entered the world and the extreme sobriety he had observed at table? The absence of Grimaud, whose name had never once been uttered by Athos, gave D’Artagnan uneasiness. It was evident either that he no longer possessed the confidence of his friend, or that Athos was bound by some invisible chain, or that he had been forewarned of the lieutenant’s visit.
+
+He could not help thinking of M. Rochefort, whom he had seen in Notre Dame; could De Rochefort have forestalled him with Athos? Again, the moderate fortune which Athos possessed, concealed as it was, so skillfully, seemed to show a regard for appearances and to betray a latent ambition which might be easily aroused. The clear and vigorous intellect of Athos would render him more open to conviction than a less able man would be. He would enter into the minister’s schemes with the more ardor, because his natural activity would be doubled by necessity.
+
+Resolved to seek an explanation on all these points on the following day, D’Artagnan, in spite of his fatigue, prepared for an attack and determined that it should take place after breakfast. He determined to cultivate the good-will of the youth Raoul and, either whilst fencing with him or when out shooting, to extract from his simplicity some information which would connect the Athos of old times with the Athos of the present. But D’Artagnan at the same time, being a man of extreme caution, was quite aware what injury he should do himself, if by any indiscretion or awkwardness he should betray has manoeuvering to the experienced eye of Athos. Besides, to tell truth, whilst D’Artagnan was quite disposed to adopt a subtle course against the cunning of Aramis or the vanity of Porthos, he was ashamed to equivocate with Athos, true-hearted, open Athos. It seemed to him that if Porthos and Aramis deemed him superior to them in the arts of diplomacy, they would like him all the better for it; but that Athos, on the contrary, would despise him.
+
+“Ah! why is not Grimaud, the taciturn Grimaud, here?” thought D’Artagnan, “there are so many things his silence would have told me; with Grimaud silence was another form of eloquence!”
+
+There reigned a perfect stillness in the house. D’Artagnan had heard the door shut and the shutters barred; the dogs became in their turn silent. At last a nightingale, lost in a thicket of shrubs, in the midst of its most melodious cadences had fluted low and lower into stillness and fallen asleep. Not a sound was heard in the castle, except of a footstep up and down, in the chamber above — as he supposed, the bedroom of Athos.
+
+“He is walking about and thinking,” thought D’Artagnan; “but of what? It is impossible to know; everything else might be guessed, but not that.”
+
+At length Athos went to bed, apparently, for the noise ceased.
+
+Silence and fatigue together overcame D’Artagnan and sleep overtook him also. He was not, however, a good sleeper. Scarcely had dawn gilded his window curtains when he sprang out of bed and opened the windows. Somebody, he perceived, was in the courtyard, moving stealthily. True to his custom of never passing anything over that it was within his power to know, D’Artagnan looked out of the window and perceived the close red coat and brown hair of Raoul.
+
+The young man was opening the door of the stable. He then, with noiseless haste, took out the horse that he had ridden on the previous evening, saddled and bridled it himself and led the animal into the alley to the right of the kitchen-garden, opened a side door which conducted him to a bridle road, shut it after him, and D’Artagnan saw him pass by like a dart, bending, as he went, beneath the pendent flowery branches of maple and acacia. The road, as D’Artagnan had observed, was the way to Blois.
+
+“So!” thought the Gascon “here’s a young blade who has already his love affair, who doesn’t at all agree with Athos in his hatred to the fair sex. He’s not going to hunt, for he has neither dogs nor arms; he’s not going on a message, for he goes secretly. Why does he go in secret? Is he afraid of me or of his father? for I am sure the count is his father. By Jove! I shall know about that soon, for I shall soon speak out to Athos.”
+
+Day was now advanced; all the noises that had ceased the night before reawakened, one after the other. The bird on the branch, the dog in his kennel, the sheep in the field, the boats moored in the Loire, even, became alive and vocal. The latter, leaving the shore, abandoned themselves gaily to the current. The Gascon gave a last twirl to his mustache, a last turn to his hair, brushed, from habit, the brim of his hat with the sleeve of his doublet, and went downstairs. Scarcely had he descended the last step of the threshold when he saw Athos bent down toward the ground, as if he were looking for a crown-piece in the dust.
+
+“Good-morning, my dear host,” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“Good-day to you; have you slept well?”
+
+“Excellently, Athos, but what are you looking for? You are perhaps a tulip fancier?”
+
+“My dear friend, if I am, you must not laugh at me for being so. In the country people alter; one gets to like, without knowing it, all those beautiful objects that God causes to spring from the earth, which are despised in cities. I was looking anxiously for some iris roots I planted here, close to this reservoir, and which some one has trampled upon this morning. These gardeners are the most careless people in the world; in bringing the horse out to the water they’ve allowed him to walk over the border.”
+
+D’Artagnan began to smile.
+
+“Ah! you think so, do you?”
+
+And he took his friend along the alley, where a number of tracks like those which had trampled down the flowerbeds, were visible.
+
+“Here are the horse’s hoofs again, it seems, Athos,” he said carelessly.
+
+“Yes, indeed, the marks are recent.”
+
+“Quite so,” replied the lieutenant.
+
+“Who went out this morning?” Athos asked, uneasily. “Has any horse got loose?”
+
+“Not likely,” answered the Gascon; “these marks are regular.”
+
+“Where is Raoul?” asked Athos; “how is it that I have not seen him?”
+
+“Hush!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, putting his finger on his lips; and he related what he had seen, watching Athos all the while.
+
+“Ah, he’s gone to Blois; the poor boy — — ”
+
+“Wherefore?”
+
+“Ah, to inquire after the little La Valliere; she has sprained her foot, you know.”
+
+“You think he has?”
+
+“I am sure of it,” said Athos; “don’t you see that Raoul is in love?”
+
+“Indeed! with whom — with a child seven years old?”
+
+“Dear friend, at Raoul’s age the heart is so expansive that it must encircle one object or another, fancied or real. Well, his love is half real, half fanciful. She is the prettiest little creature in the world, with flaxen hair, blue eyes, — at once saucy and languishing.”
+
+“But what say you to Raoul’s fancy?”
+
+“Nothing — I laugh at Raoul; but this first desire of the heart is imperious. I remember, just at his age, how deep in love I was with a Grecian statue which our good king, then Henry IV., gave my father, insomuch that I was mad with grief when they told me that the story of Pygmalion was nothing but a fable.”
+
+“It is mere want of occupation. You do not make Raoul work, so he takes his own way of employing himself.”
+
+“Exactly; therefore I think of sending him away from here.”
+
+“You will be wise to do so.”
+
+“No doubt of it; but it will break his heart. So long as three or four years ago he used to adorn and adore his little idol, whom he will some day fall in love with in right earnest if he remains here. The parents of little La Valliere have for a long time perceived and been amused at it; now they begin to look concerned.”
+
+“Nonsense! However, Raoul must be diverted from this fancy. Send him away or you will never make a man of him.”
+
+“I think I shall send him to Paris.”
+
+“So!” thought D’Artagnan, and it seemed to him that the moment for attack had arrived.
+
+“Suppose,” he said, “we roughly chalk out a career for this young man. I wish to consult you about some thing.”
+
+“Do so.”
+
+“Do you think it is time for us to enter the service?”
+
+“But are you not still in the service — you, D’Artagnan?”
+
+“I mean active service. Our former life, has it still no attractions for you? would you not be happy to begin anew in my society and in that of Porthos, the exploits of our youth?”
+
+“Do you propose to me to do so, D’Artagnan?”
+
+“Decidedly and honestly.”
+
+“On whose side?” asked Athos, fixing his clear, benevolent glance on the countenance of the Gascon.
+
+“Ah, devil take it, you speak in earnest — — ”
+
+“And must have a definite answer. Listen, D’Artagnan. There is but one person, or rather, one cause, to whom a man like me can be useful — that of the king.”
+
+“Exactly,” answered the musketeer.
+
+“Yes, but let us understand each other,” returned Athos, seriously. “If by the cause of the king you mean that of Monsieur de Mazarin, we do not understand each other.”
+
+“I don’t say exactly,” answered the Gascon, confused.
+
+“Come, D’Artagnan, don’t let us play a sidelong game; your hesitation, your evasion, tells me at once on whose side you are; for that party no one dares openly to recruit, and when people recruit for it, it is with averted eyes and humble voice.”
+
+“Ah! my dear Athos!”
+
+“You know that I am not alluding to you; you are the pearl of brave, bold men. I speak of that spiteful and intriguing Italian — of the pedant who has tried to put on his own head a crown which he stole from under a pillow — of the scoundrel who calls his party the party of the king — who wants to send the princes of the blood to prison, not daring to kill them, as our great cardinal — our cardinal did — of the miser, who weighs his gold pieces and keeps the clipped ones for fear, though he is rich, of losing them at play next morning — of the impudent fellow who insults the queen, as they say — so much the worse for her — and who is going in three months to make war upon us, in order that he may retain his pensions; is that the master whom you propose to me? I thank you, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“You are more impetuous than you were,” returned D’Artagnan. “Age has warmed, not chilled your blood. Who informed you this was the master I propose to you? Devil take it,” he muttered to himself, “don’t let me betray my secrets to a man not inclined to entertain them.”
+
+“Well, then,” said Athos, “what are your schemes? what do you propose?”
+
+“Zounds! nothing more than natural. You live on your estate, happy in golden mediocrity. Porthos has, perhaps, sixty thousand francs income. Aramis has always fifty duchesses quarreling over the priest, as they quarreled formerly over the musketeer; but I — what have I in the world? I have worn my cuirass these twenty years, kept down in this inferior rank, without going forward or backward, hardly half living. In fact, I am dead. Well! when there is some idea of being resuscitated, you say he’s a scoundrel, an impudent fellow, a miser, a bad master! By Jove! I am of your opinion, but find me a better one or give me the means of living.”
+
+Athos was for a few moments thoughtful.
+
+“Good! D’Artagnan is for Mazarin,” he said to himself.
+
+From that moment he grew very guarded.
+
+On his side D’Artagnan became more cautious also.
+
+“You spoke to me,” Athos resumed, “of Porthos; have you persuaded him to seek his fortune? But he has wealth, I believe, already.”
+
+“Doubtless he has. But such is man, we always want something more than we already have.”
+
+“What does Porthos wish for?”
+
+“To be a baron.”
+
+“Ah, true! I forgot,” said Athos, laughing.
+
+“’Tis true!” thought the Gascon, “where has he heard it? Does he correspond with Aramis? Ah! if I knew that he did I should know all.”
+
+The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Raoul.
+
+“Is our little neighbor worse?” asked D’Artagnan, seeing a look of vexation on the face of the youth.
+
+“Ah, sir!” replied Raoul, “her fall is a very serious one, and without any ostensible injury, the physician fears she will be lame for life.”
+
+“This is terrible,” said Athos.
+
+“And what makes me all the more wretched, sir, is, that I was the cause of this misfortune.”
+
+“How so?” asked Athos.
+
+“It was to run to meet me that she leaped from that pile of wood.”
+
+“There’s only one remedy, dear Raoul — that is, to marry her as a compensation.” remarked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Ah, sir!” answered Raoul, “you joke about a real misfortune; that is cruel, indeed.”
+
+The good understanding between the two friends was not in the least altered by the morning’s skirmish. They breakfasted with a good appetite, looking now and then at poor Raoul, who with moist eyes and a full heart, scarcely ate at all.
+
+After breakfast two letters arrived for Athos, who read them with profound attention, whilst D’Artagnan could not restrain himself from jumping up several times on seeing him read these epistles, in one of which, there being at the time a very strong light, he perceived the fine writing of Aramis. The other was in a feminine hand, long, and crossed.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan to Raoul, seeing that Athos wished to be alone, “come, let us take a turn in the fencing gallery; that will amuse you.”
+
+And they both went into a low room where there were foils, gloves, masks, breastplates, and all the accessories for a fencing match.
+
+In a quarter of an hour Athos joined them and at the same moment Charles brought in a letter for D’Artagnan, which a messenger had just desired might be instantly delivered.
+
+It was now Athos’s turn to take a sly look.
+
+D’Artagnan read the letter with apparent calmness and said, shaking his head:
+
+“See, dear friend, what it is to belong to the army. Faith, you are indeed right not to return to it. Monsieur de Tréville is ill, so my company can’t do without me; there! my leave is at an end!”
+
+“Do you return to Paris?” asked Athos, quickly.
+
+“Egad! yes; but why don’t you come there also?”
+
+Athos colored a little and answered:
+
+“Should I go, I shall be delighted to see you there.”
+
+“Halloo, Planchet!” cried the Gascon from the door, “we must set out in ten minutes; give the horses some hay.”
+
+Then turning to Athos he added:
+
+“I seem to miss something here. I am really sorry to go away without having seen Grimaud.”
+
+“Grimaud!” replied Athos. “I’m surprised you have never so much as asked after him. I have lent him to a friend — — ”
+
+“Who will understand the signs he makes?” returned D’Artagnan.
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+The friends embraced cordially; D’Artagnan pressed Raoul’s hand.
+
+“Will you not come with me?” he said; “I shall pass by Blois.”
+
+Raoul turned toward Athos, who showed him by a secret sign that he did not wish him to go.
+
+“No, monsieur,” replied the young man; “I will remain with monsieur le comte.”
+
+“Adieu, then, to both, my good friends,” said D’Artagnan; “may God preserve you! as we used to say when we said good-bye to each other in the late cardinal’s time.”
+
+Athos waved his hand, Raoul bowed, and D’Artagnan and Planchet set out.
+
+The count followed them with his eyes, his hands resting on the shoulders of the youth, whose height was almost equal to his own; but as soon as they were out of sight he said:
+
+“Raoul, we set out to-night for Paris.”
+
+“Eh?” cried the young man, turning pale.
+
+“You may go and offer your adieux and mine to Madame de Saint-Remy. I shall wait for you here till seven.”
+
+The young man bent low, with an expression of sorrow and gratitude mingled, and retired in order to saddle his horse.
+
+As to D’Artagnan, scarcely, on his side, was he out of sight when he drew from his pocket a letter, which he read over again:
+
+“Return immediately to Paris. — J. M — — .”
+
+“The epistle is laconic,” said D’Artagnan; “and if there had not been a postscript, probably I should not have understood it; but happily there is a postscript.”
+
+And he read that welcome postscript, which made him forget the abruptness of the letter.
+
+“P. S. — Go to the king’s treasurer, at Blois; tell him your name and show him this letter; you will receive two hundred pistoles.”
+
+“Assuredly,” said D’Artagnan, “I admire this piece of prose. The cardinal writes better than I thought. Come, Planchet, let us pay a visit to the king’s treasurer and then set off.”
+
+“Toward Paris, sir?”
+
+“Toward Paris.”
+
+And they set out at as hard a canter as their horses could maintain.
+
+Chapter XVI. The Duc de Beaufort.
+
+The circumstances that had hastened the return of D’Artagnan to Paris were as follows:
+
+One evening, when Mazarin, according to custom, went to visit the queen, in passing the guard-chamber he heard loud voices; wishing to know on what topic the soldiers were conversing, he approached with his wonted wolf-like step, pushed open the door and put his head close to the chink.
+
+There was a dispute among the guards.
+
+“I tell you,” one of them was saying, “that if Coysel predicted that, ’tis as good as true; I know nothing about it, but I have heard say that he’s not only an astrologer, but a magician.”
+
+“Deuce take it, friend, if he’s one of thy friends thou wilt ruin him in saying so.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because he may be tried for it.”
+
+“Ah! absurd! they don’t burn sorcerers nowadays.”
+
+“No? ’Tis not a long time since the late cardinal burnt Urban Grandier, though.”
+
+“My friend, Urban Grandier wasn’t a sorcerer, he was a learned man. He didn’t predict the future, he knew the past — often a more dangerous thing.”
+
+Mazarin nodded an assent, but wishing to know what this prediction was, about which they disputed, he remained in the same place.
+
+“I don’t say,” resumed the guard, “that Coysel is not a sorcerer, but I say that if his prophecy gets wind, it’s a sure way to prevent it’s coming true.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Why, in this way: if Coysel says loud enough for the cardinal to hear him, on such or such a day such a prisoner will escape, ’tis plain that the cardinal will take measures of precaution and that the prisoner will not escape.”
+
+“Good Lord!” said another guard, who might have been thought asleep on a bench, but who had lost not a syllable of the conversation, “do you suppose that men can escape their destiny? If it is written yonder, in Heaven, that the Duc de Beaufort is to escape, he will escape; and all the precautions of the cardinal will not prevent it.”
+
+Mazarin started. He was an Italian and therefore superstitious. He walked straight into the midst of the guards, who on seeing him were silent.
+
+“What were you saying?” he asked with his flattering manner; “that Monsieur de Beaufort had escaped, were you not?”
+
+“Oh, no, my lord!” said the incredulous soldier. “He’s well guarded now; we only said he would escape.”
+
+“Who said so?”
+
+“Repeat your story, Saint Laurent,” replied the man, turning to the originator of the tale.
+
+“My lord,” said the guard, “I have simply mentioned the prophecy I heard from a man named Coysel, who believes that, be he ever so closely watched and guarded, the Duke of Beaufort will escape before Whitsuntide.”
+
+“Coysel is a madman!” returned the cardinal.
+
+“No,” replied the soldier, tenacious in his credulity; “he has foretold many things which have come to pass; for instance, that the queen would have a son; that Monsieur Coligny would be killed in a duel with the Duc de Guise; and finally, that the coadjutor would be made cardinal. Well! the queen has not only one son, but two; then, Monsieur de Coligny was killed, and — — ”
+
+“Yes,” said Mazarin, “but the coadjutor is not yet made cardinal!”
+
+“No, my lord, but he will be,” answered the guard.
+
+Mazarin made a grimace, as if he meant to say, “But he does not wear the cardinal’s cap;” then he added:
+
+“So, my friend, it’s your opinion that Monsieur de Beaufort will escape?”
+
+“That’s my idea, my lord; and if your eminence were to offer to make me at this moment governor of the castle of Vincennes, I should refuse it. After Whitsuntide it would be another thing.”
+
+There is nothing so convincing as a firm conviction. It has its own effect upon the most incredulous; and far from being incredulous, Mazarin was superstitious. He went away thoughtful and anxious and returned to his own room, where he summoned Bernouin and desired him to fetch thither in the morning the special guard he had placed over Monsieur de Beaufort and to awaken him whenever he should arrive.
+
+The guard had, in fact, touched the cardinal in the tenderest point. During the whole five years in which the Duc de Beaufort had been in prison not a day had passed in which the cardinal had not felt a secret dread of his escape. It was not possible, as he knew well, to confine for the whole of his life the grandson of Henry IV., especially when this young prince was scarcely thirty years of age. But however and whensoever he did escape, what hatred he must cherish against him to whom he owed his long imprisonment; who had taken him, rich, brave, glorious, beloved by women, feared by men, to cut off his life’s best, happiest years; for it is not life, it is merely existence, in prison! Meantime, Mazarin redoubled his surveillance over the duke. But like the miser in the fable, he could not sleep for thinking of his treasure. Often he awoke in the night, suddenly, dreaming that he had been robbed of Monsieur de Beaufort. Then he inquired about him and had the vexation of hearing that the prisoner played, drank, sang, but that whilst playing, drinking, singing, he often stopped short to vow that Mazarin should pay dear for all the amusements he had forced him to enter into at Vincennes.
+
+So much did this one idea haunt the cardinal even in his sleep, that when at seven in the morning Bernouin came to arouse him, his first words were: “Well, what’s the matter? Has Monsieur de Beaufort escaped from Vincennes?”
+
+“I do not think so, my lord,” said Bernouin; “but you will hear about him, for La Ramee is here and awaits the commands of your eminence.”
+
+“Tell him to come in,” said Mazarin, arranging his pillows, so that he might receive the visitor sitting up in bed.
+
+The officer entered, a large fat man, with an open physiognomy. His air of perfect serenity made Mazarin uneasy.
+
+“Approach, sir,” said the cardinal.
+
+The officer obeyed.
+
+“Do you know what they are saying here?”
+
+“No, your eminence.”
+
+“Well, they say that Monsieur de Beaufort is going to escape from Vincennes, if he has not done so already.”
+
+The officer’s face expressed complete stupefaction. He opened at once his little eyes and his great mouth, to inhale better the joke his eminence deigned to address to him, and ended by a burst of laughter, so violent that his great limbs shook in hilarity as they would have done in an ague.
+
+“Escape! my lord — escape! Your eminence does not then know where Monsieur de Beaufort is?”
+
+“Yes, I do, sir; in the donjon of Vincennes.”
+
+“Yes, sir; in a room, the walls of which are seven feet thick, with grated windows, each bar as thick as my arm.”
+
+“Sir,” replied Mazarin, “with perseverance one may penetrate through a wall; with a watch-spring one may saw through an iron bar.”
+
+“Then my lord does not know that there are eight guards about him, four in his chamber, four in the antechamber, and that they never leave him.”
+
+“But he leaves his room, he plays at tennis at the Mall?”
+
+“Sir, those amusements are allowed; but if your eminence wishes it, we will discontinue the permission.”
+
+“No, no!” cried Mazarin, fearing that should his prisoner ever leave his prison he would be the more exasperated against him if he thus retrenched his amusement. He then asked with whom he played.
+
+“My lord, either with the officers of the guard, with the other prisoners, or with me.”
+
+“But does he not approach the walls while playing?”
+
+“Your eminence doesn’t know those walls; they are sixty feet high and I doubt if Monsieur de Beaufort is sufficiently weary of life to risk his neck by jumping off.”
+
+“Hum!” said the cardinal, beginning to feel more comfortable. “You mean to say, then, my dear Monsieur la Ramee — — ”
+
+“That unless Monsieur de Beaufort can contrive to metamorphose himself into a little bird, I will continue answerable for him.”
+
+“Take care! you assert a great deal,” said Mazarin. “Monsieur de Beaufort told the guards who took him to Vincennes that he had often thought what he should do in case he were put into prison, and that he had found out forty ways of escaping.”
+
+“My lord, if among these forty there had been one good way he would have been out long ago.”
+
+“Come, come; not such a fool as I fancied!” thought Mazarin.
+
+“Besides, my lord must remember that Monsieur de Chavigny is governor of Vincennes,” continued La Ramee, “and that Monsieur de Chavigny is not friendly to Monsieur de Beaufort.”
+
+“Yes, but Monsieur de Chavigny is sometimes absent.”
+
+“When he is absent I am there.”
+
+“But when you leave him, for instance?”
+
+“Oh! when I leave him, I place in my stead a bold fellow who aspires to be his majesty’s special guard. I promise you he keeps a good watch over the prisoner. During the three weeks that he has been with me, I have only had to reproach him with one thing — being too severe with the prisoners.”
+
+“And who is this Cerberus?”
+
+“A certain Monsieur Grimaud, my lord.”
+
+“And what was he before he went to Vincennes?”
+
+“He was in the country, as I was told by the person who recommended him to me.”
+
+“And who recommended this man to you?”
+
+“The steward of the Duc de Grammont.”
+
+“He is not a gossip, I hope?”
+
+“Lord a mercy, my lord! I thought for a long time that he was dumb; he answers only by signs. It seems his former master accustomed him to that.”
+
+“Well, dear Monsieur la Ramee,” replied the cardinal “let him prove a true and thankful keeper and we will shut our eyes upon his rural misdeeds and put on his back a uniform to make him respectable, and in the pockets of that uniform some pistoles to drink to the king’s health.”
+
+Mazarin was large in promises, — quite unlike the virtuous Monsieur Grimaud so bepraised by La Ramee; for he said nothing and did much.
+
+It was now nine o’clock. The cardinal, therefore, got up, perfumed himself, dressed, and went to the queen to tell her what had detained him. The queen, who was scarcely less afraid of Monsieur de Beaufort than the cardinal himself, and who was almost as superstitious as he was, made him repeat word for word all La Ramee’s praises of his deputy. Then, when the cardinal had ended:
+
+“Alas, sir! why have we not a Grimaud near every prince?”
+
+“Patience!” replied Mazarin, with his Italian smile; “that may happen one day; but in the meantime — — ”
+
+“Well, in the meantime?”
+
+“I shall still take precautions.”
+
+And he wrote to D’Artagnan to hasten his return.
+
+Chapter XVII. Duc de Beaufort amused his Leisure Hours in the Donjon of Vincennes.
+
+The captive who was the source of so much alarm to the cardinal and whose means of escape disturbed the repose of the whole court, was wholly unconscious of the terror he caused at the Palais Royal.
+
+He had found himself so strictly guarded that he soon perceived the fruitlessness of any attempt at escape. His vengeance, therefore, consisted in coining curses on the head of Mazarin; he even tried to make some verses on him, but soon gave up the attempt, for Monsieur de Beaufort had not only not received from Heaven the gift of versifying, he had the greatest difficulty in expressing himself in prose.
+
+The duke was the grandson of Henry IV. and Gabrielle d’Estrees — as good-natured, as brave, as proud, and above all, as Gascon as his ancestor, but less elaborately educated. After having been for some time after the death of Louis XIII. the favorite, the confidant, the first man, in short, at the court, he had been obliged to yield his place to Mazarin and so became the second in influence and favor; and eventually, as he was stupid enough to be vexed at this change of position, the queen had had him arrested and sent to Vincennes in charge of Guitant, who made his appearance in these pages in the beginning of this history and whom we shall see again. It is understood, of course, that when we say “the queen,” Mazarin is meant.
+
+During the five years of this seclusion, which would have improved and matured the intellect of any other man, M. de Beaufort, had he not affected to brave the cardinal, despise princes, and walk alone without adherents or disciples, would either have regained his liberty or made partisans. But these considerations never occurred to the duke and every day the cardinal received fresh accounts of him which were as unpleasant as possible to the minister.
+
+After having failed in poetry, Monsieur de Beaufort tried drawing. He drew portraits, with a piece of coal, of the cardinal; and as his talents did not enable him to produce a very good likeness, he wrote under the picture that there might be little doubt regarding the original: “Portrait of the Illustrious Coxcomb, Mazarin.” Monsieur de Chavigny, the governor of Vincennes, waited upon the duke to request that he would amuse himself in some other way, or that at all events, if he drew likenesses, he would not put mottoes underneath them. The next day the prisoner’s room was full of pictures and mottoes. Monsieur de Beaufort, in common with many other prisoners, was bent upon doing things that were prohibited; and the only resource the governor had was, one day when the duke was playing at tennis, to efface all these drawings, consisting chiefly of profiles. M. de Beaufort did not venture to draw the cardinal’s fat face.
+
+The duke thanked Monsieur de Chavigny for having, as he said, cleaned his drawing-paper for him; he then divided the walls of his room into compartments and dedicated each of these compartments to some incident in Mazarin’s life. In one was depicted the “Illustrious Coxcomb” receiving a shower of blows from Cardinal Bentivoglio, whose servant he had been; another, the “Illustrious Mazarin” acting the part of Ignatius Loyola in a tragedy of that name; a third, the “Illustrious Mazarin” stealing the portfolio of prime minister from Monsieur de Chavigny, who had expected to have it; a fourth, the “Illustrious Coxcomb Mazarin” refusing to give Laporte, the young king’s valet, clean sheets, and saving that “it was quite enough for the king of France to have clean sheets every three months.”
+
+The governor, of course, thought proper to threaten his prisoner that if he did not give up drawing such pictures he should be obliged to deprive him of all the means of amusing himself in that manner. To this Monsieur de Beaufort replied that since every opportunity of distinguishing himself in arms was taken from him, he wished to make himself celebrated in the arts; since he could not be a Bayard, he would become a Raphael or a Michael Angelo. Nevertheless, one day when Monsieur de Beaufort was walking in the meadow his fire was put out, his charcoal all removed, taken away; and thus his means of drawing utterly destroyed.
+
+The poor duke swore, fell into a rage, yelled, and declared that they wished to starve him to death as they had starved the Marechal Ornano and the Grand Prior of Vendome; but he refused to promise that he would not make any more drawings and remained without any fire in the room all the winter.
+
+His next act was to purchase a dog from one of his keepers. With this animal, which he called Pistache, he was often shut up for hours alone, superintending, as every one supposed, its education. At last, when Pistache was sufficiently well trained, Monsieur de Beaufort invited the governor and officers of Vincennes to attend a representation which he was going to have in his apartment.
+
+The party assembled, the room was lighted with waxlights, and the prisoner, with a bit of plaster he had taken out of the wall of his room, had traced a long white line, representing a cord, on the floor. Pistache, on a signal from his master, placed himself on this line, raised himself on his hind paws, and holding in his front paws a wand with which clothes used to be beaten, he began to dance upon the line with as many contortions as a rope-dancer. Having been several times up and down it, he gave the wand back to his master and began without hesitation to perform the same evolutions over again.
+
+The intelligent creature was received with loud applause.
+
+The first part of the entertainment being concluded Pistache was desired to say what o’clock it was; he was shown Monsieur de Chavigny’s watch; it was then half-past six; the dog raised and dropped his paw six times; the seventh he let it remain upraised. Nothing could be better done; a sun-dial could not have shown the hour with greater precision.
+
+Then the question was put to him who was the best jailer in all the prisons in France.
+
+The dog performed three evolutions around the circle and laid himself, with the deepest respect, at the feet of Monsieur de Chavigny, who at first seemed inclined to like the joke and laughed long and loud, but a frown succeeded, and he bit his lips with vexation.
+
+Then the duke put to Pistache this difficult question, who was the greatest thief in the world?
+
+Pistache went again around the circle, but stopped at no one, and at last went to the door and began to scratch and bark.
+
+“See, gentlemen,” said M. de Beaufort, “this wonderful animal, not finding here what I ask for, seeks it out of doors; you shall, however, have his answer. Pistache, my friend, come here. Is not the greatest thief in the world, Monsieur (the king’s secretary) Le Camus, who came to Paris with twenty francs in his pocket and who now possesses ten millions?”
+
+The dog shook his head.
+
+“Then is it not,” resumed the duke, “the Superintendent Emery, who gave his son, when he was married, three hundred thousand francs and a house, compared to which the Tuileries are a heap of ruins and the Louvre a paltry building?”
+
+The dog again shook his head as if to say “no.”
+
+“Then,” said the prisoner, “let’s think who it can be. Can it be, can it possibly be, the ‘Illustrious Coxcomb, Mazarin de Piscina,’ hey?”
+
+Pistache made violent signs that it was, by raising and lowering his head eight or ten times successively.
+
+“Gentlemen, you see,” said the duke to those present, who dared not even smile, “that it is the ‘Illustrious Coxcomb’ who is the greatest thief in the world; at least, according to Pistache.”
+
+“Let us go on to another of his exercises.”
+
+“Gentlemen!” — there was a profound silence in the room when the duke again addressed them — “do you not remember that the Duc de Guise taught all the dogs in Paris to jump for Mademoiselle de Pons, whom he styled ‘the fairest of the fair?’ Pistache is going to show you how superior he is to all other dogs. Monsieur de Chavigny, be so good as to lend me your cane.”
+
+Monsieur de Chavigny handed his cane to Monsieur de Beaufort. Monsieur de Beaufort placed it horizontally at the height of one foot.
+
+“Now, Pistache, my good dog, jump the height of this cane for Madame de Montbazon.”
+
+“But,” interposed Monsieur de Chavigny, “it seems to me that Pistache is only doing what other dogs have done when they jumped for Mademoiselle de Pons.”
+
+“Stop,” said the duke, “Pistache, jump for the queen.” And he raised his cane six inches higher.
+
+The dog sprang, and in spite of the height jumped lightly over it.
+
+“And now,” said the duke, raising it still six inches higher, “jump for the king.”
+
+The dog obeyed and jumped quickly over the cane.
+
+“Now, then,” said the duke, and as he spoke, lowered the cane almost level with the ground; “Pistache, my friend, jump for the ‘Illustrious Coxcomb, Mazarin de Piscina.’”
+
+The dog turned his back to the cane.
+
+“What,” asked the duke, “what do you mean?” and he gave him the cane again, first making a semicircle from the head to the tail of Pistache. “Jump then, Monsieur Pistache.”
+
+But Pistache, as at first, turned round on his legs and stood with his back to the cane.
+
+Monsieur de Beaufort made the experiment a third time, but by this time Pistache’s patience was exhausted; he threw himself furiously upon the cane, wrested it from the hands of the prince and broke it with his teeth.
+
+Monsieur de Beaufort took the pieces out of his mouth and presented them with great formality to Monsieur de Chavigny, saying that for that evening the entertainment was ended, but in three months it should be repeated, when Pistache would have learned a few new tricks.
+
+Three days afterward Pistache was found dead — poisoned.
+
+Then the duke said openly that his dog had been killed by a drug with which they meant to poison him; and one day after dinner he went to bed, calling out that he had pains in his stomach and that Mazarin had poisoned him.
+
+This fresh impertinence reached the ears of the cardinal and alarmed him greatly. The donjon of Vincennes was considered very unhealthy and Madame de Rambouillet had said that the room in which the Marechal Ornano and the Grand Prior de Vendome had died was worth its weight in arsenic — a bon mot which had great success. So it was ordered the prisoner was henceforth to eat nothing that had not previously been tasted, and La Ramee was in consequence placed near him as taster.
+
+Every kind of revenge was practiced upon the duke by the governor in return for the insults of the innocent Pistache. De Chavigny, who, according to report, was a son of Richelieu’s, and had been a creature of the late cardinal’s, understood tyranny. He took from the duke all the steel knives and silver forks and replaced them with silver knives and wooden forks, pretending that as he had been informed that the duke was to pass all his life at Vincennes, he was afraid of his prisoner attempting suicide. A fortnight afterward the duke, going to the tennis court, found two rows of trees about the size of his little finger planted by the roadside; he asked what they were for and was told that they were to shade him from the sun on some future day. One morning the gardener went to him and told him, as if to please him, that he was going to plant a bed of asparagus for his especial use. Now, since, as every one knows, asparagus takes four years in coming to perfection, this civility infuriated Monsieur de Beaufort.
+
+At last his patience was exhausted. He assembled his keepers, and notwithstanding his well-known difficulty of utterance, addressed them as follows:
+
+“Gentlemen! will you permit a grandson of Henry IV. to be overwhelmed with insults and ignominy?
+
+“Odds fish! as my grandfather used to say, I once reigned in Paris! do you know that? I had the king and Monsieur the whole of one day in my care. The queen at that time liked me and called me the most honest man in the kingdom. Gentlemen and citizens, set me free; I shall go to the Louvre and strangle Mazarin. You shall be my body-guard. I will make you all captains, with good pensions! Odds fish! On! march forward!”
+
+But eloquent as he might be, the eloquence of the grandson of Henry IV. did not touch those hearts of stone; not one man stirred, so Monsieur de Beaufort was obliged to be satisfied with calling them all kinds of rascals underneath the sun.
+
+Sometimes, when Monsieur de Chavigny paid him a visit, the duke used to ask him what he should think if he saw an army of Parisians, all fully armed, appear at Vincennes to deliver him from prison.
+
+“My lord,” answered De Chavigny, with a low bow, “I have on the ramparts twenty pieces of artillery and in my casemates thirty thousand guns. I should bombard the troops till not one grain of gunpowder was unexploded.”
+
+“Yes, but after you had fired off your thirty thousand guns they would take the donjon; the donjon being taken, I should be obliged to let them hang you — at which I should be most unhappy, certainly.”
+
+And in his turn the duke bowed low to Monsieur de Chavigny.
+
+“For myself, on the other hand, my lord,” returned the governor, “when the first rebel should pass the threshold of my postern doors I should be obliged to kill you with my own hand, since you were confided peculiarly to my care and as I am obliged to give you up, dead or alive.”
+
+And once more he bowed low before his highness.
+
+These bitter-sweet pleasantries lasted ten minutes, sometimes longer, but always finished thus:
+
+Monsieur de Chavigny, turning toward the door, used to call out: “Halloo! La Ramee!”
+
+La Ramee came into the room.
+
+“La Ramee, I recommend Monsieur le Duc to you, particularly; treat him as a man of his rank and family ought to be treated; that is, never leave him alone an instant.”
+
+La Ramee became, therefore, the duke’s dinner guest by compulsion — an eternal keeper, the shadow of his person; but La Ramee — gay, frank, convivial, fond of play, a great hand at tennis, had one defect in the duke’s eyes — his incorruptibility.
+
+Now, although La Ramee appreciated, as of a certain value, the honor of being shut up with a prisoner of so great importance, still the pleasure of living in intimacy with the grandson of Henry IV. hardly compensated for the loss of that which he had experienced in going from time to time to visit his family.
+
+One may be a jailer or a keeper and at the same time a good father and husband. La Ramee adored his wife and children, whom now he could only catch a glimpse of from the top of the wall, when in order to please him they used to walk on the opposite side of the moat. ’Twas too brief an enjoyment, and La Ramee felt that the gayety of heart he had regarded as the cause of health (of which it was perhaps rather the result) would not long survive such a mode of life.
+
+He accepted, therefore, with delight, an offer made to him by his friend the steward of the Duc de Grammont, to give him a substitute; he also spoke of it to Monsieur de Chavigny, who promised that he would not oppose it in any way — that is, if he approved of the person proposed.
+
+We consider it useless to draw a physical or moral portrait of Grimaud; if, as we hope, our readers have not wholly forgotten the first part of this work, they must have preserved a clear idea of that estimable individual, who is wholly unchanged, except that he is twenty years older, an advance in life that has made him only more silent; although, since the change that had been working in himself, Athos had given Grimaud permission to speak.
+
+But Grimaud had for twelve or fifteen years preserved habitual silence, and a habit of fifteen or twenty years’ duration becomes second nature.
+
+Chapter XVIII. Grimaud begins his Functions.
+
+Grimaud thereupon presented himself with his smooth exterior at the donjon of Vincennes. Now Monsieur de Chavigny piqued himself on his infallible penetration; for that which almost proved that he was the son of Richelieu was his everlasting pretension; he examined attentively the countenance of the applicant for place and fancied that the contracted eyebrows, thin lips, hooked nose, and prominent cheek-bones of Grimaud were favorable signs. He addressed about twelve words to him; Grimaud answered in four.
+
+“Here’s a promising fellow and it is I who have found out his merits,” said Monsieur de Chavigny. “Go,” he added, “and make yourself agreeable to Monsieur la Ramee, and tell him that you suit me in all respects.”
+
+Grimaud had every quality that could attract a man on duty who wishes to have a deputy. So, after a thousand questions which met with only a word in reply, La Ramee, fascinated by this sobriety in speech, rubbed his hands and engaged Grimaud.
+
+“My orders?” asked Grimaud.
+
+“They are these; never to leave the prisoner alone; to keep away from him every pointed or cutting instrument, and to prevent his conversing any length of time with the keepers.”
+
+“Those are all?” asked Grimaud.
+
+“All now,” replied La Ramee.
+
+“Good,” answered Grimaud; and he went right to the prisoner.
+
+The duke was in the act of combing his beard, which he had allowed to grow, as well as his hair, in order to reproach Mazarin with his wretched appearance and condition. But having some days previously seen from the top of the donjon Madame de Montbazon pass in her carriage, and still cherishing an affection for that beautiful woman, he did not wish to be to her what he wished to be to Mazarin, and in the hope of seeing her again, had asked for a leaden comb, which was allowed him. The comb was to be a leaden one, because his beard, like that of most fair people, was rather red; he therefore dyed it thus whilst combing it.
+
+As Grimaud entered he saw this comb on the tea-table; he took it up, and as he took it he made a low bow.
+
+The duke looked at this strange figure with surprise. The figure put the comb in its pocket.
+
+“Ho! hey! what’s that?” cried the duke. “Who is this creature?”
+
+Grimaud did not answer, but bowed a second time.
+
+“Art thou dumb?” cried the duke.
+
+Grimaud made a sign that he was not.
+
+“What art thou, then? Answer! I command thee!” said the duke.
+
+“A keeper,” replied Grimaud.
+
+“A keeper!” reiterated the duke; “there was nothing wanting in my collection, except this gallows-bird. Halloo! La Ramee! some one!”
+
+La Ramee ran in haste to obey the call.
+
+“Who is this wretch who takes my comb and puts it in his pocket?” asked the duke.
+
+“One of your guards, my prince; a man of talent and merit, whom you will like, as I and Monsieur de Chavigny do, I am sure.”
+
+“Why does he take my comb?”
+
+“Why do you take my lord’s comb?” asked La Ramee.
+
+Grimaud drew the comb from his pocket and passing his fingers over the largest teeth, pronounced this one word, “Pointed.”
+
+“True,” said La Ramee.
+
+“What does the animal say?” asked the duke.
+
+“That the king has forbidden your lordship to have any pointed instrument.”
+
+“Are you mad, La Ramee? You yourself gave me this comb.”
+
+“I was very wrong, my lord, for in giving it to you I acted in opposition to my orders.”
+
+The duke looked furiously at Grimaud.
+
+“I perceive that this creature will be my particular aversion,” he muttered.
+
+Grimaud, nevertheless, was resolved for certain reasons not at once to come to a full rupture with the prisoner; he wanted to inspire, not a sudden repugnance, but a good, sound, steady hatred; he retired, therefore, and gave place to four guards, who, having breakfasted, could attend on the prisoner.
+
+A fresh practical joke now occurred to the duke. He had asked for crawfish for his breakfast on the following morning; he intended to pass the day in making a small gallows and hang one of the finest of these fish in the middle of his room — the red color evidently conveying an allusion to the cardinal — so that he might have the pleasure of hanging Mazarin in effigy without being accused of having hung anything more significant than a crawfish.
+
+The day was employed in preparations for the execution. Every one grows childish in prison, but the character of Monsieur de Beaufort was particularly disposed to become so. In the course of his morning’s walk he collected two or three small branches from a tree and found a small piece of broken glass, a discovery that quite delighted him. When he came home he formed his handkerchief into a loop.
+
+Nothing of all this escaped Grimaud, but La Ramee looked on with the curiosity of a father who thinks that he may perhaps get a cheap idea concerning a new toy for his children. The guards looked on it with indifference. When everything was ready, the gallows hung in the middle of the room, the loop made, and when the duke had cast a glance upon the plate of crawfish, in order to select the finest specimen among them, he looked around for his piece of glass; it had disappeared.
+
+“Who has taken my piece of glass?” asked the duke, frowning. Grimaud made a sign to denote that he had done so.
+
+“What! thou again! Why didst thou take it?”
+
+“Yes — why?” asked La Ramee.
+
+Grimaud, who held the piece of glass in his hand, said: “Sharp.”
+
+“True, my lord!” exclaimed La Ramee. “Ah! deuce take it! we have a precious fellow here!”
+
+“Monsieur Grimaud!” said the duke, “for your sake I beg of you, never come within the reach of my fist!”
+
+“Hush! hush!” cried La Ramee, “give me your gibbet, my lord. I will shape it out for you with my knife.”
+
+And he took the gibbet and shaped it out as neatly as possible.
+
+“That’s it,” said the duke, “now make me a little hole in the floor whilst I go and fetch the culprit.”
+
+La Ramee knelt down and made a hole in the floor; meanwhile the duke hung the crawfish up by a thread. Then he placed the gibbet in the middle of the room, bursting with laughter.
+
+La Ramee laughed also and the guards laughed in chorus; Grimaud, however, did not even smile. He approached La Ramee and showing him the crawfish hung up by the thread:
+
+“Cardinal,” he said.
+
+“Hung by order of his Highness the Duc de Beaufort!” cried the prisoner, laughing violently, “and by Master Jacques Chrysostom La Ramee, the king’s commissioner.”
+
+La Ramee uttered a cry of horror and rushed toward the gibbet, which he broke at once and threw the pieces out of the window. He was going to throw the crawfish out also, when Grimaud snatched it from his hands.
+
+“Good to eat!” he said, and put it in his pocket.
+
+This scene so enchanted the duke that at the moment he forgave Grimaud for his part in it; but on reflection he hated him more and more, being convinced he had some evil motive for his conduct.
+
+But the story of the crab made a great noise through the interior of the donjon and even outside. Monsieur de Chavigny, who at heart detested the cardinal, took pains to tell the story to two or three friends, who put it into immediate circulation.
+
+The prisoner happened to remark among the guards one man with a very good countenance; and he favored this man the more as Grimaud became the more and more odious to him. One morning he took this man on one side and had succeeded in speaking to him, when Grimaud entered and seeing what was going on approached the duke respectfully, but took the guard by the arm.
+
+“Go away,” he said.
+
+The guard obeyed.
+
+“You are insupportable!” cried the duke; “I shall beat you.”
+
+Grimaud bowed.
+
+“I will break every bone in your body!” cried the duke.
+
+Grimaud bowed, but stepped back.
+
+“Mr. Spy,” cried the duke, more and more enraged, “I will strangle you with my own hands.”
+
+And he extended his hands toward Grimaud, who merely thrust the guard out and shut the door behind him. At the same time he felt the duke’s arms on his shoulders like two iron claws; but instead either of calling out or defending himself, he placed his forefinger on his lips and said in a low tone:
+
+“Hush!” smiling as he uttered the word.
+
+A gesture, a smile and a word from Grimaud, all at once, were so unusual that his highness stopped short, astounded.
+
+Grimaud took advantage of that instant to draw from his vest a charming little note with an aristocratic seal, and presented it to the duke without a word.
+
+The duke, more and more bewildered, let Grimaud loose and took the note.
+
+“From Madame de Montbazon?” he cried.
+
+Grimaud nodded assent.
+
+The duke tore open the note, passed his hands over his eyes, for he was dazzled and confused, and read:
+
+“My Dear Duke, — You may entirely confide in the brave lad who will give you this note; he has consented to enter the service of your keeper and to shut himself up at Vincennes with you, in order to prepare and assist your escape, which we are contriving. The moment of your deliverance is at hand; have patience and courage and remember that in spite of time and absence all your friends continue to cherish for you the sentiments they have so long professed and truly entertained.
+
+“Yours wholly and most affectionately
+
+“Marie de Montbazon.
+
+“P.S. — I sign my full name, for I should be vain if I could suppose that after five years of absence you would remember my initials.”
+
+The poor duke became perfectly giddy. What for five years he had been wanting — a faithful servant, a friend, a helping hand — seemed to have fallen from Heaven just when he expected it the least.
+
+“Oh, dearest Marie! she thinks of me, then, after five years of separation! Heavens! there is constancy!” Then turning to Grimaud, he said:
+
+“And thou, my brave fellow, thou consentest thus to aid me?”
+
+Grimaud signified his assent.
+
+“And you have come here with that purpose?”
+
+Grimaud repeated the sign.
+
+“And I was ready to strangle you!” cried the duke.
+
+Grimaud smiled.
+
+“Wait, then,” said the duke, fumbling in his pocket. “Wait,” he continued, renewing his fruitless search; “it shall not be said that such devotion to a grandson of Henry IV. went without recompense.”
+
+The duke’s endeavors evinced the best intention in the world, but one of the precautions taken at Vincennes was that of allowing prisoners to keep no money. Whereupon Grimaud, observing the duke’s disappointment, drew from his pocket a purse filled with gold and handed it to him.
+
+“Here is what you are looking for,” he said.
+
+The duke opened the purse and wanted to empty it into Grimaud’s hands, but Grimaud shook his head.
+
+“Thank you, monseigneur,” he said, drawing back; “I am paid.”
+
+The duke went from one surprise to another. He held out his hand. Grimaud drew near and kissed it respectfully. The grand manner of Athos had left its mark on Grimaud.
+
+“What shall we do? and when? and how proceed?”
+
+“It is now eleven,” answered Grimaud. “Let my lord at two o’clock ask leave to make up a game at tennis with La Ramee and let him send two or three balls over the ramparts.”
+
+“And then?”
+
+“Your highness will approach the walls and call out to a man who works in the moat to send them back again.”
+
+“I understand,” said the duke.
+
+Grimaud made a sign that he was going away.
+
+“Ah!” cried the duke, “will you not accept any money from me?”
+
+“I wish my lord would make me one promise.”
+
+“What! speak!”
+
+“’Tis this: when we escape together, that I shall go everywhere and be always first; for if my lord should be overtaken and caught, there’s every chance of his being brought back to prison, whereas if I am caught the least that can befall me is to be — hung.”
+
+“True, on my honor as a gentleman it shall be as thou dost suggest.”
+
+“Now,” resumed Grimaud, “I’ve only one thing more to ask — that your highness will continue to detest me.”
+
+“I’ll try,” said the duke.
+
+At this moment La Ramee, after the interview we have described with the cardinal, entered the room. The duke had thrown himself, as he was wont to do in moments of dullness and vexation, on his bed. La Ramee cast an inquiring look around him and observing the same signs of antipathy between the prisoner and his guardian he smiled in token of his inward satisfaction. Then turning to Grimaud:
+
+“Very good, my friend, very good. You have been spoken of in a promising quarter and you will soon, I hope, have news that will be agreeable to you.”
+
+Grimaud saluted in his politest manner and withdrew, as was his custom on the entrance of his superior.
+
+“Well, my lord,” said La Ramee, with his rude laugh, “you still set yourself against this poor fellow?”
+
+“So! ’tis you, La Ramee; in faith, ’tis time you came back again. I threw myself on the bed and turned my nose to the wall, that I mightn’t break my promise and strangle Grimaud.”
+
+“I doubt, however,” said La Ramee, in sprightly allusion to the silence of his subordinate, “if he has said anything disagreeable to your highness.”
+
+“Pardieu! you are right — a mute from the East! I swear it was time for you to come back, La Ramee, and I was eager to see you again.”
+
+“Monseigneur is too good,” said La Ramee, flattered by the compliment.
+
+“Yes,” continued the duke, “really, I feel bored today beyond the power of description.”
+
+“Then let us have a match in the tennis court,” exclaimed La Ramee.
+
+“If you wish it.”
+
+“I am at your service, my lord.”
+
+“I protest, my dear La Ramee,” said the duke, “that you are a charming fellow and that I would stay forever at Vincennes to have the pleasure of your society.”
+
+“My lord,” replied La Ramee, “I think if it depended on the cardinal your wishes would be fulfilled.”
+
+“What do you mean? Have you seen him lately?”
+
+“He sent for me to-day.”
+
+“Really! to speak to you about me?”
+
+“Of what else do you imagine he would speak to me? Really, my lord, you are his nightmare.”
+
+The duke smiled with bitterness.
+
+“Ah, La Ramee! if you would but accept my offers! I would make your fortune.”
+
+“How? you would no sooner have left prison than your goods would be confiscated.”
+
+“I shall no sooner be out of prison than I shall be master of Paris.”
+
+“Pshaw! pshaw! I cannot hear such things said as that; this is a fine conversation with an officer of the king! I see, my lord, I shall be obliged to fetch a second Grimaud!”
+
+“Very well, let us say no more about it. So you and the cardinal have been talking about me? La Ramee, some day when he sends for you, you must let me put on your clothes; I will go in your stead; I will strangle him, and upon my honor, if that is made a condition I will return to prison.”
+
+“Monseigneur, I see well that I must call Grimaud.”
+
+“Well, I am wrong. And what did the cuistre [pettifogger] say about me?”
+
+“I admit the word, monseigneur, because it rhymes with ministre [minister]. What did he say to me? He told me to watch you.”
+
+“And why so? why watch me?” asked the duke uneasily.
+
+“Because an astrologer had predicted that you would escape.”
+
+“Ah! an astrologer predicted that?” said the duke, starting in spite of himself.
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu! yes! those imbeciles of magicians can only imagine things to torment honest people.”
+
+“And what did you reply to his most illustrious eminence?”
+
+“That if the astrologer in question made almanacs I would advise him not to buy one.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because before you could escape you would have to be turned into a bird.”
+
+“Unfortunately, that is true. Let us go and have a game at tennis, La Ramee.”
+
+“My lord — I beg your highness’s pardon — but I must beg for half an hour’s leave of absence.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because Monseigneur Mazarin is a prouder man than his highness, though not of such high birth: he forgot to ask me to breakfast.”
+
+“Well, shall I send for some breakfast here?”
+
+“No, my lord; I must tell you that the confectioner who lived opposite the castle — Daddy Marteau, as they called him — — ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, he sold his business a week ago to a confectioner from Paris, an invalid, ordered country air for his health.”
+
+“Well, what have I to do with that?”
+
+“Why, good Lord! this man, your highness, when he saw me stop before his shop, where he has a display of things which would make your mouth water, my lord, asked me to get him the custom of the prisoners in the donjon. ‘I bought,’ said he, ‘the business of my predecessor on the strength of his assurance that he supplied the castle; whereas, on my honor, Monsieur de Chavigny, though I’ve been here a week, has not ordered so much as a tartlet.’ ‘But,’ I then replied, ‘probably Monsieur de Chavigny is afraid your pastry is not good.’ ‘My pastry not good! Well, Monsieur La Ramee, you shall judge of it yourself and at once.’ ‘I cannot,’ I replied; ‘it is absolutely necessary for me to return to the chateau.’ ‘Very well,’ said he, ‘go and attend to your affairs, since you seem to be in a hurry, but come back in half an hour.’ ‘In half an hour?’ ‘Yes, have you breakfasted?’ ‘Faith, no.’ ‘Well, here is a pate that will be ready for you, with a bottle of old Burgundy.’ So, you see, my lord, since I am hungry, I would, with your highness’s leave — — ” And La Ramee bent low.
+
+“Go, then, animal,” said the duke; “but remember, I only allow you half an hour.”
+
+“May I promise your custom to the successor of Father Marteau, my lord?”
+
+“Yes, if he does not put mushrooms in his pies; thou knowest that mushrooms from the wood of Vincennes are fatal to my family.”
+
+La Ramee went out, but in five minutes one of the officers of the guard entered in compliance with the strict orders of the cardinal that the prisoner should never be left alone a moment.
+
+But during these five minutes the duke had had time to read again the note from Madame de Montbazon, which proved to the prisoner that his friends were concerting plans for his deliverance, but in what way he knew not.
+
+But his confidence in Grimaud, whose petty persecutions he now perceived were only a blind, increased, and he conceived the highest opinion of his intellect and resolved to trust entirely to his guidance.
+
+Chapter XIX. Pâtés made by the Successor of Father Marteau are described.
+
+In half an hour La Ramee returned, full of glee, like most men who have eaten, and more especially drank to their heart’s content. The pates were excellent, the wine delicious.
+
+The weather was fine and the game at tennis took place in the open air.
+
+At two o’clock the tennis balls began, according to Grimaud’s directions, to take the direction of the moat, much to the joy of La Ramee, who marked fifteen whenever the duke sent a ball into the moat; and very soon balls were wanting, so many had gone over. La Ramee then proposed to send some one to pick them up, but the duke remarked that it would be losing time; and going near the rampart himself and looking over, he saw a man working in one of the numerous little gardens cleared out by the peasants on the opposite side of the moat.
+
+“Hey, friend!” cried the duke.
+
+The man raised his head and the duke was about to utter a cry of surprise. The peasant, the gardener, was Rochefort, whom he believed to be in the Bastile.
+
+“Well? Who’s up there?” said the man.
+
+“Be so good as to collect and throw us back our balls,” said the duke.
+
+The gardener nodded and began to fling up the balls, which were picked up by La Ramee and the guard. One, however, fell at the duke’s feet, and seeing that it was intended for him, he put it into his pocket.
+
+La Ramee was in ecstasies at having beaten a prince of the blood.
+
+The duke went indoors and retired to bed, where he spent, indeed, the greater part of every day, as they had taken his books away. La Ramee carried off all his clothes, in order to be certain that the duke would not stir. However, the duke contrived to hide the ball under his bolster and as soon as the door was closed he tore off the cover of the ball with his teeth and found underneath the following letter:
+
+My Lord, — Your friends are watching over you and the hour of your deliverance is at hand. Ask day after to-morrow to have a pie supplied you by the new confectioner opposite the castle, and who is no other than Noirmont, your former maitre d’hotel. Do not open the pie till you are alone. I hope you will be satisfied with its contents.
+
+“Your highness’s most devoted servant,
+
+“In the Bastile, as elsewhere,
+
+“Comte de Rochefort.”
+
+The duke, who had latterly been allowed a fire, burned the letter, but kept the ball, and went to bed, hiding the ball under his bolster. La Ramee entered; he smiled kindly on the prisoner, for he was an excellent man and had taken a great liking for the captive prince. He endeavored to cheer him up in his solitude.
+
+“Ah, my friend!” cried the duke, “you are so good; if I could but do as you do, and eat pates and drink Burgundy at the house of Father Marteau’s successor.”
+
+“’Tis true, my lord,” answered La Ramee, “that his pates are famous and his wine magnificent.”
+
+“In any case,” said the duke, “his cellar and kitchen might easily excel those of Monsieur de Chavigny.”
+
+“Well, my lord,” said La Ramee, falling into the trap, “what is there to prevent your trying them? Besides, I have promised him your patronage.”
+
+“You are right,” said the duke. “If I am to remain here permanently, as Monsieur Mazarin has kindly given me to understand, I must provide myself with a diversion for my old age, I must turn gourmand.”
+
+“My lord,” said La Ramee, “if you will take a bit of good advice, don’t put that off till you are old.”
+
+“Good!” said the Duc de Beaufort to himself, “every man in order that he may lose his heart and soul, must receive from celestial bounty one of the seven capital sins, perhaps two; it seems that Master La Ramee’s is gluttony. Let us then take advantage of it.” Then, aloud:
+
+“Well, my dear La Ramee! the day after to-morrow is a holiday.”
+
+“Yes, my lord — Pentecost.”
+
+“Will you give me a lesson the day after to-morrow?”
+
+“In what?”
+
+“In gastronomy?”
+
+“Willingly, my lord.”
+
+“But tete-a-tete. Send the guards to take their meal in the canteen of Monsieur de Chavigny; we’ll have a supper here under your direction.”
+
+“Hum!” said La Ramee.
+
+The proposal was seductive, but La Ramee was an old stager, acquainted with all the traps a prisoner was likely to set. Monsieur de Beaufort had said that he had forty ways of getting out of prison. Did this proposed breakfast cover some stratagem? He reflected, but he remembered that he himself would have charge of the food and the wine and therefore that no powder could be mixed with the food, no drug with the wine. As to getting him drunk, the duke couldn’t hope to do that, and he laughed at the mere thought of it. Then an idea came to him which harmonized everything.
+
+The duke had followed with anxiety La Ramee’s unspoken soliloquy, reading it from point to point upon his face. But presently the exempt’s face suddenly brightened.
+
+“Well,” he asked, “that will do, will it not?”
+
+“Yes, my lord, on one condition.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“That Grimaud shall wait on us at table.”
+
+Nothing could be more agreeable to the duke, however, he had presence of mind enough to exclaim:
+
+“To the devil with your Grimaud! He will spoil the feast.”
+
+“I will direct him to stand behind your chair, and since he doesn’t speak, your highness will neither see nor hear him and with a little effort can imagine him a hundred miles away.”
+
+“Do you know, my friend, I find one thing very evident in all this, you distrust me.”
+
+“My lord, the day after to-morrow is Pentecost.”
+
+“Well, what is Pentecost to me? Are you afraid that the Holy Spirit will come as a tongue of fire to open the doors of my prison?”
+
+“No, my lord; but I have already told you what that damned magician predicted.”
+
+“And what was it?”
+
+“That the day of Pentecost would not pass without your highness being out of Vincennes.”
+
+“You believe in sorcerers, then, you fool?”
+
+“I — -I mind them no more than that — — ” and he snapped his fingers; “but it is my Lord Giulio who cares about them; as an Italian he is superstitious.”
+
+The duke shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Well, then,” with well acted good-humor, “I allow Grimaud, but no one else; you must manage it all. Order whatever you like for supper — the only thing I specify is one of those pies; and tell the confectioner that I will promise him my custom if he excels this time in his pies — not only now, but when I leave my prison.”
+
+“Then you think you will some day leave it?” said La Ramee.
+
+“The devil!” replied the prince; “surely, at the death of Mazarin. I am fifteen years younger than he is. At Vincennes, ’tis true, one lives faster — — ”
+
+“My lord,” replied La Ramee, “my lord — — ”
+
+“Or dies sooner, for it comes to the same thing.”
+
+La Ramee was going out. He stopped, however, at the door for an instant.
+
+“Whom does your highness wish me to send to you?”
+
+“Any one, except Grimaud.”
+
+“The officer of the guard, then, with his chessboard?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Five minutes afterward the officer entered and the duke seemed to be immersed in the sublime combinations of chess.
+
+A strange thing is the mind, and it is wonderful what revolutions may be wrought in it by a sign, a word, a hope. The duke had been five years in prison, and now to him, looking back upon them, those five years, which had passed so slowly, seemed not so long a time as were the two days, the forty-eight hours, which still parted him from the time fixed for his escape. Besides, there was one thing that engaged his most anxious thought — in what way was the escape to be effected? They had told him to hope for it, but had not told him what was to be hidden in the mysterious pate. And what friends awaited him without? He had friends, then, after five years in prison? If that were so he was indeed a highly favored prince. He forgot that besides his friends of his own sex, a woman, strange to say, had remembered him. It is true that she had not, perhaps, been scrupulously faithful to him, but she had remembered him; that was something.
+
+So the duke had more than enough to think about; accordingly he fared at chess as he had fared at tennis; he made blunder upon blunder and the officer with whom he played found him easy game.
+
+But his successive defeats did service to the duke in one way — they killed time for him till eight o’clock in the evening; then would come night, and with night, sleep. So, at least, the duke believed; but sleep is a capricious fairy, and it is precisely when one invokes her presence that she is most likely to keep him waiting. The duke waited until midnight, turning on his mattress like St. Laurence on his gridiron. Finally he slept.
+
+But at daybreak he awoke. Wild dreams had disturbed his repose. He dreamed that he was endowed with wings — he wished to fly away. For a time these wings supported him, but when he reached a certain height this new aid failed him. His wings were broken and he seemed to sink into a bottomless abyss, whence he awoke, bathed in perspiration and nearly as much overcome as if he had really fallen. He fell asleep again and another vision appeared. He was in a subterranean passage by which he was to leave Vincennes. Grimaud was walking before him with a lantern. By degrees the passage narrowed, yet the duke continued his course. At last it became so narrow that the fugitive tried in vain to proceed. The sides of the walls seem to close in, even to press against him. He made fruitless efforts to go on; it was impossible. Nevertheless, he still saw Grimaud with his lantern in front, advancing. He wished to call out to him but could not utter a word. Then at the other extremity he heard the footsteps of those who were pursuing him. These steps came on, came fast. He was discovered; all hope of flight was gone. Still the walls seemed to be closing on him; they appeared to be in concert with his enemies. At last he heard the voice of La Ramee. La Ramee took his hand and laughed aloud. He was captured again, and conducted to the low and vaulted chamber, in which Ornano, Puylaurens, and his uncle had died. Their three graves were there, rising above the ground, and a fourth was also there, yawning for its ghastly tenant.
+
+The duke was obliged to make as many efforts to awake as he had done to go to sleep; and La Ramee found him so pale and fatigued that he inquired whether he was ill.
+
+“In fact,” said one of the guards who had remained in the chamber and had been kept awake by a toothache, brought on by the dampness of the atmosphere, “my lord has had a very restless night and two or three times, while dreaming, he called for help.”
+
+“What is the matter with your highness?” asked La Ramee.
+
+“’Tis your fault, you simpleton,” answered the duke. “With your idle nonsense yesterday about escaping, you worried me so that I dreamed that I was trying to escape and broke my neck in doing so.”
+
+La Ramee laughed.
+
+“Come,” he said, “’tis a warning from Heaven. Never commit such an imprudence as to try to escape, except in your dreams.”
+
+“And you are right, my dear La Ramee,” said the duke, wiping away the sweat that stood on his brow, wide awake though he was; “after this I will think of nothing but eating and drinking.”
+
+“Hush!” said La Ramee; and one by one he sent away the guards, on various pretexts.
+
+“Well?” asked the duke when they were alone.
+
+“Well!” replied La Ramee, “your supper is ordered.”
+
+“Ah! and what is it to be? Monsieur, my majordomo, will there be a pie?”
+
+“I should think so, indeed — almost as high as a tower.”
+
+“You told him it was for me?”
+
+“Yes, and he said he would do his best to please your highness.”
+
+“Good!” exclaimed the duke, rubbing his hands.
+
+“Devil take it, my lord! what a gourmand you are growing; I haven’t seen you with so cheerful a face these five years.”
+
+The duke saw that he had not controlled himself as he ought, but at that moment, as if he had listened at the door and comprehended the urgent need of diverting La Ramee’s ideas, Grimaud entered and made a sign to La Ramee that he had something to say to him.
+
+La Ramee drew near to Grimaud, who spoke to him in a low voice.
+
+The duke meanwhile recovered his self-control.
+
+“I have already forbidden that man,” he said, “to come in here without my permission.”
+
+“You must pardon him, my lord,” said La Ramee, “for I directed him to come.”
+
+“And why did you so direct when you know that he displeases me?”
+
+“My lord will remember that it was agreed between us that he should wait upon us at that famous supper. My lord has forgotten the supper.”
+
+“No, but I have forgotten Monsieur Grimaud.”
+
+“My lord understands that there can be no supper unless he is allowed to be present.”
+
+“Go on, then; have it your own way.”
+
+“Come here, my lad,” said La Ramee, “and hear what I have to say.”
+
+Grimaud approached, with a very sullen expression on his face.
+
+La Ramee continued: “My lord has done me the honor to invite me to a supper to-morrow en tete-a-tete.”
+
+Grimaud made a sign which meant that he didn’t see what that had to do with him.
+
+“Yes, yes,” said La Ramee, “the matter concerns you, for you will have the honor to serve us; and besides, however good an appetite we may have and however great our thirst, there will be something left on the plates and in the bottles, and that something will be yours.”
+
+Grimaud bowed in thanks.
+
+“And now,” said La Ramee, “I must ask your highness’s pardon, but it seems that Monsieur de Chavigny is to be away for a few days and he has sent me word that he has certain directions to give me before his departure.”
+
+The duke tried to exchange a glance with Grimaud, but there was no glance in Grimaud’s eyes.
+
+“Go, then,” said the duke, “and return as soon as possible.”
+
+“Does your highness wish to take revenge for the game of tennis yesterday?”
+
+Grimaud intimated by a scarcely perceptible nod that he should consent.
+
+“Yes,” said the duke, “but take care, my dear La Ramee, for I propose to beat you badly.”
+
+La Ramee went out. Grimaud looked after him, and when the door was closed he drew out of his pocket a pencil and a sheet of paper.
+
+“Write, my lord,” he said.
+
+“And what?”
+
+Grimaud dictated.
+
+“All is ready for to-morrow evening. Keep watch from seven to nine. Have two riding horses ready. We shall descend by the first window in the gallery.”
+
+“What next?”
+
+“Sign your name, my lord.”
+
+The duke signed.
+
+“Now, my lord, give me, if you have not lost it, the ball — that which contained the letter.”
+
+The duke took it from under his pillow and gave it to Grimaud. Grimaud gave a grim smile.
+
+“Well?” asked the duke.
+
+“Well, my lord, I sew up the paper in the ball and you, in your game of tennis, will send the ball into the ditch.”
+
+“But will it not be lost?”
+
+“Oh no; there will be some one at hand to pick it up.”
+
+“A gardener?”
+
+Grimaud nodded.
+
+“The same as yesterday?”
+
+Another nod on the part of Grimaud.
+
+“The Count de Rochefort?”
+
+Grimaud nodded the third time.
+
+“Come, now,” said the duke, “give some particulars of the plan for our escape.”
+
+“That is forbidden me,” said Grimaud, “until the last moment.”
+
+“Who will be waiting for me beyond the ditch?”
+
+“I know nothing about it, my lord.”
+
+“But at least, if you don’t want to see me turn crazy, tell what that famous pate will contain.”
+
+“Two poniards, a knotted rope and a poire d’angoisse.” *
+
+* This poire d’angoisse was a famous gag, in the form of a pear, which, being thrust into the mouth, by the aid of a spring, dilated, so as to distend the jaws to their greatest width.
+
+“Yes, I understand.”
+
+“My lord observes that there will be enough to go around.”
+
+“We shall take to ourselves the poniards and the rope,” replied the duke.
+
+“And make La Ramee eat the pear,” answered Grimaud.
+
+“My dear Grimaud, thou speakest seldom, but when thou dost, one must do thee justice — thy words are words of gold.”
+
+Chapter XX. One of Marie Michon’s Adventures.
+
+Whilst these projects were being formed by the Duc de Beaufort and Grimaud, the Comte de la Fere and the Vicomte de Bragelonne were entering Paris by the Rue du Faubourg Saint Marcel.
+
+They stopped at the sign of the Fox, in the Rue du Vieux Colombier, a tavern known for many years by Athos, and asked for two bedrooms.
+
+“You must dress yourself, Raoul,” said Athos, “I am going to present you to some one.”
+
+“To-day, monsieur?” asked the young man.
+
+“In half an hour.”
+
+The young man bowed. Perhaps, not being endowed with the endurance of Athos, who seemed to be made of iron, he would have preferred a bath in the river Seine of which he had heard so much, and afterward his bed; but the Comte de la Fere had spoken and he had no thought but to obey.
+
+“By the way,” said Athos, “take some pains with your toilet, Raoul; I want you to be approved.”
+
+“I hope, sir,” replied the youth, smiling, “that there’s no idea of a marriage for me; you know of my engagement to Louise?”
+
+Athos, in his turn, smiled also.
+
+“No, don’t be alarmed, although it is to a lady that I am going to present you, and I am anxious that you should love her — — ”
+
+The young man looked at the count with a certain uneasiness, but at a smile from Athos he was quickly reassured.
+
+“How old is she?” inquired the Vicomte de Bragelonne.
+
+“My dear Raoul, learn, once for all, that that is a question which is never asked. When you can find out a woman’s age by her face, it is useless to ask it; when you cannot do so, it is indiscreet.”
+
+“Is she beautiful?”
+
+“Sixteen years ago she was deemed not only the prettiest, but the most graceful woman in France.”
+
+This reply reassured the vicomte. A woman who had been a reigning beauty a year before he was born could not be the subject of any scheme for him. He retired to his toilet. When he reappeared, Athos received him with the same paternal smile as that which he had often bestowed on D’Artagnan, but a more profound tenderness for Raoul was now visibly impressed upon his face.
+
+Athos cast a glance at his feet, hands and hair — those three marks of race. The youth’s dark hair was neatly parted and hung in curls, forming a sort of dark frame around his face; such was the fashion of the day. Gloves of gray kid, matching the hat, well displayed the form of a slender and elegant hand; whilst his boots, similar in color to the hat and gloves, confined feet small as those of a boy twelve years old.
+
+“Come,” murmured Athos, “if she is not proud of him, she must be hard to please.”
+
+It was three o’clock in the afternoon. The two travelers proceeded to the Rue Saint Dominique and stopped at the door of a magnificent hotel, surmounted with the arms of De Luynes.
+
+“’Tis here,” said Athos.
+
+He entered the hotel and ascended the front steps, and addressing a footman who waited there in a grand livery, asked if the Duchess de Chevreuse was visible and if she could receive the Comte de la Fere?
+
+The servant returned with a message to say, that, though the duchess had not the honor of knowing Monsieur de la Fere, she would receive him.
+
+Athos followed the footman, who led him through a long succession of apartments and paused at length before a closed door. Athos made a sign to the Vicomte de Bragelonne to remain where he was.
+
+The footman opened the door and announced Monsieur le Comte de la Fere.
+
+Madame de Chevreuse, whose name appears so often in our story “The Three Musketeers,” without her actually having appeared in any scene, was still a beautiful woman. Although about forty-four or forty-five years old, she might have passed for thirty-five. She still had her rich fair hair; her large, animated, intelligent eyes, so often opened by intrigue, so often closed by the blindness of love. She had still her nymph-like form, so that when her back was turned she still was not unlike the girl who had jumped, with Anne of Austria, over the moat of the Tuileries in 1563. In all other respects she was the same mad creature who threw over her amours such an air of originality as to make them proverbial for eccentricity in her family.
+
+She was in a little boudoir, hung with blue damask, adorned by red flowers, with a foliage of gold, looking upon a garden; and reclined upon a sofa, her head supported on the rich tapestry which covered it. She held a book in her hand and her arm was supported by a cushion.
+
+At the footman’s announcement she raised herself a little and peeped out, with some curiosity.
+
+Athos appeared.
+
+He was dressed in violet-tinted velvet, trimmed with silk of the same color. His shoulder-knots were of burnished silver, his mantle had no gold nor embroidery on it; a simple plume of violet feathers adorned his hat; his boots were of black leather, and at his girdle hung that sword with a magnificent hilt that Porthos had so often admired in the Rue Feron. Splendid lace adorned the falling collar of his shirt, and lace fell also over the top of his boots.
+
+In his whole person he bore such an impress of high degree, that Madame de Chevreuse half rose from her seat when she saw him and made him a sign to sit down near her.
+
+Athos bowed and obeyed. The footman was withdrawing, but Athos stopped him by a sign.
+
+“Madame,” he said to the duchess, “I have had the boldness to present myself at your hotel without being known to you; it has succeeded, since you deign to receive me. I have now the boldness to ask you for an interview of half an hour.”
+
+“I grant it, monsieur,” replied Madame de Chevreuse with her most gracious smile.
+
+“But that is not all, madame. Oh, I am very presuming, I am aware. The interview for which I ask is of us two alone, and I very earnestly wish that it may not be interrupted.”
+
+“I am not at home to any one,” said the Duchess de Chevreuse to the footman. “You may go.”
+
+The footman went out.
+
+There ensued a brief silence, during which these two persons, who at first sight recognized each other so clearly as of noble race, examined each other without embarrassment on either side.
+
+The duchess was the first to speak.
+
+“Well, sir, I am waiting with impatience to hear what you wish to say to me.”
+
+“And I, madame,” replied Athos, “am looking with admiration.”
+
+“Sir,” said Madame de Chevreuse, “you must excuse me, but I long to know to whom I am talking. You belong to the court, doubtless, yet I have never seen you at court. Have you, by any chance, been in the Bastile?”
+
+“No, madame, I have not; but very likely I am on the road to it.”
+
+“Ah! then tell me who you are, and get along with you upon your journey,” replied the duchess, with the gayety which made her so charming, “for I am sufficiently in bad odor already, without compromising myself still more.”
+
+“Who I am, madame? My name has been mentioned to you — the Comte de la Fere; you do not know that name. I once bore another, which you knew, but you have certainly forgotten it.”
+
+“Tell it me, sir.”
+
+“Formerly,” said the count, “I was Athos.”
+
+Madame de Chevreuse looked astonished. The name was not wholly forgotten, but mixed up and confused with ancient recollections.
+
+“Athos?” said she; “wait a moment.”
+
+And she placed her hands on her brow, as if to force the fugitive ideas it contained to concentration in a moment.
+
+“Shall I help you, madame?” asked Athos.
+
+“Yes, do,” said the duchess.
+
+“This Athos was connected with three young musketeers, named Porthos, D’Artagnan, and — — ”
+
+He stopped short.
+
+“And Aramis,” said the duchess, quickly.
+
+“And Aramis; I see you have not forgotten the name.”
+
+“No,” she said; “poor Aramis; a charming man, elegant, discreet, and a writer of poetical verses. I am afraid he has turned out ill,” she added.
+
+“He has; he is an abbé.”
+
+“Ah, what a misfortune!” exclaimed the duchess, playing carelessly with her fan. “Indeed, sir, I thank you; you have recalled one of the most agreeable recollections of my youth.”
+
+“Will you permit me, then, to recall another to you?”
+
+“Relating to him?”
+
+“Yes and no.”
+
+“Faith!” said Madame de Chevreuse, “say on. With a man like you I fear nothing.”
+
+Athos bowed. “Aramis,” he continued, “was intimate with a young needlewoman from Tours, a cousin of his, named Marie Michon.”
+
+“Ah, I knew her!” cried the duchess. “It was to her he wrote from the siege of Rochelle, to warn her of a plot against the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Exactly so; will you allow me to speak to you of her?”
+
+“If,” replied the duchess, with a meaning look, “you do not say too much against her.”
+
+“I should be ungrateful,” said Athos, “and I regard ingratitude, not as a fault or a crime, but as a vice, which is much worse.”
+
+“You ungrateful to Marie Michon, monsieur?” said Madame de Chevreuse, trying to read in Athos’s eyes. “But how can that be? You never knew her.”
+
+“Eh, madame, who knows?” said Athos. “There is a popular proverb to the effect that it is only mountains that never meet; and popular proverbs contain sometimes a wonderful amount of truth.”
+
+“Oh, go on, monsieur, go on!” said Madame de Chevreuse eagerly; “you can’t imagine how much this conversation interests me.”
+
+“You encourage me,” said Athos, “I will continue, then. That cousin of Aramis, that Marie Michon, that needlewoman, notwithstanding her low condition, had acquaintances in the highest rank; she called the grandest ladies of the court her friend, and the queen — proud as she is, in her double character as Austrian and as Spaniard — called her her sister.”
+
+“Alas!” said Madame de Chevreuse, with a slight sigh and a little movement of her eyebrows that was peculiarly her own, “since that time everything has changed.”
+
+“And the queen had reason for her affection, for Marie was devoted to her — devoted to that degree that she served her as medium of intercourse with her brother, the king of Spain.”
+
+“Which,” interrupted the duchess, “is now brought up against her as a great crime.”
+
+“And therefore,” continued Athos, “the cardinal — the true cardinal, the other one — determined one fine morning to arrest poor Marie Michon and send her to the Chateau de Loches. Fortunately the affair was not managed so secretly but that it became known to the queen. The case had been provided for: if Marie Michon should be threatened with any danger the queen was to send her a prayer-book bound in green velvet.”
+
+“That is true, monsieur, you are well informed.”
+
+“One morning the green book was brought to her by the Prince de Marsillac. There was no time to lose. Happily Marie and a follower of hers named Kitty could disguise themselves admirably in men’s clothes. The prince procured for Marie Michon the dress of a cavalier and for Kitty that of a lackey; he sent them two excellent horses, and the fugitives went out hastily from Tours, shaping their course toward Spain, trembling at the least noise, following unfrequented roads, and asking for hospitality when they found themselves where there was no inn.”
+
+“Why, really, it was all exactly as you say!” cried Madame de Chevreuse, clapping her hands. “It would indeed be strange if — — ” she checked herself.
+
+“If I should follow the two fugitives to the end of their journey?” said Athos. “No, madame, I will not thus waste your time. We will accompany them only to a little village in Limousin, lying between Tulle and Angouleme — a little village called Roche-l’Abeille.”
+
+Madame de Chevreuse uttered a cry of surprise, and looked at Athos with an expression of astonishment that made the old musketeer smile.
+
+“Wait, madame,” continued Athos, “what remains for me to tell you is even more strange than what I have narrated.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said Madame de Chevreuse, “I believe you are a sorcerer; I am prepared for anything. But really — No matter, go on.”
+
+“The journey of that day had been long and wearing; it was a cold day, the eleventh of October, there was no inn or chateau in the village and the homes of the peasants were poor and unattractive. Marie Michon was a very aristocratic person; like her sister the queen, she had been accustomed to pleasing perfumes and fine linen; she resolved, therefore, to seek hospitality of the priest.”
+
+Athos paused.
+
+“Oh, continue!” said the duchess. “I have told you that I am prepared for anything.”
+
+“The two travelers knocked at the door. It was late; the priest, who had gone to bed, cried out to them to come in. They entered, for the door was not locked — there is much confidence among villagers. A lamp burned in the chamber occupied by the priest. Marie Michon, who made the most charming cavalier in the world, pushed open the door, put her head in and asked for hospitality. ‘Willingly, my young cavalier,’ said the priest, ‘if you will be content with the remains of my supper and with half my chamber.’
+
+“The two travelers consulted for a moment. The priest heard a burst of laughter and then the master, or rather, the mistress, replied: ‘Thank you, monsieur le curé, I accept.’ ‘Sup, then, and make as little noise as possible,’ said the priest, ‘for I, too, have been on the go all day and shall not be sorry to sleep to-night.’”
+
+Madame de Chevreuse evidently went from surprise to astonishment, and from astonishment to stupefaction. Her face, as she looked at Athos, had taken on an expression that cannot be described. It could be seen that she had wished to speak, but she had remained silent through fear of losing one of her companion’s words.
+
+“What happened then?” she asked.
+
+“Then?” said Athos. “Ah, I have come now to what is most difficult.”
+
+“Speak, speak! One can say anything to me. Besides, it doesn’t concern me; it relates to Mademoiselle Marie Michon.”
+
+“Ah, that is true,” said Athos. “Well, then, Marie Michon had supper with her follower, and then, in accordance with the permission given her, she entered the chamber of her host, Kitty meanwhile taking possession of an armchair in the room first entered, where they had taken their supper.”
+
+“Really, monsieur,” said Madame de Chevreuse, “unless you are the devil in person I don’t know how you could become acquainted with all these details.”
+
+“A charming woman was that Marie Michon,” resumed Athos, “one of those wild creatures who are constantly conceiving the strangest ideas. Now, thinking that her host was a priest, that coquette took it into her head that it would be a happy souvenir for her old age, among the many happy souvenirs she already possessed, if she could win that of having damned an abbé.”
+
+“Count,” said the duchess, “upon my word, you frighten me.”
+
+“Alas!” continued Athos, “the poor abbé was not a St. Ambroise, and I repeat, Marie Michon was an adorable creature.”
+
+“Monsieur!” cried the duchess, seizing Athos’s hands, “tell me this moment how you know all these details, or I will send to the convent of the Vieux Augustins for a monk to come and exorcise you.”
+
+Athos laughed. “Nothing is easier, madame. A cavalier, charged with an important mission, had come an hour before your arrival, seeking hospitality, at the very moment that the curé, summoned to the bedside of a dying person, left not only his house but the village, for the entire night. The priest having all confidence in his guest, who, besides, was a nobleman, had left to him his house, his supper and his chamber. And therefore Marie came seeking hospitality from the guest of the good abbé and not from the good abbé himself.”
+
+“And that cavalier, that guest, that nobleman who arrived before she came?”
+
+“It was I, the Comte de la Fere,” said Athos, rising and bowing respectfully to the Duchess de Chevreuse.
+
+The duchess remained a moment stupefied; then, suddenly bursting into laughter:
+
+“Ah! upon my word,” said she, “it is very droll, and that mad Marie Michon fared better than she expected. Sit down, dear count, and go on with your story.”
+
+“At this point I have to accuse myself of a fault, madame. I have told you that I was traveling on an important mission. At daybreak I left the chamber without noise, leaving my charming companion asleep. In the front room the follower was also still asleep, her head leaning back on the chair, in all respects worthy of her mistress. Her pretty face arrested my attention; I approached and recognized that little Kitty whom our friend Aramis had placed with her. In that way I discovered that the charming traveler was — — ”
+
+“Marie Michon!” said Madame de Chevreuse, hastily.
+
+“Marie Michon,” continued Athos. “Then I went out of the house; I proceeded to the stable and found my horse saddled and my lackey ready. We set forth on our journey.”
+
+“And have you never revisited that village?” eagerly asked Madame de Chevreuse.
+
+“A year after, madame.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“I wanted to see the good curé again. I found him much preoccupied with an event that he could not at all comprehend. A week before he had received, in a cradle, a beautiful little boy three months old, with a purse filled with gold and a note containing these simple words: ‘11 October, 1633.’”
+
+“It was the date of that strange adventure,” interrupted Madame de Chevreuse.
+
+“Yes, but he couldn’t understand what it meant, for he had spent that night with a dying person and Marie Michon had left his house before his return.”
+
+“You must know, monsieur, that Marie Michon, when she returned to France in 1643, immediately sought for information about that child; as a fugitive she could not take care of it, but on her return she wished to have it near her.”
+
+“And what said the abbé?” asked Athos.
+
+“That a nobleman whom he did not know had wished to take charge of it, had answered for its future, and had taken it away.”
+
+“That was true.”
+
+“Ah! I see! That nobleman was you; it was his father!”
+
+“Hush! do not speak so loud, madame; he is there.”
+
+“He is there! my son! the son of Marie Michon! But I must see him instantly.”
+
+“Take care, madame,” said Athos, “for he knows neither his father nor his mother.”
+
+“You have kept the secret! you have brought him to see me, thinking to make me happy. Oh, thanks! sir, thanks!” cried Madame de Chevreuse, seizing his hand and trying to put it to her lips; “you have a noble heart.”
+
+“I bring him to you, madame,” said Athos, withdrawing his hand, “hoping that in your turn you will do something for him; till now I have watched over his education and I have made him, I hope, an accomplished gentleman; but I am now obliged to return to the dangerous and wandering life of party faction. To-morrow I plunge into an adventurous affair in which I may be killed. Then it will devolve on you to push him on in that world where he is called on to occupy a place.”
+
+“Rest assured,” cried the duchess, “I shall do what I can. I have but little influence now, but all that I have shall most assuredly be his. As to his title and fortune — — ”
+
+“As to that, madame, I have made over to him the estate of Bragelonne, my inheritance, which will give him ten thousand francs a year and the title of vicomte.”
+
+“Upon my soul, monsieur,” said the duchess, “you are a true nobleman! But I am eager to see our young vicomte. Where is he?”
+
+“There, in the salon. I will have him come in, if you really wish it.”
+
+Athos moved toward the door; the duchess held him back.
+
+“Is he handsome?” she asked.
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“He resembles his mother.”
+
+So he opened the door and beckoned the young man in.
+
+The duchess could not restrain a cry of joy on seeing so handsome a young cavalier, so far surpassing all that her maternal pride had been able to conceive.
+
+“Vicomte, come here,” said Athos; “the duchess permits you to kiss her hand.”
+
+The youth approached with his charming smile and his head bare, and kneeling down, kissed the hand of the Duchess de Chevreuse.
+
+“Sir,” he said, turning to Athos, “was it not in compassion to my timidity that you told me that this lady was the Duchess de Chevreuse, and is she not the queen?”
+
+“No, vicomte,” said Madame de Chevreuse, taking his hand and making him sit near her, while she looked at him with eyes sparkling with pleasure; “no, unhappily, I am not the queen. If I were I should do for you at once the most that you deserve. But let us see; whatever I may be,” she added, hardly restraining herself from kissing that pure brow, “let us see what profession you wish to follow.”
+
+Athos, standing, looked at them both with indescribable pleasure.
+
+“Madame,” answered the youth in his sweet voice, “it seems to me that there is only one career for a gentleman — that of the army. I have been brought up by monsieur le comte with the intention, I believe, of making me a soldier; and he gave me reason to hope that at Paris he would present me to some one who would recommend me to the favor of the prince.”
+
+“Yes, I understand it well. Personally, I am on bad terms with him, on account of the quarrels between Madame de Montbazon, my mother-in-law, and Madame de Longueville. But the Prince de Marsillac! Yes, indeed, that’s the right thing. The Prince de Marsillac — my old friend — will recommend our young friend to Madame de Longueville, who will give him a letter to her brother, the prince, who loves her too tenderly not to do what she wishes immediately.”
+
+“Well, that will do charmingly,” said the count; “but may I beg that the greatest haste may be made, for I have reasons for wishing the vicomte not to sleep longer than to-morrow night in Paris!”
+
+“Do you wish it known that you are interested about him, monsieur le comte?”
+
+“Better for him in future that he should be supposed never to have seen me.”
+
+“Oh, sir!” cried Raoul.
+
+“You know, Bragelonne,” said Athos, “I never speak without reflection.”
+
+“Well, comte, I am going instantly,” interrupted the duchess, “to send for the Prince de Marsillac, who is happily, in Paris just now. What are you going to do this evening?”
+
+“We intend to visit the Abbé Scarron, for whom I have a letter of introduction and at whose house I expect to meet some of my friends.”
+
+“’Tis well; I will go there also, for a few minutes,” said the duchess; “do not quit his salon until you have seen me.”
+
+Athos bowed and prepared to leave.
+
+“Well, monsieur le comte,” said the duchess, smiling, “does one leave so solemnly his old friends?”
+
+“Ah,” murmured Athos, kissing her hand, “had I only sooner known that Marie Michon was so charming a creature!” And he withdrew, sighing.
+
+Chapter XXI. The Abbé Scarron.
+
+There was once in the Rue des Tournelles a house known by all the sedan chairmen and footmen of Paris, and yet, nevertheless, this house was neither that of a great lord nor of a rich man. There was neither dining, nor playing at cards, nor dancing in that house. Nevertheless, it was the rendezvous of the great world and all Paris went there. It was the abode of the little Abbé Scarron.
+
+In the home of the witty abbé dwelt incessant laughter; there all the items of the day had their source and were so quickly transformed, misrepresented, metamorphosed, some into epigrams, some into falsehoods, that every one was anxious to pass an hour with little Scarron, listening to what he said, reporting it to others.
+
+The diminutive Abbé Scarron, who, however, was an abbé only because he owned an abbey, and not because he was in orders, had formerly been one of the gayest prebendaries in the town of Mans, which he inhabited. On a day of the carnival he had taken a notion to provide an unusual entertainment for that good town, of which he was the life and soul. He had made his valet cover him with honey; then, opening a feather bed, he had rolled in it and had thus become the most grotesque fowl it is possible to imagine. He then began to visit his friends of both sexes, in that strange costume. At first he had been followed through astonishment, then with derisive shouts, then the porters had insulted him, then children had thrown stones at him, and finally he was obliged to run, to escape the missiles. As soon as he took to flight every one pursued him, until, pressed on all sides, Scarron found no way of escaping his escort, except by throwing himself into the river; but the water was icy cold. Scarron was heated, the cold seized on him, and when he reached the farther bank he found himself crippled.
+
+Every means had been employed in vain to restore the use of his limbs. He had been subjected to a severe disciplinary course of medicine, at length he sent away all his doctors, declaring that he preferred the disease to the treatment, and came to Paris, where the fame of his wit had preceded him. There he had a chair made on his own plan, and one day, visiting Anne of Austria in this chair, she asked him, charmed as she was with his wit, if he did not wish for a title.
+
+“Yes, your majesty, there is a title which I covet much,” replied Scarron.
+
+“And what is that?”
+
+“That of being your invalid,” answered Scarron.
+
+So he was called the queen’s invalid, with a pension of fifteen hundred francs.
+
+From that lucky moment Scarron led a happy life, spending both income and principal. One day, however, an emissary of the cardinal’s gave him to understand that he was wrong in receiving the coadjutor so often.
+
+“And why?” asked Scarron; “is he not a man of good birth?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Agreeable?”
+
+“Undeniably.”
+
+“Witty?”
+
+“He has, unfortunately, too much wit.”
+
+“Well, then, why do you wish me to give up seeing such a man?”
+
+“Because he is an enemy.”
+
+“Of whom?”
+
+“Of the cardinal.”
+
+“What?” answered Scarron, “I continue to receive Monsieur Gilles Despreaux, who thinks ill of me, and you wish me to give up seeing the coadjutor, because he thinks ill of another man. Impossible!”
+
+The conversation had rested there and Scarron, through sheer obstinacy, had seen Monsieur de Gondy only the more frequently.
+
+Now, the very morning of which we speak was that of his quarter-day payment, and Scarron, as usual, had sent his servant to get his money at the pension-office, but the man had returned and said that the government had no more money to give Monsieur Scarron.
+
+It was on Thursday, the abbé’s reception day; people went there in crowds. The cardinal’s refusal to pay the pension was known about the town in half an hour and he was abused with wit and vehemence.
+
+In the Rue Saint Honore Athos fell in with two gentlemen whom he did not know, on horseback like himself, followed by a lackey like himself, and going in the same direction that he was. One of them, hat in hand, said to him:
+
+“Would you believe it, monsieur? that contemptible Mazarin has stopped poor Scarron’s pension.”
+
+“That is unreasonable,” said Athos, saluting in his turn the two cavaliers. And they separated with courteous gestures.
+
+“It happens well that we are going there this evening,” said Athos to the vicomte; “we will pay our compliments to that poor man.”
+
+“What, then, is this Monsieur Scarron, who thus puts all Paris in commotion? Is he some minister out of office?”
+
+“Oh, no, not at all, vicomte,” Athos replied; “he is simply a gentleman of great genius who has fallen into disgrace with the cardinal through having written certain verses against him.”
+
+“Do gentlemen, then, make verses?” asked Raoul, naively, “I thought it was derogatory.”
+
+“So it is, my dear vicomte,” said Athos, laughing, “to make bad ones; but to make good ones increases fame — witness Monsieur de Rotrou. Nevertheless,” he continued, in the tone of one who gives wholesome advice, “I think it is better not to make them.”
+
+“Then,” said Raoul, “this Monsieur Scarron is a poet?”
+
+“Yes; you are warned, vicomte. Consider well what you do in that house. Talk only by gestures, or rather always listen.”
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” replied Raoul.
+
+“You will see me talking with one of my friends, the Abbé d’Herblay, of whom you have often heard me speak.”
+
+“I remember him, monsieur.”
+
+“Come near to us from time to time, as if to speak; but do not speak, and do not listen. That little stratagem may serve to keep off interlopers.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur; I will obey you at all points.”
+
+Athos made two visits in Paris; at seven o’clock he and Raoul directed their steps to the Rue des Tournelles; it was stopped by porters, horses and footmen. Athos forced his way through and entered, followed by the young man. The first person that struck him on his entrance was Aramis, planted near a great chair on castors, very large, covered with a canopy of tapestry, under which there moved, enveloped in a quilt of brocade, a little face, youngish, very merry, somewhat pallid, whilst its eyes never ceased to express a sentiment at once lively, intellectual, and amiable. This was the Abbé Scarron, always laughing, joking, complimenting — yet suffering — and toying nervously with a small switch.
+
+Around this kind of rolling tent pressed a crowd of gentlemen and ladies. The room was neatly, comfortably furnished. Large valances of silk, embroidered with flowers of gay colors, which were rather faded, fell from the wide windows; the fittings of the room were simple, but in excellent taste. Two well trained servingmen were in attendance on the company. On perceiving Athos, Aramis advanced toward him, took him by the hand and presented him to Scarron. Raoul remained silent, for he was not prepared for the dignity of the bel esprit.
+
+After some minutes the door opened and a footman announced Mademoiselle Paulet.
+
+Athos touched the shoulder of the vicomte.
+
+“Look at this lady, Raoul, she is an historic personage; it was to visit her King Henry IV. was going when he was assassinated.”
+
+Every one thronged around Mademoiselle Paulet, for she was always very much the fashion. She was a tall woman, with a slender figure and a forest of golden curls, such as Raphael was fond of and Titian has painted all his Magdalens with. This fawn-colored hair, or, perhaps the sort of ascendancy which she had over other women, gave her the name of “La Lionne.” Mademoiselle Paulet took her accustomed seat, but before sitting down, she cast, in all her queen-like grandeur, a look around the room, and her eyes rested on Raoul.
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“Mademoiselle Paulet has observed you, vicomte; go and bow to her; don’t try to appear anything but what you are, a true country youth; on no account speak to her of Henry IV.”
+
+“When shall we two walk together?” Athos then said to Aramis.
+
+“Presently — there are not a sufficient number of people here yet; we shall be remarked.”
+
+At this moment the door opened and in walked the coadjutor.
+
+At this name every one looked around, for his was already a very celebrated name. Athos did the same. He knew the Abbé de Gondy only by report.
+
+He saw a little dark man, ill made and awkward with his hands in everything — except drawing a sword and firing a pistol — with something haughty and contemptuous in his face.
+
+Scarron turned around toward him and came to meet him in his chair.
+
+“Well,” said the coadjutor, on seeing him, “you are in disgrace, then, abbé?”
+
+This was the orthodox phrase. It had been said that evening a hundred times — and Scarron was at his hundredth bon mot on the subject; he was very nearly at the end of his humoristic tether, but one despairing effort saved him.
+
+“Monsieur, the Cardinal Mazarin has been so kind as to think of me,” he said.
+
+“But how can you continue to receive us?” asked the coadjutor; “if your income is lessened I shall be obliged to make you a canon of Notre Dame.”
+
+“Oh, no!” cried Scarron, “I should compromise you too much.”
+
+“Perhaps you have resources of which we are ignorant?”
+
+“I shall borrow from the queen.”
+
+“But her majesty has no property,” interposed Aramis.
+
+At this moment the door opened and Madame de Chevreuse was announced. Every one arose. Scarron turned his chair toward the door, Raoul blushed, Athos made a sign to Aramis, who went and hid himself in the enclosure of a window.
+
+In the midst of all the compliments that awaited her on her entrance, the duchess seemed to be looking for some one; at last she found out Raoul and her eyes sparkled; she perceived Athos and became thoughtful; she saw Aramis in the seclusion of the window and gave a start of surprise behind her fan.
+
+“Apropos,” she said, as if to drive away thoughts that pursued her in spite of herself, “how is poor Voiture, do you know, Scarron?”
+
+“What, is Monsieur Voiture ill?” inquired a gentleman who had spoken to Athos in the Rue Saint Honore; “what is the matter with him?”
+
+“He was acting, but forgot to take the precaution to have a change of linen ready after the performance,” said the coadjutor, “so he took cold and is about to die.”
+
+“Is he then so ill, dear Voiture?” asked Aramis, half hidden by the window curtain.
+
+“Die!” cried Mademoiselle Paulet, bitterly, “he! Why, he is surrounded by sultanas, like a Turk. Madame de Saintot has hastened to him with broth; La Renaudot warms his sheets; the Marquise de Rambouillet sends him his tisanes.”
+
+“You don’t like him, my dear Parthenie,” said Scarron.
+
+“What an injustice, my dear invalid! I hate him so little that I should be delighted to order masses for the repose of his soul.”
+
+“You are not called ‘Lionne’ for nothing,” observed Madame de Chevreuse, “your teeth are terrible.”
+
+“You are unjust to a great poet, it seems to me,” Raoul ventured to say.
+
+“A great poet! come, one may easily see, vicomte, that you are lately from the provinces and have never so much as seen him. A great poet! he is scarcely five feet high.”
+
+“Bravo bravo!” cried a tall man with an enormous mustache and a long rapier, “bravo, fair Paulet, it is high time to put little Voiture in his right place. For my part, I always thought his poetry detestable, and I think I know something about poetry.”
+
+“Who is this officer,” inquired Raoul of Athos, “who is speaking?”
+
+“Monsieur de Scudery, the author of ‘Clelie,’ and of ‘Le Grand Cyrus,’ which were composed partly by him and partly by his sister, who is now talking to that pretty person yonder, near Monsieur Scarron.”
+
+Raoul turned and saw two faces just arrived. One was perfectly charming, delicate, pensive, shaded by beautiful dark hair, and eyes soft as velvet, like those lovely flowers, the heartsease, in which shine out the golden petals. The other, of mature age, seemed to have the former one under her charge, and was cold, dry and yellow — the true type of a duenna or a devotee.
+
+Raoul resolved not to quit the room without having spoken to the beautiful girl with the soft eyes, who by a strange fancy, although she bore no resemblance, reminded him of his poor little Louise, whom he had left in the Chateau de la Valliere and whom, in the midst of all the party, he had never for one moment quite forgotten. Meantime Aramis had drawn near to the coadjutor, who, smiling all the while, contrived to drop some words into his ear. Aramis, notwithstanding his self-control, could not refrain from a slight movement of surprise.
+
+“Laugh, then,” said Monsieur de Retz; “they are looking at us.” And leaving Aramis he went to talk with Madame de Chevreuse, who was in the midst of a large group.
+
+Aramis affected a laugh, to divert the attention of certain curious listeners, and perceiving that Athos had betaken himself to the embrasure of a window and remained there, he proceeded to join him, throwing out a few words carelessly as he moved through the room.
+
+As soon as the two friends met they began a conversation which was emphasized by frequent gesticulation.
+
+Raoul then approached them as Athos had directed him to do.
+
+“’Tis a rondeau by Monsieur Voiture that monsieur l’abbé is repeating to me.” said Athos in a loud voice, “and I confess I think it incomparable.”
+
+Raoul stayed only a few minutes near them and then mingled with the group round Madame de Chevreuse.
+
+“Well, then?” asked Athos, in a low tone.
+
+“It is to be to-morrow,” said Aramis hastily.
+
+“At what time?”
+
+“Six o’clock.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“At Saint Mande.”
+
+“Who told you?”
+
+“The Count de Rochefort.”
+
+Some one drew near.
+
+“And then philosophic ideas are wholly wanting in Voiture’s works, but I am of the same opinion as the coadjutor — he is a poet, a true poet.” Aramis spoke so as to be heard by everybody.
+
+“And I, too,” murmured the young lady with the velvet eyes. “I have the misfortune also to admire his poetry exceedingly.”
+
+“Monsieur Scarron, do me the honor,” said Raoul, blushing, “to tell me the name of that young lady whose opinion seems so different from that of others of the company.”
+
+“Ah! my young vicomte,” replied Scarron, “I suppose you wish to propose to her an alliance offensive and defensive.”
+
+Raoul blushed again.
+
+“You asked the name of that young lady. She is called the fair Indian.”
+
+“Excuse me, sir,” returned Raoul, blushing still more deeply, “I know no more than I did before. Alas! I am from the country.”
+
+“Which means that you know very little about the nonsense which here flows down our streets. So much the better, young man! so much the better! Don’t try to understand it — you will only lose your time.”
+
+“You forgive me, then, sir,” said Raoul, “and you will deign to tell me who is the person that you call the young Indian?”
+
+“Certainly; one of the most charming persons that lives — Mademoiselle Frances d’Aubigne.”
+
+“Does she belong to the family of the celebrated Agrippa, the friend of Henry IV.?”
+
+“His granddaughter. She comes from Martinique, so I call her the beautiful Indian.”
+
+Raoul looked surprised and his eyes met those of the young lady, who smiled.
+
+The company went on speaking of the poet Voiture.
+
+“Monsieur,” said Mademoiselle d’Aubigne to Scarron, as if she wished to join in the conversation he was engaged in with Raoul, “do you not admire Monsieur Voiture’s friends? Listen how they pull him to pieces even whilst they praise him; one takes away from him all claim to good sense, another robs him of his poetry, a third of his originality, another of his humor, another of his independence of character, a sixth — but, good heavens! what will they leave him? as Mademoiselle de Scudery remarks.”
+
+Scarron and Raoul laughed. The fair Indian, astonished at the sensation her observation produced, looked down and resumed her air of naivete.
+
+Athos, still within the inclosure of the window, watched this scene with a smile of disdain on his lips.
+
+“Tell the Comte de la Fere to come to me,” said Madame de Chevreuse, “I want to speak to him.”
+
+“And I,” said the coadjutor, “want it to be thought that I do not speak to him. I admire, I love him — for I know his former adventures — but I shall not speak to him until the day after to-morrow.”
+
+“And why day after to-morrow?” asked Madame de Chevreuse.
+
+“You will know that to-morrow evening,” said the coadjutor, smiling.
+
+“Really, my dear Gondy,” said the duchess, “you remind one of the Apocalypse. Monsieur d’Herblay,” she added, turning toward Aramis, “will you be my servant once more this evening?”
+
+“How can you doubt it?” replied Aramis; “this evening, to-morrow, always; command me.”
+
+“I will, then. Go and look for the Comte de la Fere; I wish to speak with him.”
+
+Aramis found Athos and brought him.
+
+“Monsieur le comte,” said the duchess, giving him a letter, “here is what I promised you; our young friend will be extremely well received.”
+
+“Madame, he is very happy in owing any obligation to you.”
+
+“You have no reason to envy him on that score, for I owe to you the pleasure of knowing him,” replied the witty woman, with a smile which recalled Marie Michon to Aramis and to Athos.
+
+As she uttered that bon mot, she arose and asked for her carriage. Mademoiselle Paulet had already gone; Mademoiselle de Scudery was going.
+
+“Vicomte,” said Athos to Raoul, “follow the duchess; beg her to do you the favor to take your arm in going downstairs, and thank her as you descend.”
+
+The fair Indian approached Scarron.
+
+“You are going already?” he said.
+
+“One of the last, as you see; if you hear anything of Monsieur Voiture, be so kind as to send me word to-morrow.”
+
+“Oh!” said Scarron, “he may die now.”
+
+“Why?” asked the young girl with the velvet eyes.
+
+“Certainly; his panegyric has been uttered.”
+
+They parted, laughing, she turning back to gaze at the poor paralytic man with interest, he looking after her with eyes of love.
+
+One by one the several groups broke up. Scarron seemed not to observe that certain of his guests had talked mysteriously, that letters had passed from hand to hand and that the assembly had seemed to have a secret purpose quite apart from the literary discussion carried on with so much ostentation. What was all that to Scarron? At his house rebellion could be planned with impunity, for, as we have said, since that morning he had ceased to be “the queen’s invalid.”
+
+As to Raoul, he had attended the duchess to her carriage, where, as she took her seat, she gave him her hand to kiss; then, by one of those wild caprices which made her so adorable and at the same time so dangerous, she had suddenly put her arm around his neck and kissed his forehead, saying:
+
+“Vicomte, may my good wishes and this kiss bring you good fortune!”
+
+Then she had pushed him away and directed the coachman to stop at the Hotel de Luynes. The carriage had started, Madame de Chevreuse had made a parting gesture to the young man, and Raoul had returned in a state of stupefaction.
+
+Athos surmised what had taken place and smiled. “Come, vicomte,” he said, “it is time for you to go to bed; you will start in the morning for the army of monsieur le prince. Sleep well your last night as citizen.”
+
+“I am to be a soldier then?” said the young man. “Oh, monsieur, I thank you with all my heart.”
+
+“Adieu, count,” said the Abbé d’Herblay; “I return to my convent.”
+
+“Adieu, abbé,” said the coadjutor, “I am to preach to-morrow and have twenty texts to examine this evening.”
+
+“Adieu, gentlemen,” said the count; “I am going to sleep twenty-four hours; I am just falling down with fatigue.”
+
+The three men saluted one another, whilst exchanging a last look.
+
+Scarron followed their movements with a glance from the corner of his eye.
+
+“Not one of them will do as he says,” he murmured, with his little monkey smile; “but they may do as they please, the brave gentlemen! Who knows if they will not manage to restore to me my pension? They can move their arms, they can, and that is much. Alas, I have only my tongue, but I will try to show that it is good for something. Ho, there, Champenois! here, it is eleven o’clock. Come and roll me to bed. Really, that Demoiselle d’Aubigne is very charming!”
+
+So the invalid disappeared soon afterward and went into his sleeping-room; and one by one the lights in the salon of the Rue des Tournelles were extinguished.
+
+Chapter XXII. Saint Denis.
+
+The day had begun to break when Athos arose and dressed himself. It was plain, by a paleness still greater than usual, and by those traces which loss of sleep leaves on the face, that he must have passed almost the whole of the night without sleeping. Contrary to the custom of a man so firm and decided, there was this morning in his personal appearance something tardy and irresolute.
+
+He was occupied with the preparations for Raoul’s departure and was seeking to gain time. In the first place he himself furbished a sword, which he drew from its perfumed leather sheath; he examined it to see if its hilt was well guarded and if the blade was firmly attached to the hilt. Then he placed at the bottom of the valise belonging to the young man a small bag of louis, called Olivain, the lackey who had followed him from Blois, and made him pack the valise under his own eyes, watchful to see that everything should be put in which might be useful to a young man entering on his first campaign.
+
+At length, after occupying about an hour in these preparations, he opened the door of the room in which the vicomte slept, and entered.
+
+The sun, already high, penetrated into the room through the window, the curtains of which Raoul had neglected to close on the previous evening. He was still sleeping, his head gracefully reposing on his arm.
+
+Athos approached and hung over the youth in an attitude full of tender melancholy; he looked long on this young man, whose smiling mouth and half closed eyes bespoke soft dreams and lightest slumber, as if his guardian angel watched over him with solicitude and affection. By degrees Athos gave himself up to the charms of his reverie in the proximity of youth, so pure, so fresh. His own youth seemed to reappear, bringing with it all those savoury remembrances, which are like perfumes more than thoughts. Between the past and the present was an ineffable abyss. But imagination has the wings of an angel of light and travels safely through or over the seas where we have been almost shipwrecked, the darkness in which our illusions are lost, the precipice whence our happiness has been hurled and swallowed up. He remembered that all the first part of his life had been embittered by a woman and he thought with alarm of the influence love might assume over so fine, and at the same time so vigorous an organization as that of Raoul.
+
+In recalling all he had been through, he foresaw all that Raoul might suffer; and the expression of the deep and tender compassion which throbbed in his heart was pictured in the moist eye with which he gazed on the young man.
+
+At this moment Raoul awoke, without a cloud on his face without weariness or lassitude; his eyes were fixed on those of Athos and perhaps he comprehended all that passed in the heart of the man who was awaiting his awakening as a lover awaits the awakening of his mistress, for his glance, in return, had all the tenderness of love.
+
+“You are there, sir?” he said, respectfully.
+
+“Yes, Raoul,” replied the count.
+
+“And you did not awaken me?”
+
+“I wished to leave you still to enjoy some moments of sleep, my child; you must be fatigued from yesterday.”
+
+“Oh, sir, how good you are!”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“How do you feel this morning?” he inquired.
+
+“Perfectly well; quite rested, sir.”
+
+“You are still growing,” Athos continued, with that charming and paternal interest felt by a grown man for a youth.
+
+“Oh, sir, I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Raoul, ashamed of so much attention; “in an instant I shall be dressed.”
+
+Athos then called Olivain.
+
+“Everything,” said Olivain to Athos, “has been done according to your directions; the horses are waiting.”
+
+“And I was asleep,” cried Raoul, “whilst you, sir, you had the kindness to attend to all these details. Truly, sir, you overwhelm me with benefits!”
+
+“Therefore you love me a little, I hope,” replied Athos, in a tone of emotion.
+
+“Oh, sir! God knows how much I love, revere you.”
+
+“See that you forget nothing,” said Athos, appearing to look about him, that he might hide his emotion.
+
+“No, indeed, sir,” answered Raoul.
+
+The servant then approached Athos and said, hesitatingly:
+
+“Monsieur le vicomte has no sword.”
+
+“’Tis well,” said Athos, “I will take care of that.”
+
+They went downstairs, Raoul looking every now and then at the count to see if the moment of farewell was at hand, but Athos was silent. When they reached the steps Raoul saw three horses.
+
+“Oh, sir! then you are going with me?”
+
+“I will accompany you a portion of the way,” said Athos.
+
+Joy shone in Raoul’s eyes and he leaped lightly to his saddle.
+
+Athos mounted more slowly, after speaking in a low voice to the lackey, who, instead of following them immediately, returned to their rooms. Raoul, delighted at the count’s companionship, perceived, or affected to perceive nothing of this byplay.
+
+They set out, passing over the Pont Neuf; they pursued their way along the quay then called L’Abreuvoir Pepin, and went along by the walls of the Grand Chatelet. They proceeded to the Rue Saint Denis.
+
+After passing through the Porte Saint Denis, Athos looked at Raoul’s way of riding and observed:
+
+“Take care, Raoul! I have already often told you of this; you must not forget it, for it is a great defect in a rider. See! your horse is tired already, he froths at the mouth, whilst mine looks as if he had only just left the stable. You hold the bit too tight and so make his mouth hard, so that you will not be able to make him manoeuvre quickly. The safety of a cavalier often depends on the prompt obedience of his horse. In a week, remember, you will no longer be performing your manoeuvres for practice, but on a field of battle.”
+
+Then suddenly, in order not to give too uncomfortable an importance to this observation:
+
+“See, Raoul!” he resumed; “what a fine plain for partridge shooting.”
+
+The young man stored in his mind the admonition whilst he admired the delicate tenderness with which it was bestowed.
+
+“I have remarked also another thing,” said Athos, “which is, that in firing off your pistol you hold your arm too far outstretched. This tension lessens the accuracy of the aim. So in twelve times you thrice missed the mark.”
+
+“Which you, sir, struck twelve times,” answered Raoul, smiling.
+
+“Because I bent my arm and rested my hand on my elbow — so; do you understand what I mean?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I have fired since in that manner and have been quite successful.”
+
+“What a cold wind!” resumed Athos; “a wintry blast. Apropos, if you fire — and you will do so, for you are recommended to a young general who is very fond of powder — remember that in single combat, which often takes place in the cavalry, never to fire the first shot. He who fires the first shot rarely hits his man, for he fires with the apprehension of being disarmed, before an armed foe; then, whilst he fires, make your horse rear; that manoeuvre has saved my life several times.”
+
+“I shall do so, if only in gratitude — — ”
+
+“Eh!” cried Athos, “are not those fellows poachers they have arrested yonder? They are. Then another important thing, Raoul: should you be wounded in a battle, and fall from your horse, if you have any strength left, disentangle yourself from the line that your regiment has formed; otherwise, it may be driven back and you will be trampled to death by the horses. At all events, should you be wounded, write to me that very instant, or get some one at once to write to me. We are judges of wounds, we old soldiers,” Athos added, smiling.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” answered the young man, much moved.
+
+They arrived that very moment at the gate of the town, guarded by two sentinels.
+
+“Here comes a young gentleman,” said one of them, “who seems as if he were going to join the army.”
+
+“How do you make that out?” inquired Athos.
+
+“By his manner, sir, and his age; he’s the second to-day.”
+
+“Has a young man, such as I am, gone through this morning, then?” asked Raoul.
+
+“Faith, yes, with a haughty presence, a fine equipage; such as the son of a noble house would have.”
+
+“He will be my companion on the journey, sir,” cried Raoul. “Alas! he cannot make me forget what I shall have lost!”
+
+Thus talking, they traversed the streets, full of people on account of the fete, and arrived opposite the old cathedral, where first mass was going on.
+
+“Let us alight; Raoul,” said Athos. “Olivain, take care of our horses and give me my sword.”
+
+The two gentlemen then went into the church. Athos gave Raoul some of the holy water. A love as tender as that of a lover for his mistress dwells, undoubtedly, in some paternal hearts toward a son.
+
+Athos said a word to one of the vergers, who bowed and proceeded toward the basement.
+
+“Come, Raoul,” he said, “let us follow this man.”
+
+The verger opened the iron grating that guarded the royal tombs and stood on the topmost step, whilst Athos and Raoul descended. The sepulchral depths of the descent were dimly lighted by a silver lamp on the lowest step; and just below this lamp there was laid, wrapped in a flowing mantle of violet velvet, worked with fleurs-de-lis of gold, a catafalque resting on trestles of oak. The young man, prepared for this scene by the state of his own feelings, which were mournful, and by the majesty of the cathedral which he had passed through, descended in a slow and solemn manner and stood with head uncovered before these mortal spoils of the last king, who was not to be placed by the side of his forefathers until his successor should take his place there; and who appeared to abide on that spot, that he might thus address human pride, so sure to be exalted by the glories of a throne: “Dust of the earth! Here I await thee!”
+
+There was profound silence.
+
+Then Athos raised his hand and pointing to the coffin:
+
+“This temporary sepulture is,” he said, “that of a man who was of feeble mind, yet one whose reign was full of great events; because over this king watched the spirit of another man, even as this lamp keeps vigil over this coffin and illumines it. He whose intellect was thus supreme, Raoul, was the actual sovereign; the other, nothing but a phantom to whom he lent a soul; and yet, so powerful is majesty amongst us, this man has not even the honor of a tomb at the feet of him in whose service his life was worn away. Remember, Raoul, this! If Richelieu made the king, by comparison, seem small, he made royalty great. The Palace of the Louvre contains two things — the king, who must die, and royalty, which never dies. The minister, so feared, so hated by his master, has descended into the tomb, drawing after him the king, whom he would not leave alone on earth, lest his work should be destroyed. So blind were his contemporaries that they regarded the cardinal’s death as a deliverance; and I, even I, opposed the designs of the great man who held the destinies of France within the hollow of his hand. Raoul, learn how to distinguish the king from royalty; the king is but a man; royalty is the gift of God. Whenever you hesitate as to whom you ought to serve, abandon the exterior, the material appearance for the invisible principle, for the invisible principle is everything. Raoul, I seem to read your future destiny as through a cloud. It will be happier, I think, than ours has been. Different in your fate from us, you will have a king without a minister, whom you may serve, love, respect. Should the king prove a tyrant, for power begets tyranny, serve, love, respect royalty, that Divine right, that celestial spark which makes this dust still powerful and holy, so that we — gentlemen, nevertheless, of rank and condition — are as nothing in comparison with the cold corpse there extended.”
+
+“I shall adore God, sir,” said Raoul, “respect royalty and ever serve the king. And if death be my lot, I hope to die for the king, for royalty and for God. Have I, sir, comprehended your instructions?”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“Yours is a noble nature.” he said; “here is your sword.”
+
+Raoul bent his knee to the ground.
+
+“It was worn by my father, a loyal gentleman. I have worn it in my turn and it has sometimes not been disgraced when the hilt was in my hand and the sheath at my side. Should your hand still be too weak to use this sword, Raoul, so much the better. You will have the more time to learn to draw it only when it ought to be used.”
+
+“Sir,” replied Raoul, putting the sword to his lips as he received it from the count, “I owe you everything and yet this sword is the most precious gift you have yet made me. I will wear it, I swear to you, as a grateful man should do.”
+
+“’Tis well; arise, vicomte, embrace me.”
+
+Raoul arose and threw himself with emotion into the count’s arms.
+
+“Adieu,” faltered the count, who felt his heart die away within him; “adieu, and think of me.”
+
+“Oh! for ever and ever!” cried the youth; “oh! I swear to you, sir, should any harm befall me, your name will be the last name that I shall utter, the remembrance of you my last thought.”
+
+Athos hastened upstairs to conceal his emotion, and regained with hurried steps the porch where Olivain was waiting with the horses.
+
+“Olivain,” said Athos, showing the servant Raoul’s shoulder-belt, “tighten the buckle of the sword, it falls too low. You will accompany monsieur le vicomte till Grimaud rejoins you. You know, Raoul, Grimaud is an old and zealous servant; he will follow you.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered Raoul.
+
+“Now to horse, that I may see you depart!”
+
+Raoul obeyed.
+
+“Adieu, Raoul,” said the count; “adieu, my dearest boy!”
+
+“Adieu, sir, adieu, my beloved protector.”
+
+Athos waved his hand — he dared not trust himself to speak: and Raoul went away, his head uncovered. Athos remained motionless, looking after him until he turned the corner of the street.
+
+Then the count threw the bridle of his horse into the hands of a peasant, remounted the steps, went into the cathedral, there to kneel down in the darkest corner and pray.
+
+Chapter XXIII. One of the Forty Methods of Escape of the Duc de Beaufort.
+
+Meanwhile time was passing on for the prisoner, as well as for those who were preparing his escape; only for him it passed more slowly. Unlike other men, who enter with ardor upon a perilous resolution and grow cold as the moment of execution approaches, the Duc de Beaufort, whose buoyant courage had become a proverb, seemed to push time before him and sought most eagerly to hasten the hour of action. In his escape alone, apart from his plans for the future, which, it must be admitted, were for the present sufficiently vague and uncertain, there was a beginning of vengeance which filled his heart. In the first place his escape would be a serious misfortune to Monsieur de Chavigny, whom he hated for the petty persecutions he owed to him. It would be a still worse affair for Mazarin, whom he execrated for the greater offences he had committed. It may be observed that there was a proper proportion in his sentiments toward the governor of the prison and the minister — toward the subordinate and the master.
+
+Then Monsieur de Beaufort, who was so familiar with the interior of the Palais Royal, though he did not know the relations existing between the queen and the cardinal, pictured to himself, in his prison, all that dramatic excitement which would ensue when the rumor should run from the minister’s cabinet to the chamber of Anne of Austria: “Monsieur de Beaufort has escaped!” Whilst saying that to himself, Monsieur de Beaufort smiled pleasantly and imagined himself already outside, breathing the air of the plains and the forests, pressing a strong horse between his knees and crying out in a loud voice, “I am free!”
+
+It is true that on coming to himself he found that he was still within four walls; he saw La Ramee twirling his thumbs ten feet from him, and his guards laughing and drinking in the ante-chamber. The only thing that was pleasant to him in that odious tableau — such is the instability of the human mind — was the sullen face of Grimaud, for whom he had at first conceived such a hatred and who now was all his hope. Grimaud seemed to him an Antinous. It is needless to say that this transformation was visible only to the prisoner’s feverish imagination. Grimaud was still the same, and therefore he retained the entire confidence of his superior, La Ramee, who now relied upon him more than he did upon himself, for, as we have said, La Ramee felt at the bottom of his heart a certain weakness for Monsieur de Beaufort.
+
+And so the good La Ramee made a festivity of the little supper with his prisoner. He had but one fault — he was a gourmand; he had found the pates good, the wine excellent. Now the successor of Pere Marteau had promised him a pate of pheasant instead of a pate of fowl, and Chambertin wine instead of Macon. All this, set off by the presence of that excellent prince, who was so good-natured, who invented so droll tricks against Monsieur de Chavigny and so fine jokes against Mazarin, made for La Ramee the approaching Pentecost one of the four great feasts of the year. He therefore looked forward to six o’clock with as much impatience as the duke himself.
+
+Since daybreak La Ramee had been occupied with the preparations, and trusting no one but himself, he had visited personally the successor of Pere Marteau. The latter had surpassed himself; he showed La Ramee a monstrous pate, ornamented with Monsieur de Beaufort’s coat-of-arms. It was empty as yet, but a pheasant and two partridges were lying near it. La Ramee’s mouth watered and he returned to the duke’s chamber rubbing his hands. To crown his happiness, Monsieur de Chavigny had started on a journey that morning and in his absence La Ramee was deputy-governor of the chateau.
+
+As for Grimaud, he seemed more sullen than ever.
+
+In the course of the forenoon Monsieur de Beaufort had a game of tennis with La Ramee; a sign from Grimaud put him on the alert. Grimaud, going in advance, followed the course which they were to take in the evening. The game was played in an inclosure called the little court of the chateau, a place quite deserted except when Monsieur de Beaufort was playing; and even then the precaution seemed superfluous, the wall was so high.
+
+There were three gates to open before reaching the inclosure, each by a different key. When they arrived Grimaud went carelessly and sat down by a loophole in the wall, letting his legs dangle outside. It was evident that there the rope ladder was to be attached.
+
+This manoeuvre, transparent to the Duc de Beaufort, was quite unintelligible to La Ramee.
+
+The game at tennis, which, upon a sign from Grimaud, Monsieur de Beaufort had consented to play, began in the afternoon. The duke was in full strength and beat La Ramee completely.
+
+Four of the guards, who were constantly near the prisoner, assisted in picking up the tennis balls. When the game was over, the duke, laughing at La Ramee for his bad play, offered these men two louis d’or to go and drink his health, with their four other comrades.
+
+The guards asked permission of La Ramee, who gave it to them, but not till the evening, however; until then he had business and the prisoner was not to be left alone.
+
+Six o’clock came and, although they were not to sit down to table until seven o’clock, dinner was ready and served up. Upon a sideboard appeared the colossal pie with the duke’s arms on it, and seemingly cooked to a turn, as far as one could judge by the golden color which illuminated the crust.
+
+The rest of the dinner was to come.
+
+Every one was impatient, La Ramee to sit down to table, the guards to go and drink, the duke to escape.
+
+Grimaud alone was calm as ever. One might have fancied that Athos had educated him with the express forethought of such a great event.
+
+There were moments when, looking at Grimaud, the duke asked himself if he was not dreaming and if that marble figure was really at his service and would grow animated when the moment came for action.
+
+La Ramee sent away the guards, desiring them to drink to the duke’s health, and as soon as they were gone shut all the doors, put the keys in his pocket and showed the table to the prince with an air that signified:
+
+“Whenever my lord pleases.”
+
+The prince looked at Grimaud, Grimaud looked at the clock; it was hardly a quarter-past six. The escape was fixed to take place at seven o’clock; there was therefore three-quarters of an hour to wait.
+
+The duke, in order to pass away another quarter of an hour, pretended to be reading something that interested him and muttered that he wished they would allow him to finish his chapter. La Ramee went up to him and looked over his shoulder to see what sort of a book it was that had so singular an influence over the prisoner as to make him put off taking his dinner.
+
+It was “Caesar’s Commentaries,” which La Ramee had lent him, contrary to the orders of the governor; and La Ramee resolved never again to disobey these injunctions.
+
+Meantime he uncorked the bottles and went to smell if the pie was good.
+
+At half-past six the duke arose and said very gravely:
+
+“Certainly, Caesar was the greatest man of ancient times.”
+
+“You think so, my lord?” answered La Ramee.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, as for me, I prefer Hannibal.”
+
+“And why, pray, Master La Ramee?” asked the duke.
+
+“Because he left no Commentaries,” replied La Ramee, with his coarse laugh.
+
+The duke vouchsafed no reply, but sitting down at the table made a sign that La Ramee should seat himself opposite. There is nothing so expressive as the face of an epicure who finds himself before a well spread table, so La Ramee, when receiving his plate of soup from Grimaud, presented a type of perfect bliss.
+
+The duke smiled.
+
+“Zounds!” he said; “I don’t suppose there is a more contented man at this moment in all the kingdom than yourself!”
+
+“You are right, my lord duke,” answered the officer; “I don’t know any pleasanter sight on earth than a well covered table; and when, added to that, he who does the honors is the grandson of Henry IV., you will, my lord duke, easily comprehend that the honor fairly doubles the pleasure one enjoys.”
+
+The duke, in his turn, bowed, and an imperceptible smile appeared on the face of Grimaud, who kept behind La Ramee.
+
+“My dear La Ramee,” said the duke, “you are the only man to turn such faultless compliments.”
+
+“No, my lord duke,” replied La Ramee, in the fullness of his heart; “I say what I think; there is no compliment in what I say to you — — ”
+
+“Then you are attached to me?” asked the duke.
+
+“To own the truth, I should be inconsolable if you were to leave Vincennes.”
+
+“A droll way of showing your affliction.” The duke meant to say “affection.”
+
+“But, my lord,” returned La Ramee, “what would you do if you got out? Every folly you committed would embroil you with the court and they would put you into the Bastile, instead of Vincennes. Now, Monsieur de Chavigny is not amiable, I allow, but Monsieur du Tremblay is considerably worse.”
+
+“Indeed!” exclaimed the duke, who from time to time looked at the clock, the fingers of which seemed to move with sickening slowness.
+
+“But what can you expect from the brother of a capuchin monk, brought up in the school of Cardinal Richelieu? Ah, my lord, it is a great happiness that the queen, who always wished you well, had a fancy to send you here, where there’s a promenade and a tennis court, good air, and a good table.”
+
+“In short,” answered the duke, “if I comprehend you aright, La Ramee, I am ungrateful for having ever thought of leaving this place?”
+
+“Oh! my lord duke, ’tis the height of ingratitude; but your highness has never seriously thought of it?”
+
+“Yes,” returned the duke, “I must confess I sometimes think of it.”
+
+“Still by one of your forty methods, your highness?”
+
+“Yes, yes, indeed.”
+
+“My lord,” said La Ramee, “now we are quite at our ease and enjoying ourselves, pray tell me one of those forty ways invented by your highness.”
+
+“Willingly,” answered the duke, “give me the pie!”
+
+“I am listening,” said La Ramee, leaning back in his armchair and raising his glass of Madeira to his lips, and winking his eye that he might see the sun through the rich liquid that he was about to taste.
+
+The duke glanced at the clock. In ten minutes it would strike seven.
+
+Grimaud placed the pie before the duke, who took a knife with a silver blade to raise the upper crust; but La Ramee, who was afraid of any harm happening to this fine work of art, passed his knife, which had an iron blade, to the duke.
+
+“Thank you, La Ramee,” said the prisoner.
+
+“Well, my lord! this famous invention of yours?”
+
+“Must I tell you,” replied the duke, “on what I most reckon and what I determine to try first?”
+
+“Yes, that’s the thing, my lord!” cried his custodian, gaily.
+
+“Well, I should hope, in the first instance, to have for keeper an honest fellow like you.”
+
+“And you have me, my lord. Well?”
+
+“Having, then, a keeper like La Ramee, I should try also to have introduced to him by some friend or other a man who would be devoted to me, who would assist me in my flight.”
+
+“Come, come,” said La Ramee, “that’s not a bad idea.”
+
+“Capital, isn’t it? for instance, the former servingman of some brave gentleman, an enemy himself to Mazarin, as every gentleman ought to be.”
+
+“Hush! don’t let us talk politics, my lord.”
+
+“Then my keeper would begin to trust this man and to depend upon him, and I should have news from those without the prison walls.”
+
+“Ah, yes! but how can the news be brought to you?”
+
+“Nothing easier; in a game of tennis, for example.”
+
+“In a game of tennis?” asked La Ramee, giving more serious attention to the duke’s words.
+
+“Yes; see, I send a ball into the moat; a man is there who picks it up; the ball contains a letter. Instead of returning the ball to me when I call for it from the top of the wall, he throws me another; that other ball contains a letter. Thus we have exchanged ideas and no one has seen us do it.”
+
+“The devil it does! The devil it does!” said La Ramee, scratching his head; “you are in the wrong to tell me that, my lord. I shall have to watch the men who pick up balls.”
+
+The duke smiled.
+
+“But,” resumed La Ramee, “that is only a way of corresponding.”
+
+“And that is a great deal, it seems to me.”
+
+“But not enough.”
+
+“Pardon me; for instance, I say to my friends, Be on a certain day, on a certain hour, at the other side of the moat with two horses.”
+
+“Well, what then?” La Ramee began to be uneasy; “unless the horses have wings to mount the ramparts and come and fetch you.”
+
+“That’s not needed. I have,” replied the duke, “a way of descending from the ramparts.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“A rope ladder.”
+
+“Yes, but,” answered La Ramee, trying to laugh, “a ladder of ropes can’t be sent around a ball, like a letter.”
+
+“No, but it may be sent in something else.”
+
+“In something else — in something else? In what?”
+
+“In a pate, for example.”
+
+“In a pate?” said La Ramee.
+
+“Yes. Let us suppose one thing,” replied the duke “let us suppose, for instance, that my maitre d’hotel, Noirmont, has purchased the shop of Pere Marteau — — ”
+
+“Well?” said La Ramee, shuddering.
+
+“Well, La Ramee, who is a gourmand, sees his pates, thinks them more attractive than those of Pere Marteau and proposes to me that I shall try them. I consent on condition that La Ramee tries them with me. That we may be more at our ease, La Ramee removes the guards, keeping only Grimaud to wait on us. Grimaud is the man whom a friend has sent to second me in everything. The moment for my escape is fixed — seven o’clock. Well, at a few minutes to seven — — ”
+
+“At a few minutes to seven?” cried La Ramee, cold sweat upon his brow.
+
+“At a few minutes to seven,” returned the duke (suiting the action to the words), “I raise the crust of the pie; I find in it two poniards, a ladder of rope, and a gag. I point one of the poniards at La Ramee’s breast and I say to him, ‘My friend, I am sorry for it, but if thou stirrest, if thou utterest one cry, thou art a dead man!’”
+
+The duke, in pronouncing these words, suited, as we have said, the action to the words. He was standing near the officer and he directed the point of the poniard in such a manner, close to La Ramee’s heart, that there could be no doubt in the mind of that individual as to his determination. Meanwhile, Grimaud, still mute as ever, drew from the pie the other poniard, the rope ladder and the gag.
+
+La Ramee followed all these objects with his eyes, his alarm every moment increasing.
+
+“Oh, my lord,” he cried, with an expression of stupefaction in his face; “you haven’t the heart to kill me!”
+
+“No; not if thou dost not oppose my flight.”
+
+“But, my lord, if I allow you to escape I am a ruined man.”
+
+“I will compensate thee for the loss of thy place.”
+
+“You are determined to leave the chateau?”
+
+“By Heaven and earth! This night I am determined to be free.”
+
+“And if I defend myself, or call, or cry out?”
+
+“I will kill thee, on the honor of a gentleman.”
+
+At this moment the clock struck.
+
+“Seven o’clock!” said Grimaud, who had not spoken a word.
+
+La Ramee made one movement, in order to satisfy his conscience. The duke frowned, the officer felt the point of the poniard, which, having penetrated through his clothes, was close to his heart.
+
+“Let us dispatch,” said the duke.
+
+“My lord, one last favor.”
+
+“What? speak, make haste.”
+
+“Bind my arms, my lord, fast.”
+
+“Why bind thee?”
+
+“That I may not be considered as your accomplice.”
+
+“Your hands?” asked Grimaud.
+
+“Not before me, behind me.”
+
+“But with what?” asked the duke.
+
+“With your belt, my lord!” replied La Ramee.
+
+The duke undid his belt and gave it to Grimaud, who tied La Ramee in such a way as to satisfy him.
+
+“Your feet, too,” said Grimaud.
+
+La Ramee stretched out his legs, Grimaud took a table-cloth, tore it into strips and tied La Ramee’s feet together.
+
+“Now, my lord,” said the poor man, “let me have the poire d’angoisse. I ask for it; without it I should be tried in a court of justice because I did not raise the alarm. Thrust it into my mouth, my lord, thrust it in.”
+
+Grimaud prepared to comply with this request, when the officer made a sign as if he had something to say.
+
+“Speak,” said the duke.
+
+“Now, my lord, do not forget, if any harm happens to me on your account, that I have a wife and four children.”
+
+“Rest assured; put the gag in, Grimaud.”
+
+In a second La Ramee was gagged and laid prostrate. Two or three chairs were thrown down as if there had been a struggle. Grimaud then took from the pocket of the officer all the keys it contained and first opened the door of the room in which they were, then shut it and double-locked it, and both he and the duke proceeded rapidly down the gallery which led to the little inclosure. At last they reached the tennis court. It was completely deserted. No sentinels, no one at any of the windows. The duke ran to the rampart and perceived on the other side of the ditch, three cavaliers with two riding horses. The duke exchanged a signal with them. It was indeed for him that they were there.
+
+Grimaud, meantime, undid the means of escape.
+
+This was not, however, a rope ladder, but a ball of silk cord, with a narrow board which was to pass between the legs, the ball to unwind itself by the weight of the person who sat astride upon the board.
+
+“Go!” said the duke.
+
+“First, my lord?” inquired Grimaud.
+
+“Certainly. If I am caught, I risk nothing but being taken back again to prison. If they catch thee, thou wilt be hung.”
+
+“True,” replied Grimaud.
+
+And instantly, Grimaud, sitting upon the board as if on horseback, commenced his perilous descent.
+
+The duke followed him with his eyes, with involuntary terror. He had gone down about three-quarters of the length of the wall when the cord broke. Grimaud fell — precipitated into the moat.
+
+The duke uttered a cry, but Grimaud did not give a single moan. He must have been dreadfully hurt, for he did not stir from the place where he fell.
+
+Immediately one of the men who were waiting slipped down into the moat, tied under Grimaud’s shoulders the end of a cord, and the remaining two, who held the other end, drew Grimaud to them.
+
+“Descend, my lord,” said the man in the moat. “There are only fifteen feet more from the top down here, and the grass is soft.”
+
+The duke had already begun to descend. His task was the more difficult, as there was no board to support him. He was obliged to let himself down by his hands and from a height of fifty feet. But as we have said he was active, strong, and full of presence of mind. In less than five minutes he arrived at the end of the cord. He was then only fifteen feet from the ground, as the gentlemen below had told him. He let go the rope and fell upon his feet, without receiving any injury.
+
+He instantly began to climb up the slope of the moat, on the top of which he met De Rochefort. The other two gentlemen were unknown to him. Grimaud, in a swoon, was tied securely to a horse.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the duke, “I will thank you later; now we have not a moment to lose. On, then! on! those who love me, follow me!”
+
+And he jumped on his horse and set off at full gallop, snuffing the fresh air in his triumph and shouting out, with an expression of face which it would be impossible to describe:
+
+“Free! free! free!”
+
+Chapter XXIV. The timely Arrival of D’Artagnan in Paris.
+
+At Blois, D’Artagnan received the money paid to him by Mazarin for any future service he might render the cardinal.
+
+From Blois to Paris was a journey of four days for ordinary travelers, but D’Artagnan arrived on the third day at the Barriere Saint Denis. In turning the corner of the Rue Montmartre, in order to reach the Rue Tiquetonne and the Hotel de la Chevrette, where he had appointed Porthos to meet him, he saw at one of the windows of the hotel, that friend himself dressed in a sky-blue waistcoat, embroidered with silver, and gaping, till he showed every one of his white teeth; whilst the people passing by admiringly gazed at this gentleman, so handsome and so rich, who seemed to weary of his riches and his greatness.
+
+D’Artagnan and Planchet had hardly turned the corner when Porthos recognized them.
+
+“Eh! D’Artagnan!” he cried. “Thank God you have come!”
+
+“Eh! good-day, dear friend!” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+Porthos came down at once to the threshold of the hotel.
+
+“Ah, my dear friend!” he cried, “what bad stabling for my horses here.”
+
+“Indeed!” said D’Artagnan; “I am most unhappy to hear it, on account of those fine animals.”
+
+“And I, also — I was also wretchedly off,” he answered, moving backward and forward as he spoke; “and had it not been for the hostess,” he added, with his air of vulgar self-complacency, “who is very agreeable and understands a joke, I should have got a lodging elsewhere.”
+
+The pretty Madeleine, who had approached during this colloquy, stepped back and turned pale as death on hearing Porthos’s words, for she thought the scene with the Swiss was about to be repeated. But to her great surprise D’Artagnan remained perfectly calm, and instead of being angry he laughed, and said to Porthos:
+
+“Yes, I understand, the air of La Rue Tiquetonne is not like that of Pierrefonds; but console yourself, I will soon conduct you to one much better.”
+
+“When will you do that?”
+
+“Immediately, I hope.”
+
+“Ah! so much the better!”
+
+To that exclamation of Porthos’s succeeded a groaning, low and profound, which seemed to come from behind a door. D’Artagnan, who had just dismounted, then saw, outlined against the wall, the enormous stomach of Mousqueton, whose down-drawn mouth emitted sounds of distress.
+
+“And you, too, my poor Monsieur Mouston, are out of place in this poor hotel, are you not?” asked D’Artagnan, in that rallying tone which may indicate either compassion or mockery.
+
+“He finds the cooking detestable,” replied Porthos.
+
+“Why, then, doesn’t he attend to it himself, as at Chantilly?”
+
+“Ah, monsieur, I have not here, as I had there, the ponds of monsieur le prince, where I could catch those beautiful carp, nor the forests of his highness to provide me with partridges. As for the cellar, I have searched every part and poor stuff I found.”
+
+“Monsieur Mouston,” said D’Artagnan, “I should indeed condole with you had I not at this moment something very pressing to attend to.”
+
+Then taking Porthos aside:
+
+“My dear Du Vallon,” he said, “here you are in full dress most fortunately, for I am going to take you to the cardinal’s.”
+
+“Gracious me! really!” exclaimed Porthos, opening his great wondering eyes.
+
+“Yes, my friend.”
+
+“A presentation? indeed!”
+
+“Does that alarm you?”
+
+“No, but it agitates me.”
+
+“Oh! don’t be distressed; you have to deal with a cardinal of another kind. This one will not oppress you by his dignity.”
+
+“’Tis the same thing — you understand me, D’Artagnan — a court.”
+
+“There’s no court now. Alas!”
+
+“The queen!”
+
+“I was going to say, there’s no longer a queen. The queen! Rest assured, we shall not see her.”
+
+“And you say that we are going from here to the Palais Royal?”
+
+“Immediately. Only, that there may be no delay, I shall borrow one of your horses.”
+
+“Certainly; all the four are at your service.”
+
+“Oh, I need only one of them for the time being.”
+
+“Shall we take our valets?”
+
+“Yes, you may as well take Mousqueton. As to Planchet, he has certain reasons for not going to court.”
+
+“And what are they?”
+
+“Oh, he doesn’t stand well with his eminence.”
+
+“Mouston,” said Porthos, “saddle Vulcan and Bayard.”
+
+“And for myself, monsieur, shall I saddle Rustaud?”
+
+“No, take a more stylish horse, Phoebus or Superbe; we are going with some ceremony.”
+
+“Ah,” said Mousqueton, breathing more freely, “you are only going, then, to make a visit?”
+
+“Oh! yes, of course, Mouston; nothing else. But to avoid risk, put the pistols in the holsters. You will find mine on my saddle, already loaded.”
+
+Mouston breathed a sigh; he couldn’t understand visits of ceremony made under arms.
+
+“Indeed,” said Porthos, looking complacently at his old lackey as he went away, “you are right, D’Artagnan; Mouston will do; Mouston has a very fine appearance.”
+
+D’Artagnan smiled.
+
+“But you, my friend — are you not going to change your dress?”
+
+“No, I shall go as I am. This traveling dress will serve to show the cardinal my haste to obey his commands.”
+
+They set out on Vulcan and Bayard, followed by Mousqueton on Phoebus, and arrived at the Palais Royal at about a quarter to seven. The streets were crowded, for it was the day of Pentecost, and the crowd looked in wonder at these two cavaliers; one as fresh as if he had come out of a bandbox, the other so covered with dust that he looked as if he had but just come off a field of battle.
+
+Mousqueton also attracted attention; and as the romance of Don Quixote was then the fashion, they said that he was Sancho, who, after having lost one master, had found two.
+
+On reaching the palace, D’Artagnan sent to his eminence the letter in which he had been ordered to return without delay. He was soon ordered to the presence of the cardinal.
+
+“Courage!” he whispered to Porthos, as they proceeded. “Do not be intimidated. Believe me, the eye of the eagle is closed forever. We have only the vulture to deal with. Hold yourself as bolt upright as on the day of the bastion of St. Gervais, and do not bow too low to this Italian; that might give him a poor idea of you.”
+
+“Good!” answered Porthos. “Good!”
+
+Mazarin was in his study, working at a list of pensions and benefices, of which he was trying to reduce the number. He saw D’Artagnan and Porthos enter with internal pleasure, yet showed no joy in his countenance.
+
+“Ah! you, is it? Monsieur le lieutenant, you have been very prompt. ’Tis well. Welcome to ye.”
+
+“Thanks, my lord. Here I am at your eminence’s service, as well as Monsieur du Vallon, one of my old friends, who used to conceal his nobility under the name of Porthos.”
+
+Porthos bowed to the cardinal.
+
+“A magnificent cavalier,” remarked Mazarin.
+
+Porthos turned his head to the right and to the left, and drew himself up with a movement full of dignity.
+
+“The best swordsman in the kingdom, my lord,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+Porthos bowed to his friend.
+
+Mazarin was as fond of fine soldiers as, in later times, Frederick of Prussia used to be. He admired the strong hands, the broad shoulders and the steady eye of Porthos. He seemed to see before him the salvation of his administration and of the kingdom, sculptured in flesh and bone. He remembered that the old association of musketeers was composed of four persons.
+
+“And your two other friends?” he asked.
+
+Porthos opened his mouth, thinking it a good opportunity to put in a word in his turn; D’Artagnan checked him by a glance from the corner of his eye.
+
+“They are prevented at this moment, but will join us later.”
+
+Mazarin coughed a little.
+
+“And this gentleman, being disengaged, takes to the service willingly?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, my lord, and from pure devotion to the cause, for Monsieur de Bracieux is rich.”
+
+“Rich!” said Mazarin, whom that single word always inspired with a great respect.
+
+“Fifty thousand francs a year,” said Porthos.
+
+These were the first words he had spoken.
+
+“From pure zeal?” resumed Mazarin, with his artful smile; “from pure zeal and devotion then?”
+
+“My lord has, perhaps, no faith in those words?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Have you, Monsieur le Gascon?” asked Mazarin, supporting his elbows on his desk and his chin on his hands.
+
+“I,” replied the Gascon, “I believe in devotion as a word at one’s baptism, for instance, which naturally comes before one’s proper name; every one is naturally more or less devout, certainly; but there should be at the end of one’s devotion something to gain.”
+
+“And your friend, for instance; what does he expect to have at the end of his devotion?”
+
+“Well, my lord, my friend has three magnificent estates: that of Vallon, at Corbeil; that of Bracieux, in the Soissonais; and that of Pierrefonds, in the Valois. Now, my lord, he would like to have one of his three estates erected into a barony.”
+
+“Only that?” said Mazarin, his eyes twinkling with joy on seeing that he could pay for Porthos’s devotion without opening his purse; “only that? That can be managed.”
+
+“I shall be baron!” explained Porthos, stepping forward.
+
+“I told you so,” said D’Artagnan, checking him with his hand; “and now his eminence confirms it.”
+
+“And you, Monsieur D’Artagnan, what do you want?”
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “it is twenty years since Cardinal de Richelieu made me lieutenant.”
+
+“Yes, and you would be gratified if Cardinal Mazarin should make you captain.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed.
+
+“Well, that is not impossible. We will see, gentlemen, we will see. Now, Monsieur de Vallon,” said Mazarin, “what service do you prefer, in the town or in the country?”
+
+Porthos opened his mouth to reply.
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “Monsieur de Vallon is like me, he prefers service extraordinary — that is to say, enterprises that are considered mad and impossible.”
+
+That boastfulness was not displeasing to Mazarin; he fell into meditation.
+
+“And yet,” he said, “I must admit that I sent for you to appoint you to quiet service; I have certain apprehensions — well, what is the meaning of that?”
+
+In fact, a great noise was heard in the ante-chamber; at the same time the door of the study was burst open and a man, covered with dust, rushed into it, exclaiming:
+
+“My lord the cardinal! my lord the cardinal!”
+
+Mazarin thought that some one was going to assassinate him and he drew back, pushing his chair on the castors. D’Artagnan and Porthos moved so as to plant themselves between the person entering and the cardinal.
+
+“Well, sir,” exclaimed Mazarin, “what’s the matter? and why do you rush in here, as if you were about to penetrate a crowded market-place?”
+
+“My lord,” replied the messenger, “I wish to speak to your eminence in secret. I am Monsieur du Poins, an officer in the guards, on duty at the donjon of Vincennes.”
+
+Mazarin, perceiving by the paleness and agitation of the messenger that he had something of importance to say, made a sign that D’Artagnan and Porthos should give place.
+
+D’Artagnan and Porthos withdrew to a corner of the cabinet.
+
+“Speak, monsieur, speak at once!” said Mazarin “What is the matter?”
+
+“The matter is, my lord, that the Duc de Beaufort has contrived to escape from the Chateau of Vincennes.”
+
+Mazarin uttered a cry and became paler than the man who had brought the news. He fell back, almost fainting, in his chair.
+
+“Escaped? Monsieur de Beaufort escaped?”
+
+“My lord, I saw him run off from the top of the terrace.”
+
+“And you did not fire on him?”
+
+“He was out of range.”
+
+“Monsieur de Chavigny — where was he?”
+
+“Absent.”
+
+“And La Ramee?”
+
+“Was found locked up in the prisoner’s room, a gag in his mouth and a poniard near him.”
+
+“But the man who was under him?”
+
+“Was an accomplice of the duke’s and escaped along with him.”
+
+Mazarin groaned.
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, advancing toward the cardinal, “it seems to me that your eminence is losing precious time. It may still be possible to overtake the prisoner. France is large; the nearest frontier is sixty leagues distant.”
+
+“And who is to pursue him?” cried Mazarin.
+
+“I, pardieu!”
+
+“And you would arrest him?”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“You would arrest the Duc de Beaufort, armed, in the field?”
+
+“If your eminence should order me to arrest the devil, I would seize him by the horns and would bring him in.”
+
+“So would I,” said Porthos.
+
+“So would you!” said Mazarin, looking with astonishment at those two men. “But the duke will not yield himself without a furious battle.”
+
+“Very well,” said D’Artagnan, his eyes aflame, “battle! It is a long time since we have had a battle, eh, Porthos?”
+
+“Battle!” cried Porthos.
+
+“And you think you can catch him?”
+
+“Yes, if we are better mounted than he.”
+
+“Go then, take what guards you find here, and pursue him.”
+
+“You command us, my lord, to do so?”
+
+“And I sign my orders,” said Mazarin, taking a piece of paper and writing some lines; “Monsieur du Vallon, your barony is on the back of the Duc de Beaufort’s horse; you have nothing to do but to overtake it. As for you, my dear lieutenant, I promise you nothing; but if you bring him back to me, dead or alive, you may ask all you wish.”
+
+“To horse, Porthos!” said D’Artagnan, taking his friend by the hand.
+
+“Here I am,” smiled Porthos, with his sublime composure.
+
+They descended the great staircase, taking with them all the guards they found on their road, and crying out, “To arms! To arms!” and immediately put spur to horse, which set off along the Rue Saint Honore with the speed of the whirlwind.
+
+“Well, baron, I promise you some good exercise!” said the Gascon.
+
+“Yes, my captain.”
+
+As they went, the citizens, awakened, left their doors and the street dogs followed the cavaliers, barking. At the corner of the Cimetiere Saint Jean, D’Artagnan upset a man; it was too insignificant an occurrence to delay people so eager to get on. The troop continued its course as though their steeds had wings.
+
+Alas! there are no unimportant events in this world and we shall see that this apparently slight incident came near endangering the monarchy.
+
+Chapter XXV. An Adventure on the High Road.
+
+The musketeers rode the whole length of the Faubourg Saint Antoine and of the road to Vincennes, and soon found themselves out of the town, then in a forest and then within sight of a village.
+
+The horses seemed to become more lively with each successive step; their nostrils reddened like glowing furnaces. D’Artagnan, freely applying his spurs, was in advance of Porthos two feet at the most; Mousqueton followed two lengths behind; the guards were scattered according to the varying excellence of their respective mounts.
+
+From the top of an eminence D’Artagnan perceived a group of people collected on the other side of the moat, in front of that part of the donjon which looks toward Saint Maur. He rode on, convinced that in this direction he would gain intelligence of the fugitive. In five minutes he had arrived at the place, where the guards joined him, coming up one by one.
+
+The several members of that group were much excited. They looked at the cord, still hanging from the loophole and broken at about twenty feet from the ground. Their eyes measured the height and they exchanged conjectures. On the top of the wall sentinels went and came with a frightened air.
+
+A few soldiers, commanded by a sergeant, drove away idlers from the place where the duke had mounted his horse. D’Artagnan went straight to the sergeant.
+
+“My officer,” said the sergeant, “it is not permitted to stop here.”
+
+“That prohibition is not for me,” said D’Artagnan. “Have the fugitives been pursued?”
+
+“Yes, my officer; unfortunately, they are well mounted.”
+
+“How many are there?”
+
+“Four, and a fifth whom they carried away wounded.”
+
+“Four!” said D’Artagnan, looking at Porthos. “Do you hear, baron? They are only four!”
+
+A joyous smile lighted Porthos’s face.
+
+“How long a start have they?”
+
+“Two hours and a quarter, my officer.”
+
+“Two hours and a quarter — that is nothing; we are well mounted, are we not, Porthos?”
+
+Porthos breathed a sigh; he thought of what was in store for his poor horses.
+
+“Very good,” said D’Artagnan; “and now in what direction did they set out?”
+
+“That I am forbidden to tell.”
+
+D’Artagnan drew from his pocket a paper. “Order of the king,” he said.
+
+“Speak to the governor, then.”
+
+“And where is the governor?”
+
+“In the country.”
+
+Anger mounted to D’Artagnan’s face; he frowned and his cheeks were colored.
+
+“Ah, you scoundrel!” he said to the sergeant, “I believe you are impudent to me! Wait!”
+
+He unfolded the paper, presented it to the sergeant with one hand and with the other took a pistol from his holsters and cocked it.
+
+“Order of the king, I tell you. Read and answer, or I will blow out your brains!”
+
+The sergeant saw that D’Artagnan was in earnest. “The Vendomois road,” he replied.
+
+“And by what gate did they go out?”
+
+“By the Saint Maur gate.”
+
+“If you are deceiving me, rascal, you will be hanged to-morrow.”
+
+“And if you catch up with them you won’t come back to hang me,” murmured the sergeant.
+
+D’Artagnan shrugged his shoulders, made a sign to his escort and started.
+
+“This way, gentlemen, this way!” he cried, directing his course toward the gate that had been pointed out.
+
+But, now that the duke had escaped, the concierge had seen fit to fasten the gate with a double lock. It was necessary to compel him to open it, as the sergeant had been compelled to speak, and this took another ten minutes. This last obstacle having been overcome, the troop pursued their course with their accustomed ardor; but some of the horses could no longer sustain this pace; three of them stopped after an hour’s gallop, and one fell down.
+
+D’Artagnan, who never turned his head, did not perceive it. Porthos told him of it in his calm manner.
+
+“If only we two arrive,” said D’Artagnan, “it will be enough, since the duke’s troop are only four in number.”
+
+“That is true,” said Porthos
+
+And he spurred his courser on.
+
+At the end of another two hours the horses had gone twelve leagues without stopping; their legs began to tremble, and the foam they shed whitened the doublets of their masters.
+
+“Let us rest here an instant to give these poor creatures breathing time,” said Porthos.
+
+“Let us rather kill them! yes, kill them!” cried D’Artagnan; “I see fresh tracks; ’tis not a quarter of an hour since they passed this place.”
+
+In fact, the road was trodden by horses’ feet, visible even in the approaching gloom of evening.
+
+They set out; after a run of two leagues, Mousqueton’s horse sank.
+
+“Gracious me!” said Porthos, “there’s Phoebus ruined.”
+
+“The cardinal will pay you a hundred pistoles.”
+
+“I’m above that.”
+
+“Let us set out again, at full gallop.”
+
+“Yes, if we can.”
+
+But at last the lieutenant’s horse refused to go on; he could not breathe; one last spur, instead of making him advance, made him fall.
+
+“The devil!” exclaimed Porthos; “there’s Vulcan foundered.”
+
+“Zounds!” cried D’Artagnan, “then we must stop! Give me your horse, Porthos. What the devil are you doing?”
+
+“By Jove, I am falling, or rather, Bayard is falling,” answered Porthos.
+
+All three then cried: “All’s over.”
+
+“Hush!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I hear a horse.”
+
+“It belongs to one of our companions, who is overtaking us.”
+
+“No,” said D’Artagnan, “it is in advance.”
+
+“That is another thing,” said Porthos; and he listened toward the quarter indicated by D’Artagnan.
+
+“Monsieur,” said Mousqueton, who, abandoning his horse on the high road, had come on foot to rejoin his master, “Phoebus could no longer hold out and — — ”
+
+“Silence!” said Porthos.
+
+In fact, at that moment a second neighing was borne to them on the night wind.
+
+“It is five hundred feet from here, in advance,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“True, monsieur,” said Mousqueton; “and five hundred feet from here is a small hunting-house.”
+
+“Mousqueton, thy pistols,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“I have them at hand, monsieur.”
+
+“Porthos, take yours from your holsters.”
+
+“I have them.”
+
+“Good!” said D’Artagnan, seizing his own; “now you understand, Porthos?”
+
+“Not too well.”
+
+“We are out on the king’s service.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“For the king’s service we need horses.”
+
+“That is true,” said Porthos.
+
+“Then not a word, but set to work!”
+
+They went on through the darkness, silent as phantoms; they saw a light glimmering in the midst of some trees.
+
+“Yonder is the house, Porthos,” said the Gascon; “let me do what I please and do you what I do.”
+
+They glided from tree to tree till they arrived at twenty steps from the house unperceived and saw by means of a lantern suspended under a hut, four fine horses. A groom was rubbing them down; near them were saddles and bridles.
+
+D’Artagnan approached quickly, making a sign to his two companions to remain a few steps behind.
+
+“I buy those horses,” he said to the groom.
+
+The groom turned toward him with a look of surprise, but made no reply.
+
+“Didn’t you hear, fellow?”
+
+“Yes, I heard.”
+
+“Why, then, didn’t you reply?”
+
+“Because these horses are not to be sold,” was the reply.
+
+“I take them, then,” said the lieutenant.
+
+And he took hold of one within his reach; his two companions did the same thing.
+
+“Sir,” cried the groom, “they have traversed six leagues and have only been unsaddled half an hour.”
+
+“Half an hour’s rest is enough,” replied the Gascon.
+
+The groom cried aloud for help. A kind of steward appeared, just as D’Artagnan and his companions were prepared to mount. The steward attempted to expostulate.
+
+“My dear friend,” cried the lieutenant, “if you say a word I will blow out your brains.”
+
+“But, sir,” answered the steward, “do you know that these horses belong to Monsieur de Montbazon?”
+
+“So much the better; they must be good animals, then.”
+
+“Sir, I shall call my people.”
+
+“And I, mine; I’ve ten guards behind me, don’t you hear them gallop? and I’m one of the king’s musketeers. Come, Porthos; come, Mousqueton.”
+
+They all mounted the horses as quickly as possible.
+
+“Halloo! hi! hi!” cried the steward; “the house servants, with the carbines!”
+
+“On! on!” cried D’Artagnan; “there’ll be firing! on!”
+
+They all set off, swift as the wind.
+
+“Here!” cried the steward, “here!” whilst the groom ran to a neighboring building.
+
+“Take care of your horses!” cried D’Artagnan to him.
+
+“Fire!” replied the steward.
+
+A gleam, like a flash of lightning, illumined the road, and with the flash was heard the whistling of balls, which were fired wildly in the air.
+
+“They fire like grooms,” said Porthos. “In the time of the cardinal people fired better than that, do you remember the road to Crevecoeur, Mousqueton?”
+
+“Ah, sir! my left side still pains me!”
+
+“Are you sure we are on the right track, lieutenant?”
+
+“Egad, didn’t you hear? these horses belong to Monsieur de Montbazon; well, Monsieur de Montbazon is the husband of Madame de Montbazon — — ”
+
+“And — — ”
+
+“And Madame de Montbazon is the mistress of the Duc de Beaufort.”
+
+“Ah! I understand,” replied Porthos; “she has ordered relays of horses.”
+
+“Exactly so.”
+
+“And we are pursuing the duke with the very horses he has just left?”
+
+“My dear Porthos, you are really a man of most superior understanding,” said D’Artagnan, with a look as if he spoke against his conviction.
+
+“Pooh!” replied Porthos, “I am what I am.”
+
+They rode on for an hour, till the horses were covered with foam and dust.
+
+“Zounds! what is yonder?” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“You are very lucky if you see anything such a night as this,” said Porthos.
+
+“Something bright.”
+
+“I, too,” cried Mousqueton, “saw them also.”
+
+“Ah! ah! have we overtaken them?”
+
+“Good! a dead horse!” said D’Artagnan, pulling up his horse, which shied; “it seems their horses, too, are breaking down, as well as ours.”
+
+“I seem to hear the noise of a troop of horsemen,” exclaimed Porthos, leaning over his horse’s mane.
+
+“Impossible.”
+
+“They appear to be numerous.”
+
+“Then ’tis something else.”
+
+“Another horse!” said Porthos.
+
+“Dead?”
+
+“No, dying.”
+
+“Saddled?”
+
+“Yes, saddled and bridled.”
+
+“Then we are upon the fugitives.”
+
+“Courage, we have them!”
+
+“But if they are numerous,” observed Mousqueton, “’tis not we who have them, but they who have us.”
+
+“Nonsense!” cried D’Artagnan, “they’ll suppose us to be stronger than themselves, as we’re in pursuit; they’ll be afraid and will disperse.”
+
+“Certainly,” remarked Porthos.
+
+“Ah! do you see?” cried the lieutenant.
+
+“The lights again! this time I, too, saw them,” said Porthos.
+
+“On! on! forward! forward!” cried D’Artagnan, in his stentorian voice; “we shall laugh over all this in five minutes.”
+
+And they darted on anew. The horses, excited by pain and emulation, raced over the dark road, in the midst of which was now seen a moving mass, denser and more obscure than the rest of the horizon.
+
+Chapter XXVI. The Rencontre.
+
+They rode on in this way for ten minutes. Suddenly two dark forms seemed to separate from the mass, advanced, grew in size, and as they loomed up larger and larger, assumed the appearance of two horsemen.
+
+“Aha!” cried D’Artagnan, “they’re coming toward us.”
+
+“So much the worse for them,” said Porthos.
+
+“Who goes there?” cried a hoarse voice.
+
+The three horsemen made no reply, stopped not, and all that was heard was the noise of swords drawn from the scabbards and the cocking of the pistols with which the two phantoms were armed.
+
+“Bridle in mouth!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+Porthos understood him and he and the lieutenant each drew with the left hand a pistol from their bolsters and cocked it in their turn.
+
+“Who goes there?” was asked a second time. “Not a step forward, or you’re dead men.”
+
+“Stuff!” cried Porthos, almost choked with dust and chewing his bridle as a horse chews his bit. “Stuff and nonsense; we have seen plenty of dead men in our time.”
+
+Hearing these words, the two shadows blockaded the road and by the light of the stars might be seen the shining of their arms.
+
+“Back!” shouted D’Artagnan, “or you are dead!”
+
+Two shots were the reply to this threat; but the assailants attacked their foes with such velocity that in a moment they were upon them; a third pistol-shot was heard, aimed by D’Artagnan, and one of his adversaries fell. As for Porthos, he assaulted the foe with such violence that, although his sword was thrust aside, the enemy was thrown off his horse and fell about ten steps from it.
+
+“Finish, Mouston, finish the work!” cried Porthos. And he darted on beside his friend, who had already begun a fresh pursuit.
+
+“Well?” said Porthos.
+
+“I’ve broken my man’s skull,” cried D’Artagnan. “And you — — ”
+
+“I’ve only thrown the fellow down, but hark!”
+
+Another shot of a carbine was heard. It was Mousqueton, who was obeying his master’s command.
+
+“On! on!” cried D’Artagnan; “all goes well! we have the first throw.”
+
+“Ha! ha!” answered Porthos, “behold, other players appear.”
+
+And in fact, two other cavaliers made their appearance, detached, as it seemed, from the principal group; they again disputed the road.
+
+This time the lieutenant did not wait for the opposite party to speak.
+
+“Stand aside!” he cried; “stand off the road!”
+
+“What do you want?” asked a voice.
+
+“The duke!” Porthos and D’Artagnan roared out both at once.
+
+A burst of laughter was the answer, but finished with a groan. D’Artagnan had, with his sword, cut in two the poor wretch who had laughed.
+
+At the same time Porthos and his adversary fired on each other and D’Artagnan turned to him.
+
+“Bravo! you’ve killed him, I think.”
+
+“No, wounded his horse only.”
+
+“What would you have, my dear fellow? One doesn’t hit the bull’s-eye every time; it is something to hit inside the ring. Ho! parbleau! what is the matter with my horse?”
+
+“Your horse is falling,” said Porthos, reining in his own.
+
+In truth, the lieutenant’s horse stumbled and fell on his knees; then a rattling in his throat was heard and he lay down to die. He had received in the chest the bullet of D’Artagnan’s first adversary. D’Artagnan swore loud enough to be heard in the skies.
+
+“Does your honor want a horse?” asked Mousqueton.
+
+“Zounds! want one!” cried the Gascon.
+
+“Here’s one, your honor — — ”
+
+“How the devil hast thou two horses?” asked D’Artagnan, jumping on one of them.
+
+“Their masters are dead! I thought they might be useful, so I took them.”
+
+Meantime Porthos had reloaded his pistols.
+
+“Be on the qui vive!” cried D’Artagnan. “Here are two other cavaliers.”
+
+As he spoke, two horsemen advanced at full speed.
+
+“Ho! your honor!” cried Mousqueton, “the man you upset is getting up.”
+
+“Why didn’t thou do as thou didst to the first man?” said Porthos.
+
+“I held the horses, my hands were full, your honor.”
+
+A shot was fired that moment; Mousqueton shrieked with pain.
+
+“Ah, sir! I’m hit in the other side! exactly opposite the other! This hurt is just the fellow of the one I had on the road to Amiens.”
+
+Porthos turned around like a lion, plunged on the dismounted cavalier, who tried to draw his sword; but before it was out of the scabbard, Porthos, with the hilt of his had struck him such a terrible blow on the head that he fell like an ox beneath the butcher’s knife.
+
+Mousqueton, groaning, slipped from his horse, his wound not allowing him to keep the saddle.
+
+On perceiving the cavaliers, D’Artagnan had stopped and charged his pistol afresh; besides, his horse, he found, had a carbine on the bow of the saddle.
+
+“Here I am!” exclaimed Porthos. “Shall we wait, or shall we charge?”
+
+“Let us charge them,” answered the Gascon.
+
+“Charge!” cried Porthos.
+
+They spurred on their horses; the other cavaliers were only twenty steps from them.
+
+“For the king!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“The king has no authority here!” answered a deep voice, which seemed to proceed from a cloud, so enveloped was the cavalier in a whirlwind of dust.
+
+“’Tis well, we will see if the king’s name is not a passport everywhere,” replied the Gascon.
+
+“See!” answered the voice.
+
+Two shots were fired at once, one by D’Artagnan, the other by the adversary of Porthos. D’Artagnan’s ball took off his enemy’s hat. The ball fired by Porthos’s foe went through the throat of his horse, which fell, groaning.
+
+“For the last time, where are you going?”
+
+“To the devil!” answered D’Artagnan.
+
+“Good! you may be easy, then — you’ll get there.”
+
+D’Artagnan then saw a musket-barrel leveled at him; he had no time to draw from his holsters. He recalled a bit of advice which Athos had once given him, and made his horse rear.
+
+The ball struck the animal full in front. D’Artagnan felt his horse giving way under him and with his wonderful agility threw himself to one side.
+
+“Ah! this,” cried the voice, the tone of which was at once polished and jeering, “this is nothing but a butchery of horses and not a combat between men. To the sword, sir! the sword!”
+
+And he jumped off his horse.
+
+“To the swords! be it so!” replied D’Artagnan; “that is exactly what I want.”
+
+D’Artagnan, in two steps, was engaged with the foe, whom, according to custom, he attacked impetuously, but he met this time with a skill and a strength of arm that gave him pause. Twice he was obliged to step back; his opponent stirred not one inch. D’Artagnan returned and again attacked him.
+
+Twice or thrice thrusts were attempted on both sides, without effect; sparks were emitted from the swords like water spouting forth.
+
+At last D’Artagnan thought it was time to try one of his favorite feints in fencing. He brought it to bear, skillfully executed it with the rapidity of lightning, and struck the blow with a force which he fancied would prove irresistible.
+
+The blow was parried.
+
+“‘Sdeath!” he cried, with his Gascon accent.
+
+At this exclamation his adversary bounded back and, bending his bare head, tried to distinguish in the gloom the features of the lieutenant.
+
+As to D’Artagnan, afraid of some feint, he still stood on the defensive.
+
+“Have a care,” cried Porthos to his opponent; “I’ve still two pistols charged.”
+
+“The more reason you should fire the first!” cried his foe.
+
+Porthos fired; the flash threw a gleam of light over the field of battle.
+
+As the light shone on them a cry was heard from the other two combatants.
+
+“Athos!” exclaimed D’Artagnan.
+
+“D’Artagnan!” ejaculated Athos.
+
+Athos raised his sword; D’Artagnan lowered his.
+
+“Aramis!” cried Athos, “don’t fire!”
+
+“Ah! ha! is it you, Aramis?” said Porthos.
+
+And he threw away his pistol.
+
+Aramis pushed his back into his saddle-bags and sheathed his sword.
+
+“My son!” exclaimed Athos, extending his hand to D’Artagnan.
+
+This was the name which he gave him in former days, in their moments of tender intimacy.
+
+“Athos!” cried D’Artagnan, wringing his hands. “So you defend him! And I, who have sworn to take him dead or alive, I am dishonored — and by you!”
+
+“Kill me!” replied Athos, uncovering his breast, “if your honor requires my death.”
+
+“Oh! woe is me! woe is me!” cried the lieutenant; “there’s only one man in the world who could stay my hand; by a fatality that very man bars my way. What shall I say to the cardinal?”
+
+“You can tell him, sir,” answered a voice which was the voice of high command in the battle-field, “that he sent against me the only two men capable of getting the better of four men; of fighting man to man, without discomfiture, against the Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d’Herblay, and of surrendering only to fifty men!
+
+“The prince!” exclaimed at the same moment Athos and Aramis, unmasking as they addressed the Duc de Beaufort, whilst D’Artagnan and Porthos stepped backward.
+
+“Fifty cavaliers!” cried the Gascon and Porthos.
+
+“Look around you, gentlemen, if you doubt the fact,” said the duke.
+
+The two friends looked to the right, to the left; they were encompassed by a troop of horsemen.
+
+“Hearing the noise of the fight,” resumed the duke, “I fancied you had about twenty men with you, so I came back with those around me, tired of always running away, and wishing to draw my sword in my own cause; but you are only two.”
+
+“Yes, my lord; but, as you have said, two that are a match for twenty,” said Athos.
+
+“Come, gentlemen, your swords,” said the duke.
+
+“Our swords!” cried D’Artagnan, raising his head and regaining his self-possession. “Never!”
+
+“Never!” added Porthos.
+
+Some of the men moved toward them.
+
+“One moment, my lord,” whispered Athos, and he said something in a low voice.
+
+“As you will,” replied the duke. “I am too much indebted to you to refuse your first request. Gentlemen,” he said to his escort, “withdraw. Monsieur d’Artagnan, Monsieur du Vallon, you are free.”
+
+The order was obeyed; D’Artagnan and Porthos then found themselves in the centre of a large circle.
+
+“Now, D’Herblay,” said Athos, “dismount and come here.”
+
+Aramis dismounted and went to Porthos, whilst Athos approached D’Artagnan.
+
+All four once more together.
+
+“Friends!” said Athos, “do you regret you have not shed our blood?”
+
+“No,” replied D’Artagnan; “I regret to see that we, hitherto united, are opposed to each other. Ah! nothing will ever go well with us hereafter!”
+
+“Oh, Heaven! No, all is over!” said Porthos.
+
+“Well, be on our side now,” resumed Aramis.
+
+“Silence, D’Herblay!” cried Athos; “such proposals are not to be made to gentlemen such as these. ’Tis a matter of conscience with them, as with us.”
+
+“Meantime, here we are, enemies!” said Porthos. “Gramercy! who would ever have thought it?”
+
+D’Artagnan only sighed.
+
+Athos looked at them both and took their hands in his.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he said, “this is a serious business and my heart bleeds as if you had pierced it through and through. Yes, we are severed; there is the great, the distressing truth! But we have not as yet declared war; perhaps we shall have to make certain conditions, therefore a solemn conference is indispensable.”
+
+“For my own part, I demand it,” said Aramis.
+
+“I accept it,” interposed D’Artagnan, proudly.
+
+Porthos bowed, as if in assent.
+
+“Let us choose a place of rendezvous,” continued Athos, “and in a last interview arrange our mutual position and the conduct we are to maintain toward each other.”
+
+“Good!” the other three exclaimed.
+
+“Well, then, the place?”
+
+“Will the Place Royale suit you?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“In Paris?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Athos and Aramis looked at each other.
+
+“The Place Royale — be it so!” replied Athos.
+
+“When?”
+
+“To-morrow evening, if you like!”
+
+“At what hour?”
+
+“At ten in the evening, if that suits you; by that time we shall have returned.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“There,” continued Athos, “either peace or war will be decided; honor, at all events, will be maintained!”
+
+“Alas!” murmured D’Artagnan, “our honor as soldiers is lost to us forever!”
+
+“D’Artagnan,” said Athos, gravely, “I assure you that you do me wrong in dwelling so upon that. What I think of is, that we have crossed swords as enemies. Yes,” he continued, sadly shaking his head, “Yes, it is as you said, misfortune, indeed, has overtaken us. Come, Aramis.”
+
+“And we, Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, “will return, carrying our shame to the cardinal.”
+
+“And tell him,” cried a voice, “that I am not too old yet for a man of action.”
+
+D’Artagnan recognized the voice of De Rochefort.
+
+“Can I do anything for you, gentlemen?” asked the duke.
+
+“Bear witness that we have done all that we could.”
+
+“That shall be testified to, rest assured. Adieu! we shall meet soon, I trust, in Paris, where you shall have your revenge.” The duke, as he spoke, kissed his hand, spurred his horse into a gallop and disappeared, followed by his troop, who were soon lost in distance and darkness.
+
+D’Artagnan and Porthos were now alone with a man who held by the bridles two horses; they thought it was Mousqueton and went up to him.
+
+“What do I see?” cried the lieutenant. “Grimaud, is it thou?”
+
+Grimaud signified that he was not mistaken.
+
+“And whose horses are these?” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“Who has given them to us?” said Porthos.
+
+“The Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“Athos! Athos!” muttered D’Artagnan; “you think of every one; you are indeed a nobleman! Whither art thou going, Grimaud?”
+
+“To join the Vicomte de Bragelonne in Flanders, your honor.”
+
+They were taking the road toward Paris, when groans, which seemed to proceed from a ditch, attracted their attention.
+
+“What is that?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“It is I — Mousqueton,” said a mournful voice, whilst a sort of shadow arose out of the side of the road.
+
+Porthos ran to him. “Art thou dangerously wounded, my dear Mousqueton?” he said.
+
+“No, sir, but I am severely.”
+
+“What can we do?” said D’Artagnan; “we must return to Paris.”
+
+“I will take care of Mousqueton,” said Grimaud; and he gave his arm to his old comrade, whose eyes were full of tears, nor could Grimaud tell whether the tears were caused by wounds or by the pleasure of seeing him again.
+
+D’Artagnan and Porthos went on, meantime, to Paris. They were passed by a sort of courier, covered with dust, the bearer of a letter from the duke to the cardinal, giving testimony to the valor of D’Artagnan and Porthos.
+
+Mazarin had passed a very bad night when this letter was brought to him, announcing that the duke was free and that he would henceforth raise up mortal strife against him.
+
+“What consoles me,” said the cardinal after reading the letter, “is that, at least, in this chase, D’Artagnan has done me one good turn — he has destroyed Broussel. This Gascon is a precious fellow; even his misadventures are of use.”
+
+The cardinal referred to that man whom D’Artagnan upset at the corner of the Cimetiere Saint Jean in Paris, and who was no other than the Councillor Broussel.
+
+Chapter XXVII. The four old Friends prepare to meet again.
+
+Well,” said Porthos, seated in the courtyard of the Hotel de la Chevrette, to D’Artagnan, who, with a long and melancholy face, had returned from the Palais Royal; “did he receive you ungraciously, my dear friend?”
+
+“I’faith, yes! a brute, that cardinal. What are you eating there, Porthos?”
+
+“I am dipping a biscuit in a glass of Spanish wine; do the same.”
+
+“You are right. Gimblou, a glass of wine.”
+
+“Well, how has all gone off?”
+
+“Zounds! you know there’s only one way of saying things, so I went in and said, ‘My lord, we were not the strongest party.’
+
+“‘Yes, I know that,’ he said, ‘but give me the particulars.’
+
+“You know, Porthos, I could not give him the particulars without naming our friends; to name them would be to commit them to ruin, so I merely said they were fifty and we were two.
+
+“‘There was firing, nevertheless, I heard,’ he said; ‘and your swords — they saw the light of day, I presume?’
+
+“‘That is, the night, my lord,’ I answered.
+
+“‘Ah!’ cried the cardinal, ‘I thought you were a Gascon, my friend?’
+
+“‘I am a Gascon,’ said I, ‘only when I succeed.’ The answer pleased him and he laughed.
+
+“‘That will teach me,’ he said, ‘to have my guards provided with better horses; for if they had been able to keep up with you and if each one of them had done as much as you and your friend, you would have kept your word and would have brought him back to me dead or alive.’”
+
+“Well, there’s nothing bad in that, it seems to me,” said Porthos.
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu! no, nothing at all. It was the way in which he spoke. It is incredible how these biscuit soak up wine! They are veritable sponges! Gimblou, another bottle.”
+
+The bottle was brought with a promptness which showed the degree of consideration D’Artagnan enjoyed in the establishment. He continued:
+
+“So I was going away, but he called me back.
+
+“‘You have had three horses foundered or killed?’ he asked me.
+
+“‘Yes, my lord.’
+
+“‘How much were they worth?’”
+
+“Why,” said Porthos, “that was very good of him, it seems to me.”
+
+“‘A thousand pistoles,’ I said.”
+
+“A thousand pistoles!” Porthos exclaimed. “Oh! oh! that is a large sum. If he knew anything about horses he would dispute the price.”
+
+“Faith! he was very much inclined to do so, the contemptible fellow. He made a great start and looked at me. I also looked at him; then he understood, and putting his hand into a drawer, he took from it a quantity of notes on a bank in Lyons.”
+
+“For a thousand pistoles?”
+
+“For a thousand pistoles — just that amount, the beggar; not one too many.”
+
+“And you have them?”
+
+“They are here.”
+
+“Upon my word, I think he acted very generously.”
+
+“Generously! to men who had risked their lives for him, and besides had done him a great service?”
+
+“A great service — what was that?”
+
+“Why, it seems that I crushed for him a parliament councillor.”
+
+“What! that little man in black that you upset at the corner of Saint Jean Cemetery?”
+
+“That’s the man, my dear fellow; he was an annoyance to the cardinal. Unfortunately, I didn’t crush him flat. It seems that he came to himself and that he will continue to be an annoyance.”
+
+“See that, now!” said Porthos; “and I turned my horse aside from going plump on to him! That will be for another time.”
+
+“He owed me for the councillor, the pettifogger!”
+
+“But,” said Porthos, “if he was not crushed completely — — ”
+
+“Ah! Monsieur de Richelieu would have said, ‘Five hundred crowns for the councillor.’ Well, let’s say no more about it. How much were your animals worth, Porthos?”
+
+“Ah, if poor Mousqueton were here he could tell you to a fraction.”
+
+“No matter; you can tell within ten crowns.”
+
+“Why, Vulcan and Bayard cost me each about two hundred pistoles, and putting Phoebus at a hundred and fifty, we should be pretty near the amount.”
+
+“There will remain, then, four hundred and fifty pistoles,” said D’Artagnan, contentedly.
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “but there are the equipments.”
+
+“That is very true. Well, how much for the equipments?”
+
+“If we say one hundred pistoles for the three — — ”
+
+“Good for the hundred pistoles; there remains, then, three hundred and fifty.”
+
+Porthos made a sign of assent.
+
+“We will give the fifty pistoles to the hostess for our expenses,” said D’Artagnan, “and share the three hundred.”
+
+“We will share,” said Porthos.
+
+“A paltry piece of business!” murmured D’Artagnan crumpling his note.
+
+“Pooh!” said Porthos, “it is always that. But tell me — — ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Didn’t he speak of me in any way?”
+
+“Ah! yes, indeed!” cried D’Artagnan, who was afraid of disheartening his friend by telling him that the cardinal had not breathed a word about him; “yes, surely, he said — — ”
+
+“He said?” resumed Porthos.
+
+“Stop, I want to remember his exact words. He said, ‘As to your friend, tell him he may sleep in peace.’”
+
+“Good, very good,” said Porthos; “that signified as clear as daylight that he still intends to make me a baron.”
+
+At this moment nine o’clock struck. D’Artagnan started.
+
+“Ah, yes,” said Porthos, “there is nine o’clock. We have a rendezvous, you remember, at the Place Royale.”
+
+“Ah! stop! hold your peace, Porthos, don’t remind me of it; ’tis that which has made me so cross since yesterday. I shall not go.”
+
+“Why?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Because it is a grievous thing for me to meet again those two men who caused the failure of our enterprise.”
+
+“And yet,” said Porthos, “neither of them had any advantage over us. I still had a loaded pistol and you were in full fight, sword in hand.”
+
+“Yes,” said D’Artagnan; “but what if this rendezvous had some hidden purpose?”
+
+“Oh!” said Porthos, “you can’t think that, D’Artagnan!”
+
+D’Artagnan did not believe Athos to be capable of a deception, but he sought an excuse for not going to the rendezvous.
+
+“We must go,” said the superb lord of Bracieux, “lest they should say we were afraid. We who have faced fifty foes on the high road can well meet two in the Place Royale.”
+
+“Yes, yes, but they took part with the princes without apprising us of it. Athos and Aramis have played a game with me which alarms me. We discovered yesterday the truth; what is the use of going to-day to learn something else?”
+
+“You really have some distrust, then?” said Porthos.
+
+“Of Aramis, yes, since he has become an abbé. You can’t imagine, my dear fellow, the sort of man he is. He sees us on the road which leads him to a bishopric, and perhaps will not be sorry to get us out of his way.”
+
+“Ah, as regards Aramis, that is another thing,” said Porthos, “and it wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
+
+“Perhaps Monsieur de Beaufort will try, in his turn, to lay hands on us.”
+
+“Nonsense! He had us in his power and he let us go. Besides we can be on our guard; let us take arms, let Planchet post himself behind us with his carbine.”
+
+“Planchet is a Frondeur,” answered D’Artagnan.
+
+“Devil take these civil wars! one can no more now reckon on one’s friends than on one’s footmen,” said Porthos. “Ah! if Mousqueton were here! there’s a fellow who will never desert me!”
+
+“So long as you are rich! Ah! my friend! ’tis not civil war that disunites us. It is that we are each of us twenty years older; it is that the honest emotions of youth have given place to suggestions of interest, whispers of ambition, counsels of selfishness. Yes, you are right; let us go, Porthos, but let us go well armed; were we not to keep the rendezvous, they would declare we were afraid. Halloo! Planchet! here! saddle our horses, take your carbine.”
+
+“Whom are we going to attack, sir?”
+
+“No one; a mere matter of precaution,” answered the Gascon.
+
+“You know, sir, that they wished to murder that good councillor, Broussel, the father of the people?”
+
+“Really, did they?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, but he has been avenged. He was carried home in the arms of the people. His house has been full ever since. He has received visits from the coadjutor, from Madame de Longueville, and the Prince de Conti; Madame de Chevreuse and Madame de Vendome have left their names at his door. And now, whenever he wishes — — ”
+
+“Well, whenever he wishes?”
+
+Planchet began to sing:
+
+“Un vent de fronde S’est leve ce matin; Je crois qu’il gronde Contre le Mazarin. Un vent de fronde S’est leve ce matin.”
+
+“It doesn’t surprise me,” said D’Artagnan, in a low tone to Porthos, “that Mazarin would have been much better satisfied had I crushed the life out of his councillor.”
+
+“You understand, then, monsieur,” resumed Planchet, “that if it were for some enterprise like that undertaken against Monsieur Broussel that you should ask me to take my carbine — — ”
+
+“No, don’t be alarmed; but where did you get all these details?”
+
+“From a good source, sir; I heard it from Friquet.”
+
+“From Friquet? I know that name — — ”
+
+“A son of Monsieur de Broussel’s servant, and a lad that, I promise you, in a revolt will not give away his share to the dogs.”
+
+“Is he not a singing boy at Notre Dame?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, that is the very boy; he’s patronized by Bazin.”
+
+“Ah, yes, I know.”
+
+“Of what importance is this little reptile to you?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Gad!” replied D’Artagnan; “he has already given me good information and he may do the same again.”
+
+Whilst all this was going on, Athos and Aramis were entering Paris by the Faubourg St. Antoine. They had taken some refreshment on the road and hastened on, that they might not fail at the appointed place. Bazin was their only attendant, for Grimaud had stayed behind to take care of Mousqueton. As they were passing onward, Athos proposed that they should lay aside their arms and military costume, and assume a dress more suited to the city.
+
+“Oh, no, dear count!” cried Aramis, “is it not a warlike encounter that we are going to?”
+
+“What do you mean, Aramis?”
+
+“That the Place Royale is the termination to the main road to Vendomois, and nothing else.”
+
+“What! our friends?”
+
+“Are become our most dangerous enemies, Athos. Let us be on our guard.”
+
+“Oh! my dear D’Herblay!”
+
+“Who can say whether D’Artagnan may not have betrayed us to the cardinal? who can tell whether Mazarin may not take advantage of this rendezvous to seize us?”
+
+“What! Aramis, you think that D’Artagnan, that Porthos, would lend their hands to such an infamy?”
+
+“Among friends, my dear Athos, no, you are right; but among enemies it would be only a stratagem.”
+
+Athos crossed his arms and bowed his noble head.
+
+“What can you expect, Athos? Men are so made; and we are not always twenty years old. We have cruelly wounded, as you know, that personal pride by which D’Artagnan is blindly governed. He has been beaten. Did you not observe his despair on the journey? As to Porthos, his barony was perhaps dependent on that affair. Well, he found us on his road and will not be baron this time. Perhaps that famous barony will have something to do with our interview this evening. Let us take our precautions, Athos.”
+
+“But suppose they come unarmed? What a disgrace to us.”
+
+“Oh, never fear! besides, if they do, we can easily make an excuse; we came straight off a journey and are insurgents, too.”
+
+“An excuse for us! to meet D’Artagnan with a false excuse! to have to make a false excuse to Porthos! Oh, Aramis!” continued Athos, shaking his head mournfully, “upon my soul, you make me the most miserable of men; you disenchant a heart not wholly dead to friendship. Go in whatever guise you choose; for my part, I shall go unarmed.”
+
+“No, for I will not allow you to do so. ’Tis not one man, not Athos only, not the Comte de la Fere whom you will ruin by this amiable weakness, but a whole party to whom you belong and who depend upon you.”
+
+“Be it so then,” replied Athos, sorrowfully.
+
+And they pursued their road in mournful silence.
+
+Scarcely had they reached by the Rue de la Mule the iron gate of the Place Royale, when they perceived three cavaliers, D’Artagnan, Porthos, and Planchet, the two former wrapped up in their military cloaks under which their swords were hidden, and Planchet, his musket by his side. They were waiting at the entrance of the Rue Sainte Catharine, and their horses were fastened to the rings of the arcade. Athos, therefore, commanded Bazin to fasten up his horse and that of Aramis in the same manner.
+
+They then advanced two and two, and saluted each other politely.
+
+“Now where will it be agreeable to you that we hold our conference?” inquired Aramis, perceiving that people were stopping to look at them, supposing that they were going to engage in one of those far-famed duels still extant in the memory of the Parisians, and especially the inhabitants of the Place Royale.
+
+“The gate is shut,” said Aramis, “but if these gentlemen like a cool retreat under the trees, and perfect seclusion, I will get the key from the Hotel de Rohan and we shall be well suited.”
+
+D’Artagnan darted a look into the obscurity of the Place. Porthos ventured to put his head between the railings, to try if his glance could penetrate the gloom.
+
+“If you prefer any other place,” said Athos, in his persuasive voice, “choose for yourselves.”
+
+“This place, if Monsieur d’Herblay can procure the key, is the best that we can have,” was the answer.
+
+Aramis went off at once, begging Athos not to remain alone within reach of D’Artagnan and Porthos; a piece of advice which was received with a contemptuous smile.
+
+Aramis returned soon with a man from the Hotel de Rohan, who was saying to him:
+
+“You swear, sir, that it is not so?”
+
+“Stop,” and Aramis gave him a louis d’or.
+
+“Ah! you will not swear, my master,” said the concierge, shaking his head.
+
+“Well, one can never say what may happen; at present we and these gentlemen are excellent friends.”
+
+“Yes, certainly,” added Athos and the other two.
+
+D’Artagnan had heard the conversation and had understood it.
+
+“You see?” he said to Porthos.
+
+“What do I see?”
+
+“That he wouldn’t swear.”
+
+“Swear what?”
+
+“That man wanted Aramis to swear that we are not going to the Place Royale to fight.”
+
+“And Aramis wouldn’t swear?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Attention, then!”
+
+Athos did not lose sight of the two speakers. Aramis opened the gate and faced around in order that D’Artagnan and Porthos might enter. In passing through the gate, the hilt of the lieutenant’s sword was caught in the grating and he was obliged to pull off his cloak; in doing so he showed the butt end of his pistols and a ray of the moon was reflected on the shining metal.
+
+“Do you see?” whispered Aramis to Athos, touching his shoulder with one hand and pointing with the other to the arms which the Gascon wore under his belt.
+
+“Alas! I do!” replied Athos, with a deep sigh.
+
+He entered third, and Aramis, who shut the gate after him, last. The two serving-men waited without; but as if they likewise mistrusted each other, they kept their respective distances.
+
+Chapter XXVIII. The Place Royale.
+
+They proceeded silently to the centre of the Place, but as at this very moment the moon had just emerged from behind a cloud, they thought they might be observed if they remained on that spot and therefore regained the shade of the lime-trees.
+
+There were benches here and there; the four gentlemen stopped near them; at a sign from Athos, Porthos and D’Artagnan sat down, the two others stood in front of them.
+
+After a few minutes of silent embarrassment, Athos spoke.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he said, “our presence here is the best proof of former friendship; not one of us has failed the others at this rendezvous; not one has, therefore, to reproach himself.”
+
+“Hear me, count,” replied D’Artagnan; “instead of making compliments to each other, let us explain our conduct to each other, like men of right and honest hearts.”
+
+“I wish for nothing more; have you any cause of complaint against me or Monsieur d’Herblay? If so, speak out,” answered Athos.
+
+“I have,” replied D’Artagnan. “When I saw you at your chateau at Bragelonne, I made certain proposals to you which you perfectly understood; instead of answering me as a friend, you played with me as a child; the friendship, therefore, that you boast of was not broken yesterday by the shock of swords, but by your dissimulation at your castle.”
+
+“D’Artagnan!” said Athos, reproachfully.
+
+“You asked for candor and you have it. You ask what I have against you; I tell you. And I have the same sincerity to show you, if you wish, Monsieur d’Herblay; I acted in a similar way to you and you also deceived me.”
+
+“Really, monsieur, you say strange things,” said Aramis. “You came seeking me to make to me certain proposals, but did you make them? No, you sounded me, nothing more. Very well what did I say to you? that Mazarin was contemptible and that I wouldn’t serve Mazarin. But that is all. Did I tell you that I wouldn’t serve any other? On the contrary, I gave you to understand, I think, that I adhered to the princes. We even joked very pleasantly, if I remember rightly, on the very probable contingency of your being charged by the cardinal with my arrest. Were you a party man? There is no doubt of that. Well, why should not we, too, belong to a party? You had your secret and we had ours; we didn’t exchange them. So much the better; it proves that we know how to keep our secrets.”
+
+“I do not reproach you, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan; “’tis only because Monsieur de la Fere has spoken of friendship that I question your conduct.”
+
+“And what do you find in it that is worthy of blame?” asked Aramis, haughtily.
+
+The blood mounted instantly to the temples of D’Artagnan, who arose, and replied:
+
+“I consider it worthy conduct of a pupil of Jesuits.”
+
+On seeing D’Artagnan rise, Porthos rose also; these four men were therefore all standing at the same time, with a menacing aspect, opposite to each other.
+
+Upon hearing D’Artagnan’s reply, Aramis seemed about to draw his sword, when Athos prevented him.
+
+“D’Artagnan,” he said, “you are here to-night, still infuriated by yesterday’s adventure. I believed your heart noble enough to enable a friendship of twenty years to overcome an affront of a quarter of an hour. Come, do you really think you have anything to say against me? Say it then; if I am in fault I will avow the error.”
+
+The grave and harmonious tones of that beloved voice seemed to have still its ancient influence, whilst that of Aramis, which had become harsh and tuneless in his moments of ill-humor, irritated him. He answered therefore:
+
+“I think, monsieur le comte, that you had something to communicate to me at your chateau of Bragelonne, and that gentleman” — he pointed to Aramis — “had also something to tell me when I was in his convent. At that time I was not concerned in the adventure, in the course of which you have so successfully estopped me! However, because I was prudent you must not take me for a fool. If I had wished to widen the breach between those whom Monsieur d’Herblay chooses to receive with a rope ladder and those whom he receives with a wooden ladder, I could have spoken out.”
+
+“What are you meddling with?” cried Aramis, pale with anger, suspecting that D’Artagnan had acted as a spy on him and had seen him with Madame de Longueville.
+
+“I never meddle save with what concerns me, and I know how to make believe that I haven’t seen what does not concern me; but I hate hypocrites, and among that number I place musketeers who are abbés and abbés who are musketeers; and,” he added, turning to Porthos “here’s a gentleman who’s of the same opinion as myself.”
+
+Porthos, who had not spoken one word, answered merely by a word and a gesture.
+
+He said “yes” and he put his hand on his sword.
+
+Aramis started back and drew his. D’Artagnan bent forward, ready either to attack or to stand on his defense.
+
+Athos at that moment extended his hand with the air of supreme command which characterized him alone, drew out his sword and the scabbard at the same time, broke the blade in the sheath on his knee and threw the pieces to his right. Then turning to Aramis:
+
+“Aramis,” he said, “break your sword.”
+
+Aramis hesitated.
+
+“It must be done,” said Athos; then in a lower and more gentle voice, he added. “I wish it.”
+
+Then Aramis, paler than before, but subdued by these words, snapped the serpent blade between his hands, and then folding his arms, stood trembling with rage.
+
+These proceedings made D’Artagnan and Porthos draw back. D’Artagnan did not draw his sword; Porthos put his back into the sheath.
+
+“Never!” exclaimed Athos, raising his right hand to Heaven, “never! I swear before God, who seeth us, and who, in the darkness of this night heareth us, never shall my sword cross yours, never my eye express a glance of anger, nor my heart a throb of hatred, at you. We lived together, we loved, we hated together; we shed, we mingled our blood together, and too probably, I may still add, that there may be yet a bond between us closer even than that of friendship; perhaps there may be the bond of crime; for we four, we once did condemn, judge and slay a human being whom we had not any right to cut off from this world, although apparently fitter for hell than for this life. D’Artagnan, I have always loved you as my son; Porthos, we slept six years side by side; Aramis is your brother as well as mine, and Aramis has once loved you, as I love you now and as I have ever loved you. What can Cardinal Mazarin be to us, to four men who compelled such a man as Richelieu to act as we pleased? What is such or such a prince to us, who fixed the diadem upon a great queen’s head? D’Artagnan, I ask your pardon for having yesterday crossed swords with you; Aramis does the same to Porthos; now hate me if you can; but for my own part, I shall ever, even if you do hate me, retain esteem and friendship for you. I repeat my words, Aramis, and then, if you desire it, and if they desire it, let us separate forever from our old friends.”
+
+There was a solemn, though momentary silence, which was broken by Aramis.
+
+“I swear,” he said, with a calm brow and kindly glance, but in a voice still trembling with recent emotion, “I swear that I no longer bear animosity to those who were once my friends. I regret that I ever crossed swords with you, Porthos; I swear not only that it shall never again be pointed at your breast, but that in the bottom of my heart there will never in future be the slightest hostile sentiment; now, Athos, come.”
+
+Athos was about to retire.
+
+“Oh! no! no! do not go away!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, impelled by one of those irresistible impulses which showed the nobility of his nature, the native brightness of his character; “I swear that I would give the last drop of my blood and the last fragment of my limbs to preserve the friendship of such a friend as you, Athos — of such a man as you, Aramis.” And he threw himself into the arms of Athos.
+
+“My son!” exclaimed Athos, pressing him in his arms.
+
+“And as for me,” said Porthos, “I swear nothing, but I’m choked. Forsooth! If I were obliged to fight against you, I think I should allow myself to be pierced through and through, for I never loved any one but you in the wide world;” and honest Porthos burst into tears as he embraced Athos.
+
+“My friends,” said Athos, “this is what I expected from such hearts as yours. Yes, I have said it and I now repeat it: our destinies are irrevocably united, although we now pursue divergent roads. I respect your convictions, and whilst we fight for opposite sides, let us remain friends. Ministers, princes, kings, will pass away like mountain torrents; civil war, like a forest flame; but we — we shall remain; I have a presentiment that we shall.”
+
+“Yes,” replied D’Artagnan, “let us still be musketeers, and let us retain as our battle-standard that famous napkin of the bastion St. Gervais, on which the great cardinal had three fleurs-de-lis embroidered.”
+
+“Be it so,” cried Aramis. “Cardinalists or Frondeurs, what matters it? Let us meet again as capital seconds in a duel, devoted friends in business, merry companions in our ancient pleasures.”
+
+“And whenever,” added Athos, “we meet in battle, at this word, ‘Place Royale!’ let us put our swords into our left hands and shake hands with the right, even in the very lust and music of the hottest carnage.”
+
+“You speak charmingly,” said Porthos.
+
+“And are the first of men!” added D’Artagnan. “You excel us all.”
+
+Athos smiled with ineffable pleasure.
+
+“’Tis then all settled. Gentlemen, your hands; are we not pretty good Christians?”
+
+“Egad!” said D’Artagnan, “by Heaven! yes.”
+
+“We should be so on this occasion, if only to be faithful to our oath,” said Aramis.
+
+“Ah, I’m ready to do what you will,” cried Porthos; “even to swear by Mahomet. Devil take me if I’ve ever been so happy as at this moment.”
+
+And he wiped his eyes, still moist.
+
+“Has not one of you a cross?” asked Athos.
+
+Aramis smiled and drew from his vest a cross of diamonds, which was hung around his neck by a chain of pearls. “Here is one,” he said.
+
+“Well,” resumed Athos, “swear on this cross, which, in spite of its magnificent material, is still a cross; swear to be united in spite of everything, and forever, and may this oath bind us to each other, and even, also, our descendants! Does this oath satisfy you?”
+
+“Yes,” said they all, with one accord.
+
+“Ah, traitor!” muttered D’Artagnan, leaning toward Aramis and whispering in his ear, “you have made us swear on the crucifix of a Frondeuse.”
+
+Chapter XXIX. The Ferry across the Oise.
+
+We hope that the reader has not quite forgotten the young traveler whom we left on the road to Flanders.
+
+In losing sight of his guardian, whom he had quitted, gazing after him in front of the royal basilican, Raoul spurred on his horse, in order not only to escape from his own melancholy reflections, but also to hide from Olivain the emotion his face might betray.
+
+One hour’s rapid progress, however, sufficed to disperse the gloomy fancies that had clouded the young man’s bright anticipations; and the hitherto unfelt pleasure of freedom — a pleasure which is sweet even to those who have never known dependence — seemed to Raoul to gild not only Heaven and earth, but especially that blue but dim horizon of life we call the future.
+
+Nevertheless, after several attempts at conversation with Olivain he foresaw that many days passed thus would prove exceedingly dull; and the count’s agreeable voice, his gentle and persuasive eloquence, recurred to his mind at the various towns through which they journeyed and about which he had no longer any one to give him those interesting details which he would have drawn from Athos, the most amusing and the best informed of guides. Another recollection contributed also to sadden Raoul: on their arrival at Sonores he had perceived, hidden behind a screen of poplars, a little chateau which so vividly recalled that of La Valliere to his mind that he halted for nearly ten minutes to gaze at it, and resumed his journey with a sigh too abstracted even to reply to Olivain’s respectful inquiry about the cause of so much fixed attention. The aspect of external objects is often a mysterious guide communicating with the fibres of memory, which in spite of us will arouse them at times; this thread, like that of Ariadne, when once unraveled will conduct one through a labyrinth of thought, in which one loses one’s self in endeavoring to follow that phantom of the past which is called recollection.
+
+Now the sight of this chateau had taken Raoul back fifty leagues westward and had caused him to review his life from the moment when he had taken leave of little Louise to that in which he had seen her for the first time; and every branch of oak, every gilded weathercock on roof of slates, reminded him that, instead of returning to the friends of his childhood, every instant estranged him further and that perhaps he had even left them forever.
+
+With a full heart and burning head he desired Olivain to lead on the horses to a wayside inn, which he observed within gunshot range, a little in advance of the place they had reached.
+
+As for himself, he dismounted and remained under a beautiful group of chestnuts in flower, amidst which were murmuring a multitude of happy bees, and bade Olivain send the host to him with writing paper and ink, to be placed on a table which he found there, conveniently ready. Olivain obeyed and continued on his way, whilst Raoul remained sitting, with his elbow leaning on the table, from time to time gently shaking the flowers from his head, which fell upon him like snow, and gazing vaguely on the charming landscape spread out before him, dotted over with green fields and groups of trees. Raoul had been there about ten minutes, during five of which he was lost in reverie, when there appeared within the circle comprised in his rolling gaze a man with a rubicund face, who, with a napkin around his body, another under his arm, and a white cap upon his head, approached him, holding paper, pen and ink in hand.
+
+“Ha! ha!” laughed the apparition, “every gentleman seems to have the same fancy, for not a quarter of an hour ago a young lad, well mounted like you, as tall as you and of about your age, halted before this clump of trees and had this table and this chair brought here, and dined here, with an old gentleman who seemed to be his tutor, upon a pie, of which they haven’t left a mouthful, and two bottles of Macon wine, of which they haven’t left a drop, but fortunately we have still some of the same wine and some of the same pies left, and if your worship will but give your orders — — ”
+
+“No, friend,” replied Raoul, smiling, “I am obliged to you, but at this moment I want nothing but the things for which I have asked — only I shall be very glad if the ink prove black and the pen good; upon these conditions I will pay for the pen the price of the bottle, and for the ink the price of the pie.”
+
+“Very well, sir,” said the host, “I’ll give the pie and the bottle of wine to your servant, and in this way you will have the pen and ink into the bargain.”
+
+“Do as you like,” said Raoul, who was beginning his apprenticeship with that particular class of society, who, when there were robbers on the highroads, were connected with them, and who, since highwaymen no longer exist, have advantageously and aptly filled their vacant place.
+
+The host, his mind at ease about his bill, placed pen, ink and paper upon the table. By a lucky chance the pen was tolerably good and Raoul began to write. The host remained standing in front of him, looking with a kind of involuntary admiration at his handsome face, combining both gravity and sweetness of expression. Beauty has always been and always will be all-powerful.
+
+“He’s not a guest like the other one here just now,” observed mine host to Olivain, who had rejoined his master to see if he wanted anything, “and your young master has no appetite.”
+
+“My master had appetite enough three days ago, but what can one do? he lost it the day before yesterday.”
+
+And Olivain and the host took their way together toward the inn, Olivain, according to the custom of serving-men well pleased with their place, relating to the tavern-keeper all that he could say in favor of the young gentleman; whilst Raoul wrote on thus:
+
+“Sir, — After a four hours’ march I stop to write to you, for I miss you every moment, and I am always on the point of turning my head as if to reply when you speak to me. I was so bewildered by your departure and so overcome with grief at our separation, that I am sure I was able to but very feebly express all the affection and gratitude I feel toward you. You will forgive me, sir, for your heart is of such a generous nature that you can well understand all that has passed in mine. I entreat you to write to me, for you form a part of my existence, and, if I may venture to tell you so, I also feel anxious. It seemed to me as if you were yourself preparing for some dangerous undertaking, about which I did not dare to question you, since you told me nothing. I have, therefore, as you see, great need of hearing from you. Now that you are no longer beside me I am afraid every moment of erring. You sustained me powerfully, sir, and I protest to you that to-day I feel very lonely. Will you have the goodness, sir, should you receive news from Blois, to send me a few lines about my little friend Mademoiselle de la Valliere, about whose health, when we left, so much anxiety was felt? You can understand, honored and dear guardian, how precious and indispensable to me is the remembrance of the years that I have passed with you. I hope that you will sometimes, too, think of me, and if at certain hours you should miss me, if you should feel any slight regret at my absence, I shall be overwhelmed with joy at the thought that you appreciate my affection for and my devotion to yourself, and that I have been able to prove them to you whilst I had the happiness of living with you.”
+
+After finishing this letter Raoul felt more composed; he looked well around him to see if Olivain and the host might not be watching him, whilst he impressed a kiss upon the paper, a mute and touching caress, which the heart of Athos might well divine on opening the letter.
+
+During this time Olivain had finished his bottle and eaten his pie; the horses were also refreshed. Raoul motioned to the host to approach, threw a crown upon the table, mounted his horse, and posted his letter at Senlis. The rest that had been thus afforded to men and horses enabled them to continue their journey at a good round pace. At Verberie, Raoul desired Olivain to make some inquiry about the young man who was preceding them; he had been observed to pass only three-quarters of an hour previously, but he was well mounted, as the tavern-keeper had already said, and rode at a rapid pace.
+
+“Let us try and overtake this gentleman,” said Raoul to Olivain; “like ourselves he is on his way to join the army and may prove agreeable company.”
+
+It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when Raoul arrived at Compiegne; there he dined heartily and again inquired about the young gentleman who was in advance of them. He had stopped, like Raoul, at the Hotel of the Bell and Bottle, the best at Compiegne; and had started again on his journey, saying that he should sleep at Noyon.
+
+“Well, let us sleep at Noyon,” said Raoul.
+
+“Sir,” replied Olivain, respectfully, “allow me to remark that we have already much fatigued the horses this morning. I think it would be well to sleep here and to start again very early to-morrow. Eighteen leagues is enough for the first stage.”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere wished me to hasten on,” replied Raoul, “that I might rejoin the prince on the morning of the fourth day; let us push on, then, to Noyon; it will be a stage similar to those we traveled from Blois to Paris. We shall arrive at eight o’clock. The horses will have a long night’s rest, and at five o’clock to-morrow morning we can be again on the road.”
+
+Olivain dared offer no opposition to this determination but he followed his master, grumbling.
+
+“Go on, go on,” said he, between his teeth, “expend your ardor the first day; to-morrow, instead of journeying twenty leagues, you will travel ten, the day after to-morrow, five, and in three days you will be in bed. There you must rest; young people are such braggarts.”
+
+It was easy to see that Olivain had not been taught in the school of the Planchets and the Grimauds. Raoul really felt tired, but he was desirous of testing his strength, and, brought up in the principles of Athos and certain of having heard him speak a thousand times of stages of twenty-five leagues, he did not wish to fall far short of his model. D’Artagnan, that man of iron, who seemed to be made of nerve and muscle only, had struck him with admiration. Therefore, in spite of Olivain’s remarks, he continued to urge his steed more and more, and following a pleasant little path, leading to a ferry, and which he had been assured shortened the journey by the distance of one league, he arrived at the summit of a hill and perceived the river flowing before him. A little troop of men on horseback were waiting on the edge of the stream, ready to embark. Raoul did not doubt this was the gentleman and his escort; he called out to him, but they were too distant to be heard; then, in spite of the weariness of his beast, he made it gallop but the rising ground soon deprived him of all sight of the travelers, and when he had again attained a new height, the ferryboat had left the shore and was making for the opposite bank. Raoul, seeing that he could not arrive in time to cross the ferry with the travelers, halted to wait for Olivain. At this moment a shriek was heard that seemed to come from the river. Raoul turned toward the side whence the cry had sounded, and shaded his eyes from the glare of the setting sun with his hand.
+
+“Olivain!” he exclaimed, “what do I see below there?”
+
+A second scream, more piercing than the first, now sounded.
+
+“Oh, sir!” cried Olivain, “the rope which holds the ferryboat has broken and the boat is drifting. But what do I see in the water — something struggling?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” exclaimed Raoul, fixing his glance on one point in the stream, splendidly illumined by the setting sun, “a horse, a rider!”
+
+“They are sinking!” cried Olivain in his turn.
+
+It was true, and Raoul was convinced that some accident had happened and that a man was drowning; he gave his horse its head, struck his spurs into its sides, and the animal, urged by pain and feeling that he had space open before him, bounded over a kind of paling which inclosed the landing place, and fell into the river, scattering to a distance waves of white froth.
+
+“Ah, sir!” cried Olivain, “what are you doing? Good God!”
+
+Raoul was directing his horse toward the unhappy man in danger. This was, in fact, a custom familiar to him. Having been brought up on the banks of the Loire, he might have been said to have been cradled on its waves; a hundred times he had crossed it on horseback, a thousand times had swum across. Athos, foreseeing the period when he should make a soldier of the viscount, had inured him to all kinds of arduous undertakings.
+
+“Oh, heavens!” continued Olivain, in despair, “what would the count say if he only saw you now!”
+
+“The count would do as I do,” replied Raoul, urging his horse vigorously forward.
+
+“But I — but I,” cried Olivain, pale and disconsolate rushing about on the shore, “how shall I cross?”
+
+“Leap, coward!” cried Raoul, swimming on; then addressing the traveler, who was struggling twenty yards in front of him: “Courage, sir!” said he, “courage! we are coming to your aid.”
+
+Olivain advanced, retired, then made his horse rear — turned it and then, struck to the core by shame, leaped, as Raoul had done, only repeating:
+
+“I am a dead man! we are lost!”
+
+In the meantime, the ferryboat had floated away, carried down by the stream, and the shrieks of those whom it contained resounded more and more. A man with gray hair had thrown himself from the boat into the river and was swimming vigorously toward the person who was drowning; but being obliged to go against the current he advanced but slowly. Raoul continued his way and was visibly gaining ground; but the horse and its rider, of whom he did not lose sight, were evidently sinking. The nostrils of the horse were no longer above water, and the rider, who had lost the reins in struggling, fell with his head back and his arms extended. One moment longer and all would disappear.
+
+“Courage!” cried Raoul, “courage!”
+
+“Too late!” murmured the young man, “too late!”
+
+The water closed above his head and stifled his voice.
+
+Raoul sprang from his horse, to which he left the charge of its own preservation, and in three or four strokes was at the gentleman’s side; he seized the horse at once by the curb and raised its head above water; the animal began to breathe again and, as if he comprehended that they had come to his aid, redoubled his efforts. Raoul at the same time seized one of the young man’s hands and placed it on the mane, which it grasped with the tenacity of a drowning man. Thus, sure that the rider would not release his hold, Raoul now only directed his attention to the horse, which he guided to the opposite bank, helping it to cut through the water and encouraging it with words.
+
+All at once the horse stumbled against a ridge and then placed its foot on the sand.
+
+“Saved!” exclaimed the man with gray hair, who also touched bottom.
+
+“Saved!” mechanically repeated the young gentleman, releasing the mane and sliding from the saddle into Raoul’s arms; Raoul was but ten yards from the shore; there he bore the fainting man, and laying him down upon the grass, unfastened the buttons of his collar and unhooked his doublet. A moment later the gray-headed man was beside him. Olivain managed in his turn to land, after crossing himself repeatedly; and the people in the ferryboat guided themselves as well as they were able toward the bank, with the aid of a pole which chanced to be in the boat.
+
+Thanks to the attentions of Raoul and the man who accompanied the young gentleman, the color gradually returned to the pale cheeks of the dying man, who opened his eyes, at first entirely bewildered, but who soon fixed his gaze upon the person who had saved him.
+
+“Ah, sir,” he exclaimed, “it was you! Without you I was a dead man — thrice dead.”
+
+“But one recovers, sir, as you perceive,” replied Raoul, “and we have but had a little bath.”
+
+“Oh! sir, what gratitude I feel!” exclaimed the man with gray hair.
+
+“Ah, there you are, my good D’Arminges; I have given you a great fright, have I not? but it is your own fault. You were my tutor, why did you not teach me to swim?”
+
+“Oh, monsieur le comte,” replied the old man, “had any misfortune happened to you, I should never have dared to show myself to the marshal again.”
+
+“But how did the accident happen?” asked Raoul.
+
+“Oh, sir, in the most natural way possible,” replied he to whom they had given the title of count. “We were about a third of the way across the river when the cord of the ferryboat broke. Alarmed by the cries and gestures of the boatmen, my horse sprang into the water. I cannot swim, and dared not throw myself into the river. Instead of aiding the movements of my horse, I paralyzed them; and I was just going to drown myself with the best grace in the world, when you arrived just in time to pull me out of the water; therefore, sir, if you will agree, henceforward we are friends until death.”
+
+“Sir,” replied Raoul, bowing, “I am entirely at your service, I assure you.”
+
+“I am called the Count de Guiche,” continued the young man; “my father is the Marechal de Grammont; and now that you know who I am, do me the honor to inform me who you are.”
+
+“I am the Viscount de Bragelonne,” answered Raoul, blushing at being unable to name his father, as the Count de Guiche had done.
+
+“Viscount, your countenance, your goodness and your courage incline me toward you; my gratitude is already due. Shake hands — I crave your friendship.”
+
+“Sir,” said Raoul, returning the count’s pressure of the hand, “I like you already, from my heart; pray regard me as a devoted friend, I beseech you.”
+
+“And now, where are you going, viscount?” inquired De Guiche.
+
+“To join the army, under the prince, count.”
+
+“And I, too!” exclaimed the young man, in a transport of joy. “Oh, so much the better, we will fire the first shot together.”
+
+“It is well; be friends,” said the tutor; “young as you both are, you were perhaps born under the same star and were destined to meet. And now,” continued he, “you must change your clothes; your servants, to whom I gave directions the moment they had left the ferryboat, ought to be already at the inn. Linen and wine are both being warmed; come.”
+
+The young men had no objection to this proposition; on the contrary, they thought it very timely.
+
+They mounted again at once, whilst looks of admiration passed between them. They were indeed two elegant horsemen, with figures slight and upright, noble faces, bright and proud looks, loyal and intelligent smiles.
+
+De Guiche might have been about eighteen years of age, but he was scarcely taller than Raoul, who was only fifteen.
+
+Chapter XXX. Skirmishing.
+
+The halt at Noyon was but brief, every one there being wrapped in profound sleep. Raoul had desired to be awakened should Grimaud arrive, but Grimaud did not arrive. Doubtless, too, the horses on their part appreciated the eight hours of repose and the abundant stabling which was granted them. The Count de Guiche was awakened at five o’clock in the morning by Raoul, who came to wish him good-day. They breakfasted in haste, and at six o’clock had already gone ten miles.
+
+The young count’s conversation was most interesting to Raoul, therefore he listened much, whilst the count talked well and long. Brought up in Paris, where Raoul had been but once; at the court, which Raoul had never seen; his follies as page; two duels, which he had already found the means of fighting, in spite of the edicts against them and, more especially, in spite of his tutor’s vigilance — these things excited the greatest curiosity in Raoul. Raoul had only been at M. Scarron’s house; he named to Guiche the people whom he had seen there. Guiche knew everybody — Madame de Neuillan, Mademoiselle d’Aubigne, Mademoiselle de Scudery, Mademoiselle Paulet, Madame de Chevreuse. He criticised everybody humorously. Raoul trembled, lest he should laugh among the rest at Madame de Chevreuse, for whom he entertained deep and genuine sympathy, but either instinctively, or from affection for the duchess, he said everything in her favor. His praises increased Raoul’s friendship twofold. Then came the question of gallantry and love affairs. Under this head, also, Bragelonne had much more to hear than to tell. He listened attentively and fancied that he discovered through three or four rather frivolous adventures, that the count, like himself, had a secret to hide in the depths of his heart.
+
+De Guiche, as we have said before, had been educated at the court, and the intrigues of this court were not unknown to him. It was the same court of which Raoul had so often heard the Comte de la Fere speak, except that its aspect had much changed since the period when Athos had himself been part of it; therefore everything which the Count de Guiche related was new to his traveling companion. The young count, witty and caustic, passed all the world in review; the queen herself was not spared, and Cardinal Mazarin came in for his share of ridicule.
+
+The day passed away as rapidly as an hour. The count’s tutor, a man of the world and a bon vivant, up to his eyes in learning, as his pupil described him, often recalled the profound erudition, the witty and caustic satire of Athos to Raoul; but as regarded grace, delicacy, and nobility of external appearance, no one in these points was to be compared to the Comte de la Fere.
+
+The horses, which were more kindly used than on the previous day, stopped at Arras at four o’clock in the evening. They were approaching the scene of war; and as bands of Spaniards sometimes took advantage of the night to make expeditions even as far as the neighborhood of Arras, they determined to remain in the town until the morrow. The French army held all between Pont-a-Marc as far as Valenciennes, falling back upon Douai. The prince was said to be in person at Bethune.
+
+The enemy’s army extended from Cassel to Courtray; and as there was no species of violence or pillage it did not commit, the poor people on the frontier quitted their isolated dwellings and fled for refuge into the strong cities which held out a shelter to them. Arras was encumbered with fugitives. An approaching battle was much spoken of, the prince having manoeuvred, until that movement, only in order to await a reinforcement that had just reached him.
+
+The young men congratulated themselves on having arrived so opportunely. The evening was employed in discussing the war; the grooms polished their arms; the young men loaded the pistols in case of a skirmish, and they awoke in despair, having both dreamed that they had arrived too late to participate in the battle. In the morning it was rumored that Prince de Condé had evacuated Bethune and fallen back on Carvin, leaving, however, a strong garrison in the former city.
+
+But as there was nothing positively certain in this report, the young warriors decided to continue their way toward Bethune, free on the road to diverge to the right and march to Carvin if necessary.
+
+The count’s tutor was well acquainted with the country; he consequently proposed to take a crossroad, which lay between that of Lens and that of Bethune. They obtained information at Ablain, and a statement of their route was left for Grimaud. About seven o’clock in the morning they set out. De Guiche, who was young and impulsive, said to Raoul, “Here we are, three masters and three servants. Our valets are well armed and yours seems to be tough enough.”
+
+“I have never seen him put to the test,” replied Raoul, “but he is a Breton, which promises something.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” resumed De Guiche; “I am sure he can fire a musket when required. On my side I have two sure men, who have been in action with my father. We therefore represent six fighting men; if we should meet a little troop of enemies, equal or even superior in number to our own, shall we charge them, Raoul?”
+
+“Certainly, sir,” replied the viscount.
+
+“Holloa! young people — stop there!” said the tutor, joining in the conversation. “Zounds! how you manoeuvre my instructions, count! You seem to forget the orders I received to conduct you safe and sound to his highness the prince! Once with the army you may be killed at your good pleasure; but until that time, I warn you that in my capacity of general of the army I shall order a retreat and turn my back on the first red coat we come across.” De Guiche and Raoul glanced at each other, smiling.
+
+They arrived at Ablain without accident. There they inquired and learned that the prince had in reality quitted Bethune and stationed himself between Cambria and La Venthie. Therefore, leaving directions at every place for Grimaud, they took a crossroad which conducted the little troop by the bank of a small stream flowing into the Lys. The country was beautiful, intersected by valleys as green as the emerald. Here and there they passed little copses crossing the path which they were following. In anticipation of some ambuscade in each of these little woods the tutor placed his two servants at the head of the band, thus forming the advance guard. Himself and the two young men represented the body of the army, whilst Olivain, with his rifle upon his knee and his eyes upon the watch, protected the rear.
+
+They had observed for some time before them, on the horizon, a rather thick wood; and when they had arrived at a distance of a hundred steps from it, Monsieur d’Arminges took his usual precautions and sent on in advance the count’s two grooms. The servants had just disappeared under the trees, followed by the tutor, and the young men were laughing and talking about a hundred yards off. Olivain was at the same distance in the rear, when suddenly there resounded five or six musket-shots. The tutor cried halt; the young men obeyed, pulling up their steeds, and at the same moment the two valets were seen returning at a gallop.
+
+The young men, impatient to learn the cause of the firing, spurred on toward the servants. The tutor followed them.
+
+“Were you stopped?” eagerly inquired the two youths.
+
+“No,” replied the servants, “it is even probable that we have not been seen; the shots were fired about a hundred paces in advance of us, in the thickest part of the wood, and we returned to ask your advice.”
+
+“My advice is this,” said Monsieur d’Arminges, “and if needs be, my will, that we beat a retreat. There may be an ambuscade concealed in this wood.”
+
+“Did you see nothing there?” asked the count.
+
+“I thought I saw,” said one of the servants, “horsemen dressed in yellow, creeping along the bed of the stream.
+
+“That’s it,” said the tutor. “We have fallen in with a party of Spaniards. Come back, sirs, back.”
+
+The two youths looked at each other, and at this moment a pistol-shot and cries for help were heard. Another glance between the young men convinced them both that neither had any wish to go back, and as the tutor had already turned his horse’s head, they both spurred forward, Raoul crying: “Follow me, Olivain!” and the Count de Guiche: “Follow, Urban and Planchet!” And before the tutor could recover from his surprise they had both disappeared into the forest. Whilst they spurred their steeds they held their pistols ready also. In five minutes they arrived at the spot whence the noise had proceeded, and then restraining their horses, they advanced cautiously.
+
+“Hush,” whispered De Guiche, “these are cavaliers.”
+
+“Yes, three on horseback and three who have dismounted.”
+
+“Can you see what they are doing?”
+
+“Yes, they appear to be searching a wounded or dead man.”
+
+“It is some cowardly assassination,” said De Guiche.
+
+“They are soldiers, though,” resumed De Bragelonne.
+
+“Yes, skirmishers; that is to say, highway robbers.”
+
+“At them!” cried Raoul. “At them!” echoed De Guiche.
+
+“Oh! gentlemen! gentlemen! in the name of Heaven!” cried the poor tutor.
+
+But he was not listened to, and his cries only served to arouse the attention of the Spaniards.
+
+The men on horseback at once rushed at the two youths, leaving the three others to complete the plunder of the dead or wounded travelers; for on approaching nearer, instead of one extended figure, the young men discovered two. De Guiche fired the first shot at ten paces and missed his man; and the Spaniard, who had advanced to meet Raoul, aimed in his turn, and Raoul felt a pain in the left arm, similar to that of a blow from a whip. He let off his fire at but four paces. Struck in the breast and extending his arms, the Spaniard fell back on the crupper, and the terrified horse, turning around, carried him off.
+
+Raoul at this moment perceived the muzzle of a gun pointed at him, and remembering the recommendation of Athos, he, with the rapidity of lightning, made his horse rear as the shot was fired. His horse bounded to one side, losing its footing, and fell, entangling Raoul’s leg under its body. The Spaniard sprang forward and seized the gun by its muzzle, in order to strike Raoul on the head with the butt. In the position in which Raoul lay, unfortunately, he could neither draw his sword from the scabbard, nor his pistols from their holsters. The butt end of the musket hovered over his head, and he could scarcely restrain himself from closing his eyes, when with one bound Guiche reached the Spaniard and placed a pistol at his throat. “Yield!” he cried, “or you are a dead man!” The musket fell from the soldier’s hands, who yielded on the instant. Guiche summoned one of his grooms, and delivering the prisoner into his charge, with orders to shoot him through the head if he attempted to escape, he leaped from his horse and approached Raoul.
+
+“Faith, sir,” said Raoul, smiling, although his pallor betrayed the excitement consequent on a first affair, “you are in a great hurry to pay your debts and have not been long under any obligation to me. Without your aid,” continued he, repeating the count’s words “I should have been a dead man — thrice dead.”
+
+“My antagonist took flight,” replied De Guiche “and left me at liberty to come to your assistance. But are you seriously wounded? I see you are covered with blood!”
+
+“I believe,” said Raoul, “that I have got something like a scratch on the arm. If you will help me to drag myself from under my horse I hope nothing need prevent us continuing our journey.”
+
+Monsieur d’Arminges and Olivain had already dismounted and were attempting to raise the struggling horse. At last Raoul succeeded in drawing his foot from the stirrup and his leg from under the animal, and in a second he was on his feet again.
+
+“Nothing broken?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“Faith, no, thank Heaven!” replied Raoul; “but what has become of the poor wretches whom these scoundrels were murdering?”
+
+“I fear we arrived too late. They have killed them, I think, and taken flight, carrying off their booty. My servants are examining the bodies.”
+
+“Let us go and see whether they are quite dead, or if they can still be helped,” suggested Raoul. “Olivain, we have come into possession of two horses, but I have lost my own. Take for yourself the better of the two and give me yours.”
+
+They approached the spot where the unfortunate victims lay.
+
+Chapter XXXI. The Monk.
+
+Two men lay prone upon the ground, one bathed in blood and motionless, with his face toward the earth; this one was dead. The other leaned against a tree, supported there by the two valets, and was praying fervently, with clasped hands and eyes raised to Heaven. He had received a ball in his thigh, which had broken the bone. The young men first approached the dead man.
+
+“He is a priest,” said Bragelonne, “he has worn the tonsure. Oh, the scoundrels! to lift their hands against a minister of God.”
+
+“Come here, sir,” said Urban, an old soldier who had served under the cardinal duke in all his campaigns; “come here, there is nothing to be done with him, whilst we may perhaps be able to save the other.”
+
+The wounded man smiled sadly. “Save me! Oh, no!” said he, “but help me to die, if you can.”
+
+“Are you a priest?” asked Raoul.
+
+“No sir.”
+
+“I ask, as your unfortunate companion appeared to me to belong to the church.”
+
+“He is the curate of Bethune, sir, and was carrying the holy vessels belonging to his church, and the treasure of the chapter, to a safe place, the prince having abandoned our town yesterday; and as it was known that bands of the enemy were prowling about the country, no one dared to accompany the good man, so I offered to do so.
+
+“And, sir,” continued the wounded man, “I suffer much and would like, if possible, to be carried to some house.”
+
+“Where you can be relieved?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“No, where I can confess.”
+
+“But perhaps you are not so dangerously wounded as you think,” said Raoul.
+
+“Sir,” replied the wounded man, “believe me, there is no time to lose; the ball has broken the thigh bone and entered the intestines.”
+
+“Are you a surgeon?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“No, but I know a little about wounds, and mine, I know, is mortal. Try, therefore, either to carry me to some place where I may see a priest or take the trouble to send one to me here. It is my soul that must be saved; as for my body, it is lost.”
+
+“To die whilst doing a good deed! It is impossible. God will help you.”
+
+“Gentlemen, in the name of Heaven!” said the wounded man, collecting all his forces, as if to get up, “let us not lose time in useless words. Either help me to gain the nearest village or swear to me on your salvation that you will send me the first monk, the first curé, the first priest you may meet. But,” he added in a despairing tone, “perhaps no one will dare to come for it is known that the Spaniards are ranging through the country, and I shall die without absolution. My God! my God! Good God! good God!” added the wounded man, in an accent of terror which made the young men shudder; “you will not allow that? that would be too terrible!”
+
+“Calm yourself, sir,” replied De Guiche. “I swear to you, you shall receive the consolation that you ask. Only tell us where we shall find a house at which we can demand aid and a village from which we can fetch a priest.”
+
+“Thank you, and God reward you! About half a mile from this, on the same road, there is an inn, and about a mile further on, after leaving the inn, you will reach the village of Greney. There you must find the curate, or if he is not at home, go to the convent of the Augustines, which is the last house on the right, and bring me one of the brothers. Monk or priest, it matters not, provided only that he has received from holy church the power of absolving in articulo mortis.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Arminges,” said De Guiche, “remain beside this unfortunate man and see that he is removed as gently as possible. The vicomte and myself will go and find a priest.”
+
+“Go, sir,” replied the tutor; “but in Heaven’s name do not expose yourself to danger!”
+
+“Do not fear. Besides, we are safe for to-day; you know the axiom, ‘Non bis in idem.’”
+
+“Courage, sir,” said Raoul to the wounded man. “We are going to execute your wishes.”
+
+“May Heaven prosper you!” replied the dying man, with an accent of gratitude impossible to describe.
+
+The two young men galloped off in the direction mentioned and in ten minutes reached the inn. Raoul, without dismounting, called to the host and announced that a wounded man was about to be brought to his house and begged him in the meantime to prepare everything needful. He desired him also, should he know in the neighborhood any doctor or chirurgeon, to fetch him, taking on himself the payment of the messenger.
+
+The host, who saw two young noblemen, richly clad, promised everything they required, and our two cavaliers, after seeing that preparations for the reception were actually begun, started off again and proceeded rapidly toward Greney.
+
+They had gone rather more than a league and had begun to descry the first houses of the village, the red-tiled roofs of which stood out from the green trees which surrounded them, when, coming toward them mounted on a mule, they perceived a poor monk, whose large hat and gray worsted dress made them take him for an Augustine brother. Chance for once seemed to favor them in sending what they were so assiduously seeking. He was a man about twenty-two or twenty-three years old, but who appeared much older from ascetic exercises. His complexion was pale, not of that deadly pallor which is a kind of neutral beauty, but of a bilious, yellow hue; his colorless hair was short and scarcely extended beyond the circle formed by the hat around his head, and his light blue eyes seemed destitute of any expression.
+
+“Sir,” began Raoul, with his usual politeness, “are you an ecclesiastic?”
+
+“Why do you ask me that?” replied the stranger, with a coolness which was barely civil.
+
+“Because we want to know,” said De Guiche, haughtily.
+
+The stranger touched his mule with his heel and continued his way.
+
+In a second De Guiche had sprung before him and barred his passage. “Answer, sir,” exclaimed he; “you have been asked politely, and every question is worth an answer.”
+
+“I suppose I am free to say or not to say who I am to two strangers who take a fancy to ask me.”
+
+It was with difficulty that De Guiche restrained the intense desire he had of breaking the monk’s bones.
+
+“In the first place,” he said, making an effort to control himself, “we are not people who may be treated anyhow; my friend there is the Viscount of Bragelonne and I am the Count de Guiche. Nor was it from caprice we asked the question, for there is a wounded and dying man who demands the succor of the church. If you be a priest, I conjure you in the name of humanity to follow me to aid this man; if you be not, it is a different matter, and I warn you in the name of courtesy, of which you appear profoundly ignorant, that I shall chastise you for your insolence.”
+
+The pale face of the monk became so livid and his smile so strange, that Raoul, whose eyes were still fixed upon him, felt as if this smile had struck to his heart like an insult.
+
+“He is some Spanish or Flemish spy,” said he, putting his hand to his pistol. A glance, threatening and transient as lightning, replied to Raoul.
+
+“Well, sir,” said De Guiche, “are you going to reply?”
+
+“I am a priest,” said the young man.
+
+“Then, father,” said Raoul, forcing himself to convey a respect by speech that did not come from his heart, “if you are a priest you have an opportunity, as my friend has told you, of exercising your vocation. At the next inn you will find a wounded man, now being attended by our servants, who has asked the assistance of a minister of God.”
+
+“I will go,” said the monk.
+
+And he touched his mule.
+
+“If you do not go, sir,” said De Guiche, “remember that we have two steeds able to catch your mule and the power of having you seized wherever you may be; and then I swear your trial will be summary; one can always find a tree and a cord.”
+
+The monk’s eye again flashed, but that was all; he merely repeated his phrase, “I will go,” — and he went.
+
+“Let us follow him,” said De Guiche; “it will be the surest plan.”
+
+“I was about to propose so doing,” answered De Bragelonne.
+
+In the space of five minutes the monk turned around to ascertain whether he was followed or not.
+
+“You see,” said Raoul, “we have done wisely.”
+
+“What a horrible face that monk has,” said De Guiche.
+
+“Horrible!” replied Raoul, “especially in expression.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said De Guiche, “a strange face; but these monks are subject to such degrading practices; their fasts make them pale, the blows of the discipline make them hypocrites, and their eyes become inflamed through weeping for the good things of this life we common folk enjoy, but they have lost.”
+
+“Well,” said Raoul, “the poor man will get his priest, but, by Heaven, the penitent appears to me to have a better conscience than the confessor. I confess I am accustomed to priests of a very different appearance.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed De Guiche, “you must understand that this is one of those wandering brothers, who go begging on the high road until some day a benefice falls down from Heaven on them; they are mostly foreigners — Scotch, Irish or Danish. I have seen them before.”
+
+“As ugly?”
+
+“No, but reasonably hideous.”
+
+“What a misfortune for the wounded man to die under the hands of such a friar!”
+
+“Pshaw!” said De Guiche. “Absolution comes not from him who administers it, but from God. However, for my part, I would rather die unshriven than have anything to say to such a confessor. You are of my opinion, are you not, viscount? and I see you playing with the pommel of your sword, as if you had a great inclination to break the holy father’s head.”
+
+“Yes, count, it is a strange thing and one which might astonish you, but I feel an indescribable horror at the sight of yonder man. Have you ever seen a snake rise up on your path?”
+
+“Never,” answered De Guiche.
+
+“Well, it has happened to me to do so in our Blaisois forests, and I remember that the first time I encountered one with its eyes fixed upon me, curled up, swinging its head and pointing its tongue, I remained fixed, pale and as though fascinated, until the moment when the Comte de la Fere — — ”
+
+“Your father?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“No, my guardian,” replied Raoul, blushing.
+
+“Very well — — ”
+
+“Until the moment when the Comte de la Fere,” resumed Raoul, “said, ‘Come, Bragelonne, draw your sword;’ then only I rushed upon the reptile and cut it in two, just at the moment when it was rising on its tail and hissing, ere it sprang upon me. Well, I vow I felt exactly the same sensation at sight of that man when he said, ‘Why do you ask me that?’ and looked so strangely at me.”
+
+“Then you regret that you did not cut your serpent in two morsels?”
+
+“Faith, yes, almost,” said Raoul.
+
+They had now arrived within sight of the little inn and could see on the opposite side the procession bearing the wounded man and guided by Monsieur d’Arminges. The youths spurred on.
+
+“There is the wounded man,” said De Guiche, passing close to the Augustine brother. “Be good enough to hurry yourself a little, monsieur monk.”
+
+As for Raoul, he avoided the monk by the whole width of the road and passed him, turning his head away in repulsion.
+
+The young men rode up to the wounded man to announce that they were followed by the priest. He raised himself to glance in the direction which they pointed out, saw the monk, and fell back upon the litter, his face illumined by joy.
+
+“And now,” said the youths, “we have done all we can for you; and as we are in haste to rejoin the prince’s army we must continue our journey. You will excuse us, sir, but we are told that a battle is expected and we do not wish to arrive the day after it.”
+
+“Go, my young sirs,” said the sick man, “and may you both be blessed for your piety. You have done for me, as you promised, all that you could do. As for me I can only repeat, may God protect you and all dear to you!”
+
+“Sir,” said De Guiche to his tutor, “we will precede you, and you can rejoin us on the road to Cambrin.”
+
+The host was at his door and everything was prepared — bed, bandages, and lint; and a groom had gone to Lens, the nearest village, for a doctor.
+
+“Everything,” said he to Raoul, “shall be done as you desire; but you will not stop to have your wound dressed?”
+
+“Oh, my wound — mine — ’tis nothing,” replied the viscount; “it will be time to think about it when we next halt; only have the goodness, should you see a cavalier who makes inquiries about a young man on a chestnut horse followed by a servant, to tell him, in fact, that you have seen me, but that I have continued my journey and intend to dine at Mazingarbe and to stop at Cambrin. This cavalier is my attendant.”
+
+“Would it not be safer and more certain if I should ask him his name and tell him yours?” demanded the host.
+
+“There is no harm in over-precaution. I am the Viscount de Bragelonne and he is called Grimaud.”
+
+At this moment the wounded man arrived from one direction and the monk from the other, the latter dismounting from his mule and desiring that it should be taken to the stables without being unharnessed.
+
+“Sir monk,” said De Guiche, “confess well that brave man; and be not concerned for your expenses or for those of your mule; all is paid.”
+
+“Thanks, monsieur,” said the monk, with one of those smiles that made Bragelonne shudder.
+
+“Come, count,” said Raoul, who seemed instinctively to dislike the vicinity of the Augustine; “come, I feel ill here,” and the two young men spurred on.
+
+The litter, borne by two servants, now entered the house. The host and his wife were standing on the steps, whilst the unhappy man seemed to suffer dreadful pain and yet to be concerned only to know if he was followed by the monk. At sight of this pale, bleeding man, the wife grasped her husband’s arm.
+
+“Well, what’s the matter?” asked the latter, “are you going to be ill just now?”
+
+“No, but look,” replied the hostess, pointing to the wounded man; “I ask you if you recognize him?”
+
+“That man — wait a bit.”
+
+“Ah! I see you know him,” exclaimed the wife; “for you have become pale in your turn.”
+
+“Truly,” cried the host, “misfortune is coming on our house; it is the former executioner of Bethune.”
+
+“The former executioner of Bethune!” murmured the young monk, shrinking back and showing on his countenance the feeling of repugnance which his penitent inspired.
+
+Monsieur d’Arminges, who was at the door, perceived his hesitation.
+
+“Sir monk,” said he, “whether he is now or has been an executioner, this unfortunate being is none the less a man. Render to him, then, the last service he can by any possibility ask of you, and your work will be all the more meritorious.”
+
+The monk made no reply, but silently wended his way to the room where the two valets had deposited the dying man on a bed. D’Arminges and Olivain and the two grooms then mounted their horses, and all four started off at a quick trot to rejoin Raoul and his companion. Just as the tutor and his escort disappeared in their turn, a new traveler stopped on the threshold of the inn.
+
+“What does your worship want?” demanded the host, pale and trembling from the discovery he had just made.
+
+The traveler made a sign as if he wished to drink, and then pointed to his horse and gesticulated like a man who is brushing something.
+
+“Ah, diable!” said the host to himself; “this man seems dumb. And where will your worship drink?”
+
+“There,” answered the traveler, pointing to the table.
+
+“I was mistaken,” said the host, “he’s not quite dumb. And what else does your worship wish for?”
+
+“To know if you have seen a young man pass, fifteen years of age, mounted on a chestnut horse and followed by a groom?”
+
+“The Viscount de Bragelonne?
+
+“Just so.”
+
+“Then you are called Monsieur Grimaud?”
+
+The traveler made a sign of assent.
+
+“Well, then,” said the host, “your young master was here a quarter of an hour ago; he will dine at Mazingarbe and sleep at Cambrin.”
+
+“How far is Mazingarbe?”
+
+“Two miles and a half.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Grimaud was drinking his wine silently and had just placed his glass on the table to be filled a second time, when a terrific scream resounded from the room occupied by the monk and the dying man. Grimaud sprang up.
+
+“What is that?” said he; “whence comes that cry?”
+
+“From the wounded man’s room,” replied the host.
+
+“What wounded man?”
+
+“The former executioner of Bethune, who has just been brought in here, assassinated by Spaniards, and who is now being confessed by an Augustine friar.”
+
+“The old executioner of Bethune,” muttered Grimaud; “a man between fifty-five and sixty, tall, strong, swarthy, black hair and beard?”
+
+“That is he, except that his beard has turned gray and his hair is white; do you know him?” asked the host.
+
+“I have seen him once,” replied Grimaud, a cloud darkening his countenance at the picture so suddenly summoned to the bar of recollection.
+
+At this instant a second cry, less piercing than the first, but followed by prolonged groaning, was heard.
+
+The three listeners looked at one another in alarm.
+
+“We must see what it is,” said Grimaud.
+
+“It sounds like the cry of one who is being murdered,” murmured the host.
+
+“Mon Dieu!” said the woman, crossing herself.
+
+If Grimaud was slow in speaking, we know that he was quick to act; he sprang to the door and shook it violently, but it was bolted on the other side.
+
+“Open the door!” cried the host; “open it instantly, sir monk!”
+
+No reply.
+
+“Unfasten it, or I will break it in!” said Grimaud.
+
+The same silence, and then, ere the host could oppose his design, Grimaud seized a pair of pincers he perceived in a corner and forced the bolt. The room was inundated with blood, dripping from the mattresses upon which lay the wounded man, speechless; the monk had disappeared.
+
+“The monk!” cried the host; “where is the monk?”
+
+Grimaud sprang toward an open window which looked into the courtyard.
+
+“He has escaped by this means,” exclaimed he.
+
+“Do you think so?” said the host, bewildered; “boy, see if the mule belonging to the monk is still in the stable.”
+
+“There is no mule,” cried he to whom this question was addressed.
+
+The host clasped his hands and looked around him suspiciously, whilst Grimaud knit his brows and approached the wounded man, whose worn, hard features awoke in his mind such awful recollections of the past.
+
+“There can be no longer any doubt but that it is himself,” said he.
+
+“Does he still live?” inquired the innkeeper.
+
+Making no reply, Grimaud opened the poor man’s jacket to feel if the heart beat, whilst the host approached in his turn; but in a moment they both fell back, the host uttering a cry of horror and Grimaud becoming pallid. The blade of a dagger was buried up to the hilt in the left side of the executioner.
+
+“Run! run for help!” cried Grimaud, “and I will remain beside him here.”
+
+The host quitted the room in agitation, and as for his wife, she had fled at the sound of her husband’s cries.
+
+Chapter XXXII. The Absolution.
+
+This is what had taken place: We have seen that it was not of his own free will, but, on the contrary, very reluctantly, that the monk attended the wounded man who had been recommended to him in so strange a manner. Perhaps he would have sought to escape by flight had he seen any possibility of doing so. He was restrained by the threats of the two gentlemen and by the presence of their attendants, who doubtless had received their instructions. And besides, he considered it most expedient, without exhibiting too much ill-will, to follow to the end his role as confessor.
+
+The monk entered the chamber and approached the bed of the wounded man. The executioner searched his face with the quick glance peculiar to those who are about to die and have no time to lose. He made a movement of surprise and said:
+
+“Father, you are very young.”
+
+“Men who bear my robe have no age,” replied the monk, dryly.
+
+“Alas, speak to me more gently, father; in my last moments I need a friend.”
+
+“Do you suffer much?” asked the monk.
+
+“Yes, but in my soul much more than in my body.”
+
+“We will save your soul,” said the young man; “but are you really the executioner of Bethune, as these people say?”
+
+“That is to say,” eagerly replied the wounded man, who doubtless feared that the name of executioner would take from him the last help that he could claim — “that is to say, I was, but am no longer; it is fifteen years since I gave up the office. I still assist at executions, but no longer strike the blow myself — no, indeed.”
+
+“You have, then, a repugnance to your profession?”
+
+“So long as I struck in the name of the law and of justice my profession allowed me to sleep quietly, sheltered as I was by justice and law; but since that terrible night when I became an instrument of private vengeance and when with personal hatred I raised the sword over one of God’s creatures — since that day — — ”
+
+The executioner paused and shook his head with an expression of despair.
+
+“Tell me about it,” said the monk, who, sitting on the foot of the bed, began to be interested in a story so strangely introduced.
+
+“Ah!” cried the dying man, with all the effusiveness of a grief declared after long suppression, “ah! I have sought to stifle remorse by twenty years of good deeds; I have assuaged the natural ferocity of those who shed blood; on every occasion I have exposed my life to save those who were in danger, and I have preserved lives in exchange for that I took away. That is not all; the money gained in the exercise of my profession I have distributed to the poor; I have been assiduous in attending church and those who formerly fled from me have become accustomed to seeing me. All have forgiven me, some have even loved me; but I think that God has not pardoned me, for the memory of that execution pursues me constantly and every night I see that woman’s ghost rising before me.”
+
+“A woman! You have assassinated a woman, then?” cried the monk.
+
+“You also!” exclaimed the executioner, “you use that word which sounds ever in my ears — ‘assassinated!’ I have assassinated, then, and not executed! I am an assassin, then, and not an officer of justice!” and he closed his eyes with a groan.
+
+The monk doubtless feared that he would die without saying more, for he exclaimed eagerly:
+
+“Go on, I know nothing, as yet; when you have finished your story, God and I will judge.”
+
+“Oh, father,” continued the executioner, without opening his eyes, as if he feared on opening them to see some frightful object, “it is especially when night comes on and when I have to cross a river, that this terror which I have been unable to conquer comes upon me; it then seems as if my hand grew heavy, as if the cutlass was still in its grasp, as if the water had the color of blood, and all the voices of nature — the whispering of the trees, the murmur of the wind, the lapping of the wave — united in a voice tearful, despairing, terrible, crying to me, ‘Place for the justice of God!’”
+
+“Delirium!” murmured the monk, shaking his head.
+
+The executioner opened his eyes, turned toward the young man and grasped his arm.
+
+“‘Delirium,’” he repeated; “‘delirium,’ do you say? Oh, no! I remember too well. It was evening; I had thrown the body into the river and those words which my remorse repeats to me are those which I in my pride pronounced. After being the instrument of human justice I aspired to be that of the justice of God.”
+
+“But let me see, how was it done? Speak,” said the monk.
+
+“It was at night. A man came to me and showed me an order and I followed him. Four other noblemen awaited me. They led me away masked. I reserved the right of refusing if the office they required of me should seem unjust. We traveled five or six leagues, serious, silent, and almost without speaking. At length, through the window of a little hut, they showed me a woman sitting, leaning on a table, and said, ‘there is the person to be executed.’”
+
+“Horrible!” said the monk. “And you obeyed?”
+
+“Father, that woman was a monster. It was said that she had poisoned her second husband; she had tried to assassinate her brother-in-law; she had just poisoned a young woman who was her rival, and before leaving England she had, it was believed, caused the favorite of the king to be murdered.”
+
+“Buckingham?” cried the monk.
+
+“Yes, Buckingham.”
+
+“The woman was English, then?”
+
+“No, she was French, but she had married in England.”
+
+The monk turned pale, wiped his brow and went and bolted the door. The executioner thought that he had abandoned him and fell back, groaning, upon his bed.
+
+“No, no; I am here,” said the monk, quickly coming back to him. “Go on; who were those men?”
+
+“One of them was a foreigner, English, I think. The four others were French and wore the uniform of musketeers.”
+
+“Their names?” asked the monk.
+
+“I don’t know them, but the four other noblemen called the Englishman ‘my lord.’”
+
+“Was the woman handsome?”
+
+“Young and beautiful. Oh, yes, especially beautiful. I see her now, as on her knees at my feet, with her head thrown back, she begged for life. I have never understood how I could have laid low a head so beautiful, with a face so pale.”
+
+The monk seemed agitated by a strange emotion; he trembled all over; he seemed eager to put a question which yet he dared not ask. At length, with a violent effort at self-control:
+
+“The name of that woman?” he said.
+
+“I don’t know what it was. As I have said, she was twice married, once in France, the second time in England.”
+
+“She was young, you say?”
+
+“Twenty-five years old.”
+
+“Beautiful?”
+
+“Ravishingly.”
+
+“Blond?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Abundance of hair — falling over her shoulders?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Eyes of an admirable expression?”
+
+“When she chose. Oh, yes, it is she!”
+
+“A voice of strange sweetness?”
+
+“How do you know it?”
+
+The executioner raised himself on his elbow and gazed with a frightened air at the monk, who became livid.
+
+“And you killed her?” the monk exclaimed. “You were the tool of those cowards who dared not kill her themselves? You had no pity for that youthfulness, that beauty, that weakness? you killed that woman?”
+
+“Alas! I have already told you, father, that woman, under that angelic appearance, had an infernal soul, and when I saw her, when I recalled all the evil she had done to me — — ”
+
+“To you? What could she have done to you? Come, tell me!”
+
+“She had seduced and ruined my brother, a priest. She had fled with him from her convent.”
+
+“With your brother?”
+
+“Yes, my brother was her first lover, and she caused his death. Oh, father, do not look in that way at me! Oh, I am guilty, then; you will not pardon me?”
+
+The monk recovered his usual expression.
+
+“Yes, yes,” he said, “I will pardon you if you tell me all.”
+
+“Oh!” cried the executioner, “all! all! all!”
+
+“Answer, then. If she seduced your brother — you said she seduced him, did you not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“If she caused his death — you said that she caused his death?”
+
+“Yes,” repeated the executioner.
+
+“Then you must know what her name was as a young girl.”
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu!” cried the executioner, “I think I am dying. Absolution, father! absolution.”
+
+“Tell me her name and I will give it.”
+
+“Her name was — — My God, have pity on me!” murmured the executioner; and he fell back on the bed, pale, trembling, and apparently about to die.
+
+“Her name!” repeated the monk, bending over him as if to tear from him the name if he would not utter it; “her name! Speak, or no absolution!”
+
+The dying man collected all his forces.
+
+The monk’s eyes glittered.
+
+“Anne de Bueil,” murmured the wounded man.
+
+“Anne de Bueil!” cried the monk, standing up and lifting his hands to Heaven. “Anne de Bueil! You said Anne de Bueil, did you not?”
+
+“Yes, yes, that was her name; and now absolve me, for I am dying.”
+
+“I, absolve you!” cried the priest, with a laugh which made the dying man’s hair stand on end; “I, absolve you? I am not a priest.”
+
+“You are not a priest!” cried the executioner. “What, then, are you?”
+
+“I am about to tell you, wretched man.”
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu!”
+
+“I am John Francis de Winter.”
+
+“I do not know you,” said the executioner.
+
+“Wait, wait; you are going to know me. I am John Francis de Winter,” he repeated, “and that woman — — ”
+
+“Well, that woman?”
+
+“Was my mother!”
+
+The executioner uttered the first cry, that terrible cry which had been first heard.
+
+“Oh, pardon me, pardon me!” he murmured; “if not in the name of God, at least in your own name; if not as priest, then as son.”
+
+“Pardon you!” cried the pretended monk, “pardon you! Perhaps God will pardon you, but I, never!”
+
+“For pity’s sake,” said the executioner, extending his arms.
+
+“No pity for him who had no pity! Die, impenitent, die in despair, die and be damned!” And drawing a poniard from beneath his robe he thrust it into the breast of the wounded man, saying, “Here is my absolution!”
+
+Then was heard that second cry, not so loud as the first and followed by a long groan.
+
+The executioner, who had lifted himself up, fell back upon his bed. As to the monk, without withdrawing the poniard from the wound, he ran to the window, opened it, leaped out into the flowers of a small garden, glided onward to the stable, took out his mule, went out by a back gate, ran to a neighbouring thicket, threw off his monkish garb, took from his valise the complete habiliment of a cavalier, clothed himself in it, went on foot to the first post, secured there a horse and continued with a loose rein his journey to Paris.
+
+Chapter XXXIII. Grimaud Speaks.
+
+Grimaud was left alone with the executioner, who in a few moments opened his eyes.
+
+“Help, help,” he murmured; “oh, God! have I not a single friend in the world who will aid me either to live or to die?”
+
+“Take courage,” said Grimaud; “they are gone to find assistance.”
+
+“Who are you?” asked the wounded man, fixing his half opened eyes on Grimaud.
+
+“An old acquaintance,” replied Grimaud.
+
+“You?” and the wounded man sought to recall the features of the person now before him.
+
+“Under what circumstances did we meet?” he asked again.
+
+“One night, twenty years ago, my master fetched you from Bethune and conducted you to Armentieres.”
+
+“I know you well now,” said the executioner; “you were one of the four grooms.”
+
+“Just so.”
+
+“Where do you come from now?”
+
+“I was passing by and drew up at this inn to rest my horse. They told me the executioner of Bethune was here and wounded, when you uttered two piercing cries. At the first we ran to the door and at the second forced it open.”
+
+“And the monk?” exclaimed the executioner, “did you see the monk?”
+
+“What monk?”
+
+“The monk that was shut in with me.”
+
+“No, he was no longer here; he appears to have fled by the window. Was he the man that stabbed you?”
+
+“Yes,” said the executioner.
+
+Grimaud moved as if to leave the room.
+
+“What are you going to do?” asked the wounded man.
+
+“He must be apprehended.”
+
+“Do not attempt it; he has revenged himself and has done well. Now I may hope that God will forgive me, since my crime is expiated.”
+
+“Explain yourself.” said Grimaud.
+
+“The woman whom you and your masters commanded me to kill — — ”
+
+“Milady?”
+
+“Yes, Milady; it is true you called her thus.”
+
+“What has the monk to do with this Milady?”
+
+“She was his mother.”
+
+Grimaud trembled and stared at the dying man in a dull and leaden manner.
+
+“His mother!” he repeated.
+
+“Yes, his mother.”
+
+“But does he know this secret, then?”
+
+“I mistook him for a monk and revealed it to him in confession.”
+
+“Unhappy man!” cried Grimaud, whose face was covered with sweat at the bare idea of the evil results such a revelation might cause; “unhappy man, you named no one, I hope?”
+
+“I pronounced no name, for I knew none, except his mother’s, as a young girl, and it was by this name that he recognized her, but he knows that his uncle was among her judges.”
+
+Thus speaking, he fell back exhausted. Grimaud, wishing to relieve him, advanced his hand toward the hilt of the dagger.
+
+“Touch me not!” said the executioner; “if this dagger is withdrawn I shall die.”
+
+Grimaud remained with his hand extended; then, striking his forehead, he exclaimed:
+
+“Oh! if this man should ever discover the names of the others, my master is lost.”
+
+“Haste! haste to him and warn him,” cried the wounded man, “if he still lives; warn his friends, too. My death, believe me, will not be the end of this atrocious misadventure.”
+
+“Where was the monk going?” asked Grimaud.
+
+“Toward Paris.”
+
+“Who stopped him?”
+
+“Two young gentlemen, who were on their way to join the army and the name of one of whom I heard his companion mention — the Viscount de Bragelonne.”
+
+“And it was this young man who brought the monk to you? Then it was the will of God that it should be so and this it is which makes it all so awful,” continued Grimaud. “And yet that woman deserved her fate; do you not think so?”
+
+“On one’s death-bed the crimes of others appear very small in comparison with one’s own,” said the executioner; and falling back exhausted he closed his eyes.
+
+Grimaud was reluctant to leave the man alone and yet he perceived the necessity of starting at once to bear these tidings to the Comte de la Fere. Whilst he thus hesitated the host re-entered the room, followed not only by a surgeon, but by many other persons, whom curiosity had attracted to the spot. The surgeon approached the dying man, who seemed to have fainted.
+
+“We must first extract the steel from the side,” said he, shaking his head in a significant manner.
+
+The prophecy which the wounded man had just uttered recurred to Grimaud, who turned away his head. The weapon, as we have already stated, was plunged into the body to the hilt, and as the surgeon, taking it by the end, drew it forth, the wounded man opened his eyes and fixed them on him in a manner truly frightful. When at last the blade had been entirely withdrawn, a red froth issued from the mouth of the wounded man and a stream of blood spouted afresh from the wound when he at length drew breath; then, fixing his eyes upon Grimaud with a singular expression, the dying man uttered the last death-rattle and expired.
+
+Then Grimaud, lifting the dagger from the pool of blood which was gliding along the room, to the horror of all present, made a sign to the host to follow him, paid him with a generosity worthy of his master and again mounted his horse. Grimaud’s first intention had been to return to Paris, but he remembered the anxiety which his prolonged absence might occasion Raoul, and reflecting that there were now only two miles between the vicomte and himself and a quarter of an hour’s riding would unite them, and that the going, returning and explanation would not occupy an hour, he put spurs to his horse and a few minutes after had reached the only inn of Mazingarbe.
+
+Raoul was seated at table with the Count de Guiche and his tutor, when all at once the door opened and Grimaud presented himself, travel-stained, dirty, and sprinkled with the blood of the unhappy executioner.
+
+“Grimaud, my good Grimaud!” exclaimed Raoul “here you are at last! Excuse me, sirs, this is not a servant, but a friend. How did you leave the count?” continued he. “Does he regret me a little? Have you seen him since I left him? Answer, for I have many things to tell you, too; indeed, the last three days some odd adventures have happened — but what is the matter? how pale you are! and blood, too! What is this?”
+
+“It is the blood of the unfortunate man whom you left at the inn and who died in my arms.”
+
+“In your arms? — that man! but know you who he was?”
+
+“He used to be the headsman of Bethune.”
+
+“You knew him? and he is dead?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, sir,” said D’Arminges, “it is the common lot; even an executioner is not exempted. I had a bad opinion of him the moment I saw his wound, and since he asked for a monk you know that it was his opinion, too, that death would follow.”
+
+At the mention of the monk, Grimaud became pale.
+
+“Come, come,” continued D’Arminges, “to dinner;” for like most men of his age and generation he did not allow sentiment or sensibility to interfere with a repast.
+
+“You are right, sir,” said Raoul. “Come, Grimaud, order dinner for yourself and when you have rested a little we can talk.”
+
+“No, sir, no,” said Grimaud. “I cannot stop a moment; I must start for Paris again immediately.”
+
+“What? You start for Paris? You are mistaken; it is Olivain who leaves me; you are to remain.”
+
+“On the contrary, Olivain is to stay and I am to go. I have come for nothing else but to tell you so.”
+
+“But what is the meaning of this change?”
+
+“I cannot tell you.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“I cannot explain myself.”
+
+“Come, tell me, what is the joke?”
+
+“Monsieur le vicomte knows that I never joke.”
+
+“Yes, but I know also that Monsieur le Comte de la Fere arranged that you were to remain with me and that Olivain should return to Paris. I shall follow the count’s directions.”
+
+“Not under present circumstances, monsieur.”
+
+“Perhaps you mean to disobey me?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur, I must.”
+
+“You persist, then?”
+
+“Yes, I am going; may you be happy, monsieur,” and Grimaud saluted and turned toward the door to go out.
+
+Raoul, angry and at the same time uneasy, ran after him and seized him by the arm. “Grimaud!” he cried; “remain; I wish it.”
+
+“Then,” replied Grimaud, “you wish me to allow monsieur le comte to be killed.” He saluted and made a movement to depart.
+
+“Grimaud, my friend,” said the viscount, “will you leave me thus, in such anxiety? Speak, speak, in Heaven’s name!” And Raoul fell back trembling upon his chair.
+
+“I can tell you but one thing, sir, for the secret you wish to know is not my own. You met a monk, did you not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+The young men looked at each other with an expression of fear.
+
+“You conducted him to the wounded man and you had time to observe him, and perhaps you would know him again were you to meet him.”
+
+“Yes, yes!” cried both young men.
+
+“Very well; if ever you meet him again, wherever it may be, whether on the high road or in the street or in a church, anywhere that he or you may be, put your foot on his neck and crush him without pity, without mercy, as you would crush a viper or a scorpion! destroy him utterly and quit him not until he is dead; the lives of five men are not safe, in my opinion, as long as he is on the earth.”
+
+And without adding another word, Grimaud, profiting by the astonishment and terror into which he had thrown his auditors, rushed from the room. Two minutes later the thunder of a horse’s hoofs was heard upon the road; it was Grimaud, on his way to Paris. When once in the saddle Grimaud reflected on two things; first, that at the pace he was going his horse would not carry him ten miles, and secondly, that he had no money. But Grimaud’s ingenuity was more prolific than his speech, and therefore at the first halt he sold his steed and with the money obtained from the purchase took post horses.
+
+Chapter XXXIV. On the Eve of Battle.
+
+Raoul was aroused from his sombre reflections by his host, who rushed into the apartment crying out, “The Spaniards! the Spaniards!”
+
+That cry was of such importance as to overcome all preoccupation. The young men made inquiries and ascertained that the enemy was advancing by way of Houdin and Bethune.
+
+While Monsieur d’Arminges gave orders for the horses to be made ready for departure, the two young men ascended to the upper windows of the house and saw in the direction of Marsin and of Lens a large body of infantry and cavalry. This time it was not a wandering troop of partisans; it was an entire army. There was therefore nothing for them to do but to follow the prudent advice of Monsieur d’Arminges and beat a retreat. They quickly went downstairs. Monsieur d’Arminges was already mounted. Olivain had ready the horses of the young men, and the lackeys of the Count de Guiche guarded carefully between them the Spanish prisoner, mounted on a pony which had been bought for his use. As a further precaution they had bound his hands.
+
+The little company started off at a trot on the road to Cambrin, where they expected to find the prince. But he was no longer there, having withdrawn on the previous evening to La Bassee, misled by false intelligence of the enemy’s movements. Deceived by this intelligence he had concentrated his forces between Vieille-Chapelle and La Venthie; and after a reconnoissance along the entire line, in company with Marshal de Grammont, he had returned and seated himself before a table, with his officers around him. He questioned them as to the news they had each been charged to obtain, but nothing positive had been learned. The hostile army had disappeared two days before and seemed to have gone out of existence.
+
+Now an enemy is never so near and consequently so threatening, as when he has completely disappeared. The prince was, therefore, contrary to his custom, gloomy and anxious, when an officer entered and announced to Marshal de Grammont that some one wished to see him.
+
+The Duc de Grammont received permission from the prince by a glance and went out. The prince followed him with his eyes and continued looking at the door; no one ventured to speak, for fear of disturbing him.
+
+Suddenly a dull and heavy noise was heard. The prince leaped to his feet, extending his hand in the direction whence came the sound, there was no mistaking it — it was the noise of cannon. Every one stood up.
+
+At that moment the door opened.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said Marshal de Grammont, with a radiant face, “will your highness permit my son, Count de Guiche, and his traveling companion, Viscount de Bragelonne, to come in and give news of the enemy, whom they have found while we were looking for him?”
+
+“What!” eagerly replied the prince, “will I permit? I not only permit, I desire; let them come in.”
+
+The marshal introduced the two young men and placed them face to face with the prince.
+
+“Speak, gentlemen,” said the prince, saluting them; “first speak; we shall have time afterward for the usual compliments. The most urgent thing now is to learn where the enemy is and what he is doing.”
+
+It fell naturally to the Count de Guiche to make reply; not only was he the elder, but he had been presented to the prince by his father. Besides, he had long known the prince, whilst Raoul now saw him for the first time. He therefore narrated to the prince what they had seen from the inn at Mazingarbe.
+
+Meanwhile Raoul closely observed the young general, already made so famous by the battles of Rocroy, Fribourg, and Nordlingen.
+
+Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, who, since the death of his father, Henri de Bourbon, was called, in accordance with the custom of that period, Monsieur le Prince, was a young man, not more than twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, with the eye of an eagle — agl’ occhi grifani, as Dante says — aquiline nose, long, waving hair, of medium height, well formed, possessed of all the qualities essential to the successful soldier — that is to say, the rapid glance, quick decision, fabulous courage. At the same time he was a man of elegant manners and strong mind, so that in addition to the revolution he had made in war, by his new contributions to its methods, he had also made a revolution at Paris, among the young noblemen of the court, whose natural chief he was and who, in distinction from the social leaders of the ancient court, modeled after Bassompierre, Bellegarde and the Duke d’Angouleme, were called the petits-maitres.
+
+At the first words of the Count de Guiche, the prince, having in mind the direction whence came the sound of cannon, had understood everything. The enemy was marching upon Lens, with the intention, doubtless, of securing possession of that town and separating from France the army of France. But in what force was the enemy? Was it a corps sent out to make a diversion? Was it an entire army? To this question De Guiche could not respond.
+
+Now, as these questions involved matters of gravest consequence, it was these to which the prince had especially desired an answer, exact, precise, positive.
+
+Raoul conquered the very natural feeling of timidity he experienced and approaching the prince:
+
+“My lord,” he said, “will you permit me to hazard a few words on that subject, which will perhaps relieve you of your uncertainty?”
+
+The prince turned and seemed to cover the young man with a single glance; he smiled on perceiving that he was a child hardly fifteen years old.
+
+“Certainly, monsieur, speak,” he said, softening his stern, accented tones, as if he were speaking to a woman.
+
+“My lord,” said Raoul, blushing, “might examine the Spanish prisoner.”
+
+“Have you a Spanish prisoner?” cried the prince.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Ah, that is true,” said De Guiche; “I had forgotten it.”
+
+“That is easily understood; it was you who took him, count,” said Raoul, smiling.
+
+The old marshal turned toward the viscount, grateful for that praise of his son, whilst the prince exclaimed:
+
+“The young man is right; let the prisoner be brought in.”
+
+Meanwhile the prince took De Guiche aside and asked him how the prisoner had been taken and who this young man was.
+
+“Monsieur,” said the prince, turning toward Raoul, “I know that you have a letter from my sister, Madame de Longueville; but I see that you have preferred commending yourself to me by giving me good counsel.”
+
+“My lord,” said Raoul, coloring up, “I did not wish to interrupt your highness in a conversation so important as that in which you were engaged with the count. But here is the letter.”
+
+“Very well,” said the prince; “give it to me later. Here is the prisoner; let us attend to what is most pressing.”
+
+The prisoner was one of those military adventurers who sold their blood to whoever would buy, and grew old in stratagems and spoils. Since he had been taken he had not uttered a word, so that it was not known to what country he belonged. The prince looked at him with unspeakable distrust.
+
+“Of what country are you?” asked the prince.
+
+The prisoner muttered a few words in a foreign tongue.
+
+“Ah! ah! it seems that he is a Spaniard. Do you speak Spanish, Grammont?”
+
+“Faith, my lord, but indifferently.”
+
+“And I not at all,” said the prince, laughing. “Gentlemen,” he said, turning to those who were near him “can any one of you speak Spanish and serve me as interpreter?”
+
+“I can, my lord,” said Raoul.
+
+“Ah, you speak Spanish?”
+
+“Enough, I think, to fulfill your highness’s wishes on this occasion.”
+
+Meanwhile the prisoner had remained impassive and as if he had no understanding of what was taking place.
+
+“My lord asks of what country you are,” said the young man, in the purest Castilian.
+
+“Ich bin ein Deutscher,” replied the prisoner.
+
+“What in the devil does he say?” asked the prince. “What new gibberish is that?”
+
+“He says he is German, my lord,” replied Raoul; “but I doubt it, for his accent is bad and his pronunciation defective.”
+
+“Then you speak German, also?” asked the prince.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Well enough to question him in that language?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Question him, then.”
+
+Raoul began the examination, but the result justified his opinion. The prisoner did not understand, or seemed not to understand, what Raoul said to him; and Raoul could hardly understand his replies, containing a mixture of Flemish and Alsatian. However, amidst all the prisoner’s efforts to elude a systematic examination, Raoul had recognized his natural accent.
+
+“Non siete Spagnuolo,” he said; “non siete Tedesco; siete Italiano.”
+
+The prisoner started and bit his lips.
+
+“Ah, that,” said the prince, “I understand that language thoroughly; and since he is Italian I will myself continue the examination. Thank you, viscount,” continued the prince, laughing, “and I appoint you from this moment my interpreter.”
+
+But the prisoner was not less unwilling to respond in Italian than in the other languages; his aim was to elude the examination. Therefore, he knew nothing either of the enemy’s numbers, or of those in command, or of the purpose of the army.
+
+“Very good,” said the prince, understanding the reason of that ignorance; “the man was caught in the act of assassination and robbery; he might have purchased his life by speaking; he doesn’t wish to speak. Take him out and shoot him.”
+
+The prisoner turned pale. The two soldiers who had brought him in took him, each by one arm, and led him toward the door, whilst the prince, turning to Marshal de Grammont, seemed to have already forgotten the order he had given.
+
+When he reached the threshold of the door the prisoner stopped. The soldiers, who knew only their orders, attempted to force him along.
+
+“One moment,” said the prisoner, in French. “I am ready to speak, my lord.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the prince, laughing, “I thought we should come to that. I have a sure method of limbering tongues. Young men, take advantage of it against the time when you may be in command.”
+
+“But on condition,” continued the prisoner, “that your highness will swear that my life shall be safe.”
+
+“Upon my honor,” said the prince.
+
+“Question, then, my lord.”
+
+“Where did the army cross the Lys?”
+
+“Between Saint-Venant and Aire.”
+
+“By whom is it commanded?”
+
+“By Count de Fuonsaldagna, General Beck and the archduke.”
+
+“Of how many does it consist?”
+
+“Eighteen thousand men and thirty-six cannon.”
+
+“And its aim is?”
+
+“Lens.”
+
+“You see; gentlemen!” said the prince, turning with a triumphant air toward Marshal de Grammont and the other officers.
+
+“Yes, my lord,” said the marshal, “you have divined all that was possible to human genius.”
+
+“Recall Le Plessis, Bellievre, Villequier and D’Erlac,” said the prince, “recall all the troops that are on this side of the Lys. Let them hold themselves in readiness to march to-night. To-morrow, according to all probability, we shall attack the enemy.”
+
+“But, my lord,” said Marshal de Grammont, “consider that when we have collected all our forces we shall have hardly thirteen thousand men.”
+
+“Monsieur le marechal,” said the prince, with that wonderful glance that was peculiar to him, “it is with small armies that great battles are won.”
+
+Then turning toward the prisoner, “Take away that man,” he said, “and keep him carefully in sight. His life is dependent on the information he has given us; if it is true, he shall be free; if false, let him be shot.”
+
+The prisoner was led away.
+
+“Count de Guiche,” said the prince, “it is a long time since you saw your father, remain here with him. Monsieur,” he continued, addressing Raoul, “if you are not too tired, follow me.”
+
+“To the end of the world, my lord!” cried Raoul, feeling an unknown enthusiasm for that young general, who seemed to him so worthy of his renown.
+
+The prince smiled; he despised flatterers, but he appreciated enthusiasts.
+
+“Come, monsieur,” he said, “you are good in council, as we have already discovered; to-morrow we shall know if you are good in action.”
+
+“And I,” said the marshal, “what am I to do?”
+
+“Wait here to receive the troops. I shall either return for them myself or shall send a courier directing you to bring them to me. Twenty guards, well mounted, are all that I shall need for my escort.”
+
+“That is very few,” said the marshal.
+
+“It is enough,” replied the prince. “Have you a good horse, Monsieur de Bragelonne?”
+
+“My horse was killed this morning, my lord, and I am mounted provisionally on my lackey’s.”
+
+“Choose for yourself in my stables the horse you like best. No false modesty; take the best horse you can find. You will need it this evening, perhaps; you will certainly need it to-morrow.”
+
+Raoul didn’t wait to be told twice; he knew that with superiors, especially when those superiors are princes, the highest politeness is to obey without delay or argument; he went down to the stables, picked out a pie-bald Andalusian horse, saddled and bridled it himself, for Athos had advised him to trust no one with those important offices at a time of danger, and went to rejoin the prince, who at that moment mounted his horse.
+
+“Now, monsieur,” he said to Raoul, “will you give me the letter you have brought?”
+
+Raoul handed the letter to the prince.
+
+“Keep near me,” said the latter.
+
+The prince threw his bridle over the pommel of the saddle, as he was wont to do when he wished to have both hands free, unsealed the letter of Madame de Longueville and started at a gallop on the road to Lens, attended by Raoul and his small escort, whilst messengers sent to recall the troops set out with a loose rein in other directions. The prince read as he hastened on.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said, after a moment, “they tell me great things of you. I have only to say, after the little that I have seen and heard, that I think even better of you than I have been told.”
+
+Raoul bowed.
+
+Meanwhile, as the little troop drew nearer to Lens, the noise of the cannon sounded louder. The prince kept his gaze fixed in the direction of the sound with the steadfastness of a bird of prey. One would have said that his gaze could pierce the branches of trees which limited his horizon. From time to time his nostrils dilated as if eager for the smell of powder, and he panted like a horse.
+
+At length they heard the cannon so near that it was evident they were within a league of the field of battle, and at a turn of the road they perceived the little village of Aunay.
+
+The peasants were in great commotion. The report of Spanish cruelty had gone out and every one was frightened. The women had already fled, taking refuge in Vitry; only a few men remained. On seeing the prince they hastened to meet him. One of them recognized him.
+
+“Ah, my lord,” he said, “have you come to drive away those rascal Spaniards and those Lorraine robbers?”
+
+“Yes,” said the prince, “if you will serve me as guide.”
+
+“Willingly, my lord. Where does your highness wish to go?”
+
+“To some elevated spot whence I can look down on Lens and the surrounding country — — ”
+
+“In that case, I’m your man.”
+
+“I can trust you — you are a true Frenchman?”
+
+“I am an old soldier of Rocroy, my lord.”
+
+“Here,” said the prince, handing him a purse, “here is for Rocroy. Now, do you want a horse, or will you go afoot?”
+
+“Afoot, my lord; I have served always in the infantry. Besides, I expect to lead your highness into places where you will have to walk.”
+
+“Come, then,” said the prince; “let us lose no time.”
+
+The peasant started off, running before the prince’s horse; then, a hundred steps from the village, he took a narrow road hidden at the bottom of the valley. For a half league they proceeded thus, the cannon-shot sounding so near that they expected at each discharge to hear the hum of the balls. At length they entered a path which, going out from the road, skirted the mountainside. The prince dismounted, ordered one of his aids and Raoul to follow his example, and directed the others to await his orders, keeping themselves meanwhile on the alert. He then began to ascend the path.
+
+In about ten minutes they reached the ruins of an old chateau; those ruins crowned the summit of a hill which overlooked the surrounding country. At a distance of hardly a quarter of a league they looked down on Lens, at bay, and before Lens the enemy’s entire army.
+
+With a single glance the prince took in the extent of country that lay before him, from Lens as far as Vimy. In a moment the plan of the battle which on the following day was to save France the second time from invasion was unrolled in his mind. He took a pencil, tore a page from his tablets and wrote:
+
+“My Dear Marshal, — In an hour Lens will be in the enemy’s possession. Come and rejoin me; bring with you the whole army. I shall be at Vendin to place it in position. To-morrow we shall retake Lens and beat the enemy.”
+
+Then, turning toward Raoul: “Go, monsieur,” he said; “ride fast and give this letter to Monsieur de Grammont.”
+
+Raoul bowed, took the letter, went hastily down the mountain, leaped on his horse and set out at a gallop. A quarter of an hour later he was with the marshal.
+
+A portion of the troops had already arrived and the remainder was expected from moment to moment. Marshal de Grammont put himself at the head of all the available cavalry and infantry and took the road to Vendin, leaving the Duc de Chatillon to await and bring on the rest. All the artillery was ready to move, and started off at a moment’s notice.
+
+It was seven o’clock in the evening when the marshal arrived at the appointed place. The prince awaited him there. As he had foreseen, Lens had fallen into the hands of the enemy immediately after Raoul’s departure. The event was announced by the cessation of the firing.
+
+As the shadows of night deepened the troops summoned by the prince arrived in successive detachments. Orders were given that no drum should be beaten, no trumpet sounded.
+
+At nine o’clock the night had fully come. Still a last ray of twilight lighted the plain. The army marched silently, the prince at the head of the column. Presently the army came in sight of Lens; two or three houses were in flames and a dull noise was heard which indicated what suffering was endured by a town taken by assault.
+
+The prince assigned to every one his post. Marshal de Grammont was to hold the extreme left, resting on Mericourt. The Duc de Chatillon commanded the centre. Finally, the prince led the right wing, resting on Aunay. The order of battle on the morrow was to be that of the positions taken in the evening. Each one, on awaking, would find himself on the field of battle.
+
+The movement was executed in silence and with precision. At ten o’clock every one was in his appointed position; at half-past ten the prince visited the posts and gave his final orders for the following day.
+
+Three things were especially urged upon the officers, who were to see that the soldiers observed them scrupulously: the first, that the different corps should so march that cavalry and infantry should be on the same line and that each body should protect its gaps; the second, to go to the charge no faster than a walk; the third, to let the enemy fire first.
+
+The prince assigned the Count de Guiche to his father and kept Bragelonne near his own person; but the two young men sought the privilege of passing the night together and it was accorded them. A tent was erected for them near that of the marshal.
+
+Although the day had been fatiguing, neither of them was inclined to sleep. And besides, even for old soldiers the evening before a battle is a serious time; it was so with greater reason to two young men who were about to witness for the first time that terrible spectacle. On the evening before a battle one thinks of a thousand things forgotten till then; those who are indifferent to one another become friends and those who are friends become brothers. It need not be said that if in the depths of the heart there is a sentiment more tender, it reaches then, quite naturally, the highest exaltation of which it is capable. Some sentiment of this kind must have been cherished by each one of these two friends, for each of them almost immediately sat down by himself at an end of the tent and began to write.
+
+The letters were long — the four pages were covered with closely written words. The writers sometimes looked up at each other and smiled; they understood without speaking, their organizations were so delicate and sympathetic. The letters being finished, each put his own into two envelopes, so that no one, without tearing the first envelope, could discover to whom the second was addressed; then they drew near to each other and smilingly exchanged their letters.
+
+“In case any evil should happen to me,” said Bragelonne.
+
+“In case I should be killed,” said De Guiche.
+
+They then embraced each other like two brothers, and each wrapping himself in his cloak they soon passed into that kindly sleep of youth which is the prerogative of birds, flowers and infants.
+
+Chapter XXXV. A Dinner in the Old Style.
+
+The second interview between the former musketeers was not so formal and threatening as the first. Athos, with his superior understanding, wisely deemed that the supper table would be the most complete and satisfactory point of reunion, and at the moment when his friends, in deference to his deportment and sobriety, dared scarcely speak of some of their former good dinners, he was the first to propose that they should all assemble around some well spread table and abandon themselves unreservedly to their own natural character and manners — a freedom which had formerly contributed so much to that good understanding between them which gave them the name of the inseparables. For different reasons this was an agreeable proposition to them all, and it was therefore agreed that each should leave a very exact address and that upon the request of any of the associates a meeting should be convoked at a famous eating house in the Rue de la Monnaie, of the sign of the Hermitage. The first rendezvous was fixed for the following Wednesday, at eight o’clock in the evening precisely.
+
+On that day, in fact, the four friends arrived punctually at the hour, each from his own abode or occupation. Porthos had been trying a new horse; D’Artagnan was on guard at the Louvre; Aramis had been to visit one of his penitents in the neighborhood; and Athos, whose domicile was established in the Rue Guenegaud, found himself close at hand. They were, therefore, somewhat surprised to meet altogether at the door of the Hermitage, Athos starting out from the Pont Neuf, Porthos by the Rue de la Roule, D’Artagnan by the Rue des Fosse Saint Germain l’Auxerrois, and Aramis by the Rue de Bethisy.
+
+The first words exchanged between the four friends, on account of the ceremony which each of them mingled with their demonstration, were somewhat forced and even the repast began with a kind of stiffness. Athos perceived this embarrassment, and by way of supplying an effectual remedy, called for four bottles of champagne.
+
+At this order, given in Athos’s habitually calm manner, the face of the Gascon relaxed and Porthos’s brow grew smooth. Aramis was astonished. He knew that Athos not only never drank, but more, that he had a kind of repugnance to wine. This astonishment was doubled when Aramis saw Athos fill a bumper and toss it off with all his former enthusiasm. His companions followed his example. In a very few minutes the four bottles were empty and this excellent specific succeeded in dissipating even the slightest cloud that might have rested on their spirits. Now the four friends began to speak loud, scarcely waiting till one had finished before another began, and each assumed his favorite attitude on or at the table. Soon — strange fact — Aramis undid two buttons of his doublet, seeing which, Porthos unfastened his entirely.
+
+Battles, long journeys, blows given and received, sufficed for the first themes of conversation, which turned upon the silent struggles sustained against him who was now called the great cardinal.
+
+“Faith,” said Aramis, laughing, “we have praised the dead enough, let us revile the living a little; I should like to say something evil of Mazarin; is it permissible?”
+
+“Go on, go on,” replied D’Artagnan, laughing heartily; “relate your story and I will applaud it if it is a good one.”
+
+“A great prince,” said Aramis, “with whom Mazarin sought an alliance, was invited by him to send him a list of the conditions on which he would do him the honor to negotiate with him. The prince, who had a great repugnance to treat with such an ill-bred fellow, made out a list, against the grain, and sent it. In this list there were three conditions which displeased Mazarin and he offered the prince ten thousand crowns to renounce them.”
+
+“Ah, ha, ha!” laughed the three friends, “not a bad bargain; and there was no fear of being taken at his word; what did the prince do then?”
+
+“The prince immediately sent fifty thousand francs to Mazarin, begging him never to write to him again, and offered twenty thousand francs more, on condition that he would never speak to him. What did Mazarin do?”
+
+“Stormed!” suggested Athos.
+
+“Beat the messenger!” cried Porthos.
+
+“Accepted the money!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“You have guessed it,” answered Aramis; and they all laughed so heartily that the host appeared in order to inquire whether the gentlemen wanted anything; he thought they were fighting.
+
+At last their hilarity calmed down and:
+
+“Faith!” exclaimed D’Artagnan to the two friends, “you may well wish ill to Mazarin; for I assure you, on his side he wishes you no good.”
+
+“Pooh! really?” asked Athos. “If I thought the fellow knew me by my name I would be rebaptized, for fear it might be thought I knew him.”
+
+“He knows you better by your actions than your name; he is quite aware that there are two gentlemen who greatly aided the escape of Monsieur de Beaufort, and he has instigated an active search for them, I can answer for it.”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By me; and this morning he sent for me to ask me if I had obtained any information.”
+
+“And what did you reply?”
+
+“That I had none as yet; but that I was to dine to-day with two gentlemen, who would be able to give me some.”
+
+“You told him that?” said Porthos, a broad smile spreading over his honest face. “Bravo! and you are not afraid of that, Athos?”
+
+“No,” replied Athos, “it is not the search of Mazarin that I fear.”
+
+“Now,” said Aramis, “tell me a little what you do fear.”
+
+“Nothing for the present; at least, nothing in good earnest.”
+
+“And with regard to the past?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Oh! the past is another thing,” said Athos, sighing; “the past and the future.”
+
+“Are you afraid for your young Raoul?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Well,” said D’Artagnan, “one is never killed in a first engagement.”
+
+“Nor in the second,” said Aramis
+
+“Nor in the third,” returned Porthos; “and even when one is killed, one rises again, the proof of which is, that here we are!”
+
+“No,” said Athos, “it is not Raoul about whom I am anxious, for I trust he will conduct himself like a gentleman; and if he is killed — well, he will die bravely; but hold — should such a misfortune happen — well — ” Athos passed his hand across his pale brow.
+
+“Well?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Well, I shall look upon it as an expiation.”
+
+“Ah!” said D’Artagnan; “I know what you mean.”
+
+“And I, too,” added Aramis; “but you must not think of that, Athos; what is past, is past.”
+
+“I don’t understand,” said Porthos.
+
+“The affair at Armentieres,” whispered D’Artagnan.
+
+“The affair at Armentieres?” asked he again.
+
+“Milady.”
+
+“Oh, yes!” said Porthos; “true, I had forgotten it!”
+
+Athos looked at him intently.
+
+“You have forgotten it, Porthos?” said he.
+
+“Faith! yes, it is so long ago,” answered Porthos.
+
+“This affair does not, then, weigh upon your conscience?”
+
+“Faith, no.”
+
+“And you, D’Artagnan?”
+
+“I — I own that when my mind returns to that terrible period I have no recollection of anything but the rigid corpse of poor Madame Bonancieux. Yes, yes,” murmured he, “I have often felt regret for the victim, but never the very slightest remorse for the assassin.”
+
+Athos shook his dead doubtfully.
+
+“Consider,” said Aramis, “if you admit divine justice and its participation in the things of this world, that woman was punished by the will of heaven. We were but the instruments, that is all.”
+
+“But as to free will, Aramis?”
+
+“How acts the judge? He has a free will, yet he fearlessly condemns. What does the executioner? He is master of his arm, yet he strikes without remorse.”
+
+“The executioner!” muttered Athos, as if arrested by some recollection.
+
+“I know that it is terrible,” said D’Artagnan; “but when I reflect that we have killed English, Rochellais, Spaniards, nay, even French, who never did us any other harm but to aim at and to miss us, whose only fault was to cross swords with us and to be unable to ward off our blows — I can, on my honor, find an excuse for my share in the murder of that woman.”
+
+“As for me,” said Porthos, “now that you have reminded me of it, Athos, I have the scene again before me, as if I now were there. Milady was there, as it were, where you sit.” (Athos changed color.) “I — I was where D’Artagnan stands. I wore a long sword which cut like a Damascus — you remember it, Aramis for you always called it Balizarde. Well, I swear to you, all three, that had the executioner of Bethune — was he not of Bethune? — yes, egad! of Bethune! — not been there, I would have cut off the head of that infamous being without thinking of it, or even after thinking of it. She was a most atrocious woman.”
+
+“And then,” said Aramis, with the tone of philosophical indifference which he had assumed since he had belonged to the church and in which there was more atheism than confidence in God, “what is the use of thinking of it all? At the last hour we must confess this action and God knows better than we can whether it is a crime, a fault, or a meritorious deed. I repent of it? Egad! no. Upon my honor and by the holy cross; I only regret it because she was a woman.”
+
+“The most satisfactory part of the matter,” said D’Artagnan, “is that there remains no trace of it.”
+
+“She had a son,” observed Athos.
+
+“Oh! yes, I know that,” said D’Artagnan, “and you mentioned it to me; but who knows what has become of him? If the serpent be dead, why not its brood? Do you think his uncle De Winter would have brought up that young viper? De Winter probably condemned the son as he had done the mother.”
+
+“Then,” said Athos, “woe to De Winter, for the child had done no harm.”
+
+“May the devil take me, if the child be not dead,” said Porthos. “There is so much fog in that detestable country, at least so D’Artagnan declares.”
+
+Just as the quaint conclusion reached by Porthos was about to bring back hilarity to faces now more or less clouded, hasty footsteps were heard upon the stair and some one knocked at the door.
+
+“Come in,” cried Athos.
+
+“Please your honors,” said the host, “a person in a great hurry wishes to speak to one of you.”
+
+“To which of us?” asked all the four friends.
+
+“To him who is called the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“It is I,” said Athos, “and what is the name of the person?”
+
+“Grimaud.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Athos, turning pale. “Back already! What can have happened, then, to Bragelonne?”
+
+“Let him enter,” cried D’Artagnan; “let him come up.”
+
+But Grimaud had already mounted the staircase and was waiting on the last step; so springing into the room he motioned the host to leave it. The door being closed, the four friends waited in expectation. Grimaud’s agitation, his pallor, the sweat which covered his face, the dust which soiled his clothes, all indicated that he was the messenger of some important and terrible news.
+
+“Your honors,” said he, “that woman had a child; that child has become a man; the tigress had a little one, the tiger has roused himself; he is ready to spring upon you — beware!”
+
+Athos glanced around at his friends with a melancholy smile. Porthos turned to look at his sword, which was hanging on the wall; Aramis seized his knife; D’Artagnan arose.
+
+“What do you mean, Grimaud?” he exclaimed.
+
+“That Milady’s son has left England, that he is in France, on his road to Paris, if he be not here already.”
+
+“The devil he is!” said Porthos. “Are you sure of it?”
+
+“Certain,” replied Grimaud.
+
+This announcement was received in silence. Grimaud was so breathless, so exhausted, that he had fallen back upon a chair. Athos filled a beaker with champagne and gave it to him.
+
+“Well, after all,” said D’Artagnan, “supposing that he lives, that he comes to Paris; we have seen many other such. Let him come.”
+
+“Yes,” echoed Porthos, glancing affectionately at his sword, still hanging on the wall; “we can wait for him; let him come.”
+
+“Moreover, he is but a child,” said Aramis.
+
+Grimaud rose.
+
+“A child!” he exclaimed. “Do you know what he has done, this child? Disguised as a monk he discovered the whole history in confession from the executioner of Bethune, and having confessed him, after having learned everything from him, he gave him absolution by planting this dagger into his heart. See, it is on fire yet with his hot blood, for it is not thirty hours since it was drawn from the wound.”
+
+And Grimaud threw the dagger on the table.
+
+D’Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis rose and in one spontaneous motion rushed to their swords. Athos alone remained seated, calm and thoughtful.
+
+“And you say he is dressed as a monk, Grimaud?”
+
+“Yes, as an Augustine monk.”
+
+“What sized man is he?”
+
+“About my height; thin, pale, with light blue eyes and tawny flaxen hair.”
+
+“And he did not see Raoul?” asked Athos.
+
+“Yes, on the contrary, they met, and it was the viscount himself who conducted him to the bed of the dying man.”
+
+Athos, in his turn, rising without speaking, went and unhooked his sword.
+
+“Heigh, sir,” said D’Artagnan, trying to laugh, “do you know we look very much like a flock of silly, mouse-evading women! How is it that we, four men who have faced armies without blinking, begin to tremble at the mention of a child?”
+
+“It is true,” said Athos, “but this child comes in the name of Heaven.”
+
+And very soon they left the inn.
+
+Chapter XXXVI. A Letter from Charles the First.
+
+The reader must now cross the Seine with us and follow us to the door of the Carmelite Convent in the Rue Saint Jacques. It is eleven o’clock in the morning and the pious sisters have just finished saying mass for the success of the armies of King Charles I. Leaving the church, a woman and a young girl dressed in black, the one as a widow and the other as an orphan, have re-entered their cell.
+
+The woman kneels on a prie-dieu of painted wood and at a short distance from her stands the young girl, leaning against a chair, weeping.
+
+The woman must have once been handsome, but traces of sorrow have aged her. The young girl is lovely and her tears only embellish her; the lady appears to be about forty years of age, the girl about fourteen.
+
+“Oh, God!” prayed the kneeling suppliant, “protect my husband, guard my son, and take my wretched life instead!”
+
+“Oh, God!” murmured the girl, “leave me my mother!”
+
+“Your mother can be of no use to you in this world, Henrietta,” said the lady, turning around. “Your mother has no longer either throne or husband; she has neither son, money nor friends; the whole world, my poor child, has abandoned your mother!” And she fell back, weeping, into her daughter’s arms.
+
+“Courage, take courage, my dear mother!” said the girl.
+
+“Ah! ’tis an unfortunate year for kings,” said the mother. “And no one thinks of us in this country, for each must think about his own affairs. As long as your brother was with me he kept me up; but he is gone and can no longer send us news of himself, either to me or to your father. I have pledged my last jewels, sold your clothes and my own to pay his servants, who refused to accompany him unless I made this sacrifice. We are now reduced to live at the expense of these daughters of Heaven; we are the poor, succored by God.”
+
+“But why not address yourself to your sister, the queen?” asked the girl.
+
+“Alas! the queen, my sister, is no longer queen, my child. Another reigns in her name. One day you will be able to understand how all this is.”
+
+“Well, then, to the king, your nephew. Shall I speak to him? You know how much he loves me, my mother.
+
+“Alas! my nephew is not yet king, and you know Laporte has told us twenty times that he himself is in need of almost everything.”
+
+“Then let us pray to Heaven,” said the girl.
+
+The two women who thus knelt in united prayer were the daughter and grand-daughter of Henry IV., the wife and daughter of Charles I.
+
+They had just finished their double prayer, when a nun softly tapped at the door of the cell.
+
+“Enter, my sister,” said the queen.
+
+“I trust your majesty will pardon this intrusion on her meditations, but a foreign lord has arrived from England and waits in the parlor, demanding the honor of presenting a letter to your majesty.”
+
+“Oh, a letter! a letter from the king, perhaps. News from your father, do you hear, Henrietta? And the name of this lord?”
+
+“Lord de Winter.”
+
+“Lord de Winter!” exclaimed the queen, “the friend of my husband. Oh, bid him enter!”
+
+And the queen advanced to meet the messenger, whose hand she seized affectionately, whilst he knelt down and presented a letter to her, contained in a case of gold.
+
+“Ah! my lord!” said the queen, “you bring us three things which we have not seen for a long time. Gold, a devoted friend, and a letter from the king, our husband and master.”
+
+De Winter bowed again, unable to reply from excess of emotion.
+
+On their side the mother and daughter retired into the embrasure of a window to read eagerly the following letter:
+
+“Dear Wife, — We have now reached the moment of decision. I have concentrated here at Naseby camp all the resources Heaven has left me, and I write to you in haste from thence. Here I await the army of my rebellious subjects. I am about to struggle for the last time with them. If victorious, I shall continue the struggle; if beaten, I am lost. I shall try, in the latter case (alas! in our position, one must provide for everything), I shall try to gain the coast of France. But can they, will they receive an unhappy king, who will bring such a sad story into a country already agitated by civil discord? Your wisdom and your affection must serve me as guides. The bearer of this letter will tell you, madame, what I dare not trust to pen and paper and the risks of transit. He will explain to you the steps that I expect you to pursue. I charge him also with my blessing for my children and with the sentiments of my soul for yourself, my dearest sweetheart.”
+
+The letter bore the signature, not of “Charles, King,” but of “Charles — still king.”
+
+“And let him be no longer king,” cried the queen. “Let him be conquered, exiled, proscribed, provided he still lives. Alas! in these days the throne is too dangerous a place for me to wish him to retain it. But my lord, tell me,” she continued, “hide nothing from me — what is, in truth, the king’s position? Is it as hopeless as he thinks?”
+
+“Alas! madame, more hopeless than he thinks. His majesty has so good a heart that he cannot understand hatred; is so loyal that he does not suspect treason! England is torn in twain by a spirit of disturbance which, I greatly fear, blood alone can exorcise.”
+
+“But Lord Montrose,” replied the queen, “I have heard of his great and rapid successes of battles gained. I heard it said that he was marching to the frontier to join the king.”
+
+“Yes, madame; but on the frontier he was met by Lesly; he had tried victory by means of superhuman undertakings. Now victory has abandoned him. Montrose, beaten at Philiphaugh, was obliged to disperse the remains of his army and to fly, disguised as a servant. He is at Bergen, in Norway.”
+
+“Heaven preserve him!” said the queen. “It is at least a consolation to know that some who have so often risked their lives for us are safe. And now, my lord, that I see how hopeless the position of the king is, tell me with what you are charged on the part of my royal husband.”
+
+“Well, then, madame,” said De Winter, “the king wishes you to try and discover the dispositions of the king and queen toward him.”
+
+“Alas! you know that even now the king is but a child and the queen a woman weak enough. Here, Monsieur Mazarin is everything.”
+
+“Does he desire to play the part in France that Cromwell plays in England?”
+
+“Oh, no! He is a subtle, conscienceless Italian, who though he very likely dreams of crime, dares not commit it; and unlike Cromwell, who disposes of both Houses, Mazarin has had the queen to support him in his struggle with the parliament.”
+
+“More reason, then, he should protect a king pursued by parliament.”
+
+The queen shook her head despairingly.
+
+“If I judge for myself, my lord,” she said, “the cardinal will do nothing, and will even, perhaps, act against us. The presence of my daughter and myself in France is already irksome to him; much more so would be that of the king. My lord,” added Henrietta, with a melancholy smile, “it is sad and almost shameful to be obliged to say that we have passed the winter in the Louvre without money, without linen, almost without bread, and often not rising from bed because we wanted fire.”
+
+“Horrible!” cried De Winter; “the daughter of Henry IV., and the wife of King Charles! Wherefore did you not apply, then, madame, to the first person you saw from us?”
+
+“Such is the hospitality shown to a queen by the minister from whom a king demands it.”
+
+“But I heard that a marriage between the Prince of Wales and Mademoiselle d’Orleans was spoken of,” said De Winter.
+
+“Yes, for an instant I hoped it was so. The young people felt a mutual esteem; but the queen, who at first sanctioned their affection, changed her mind, and Monsieur, the Duc d’Orleans, who had encouraged the familiarity between them, has forbidden his daughter to think any more about the union. Oh, my lord!” continued the queen, without restraining her tears, “it is better to fight as the king has done, and to die, as perhaps he will, than live in beggary like me.”
+
+“Courage, madame! courage! Do not despair! The interests of the French crown, endangered at this moment, are to discountenance rebellion in a neighboring nation. Mazarin, as a statesman, will understand the politic necessity.”
+
+“Are you sure,” said the queen doubtfully, “that you have not been forestalled?”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By the Joices, the Prinns, the Cromwells?”
+
+“By a tailor, a coachmaker, a brewer! Ah! I hope, madame, that the cardinal will not enter into negotiations with such men!”
+
+“Ah! what is he himself?” asked Madame Henrietta.
+
+“But for the honor of the king — of the queen.”
+
+“Well, let us hope he will do something for the sake of their honor,” said the queen. “A true friend’s eloquence is so powerful, my lord, that you have reassured me. Give me your hand and let us go to the minister; and yet,” she added, “suppose he should refuse and that the king loses the battle?”
+
+“His majesty will then take refuge in Holland, where I hear his highness the Prince of Wales now is.”
+
+“And can his majesty count upon many such subjects as yourself for his flight?”
+
+“Alas! no, madame,” answered De Winter; “but the case is provided for and I am come to France to seek allies.”
+
+“Allies!” said the queen, shaking her head.
+
+“Madame,” replied De Winter, “provided I can find some of my good old friends of former times I will answer for anything.”
+
+“Come then, my lord,” said the queen, with the painful doubt that is felt by those who have suffered much; “come, and may Heaven hear you.”
+
+Chapter XXXVII. Cromwell’s Letter.
+
+At the very moment when the queen quitted the convent to go to the Palais Royal, a young man dismounted at the gate of this royal abode and announced to the guards that he had something of importance to communicate to Cardinal Mazarin. Although the cardinal was often tormented by fear, he was more often in need of counsel and information, and he was therefore sufficiently accessible. The true difficulty of being admitted was not to be found at the first door, and even the second was passed easily enough; but at the third watched, besides the guard and the doorkeepers, the faithful Bernouin, a Cerberus whom no speech could soften, no wand, even of gold, could charm.
+
+It was therefore at the third door that those who solicited or were bidden to an audience underwent their formal interrogatory.
+
+The young man having left his horse tied to the gate in the court, mounted the great staircase and addressed the guard in the first chamber.
+
+“Cardinal Mazarin?” said he.
+
+“Pass on,” replied the guard.
+
+The cavalier entered the second hall, which was guarded by the musketeers and doorkeepers.
+
+“Have you a letter of audience?” asked a porter, advancing to the new arrival.
+
+“I have one, but not one from Cardinal Mazarin.”
+
+“Enter, and ask for Monsieur Bernouin,” said the porter, opening the door of the third room. Whether he only held his usual post or whether it was by accident, Monsieur Bernouin was found standing behind the door and must have heard all that had passed.
+
+“You seek me, sir,” said he. “From whom may the letter be you bear to his eminence?”
+
+“From General Oliver Cromwell,” said the new comer. “Be so good as to mention this name to his eminence and to bring me word whether he will receive me — yes or no.”
+
+Saying which, he resumed the proud and sombre bearing peculiar at that time to Puritans. Bernouin cast an inquisitorial glance at the person of the young man and entered the cabinet of the cardinal, to whom he transmitted the messenger’s words.
+
+“A man bringing a letter from Oliver Cromwell?” said Mazarin. “And what kind of a man?”
+
+“A genuine Englishman, your eminence. Hair sandy-red — more red than sandy; gray-blue eyes — more gray than blue; and for the rest, stiff and proud.”
+
+“Let him give in his letter.”
+
+“His eminence asks for the letter,” said Bernouin, passing back into the ante-chamber.
+
+“His eminence cannot see the letter without the bearer of it,” replied the young man; “but to convince you that I am really the bearer of a letter, see, here it is; and kindly add,” continued he, “that I am not a simple messenger, but an envoy extraordinary.”
+
+Bernouin re-entered the cabinet, returning in a few seconds. “Enter, sir,” said he.
+
+The young man appeared on the threshold of the minister’s closet, in one hand holding his hat, in the other the letter. Mazarin rose. “Have you, sir,” asked he, “a letter accrediting you to me?”
+
+“There it is, my lord,” said the young man.
+
+Mazarin took the letter and read it thus:
+
+“Mr. Mordaunt, one of my secretaries, will remit this letter of introduction to His Eminence, the Cardinal Mazarin, in Paris. He is also the bearer of a second confidential epistle for his eminence.
+
+“Oliver Cromwell.”
+
+“Very well, Monsieur Mordaunt,” said Mazarin, “give me this second letter and sit down.”
+
+The young man drew from his pocket a second letter, presented it to the cardinal, and took his seat. The cardinal, however, did not unseal the letter at once, but continued to turn it again and again in his hand; then, in accordance with his usual custom and judging from experience that few people could hide anything from him when he began to question them, fixing his eyes upon them at the same time, he thus addressed the messenger:
+
+“You are very young, Monsieur Mordaunt, for this difficult task of ambassador, in which the oldest diplomatists often fail.”
+
+“My lord, I am twenty-three years of age; but your eminence is mistaken in saying that I am young. I am older than your eminence, although I possess not your wisdom. Years of suffering, in my opinion, count double, and I have suffered for twenty years.”
+
+“Ah, yes, I understand,” said Mazarin; “want of fortune, perhaps. You are poor, are you not?” Then he added to himself: “These English Revolutionists are all beggars and ill-bred.”
+
+“My lord, I ought to have a fortune of six millions, but it has been taken from me.”
+
+“You are not, then, a man of the people?” said Mazarin, astonished.
+
+“If I bore my proper title I should be a lord. If I bore my name you would have heard one of the most illustrious names of England.”
+
+“What is your name, then?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“My name is Mordaunt,” replied the young man, bowing.
+
+Mazarin now understood that Cromwell’s envoy desired to retain his incognito. He was silent for an instant, and during that time he scanned the young man even more attentively than he had done at first. The messenger was unmoved.
+
+“Devil take these Puritans,” said Mazarin aside; “they are carved from granite.” Then he added aloud, “But you have relations left you?”
+
+“I have one remaining. Three times I presented myself to ask his support and three times he ordered his servants to turn me away.”
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu! my dear Mr. Mordaunt,” said Mazarin, hoping by a display of affected pity to catch the young man in a snare, “how extremely your history interests me! You know not, then, anything of your birth — you have never seen your mother?”
+
+“Yes, my lord; she came three times, whilst I was a child, to my nurse’s house; I remember the last time she came as well as if it were to-day.”
+
+“You have a good memory,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Oh! yes, my lord,” said the young man, with such peculiar emphasis that the cardinal felt a shudder run through every vein.
+
+“And who brought you up?” he asked again.
+
+“A French nurse, who sent me away when I was five years old because no one paid her for me, telling me the name of a relation of whom she had heard my mother often speak.”
+
+“What became of you?”
+
+“As I was weeping and begging on the high road, a minister from Kingston took me in, instructed me in the Calvinistic faith, taught me all he knew himself and aided me in my researches after my family.”
+
+“And these researches?”
+
+“Were fruitless; chance did everything.”
+
+“You discovered what had become of your mother?”
+
+“I learned that she had been assassinated by my relation, aided by four friends, but I was already aware that I had been robbed of my wealth and degraded from my nobility by King Charles I.”
+
+“Oh! I now understand why you are in the service of Cromwell; you hate the king.”
+
+“Yes, my lord, I hate him!” said the young man.
+
+Mazarin marked with surprise the diabolical expression with which the young man uttered these words. Just as, ordinarily, faces are colored by blood, his face seemed dyed by hatred and became livid.
+
+“Your history is a terrible one, Mr. Mordaunt, and touches me keenly; but happily for you, you serve an all-powerful master; he ought to aid you in your search; we have so many means of gaining information.”
+
+“My lord, to a well-bred dog it is only necessary to show one end of a track; he is certain to reach the other.”
+
+“But this relation you mentioned — do you wish me to speak to him?” said Mazarin, who was anxious to make a friend about Cromwell’s person.
+
+“Thanks, my lord, I will speak to him myself. He will treat me better the next time I see him.”
+
+“You have the means, then, of touching him?”
+
+“I have the means of making myself feared.”
+
+Mazarin looked at the young man, but at the fire which shot from his glance he bent his head; then, embarrassed how to continue such a conversation, he opened Cromwell’s letter.
+
+The young man’s eyes gradually resumed their dull and glassy appearance and he fell into a profound reverie. After reading the first lines of the letter Mazarin gave a side glance at him to see if he was watching the expression of his face as he read. Observing his indifference, he shrugged his shoulders, saying:
+
+“Send on your business those who do theirs at the same time! Let us see what this letter contains.”
+
+We here present the letter verbatim:
+
+“To his Eminence, Monseigneur le Cardinal Mazarini:
+
+“I have wished, monseigneur, to learn your intentions relating to the existing state of affairs in England. The two kingdoms are so near that France must be interested in our situation, as we are interested in that of France. The English are almost of one mind in contending against the tyranny of Charles and his adherents. Placed by popular confidence at the head of that movement, I can appreciate better than any other its significance and its probable results. I am at present in the midst of war, and am about to deliver a decisive battle against King Charles. I shall gain it, for the hope of the nation and the Spirit of the Lord are with me. This battle won by me, the king will have no further resources in England or in Scotland; and if he is not captured or killed, he will endeavor to pass over into France to recruit soldiers and to refurnish himself with arms and money. France has already received Queen Henrietta, and, unintentionally, doubtless, has maintained a centre of inextinguishable civil war in my country. But Madame Henrietta is a daughter of France and was entitled to the hospitality of France. As to King Charles, the question must be viewed differently; in receiving and aiding him, France will censure the acts of the English nation, and thus so essentially harm England, and especially the well-being of the government, that such a proceeding will be equivalent to pronounced hostilities.”
+
+At this moment Mazarin became very uneasy at the turn which the letter was taking and paused to glance under his eyes at the young man. The latter continued in thought. Mazarin resumed his reading:
+
+“It is important, therefore, monseigneur, that I should be informed as to the intentions of France. The interests of that kingdom and those of England, though taking now diverse directions, are very nearly the same. England needs tranquillity at home, in order to consummate the expulsion of her king; France needs tranquillity to establish on solid foundations the throne of her young monarch. You need, as much as we do, that interior condition of repose which, thanks to the energy of our government, we are about to attain.
+
+“Your quarrels with the parliament, your noisy dissensions with the princes, who fight for you to-day and to-morrow will fight against you, the popular following directed by the coadjutor, President Blancmesnil, and Councillor Broussel — all that disorder, in short, which pervades the several departments of the state, must lead you to view with uneasiness the possibility of a foreign war; for in that event England, exalted by the enthusiasm of new ideas, will ally herself with Spain, already seeking that alliance. I have therefore believed, monseigneur, knowing your prudence and your personal relation to the events of the present time, that you will choose to hold your forces concentrated in the interior of the French kingdom and leave to her own the new government of England. That neutrality consists simply in excluding King Charles from the territory of France and in refraining from helping him — a stranger to your country — with arms, with money or with troops.
+
+“My letter is private and confidential, and for that reason I send it to you by a man who shares my most intimate counsels. It anticipates, through a sentiment which your eminence will appreciate, measures to be taken after the events. Oliver Cromwell considered it more expedient to declare himself to a mind as intelligent as Mazarin’s than to a queen admirable for firmness, without doubt, but too much guided by vain prejudices of birth and of divine right.
+
+“Farewell, monseigneur; should I not receive a reply in the space of fifteen days, I shall presume my letter will have miscarried.
+
+“Oliver Cromwell.”
+
+“Mr. Mordaunt,” said the cardinal, raising his voice, as if to arouse the dreamer, “my reply to this letter will be more satisfactory to General Cromwell if I am convinced that all are ignorant of my having given one; go, therefore, and await it at Boulogne-sur-Mer, and promise me to set out to-morrow morning.”
+
+“I promise, my lord,” replied Mordaunt; “but how many days does your eminence expect me to await your reply?”
+
+“If you do not receive it in ten days you can leave.”
+
+Mordaunt bowed.
+
+“That is not all, sir,” continued Mazarin; “your private adventures have touched me to the quick; besides, the letter from Mr. Cromwell makes you an important person as ambassador; come, tell me, what can I do for you?”
+
+Mordaunt reflected a moment and, after some hesitation, was about to speak, when Bernouin entered hastily and bending down to the ear of the cardinal, whispered:
+
+“My lord, the Queen Henrietta Maria, accompanied by an English noble, is entering the Palais Royal at this moment.”
+
+Mazarin made a bound from his chair, which did not escape the attention of the young man and suppressed the confidence he was about to make.
+
+“Sir,” said the cardinal, “you have heard me? I fix on Boulogne because I presume that every town in France is indifferent to you; if you prefer another, name it; but you can easily conceive that, surrounded as I am by influences I can only muzzle by discretion, I desire your presence in Paris to be unknown.”
+
+“I go, sir,” said Mordaunt, advancing a few steps to the door by which he had entered.
+
+“No, not that way, I beg, sir,” quickly exclaimed the cardinal, “be so good as to pass by yonder gallery, by which you can regain the hall. I do not wish you to be seen leaving; our interview must be kept secret.”
+
+Mordaunt followed Bernouin, who led him through the adjacent chamber and left him with a doorkeeper, showing him the way out.
+
+Chapter XXXVIII. Henrietta Maria and Mazarin.
+
+The cardinal rose, and advanced in haste to receive the queen of England. He showed the more respect to this queen, deprived of every mark of pomp and stripped of followers, as he felt some self-reproach for his own want of heart and his avarice. But supplicants for favor know how to accommodate the expression of their features, and the daughter of Henry IV. smiled as she advanced to meet a man she hated and despised.
+
+“Ah!” said Mazarin to himself, “what a sweet face; does she come to borrow money of me?”
+
+And he threw an uneasy glance at his strong box; he even turned inside the bevel of the magnificent diamond ring, the brilliancy of which drew every eye upon his hand, which indeed was white and handsome.
+
+“Your eminence,” said the august visitor, “it was my first intention to speak of the matters that have brought me here to the queen, my sister, but I have reflected that political affairs are more especially the concern of men.”
+
+“Madame,” said Mazarin, “your majesty overwhelms me with flattering distinction.”
+
+“He is very gracious,” thought the queen; “can he have guessed my errand?”
+
+“Give,” continued the cardinal, “your commands to the most respectful of your servants.”
+
+“Alas, sir,” replied the queen, “I have lost the habit of commanding and have adopted instead that of making petitions. I am here to petition you, too happy should my prayer be favorably heard.”
+
+“I am listening, madame, with the greatest interest,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Your eminence, it concerns the war which the king, my husband, is now sustaining against his rebellious subjects. You are perhaps ignorant that they are fighting in England,” added she, with a melancholy smile, “and that in a short time they will fight in a much more decided fashion than they have done hitherto.”
+
+“I am completely ignorant of it, madame,” said the cardinal, accompanying his words with a slight shrug of the shoulders; “alas, our own wars quite absorb the time and the mind of a poor, incapable, infirm old minister like me.”
+
+“Well, then, your eminence,” said the queen, “I must inform you that Charles I., my husband, is on the eve of a decisive engagement. In case of a check” (Mazarin made a slight movement), “one must foresee everything; in the case of a check, he desires to retire into France and to live here as a private individual. What do you say to this project?”
+
+The cardinal had listened without permitting a single fibre of his face to betray what he felt, and his smile remained as it ever was — false and flattering; and when the queen finished speaking, he said:
+
+“Do you think, madame, that France, agitated and disturbed as it is, would be a safe retreat for a dethroned king? How will the crown, which is scarce firmly set on the head of Louis XIV., support a double weight?”
+
+“The weight was not so heavy when I was in peril,” interrupted the queen, with a sad smile, “and I ask no more for my husband than has been done for me; you see that we are very humble monarchs, sir.”
+
+“Oh, you, madame,” the cardinal hastened to say, in order to cut short the explanation he foresaw was coming, “with regard to you, that is another thing. A daughter of Henry IV., of that great, that sublime sovereign — — ”
+
+“All which does not prevent you refusing hospitality to his son-in-law, sir! Nevertheless, you ought to remember that that great, that sublime monarch, when proscribed at one time, as my husband may be, demanded aid from England and England accorded it to him; and it is but just to say that Queen Elizabeth was not his niece.”
+
+“Peccato!” said Mazarin, writhing beneath this simple eloquence, “your majesty does not understand me; you judge my intentions wrongly, and that is partly because, doubtless, I explain myself in French.”
+
+“Speak Italian, sir. Ere the cardinal, your predecessor, sent our mother, Marie de Medicis, to die in exile, she taught us that language. If anything yet remains of that great, that sublime king, Henry, of whom you have just spoken, he would be much surprised at so little pity for his family being united to such a profound admiration of himself.”
+
+The perspiration stood in large drops on Mazarin’s brow.
+
+“That admiration is, on the contrary, so great, so real, madame,” returned Mazarin, without noticing the change of language offered to him by the queen, “that if the king, Charles I. — whom Heaven protect from evil! — came into France, I would offer him my house — my own house; but, alas! it would be but an unsafe retreat. Some day the people will burn that house, as they burned that of the Marechal d’Ancre. Poor Concino Concini! And yet he but desired the good of the people.”
+
+“Yes, my lord, like yourself!” said the queen, ironically.
+
+Mazarin pretended not to understand the double meaning of his own sentence, but continued to compassionate the fate of Concino Concini.
+
+“Well then, your eminence,” said the queen, becoming impatient, “what is your answer?”
+
+“Madame,” cried Mazarin, more and more moved, “will your majesty permit me to give you counsel?”
+
+“Speak, sir,” replied the queen; “the counsels of so prudent a man as yourself ought certainly to be available.”
+
+“Madame, believe me, the king ought to defend himself to the last.”
+
+“He has done so, sir, and this last battle, which he encounters with resources much inferior to those of the enemy, proves that he will not yield without a struggle; but in case he is beaten?”
+
+“Well, madame, in that case, my advice — I know that I am very bold to offer advice to your majesty — my advice is that the king should not leave his kingdom. Absent kings are very soon forgotten; if he passes over into France his cause is lost.”
+
+“But,” persisted the queen, “if such be your advice and you have his interest at heart, send him help of men and money, for I can do nothing for him; I have sold even to my last diamond to aid him. If I had had a single ornament left, I should have bought wood this winter to make a fire for my daughter and myself.”
+
+“Oh, madame,” said Mazarin, “your majesty knows not what you ask. On the day when foreign succor follows in the train of a king to replace him on his throne, it is an avowal that he no longer possesses the help and love of his own subjects.”
+
+“To the point, sir,” said the queen, “to the point, and answer me, yes or no; if the king persists in remaining in England will you send him succor? If he comes to France will you accord him hospitality? What do you intend to do? Speak.”
+
+“Madame,” said the cardinal, affecting an effusive frankness of speech, “I shall convince your majesty, I trust, of my devotion to you and my desire to terminate an affair which you have so much at heart. After which your majesty will, I think, no longer doubt my zeal in your behalf.”
+
+The queen bit her lips and moved impatiently on her chair.
+
+“Well, what do you propose to do?” she, said at length; “come, speak.”
+
+“I will go this instant and consult the queen, and we will refer the affair at once to parliament.”
+
+“With which you are at war — is it not so? You will charge Broussel to report it. Enough, sir, enough. I understand you or rather, I am wrong. Go to the parliament, for it was from this parliament, the enemy of monarchs, that the daughter of the great, the sublime Henry IV., whom you so much admire, received the only relief this winter which prevented her from dying of hunger and cold!”
+
+And with these words Henrietta rose in majestic indignation, whilst the cardinal, raising his hands clasped toward her, exclaimed, “Ah, madame, madame, how little you know me, mon Dieu!”
+
+But Queen Henrietta, without even turning toward him who made these hypocritical pretensions, crossed the cabinet, opened the door for herself and passing through the midst of the cardinal’s numerous guards, courtiers eager to pay homage, the luxurious show of a competing royalty, she went and took the hand of De Winter, who stood apart in isolation. Poor queen, already fallen! Though all bowed before her, as etiquette required, she had now but a single arm on which she could lean.
+
+“It signifies little,” said Mazarin, when he was alone. “It gave me pain and it was an ungracious part to play, but I have said nothing either to the one or to the other. Bernouin!”
+
+Bernouin entered.
+
+“See if the young man with the black doublet and the short hair, who was with me just now, is still in the palace.”
+
+Bernouin went out and soon returned with Comminges, who was on guard.
+
+“Your eminence,” said Comminges, “as I was re-conducting the young man for whom you have asked, he approached the glass door of the gallery, and gazed intently upon some object, doubtless the picture by Raphael, which is opposite the door. He reflected for a second and then descended the stairs. I believe I saw him mount a gray horse and leave the palace court. But is not your eminence going to the queen?”
+
+“For what purpose?”
+
+“Monsieur de Guitant, my uncle, has just told me that her majesty had received news of the army.”
+
+“It is well; I will go.”
+
+Comminges had seen rightly, and Mordaunt had really acted as he had related. In crossing the gallery parallel to the large glass gallery, he perceived De Winter, who was waiting until the queen had finished her negotiation.
+
+At this sight the young man stopped short, not in admiration of Raphael’s picture, but as if fascinated at the sight of some terrible object. His eyes dilated and a shudder ran through his body. One would have said that he longed to break through the wall of glass which separated him from his enemy; for if Comminges had seen with what an expression of hatred the eyes of this young man were fixed upon De Winter, he would not have doubted for an instant that the Englishman was his eternal foe.
+
+But he stopped, doubtless to reflect; for instead of allowing his first impulse, which had been to go straight to Lord de Winter, to carry him away, he leisurely descended the staircase, left the palace with his head down, mounted his horse, which he reined in at the corner of the Rue Richelieu, and with his eyes fixed on the gate, waited until the queen’s carriage had left the court.
+
+He had not long to wait, for the queen scarcely remained a quarter of an hour with Mazarin, but this quarter of an hour of expectation appeared a century to him. At last the heavy machine, which was called a chariot in those days, came out, rumbling against the gates, and De Winter, still on horseback, bent again to the door to converse with her majesty.
+
+The horses started on a trot and took the road to the Louvre, which they entered. Before leaving the convent of the Carmelites, Henrietta had desired her daughter to attend her at the palace, which she had inhabited for a long time and which she had only left because their poverty seemed to them more difficult to bear in gilded chambers.
+
+Mordaunt followed the carriage, and when he had watched it drive beneath the sombre arches he went and stationed himself under a wall over which the shadow was extended, and remained motionless, amidst the moldings of Jean Goujon, like a bas-relievo, representing an equestrian statue.
+
+Chapter XXXIX. How, sometimes, the Unhappy mistake Chance for Providence.
+
+Well, madame,” said De Winter, when the queen had dismissed her attendants.
+
+“Well, my lord, what I foresaw has come to pass.”
+
+“What? does the cardinal refuse to receive the king? France refuse hospitality to an unfortunate prince? Ay, but it is for the first time, madame!”
+
+“I did not say France, my lord; I said the cardinal, and the cardinal is not even a Frenchman.”
+
+“But did you see the queen?”
+
+“It is useless,” replied Henrietta, “the queen will not say yes when the cardinal says no. Are you not aware that this Italian directs everything, both indoors and out? And moreover, I should not be surprised had we been forestalled by Cromwell. He was embarrassed whilst speaking to me and yet quite firm in his determination to refuse. Then did you not observe the agitation in the Palais Royal, the passing to and fro of busy people? Can they have received any news, my lord?”
+
+“Not from England, madame. I made such haste that I am certain of not having been forestalled. I set out three days ago, passing miraculously through the Puritan army, and I took post horses with my servant Tony; the horses upon which we were mounted were bought in Paris. Besides, the king, I am certain, awaits your majesty’s reply before risking anything.”
+
+“You will tell him, my lord,” resumed the queen, despairingly, “that I can do nothing; that I have suffered as much as himself — more than he has — obliged as I am to eat the bread of exile and to ask hospitality from false friends who smile at my tears; and as regards his royal person, he must sacrifice it generously and die like a king. I shall go and die by his side.”
+
+“Madame, madame,” exclaimed De Winter, “your majesty abandons yourself to despair; and yet, perhaps, there still remains some hope.”
+
+“No friends left, my lord; no other friends left in the wide world but yourself! Oh, God!” exclaimed the poor queen, raising her eyes to Heaven, “have You indeed taken back all the generous hearts that once existed in the world?”
+
+“I hope not, madame,” replied De Winter, thoughtfully; “I once spoke to you of four men.”
+
+“What can be done with four?”
+
+“Four devoted, resolute men can do much, assure yourself, madame; and those of whom I speak performed great things at one time.”
+
+“And where are these four men?”
+
+“Ah, that is what I do not know. It is twenty years since I saw them, and yet whenever I have seen the king in danger I have thought of them.”
+
+“And these men were your friends?”
+
+“One of them held my life in his hands and gave it to me. I know not whether he is still my friend, but since that time I have remained his.”
+
+“And these men are in France, my lord?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“Tell me their names; perhaps I may have heard them mentioned and might be able to aid you in finding them.”
+
+“One of them was called the Chevalier d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Ah, my lord, if I mistake not, the Chevalier d’Artagnan is lieutenant of royal guards; but take care, for I fear that this man is entirely devoted to the cardinal.”
+
+“That would be a misfortune,” said De Winter, “and I shall begin to think that we are really doomed.”
+
+“But the others,” said the queen, who clung to this last hope as a shipwrecked man clings to the hull of his vessel. “The others, my lord!”
+
+“The second — I heard his name by chance; for before fighting us, these four gentlemen told us their names; the second was called the Comte de la Fere. As for the two others, I had so much the habit of calling them by nicknames that I have forgotten their real ones.”
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu, it is a matter of the greatest urgency to find them out,” said the queen, “since you think these worthy gentlemen might be so useful to the king.”
+
+“Oh, yes,” said De Winter, “for they are the same men. Listen, madame, and recall your remembrances. Have you never heard that Queen Anne of Austria was once saved from the greatest danger ever incurred by a queen?”
+
+“Yes, at the time of her relations with Monsieur de Buckingham; it had to do in some way with certain studs and diamonds.”
+
+“Well, it was that affair, madame; these men are the ones who saved her; and I smile with pity when I reflect that if the names of those gentlemen are unknown to you it is because the queen has forgotten them, who ought to have made them the first noblemen of the realm.”
+
+“Well, then, my lord, they must be found; but what can four men, or rather three men do — for I tell you, you must not count on Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“It will be one valiant sword the less, but there will remain still three, without reckoning my own; now four devoted men around the king to protect him from his enemies, to be at his side in battle, to aid him with counsel, to escort him in flight, are sufficient, not to make the king a conqueror, but to save him if conquered; and whatever Mazarin may say, once on the shores of France your royal husband may find as many retreats and asylums as the seabird finds in a storm.”
+
+“Seek, then, my lord, seek these gentlemen; and if they will consent to go with you to England, I will give to each a duchy the day that we reascend the throne, besides as much gold as would pave Whitehall. Seek them, my lord, and find them, I conjure you.”
+
+“I will search for them, madame,” said De Winter “and doubtless I shall find them; but time fails me. Has your majesty forgotten that the king expects your reply and awaits it in agony?”
+
+“Then indeed we are lost!” cried the queen, in the fullness of a broken heart.
+
+At this moment the door opened and the young Henrietta appeared; then the queen, with that wonderful strength which is the privilege of parents, repressed her tears and motioned to De Winter to change the subject.
+
+But that act of self-control, effective as it was, did not escape the eyes of the young princess. She stopped on the threshold, breathed a sigh, and addressing the queen:
+
+“Why, then, do you always weep, mother, when I am away from you?” she said.
+
+The queen smiled, but instead of answering:
+
+“See, De Winter,” she said, “I have at least gained one thing in being only half a queen; and that is that my children call me ‘mother’ instead of ‘madame.’”
+
+Then turning toward her daughter:
+
+“What do you want, Henrietta?” she demanded.
+
+“My mother,” replied the young princess, “a cavalier has just entered the Louvre and wishes to present his respects to your majesty; he arrives from the army and has, he says, a letter to remit to you, on the part of the Marechal de Grammont, I think.”
+
+“Ah!” said the queen to De Winter, “he is one of my faithful adherents; but do you not observe, my dear lord, that we are so poorly served that it is left to my daughter to fill the office of doorkeeper?”
+
+“Madame, have pity on me,” exclaimed De Winter; “you wring my heart!”
+
+“And who is this cavalier, Henrietta?” asked the queen.
+
+“I saw him from the window, madame; he is a young man that appears scarce sixteen years of age, and is called the Viscount de Bragelonne.”
+
+The queen, smiling, made a sign with her head; the young princess opened the door and Raoul appeared on the threshold.
+
+Advancing a few steps toward the queen, he knelt down.
+
+“Madame,” said he, “I bear to your majesty a letter from my friend the Count de Guiche, who told me he had the honor of being your servant; this letter contains important news and the expression of his respect.”
+
+At the name of the Count de Guiche a blush spread over the cheeks of the young princess and the queen glanced at her with some degree of severity.
+
+“You told me that the letter was from the Marechal de Grammont, Henrietta!” said the queen.
+
+“I thought so, madame,” stammered the young girl.
+
+“It is my fault, madame,” said Raoul. “I did announce myself, in truth, as coming on the part of the Marechal de Grammont; but being wounded in the right arm he was unable to write and therefore the Count de Guiche acted as his secretary.”
+
+“There has been fighting, then?” asked the queen, motioning to Raoul to rise.
+
+“Yes, madame,” said the young man.
+
+At this announcement of a battle having taken place, the princess opened her mouth as though to ask a question of interest; but her lips closed again without articulating a word, while the color gradually faded from her cheeks.
+
+The queen saw this, and doubtless her maternal heart translated the emotion, for addressing Raoul again:
+
+“And no evil has happened to the young Count de Guiche?” she asked; “for not only is he our servant, as you say, sir, but more — he is one of our friends.”
+
+“No, madame,” replied Raoul; “on the contrary, he gained great glory and had the honor of being embraced by his highness, the prince, on the field of battle.”
+
+The young princess clapped her hands; and then, ashamed of having been betrayed into such a demonstration of joy, she half turned away and bent over a vase of roses, as if to inhale their odor.
+
+“Let us see,” said the queen, “what the count says.” And she opened the letter and read:
+
+“Madame, — Being unable to have the honor of writing to you myself, by reason of a wound I have received in my right hand, I have commanded my son, the Count de Guiche, who, with his father, is equally your humble servant, to write to tell you that we have just gained the battle of Lens, and that this victory cannot fail to give great power to Cardinal Mazarin and to the queen over the affairs of Europe. If her majesty will have faith in my counsels she ought to profit by this event to address at this moment, in favor of her august husband, the court of France. The Vicomte de Bragelonne, who will have the honor of remitting this letter to your majesty, is the friend of my son, who owes to him his life; he is a gentleman in whom your majesty may confide entirely, in case your majesty may have some verbal or written order to remit to me.
+
+“I have the honor to be, with respect, etc.,
+
+“Marechal de Grammont.”
+
+At the moment mention occurred of his having rendered a service to the count, Raoul could not help turning his glance toward the young princess, and then he saw in her eyes an expression of infinite gratitude to the young man; he no longer doubted that the daughter of King Charles I. loved his friend.
+
+“The battle of Lens gained!” said the queen; “they are lucky here indeed; they can gain battles! Yes, the Marechal de Grammont is right; this will change the aspect of French affairs, but I much fear it will do nothing for English, even if it does not harm them. This is recent news, sir,” continued she, “and I thank you for having made such haste to bring it to me; without this letter I should not have heard till to-morrow, perhaps after to-morrow — the last of all Paris.”
+
+“Madame,” said Raoul, “the Louvre is but the second palace this news has reached; it is as yet unknown to all, and I had sworn to the Count de Guiche to remit this letter to your majesty before even I should embrace my guardian.”
+
+“Your guardian! is he, too, a Bragelonne?” asked Lord de Winter. “I once knew a Bragelonne — is he still alive?”
+
+“No, sir, he is dead; and I believe it is from him my guardian, whose near relation he was, inherited the estate from which I take my name.”
+
+“And your guardian, sir,” asked the queen, who could not help feeling some interest in the handsome young man before her, “what is his name?”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere, madame,” replied the young man, bowing.
+
+De Winter made a gesture of surprise and the queen turned to him with a start of joy.
+
+“The Comte de la Fere!” she cried. “Have you not mentioned that name to me?”
+
+As for De Winter he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. “The Comte de la Fere!” he cried in his turn. “Oh, sir, reply, I entreat you — is not the Comte de la Fere a noble whom I remember, handsome and brave, a musketeer under Louis XIII., who must be now about forty-seven or forty-eight years of age?”
+
+“Yes, sir, you are right in every particular!”
+
+“And who served under an assumed name?”
+
+“Under the name of Athos. Latterly I heard his friend, Monsieur d’Artagnan, give him that name.”
+
+“That is it, madame, that is the same. God be praised! And he is in Paris?” continued he, addressing Raoul; then turning to the queen: “We may still hope. Providence has declared for us, since I have found this brave man again in so miraculous a manner. And, sir, where does he reside, pray?”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere lodges in the Rue Guenegaud, Hotel du Grand Roi Charlemagne.”
+
+“Thanks, sir. Inform this dear friend that he may remain within, that I shall go and see him immediately.”
+
+“Sir, I obey with pleasure, if her majesty will permit me to depart.”
+
+“Go, Monsieur de Bragelonne,” said the queen, “and rest assured of our affection.”
+
+Raoul bent respectfully before the two princesses, and bowing to De Winter, departed.
+
+The queen and De Winter continued to converse for some time in low voices, in order that the young princess should not overhear them; but the precaution was needless: she was in deep converse with her own thoughts.
+
+Then, when De Winter rose to take leave:
+
+“Listen, my lord,” said the queen; “I have preserved this diamond cross which came from my mother, and this order of St. Michael which came from my husband. They are worth about fifty thousand pounds. I had sworn to die of hunger rather than part with these precious pledges; but now that this ornament may be useful to him or his defenders, everything must be sacrificed. Take them, and if you need money for your expedition, sell them fearlessly, my lord. But should you find the means of retaining them, remember, my lord, that I shall esteem you as having rendered the greatest service that a gentleman can render to a queen; and in the day of my prosperity he who brings me this order and this cross shall be blessed by me and my children.”
+
+“Madame,” replied De Winter, “your majesty will be served by a man devoted to you. I hasten to deposit these two objects in a safe place, nor should I accept them if the resources of our ancient fortune were left to us, but our estates are confiscated, our ready money is exhausted, and we are reduced to turn to service everything we possess. In an hour hence I shall be with the Comte de la Fere, and to-morrow your majesty shall have a definite reply.”
+
+The queen tendered her hand to Lord de Winter, who, kissing it respectfully, went out and traversed alone and unconducted those large, dark and deserted apartments, brushing away tears which, blase as he was by fifty years spent as a courtier, he could not withhold at the spectacle of royal distress so dignified, yet so intense.
+
+Chapter XL. Uncle and Nephew.
+
+The horse and servant belonging to De Winter were waiting for him at the door; he proceeded toward his abode very thoughtfully, looking behind him from time to him to contemplate the dark and silent frontage of the Louvre. It was then that he saw a horseman, as it were, detach himself from the wall and follow him at a little distance. In leaving the Palais Royal he remembered to have observed a similar shadow.
+
+“Tony,” he said, motioning to his groom to approach.
+
+“Here I am, my lord.”
+
+“Did you remark that man who is following us?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“I do not know, only he has followed your grace from the Palais Royal, stopped at the Louvre to wait for you, and now leaves the Louvre with you.”
+
+“Some spy of the cardinal,” said De Winter to him, aside. “Let us pretend not to notice that he is watching us.”
+
+And spurring on he plunged into the labyrinth of streets which led to his hotel, situated near the Marais, for having for so long a time lived near the Place Royale, Lord de Winter naturally returned to lodge near his ancient dwelling.
+
+The unknown spurred his horse to a gallop.
+
+De Winter dismounted at his hotel and went up into his apartment, intending to watch the spy; but as he was about to place his gloves and hat on a table, he saw reflected in a glass opposite to him a figure which stood on the threshold of the room. He turned around and Mordaunt stood before him.
+
+There was a moment of frozen silence between these two.
+
+“Sir,” said De Winter, “I thought I had already made you aware that I am weary of this persecution; withdraw, then, or I shall call and have you turned out as you were in London. I am not your uncle, I know you not.”
+
+“My uncle,” replied Mordaunt, with his harsh and bantering tone, “you are mistaken; you will not have me turned out this time as you did in London — you dare not. As for denying that I am your nephew, you will think twice about it, now that I have learned some things of which I was ignorant a year ago.”
+
+“And how does it concern me what you have learned?” said De Winter.
+
+“Oh, it concerns you very closely, my uncle, I am sure, and you will soon be of my opinion,” added he, with a smile which sent a shudder through the veins of him he thus addressed. “When I presented myself before you for the first time in London, it was to ask you what had become of my fortune; the second time it was to demand who had sullied my name; and this time I come before you to ask a question far more terrible than any other, to say to you as God said to the first murderer: ‘Cain, what hast thou done to thy brother Abel?’ My lord, what have you done with your sister — your sister, who was my mother?”
+
+De Winter shrank back from the fire of those scorching eyes.
+
+“Your mother?” he said.
+
+“Yes, my lord, my mother,” replied the young man, advancing into the room until he was face to face with Lord de Winter, and crossing his arms. “I have asked the headsman of Bethune,” he said, his voice hoarse and his face livid with passion and grief. “And the headsman of Bethune gave me a reply.”
+
+De Winter fell back in a chair as though struck by a thunderbolt and in vain attempted a reply.
+
+“Yes,” continued the young man; “all is now explained; with this key I open the abyss. My mother inherited an estate from her husband, you have assassinated her; my name would have secured me the paternal estate, you have deprived me of it; you have despoiled me of my fortune. I am no longer astonished that you knew me not. I am not surprised that you refused to recognize me. When a man is a robber it is hard to call him nephew whom he has impoverished; when one is a murderer, to recognize the man whom one has made an orphan.”
+
+These words produced a contrary effect to that which Mordaunt had anticipated. De Winter remembered the monster that Milady had been; he rose, dignified and calm, restraining by the severity of his look the wild glance of the young man.
+
+“You desire to fathom this horrible secret?” said De Winter; “well, then, so be it. Know, then, what manner of woman it was for whom to-day you call me to account. That woman had, in all probability, poisoned my brother, and in order to inherit from me she was about to assassinate me in my turn. I have proof of it. What say you to that?”
+
+“I say that she was my mother.”
+
+“She caused the unfortunate Duke of Buckingham to be stabbed by a man who was, ere that, honest, good and pure. What say you to that crime, of which I have the proof?”
+
+“She was my mother.”
+
+“On our return to France she had a young woman who was attached to one of her opponents poisoned in the convent of the Augustines at Bethune. Will this crime persuade you of the justice of her punishment — for of all this I have the proofs?”
+
+“She was my mother!” cried the young man, who uttered these three successive exclamations with constantly increasing force.
+
+“At last, charged with murders, with debauchery, hated by every one and yet threatening still, like a panther thirsting for blood, she fell under the blows of men whom she had rendered desperate, though they had never done her the least injury; she met with judges whom her hideous crimes had evoked; and that executioner you saw — that executioner who you say told you everything — that executioner, if he told you everything, told you that he leaped with joy in avenging on her his brother’s shame and suicide. Depraved as a girl, adulterous as a wife, an unnatural sister, homicide, poisoner, execrated by all who knew her, by every nation that had been visited by her, she died accursed by Heaven and earth.”
+
+A sob which Mordaunt could not repress burst from his throat and his livid face became suffused with blood; he clenched his fists, sweat covered his face, his hair, like Hamlet’s, stood on end, and racked with fury he cried out:
+
+“Silence, sir! she was my mother! Her crimes, I know them not; her disorders, I know them not; her vices, I know them not. But this I know, that I had a mother, that five men leagued against one woman, murdered her clandestinely by night — silently — like cowards. I know that you were one of them, my uncle, and that you cried louder than the others: ‘She must die.’ Therefore I warn you, and listen well to my words, that they may be engraved upon your memory, never to be forgotten: this murder, which has robbed me of everything — this murder, which has deprived me of my name — this murder, which has impoverished me — this murder, which has made me corrupt, wicked, implacable — I shall summon you to account for it first and then those who were your accomplices, when I discover them!”
+
+With hatred in his eyes, foaming at his mouth, and his fist extended, Mordaunt had advanced one more step, a threatening, terrible step, toward De Winter. The latter put his hand to his sword, and said, with the smile of a man who for thirty years has jested with death:
+
+“Would you assassinate me, sir? Then I shall recognize you as my nephew, for you would be a worthy son of such a mother.”
+
+“No,” replied Mordaunt, forcing his features and the muscles of his body to resume their usual places and be calm; “no, I shall not kill you; at least not at this moment, for without you I could not discover the others. But when I have found them, then tremble, sir. I stabbed to the heart the headsman of Bethune, without mercy or pity, and he was the least guilty of you all.”
+
+With these words the young man went out and descended the stairs with sufficient calmness to pass unobserved; then upon the lowest landing place he passed Tony, leaning over the balustrade, waiting only for a call from his master to mount to his room.
+
+But De Winter did not call; crushed, enfeebled, he remained standing and with listening ear; then only when he had heard the step of the horse going away he fell back on a chair, saying:
+
+“My God, I thank Thee that he knows me only.”
+
+Chapter XLI. Paternal Affection.
+
+Whilst this terrible scene was passing at Lord de Winter’s, Athos, seated near his window, his elbow on the table and his head supported on his hand, was listening intently to Raoul’s account of the adventures he met with on his journey and the details of the battle.
+
+Listening to the relation of those emotions so fresh and pure, the fine, noble face of Athos betrayed indescribable pleasure; he inhaled the tones of that young voice, as harmonious music. He forgot all that was dark in the past and that was cloudy in the future. It almost seemed as if the return of this much loved boy had changed his fears to hopes. Athos was happy — happy as he had never been before.
+
+“And you assisted and took part in this great battle, Bragelonne!” cried the former musketeer.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And it was a fierce one?”
+
+“His highness the prince charged eleven times in person.”
+
+“He is a great commander, Bragelonne.”
+
+“He is a hero, sir. I did not lose sight of him for an instant. Oh! how fine it is to be called Condé and to be so worthy of such a name!”
+
+“He was calm and radiant, was he not?”
+
+“As calm as at parade, radiant as at a fete. When we went up to the enemy it was slowly; we were forbidden to draw first and we were marching toward the Spaniards, who were on a height with lowered muskets. When we arrived about thirty paces from them the prince turned around to the soldiers: ‘Comrades,’ he said, ‘you are about to suffer a furious discharge; but after that you will make short work with those fellows.’ There was such dead silence that friends and enemies could have heard these words; then raising his sword, ‘Sound trumpets!’ he cried.”
+
+“Well, very good; you will do as much when the opportunity occurs, will you, Raoul?”
+
+“I know not, sir, but I thought it really very fine and grand!”
+
+“Were you afraid, Raoul?” asked the count.
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied the young man naively; “I felt a great chill at my heart, and at the word ‘fire,’ which resounded in Spanish from the enemy’s ranks, I closed my eyes and thought of you.”
+
+“In honest truth, Raoul?” said Athos, pressing his hand.
+
+“Yes, sir; at that instant there was such a rataplan of musketry that one might have imagined the infernal regions had opened. Those who were not killed felt the heat of the flames. I opened my eyes, astonished to find myself alive and even unhurt; a third of the squadron were lying on the ground, wounded, dead or dying. At that moment I encountered the eye of the prince. I had but one thought and that was that he was observing me. I spurred on and found myself in the enemy’s ranks.”
+
+“And the prince was pleased with you?”
+
+“He told me so, at least, sir, when he desired me to return to Paris with Monsieur de Chatillon, who was charged to carry the news to the queen and to bring the colors we had taken. ‘Go,’ said he; ‘the enemy will not rally for fifteen days and until that time I have no need of your service. Go and see those whom you love and who love you, and tell my sister De Longueville that I thank her for the present that she made me of you.’ And I came, sir,” added Raoul, gazing at the count with a smile of real affection, “for I thought you would be glad to see me again.”
+
+Athos drew the young man toward him and pressed his lips to his brow, as he would have done to a young daughter.
+
+“And now, Raoul,” said he, “you are launched; you have dukes for friends, a marshal of France for godfather, a prince of the blood as commander, and on the day of your return you have been received by two queens; it is not so bad for a novice.”
+
+“Oh sir,” said Raoul, suddenly, “you recall something, which, in my haste to relate my exploits, I had forgotten; it is that there was with Her Majesty the Queen of England, a gentleman who, when I pronounced your name, uttered a cry of surprise and joy; he said he was a friend of yours, asked your address, and is coming to see you.”
+
+“What is his name?”
+
+“I did not venture to ask, sir; he spoke elegantly, although I thought from his accent he was an Englishman.”
+
+“Ah!” said Athos, leaning down his head as if to remember who it could be. Then, when he raised it again, he was struck by the presence of a man who was standing at the open door and was gazing at him with a compassionate air.
+
+“Lord de Winter!” exclaimed the count.
+
+“Athos, my friend!”
+
+And the two gentlemen were for an instant locked in each other’s arms; then Athos, looking into his friend’s face and taking him by both hands, said:
+
+“What ails you, my lord? you appear as unhappy as I am the reverse.”
+
+“Yes, truly, dear friend; and I may even say the sight of you increases my dismay.”
+
+And De Winter glancing around him, Raoul quickly understood that the two friends wished to be alone and he therefore left the room unaffectedly.
+
+“Come, now that we are alone,” said Athos, “let us talk of yourself.”
+
+“Whilst we are alone let us speak of ourselves,” replied De Winter. “He is here.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Milady’s son.”
+
+Athos, again struck by this name, which seemed to pursue him like an echo, hesitated for a moment, then slightly knitting his brows, he calmly said:
+
+“I know it, Grimaud met him between Bethune and Arras and then came here to warn me of his presence.”
+
+“Does Grimaud know him, then?”
+
+“No; but he was present at the deathbed of a man who knew him.”
+
+“The headsman of Bethune?” exclaimed De Winter.
+
+“You know about that?” cried Athos, astonished.
+
+“He has just left me,” replied De Winter, “after telling me all. Ah! my friend! what a horrible scene! Why did we not destroy the child with the mother?”
+
+“What need you fear?” said Athos, recovering from the instinctive fear he had at first experienced, by the aid of reason; “are we not men accustomed to defend ourselves? Is this young man an assassin by profession — a murderer in cold blood? He has killed the executioner of Bethune in an access of passion, but now his fury is assuaged.”
+
+De Winter smiled sorrowfully and shook his head.
+
+“Do you not know the race?” said he.
+
+“Pooh!” said Athos, trying to smile in his turn. “It must have lost its ferocity in the second generation. Besides, my friend, Providence has warned us, that we may be on our guard. All we can now do is to wait. Let us wait; and, as I said before, let us speak of yourself. What brings you to Paris?”
+
+“Affairs of importance which you shall know later. But what is this that I hear from Her Majesty the Queen of England? Monsieur d’Artagnan sides with Mazarin! Pardon my frankness, dear friend. I neither hate nor blame the cardinal, and your opinions will be held ever sacred by me. But do you happen to belong to him?”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” replied Athos, “is in the service; he is a soldier and obeys all constitutional authority. Monsieur d’Artagnan is not rich and has need of his position as lieutenant to enable him to live. Millionaires like yourself, my lord, are rare in France.”
+
+“Alas!” said De Winter, “I am at this moment as poor as he is, if not poorer. But to return to our subject.”
+
+“Well, then, you wish to know if I am of Mazarin’s party? No. Pardon my frankness, too, my lord.”
+
+“I am obliged to you, count, for this pleasing intelligence! You make me young and happy again by it. Ah! so you are not a Mazarinist? Delightful! Indeed, you could not belong to him. But pardon me, are you free? I mean to ask if you are married?”
+
+“Ah! as to that, no,” replied Athos, laughing.
+
+“Because that young man, so handsome, so elegant, so polished — — ”
+
+“Is a child I have adopted and who does not even know who was his father.”
+
+“Very well; you are always the same, Athos, great and generous. Are you still friends with Monsieur Porthos and Monsieur Aramis?”
+
+“Add Monsieur d’Artagnan, my lord. We still remain four friends devoted to each other; but when it becomes a question of serving the cardinal or of fighting him, of being Mazarinists or Frondists, then we are only two.”
+
+“Is Monsieur Aramis with D’Artagnan?” asked Lord de Winter.
+
+“No,” said Athos; “Monsieur Aramis does me the honor to share my opinions.”
+
+“Could you put me in communication with your witty and agreeable friend? Is he much changed?”
+
+“He has become an abbé, that is all.”
+
+“You alarm me; his profession must have made him renounce any great undertakings.”
+
+“On the contrary,” said Athos, smiling, “he has never been so much a musketeer as since he became an abbé, and you will find him a veritable soldier.”
+
+“Could you engage to bring him to me to-morrow morning at ten o’clock, on the Pont du Louvre?”
+
+“Oh, oh!” exclaimed Athos, smiling, “you have a duel in prospect.”
+
+“Yes, count, and a splendid duel, too; a duel in which I hope you will take your part.”
+
+“Where are we to go, my lord?”
+
+“To Her Majesty the Queen of England, who has desired me to present you to her.”
+
+“This is an enigma,” said Athos, “but it matters not; since you know the solution of it I ask no further. Will your lordship do me the honor to sup with me?”
+
+“Thanks, count, no,” replied De Winter. “I own to you that that young man’s visit has subdued my appetite and probably will rob me of my sleep. What undertaking can have brought him to Paris? It was not to meet me that he came, for he was ignorant of my journey. This young man terrifies me, my lord; there lies in him a sanguinary predisposition.”
+
+“What occupies him in England?”
+
+“He is one of Cromwell’s most enthusiastic disciples.”
+
+“But what attached him to the cause? His father and mother were Catholics, I believe?”
+
+“His hatred of the king, who deprived him of his estates and forbade him to bear the name of De Winter.”
+
+“And what name does he now bear?”
+
+“Mordaunt.”
+
+“A Puritan, yet disguised as a monk he travels alone in France.”
+
+“Do you say as a monk?”
+
+“It was thus, and by mere accident — may God pardon me if I blaspheme — that he heard the confession of the executioner of Bethune.”
+
+“Then I understand it all! he has been sent by Cromwell to Mazarin, and the queen guessed rightly; we have been forestalled. Everything is clear to me now. Adieu, count, till to-morrow.”
+
+“But the night is dark,” said Athos, perceiving that Lord de Winter seemed more uneasy than he wished to appear; “and you have no servant.”
+
+“I have Tony, a safe if simple youth.”
+
+“Halloo, there, Grimaud, Olivain, and Blaisois! call the viscount and take the musket with you.”
+
+Blaisois was the tall youth, half groom, half peasant, whom we saw at the Chateau de Bragelonne, whom Athos had christened by the name of his province.
+
+“Viscount,” said Athos to Raoul, as he entered, “you will conduct my lord as far as his hotel and permit no one to approach him.”
+
+“Oh! count,” said De Winter, “for whom do you take me?”
+
+“For a stranger who does not know Paris,” said Athos, “and to whom the viscount will show the way.”
+
+De Winter shook him by the hand.
+
+“Grimaud,” said Athos, “put yourself at the head of the troop and beware of the monk.”
+
+Grimaud shuddered, and nodding, awaited the departure, regarding the butt of his musket with silent eloquence. Then obeying the orders given him by Athos, he headed the small procession, bearing the torch in one hand and the musket in the other, until it reached De Winter’s inn, when pounding on the portal with his fist, he bowed to my lord and faced about without a word.
+
+The same order was followed in returning, nor did Grimaud’s searching glance discover anything of a suspicious appearance, save a dark shadow, as it were, in ambuscade, at the corner of the Rue Guenegaud and of the Quai. He fancied, also, that in going he had already observed the street watcher who had attracted his attention. He pushed on toward him, but before he could reach it the shadow had disappeared into an alley, into which Grimaud deemed it scarcely prudent to pursue it.
+
+The next day, on awaking, the count perceived Raoul by his bedside. The young man was already dressed and was reading a new book by M. Chapelain.
+
+“Already up, Raoul?” exclaimed the count.
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied Raoul, with slight hesitation; “I did not sleep well.”
+
+“You, Raoul, not sleep well! then you must have something on your mind!” said Athos.
+
+“Sir, you will perhaps think that I am in a great hurry to leave you when I have only just arrived, but — — ”
+
+“Have you only two days of leave, Raoul?”
+
+“On the contrary, sir, I have ten; nor is it to the camp I wish to go.”
+
+“Where, then?” said Athos, smiling, “if it be not a secret. You are now almost a man, since you have made your first passage of arms, and have acquired the right to go where you will without consulting me.”
+
+“Never, sir,” said Raoul, “as long as I possess the happiness of having you for a protector, shall I deem I have the right of freeing myself from a guardianship so valuable to me. I have, however, a wish to go and pass a day at Blois. You look at me and you are going to laugh at me.”
+
+“No, on the contrary, I am not inclined to laugh,” said Athos, suppressing a sigh. “You wish to see Blois again; it is but natural.”
+
+“Then you permit me to go, you are not angry in your heart?” exclaimed Raoul, joyously.
+
+“Certainly; and why should I regret what gives you pleasure?”
+
+“Oh! how kind you are,” exclaimed the young man, pressing his guardian’s hand; “and I can set out immediately?”
+
+“When you like, Raoul.”
+
+“Sir,” said Raoul, as he turned to leave the room, “I have thought of one thing, and that is about the Duchess of Chevreuse, who was so kind to me and to whom I owe my introduction to the prince.”
+
+“And you ought to thank her, Raoul. Well, try the Hotel de Luynes, Raoul, and ask if the duchess can receive you. I am glad to see you pay attention to the usages of the world. You must take Grimaud and Olivain.”
+
+“Both, sir?” asked Raoul, astonished.
+
+“Both.”
+
+Raoul went out, and when Athos heard his young, joyous voice calling to Grimaud and Olivain, he sighed.
+
+“It is very soon to leave me,” he thought, “but he follows the common custom. Nature has made us thus; she makes the young look ever forward, not behind. He certainly likes the child, but will he love me less as his affection grows for her?”
+
+And Athos confessed to himself that, he was unprepared for so prompt a departure; but Raoul was so happy that this reflection effaced everything else from the consideration of his guardian.
+
+Everything was ready at ten o’clock for the departure, and as Athos was watching Raoul mount, a groom rode up from the Duchess de Chevreuse. He was charged to tell the Comte de la Fere, that she had learned of the return of her youthful protege, and also the manner he had conducted himself on the field, and she added that she should be very glad to offer him her congratulations.
+
+“Tell her grace,” replied Athos, “that the viscount has just mounted his horse to proceed to the Hotel de Luynes.”
+
+Then, with renewed instructions to Grimaud, Athos signified to Raoul that he could set out, and ended by reflecting that it was perhaps better that Raoul should be away from Paris at that moment.
+
+Chapter XLII. Another Queen in Want of Help.
+
+Athos had not failed to send early to Aramis and had given his letter to Blaisois, the only serving-man whom he had left. Blaisois found Bazin donning his beadle’s gown, his services being required that day at Notre Dame.
+
+Athos had desired Blaisois to try to speak to Aramis himself. Blaisois, a tall, simple youth, who understood nothing but what he was expressly told, asked, therefore for the Abbé d’Herblay, and in spite of Bazin’s assurances that his master was not at home, he persisted in such a manner as to put Bazin into a passion. Blaisois seeing Bazin in clerical guise, was a little discomposed at his denials and wanted to pass at all risks, believing too, that the man with whom he had to do was endowed with the virtues of his cloth, namely, patience and Christian charity.
+
+But Bazin, still the servant of a musketeer, when once the blood mounted to his fat cheeks, seized a broomstick and began belaboring Blaisois, saying:
+
+“You have insulted the church, my friend, you have insulted the church!”
+
+At this moment Aramis, aroused by this unusual disturbance, cautiously opened the door of his room; and Blaisois, looking reproachfully at the Cerberus, drew the letter from his pocket and presented it to Aramis.
+
+“From the Comte de la Fere,” said Aramis. “All right.” And he retired into his room without even asking the cause of so much noise.
+
+Blaisois returned disconsolate to the Hotel of the Grand Roi Charlemagne and when Athos inquired if his commission was executed, he related his adventure.
+
+“You foolish fellow!” said Athos, laughing. “And you did not tell him that you came from me?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+At ten o’clock Athos, with his habitual exactitude, was waiting on the Pont du Louvre and was almost immediately joined by Lord de Winter.
+
+They waited ten minutes and then his lordship began to fear Aramis was not coming to join them.
+
+“Patience,” said Athos, whose eyes were fixed in the direction of the Rue du Bac, “patience; I see an abbé cuffing a man, then bowing to a woman; it must be Aramis.”
+
+It was indeed Aramis. Having run against a young shopkeeper who was gaping at the crows and who had splashed him, Aramis with one blow of his fist had distanced him ten paces.
+
+At this moment one of his penitents passed, and as she was young and pretty Aramis took off his cap to her with his most gracious smile.
+
+A most affectionate greeting, as one can well believe took place between him and Lord de Winter.
+
+“Where are we going?” inquired Aramis; “are we going to fight, perchance? I carry no sword this morning and cannot return home to procure one.”
+
+“No,” said Lord de Winter, “we are going to pay a visit to Her Majesty the Queen of England.”
+
+“Oh, very well,” replied Aramis; then bending his face down to Athos’s ear, “what is the object of this visit?” continued he.
+
+“Nay, I know not; some evidence required from us, perhaps.”
+
+“May it not be about that cursed affair?” asked Aramis, “in which case I do not greatly care to go, for it will be to pocket a lecture; and since it is my function to give them to others I am rather averse to receiving them myself.”
+
+“If it were so,” answered Athos, “we should not be taken there by Lord de Winter, for he would come in for his share; he was one of us.”
+
+“You’re right; yes, let us go.”
+
+On arriving at the Louvre Lord de Winter entered first; indeed, there was but one porter there to receive them at the gate.
+
+It was impossible in daylight for the impoverished state of the habitation grudging charity had conceded to an unfortunate queen to pass unnoticed by Athos, Aramis, and even the Englishman. Large rooms, completely stripped of furniture, bare walls upon which, here and there, shone the old gold moldings which had resisted time and neglect, windows with broken panes (impossible to close), no carpets, neither guards nor servants: this is what first met the eyes of Athos, to which he, touching his companion’s elbow, directed his attention by his glances.
+
+“Mazarin is better lodged,” said Aramis.
+
+“Mazarin is almost king,” answered Athos; “Madame Henrietta is almost no longer queen.”
+
+“If you would condescend to be clever, Athos,” observed Aramis, “I really do think you would be wittier than poor Monsieur de Voiture.”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+The queen appeared to be impatiently expecting them, for at the first slight noise she heard in the hall leading to her room she came herself to the door to receive these courtiers in the corridors of Misfortune.
+
+“Enter. You are welcome, gentlemen,” she said.
+
+The gentlemen entered and remained standing, but at a motion from the queen they seated themselves. Athos was calm and grave, but Aramis was furious; the sight of such royal misery exasperated him and his eyes examined every new trace of poverty that presented itself.
+
+“You are examining the luxury I enjoy,” said the queen, glancing sadly around her.
+
+“Madame,” replied Aramis, “I must ask your pardon, but I know not how to hide my indignation at seeing how a daughter of Henry IV. is treated at the court of France.”
+
+“Monsieur Aramis is not an officer?” asked the queen of Lord de Winter.
+
+“That gentleman is the Abbé d’Herblay,” replied he.
+
+Aramis blushed. “Madame,” he said, “I am an abbé, it is true, but I am so against my will. I never had a vocation for the bands; my cassock is fastened by one button only, and I am always ready to become a musketeer once more. This morning, being ignorant that I should have the honor of seeing your majesty, I encumbered myself with this dress, but you will find me none the less a man devoted to your majesty’s service, in whatever way you may see fit to use me.”
+
+“The Abbé d’Herblay,” resumed De Winter, “is one of those gallant musketeers formerly belonging to His Majesty King Louis XIII., of whom I have spoken to you, madame.” Then turning to Athos, he continued, “And this gentleman is that noble Comte de la Fere, whose high reputation is so well known to your majesty.”
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the queen, “a few years ago I had around me ushers, treasures, armies; and by the lifting of a finger all these were busied in my service. To-day, look around you, and it may astonish you, that in order to accomplish a plan which is dearer to me than life I have only Lord de Winter, the friend of twenty years, and you, gentlemen, whom I see for the first time and whom I know but as my countrymen.”
+
+“It is enough,” said Athos, bowing low, “if the lives of three men can purchase yours, madame.”
+
+“I thank you, gentlemen. But hear me,” continued she. “I am not only the most miserable of queens, but the most unhappy of mothers, the most wretched of wives. My children, two of them, at least, the Duke of York and the Princess Elizabeth, are far away from me, exposed to the blows of the ambitious and our foes; my husband, the king, is leading in England so wretched an existence that it is no exaggeration to aver that he seeks death as a thing to be desired. Hold! gentlemen, here is the letter conveyed to me by Lord de Winter. Read it.”
+
+Obeying the queen, Athos read aloud the letter which we have already seen, in which King Charles demanded to know whether the hospitality of France would be accorded him.
+
+“Well?” asked Athos, when he had closed the letter.
+
+“Well,” said the queen, “it has been refused.”
+
+The two friends exchanged a smile of contempt.
+
+“And now,” said Athos, “what is to be done? I have the honor to inquire from your majesty what you desire Monsieur d’Herblay and myself to do in your service. We are ready.”
+
+“Ah, sir, you have a noble heart!” exclaimed the queen, with a burst of gratitude; whilst Lord de Winter turned to her with a glance which said, “Did I not answer for them?”
+
+“But you, sir?” said the queen to Aramis.
+
+“I, madame,” replied he, “follow Monsieur de la Fere wherever he leads, even were it on to death, without demanding wherefore; but when it concerns your majesty’s service, then,” added he, looking at the queen with all the grace of former days, “I precede the count.”
+
+“Well, then, gentlemen,” said the queen, “since it is thus, and since you are willing to devote yourselves to the service of a poor princess whom the whole world has abandoned, this is what is required to be done for me. The king is alone with a few gentlemen, whom he fears to lose every day; surrounded by the Scotch, whom he distrusts, although he be himself a Scotchman. Since Lord de Winter left him I am distracted, sirs. I ask much, too much, perhaps, for I have no title to request it. Go to England, join the king, be his friends, protectors, march to battle at his side, and be near him in his house, where conspiracies, more dangerous than the perils of war, are hatching every day. And in exchange for the sacrifice that you make, gentlemen, I promise — not to reward you, I believe that word would offend you — but to love you as a sister, to prefer you, next to my husband and my children, to every one. I swear it before Heaven.”
+
+And the queen raised her eyes solemnly upward.
+
+“Madame,” said Athos, “when must we set out?”
+
+“You consent then?” exclaimed the queen, joyfully.
+
+“Yes, madame; only it seems to me that your majesty goes too far in engaging to load us with a friendship so far above our merit. We render service to God, madame, in serving a prince so unfortunate, a queen so virtuous. Madame, we are yours, body and soul.”
+
+“Oh, sirs,” said the queen, moved even to tears, “this is the first time for five years I have felt the least approach to joy or hope. God, who can read my heart, all the gratitude I feel, will reward you! Save my husband! Save the king, and although you care not for the price that is placed upon a good action in this world, leave me the hope that we shall meet again, when I may be able to thank you myself. In the meantime, I remain here. Have you anything to ask of me? From this moment I become your friend, and since you are engaged in my affairs I ought to occupy myself in yours.”
+
+“Madame,” replied Athos, “I have only to ask your majesty’s prayers.”
+
+“And I,” said Aramis, “I am alone in the world and have only your majesty to serve.”
+
+The queen held out her hand, which they kissed, and she said in a low tone to De Winter:
+
+“If you need money, my lord, separate the jewels I have given you; detach the diamonds and sell them to some Jew. You will receive for them fifty or sixty thousand francs; spend them if necessary, but let these gentlemen be treated as they deserve, that is to say, like kings.”
+
+The queen had two letters ready, one written by herself, the other by her daughter, the Princess Henrietta. Both were addressed to King Charles. She gave the first to Athos and the other to Aramis, so that should they be separated by chance they might make themselves known to the king; after which they withdrew.
+
+At the foot of the staircase De Winter stopped.
+
+“Not to arouse suspicions, gentlemen,” said he, “go your way and I will go mine, and this evening at nine o’clock we will assemble again at the Gate Saint Denis. We will travel on horseback as far as our horses can go and afterward we can take the post. Once more, let me thank you, my good friends, both in my own name and the queen’s.”
+
+The three gentlemen then shook hands, Lord de Winter taking the Rue Saint Honore, and Athos and Aramis remaining together.
+
+“Well,” said Aramis, when they were alone, “what do you think of this business, my dear count?”
+
+“Bad,” replied Athos, “very bad.”
+
+“But you received it with enthusiasm.”
+
+“As I shall ever receive the defense of a great principle, my dear D’Herblay. Monarchs are only strong by the assistance of the aristocracy, but aristocracy cannot survive without the countenance of monarchs. Let us, then, support monarchy, in order to support ourselves.
+
+“We shall be murdered there,” said Aramis. “I hate the English — they are coarse, like every nation that swills beer.”
+
+“Would it be better to remain here,” said Athos, “and take a turn in the Bastile or the dungeon of Vincennes for having favored the escape of Monsieur de Beaufort? I’faith, Aramis, believe me, there is little left to regret. We avoid imprisonment and we play the part of heroes; the choice is easy.”
+
+“It is true; but in everything, friend, one must always return to the same question — a stupid one, I admit, but very necessary — have you any money?”
+
+“Something like a hundred pistoles, that my farmer sent to me the day before I left Bragelonne; but out of that sum I ought to leave fifty for Raoul — a young man must live respectably. I have then about fifty pistoles. And you?”
+
+“As for me, I am quite sure that after turning out all my pockets and emptying my drawers I shall not find ten louis at home. Fortunately Lord de Winter is rich.”
+
+“Lord de Winter is ruined for the moment; Oliver Cromwell has annexed his income resources.”
+
+“Now is the time when Baron Porthos would be useful.”
+
+“Now it is that I regret D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Let us entice them away.”
+
+“This secret, Aramis, does not belong to us; take my advice, then, and let no one into our confidence. And moreover, in taking such a step we should appear to be doubtful of ourselves. Let us regret their absence to ourselves for our own sakes, but not speak of it.”
+
+“You are right; but what are you going to do until this evening? I have two things to postpone.”
+
+“And what are they?”
+
+“First, a thrust with the coadjutor, whom I met last night at Madame de Rambouillet’s and whom I found particular in his remarks respecting me.”
+
+“Oh, fie — a quarrel between priests, a duel between allies!”
+
+“What can I do, friend? he is a bully and so am I; his cassock is a burden to him and I imagine I have had enough of mine; in fact, there is so much resemblance between us that I sometimes believe he is Aramis and I am the coadjutor. This kind of life fatigues and oppresses me; besides, he is a turbulent fellow, who will ruin our party. I am convinced that if I gave him a box on the ear, such as I gave this morning to the little citizen who splashed me, it would change the appearance of things.”
+
+“And I, my dear Aramis,” quietly replied Athos, “I think it would only change Monsieur de Retz’s appearance. Take my advice, leave things just as they are; besides, you are neither of you now your own masters; he belongs to the Fronde and you to the queen of England. So, if the second matter which you regret being unable to attend to is not more important than the first — — ”
+
+“Oh! that is of the first importance.”
+
+“Attend to it, then, at once.”
+
+“Unfortunately, it is a thing that I can’t perform at any time I choose. It was arranged for the evening and no other time will serve.”
+
+“I understand,” said Athos smiling, “midnight.”
+
+“About that time.”
+
+“But, my dear fellow, those are things that bear postponement and you must put it off, especially with so good an excuse to give on your return — — ”
+
+“Yes, if I return.”
+
+“If you do not return, how does it concern you? Be reasonable. Come, you are no longer twenty years old.”
+
+“To my great regret, mordieu! Ah, if I were but twenty years old!”
+
+“Yes,” said Athos, “doubtless you would commit great follies! But now we must part. I have one or two visits to make and a letter yet to write. Call for me at eight o’clock or shall I wait supper for you at seven?”
+
+“That will do very well,” said Aramis. “I have twenty visits to make and as many letters to write.”
+
+They then separated. Athos went to pay a visit to Madame de Vendome, left his name at Madame de Chevreuse’s and wrote the following letter to D’Artagnan:
+
+“Dear Friend, — I am about to set off with Aramis on important business. I wished to make my adieux to you, but time does not permit. Remember that I write to you now to repeat how much affection for you I still cherish.
+
+“Raoul is gone to Blois and is ignorant of my departure; watch over him in my absence as much as you possibly can; and if by chance you receive no news of me three months hence, tell him to open a packet which he will find addressed to him in my bronze casket at Blois, of which I send you now the key.
+
+“Embrace Porthos from Aramis and myself. Adieu, perhaps farewell.”
+
+At the hour agreed upon Aramis arrived; he was dressed as an officer and had the old sword at his side which he had drawn so often and which he was more than ever ready to draw.
+
+“By-the-bye,” he said, “I think that we are decidedly wrong to depart thus, without leaving a line for Porthos and D’Artagnan.”
+
+“The thing is done, dear friend,” said Athos; “I foresaw that and have embraced them both from you and myself.”
+
+“You are a wonderful man, my dear count,” said Aramis; “you think of everything.”
+
+“Well, have you made up your mind to this journey?”
+
+“Quite; and now that I reflect about it, I am glad to leave Paris at this moment.”
+
+“And so am I,” replied Athos; “my only regret is not having seen D’Artagnan; but the rascal is so cunning, he might have guessed our project.”
+
+When supper was over Blaisois entered. “Sir,” said he, “here is Monsieur d’Artagnan’s answer.”
+
+“But I did not tell you there would be an answer, stupid!” said Athos.
+
+“And I set off without waiting for one, but he called me back and gave me this;” and he presented a little leather bag, plump and giving out a golden jingle.
+
+Athos opened it and began by drawing forth a little note, written in these terms:
+
+“My dear Count, — When one travels, and especially for three months, one never has a superfluity of money. Now, recalling former times of mutual distress, I send you half my purse; it is money to obtain which I made Mazarin sweat. Don’t make a bad use of it, I entreat you.
+
+“As to what you say about not seeing you again, I believe not a word of it; with such a heart as yours — and such a sword — one passes through the valley of the shadow of death a dozen times, unscathed and unalarmed. Au revoir, not farewell.
+
+“It is unnecessary to say that from the day I saw Raoul I loved him; nevertheless, believe that I heartily pray that I may not become to him a father, however much I might be proud of such a son.
+
+“Your
+
+“D’Artagnan.
+
+“P.S. — Be it well understood that the fifty louis which I send are equally for Aramis as for you — for you as Aramis.”
+
+Athos smiled, and his fine eye was dimmed by a tear. D’Artagnan, who had loved him so tenderly, loved him still, although a Mazarinist.
+
+“There are the fifty louis, i’faith,” said Aramis, emptying the purse on the table, all bearing the effigy of Louis XIII. “Well, what shall you do with this money, count? Shall you keep it or send it back?”
+
+“I shall keep it, Aramis, and even though I had no need of it I still should keep it. What is offered from a generous heart should be accepted generously. Take twenty-five of them, Aramis, and give me the remaining twenty-five.”
+
+“All right; I am glad to see you are of my opinion. There now, shall we start?”
+
+“When you like; but have you no groom?”
+
+“No; that idiot Bazin had the folly to make himself verger, as you know, and therefore cannot leave Notre Dame.
+
+“Very well, take Blaisois, with whom I know not what to do, since I already have Grimaud.”
+
+“Willingly,” said Aramis.
+
+At this moment Grimaud appeared at the door. “Ready,” said he, with his usual curtness.
+
+“Let us go, then,” said Athos.
+
+The two friends mounted, as did their servants. At the corner of the Quai they encountered Bazin, who was running breathlessly.
+
+“Oh, sir!” exclaimed he, “thank Heaven I have arrived in time. Monsieur Porthos has just been to your house and has left this for you, saying that the letter was important and must be given to you before you left.”
+
+“Good,” said Aramis, taking a purse which Bazin presented to him. “What is this?”
+
+“Wait, your reverence, there is a letter.”
+
+“You know I have already told you that if you ever call me anything but chevalier I will break every bone in your body. Give me the letter.”
+
+“How can you read?” asked Athos, “it is as dark as a cold oven.”
+
+“Wait,” said Bazin, striking a flint, and setting afire a twisted wax-light, with which he started the church candles. Thus illumined, Aramis read the following epistle:
+
+“My dear D’Herblay, — I learned from D’Artagnan who has embraced me on the part of the Comte de la Fere and yourself, that you are setting out on a journey which may perhaps last two or three months; as I know that you do not like to ask money of your friends I offer you some of my own accord. Here are two hundred pistoles, which you can dispose of as you wish and return to me when opportunity occurs. Do not fear that you put me to inconvenience; if I want money I can send for some to any of my chateaux; at Bracieux alone, I have twenty thousand francs in gold. So, if I do not send you more it is because I fear you would not accept a larger sum.
+
+“I address you, because you know, that although I esteem him from my heart I am a little awed by the Comte de la Fere; but it is understood that what I offer you I offer him at the same time.
+
+“I am, as I trust you do not doubt, your devoted
+
+“Du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds.”
+
+“Well,” said Aramis, “what do you say to that?”
+
+“I say, my dear D’Herblay, that it is almost sacrilege to distrust Providence when one has such friends, and therefore we will divide the pistoles from Porthos, as we divided the louis sent by D’Artagnan.”
+
+The division being made by the light of Bazin’s taper, the two friends continued their road and a quarter of an hour later they had joined De Winter at the Porte Saint Denis.
+
+Chapter XLIII. In which it is proved that first Impulses are oftentimes the best.
+
+The three gentlemen took the road to Picardy, a road so well known to them and which recalled to Athos and Aramis some of the most picturesque adventures of their youth.
+
+“If Mousqueton were with us,” observed Athos, on reaching the spot where they had had a dispute with the paviers, “how he would tremble at passing this! Do you remember, Aramis, that it was here he received that famous bullet wound?”
+
+“By my faith, ’twould be excusable in him to tremble,” replied Aramis, “for even I feel a shudder at the recollection; hold, just above that tree is the little spot where I thought I was killed.”
+
+It was soon time for Grimaud to recall the past. Arriving before the inn at which his master and himself had made such an enormous repast, he approached Athos and said, showing him the airhole of the cellar:
+
+“Sausages!”
+
+Athos began to laugh, for this juvenile escapade of his appeared to be as amusing as if some one had related it of another person.
+
+At last, after traveling two days and a night, they arrived at Boulogne toward the evening, favored by magnificent weather. Boulogne was a strong position, then almost a deserted town, built entirely on the heights; what is now called the lower town did not then exist.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said De Winter, on reaching the gate of the town, “let us do here as at Paris — let us separate to avoid suspicion. I know an inn, little frequented, but of which the host is entirely devoted to me. I will go there, where I expect to find letters, and you go to the first tavern in the town, to L’Epee du Grand Henri for instance, refresh yourselves, and in two hours be upon the jetty; our boat is waiting for us there.”
+
+The matter being thus decided, the two friends found, about two hundred paces further, the tavern indicated. Their horses were fed, but not unsaddled; the grooms supped, for it was already late, and their two masters, impatient to return, appointed a place of meeting with them on the jetty and desired them on no account to exchange a word with any one. It is needless to say that this caution concerned Blaisois alone — long enough since it had been a useless one to Grimaud.
+
+Athos and Aramis walked down toward the port. From their dress, covered with dust, and from a certain easy manner by means of which a man accustomed to travel is always recognizable, the two friends excited the attention of a few promenaders. There was more especially one upon whom their arrival had produced a decided impression. This man, whom they had noticed from the first for the same reason they had themselves been remarked by others, was walking in a listless way up and down the jetty. From the moment he perceived them he did not cease to look at them and seemed to burn with the wish to speak to them.
+
+On reaching the jetty Athos and Aramis stopped to look at a little boat made fast to a pile and ready rigged as if waiting to start.
+
+“That is doubtless our boat,” said Athos.
+
+“Yes,” replied Aramis, “and the sloop out there making ready to sail must be that which is to take us to our destination; now,” continued he, “if only De Winter does not keep us waiting. It is not at all amusing here; there is not a single woman passing.”
+
+“Hush!” said Athos, “we are overheard.”
+
+In truth, the walker, who, during the observations of the two friends, had passed and repassed behind them several times, stopped at the name of De Winter; but as his face betrayed no emotion at mention of this name, it might have been by chance he stood so still.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the man, who was young and pale, bowing with ease and courtesy, “pardon my curiosity, but I see you come from Paris, or at least that you are strangers at Boulogne.”
+
+“We come from Paris, yes,” replied Athos, with the same courtesy; “what is there we can do for you?”
+
+“Sir,” said the young man, “will you be so good as to tell me if it be true that Cardinal Mazarin is no longer minister?”
+
+“That is a strange question,” said Aramis.
+
+“He is and he is not,” replied Athos; “that is to say, he is dismissed by one-half of France, but by intrigues and promises he makes the other half sustain him; you will perceive that this may last a long time.”
+
+“However, sir,” said the stranger, “he has neither fled nor is in prison?”
+
+“No, sir, not at this moment at least.”
+
+“Sirs, accept my thanks for your politeness,” said the young man, retreating.
+
+“What do you think of that interrogator?” asked Aramis.
+
+“I think he is either a dull provincial person or a spy in search of information.”
+
+“And you replied to him with that notion?”
+
+“Nothing warranted me to answer him otherwise; he was polite to me and I was so to him.”
+
+“But if he be a spy — — ”
+
+“What do you think a spy would be about here? We are not living in the time of Cardinal Richelieu, who would have closed the ports on bare suspicion.”
+
+“It matters not; you were wrong to reply to him as you did,” continued Aramis, following with his eyes the young man, now vanishing behind the cliffs.
+
+“And you,” said Athos, “you forget that you committed a very different kind of imprudence in pronouncing Lord de Winter’s name. Did you not see that at that name the young man stopped?”
+
+“More reason, then, when he spoke to you, for sending him about his business.”
+
+“A quarrel?” asked Athos.
+
+“And since when have you become afraid of a quarrel?”
+
+“I am always afraid of a quarrel when I am expected at any place and when such a quarrel might possibly prevent my reaching it. Besides, let me own something to you. I am anxious to see that young man nearer.”
+
+“And wherefore?”
+
+“Aramis, you will certainly laugh at me, you will say that I am always repeating the same thing, you will call me the most timorous of visionaries; but to whom do you see a resemblance in that young man?”
+
+“In beauty or on the contrary?” asked Aramis, laughing.
+
+“In ugliness, in so far as a man can resemble a woman.”
+
+“Ah! Egad!” cried Aramis, “you set me thinking. No, in truth you are no visionary, my dear friend, and now I think of it — you — yes, i’faith, you’re right — those delicate, yet firm-set lips, those eyes which seem always at the command of the intellect and never of the heart! Yes, it is one of Milady’s bastards!”
+
+“You laugh Aramis.”
+
+“From habit, that is all. I swear to you, I like no better than yourself to meet that viper in my path.”
+
+“Ah! here is De Winter coming,” said Athos.
+
+“Good! one thing now is only awanting and that is, that our grooms should not keep us waiting.”
+
+“No,” said Athos. “I see them about twenty paces behind my lord. I recognize Grimaud by his long legs and his determined slouch. Tony carries our muskets.”
+
+“Then we set sail to-night?” asked Aramis, glancing toward the west, where the sun had left a single golden cloud, which, dipping into the ocean, appeared by degrees to be extinguished.
+
+“Probably,” said Athos.
+
+“Diable!” resumed Aramis, “I have little fancy for the sea by day, still less at night; the sounds of wind and wave, the frightful movements of the vessel; I confess I prefer the convent of Noisy.”
+
+Athos smiled sadly, for it was evident that he was thinking of other things as he listened to his friend and moved toward De Winter.
+
+“What ails our friend?” said Aramis, “he resembles one of Dante’s damned, whose neck Apollyon has dislocated and who are ever looking at their heels. What the devil makes him glower thus behind him?”
+
+When De Winter perceived them, in his turn he advanced toward them with surprising rapidity.
+
+“What is the matter, my lord?” said Athos, “and what puts you out of breath thus?”
+
+“Nothing,” replied De Winter; “nothing; and yet in passing the heights it seemed to me — — ” and he again turned round.
+
+Athos glanced at Aramis.
+
+“But let us go,” continued De Winter; “let us be off; the boat must be waiting for us and there is our sloop at anchor — do you see it there? I wish I were on board already,” and he looked back again.
+
+“He has seen him,” said Athos, in a low tone, to Aramis.
+
+They had reached the ladder which led to the boat. De Winter made the grooms who carried the arms and the porters with the luggage descend first and was about to follow them.
+
+At this moment Athos perceived a man walking on the seashore parallel to the jetty, and hastening his steps, as if to reach the other side of the port, scarcely twenty steps from the place of embarking. He fancied in the darkness that he recognized the young man who had questioned him. Athos now descended the ladder in his turn, without losing sight of the young man. The latter, to make a short cut, had appeared on a sluice.
+
+“He certainly bodes us no good,” said Athos; “but let us embark; once out at sea, let him come.”
+
+And Athos sprang into the boat, which was immediately pushed off and which soon sped seawards under the efforts of four stalwart rowers.
+
+But the young man had begun to follow, or rather to advance before the boat. She was obliged to pass between the point of the jetty, surmounted by a beacon just lighted, and a rock which jutted out. They saw him in the distance climbing the rock in order to look down upon the boat as it passed.
+
+“Ay, but,” said Aramis, “that young fellow is decidedly a spy.”
+
+“Which is the young man?” asked De Winter, turning around.
+
+“He who followed us and spoke to us awaits us there; behold!”
+
+De Winter turned and followed the direction of Aramis’s finger. The beacon bathed with light the little strait through which they were about to pass and the rock where the young man stood with bare head and crossed arms.
+
+“It is he!” exclaimed De Winter, seizing the arm of Athos; “it is he! I thought I recognized him and I was not mistaken.”
+
+“Whom do you mean?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Milady’s son,” replied Athos.
+
+“The monk!” exclaimed Grimaud.
+
+The young man heard these words and bent so forward over the rock that one might have supposed he was about to precipitate himself from it.
+
+“Yes, it is I, my uncle — I, the son of Milady — I, the monk — I, the secretary and friend of Cromwell — I know you now, both you and your companions.”
+
+In that boat sat three men, unquestionably brave, whose courage no man would have dared dispute; nevertheless, at that voice, that accent and those gestures, they felt a chill access of terror cramp their veins. As for Grimaud, his hair stood on end and drops of sweat ran down his brow.
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Aramis, “that is the nephew, the monk, and the son of Milady, as he says himself.”
+
+“Alas, yes,” murmured De Winter.
+
+“Then wait,” said Aramis; and with the terrible coolness which on important occasions he showed, he took one of the muskets from Tony, shouldered and aimed it at the young man, who stood, like the accusing angel, upon the rock.
+
+“Fire!” cried Grimaud, unconsciously.
+
+Athos threw himself on the muzzle of the gun and arrested the shot which was about to be fired.
+
+“The devil take you,” said Aramis. “I had him so well at the point of my gun I should have sent a ball into his breast.”
+
+“It is enough to have killed the mother,” said Athos, hoarsely.
+
+“The mother was a wretch, who struck at us all and at those dear to us.”
+
+“Yes, but the son has done us no harm.”
+
+Grimaud, who had risen to watch the effect of the shot, fell back hopeless, wringing his hands.
+
+The young man burst into a laugh.
+
+“Ah, it is certainly you!” he cried. “I know you even better now.”
+
+His mocking laugh and threatening words passed over their heads, carried by the breeze, until lost in the depths of the horizon. Aramis shuddered.
+
+“Be calm,” exclaimed Athos, “for Heaven’s sake! have we ceased to be men?”
+
+“No,” said Aramis, “but that fellow is a fiend; and ask the uncle whether I was wrong to rid him of his dear nephew.”
+
+De Winter only replied by a groan.
+
+“It was all up with him,” continued Aramis; “ah I much fear that with all your wisdom such mercy yet will prove supernal folly.”
+
+Athos took Lord de Winter’s hand and tried to turn the conversation.
+
+“When shall we land in England?” he asked; but De Winter seemed not to hear his words and made no reply.
+
+“Hold, Athos,” said Aramis, “perhaps there is yet time. See if he is still in the same place.”
+
+Athos turned around with an effort; the sight of the young man was evidently painful to him, and there he still was, in fact, on the rock, the beacon shedding around him, as it were, a doubtful aureole.
+
+“Decidedly, Aramis,” said Athos, “I think I was wrong not to let you fire.”
+
+“Hold your tongue,” replied Aramis; “you would make me weep, if such a thing were possible.”
+
+At this moment they were hailed by a voice from the sloop and a few seconds later men, servants and baggage were aboard. The captain was only waiting for his passengers; hardly had they put foot on deck ere her head was turned towards Hastings, where they were to disembark. At this instant the three friends turned, in spite of themselves, a last look on the rock, upon the menacing figure which pursued them and now stood out with a distinctness still. Then a voice reached them once more, sending this threat: “To our next meeting, sirs, in England.”
+
+Chapter XLIV. Te Deum for the Victory of Lens.
+
+The bustle which had been observed by Henrietta Maria and for which she had vainly sought to discover a reason, was occasioned by the battle of Lens, announced by the prince’s messenger, the Duc de Chatillon, who had taken such a noble part in the engagement; he was, besides, charged to hang five and twenty flags, taken from the Lorraine party, as well as from the Spaniards, upon the arches of Notre Dame.
+
+Such news was decisive; it destroyed, in favor of the court, the struggle commenced with parliament. The motive given for all the taxes summarily imposed and to which the parliament had made opposition, was the necessity of sustaining the honor of France and the uncertain hope of beating the enemy. Now, since the affair of Nordlingen, they had experienced nothing but reverses; the parliament had a plea for calling Mazarin to account for imaginary victories, always promised, ever deferred; but this time there really had been fighting, a triumph and a complete one. And this all knew so well that it was a double victory for the court, a victory at home and abroad; so that even when the young king learned the news he exclaimed, “Ah, gentlemen of the parliament, we shall see what you will say now!” Upon which the queen had pressed the royal child to her heart, whose haughty and unruly sentiments were in such harmony with her own. A council was called on the same evening, but nothing transpired of what had been decided on. It was only known that on the following Sunday a Te Deum would be sung at Notre Dame in honor of the victory of Lens.
+
+The following Sunday, then, the Parisians arose with joy; at that period a Te Deum was a grand affair; this kind of ceremony had not then been abused and it produced a great effect. The shops were deserted, houses closed; every one wished to see the young king with his mother, and the famous Cardinal Mazarin whom they hated so much that no one wished to be deprived of his presence. Moreover, great liberty prevailed throughout the immense crowd; every opinion was openly expressed and chorused, so to speak, of coming insurrection, as the thousand bells of all the Paris churches rang out the Te Deum. The police belonging to the city being formed by the city itself, nothing threatening presented itself to disturb this concert of universal hatred or freeze the frequent scoffs of slanderous lips.
+
+Nevertheless, at eight o’clock in the morning the regiment of the queen’s guards, commanded by Guitant, under whom was his nephew Comminges, marched publicly, preceded by drums and trumpets, filing off from the Palais Royal as far as Notre Dame, a manoeuvre which the Parisians witnessed tranquilly, delighted as they were with military music and brilliant uniforms.
+
+Friquet had put on his Sunday clothes, under the pretext of having a swollen face which he had managed to simulate by introducing a handful of cherry kernels into one side of his mouth, and had procured a whole holiday from Bazin. On leaving Bazin, Friquet started off to the Palais Royal, where he arrived at the moment of the turning out of the regiment of guards; and as he had only gone there for the enjoyment of seeing it and hearing the music, he took his place at their head, beating the drum on two pieces of slate and passing from that exercise to that of the trumpet, which he counterfeited quite naturally with his mouth in a manner which had more than once called forth the praises of amateurs of imitative harmony.
+
+This amusement lasted from the Barriere des Sergens to the place of Notre Dame, and Friquet found in it very real enjoyment; but when at last the regiment separated, penetrated the heart of the city and placed itself at the extremity of the Rue Saint Christophe, near the Rue Cocatrix, in which Broussel lived, then Friquet remembered that he had not had breakfast; and after thinking in which direction he had better turn his steps in order to accomplish this important act of the day, he reflected deeply and decided that Councillor Broussel should bear the cost of this repast.
+
+In consequence he took to his heels, arrived breathlessly at the councillor’s door, and knocked violently.
+
+His mother, the councillor’s old servant, opened it.
+
+“What doest thou here, good-for-nothing?” she said, “and why art thou not at Notre Dame?”
+
+“I have been there, mother,” said Friquet, “but I saw things happen of which Master Broussel ought to be warned, and so with Monsieur Bazin’s permission — you know, mother, Monsieur Bazin, the verger — I came to speak to Monsieur Broussel.”
+
+“And what hast thou to say, boy, to Monsieur Broussel?”
+
+“I wish to tell him,” replied Friquet, screaming with all his might, “that there is a whole regiment of guards coming this way. And as I hear everywhere that at the court they are ill-disposed to him, I wish to warn him, that he may be on his guard.”
+
+Broussel heard the scream of the young oddity, and, enchanted with this excess of zeal, came down to the first floor, for he was, in truth, working in his room on the second.
+
+“Well,” said he, “friend, what matters the regiment of guards to us, and art thou not mad to make such a disturbance? Knowest thou not that it is the custom of these soldiers to act thus and that it is usual for the regiment to form themselves into two solid walls when the king goes by?”
+
+Friquet counterfeited surprise, and twisting his new cap around in his fingers, said:
+
+“It is not astonishing for you to know it, Monsieur Broussel, who knows everything; but as for me, by holy truth, I did not know it and I thought I would give you good advice; you must not be angry with me for that, Monsieur Broussel.”
+
+“On the contrary, my boy, on the contrary, I am pleased with your zeal. Dame Nanette, look for those apricots which Madame de Longueville sent to us yesterday from Noisy and give half a dozen of them to your son, with a crust of new bread.”
+
+“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, Monsieur Broussel,” said Friquet; “I am so fond of apricots!”
+
+Broussel then proceeded to his wife’s room and asked for breakfast; it was nine o’clock. The councillor placed himself at the window; the street was completely deserted, but in the distance was heard, like the noise of the tide rushing in, the deep hum of the populous waves increasing now around Notre Dame.
+
+This noise redoubled when D’Artagnan, with a company of musketeers, placed himself at the gates of Notre Dame to secure the service of the church. He had instructed Porthos to profit by this opportunity to see the ceremony; and Porthos, in full dress, mounted his finest horse, taking the part of supernumerary musketeer, as D’Artagnan had so often done formerly. The sergeant of this company, a veteran of the Spanish wars, had recognized Porthos, his old companion, and very soon all those who served under him were placed in possession of startling facts concerning the honor of the ancient musketeers of Tréville. Porthos had not only been well received by the company, but he was moreover looked on with great admiration.
+
+At ten o’clock the guns of the Louvre announced the departure of the king, and then a movement, similar to that of trees in a stormy wind that bend and writhe with agitated tops, ran though the multitude, which was compressed behind the immovable muskets of the guard. At last the king appeared with the queen in a gilded chariot. Ten other carriages followed, containing the ladies of honor, the officers of the royal household, and the court.
+
+“God save the king!” was the cry in every direction; the young monarch gravely put his head out of the window, looked sufficiently grateful and even bowed; at which the cries of the multitude were renewed.
+
+Just as the court was settling down in the cathedral, a carriage, bearing the arms of Comminges, quitted the line of the court carriages and proceeded slowly to the end of the Rue Saint Christophe, now entirely deserted. When it arrived there, four guards and a police officer, who accompanied it, mounted into the heavy machine and closed the shutters; then through an opening cautiously made, the policeman began to watch the length of the Rue Cocatrix, as if he was waiting for some one.
+
+All the world was occupied with the ceremony, so that neither the chariot nor the precautions taken by those who were within it had been observed. Friquet, whose eye, ever on the alert, could alone have discovered them, had gone to devour his apricots upon the entablature of a house in the square of Notre Dame. Thence he saw the king, the queen and Monsieur Mazarin, and heard the mass as well as if he had been on duty.
+
+Toward the end of the service, the queen, seeing Comminges standing near her, waiting for a confirmation of the order she had given him before quitting the Louvre, said in a whisper:
+
+“Go, Comminges, and may God aid you!”
+
+Comminges immediately left the church and entered the Rue Saint Christophe. Friquet, seeing this fine officer thus walk away, followed by two guards, amused himself by pursuing them and did this so much the more gladly as the ceremony ended at that instant and the king remounted his carriage.
+
+Hardly had the police officer observed Comminges at the end of the Rue Cocatrix when he said one word to the coachman, who at once put his vehicle into motion and drove up before Broussel’s door. Comminges knocked at the door at the same moment, and Friquet was waiting behind Comminges until the door should be opened.
+
+“What dost thou there, rascal?” asked Comminges.
+
+“I want to go into Master Broussel’s house, captain,” replied Friquet, in that wheedling way the “gamins” of Paris know so well how to assume when necessary.
+
+“And on what floor does he live?” asked Comminges.
+
+“In the whole house,” said Friquet; “the house belongs to him; he occupies the second floor when he works and descends to the first to take his meals; he must be at dinner now; it is noon.”
+
+“Good,” said Comminges.
+
+At this moment the door was opened, and having questioned the servant the officer learned that Master Broussel was at home and at dinner.
+
+Broussel was seated at the table with his family, having his wife opposite to him, his two daughters by his side, and his son, Louvieres, whom we have already seen when the accident happened to the councillor — an accident from which he had quite recovered — at the bottom of the table. The worthy man, restored to perfect health, was tasting the fine fruit which Madame de Longueville had sent to him.
+
+At sight of the officer Broussel was somewhat moved, but seeing him bow politely he rose and bowed also. Still, in spite of this reciprocal politeness, the countenances of the women betrayed a certain amount of uneasiness; Louvieres became very pale and waited impatiently for the officer to explain himself.
+
+“Sir,” said Comminges, “I am the bearer of an order from the king.”
+
+“Very well, sir,” replied Broussel, “what is this order?” And he held out his hand.
+
+“I am commissioned to seize your person, sir,” said Comminges, in the same tone and with the same politeness; “and if you will believe me you had better spare yourself the trouble of reading that long letter and follow me.”
+
+A thunderbolt falling in the midst of these good people, so peacefully assembled there, would not have produced a more appalling effect. It was a horrible thing at that period to be imprisoned by the enmity of the king. Louvieres sprang forward to snatch his sword, which stood against a chair in a corner of the room; but a glance from the worthy Broussel, who in the midst of it all did not lose his presence of mind, checked this foolhardy action of despair. Madame Broussel, separated by the width of the table from her husband, burst into tears, and the young girls clung to their father’s arms.
+
+“Come, sir,” said Comminges, “make haste; you must obey the king.”
+
+“Sir,” said Broussel, “I am in bad health and cannot give myself up a prisoner in this state; I must have time.”
+
+“It is impossible,” said Comminges; “the order is strict and must be put into execution this instant.”
+
+“Impossible!” said Louvieres; “sir, beware of driving us to despair.”
+
+“Impossible!” cried a shrill voice from the end of the room.
+
+Comminges turned and saw Dame Nanette, her eyes flashing with anger and a broom in her hand.
+
+“My good Nanette, be quiet, I beseech you,” said Broussel.
+
+“Me! keep quiet while my master is being arrested! he, the support, the liberator, the father of the people! Ah! well, yes; you have to know me yet. Are you going?” added she to Comminges.
+
+The latter smiled.
+
+“Come, sir,” said he, addressing Broussel, “silence that woman and follow me.”
+
+“Silence me! me! me!” said Nanette. “Ah! yet one wants some one besides you for that, my fine king’s cockatoo! You shall see.” And Dame Nanette sprang to the window, threw it open, and in such a piercing voice that it might have been heard in the square of Notre Dame:
+
+“Help!” she screamed, “my master is being arrested; the Councillor Broussel is being arrested! Help!”
+
+“Sir,” said Comminges, “declare yourself at once; will you obey or do you intend to rebel against the king?”
+
+“I obey, I obey, sir!” cried Broussel, trying to disengage himself from the grasp of his two daughters and by a look restrain his son, who seemed determined to dispute authority.
+
+“In that case,” commanded Comminges, “silence that old woman.”
+
+“Ah! old woman!” screamed Nanette.
+
+And she began to shriek more loudly, clinging to the bars of the window:
+
+“Help! help! for Master Broussel, who is arrested because he has defended the people! Help!”
+
+Comminges seized the servant around the waist and would have dragged her from her post; but at that instant a treble voice, proceeding from a kind of entresol, was heard screeching:
+
+“Murder! fire! assassins! Master Broussel is being killed! Master Broussel is being strangled.”
+
+It was Friquet’s voice; and Dame Nanette, feeling herself supported, recommenced with all her strength to sound her shrilly squawk.
+
+Many curious faces had already appeared at the windows and the people attracted to the end of the street began to run, first men, then groups, and then a crowd of people; hearing cries and seeing a chariot they could not understand it; but Friquet sprang from the entresol on to the top of the carriage.
+
+“They want to arrest Master Broussel!” he cried; “the guards are in the carriage and the officer is upstairs!”
+
+The crowd began to murmur and approached the house. The two guards who had remained in the lane mounted to the aid of Comminges; those who were in the chariot opened the doors and presented arms.
+
+“Don’t you see them?” cried Friquet, “don’t you see? there they are!”
+
+The coachman turning around, gave Friquet a slash with his whip which made him scream with pain.
+
+“Ah! devil’s coachman!” cried Friquet, “you’re meddling too! Wait!”
+
+And regaining his entresol he overwhelmed the coachman with every projectile he could lay hands on.
+
+The tumult now began to increase; the street was not able to contain the spectators who assembled from every direction; the crowd invaded the space which the dreaded pikes of the guards had till then kept clear between them and the carriage. The soldiers, pushed back by these living walls, were in danger of being crushed against the spokes of the wheels and the panels of the carriages. The cries which the police officer repeated twenty times: “In the king’s name,” were powerless against this formidable multitude — seemed, on the contrary, to exasperate it still more; when, at the shout, “In the name of the king,” an officer ran up, and seeing the uniforms ill-treated, he sprang into the scuffle sword in hand, and brought unexpected help to the guards. This gentleman was a young man, scarcely sixteen years of age, now white with anger. He leaped from his charger, placed his back against the shaft of the carriage, making a rampart of his horse, drew his pistols from their holsters and fastened them to his belt, and began to fight with the back sword, like a man accustomed to the handling of his weapon.
+
+During ten minutes he alone kept the crowd at bay; at last Comminges appeared, pushing Broussel before him.
+
+“Let us break the carriage!” cried the people.
+
+“In the king’s name!” cried Comminges.
+
+“The first who advances is a dead man!” cried Raoul, for it was in fact he, who, feeling himself pressed and almost crushed by a gigantic citizen, pricked him with the point of his sword and sent him howling back.
+
+Comminges, so to speak, threw Broussel into the carriage and sprang in after him. At this moment a shot was fired and a ball passed through the hat of Comminges and broke the arm of one of the guards. Comminges looked up and saw amidst the smoke the threatening face of Louvieres appearing at the window of the second floor.
+
+“Very well, sir,” said Comminges, “you shall hear of this anon.”
+
+“And you of me, sir,” said Louvieres; “and we shall see then who can speak the loudest.”
+
+Friquet and Nanette continued to shout; the cries, the noise of the shot and the intoxicating smell of powder produced their usual maddening effects.
+
+“Down with the officer! down with him!” was the cry.
+
+“One step nearer,” said Comminges, putting down the sashes, that the interior of the carriage might be well seen, and placing his sword on his prisoner’s breast, “one step nearer, and I kill the prisoner; my orders were to carry him off alive or dead. I will take him dead, that’s all.”
+
+A terrible cry was heard, and the wife and daughters of Broussel held up their hands in supplication to the people; the latter knew that this officer, who was so pale, but who appeared so determined, would keep his word; they continued to threaten, but they began to disperse.
+
+“Drive to the palace,” said Comminges to the coachman, who was by then more dead than alive.
+
+The man whipped his animals, which cleared a way through the crowd; but on arriving on the Quai they were obliged to stop; the carriage was upset, the horses carried off, stifled, mangled by the crowd. Raoul, on foot, for he had not time to mount his horse again, tired, like the guards, of distributing blows with the flat of his sword, had recourse to its point. But this last and dreaded resource served only to exasperate the multitude. From time to time a shot from a musket or the blade of a rapier flashed among the crowd; projectiles continued to hail down from the windows and some shots were heard, the echo of which, though they were probably fired in the air, made all hearts vibrate. Voices, unheard except on days of revolution, were distinguished; faces were seen that only appeared on days of bloodshed. Cries of “Death! death to the guards! to the Seine with the officer!” were heard above all the noise, deafening as it was. Raoul, his hat in ribbons, his face bleeding, felt not only his strength but also his reason going; a red mist covered his sight, and through this mist he saw a hundred threatening arms stretched over him, ready to seize upon him when he fell. The guards were unable to help any one — each one was occupied with his self-preservation. All was over; carriages, horses, guards, and perhaps even the prisoner were about to be torn to shreds, when all at once a voice well known to Raoul was heard, and suddenly a great sword glittered in the air; at the same time the crowd opened, upset, trodden down, and an officer of the musketeers, striking and cutting right and left, rushed up to Raoul and took him in his arms just as he was about to fall.
+
+“God’s blood!” cried the officer, “have they killed him? Woe to them if it be so!”
+
+And he turned around, so stern with anger, strength and threat, that the most excited rebels hustled back on one another, in order to escape, and some of them even rolled into the Seine.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” murmured Raoul.
+
+“Yes, ‘sdeath! in person, and fortunately it seems for you, my young friend. Come on, here, you others,” he continued, rising in his stirrups, raising his sword, and addressing those musketeers who had not been able to follow his rapid onslaught. “Come, sweep away all that for me! Shoulder muskets! Present arms! Aim — — ”
+
+At this command the mountain of populace thinned so suddenly that D’Artagnan could not repress a burst of Homeric laughter.
+
+“Thank you, D’Artagnan,” said Comminges, showing half of his body through the window of the broken vehicle, “thanks, my young friend; your name — that I may mention it to the queen.”
+
+Raoul was about to reply when D’Artagnan bent down to his ear.
+
+“Hold your tongue,” said he, “and let me answer. Do not lose time, Comminges,” he continued; “get out of the carriage if you can and make another draw up; be quick, or in five minutes the mob will be on us again with swords and muskets and you will be killed. Hold! there’s a carriage coming over yonder.”
+
+Then bending again to Raoul, he whispered: “Above all things do not divulge your name.”
+
+“That’s right. I will go,” said Comminges; “and if they come back, fire!”
+
+“Not at all — not at all,” replied D’Artagnan; “let no one move. On the contrary, one shot at this moment would be paid for dearly to-morrow.”
+
+Comminges took his four guards and as many musketeers and ran to the carriage, from which he made the people inside dismount, and brought them to the vehicle which had upset. But when it was necessary to convey the prisoner from one carriage to the other, the people, catching sight of him whom they called their liberator, uttered every imaginable cry and knotted themselves once more around the vehicle.
+
+“Start, start!” said D’Artagnan. “There are ten men to accompany you. I will keep twenty to hold in check the mob; go, and lose not a moment. Ten men for Monsieur de Comminges.”
+
+As the carriage started off the cries were redoubled and more than ten thousand people thronged the Quai and overflowed the Pont Neuf and adjacent streets. A few shots were fired and one musketeer was wounded.
+
+“Forward!” cried D’Artagnan, driven to extremities, biting his moustache; and then he charged with his twenty men and dispersed them in fear. One man alone remained in his place, gun in hand.
+
+“Ah!” he exclaimed, “it is thou who wouldst have him assassinated? Wait an instant.” And he pointed his gun at D’Artagnan, who was riding toward him at full speed. D’Artagnan bent down to his horse’s neck, the young man fired, and the ball severed the feathers from the hat. The horse started, brushed against the imprudent man, who thought by his strength alone to stay the tempest, and he fell against the wall. D’Artagnan pulled up his horse, and whilst his musketeers continued to charge, he returned and bent with drawn sword over the man he had knocked down.
+
+“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Raoul, recognizing the young man as having seen him in the Rue Cocatrix, “spare him! it is his son!”
+
+D’Artagnan’s arm dropped to his side. “Ah, you are his son!” he said; “that is a different thing.”
+
+“Sir, I surrender,” said Louvieres, presenting his unloaded musket to the officer.
+
+“Eh, no! do not surrender, egad! On the contrary, be off, and quickly. If I take you, you will be hung!”
+
+The young man did not wait to be told twice, but passing under the horse’s head disappeared at the corner of the Rue Guenegaud.
+
+“I’faith!” said D’Artagnan to Raoul, “you were just in time to stay my hand. He was a dead man; and on my honor, if I had discovered that it was his son, I should have regretted having killed him.”
+
+“Ah! sir!” said Raoul, “allow me, after thanking you for that poor fellow’s life, to thank you on my own account. I too, sir, was almost dead when you arrived.”
+
+“Wait, wait, young man; do not fatigue yourself with speaking. We can talk of it afterward.”
+
+Then seeing that the musketeers had cleared the Quai from the Pont Neuf to the Quai Saint Michael, he raised his sword for them to double their speed. The musketeers trotted up, and at the same time the ten men whom D’Artagnan had given to Comminges appeared.
+
+“Halloo!” cried D’Artagnan; “has something fresh happened?”
+
+“Eh, sir!” replied the sergeant, “their vehicle has broken down a second time; it really must be doomed.”
+
+“They are bad managers,” said D’Artagnan, shrugging his shoulders. “When a carriage is chosen, it ought to be strong. The carriage in which a Broussel is to be arrested ought to be able to bear ten thousand men.”
+
+“What are your commands, lieutenant?”
+
+“Take the detachment and conduct him to his place.”
+
+“But you will be left alone?”
+
+“Certainly. So you suppose I have need of an escort? Go.”
+
+The musketeers set off and D’Artagnan was left alone with Raoul.
+
+“Now,” he said, “are you in pain?”
+
+“Yes; my head is not only swimming but burning.”
+
+“What’s the matter with this head?” said D’Artagnan, raising the battered hat. “Ah! ah! a bruise.”
+
+“Yes, I think I received a flower-pot upon my head.”
+
+“Brutes!” said D’Artagnan. “But were you not on horseback? you have spurs.”
+
+“Yes, but I got down to defend Monsieur de Comminges and my horse was taken away. Here it is, I see.”
+
+At this very moment Friquet passed, mounted on Raoul’s horse, waving his parti-colored cap and crying, “Broussel! Broussel!”
+
+“Halloo! stop, rascal!” cried D’Artagnan. “Bring hither that horse.”
+
+Friquet heard perfectly, but he pretended not to do so and tried to continue his road. D’Artagnan felt inclined for an instant to pursue Master Friquet, but not wishing to leave Raoul alone he contented himself with taking a pistol from the holster and cocking it.
+
+Friquet had a quick eye and a fine ear. He saw D’Artagnan’s movement, heard the sound of the click, and stopped at once.
+
+“Ah! it is you, your honor,” he said, advancing toward D’Artagnan; “and I am truly pleased to meet you.”
+
+D’Artagnan looked attentively at Friquet and recognized the little chorister of the Rue de la Calandre.
+
+“Ah! ’tis thou, rascal!” said he, “come here: so thou hast changed thy trade; thou art no longer a choir boy nor a tavern boy; thou hast become a horse stealer?”
+
+“Ah, your honor, how can you say so?” exclaimed Friquet. “I was seeking the gentleman to whom this horse belongs — an officer, brave and handsome as a youthful Caesar;” then, pretending to see Raoul for the first time:
+
+“Ah! but if I mistake not,” continued he, “here he is; you won’t forget the boy, sir.”
+
+Raoul put his hand in his pocket.
+
+“What are you about?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“To give ten francs to this honest fellow,” replied Raoul, taking a pistole from his pocket.
+
+“Ten kicks on his back!” said D’Artagnan; “be off, you little villain, and forget not that I have your address.”
+
+Friquet, who did not expect to be let off so cheaply, bounded off like a gazelle up the Quai a la Rue Dauphine, and disappeared. Raoul mounted his horse, and both leisurely took their way to the Rue Tiquetonne.
+
+D’Artagnan watched over the youth as if he had been his own son.
+
+They arrived without accident at the Hotel de la Chevrette.
+
+The handsome Madeleine announced to D’Artagnan that Planchet had returned, bringing Mousqueton with him, who had heroically borne the extraction of the ball and was as well as his state would permit.
+
+D’Artagnan desired Planchet to be summoned, but he had disappeared.
+
+“Then bring some wine,” said D’Artagnan. “You are much pleased with yourself,” said he to Raoul when they were alone, “are you not?”
+
+“Well, yes,” replied Raoul. “It seems to me I did my duty. I defended the king.”
+
+“And who told you to defend the king?”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere himself.”
+
+“Yes, the king; but to-day you have not fought for the king, you have fought for Mazarin; which is not quite the same thing.”
+
+“But you yourself?”
+
+“Oh, for me; that is another matter. I obey my captain’s orders. As for you, your captain is the prince, understand that rightly; you have no other. But has one ever seen such a wild fellow,” continued he, “making himself a Mazarinist and helping to arrest Broussel! Breathe not a word of that, or the Comte de la Fere will be furious.”
+
+“You think the count will be angry with me?”
+
+“Think it? I’m certain of it; were it not for that, I should thank you, for you have worked for us. However, I scold you instead of him, and in his place; the storm will blow over more easily, believe me. And moreover, my dear child,” continued D’Artagnan, “I am making use of the privilege conceded to me by your guardian.”
+
+“I do not understand you, sir,” said Raoul.
+
+D’Artagnan rose, and taking a letter from his writing-desk, presented it to Raoul. The face of the latter became serious when he had cast his eyes upon the paper.
+
+“Oh, mon Dieu!” he said, raising his fine eyes to D’Artagnan, moist with tears, “the count has left Paris without seeing me?”
+
+“He left four days ago,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“But this letter seems to intimate that he is about to incur danger, perhaps death.”
+
+“He — he — incur danger of death! No, be not anxious; he is traveling on business and will return ere long. I hope you have no repugnance to accept me as your guardian in the interim.”
+
+“Oh, no, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Raoul, “you are such a brave gentleman and the Comte de la Fere has so much affection for you!”
+
+“Eh! Egad! love me too; I will not torment you much, but only on condition that you become a Frondist, my young friend, and a hearty Frondist, too.”
+
+“But can I continue to visit Madame de Chevreuse?”
+
+“I should say you could! and the coadjutor and Madame de Longueville; and if the worthy Broussel were there, whom you so stupidly helped arrest, I should tell you to excuse yourself to him at once and kiss him on both cheeks.”
+
+“Well, sir, I will obey you, although I do not understand you.”
+
+“It is unnecessary for you to understand. Hold,” continued D’Artagnan, turning toward the door, which had just opened, “here is Monsieur du Vallon, who comes with his coat torn.”
+
+“Yes, but in exchange,” said Porthos, covered with perspiration and soiled by dust, “in exchange, I have torn many skins. Those wretches wanted to take away my sword! Deuce take ’em, what a popular commotion!” continued the giant, in his quiet manner; “but I knocked down more than twenty with the hilt of Balizarde. A draught of wine, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Oh, I’ll answer for you,” said the Gascon, filling Porthos’s glass to the brim; “but when you have drunk, give me your opinion.”
+
+“Upon what?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Look here,” resumed D’Artagnan; “here is Monsieur de Bragelonne, who determined at all risks to aid the arrest of Broussel and whom I had great difficulty to prevent defending Monsieur de Comminges.”
+
+“The devil!” said Porthos; “and his guardian, what would he have said to that?”
+
+“Do you hear?” interrupted D’Artagnan; “become a Frondist, my friend, belong to the Fronde, and remember that I fill the count’s place in everything;” and he jingled his money.
+
+“Will you come?” said he to Porthos.
+
+“Where?” asked Porthos, filling a second glass of wine.
+
+“To present our respects to the cardinal.”
+
+Porthos swallowed the second glass with the same grace with which he had imbibed the first, took his beaver and followed D’Artagnan. As for Raoul, he remained bewildered with what he had seen, having been forbidden by D’Artagnan to leave the room until the tumult was over.
+
+Chapter XLV. The Beggar of St. Eustache.
+
+D’Artagnan had calculated that in not going at once to the Palais Royal he would give Comminges time to arrive before him, and consequently to make the cardinal acquainted with the eminent services which he, D’Artagnan, and his friend had rendered to the queen’s party in the morning.
+
+They were indeed admirably received by Mazarin, who paid them numerous compliments, and announced that they were more than half on their way to obtain what they desired, namely, D’Artagnan his captaincy, Porthos his barony.
+
+D’Artagnan would have preferred money in hand to all that fine talk, for he knew well that to Mazarin it was easy to promise and hard to perform. But, though he held the cardinal’s promises as of little worth, he affected to be completely satisfied, for he was unwilling to discourage Porthos.
+
+Whilst the two friends were with the cardinal, the queen sent for him. Mazarin, thinking that it would be the means of increasing the zeal of his two defenders if he procured them personal thanks from the queen, motioned them to follow him. D’Artagnan and Porthos pointed to their dusty and torn dresses, but the cardinal shook his head.
+
+“Those costumes,” he said, “are of more worth than most of those which you will see on the backs of the queen’s courtiers; they are costumes of battle.”
+
+D’Artagnan and Porthos obeyed. The court of Anne of Austria was full of gayety and animation; for, after having gained a victory over the Spaniard, it had just gained another over the people. Broussel had been conducted out of Paris without further resistance, and was at this time in the prison of Saint Germain; while Blancmesnil, who was arrested at the same time, but whose arrest had been made without difficulty or noise, was safe in the Castle of Vincennes.
+
+Comminges was near the queen, who was questioning him upon the details of his expedition, and every one was listening to his account, when D’Artagnan and Porthos were perceived at the door, behind the cardinal.
+
+“Ah, madame,” said Comminges, hastening to D’Artagnan, “here is one who can tell you better than myself, for he was my protector. Without him I should probably at this moment be a dead fish in the nets at Saint Cloud, for it was a question of nothing less than throwing me into the river. Speak, D’Artagnan, speak.”
+
+D’Artagnan had been a hundred times in the same room with the queen since he had become lieutenant of the musketeers, but her majesty had never once spoken to him.
+
+“Well, sir,” at last said Anne of Austria, “you are silent, after rendering such a service?”
+
+“Madame,” replied D’Artagnan, “I have nought to say, save that my life is ever at your majesty’s service, and that I shall only be happy the day I lose it for you.”
+
+“I know that, sir; I have known that,” said the queen, “a long time; therefore I am delighted to be able thus publicly to mark my gratitude and my esteem.”
+
+“Permit me, madame,” said D’Artagnan, “to reserve a portion for my friend; like myself” (he laid an emphasis on these words) “an ancient musketeer of the company of Tréville; he has done wonders.”
+
+“His name?” asked the queen.
+
+“In the regiment,” said D’Artagnan, “he is called Porthos” (the queen started), “but his true name is the Chevalier du Vallon.”
+
+“De Bracieux de Pierrefonds,” added Porthos.
+
+“These names are too numerous for me to remember them all, and I will content myself with the first,” said the queen, graciously. Porthos bowed. At this moment the coadjutor was announced; a cry of surprise ran through the royal assemblage. Although the coadjutor had preached that same morning it was well known that he leaned much to the side of the Fronde; and Mazarin, in requesting the archbishop of Paris to make his nephew preach, had evidently had the intention of administering to Monsieur de Retz one of those Italian kicks he so much enjoyed giving.
+
+The fact was, in leaving Notre Dame the coadjutor had learned the event of the day. Although almost engaged to the leaders of the Fronde he had not gone so far but that retreat was possible should the court offer him the advantages for which he was ambitious and to which the coadjutorship was but a stepping-stone. Monsieur de Retz wished to become archbishop in his uncle’s place, and cardinal, like Mazarin; and the popular party could with difficulty accord him favors so entirely royal. He therefore hastened to the palace to congratulate the queen on the battle of Lens, determined beforehand to act with or against the court, as his congratulations were well or ill received.
+
+The coadjutor possessed, perhaps, as much wit as all those put together who were assembled at the court to laugh at him. His speech, therefore, was so well turned, that in spite of the great wish felt by the courtiers to laugh, they could find no point on which to vent their ridicule. He concluded by saying that he placed his feeble influence at her majesty’s command.
+
+During the whole time he was speaking, the queen appeared to be well pleased with the coadjutor’s harangue; but terminating as it did with such a phrase, the only one which could be caught at by the jokers, Anne turned around and directed a glance toward her favorites, which announced that she delivered up the coadjutor to their tender mercies. Immediately the wits of the court plunged into satire. Nogent-Beautin, the fool of the court, exclaimed that “the queen was very happy to have the succor of religion at such a moment.” This caused a universal burst of laughter. The Count de Villeroy said that “he did not know how any fear could be entertained for a moment, when the court had, to defend itself against the parliament and the citizens of Paris, his holiness the coadjutor, who by a signal could raise an army of curates, church porters and vergers.”
+
+The Marechal de la Meilleraie added that in case the coadjutor should appear on the field of battle it would be a pity that he should not be distinguished in the melee by wearing a red hat, as Henry IV. had been distinguished by his white plume at the battle of Ivry.
+
+During this storm, Gondy, who had it in his power to make it most unpleasant for the jesters, remained calm and stern. The queen at last asked him if he had anything to add to the fine discourse he had just made to her.
+
+“Yes, madame,” replied the coadjutor; “I have to beg you to reflect twice ere you cause a civil war in the kingdom.”
+
+The queen turned her back and the laughing recommenced.
+
+The coadjutor bowed and left the palace, casting upon the cardinal such a glance as is best understood by mortal foes. That glance was so sharp that it penetrated the heart of Mazarin, who, reading in it a declaration of war, seized D’Artagnan by the arm and said:
+
+“If occasion requires, monsieur, you will remember that man who has just gone out, will you not?”
+
+“Yes, my lord,” he replied. Then, turning toward Porthos, “The devil!” said he, “this has a bad look. I dislike these quarrels among men of the church.”
+
+Gondy withdrew, distributing benedictions on his way, and finding a malicious satisfaction in causing the adherents of his foes to prostrate themselves at his feet.
+
+“Oh!” he murmured, as he left the threshold of the palace: “ungrateful court! faithless court! cowardly court! I will teach you how to laugh to-morrow — but in another manner.”
+
+But whilst they were indulging in extravagant joy at the Palais Royal, to increase the hilarity of the queen, Mazarin, a man of sense, and whose fear, moreover, gave him foresight, lost no time in making idle and dangerous jokes; he went out after the coadjutor, settled his account, locked up his gold, and had confidential workmen to contrive hiding places in his walls.
+
+On his return home the coadjutor was informed that a young man had come in after his departure and was waiting for him; he started with delight when, on demanding the name of this young man, he learned that it was Louvieres. He hastened to his cabinet. Broussel’s son was there, still furious, and still bearing bloody marks of his struggle with the king’s officers. The only precaution he had taken in coming to the archbishopric was to leave his arquebuse in the hands of a friend.
+
+The coadjutor went to him and held out his hand. The young man gazed at him as if he would have read the secret of his heart.
+
+“My dear Monsieur Louvieres,” said the coadjutor, “believe me, I am truly concerned for the misfortune which has happened to you.”
+
+“Is that true, and do you speak seriously?” asked Louvieres.
+
+“From the depth of my heart,” said Gondy.
+
+“In that case, my lord, the time for words has passed and the hour for action is at hand; my lord, in three days, if you wish it, my father will be out of prison and in six months you may be cardinal.”
+
+The coadjutor started.
+
+“Oh! let us speak frankly,” continued Louvieres, “and act in a straightforward manner. Thirty thousand crowns in alms is not given, as you have done for the last six months, out of pure Christian charity; that would be too grand. You are ambitious — it is natural; you are a man of genius and you know your worth. As for me, I hate the court and have but one desire at this moment — vengeance. Give us the clergy and the people, of whom you can dispose, and I will bring you the citizens and the parliament; with these four elements Paris is ours in a week; and believe me, monsieur coadjutor, the court will give from fear what it will not give from good-will.”
+
+It was now the coadjutor’s turn to fix his piercing eyes on Louvieres.
+
+“But, Monsieur Louvieres, are you aware that it is simply civil war you are proposing to me?”
+
+“You have been preparing long enough, my lord, for it to be welcome to you now.”
+
+“Never mind,” said the coadjutor; “you must be well aware that this requires reflection.”
+
+“And how many hours of reflection do you ask?”
+
+“Twelve hours, sir; is it too long?”
+
+“It is now noon; at midnight I will be at your house.”
+
+“If I should not be in, wait for me.”
+
+“Good! at midnight, my lord.”
+
+“At midnight, my dear Monsieur Louvieres.”
+
+When once more alone Gondy sent to summon all the curates with whom he had any connection to his house. Two hours later, thirty officiating ministers from the most populous, and consequently the most disturbed parishes of Paris had assembled there. Gondy related to them the insults he had received at the Palais Royal and retailed the jests of Beautin, the Count de Villeroy and Marechal de la Meilleraie. The curates asked him what was to be done.
+
+“Simply this,” said the coadjutor. “You are the directors of all consciences. Well, undermine in them the miserable prejudice of respect and fear of kings; teach your flocks that the queen is a tyrant; and repeat often and loudly, so that all may know it, that the misfortunes of France are caused by Mazarin, her lover and her destroyer; begin this work to-day, this instant even, and in three days I shall expect the result. For the rest, if any one of you have further or better counsel to expound, I will listen to him with the greatest pleasure.”
+
+Three curates remained — those of St. Merri, St. Sulpice and St. Eustache. The others withdrew.
+
+“You think, then, that you can help me more efficaciously than your brothers?” said Gondy.
+
+“We hope so,” answered the curates.
+
+“Let us hear. Monsieur de St. Merri, you begin.”
+
+“My lord, I have in my parish a man who might be of the greatest use to you.”
+
+“Who and what is this man?”
+
+“A shopkeeper in the Rue des Lombards, who has great influence upon the commerce of his quarter.”
+
+“What is his name?”
+
+“He is named Planchet, who himself also caused a rising about six weeks ago; but as he was searched for after this emeute he disappeared.”
+
+“And can you find him?”
+
+“I hope so. I think he has not been arrested, and as I am his wife’s confessor, if she knows where he is I shall know it too.”
+
+“Very well, sir, find this man, and when you have found him bring him to me.”
+
+“We will be with you at six o’clock, my lord.”
+
+“Go, my dear curate, and may God assist you!”
+
+“And you, sir?” continued Gondy, turning to the curate of St. Sulpice.
+
+“I, my lord,” said the latter, “I know a man who has rendered great services to a very popular prince and who would make an excellent leader of revolt. Him I can place at your disposal; it is Count de Rochefort.”
+
+“I know him also, but unfortunately he is not in Paris.”
+
+“My lord, he has been for three days at the Rue Cassette.”
+
+“And wherefore has he not been to see me?”
+
+“He was told — my lord will pardon me — — ”
+
+“Certainly, speak.”
+
+“That your lordship was about to treat with the court.”
+
+Gondy bit his lips.
+
+“They are mistaken; bring him here at eight o’clock, sir, and may Heaven bless you as I bless you!”
+
+“And now ’tis your turn,” said the coadjutor, turning to the last that remained; “have you anything as good to offer me as the two gentlemen who have left us?”
+
+“Better, my lord.”
+
+“Diable! think what a solemn engagement you are making; one has offered a wealthy shopkeeper, the other a count; you are going, then, to offer a prince, are you?”
+
+“I offer you a beggar, my lord.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Gondy, reflecting, “you are right, sir; some one who could raise the legion of paupers who choke up the crossings of Paris; some one who would know how to cry aloud to them, that all France might hear it, that it is Mazarin who has reduced them to poverty.”
+
+“Exactly your man.”
+
+“Bravo! and the man?”
+
+“A plain and simple beggar, as I have said, my lord, who asks for alms, as he gives holy water; a practice he has carried on for six years on the steps of St. Eustache.”
+
+“And you say that he has a great influence over his compeers?”
+
+“Are you aware, my lord, that mendacity is an organized body, a kind of association of those who have nothing against those who have everything; an association in which every one takes his share; one that elects a leader?”
+
+“Yes, I have heard it said,” replied the coadjutor.
+
+“Well, the man whom I offer you is a general syndic.”
+
+“And what do you know of him?”
+
+“Nothing, my lord, except that he is tormented with remorse.”
+
+“What makes you think so?”
+
+“On the twenty-eighth of every month he makes me say a mass for the repose of the soul of one who died a violent death; yesterday I said this mass again.”
+
+“And his name?”
+
+“Maillard; but I do not think it is his right one.”
+
+“And think you that we should find him at this hour at his post?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Let us go and see your beggar, sir, and if he is such as you describe him, you are right — it will be you who have discovered the true treasure.”
+
+Gondy dressed himself as an officer, put on a felt cap with a red feather, hung on a long sword, buckled spurs to his boots, wrapped himself in an ample cloak and followed the curate.
+
+The coadjutor and his companion passed through all the streets lying between the archbishopric and the St. Eustache Church, watching carefully to ascertain the popular feeling. The people were in an excited mood, but, like a swarm of frightened bees, seemed not to know at what point to concentrate; and it was very evident that if leaders of the people were not provided all this agitation would pass off in idle buzzing.
+
+On arriving at the Rue des Prouvaires, the curate pointed toward the square before the church.
+
+“Stop!” he said, “there he is at his post.”
+
+Gondy looked at the spot indicated and perceived a beggar seated in a chair and leaning against one of the moldings; a little basin was near him and he held a holy water brush in his hand.
+
+“Is it by permission that he remains there?” asked Gondy.
+
+“No, my lord; these places are bought. I believe this man paid his predecessor a hundred pistoles for his.”
+
+“The rascal is rich, then?”
+
+“Some of those men sometimes die worth twenty thousand and twenty-five and thirty thousand francs and sometimes more.”
+
+“Hum!” said Gondy, laughing; “I was not aware my alms were so well invested.”
+
+In the meantime they were advancing toward the square, and the moment the coadjutor and the curate put their feet on the first church step the mendicant arose and proffered his brush.
+
+He was a man between sixty-six and sixty-eight years of age, little, rather stout, with gray hair and light eyes. His countenance denoted the struggle between two opposite principles — a wicked nature, subdued by determination, perhaps by repentance.
+
+He started on seeing the cavalier with the curate. The latter and the coadjutor touched the brush with the tips of their fingers and made the sign of the cross; the coadjutor threw a piece of money into the hat, which was on the ground.
+
+“Maillard,” began the curate, “this gentleman and I have come to talk with you a little.”
+
+“With me!” said the mendicant; “it is a great honor for a poor distributor of holy water.”
+
+There was an ironical tone in his voice which he could not quite disguise and which astonished the coadjutor.
+
+“Yes,” continued the curate, apparently accustomed to this tone, “yes, we wish to know your opinion of the events of to-day and what you have heard said by people going in and out of the church.”
+
+The mendicant shook his head.
+
+“These are melancholy doings, your reverence, which always fall again upon the poor. As to what is said, everybody is discontented, everybody complains, but ‘everybody’ means ‘nobody.’”
+
+“Explain yourself, my good friend,” said the coadjutor.
+
+“I mean that all these cries, all these complaints, these curses, produce nothing but storms and flashes and that is all; but the lightning will not strike until there is a hand to guide it.”
+
+“My friend,” said Gondy, “you seem to be a clever and a thoughtful man; are you disposed to take a part in a little civil war, should we have one, and put at the command of the leader, should we find one, your personal influence and the influence you have acquired over your comrades?”
+
+“Yes, sir, provided this war were approved of by the church and would advance the end I wish to attain — I mean, the remission of my sins.”
+
+“The war will not only be approved of, but directed by the church. As for the remission of your sins, we have the archbishop of Paris, who has the very greatest power at the court of Rome, and even the coadjutor, who possesses some plenary indulgences; we will recommend you to him.”
+
+“Consider, Maillard,” said the curate, “that I have recommended you to this gentleman, who is a powerful lord, and that I have made myself responsible for you.”
+
+“I know, monsieur le curé,” said the beggar, “that you have always been very kind to me, and therefore I, in my turn, will be serviceable to you.”
+
+“And do you think your power as great with the fraternity as monsieur le curé told me it was just now?”
+
+“I think they have some esteem for me,” said the mendicant with pride, “and that not only will they obey me, but wherever I go they will follow me.”
+
+“And could you count on fifty resolute men, good, unemployed, but active souls, brawlers, capable of bringing down the walls of the Palais Royal by crying, ‘Down with Mazarin,’ as fell those at Jericho?”
+
+“I think,” said the beggar, “I can undertake things more difficult and more important than that.”
+
+“Ah, ah,” said Gondy, “you will undertake, then, some night, to throw up some ten barricades?”
+
+“I will undertake to throw up fifty, and when the day comes, to defend them.”
+
+“I’faith!” exclaimed Gondy, “you speak with a certainty that gives me pleasure; and since monsieur le curé can answer for you — — ”
+
+“I answer for him,” said the curate.
+
+“Here is a bag containing five hundred pistoles in gold; make all your arrangements, and tell me where I shall be able to find you this evening at ten o’clock.”
+
+“It must be on some elevated place, whence a given signal may be seen in every part of Paris.”
+
+“Shall I give you a line for the vicar of St. Jacques de la Boucherie? he will let you into the rooms in his tower,” said the curate.
+
+“Capital,” answered the mendicant.
+
+“Then,” said the coadjutor, “this evening, at ten o’clock, and if I am pleased with you another bag of five hundred pistoles will be at your disposal.”
+
+The eyes of the mendicant dashed with cupidity, but he quickly suppressed his emotion.
+
+“This evening, sir,” he replied, “all will be ready.”
+
+Chapter XLVI. The Tower of St. Jacques de la Boucherie.
+
+At a quarter to six o’clock, Monsieur de Gondy, having finished his business, returned to the archiepiscopal palace.
+
+At six o’clock the curate of St. Merri was announced.
+
+The coadjutor glanced rapidly behind and saw that he was followed by another man. The curate then entered, followed by Planchet.
+
+“Your holiness,” said the curate, “here is the person of whom I had the honor to speak to you.”
+
+Planchet saluted in the manner of one accustomed to fine houses.
+
+“And you are disposed to serve the cause of the people?” asked Gondy.
+
+“Most undoubtedly,” said Planchet. “I am a Frondist from my heart. You see in me, such as I am, a person sentenced to be hung.”
+
+“And on what account?”
+
+“I rescued from the hands of Mazarin’s police a noble lord whom they were conducting back to the Bastile, where he had been for five years.”
+
+“Will you name him?”
+
+“Oh, you know him well, my lord — it is Count de Rochefort.”
+
+“Ah! really, yes,” said the coadjutor, “I have heard this affair mentioned. You raised the whole district, so they told me!”
+
+“Very nearly,” replied Planchet, with a self-satisfied air.
+
+“And your business is — — ”
+
+“That of a confectioner, in the Rue des Lombards.”
+
+“Explain to me how it happens that, following so peaceful a business, you had such warlike inclinations.”
+
+“Why does my lord, belonging to the church, now receive me in the dress of an officer, with a sword at his side and spurs to his boots?”
+
+“Not badly answered, i’faith,” said Gondy, laughing; “but I have, you must know, always had, in spite of my bands, warlike inclinations.”
+
+“Well, my lord, before I became a confectioner I myself was three years sergeant in the Piedmontese regiment, and before I became sergeant I was for eighteen months the servant of Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“The lieutenant of musketeers?” asked Gondy.
+
+“Himself, my lord.”
+
+“But he is said to be a furious Mazarinist.”
+
+“Phew!” whistled Planchet.
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+“Nothing, my lord; Monsieur d’Artagnan belongs to the service; Monsieur d’Artagnan makes it his business to defend the cardinal, who pays him, as much as we make it ours, we citizens, to attack him, whom he robs.”
+
+“You are an intelligent fellow, my friend; can we count upon you?”
+
+“You may count upon me, my lord, provided you want to make a complete upheaval of the city.”
+
+“’Tis that exactly. How many men, think you, you could collect together to-night?”
+
+“Two hundred muskets and five hundred halberds.”
+
+“Let there be only one man in every district who can do as much and by to-morrow we shall have quite a powerful army. Are you disposed to obey Count de Rochefort?”
+
+“I would follow him to hell, and that is saying not a little, as I believe him entirely capable of the descent.”
+
+“Bravo!”
+
+“By what sign to-morrow shall we be able to distinguish friends from foes?”
+
+“Every Frondist must put a knot of straw in his hat.”
+
+“Good! Give the watchword.”
+
+“Do you want money?”
+
+“Money never comes amiss at any time, my lord; if one has it not, one must do without it; with it, matters go on much better and more rapidly.”
+
+Gondy went to a box and drew forth a bag.
+
+“Here are five hundred pistoles,” he said; “and if the action goes off well you may reckon upon a similar sum to-morrow.”
+
+“I will give a faithful account of the sum to your lordship,” said Planchet, putting the bag under his arm.
+
+“That is right; I recommend the cardinal to your attention.”
+
+“Make your mind easy, he is in good hands.”
+
+Planchet went out, the curate remaining for a moment.
+
+“Are you satisfied, my lord?” he asked.
+
+“Yes; he appears to be a resolute fellow.”
+
+“Well, he will do more than he has promised.”
+
+“He will do wonders then.”
+
+The curate rejoined Planchet, who was waiting for him on the stairs. Ten minutes later the curate of St. Sulpice was announced. As soon as the door of Gondy’s study was opened a man rushed in. It was the Count de Rochefort.
+
+“’Tis you, then, my dear count,” cried Gondy, offering his hand.
+
+“You have made up your mind at last, my lord?” said Rochefort.
+
+“It has been made up a long time,” said Gondy.
+
+“Let us say no more on the subject; you tell me so, I believe you. Well, we are going to give a ball to Mazarin.”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“And when will the dance begin?”
+
+“The invitations are given for this evening,” said the coadjutor, “but the violins will not begin to play until to-morrow morning.”
+
+“You may reckon upon me and upon fifty soldiers which the Chevalier d’Humieres has promised me whenever I need them.”
+
+“Upon fifty soldiers?”
+
+“Yes, he is making recruits and he will lend them to me; if any are missing when the fete is over, I shall replace them.”
+
+“Good, my dear Rochefort; but that is not all. What have you done with Monsieur de Beaufort?”
+
+“He is in Vendome, where he will wait until I write to him to return to Paris.”
+
+“Write to him; now’s the time.”
+
+“You are sure of your enterprise?”
+
+“Yes, but he must make haste; for hardly will the people of Paris have revolted before we shall have a score of princes begging to lead them. If he defers he will find the place of honor taken.”
+
+“Shall I send word to him as coming from you?”
+
+“Yes certainly.”
+
+“Shall I tell him that he can count on you?”
+
+“To the end.”
+
+“And you will leave the command to him?”
+
+“Of the war, yes, but in politics — — ”
+
+“You must know it is not his element.”
+
+“He must leave me to negotiate for my cardinal’s hat in my own fashion.”
+
+“You care about it, then, so much?”
+
+“Since they force me to wear a hat of a form which does not become me,” said Gondy, “I wish at least that the hat should be red.”
+
+“One must not dispute matters of taste and colors,” said Rochefort, laughing. “I answer for his consent.”
+
+“How soon can he be here?”
+
+“In five days.”
+
+“Let him come and he will find a change, I will answer for it.”
+
+“Therefore, go and collect your fifty men and hold yourself in readiness.”
+
+“For what?”
+
+“For everything.”
+
+“Is there any signal for the general rally?”
+
+“A knot of straw in the hat.”
+
+“Very good. Adieu, my lord.”
+
+“Adieu, my dear Rochefort.”
+
+“Ah, Monsieur Mazarin, Monsieur Mazarin,” said Rochefort, leading off his curate, who had not found an opportunity of uttering a single word during the foregoing dialogue, “you will see whether I am too old to be a man of action.”
+
+It was half-past nine o’clock and the coadjutor required half an hour to go from the archbishop’s palace to the tower of St. Jacques de la Boucherie. He remarked that a light was burning in one of the highest windows of the tower. “Good,” said he, “our syndic is at his post.”
+
+He knocked and the door was opened. The vicar himself awaited him, conducted him to the top of the tower, and when there pointed to a little door, placed the light which he had brought with him in a corner of the wall, that the coadjutor might be able to find it on his return, and went down again. Although the key was in the door the coadjutor knocked.
+
+“Come in,” said a voice which he recognized as that of the mendicant, whom he found lying on a kind of truckle bed. He rose on the entrance of the coadjutor, and at that moment ten o’clock struck.
+
+“Well,” said Gondy, “have you kept your word with me?”
+
+“Not exactly,” replied the mendicant.
+
+“How is that?”
+
+“You asked me for five hundred men, did you not? Well, I have ten thousand for you.”
+
+“You are not boasting?”
+
+“Do you wish for a proof?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+There were three candles alight, each of which burnt before a window, one looking upon the city, the other upon the Palais Royal, and a third upon the Rue Saint Denis.
+
+The man went silently to each of the candles and blew them out one after the other.
+
+“What are you doing?” asked the coadjutor.
+
+“I have given the signal.”
+
+“For what?”
+
+“For the barricades. When you leave this you will behold my men at work. Only take care you do not break your legs in stumbling over some chain or your neck by falling in a hole.”
+
+“Good! there is your money, the same sum as that you have received already. Now remember that you are a general and do not go and drink.”
+
+“For twenty years I have tasted nothing but water.”
+
+The man took the bag from the hands of the coadjutor, who heard the sound of his fingers counting and handling the gold pieces.
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the coadjutor, “you are avaricious, my good fellow.”
+
+The mendicant sighed and threw down the bag.
+
+“Must I always be the same?” said he, “and shall I never succeed in overcoming the old leaven? Oh, misery, oh, vanity!”
+
+“You take it, however.”
+
+“Yes, but I make hereby a vow in your presence, to employ all that remains to me in pious works.”
+
+His face was pale and drawn, like that of a man who had just undergone some inward struggle.
+
+“Singular man!” muttered Gondy, taking his hat to go away; but on turning around he saw the beggar between him and the door. His first idea was that this man intended to do him some harm, but on the contrary he saw him fall on his knees before him with his hands clasped.
+
+“Your blessing, your holiness, before you go, I beseech you!” he cried.
+
+“Your holiness!” said Gondy; “my friend, you take me for some one else.”
+
+“No, your holiness, I take you for what you are, that is to say, the coadjutor; I recognized you at the first glance.”
+
+Gondy smiled. “And you want my blessing?” he said.
+
+“Yes, I have need of it.”
+
+The mendicant uttered these words in a tone of such humility, such earnest repentance, that Gondy placed his hand upon him and gave him his benediction with all the unction of which he was capable.
+
+“Now,” said Gondy, “there is a communion between us. I have blessed you and you are sacred to me. Come, have you committed some crime, pursued by human justice, from which I can protect you?”
+
+The beggar shook his head. “The crime which I have committed, my lord, has no call upon human justice, and you can only deliver me from it by blessing me frequently, as you have just done.”
+
+“Come, be candid,” said the coadjutor, “you have not all your life followed the trade which you do now?”
+
+“No, my lord. I have pursued it for six years only.”
+
+“And previously, where were you?”
+
+“In the Bastile.”
+
+“And before you went to the Bastile?”
+
+“I will tell you, my lord, on the day when you are willing to hear my confession.”
+
+“Good! At whatsoever hour of the day or night you may present yourself, remember that I shall be ready to give you absolution.”
+
+“Thank you, my lord,” said the mendicant in a hoarse voice. “But I am not yet ready to receive it.”
+
+“Very well. Adieu.”
+
+“Adieu, your holiness,” said the mendicant, opening the door and bending low before the prelate.
+
+Chapter XLVII. The Riot.
+
+It was about eleven o’clock at night. Gondy had not walked a hundred steps ere he perceived the strange change which had been made in the streets of Paris.
+
+The whole city seemed peopled with fantastic beings; silent shadows were seen unpaving the streets and others dragging and upsetting great wagons, whilst others again dug ditches large enough to ingulf whole regiments of horsemen. These active beings flitted here and there like so many demons completing some unknown labor; these were the beggars of the Court of Miracles — the agents of the giver of holy water in the Square of Saint Eustache, preparing barricades for the morrow.
+
+Gondy gazed on these deeds of darkness, on these nocturnal laborers, with a kind of fear; he asked himself, if, after having called forth these foul creatures from their dens, he should have the power of making them retire again. He felt almost inclined to cross himself when one of these beings happened to approach him. He reached the Rue Saint Honore and went up it toward the Rue de la Ferronnerie; there the aspect changed; here it was the tradesmen who were running from shop to shop; their doors seemed closed like their shutters, but they were only pushed to in such a manner as to open and allow the men, who seemed fearful of showing what they carried, to enter, closing immediately. These men were shopkeepers, who had arms to lend to those who had none.
+
+One individual went from door to door, bending under the weight of swords, guns, muskets and every kind of weapon, which he deposited as fast as he could. By the light of a lantern the coadjutor recognized Planchet.
+
+The coadjutor proceeded onward to the quay by way of the Rue de la Monnaie; there he found groups of bourgeois clad in black cloaks or gray, according as they belonged to the upper or lower bourgeoisie. They were standing motionless, while single men passed from one group to another. All these cloaks, gray or black, were raised behind by the point of a sword, or before by the barrel of an arquebuse or a musket.
+
+On reaching the Pont Neuf the coadjutor found it strictly guarded and a man approached him.
+
+“Who are you?” asked the man. “I do not know you for one of us.”
+
+“Then it is because you do not know your friends, my dear Monsieur Louvieres,” said the coadjutor, raising his hat.
+
+Louvieres recognized him and bowed.
+
+Gondy continued his way and went as far as the Tour de Nesle. There he saw a lengthy chain of people gliding under the walls. They might be said to be a procession of ghosts, for they were all wrapped in white cloaks. When they reached a certain spot these men appeared to be annihilated, one after the other, as if the earth had opened under their feet. Gondy, edged into a corner, saw them vanish from the first until the last but one. The last raised his eyes, to ascertain, doubtless, that neither his companions nor himself had been watched, and, in spite of the darkness, he perceived Gondy. He walked straight up to him and placed a pistol to his throat.
+
+“Halloo! Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Gondy, laughing, “are you a boy to play with firearms?”
+
+Rochefort recognized the voice.
+
+“Ah, it is you, my lord!” said he.
+
+“The very same. What people are you leading thus into the bowels of the earth?”
+
+“My fifty recruits from the Chevalier d’Humieres, who are destined to enter the light cavalry and who have only received as yet for their equipment their white cloaks.”
+
+“And where are you going?”
+
+“To the house of one of my friends, a sculptor, only we enter by the trap through which he lets down his marble.”
+
+“Very good,” said Gondy, shaking Rochefort by the hand, who descended in his turn and closed the trap after him.
+
+It was now one o’clock in the morning and the coadjutor returned home. He opened a window and leaned out to listen. A strange, incomprehensible, unearthly sound seemed to pervade the whole city; one felt that something unusual and terrible was happening in all the streets, now dark as ocean’s most unfathomable caves. From time to time a dull sound was heard, like that of a rising tempest or a billow of the sea; but nothing clear, nothing distinct, nothing intelligible; it was like those mysterious subterraneous noises that precede an earthquake.
+
+The work of revolt continued the whole night thus. The next morning, on awaking, Paris seemed to be startled at her own appearance. It was like a besieged town. Armed men, shouldering muskets, watched over the barricades with menacing looks; words of command, patrols, arrests, executions, even, were encountered at every step. Those bearing plumed hats and gold swords were stopped and made to cry, “Long live Broussel!” “Down with Mazarin!” and whoever refused to comply with this ceremony was hooted at, spat upon and even beaten. They had not yet begun to slay, but it was well felt that the inclination to do so was not wanting.
+
+The barricades had been pushed as far as the Palais Royal. From the Rue de Bons Enfants to that of the Ferronnerie, from the Rue Saint Thomas-du-Louvre to the Pont Neuf, from the Rue Richelieu to the Porte Saint Honore, there were more than ten thousand armed men; those who were at the front hurled defiance at the impassive sentinels of the regiment of guards posted around the Palais Royal, the gates of which were closed behind them, a precaution which made their situation precarious. Among these thousands moved, in bands numbering from one hundred to two hundred, pale and haggard men, clothed in rags, who bore a sort of standard on which was inscribed these words: “Behold the misery of the people!” Wherever these men passed, frenzied cries were heard; and there were so many of these bands that the cries were to be heard in all directions.
+
+The astonishment of Mazarin and of Anne of Austria was great when it was announced to them that the city, which the previous evening they had left entirely tranquil, had awakened to such feverish commotion; nor would either the one or the other believe the reports that were brought to them, declaring they would rather rely on the evidence of their own eyes and ears. Then a window was opened and when they saw and heard they were convinced.
+
+Mazarin shrugged his shoulders and pretended to despise the populace; but he turned visibly pale and ran to his closet, trembling all over, locked up his gold and jewels in his caskets and put his finest diamonds on his fingers. As for the queen, furious, and left to her own guidance, she went for the Marechal de la Meilleraie and desired him to take as many men as he pleased and to go and see what was the meaning of this pleasantry.
+
+The marshal was ordinarily very adventurous and was wont to hesitate at nothing; and he had that lofty contempt for the populace which army officers usually profess. He took a hundred and fifty men and attempted to go out by the Pont du Louvre, but there he met Rochefort and his fifty horsemen, attended by more than five hundred men. The marshal made no attempt to force that barrier and returned up the quay. But at Pont Neuf he found Louvieres and his bourgeois. This time the marshal charged, but he was welcomed by musket shots, while stones fell like hail from all the windows. He left there three men.
+
+He beat a retreat toward the market, but there he met Planchet with his halberdiers; their halberds were leveled at him threateningly. He attempted to ride over those gray cloaks, but the gray cloaks held their ground and the marshal retired toward the Rue Saint Honore, leaving four of his guards dead on the field of battle.
+
+The marshal then entered the Rue Saint Honore, but there he was opposed by the barricades of the mendicant of Saint Eustache. They were guarded, not only by armed men, but even by women and children. Master Friquet, the owner of a pistol and of a sword which Louvieres had given him, had organized a company of rogues like himself and was making a tremendous racket.
+
+The marshal thought this barrier not so well fortified as the others and determined to break through it. He dismounted twenty men to make a breach in the barricade, whilst he and others, remaining on their horses, were to protect the assailants. The twenty men marched straight toward the barrier, but from behind the beams, from among the wagon-wheels and from the heights of the rocks a terrible fusillade burst forth and at the same time Planchet’s halberdiers appeared at the corner of the Cemetery of the Innocents, and Louvieres’s bourgeois at the corner of the Rue de la Monnaie.
+
+The Marechal de la Meilleraie was caught between two fires, but he was brave and made up his mind to die where he was. He returned blow for blow and cries of pain began to be heard in the crowd. The guards, more skillful, did greater execution; but the bourgeois, more numerous, overwhelmed them with a veritable hurricane of iron. Men fell around him as they had fallen at Rocroy or at Lerida. Fontrailles, his aide-de-camp, had an arm broken; his horse had received a bullet in his neck and he had difficulty in controlling him, maddened by pain. In short, he had reached that supreme moment when the bravest feel a shudder in their veins, when suddenly, in the direction of the Rue de l’Arbre-Sec, the crowd opened, crying: “Long live the coadjutor!” and Gondy, in surplice and cloak, appeared, moving tranquilly in the midst of the fusillade and bestowing his benedictions to the right and left, as undisturbed as if he were leading a procession of the Fete Dieu.
+
+All fell to their knees. The marshal recognized him and hastened to meet him.
+
+“Get me out of this, in Heaven’s name!” he said, “or I shall leave my carcass here and those of all my men.”
+
+A great tumult arose, in the midst of which even the noise of thunder could not have been heard. Gondy raised his hand and demanded silence. All were still.
+
+“My children,” he said, “this is the Marechal de la Meilleraie, as to whose intentions you have been deceived and who pledges himself, on returning to the Louvre, to demand of the queen, in your name, our Broussel’s release. You pledge yourself to that, marshal?” added Gondy, turning to La Meilleraie.
+
+“Morbleu!” cried the latter, “I should say that I do pledge myself to it! I had no hope of getting off so easily.”
+
+“He gives you his word of honor,” said Gondy.
+
+The marshal raised his hand in token of assent.
+
+“Long live the coadjutor!” cried the crowd. Some voices even added: “Long live the marshal!” But all took up the cry in chorus: “Down with Mazarin!”
+
+The crowd gave place, the barricade was opened, and the marshal, with the remnant of his company, retreated, preceded by Friquet and his bandits, some of them making a presence of beating drums and others imitating the sound of the trumpet. It was almost a triumphal procession; only, behind the guards the barricades were closed again. The marshal bit his fingers.
+
+In the meantime, as we have said, Mazarin was in his closet, putting his affairs in order. He called for D’Artagnan, but in the midst of such tumult he little expected to see him, D’Artagnan not being on service. In about ten minutes D’Artagnan appeared at the door, followed by the inseparable Porthos.
+
+“Ah, come in, come in, Monsieur d’Artagnan!” cried the cardinal, “and welcome your friend too. But what is going on in this accursed Paris?”
+
+“What is going on, my lord? nothing good,” replied D’Artagnan, shaking his head. “The town is in open revolt, and just now, as I was crossing the Rue Montorgueil with Monsieur du Vallon, who is here, and is your humble servant, they wanted in spite of my uniform, or perhaps because of my uniform, to make us cry ‘Long live Broussel!’ and must I tell you, my lord what they wished us to cry as well?”
+
+“Speak, speak.”
+
+“‘Down with Mazarin!’ I’faith, the treasonable word is out.”
+
+Mazarin smiled, but became very pale.
+
+“And you did cry?” he asked.
+
+“I’faith, no,” said D’Artagnan; “I was not in voice; Monsieur du Vallon has a cold and did not cry either. Then, my lord — — ”
+
+“Then what?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“Look at my hat and cloak.”
+
+And D’Artagnan displayed four gunshot holes in his cloak and two in his beaver. As for Porthos’s coat, a blow from a halberd had cut it open on the flank and a pistol shot had cut his feather in two.
+
+“Diavolo!” said the cardinal, pensively gazing at the two friends with lively admiration; “I should have cried, I should.”
+
+At this moment the tumult was heard nearer.
+
+Mazarin wiped his forehead and looked around him. He had a great desire to go to the window, but he dared not.
+
+“See what is going on, Monsieur D’Artagnan,” said he.
+
+D’Artagnan went to the window with his habitual composure. “Oho!” said he, “what is this? Marechal de la Meilleraie returning without a hat — Fontrailles with his arm in a sling — wounded guards — horses bleeding; eh, then, what are the sentinels about? They are aiming — they are going to fire!”
+
+“They have received orders to fire on the people if the people approach the Palais Royal!” exclaimed Mazarin.
+
+“But if they fire, all is lost!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“We have the gates.”
+
+“The gates! to hold for five minutes — the gates, they will be torn down, twisted into iron wire, ground to powder! God’s death, don’t fire!” screamed D’Artagnan, throwing open the window.
+
+In spite of this recommendation, which, owing to the noise, could scarcely have been heard, two or three musket shots resounded, succeeded by a terrible discharge. The balls might be heard peppering the facade of the Palais Royal, and one of them, passing under D’Artagnan’s arm, entered and broke a mirror, in which Porthos was complacently admiring himself.
+
+“Alack! alack!” cried the cardinal, “a Venetian glass!”
+
+“Oh, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, quietly shutting the window, “it is not worth while weeping yet, for probably an hour hence there will not be one of your mirrors remaining in the Palais Royal, whether they be Venetian or Parisian.”
+
+“But what do you advise, then?” asked Mazarin, trembling.
+
+“Eh, egad, to give up Broussel as they demand! What the devil do you want with a member of the parliament? He is of no earthly use to anybody.”
+
+“And you, Monsieur du Vallon, is that your advice? What would you do?”
+
+“I should give up Broussel,” said Porthos.
+
+“Come, come with me, gentlemen!” exclaimed Mazarin. “I will go and discuss the matter with the queen.”
+
+He stopped at the end of the corridor and said:
+
+“I can count upon you, gentlemen, can I not?”
+
+“We do not give ourselves twice over,” said D’Artagnan; “we have given ourselves to you; command, we shall obey.”
+
+“Very well, then,” said Mazarin; “enter this cabinet and wait till I come back.”
+
+And turning off he entered the drawing-room by another door.
+
+Chapter XLVIII. The Riot becomes a Revolution.
+
+The closet into which D’Artagnan and Porthos had been ushered was separated from the drawing-room where the queen was by tapestried curtains only, and this thin partition enabled them to hear all that passed in the adjoining room, whilst the aperture between the two hangings, small as it was, permitted them to see.
+
+The queen was standing in the room, pale with anger; her self-control, however, was so great that it might have been imagined that she was calm. Comminges, Villequier and Guitant were behind her and the women again were behind the men. The Chancellor Sequier, who twenty years previously had persecuted her so ruthlessly, stood before her, relating how his carriage had been smashed, how he had been pursued and had rushed into the Hotel d’O — — , that the hotel was immediately invaded, pillaged and devastated; happily he had time to reach a closet hidden behind tapestry, in which he was secreted by an old woman, together with his brother, the Bishop of Meaux. Then the danger was so imminent, the rioters came so near, uttering such threats, that the chancellor thought his last hour had come and confessed himself to his brother priest, so as to be all ready to die in case he was discovered. Fortunately, however, he had not been taken; the people, believing that he had escaped by some back entrance, retired and left him at liberty to retreat. Then, disguised in the clothes of the Marquis d’O — — , he had left the hotel, stumbling over the bodies of an officer and two guards who had been killed whilst defending the street door.
+
+During the recital Mazarin entered and glided noiselessly up to the queen to listen.
+
+“Well,” said the queen, when the chancellor had finished speaking; “what do you think of it all?”
+
+“I think that matters look very gloomy, madame.”
+
+“But what step would you propose to me?”
+
+“I could propose one to your majesty, but I dare not.”
+
+“You may, you may, sir,” said the queen with a bitter smile; “you were not so timid once.”
+
+The chancellor reddened and stammered some words.
+
+“It is not a question of the past, but of the present,” said the queen; “you said you could give me advice — what is it?”
+
+“Madame,” said the chancellor, hesitating, “it would be to release Broussel.”
+
+The queen, although already pale, became visibly paler and her face was contracted.
+
+“Release Broussel!” she cried, “never!”
+
+At this moment steps were heard in the ante-room and without any announcement the Marechal de la Meilleraie appeared at the door.
+
+“Ah, there you are, marechal,” cried Anne of Austria joyfully. “I trust you have brought this rabble to reason.”
+
+“Madame,” replied the marechal, “I have left three men on the Pont Neuf, four at the Halle, six at the corner of the Rue de l’Arbre-Sec and two at the door of your palace — fifteen in all. I have brought away ten or twelve wounded. I know not where I have left my hat, and in all probability I should have been left with my hat, had the coadjutor not arrived in time to rescue me.”
+
+“Ah, indeed,” said the queen, “it would have much astonished me if that low cur, with his distorted legs, had not been mixed up with all this.”
+
+“Madame,” said La Meilleraie, “do not say too much against him before me, for the service he rendered me is still fresh.”
+
+“Very good,” said the queen, “be as grateful as you like, it does not implicate me; you are here safe and sound, that is all I wished for; you are not only welcome, but welcome back.”
+
+“Yes, madame; but I only came back on one condition — that I would transmit to your majesty the will of the people.”
+
+“The will!” exclaimed the queen, frowning. “Oh! oh! monsieur marechal, you must indeed have found yourself in wondrous peril to have undertaken so strange a commission!”
+
+The irony with which these words were uttered did not escape the marechal.
+
+“Pardon, madame,” he said, “I am not a lawyer, I am a mere soldier, and probably, therefore, I do not quite comprehend the value of certain words; I ought to have said the wishes, and not the will, of the people. As for what you do me the honor to say, I presume you mean I was afraid?”
+
+The queen smiled.
+
+“Well, then, madame, yes, I did feel fear; and though I have been through twelve pitched battles and I cannot count how many charges and skirmishes, I own for the third time in my life I was afraid. Yes, and I would rather face your majesty, however threatening your smile, than face those demons who accompanied me hither and who sprung from I know not whence, unless from deepest hell.”
+
+(“Bravo,” said D’Artagnan in a whisper to Porthos; “well answered.”)
+
+“Well,” said the queen, biting her lips, whilst her courtiers looked at each other with surprise, “what is the desire of my people?”
+
+“That Broussel shall be given up to them, madame.”
+
+“Never!” said the queen, “never!”
+
+“Your majesty is mistress,” said La Meilleraie, retreating a few steps.
+
+“Where are you going, marechal?” asked the queen.
+
+“To give your majesty’s reply to those who await it.”
+
+“Stay, marechal; I will not appear to parley with rebels.”
+
+“Madame, I have pledged my word, and unless you order me to be arrested I shall be forced to return.”
+
+Anne of Austria’s eyes shot glances of fire.
+
+“Oh! that is no impediment, sir,” said she; “I have had greater men than you arrested — Guitant!”
+
+Mazarin sprang forward.
+
+“Madame,” said he, “if I dared in my turn advise — — ”
+
+“Would it be to give up Broussel, sir? If so, you can spare yourself the trouble.”
+
+“No,” said Mazarin; “although, perhaps, that counsel is as good as any other.”
+
+“Then what may it be?”
+
+“To call for monsieur le coadjuteur.”
+
+“The coadjutor!” cried the queen, “that dreadful mischief maker! It is he who has raised all this revolt.”
+
+“The more reason,” said Mazarin; “if he has raised it he can put it down.”
+
+“And hold, madame,” suggested Comminges, who was near a window, out of which he could see; “hold, the moment is a happy one, for there he is now, giving his blessing in the square of the Palais Royal.”
+
+The queen sprang to the window.
+
+“It is true,” she said, “the arch hypocrite — see!”
+
+“I see,” said Mazarin, “that everybody kneels before him, although he be but coadjutor, whilst I, were I in his place, though I am cardinal, should be torn to pieces. I persist, then, madame, in my wish” (he laid an emphasis on the word), “that your majesty should receive the coadjutor.”
+
+“And wherefore do you not say, like the rest, your will?” replied the queen, in a low voice.
+
+Mazarin bowed.
+
+“Monsieur le marechal,” said the queen, after a moment’s reflection, “go and find the coadjutor and bring him to me.”
+
+“And what shall I say to the people?”
+
+“That they must have patience,” said Anne, “as I have.”
+
+The fiery Spanish woman spoke in a tone so imperative that the marechal made no reply; he bowed and went out.
+
+(D’Artagnan turned to Porthos. “How will this end?” he said.
+
+“We shall soon see,” said Porthos, in his tranquil way.)
+
+In the meantime Anne of Austria approached Comminges and conversed with him in a subdued tone, whilst Mazarin glanced uneasily at the corner occupied by D’Artagnan and Porthos. Ere long the door opened and the marechal entered, followed by the coadjutor.
+
+“There, madame,” he said, “is Monsieur Gondy, who hastens to obey your majesty’s summons.”
+
+The queen advanced a few steps to meet him, and then stopped, cold, severe, unmoved, with her lower lip scornfully protruded.
+
+Gondy bowed respectfully.
+
+“Well, sir,” said the queen, “what is your opinion of this riot?”
+
+“That it is no longer a riot, madame,” he replied, “but a revolt.”
+
+“The revolt is at the door of those who think my people can rebel,” cried Anne, unable to dissimulate before the coadjutor, whom she looked upon, and probably with reason, as the promoter of the tumult. “Revolt! thus it is called by those who have wished for this demonstration and who are, perhaps, the cause of it; but, wait, wait! the king’s authority will put all this to rights.”
+
+“Was it to tell me that, madame,” coldly replied Gondy, “that your majesty admitted me to the honor of entering your presence?”
+
+“No, my dear coadjutor,” said Mazarin; “it was to ask your advice in the unhappy dilemma in which we find ourselves.”
+
+“Is it true,” asked Gondy, feigning astonishment, “that her majesty summoned me to ask for my opinion?”
+
+“Yes,” said the queen, “it is requested.”
+
+The coadjutor bowed.
+
+“Your majesty wishes, then — — ”
+
+“You to say what you would do in her place,” Mazarin hastened to reply.
+
+The coadjutor looked at the queen, who replied by a sign in the affirmative.
+
+“Were I in her majesty’s place,” said Gondy, coldly, “I should not hesitate; I should release Broussel.”
+
+“And if I do not give him up, what think you will be the result?” exclaimed the queen.
+
+“I believe that not a stone in Paris will remain unturned,” put in the marechal.
+
+“It was not your opinion that I asked,” said the queen, sharply, without even turning around.
+
+“If it is I whom your majesty interrogates,” replied the coadjutor in the same calm manner, “I reply that I hold monsieur le marechal’s opinion in every respect.”
+
+The color mounted to the queen’s face; her fine blue eyes seemed to start out of her head and her carmine lips, compared by all the poets of the day to a pomegranate in flower, were trembling with anger. Mazarin himself, who was well accustomed to the domestic outbreaks of this disturbed household, was alarmed.
+
+“Give up Broussel!” she cried; “fine counsel, indeed. Upon my word! one can easily see it comes from a priest.”
+
+Gondy remained firm, and the abuse of the day seemed to glide over his head as the sarcasms of the evening before had done; but hatred and revenge were accumulating in his heart silently and drop by drop. He looked coldly at the queen, who nudged Mazarin to make him say something in his turn.
+
+Mazarin, according to his custom, was thinking much and saying little.
+
+“Ho! ho!” said he, “good advice, advice of a friend. I, too, would give up that good Monsieur Broussel, dead or alive, and all would be at an end.”
+
+“If you yield him dead, all will indeed be at an end, my lord, but quite otherwise than you mean.”
+
+“Did I say ‘dead or alive?’” replied Mazarin. “It was only a way of speaking. You know I am not familiar with the French language, which you, monsieur le coadjuteur, both speak and write so well.”
+
+(“This is a council of state,” D’Artagnan remarked to Porthos; “but we held better ones at La Rochelle, with Athos and Aramis.”
+
+“At the Saint Gervais bastion,” said Porthos.
+
+“There and elsewhere.”)
+
+The coadjutor let the storm pass over his head and resumed, still with the same tranquillity:
+
+“Madame, if the opinion I have submitted to you does not please you it is doubtless because you have better counsels to follow. I know too well the wisdom of the queen and that of her advisers to suppose that they will leave the capital long in trouble that may lead to a revolution.”
+
+“Thus, then, it is your opinion,” said Anne of Austria, with a sneer and biting her lips with rage, “that yesterday’s riot, which to-day is already a rebellion, to-morrow may become a revolution?”
+
+“Yes, madame,” replied the coadjutor, gravely.
+
+“But if I am to believe you, sir, the people seem to have thrown off all restraint.”
+
+“It is a bad year for kings,” said Gondy, shaking his head; “look at England, madame.”
+
+“Yes; but fortunately we have no Oliver Cromwell in France,” replied the queen.
+
+“Who knows?” said Gondy; “such men are like thunderbolts — one recognizes them only when they have struck.”
+
+Every one shuddered and there was a moment of silence, during which the queen pressed her hand to her side, evidently to still the beatings of her heart.
+
+(“Porthos,” murmured D’Artagnan, “look well at that priest.”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “I see him. What then?”
+
+“Well, he is a man.”
+
+Porthos looked at D’Artagnan in astonishment. Evidently he did not understand his meaning.)
+
+“Your majesty,” continued the coadjutor, pitilessly, “is about to take such measures as seem good to you, but I foresee that they will be violent and such as will still further exasperate the rioters.”
+
+“In that case, you, monsieur le coadjuteur, who have such power over them and are at the same time friendly to us,” said the queen, ironically, “will quiet them by bestowing your blessing upon them.”
+
+“Perhaps it will be too late,” said Gondy, still unmoved; “perhaps I shall have lost all influence; while by giving up Broussel your majesty will strike at the root of the sedition and will gain the right to punish severely any revival of the revolt.”
+
+“Have I not, then, that right?” cried the queen.
+
+“If you have it, use it,” replied Gondy.
+
+(“Peste!” said D’Artagnan to Porthos. “There is a man after my own heart. Oh! if he were minister and I were his D’Artagnan, instead of belonging to that beast of a Mazarin, mordieu! what fine things we would do together!”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos.)
+
+The queen made a sign for every one, except Mazarin, to quit the room; and Gondy bowed, as if to leave with the rest.
+
+“Stay, sir,” said Anne to him.
+
+“Good,” thought Gondy, “she is going to yield.”
+
+(“She is going to have him killed,” said D’Artagnan to Porthos, “but at all events it shall not be by me. I swear to Heaven, on the contrary, that if they fall upon him I will fall upon them.”
+
+“And I, too,” said Porthos.)
+
+“Good,” muttered Mazarin, sitting down, “we shall soon see something startling.”
+
+The queen’s eyes followed the retreating figures and when the last had closed the door she turned away. It was evident that she was making unnatural efforts to subdue her anger; she fanned herself, smelled at her vinaigrette and walked up and down. Gondy, who began to feel uneasy, examined the tapestry with his eyes, touched the coat of mail which he wore under his long gown and felt from time to time to see if the handle of a good Spanish dagger, which was hidden under his cloak, was well within reach.
+
+“And now,” at last said the queen, “now that we are alone, repeat your counsel, monsieur le coadjuteur.”
+
+“It is this, madame: that you should appear to have reflected, and publicly acknowledge an error, which constitutes the extra strength of a strong government; release Broussel from prison and give him back to the people.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Anne, “to humble myself thus! Am I, or am I not, the queen? This screaming mob, are they, or are they not, my subjects? Have I friends? Have I guards? Ah! by Notre Dame! as Queen Catherine used to say,” continued she, excited by her own words, “rather than give up this infamous Broussel to them I will strangle him with my own hands!”
+
+And she sprang toward Gondy, whom assuredly at that moment she hated more than Broussel, with outstretched arms. The coadjutor remained immovable and not a muscle of his face was discomposed; only his glance flashed like a sword in returning the furious looks of the queen.
+
+(“He were a dead man” said the Gascon, “if there were still a Vitry at the court and if Vitry entered at this moment; but for my part, before he could reach the good prelate I would kill Vitry at once; the cardinal would be infinitely pleased with me.”
+
+“Hush!” said Porthos; “listen.”)
+
+“Madame,” cried the cardinal, seizing hold of Anne and drawing her back, “Madame, what are you about?”
+
+Then he added in Spanish, “Anne, are you mad? You, a queen to quarrel like a washerwoman! And do you not perceive that in the person of this priest is represented the whole people of Paris and that it is dangerous to insult him at this moment, and if this priest wished it, in an hour you would be without a crown? Come, then, on another occasion you can be firm and strong; but to-day is not the proper time; to-day, flatter and caress, or you are only a common woman.”
+
+(At the first words of this address D’Artagnan had seized Porthos’s arm, which he pressed with gradually increasing force. When Mazarin ceased speaking he said to Porthos in a low tone:
+
+“Never tell Mazarin that I understand Spanish, or I am a lost man and you are also.”
+
+“All right,” said Porthos.)
+
+This rough appeal, marked by the eloquence which characterized Mazarin when he spoke in Italian or Spanish and which he lost entirely in speaking French, was uttered with such impenetrable expression that Gondy, clever physiognomist as he was, had no suspicion of its being more than a simple warning to be more subdued.
+
+The queen, on her part, thus chided, softened immediately and sat down, and in an almost weeping voice, letting her arms fall by her side, said:
+
+“Pardon me, sir, and attribute this violence to what I suffer. A woman, and consequently subject to the weaknesses of my sex, I am alarmed at the idea of civil war; a queen, accustomed to be obeyed, I am excited at the first opposition.”
+
+“Madame,” replied Gondy, bowing, “your majesty is mistaken in qualifying my sincere advice as opposition. Your majesty has none but submissive and respectful subjects. It is not the queen with whom the people are displeased; they ask for Broussel and are only too happy, if you release him to them, to live under your government.”
+
+Mazarin, who at the words, “It is not the queen with whom the people are displeased,” had pricked up his ears, thinking that the coadjutor was about to speak of the cries, “Down with Mazarin,” and pleased with Gondy’s suppression of this fact, he said with his sweetest voice and his most gracious expression:
+
+“Madame, credit the coadjutor, who is one of the most able politicians we have; the first available cardinal’s hat seems to belong already to his noble brow.”
+
+“Ah! how much you have need of me, cunning rogue!” thought Gondy.
+
+(“And what will he promise us?” said D’Artagnan. “Peste, if he is giving away hats like that, Porthos, let us look out and both demand a regiment to-morrow. Corbleu! let the civil war last but one year and I will have a constable’s sword gilt for me.”
+
+“And for me?” put in Porthos.
+
+“For you? I will give you the baton of the Marechal de la Meilleraie, who does not seem to be much in favor just now.”)
+
+“And so, sir,” said the queen, “you are seriously afraid of a public tumult.”
+
+“Seriously,” said Gondy, astonished at not having further advanced; “I fear that when the torrent has broken its embankment it will cause fearful destruction.”
+
+“And I,” said the queen, “think that in such a case other embankments should be raised to oppose it. Go; I will reflect.”
+
+Gondy looked at Mazarin, astonished, and Mazarin approached the queen to speak to her, but at this moment a frightful tumult arose from the square of the Palais Royal.
+
+Gondy smiled, the queen’s color rose and Mazarin grew even paler.
+
+“What is that again?” he asked.
+
+At this moment Comminges rushed into the room.
+
+“Pardon, your majesty,” he cried, “but the people have dashed the sentinels against the gates and they are now forcing the doors; what are your commands?”
+
+“Listen, madame,” said Gondy.
+
+The moaning of waves, the noise of thunder, the roaring of a volcano, cannot be compared with the tempest of cries heard at that moment.
+
+“What are my commands?” said the queen.
+
+“Yes, for time presses.”
+
+“How many men have you about the Palais Royal?”
+
+“Six hundred.”
+
+“Place a hundred around the king and with the remainder sweep away this mob for me.”
+
+“Madame,” cried Mazarin, “what are you about?”
+
+“Go!” said the queen.
+
+Comminges went out with a soldier’s passive obedience.
+
+At this moment a monstrous battering was heard. One of the gates began to yield.
+
+“Oh! madame,” cried Mazarin, “you have ruined us all — the king, yourself and me.”
+
+At this cry from the soul of the frightened cardinal, Anne became alarmed in her turn and would have recalled Comminges.
+
+“It is too late,” said Mazarin, tearing his hair, “too late!”
+
+The gale had given way. Hoarse shouts were heard from the excited mob. D’Artagnan put his hand to his sword, motioning to Porthos to follow his example.
+
+“Save the queen!” cried Mazarin to the coadjutor.
+
+Gondy sprang to the window and threw it open; he recognized Louvieres at the head of a troop of about three or four thousand men.
+
+“Not a step further,” he shouted, “the queen is signing!”
+
+“What are you saying?” asked the queen.
+
+“The truth, madame,” said Mazarin, placing a pen and a paper before her, “you must;” then he added: “Sign, Anne, I implore you — I command you.”
+
+The queen fell into a chair, took the pen and signed.
+
+The people, kept back by Louvieres, had not made another step forward; but the awful murmuring, which indicates an angry people, continued.
+
+The queen had written, “The keeper of the prison at Saint Germain will set Councillor Broussel at liberty;” and she had signed it.
+
+The coadjutor, whose eyes devoured her slightest movements, seized the paper immediately the signature had been affixed to it, returned to the window and waved it in his hand.
+
+“This is the order,” he said.
+
+All Paris seemed to shout with joy, and then the air resounded with the cries of “Long live Broussel!” “Long live the coadjutor!”
+
+“Long live the queen!” cried De Gondy; but the cries which replied to his were poor and few, and perhaps he had but uttered it to make Anne of Austria sensible of her weakness.
+
+“And now that you have obtained what you want, go,” said she, “Monsieur de Gondy.”
+
+“Whenever her majesty has need of me,” replied the coadjutor, bowing, “her majesty knows I am at her command.”
+
+“Ah, cursed priest!” cried Anne, when he had retired, stretching out her arm to the scarcely closed door, “one day I will make you drink the dregs of the atrocious gall you have poured out on me to-day.”
+
+Mazarin wished to approach her. “Leave me!” she exclaimed; “you are not a man!” and she went out of the room.
+
+“It is you who are not a woman,” muttered Mazarin.
+
+Then, after a moment of reverie, he remembered where he had left D’Artagnan and Porthos and that they must have overheard everything. He knit his brows and went direct to the tapestry, which he pushed aside. The closet was empty.
+
+At the queen’s last word, D’Artagnan had dragged Porthos into the gallery. Thither Mazarin went in his turn and found the two friends walking up and down.
+
+“Why did you leave the closet, Monsieur d’Artagnan?” asked the cardinal.
+
+“Because,” replied D’Artagnan, “the queen desired every one to leave and I thought that this command was intended for us as well as for the rest.”
+
+“And you have been here since — — ”
+
+“About a quarter of an hour,” said D’Artagnan, motioning to Porthos not to contradict him.
+
+Mazarin saw the sign and remained convinced that D’Artagnan had seen and heard everything; but he was pleased with his falsehood.
+
+“Decidedly, Monsieur d’Artagnan, you are the man I have been seeking. You may reckon upon me and so may your friend.” Then bowing to the two musketeers with his most gracious smile, he re-entered his closet more calmly, for on the departure of De Gondy the uproar had ceased as though by enchantment.
+
+Chapter XLIX. Misfortune refreshes the Memory.
+
+Anne of Austria returned to her oratory, furious.
+
+“What!” she cried, wringing her beautiful hands, “What! the people have seen Monsieur de Condé, a prince of the blood royal, arrested by my mother-in-law, Maria de Medicis; they saw my mother-in-law, their former regent, expelled by the cardinal; they saw Monsieur de Vendome, that is to say, the son of Henry IV., a prisoner at Vincennes; and whilst these great personages were imprisoned, insulted and threatened, they said nothing; and now for a Broussel — good God! what, then, is to become of royalty?”
+
+The queen unconsciously touched here upon the exciting question. The people had made no demonstration for the princes, but they had risen for Broussel; they were taking the part of a plebeian and in defending Broussel they instinctively felt they were defending themselves.
+
+During this time Mazarin walked up and down the study, glancing from time to time at his beautiful Venetian mirror, starred in every direction. “Ah!” he said, “it is sad, I know well, to be forced to yield thus; but, pshaw! we shall have our revenge. What matters it about Broussel — it is a name, not a thing.”
+
+Mazarin, clever politician as he was, was for once mistaken; Broussel was a thing, not a name.
+
+The next morning, therefore, when Broussel made his entrance into Paris in a large carriage, having his son Louvieres at his side and Friquet behind the vehicle, the people threw themselves in his way and cries of “Long live Broussel!” “Long live our father!” resounded from all parts and was death to Mazarin’s ears; and the cardinal’s spies brought bad news from every direction, which greatly agitated the minister, but was calmly received by the queen. The latter seemed to be maturing in her mind some great stroke, a fact which increased the uneasiness of the cardinal, who knew the proud princess and dreaded much the determination of Anne of Austria.
+
+The coadjutor returned to parliament more a monarch than king, queen, and cardinal, all three together. By his advice a decree from parliament summoned the citizens to lay down their arms and demolish the barricades. They now knew that it required but one hour to take up arms again and one night to reconstruct the barricades.
+
+Rochefort had returned to the Chevalier d’Humieres his fifty horsemen, less two, missing at roll call. But the chevalier was himself at heart a Frondist and would hear nothing said of compensation.
+
+The mendicant had gone to his old place on the steps of Saint Eustache and was again distributing holy water with one hand and asking alms with the other. No one could suspect that those two hands had been engaged with others in drawing out from the social edifice the keystone of royalty.
+
+Louvieres was proud and satisfied; he had taken revenge on Mazarin and had aided in his father’s deliverance from prison. His name had been mentioned as a name of terror at the Palais Royal. Laughingly he said to the councillor, restored to his family:
+
+“Do you think, father, that if now I should ask for a company the queen would give it to me?”
+
+D’Artagnan profited by this interval of calm to send away Raoul, whom he had great difficulty in keeping shut up during the riot, and who wished positively to strike a blow for one party or the other. Raoul had offered some opposition at first; but D’Artagnan made use of the Comte de la Fere’s name, and after paying a visit to Madame de Chevreuse, Raoul started to rejoin the army.
+
+Rochefort alone was dissatisfied with the termination of affairs. He had written to the Duc de Beaufort to come and the duke was about to arrive, and he would find Paris tranquil. He went to the coadjutor to consult with him whether it would not be better to send word to the duke to stop on the road, but Gondy reflected for a moment, and then said:
+
+“Let him continue his journey.”
+
+“All is not then over?” asked Rochefort.
+
+“My dear count, we have only just begun.”
+
+“What induces you to think so?”
+
+“The knowledge that I have of the queen’s heart; she will not rest contented beaten.”
+
+“Is she, then, preparing for a stroke?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“Come, let us see what you know.”
+
+“I know that she has written to the prince to return in haste from the army.”
+
+“Ah! ha!” said Rochefort, “you are right. We must let Monsieur de Beaufort come.”
+
+In fact, the evening after this conversation the report was circulated that the Prince de Condé had arrived. It was a very simple, natural circumstance and yet it created a profound sensation. It was said that Madame de Longueville, for whom the prince had more than a brother’s affection and in whom he had confided, had been indiscreet. His confidence had unveiled the sinister project of the queen.
+
+Even on the night of the prince’s return, some citizens, bolder than the rest, such as the sheriffs, captains and the quartermaster, went from house to house among their friends, saying:
+
+“Why do we not take the king and place him in the Hotel de Ville? It is a shame to leave him to be educated by our enemies, who will give him evil counsel; whereas, brought up by the coadjutor, for instance, he would imbibe national principles and love his people.”
+
+That night the question was secretly agitated and on the morrow the gray and black cloaks, the patrols of armed shop-people, and the bands of mendicants reappeared.
+
+The queen had passed the night in lonely conference with the prince, who had entered the oratory at midnight and did not leave till five o’clock in the morning.
+
+At five o’clock Anne went to the cardinal’s room. If she had not yet taken any repose, he at least was already up. Six days had already passed out of the ten he had asked from Mordaunt; he was therefore occupied in revising his reply to Cromwell, when some one knocked gently at the door of communication with the queen’s apartments. Anne of Austria alone was permitted to enter by that door. The cardinal therefore rose to open it.
+
+The queen was in a morning gown, but it became her still; for, like Diana of Poictiers and Ninon, Anne of Austria enjoyed the privilege of remaining ever beautiful; nevertheless, this morning she looked handsomer than usual, for her eyes had all the sparkle inward satisfaction adds to expression.
+
+“What is the matter, madame?” said Mazarin, uneasily. “You seem secretly elated.”
+
+“Yes, Giulio,” she said, “proud and happy; for I have found the means of strangling this hydra.”
+
+“You are a great politician, my queen,” said Mazarin; “let us hear the means.” And he hid what he had written by sliding the letter under a folio of blank paper.
+
+“You know,” said the queen, “that they want to take the king away from me?”
+
+“Alas! yes, and to hang me.”
+
+“They shall not have the king.”
+
+“Nor hang me.”
+
+“Listen. I want to carry off my son from them, with yourself. I wish that this event, which on the day it is known will completely change the aspect of affairs, should be accomplished without the knowledge of any others but yourself, myself, and a third person.”
+
+“And who is this third person?”
+
+“Monsieur le Prince.”
+
+“He has come, then, as they told me?”
+
+“Last evening.”
+
+“And you have seen him?”
+
+“He has just left me.”
+
+“And will he aid this project?”
+
+“The plan is his own.”
+
+“And Paris?”
+
+“He will starve it out and force it to surrender at discretion.”
+
+“The plan is not wanting in grandeur; I see but one impediment.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Impossibility.”
+
+“A senseless word. Nothing is impossible.”
+
+“On paper.”
+
+“In execution. We have money?”
+
+“A little,” said Mazarin, trembling, lest Anne should ask to draw upon his purse.
+
+“Troops?”
+
+“Five or six thousand men.”
+
+“Courage?”
+
+“Plenty.”
+
+“Then the thing is easy. Oh! do think of it, Giulio! Paris, this odious Paris, waking up one morning without queen or king, surrounded, besieged, famished — having for its sole resource its stupid parliament and their coadjutor with crooked limbs!”
+
+“Charming! charming!” said Mazarin. “I can imagine the effect, I do not see the means.”
+
+“I will find the means myself.”
+
+“You are aware it will be war, civil war, furious, devouring, implacable?”
+
+“Oh! yes, yes, war,” said Anne of Austria. “Yes, I will reduce this rebellious city to ashes. I will extinguish the fire with blood! I will perpetuate the crime and punishment by making a frightful example. Paris!; I — I detest, I loathe it!”
+
+“Very fine, Anne. You are now sanguinary; but take care. We are not in the time of Malatesta and Castruccio Castracani. You will get yourself decapitated, my beautiful queen, and that would be a pity.”
+
+“You laugh.”
+
+“Faintly. It is dangerous to go to war with a nation. Look at your brother monarch, Charles I. He is badly off, very badly.”
+
+“We are in France, and I am Spanish.”
+
+“So much the worse; I had much rather you were French and myself also; they would hate us both less.”
+
+“Nevertheless, you consent?”
+
+“Yes, if the thing be possible.”
+
+“It is; it is I who tell you so; make preparations for departure.”
+
+“I! I am always prepared to go, only, as you know, I never do go, and perhaps shall go this time as little as before.”
+
+“In short, if I go, will you go too?”
+
+“I will try.”
+
+“You torment me, Giulio, with your fears; and what are you afraid of, then?”
+
+“Of many things.”
+
+“What are they?”
+
+Mazarin’s face, smiling as it was, became clouded.
+
+“Anne,” said he, “you are but a woman and as a woman you may insult men at your ease, knowing that you can do it with impunity. You accuse me of fear; I have not so much as you have, since I do not fly as you do. Against whom do they cry out? is it against you or against myself? Whom would they hang, yourself or me? Well, I can weather the storm — I, whom, notwithstanding, you tax with fear — not with bravado, that is not my way; but I am firm. Imitate me. Make less hubbub and think more deeply. You cry very loud, you end by doing nothing; you talk of flying — — ”
+
+Mazarin shrugged his shoulders and taking the queen’s hand led her to the window.
+
+“Look!” he said.
+
+“Well?” said the queen, blinded by her obstinacy.
+
+“Well, what do you see from this window? If I am not mistaken those are citizens, helmeted and mailed, armed with good muskets, as in the time of the League, and whose eyes are so intently fixed on this window that they will see you if you raise that curtain much; and now come to the other side — what do you see? Creatures of the people, armed with halberds, guarding your doors. You will see the same at every opening from this palace to which I should lead you. Your doors are guarded, the airholes of your cellars are guarded, and I could say to you, as that good La Ramee said to me of the Duc de Beaufort, you must be either bird or mouse to get out.”
+
+“He did get out, nevertheless.”
+
+“Do you think of escaping in the same way?”
+
+“I am a prisoner, then?”
+
+“Parbleu!” said Mazarin, “I have been proving it to you this last hour.”
+
+And he quietly resumed his dispatch at the place where he had been interrupted.
+
+Anne, trembling with anger and scarlet with humiliation, left the room, shutting the door violently after her. Mazarin did not even turn around. When once more in her own apartment Anne fell into a chair and wept; then suddenly struck with an idea:
+
+“I am saved!” she exclaimed, rising; “oh, yes! yes! I know a man who will find the means of taking me from Paris, a man I have too long forgotten.” Then falling into a reverie, she added, however, with an expression of joy, “Ungrateful woman that I am, for twenty years I have forgotten this man, whom I ought to have made a marechal of France. My mother-in-law expended gold, caresses, dignities on Concini, who ruined her; the king made Vitry marechal of France for an assassination: while I have left in obscurity, in poverty, the noble D’Artagnan, who saved me!”
+
+And running to a table, on which were paper, pens and ink, she hastily began to write.
+
+Chapter L. The Interview.
+
+It had been D’Artagnan’s practice, ever since the riots, to sleep in the same room as Porthos, and on this eventful morning he was still there, sleeping, and dreaming that a yellow cloud had overspread the sky and was raining gold pieces into his hat, which he held out till it was overflowing with pistoles. As for Porthos, he dreamed that the panels of his carriage were not capacious enough to contain the armorial bearings he had ordered to be painted on them. They were both aroused at seven o’clock by the entrance of an unliveried servant, who brought a letter for D’Artagnan.
+
+“From whom?” asked the Gascon.
+
+“From the queen,” replied the servant.
+
+“Ho!” said Porthos, raising himself in his bed; “what does she say?”
+
+D’Artagnan requested the servant to wait in the next room and when the door was closed he sprang up from his bed and read rapidly, whilst Porthos looked at him with starting eyes, not daring to ask a single question.
+
+“Friend Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, handing the letter to him, “this time, at least, you are sure of your title of baron, and I of my captaincy. Read for yourself and judge.”
+
+Porthos took the letter and with a trembling voice read the following words:
+
+“The queen wishes to speak to Monsieur d’Artagnan, who must follow the bearer.”
+
+“Well!” exclaimed Porthos; “I see nothing in that very extraordinary.”
+
+“But I see much that is very extraordinary in it,” replied D’Artagnan. “It is evident, by their sending for me, that matters are becoming complicated. Just reflect a little what an agitation the queen’s mind must be in for her to have remembered me after twenty years.”
+
+“It is true,” said Porthos.
+
+“Sharpen your sword, baron, load your pistols, and give some corn to the horses, for I will answer for it, something lightning-like will happen ere to-morrow.”
+
+“But, stop; do you think it can be a trap that they are laying for us?” suggested Porthos, incessantly thinking how his greatness must be irksome to inferior people.
+
+“If it is a snare,” replied D’Artagnan, “I shall scent it out, be assured. If Mazarin is an Italian, I am a Gascon.”
+
+And D’Artagnan dressed himself in an instant.
+
+Whilst Porthos, still in bed, was hooking on his cloak for him, a second knock at the door was heard.
+
+“Come in,” exclaimed D’Artagnan; and another servant entered.
+
+“From His Eminence, Cardinal Mazarin,” presenting a letter.
+
+D’Artagnan looked at Porthos.
+
+“A complicated affair,” said Porthos; “where will you begin?”
+
+“It is arranged capitally; his eminence expects me in half an hour.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“My friend,” said D’Artagnan, turning to the servant, “tell his eminence that in half an hour I shall be at his command.”
+
+“It is very fortunate,” resumed the Gascon, when the valet had retired, “that he did not meet the other one.”
+
+“Do you not think that they have sent for you, both for the same thing?”
+
+“I do not think it, I am certain of it.”
+
+“Quick, quick, D’Artagnan. Remember that the queen awaits you, and after the queen, the cardinal, and after the cardinal, myself.”
+
+D’Artagnan summoned Anne of Austria’s servant and signified that he was ready to follow him into the queen’s presence.
+
+The servant conducted him by the Rue des Petits Champs and turning to the left entered the little garden gate leading into the Rue Richelieu; then they gained the private staircase and D’Artagnan was ushered into the oratory. A certain emotion, for which he could not account, made the lieutenant’s heart beat: he had no longer the assurance of youth; experience had taught him the importance of past events. Formerly he would have approached the queen as a young man who bends before a woman; but now it was a different thing; he answered her summons as an humble soldier obeys an illustrious general.
+
+The silence of the oratory was at last disturbed by the slight rustling of silk, and D’Artagnan started when he perceived the tapestry raised by a white hand, which, by its form, its color and its beauty he recognized as that royal hand which had one day been presented to him to kiss. The queen entered.
+
+“It is you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” she said, fixing a gaze full of melancholy interest on the countenance of the officer, “and I know you well. Look at me well in your turn. I am the queen; do you recognize me?”
+
+“No, madame,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“But are you no longer aware,” continued Anne, giving that sweet expression to her voice which she could do at will, “that in former days the queen had once need of a young, brave and devoted cavalier — that she found this cavalier — and that, although he might have thought that she had forgotten him, she had kept a place for him in the depths of her heart?”
+
+“No, madame, I was ignorant of that,” said the musketeer.
+
+“So much the worse, sir,” said Anne of Austria; “so much the worse, at least for the queen, for to-day she has need of the same courage and the same devotion.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, “does the queen, surrounded as she is by such devoted servants, such wise counselors, men, in short, so great by merit or position — does she deign to cast her eyes on an obscure soldier?”
+
+Anne understood this covert reproach and was more moved than irritated by it. She had many a time felt humiliated by the self-sacrifice and disinterestedness shown by the Gascon gentleman. She had allowed herself to be exceeded in generosity.
+
+“All that you tell me of those by whom I am surrounded, Monsieur d’Artagnan, is doubtless true,” said the queen, “but I have confidence in you alone. I know that you belong to the cardinal, but belong to me as well, and I will take upon myself the making of your fortune. Come, will you do to-day what formerly the gentleman you do not know did for the queen?”
+
+“I will do everything your majesty commands,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+The queen reflected for a moment and then, seeing the cautious demeanor of the musketeer:
+
+“Perhaps you like repose?” she said.
+
+“I do not know, for I have never had it, madame.”
+
+“Have you any friends?”
+
+“I had three, two of whom have left Paris, to go I know not where. One alone is left to me, but he is one of those known, I believe, to the cavalier of whom your majesty did me the honor to speak.”
+
+“Very good,” said the queen; “you and your friend are worth an army.”
+
+“What am I to do, madame?”
+
+“Return at five o’clock and I will tell you; but do not breathe to a living soul, sir, the rendezvous which I give you.”
+
+“No, madame.”
+
+“Swear it upon the cross.”
+
+“Madame, I have never been false to my word; when I say I will not do a thing, I mean it.”
+
+The queen, although astonished at this language, to which she was not accustomed from her courtiers, argued from it a happy omen of the zeal with which D’Artagnan would serve her in the accomplishment of her project. It was one of the Gascon’s artifices to hide his deep cunning occasionally under an appearance of rough loyalty.
+
+“Has the queen any further commands for me now?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“No, sir,” replied Anne of Austria, “and you may retire until the time that I mentioned to you.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed and went out.
+
+“Diable!” he exclaimed when the door was shut, “they seem to have the greatest need of me just now.”
+
+Then, as the half hour had already glided by, he crossed the gallery and knocked at the cardinal’s door.
+
+Bernouin introduced him.
+
+“I come for your commands, my lord,” he said.
+
+And according to his custom D’Artagnan glanced rapidly around and remarked that Mazarin had a sealed letter before him. But it was so placed on the desk that he could not see to whom it was addressed.
+
+“You come from the queen?” said Mazarin, looking fixedly at D’Artagnan.
+
+“I! my lord — who told you that?”
+
+“Nobody, but I know it.”
+
+“I regret infinitely to tell you, my lord, that you are mistaken,” replied the Gascon, impudently, firm to the promise he had just made to Anne of Austria.
+
+“I opened the door of the ante-room myself and I saw you enter at the end of the corridor.”
+
+“Because I was shown up the private stairs.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“I know not; it must have been a mistake.”
+
+Mazarin was aware that it was not easy to make D’Artagnan reveal anything he was desirous of hiding, so he gave up, for the time, the discovery of the mystery the Gascon was concealing.
+
+“Let us speak of my affairs,” said Mazarin, “since you will tell me naught of yours. Are you fond of traveling?”
+
+“My life has been passed on the high road.”
+
+“Would anything retain you particularly in Paris?”
+
+“Nothing but an order from a superior would retain me in Paris.”
+
+“Very well. Here is a letter, which must be taken to its address.”
+
+“To its address, my lord? But it has none.”
+
+In fact, the side of the letter opposite the seal was blank.
+
+“I must tell you,” resumed Mazarin, “that it is in a double envelope.”
+
+“I understand; and I am to take off the first one when I have reached a certain place?”
+
+“Just so, take it and go. You have a friend, Monsieur du Vallon, whom I like much; let him accompany you.”
+
+“The devil!” said D’Artagnan to himself. “He knows that we overheard his conversation yesterday and he wants to get us away from Paris.”
+
+“Do you hesitate?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“No, my lord, and I will set out at once. There is one thing only which I must request.”
+
+“What is it? Speak.”
+
+“That your eminence will go at once to the queen.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Merely to say these words: ‘I am going to send Monsieur d’Artagnan away and I wish him to set out directly.’”
+
+“I told you,” said Mazarin, “that you had seen the queen.”
+
+“I had the honor of saying to your eminence that there had been some mistake.”
+
+“What is the meaning of that?”
+
+“May I venture to repeat my prayer to your eminence?”
+
+“Very well; I will go. Wait here for me.” And looking attentively around him, to see if he had left any of his keys in his closets, Mazarin went out. Ten minutes elapsed, during which D’Artagnan made every effort to read through the first envelope what was written on the second. But he did not succeed.
+
+Mazarin returned, pale, and evidently thoughtful. He seated himself at his desk and D’Artagnan proceeded to examine his face, as he had just examined the letter he held, but the envelope which covered his countenance appeared as impenetrable as that which covered the letter.
+
+“Ah!” thought the Gascon; “he looks displeased. Can it be with me? He meditates. Is it about sending me to the Bastile? All very fine, my lord, but at the very first hint you give of such a thing I will strangle you and become Frondist. I should be carried home in triumph like Monsieur Broussel and Athos would proclaim me the French Brutus. It would be exceedingly droll.”
+
+The Gascon, with his vivid imagination, had already seen the advantage to be derived from his situation. Mazarin gave, however, no order of the kind, but on the contrary began to be insinuating.
+
+“You were right,” he said, “my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan, and you cannot set out yet. I beg you to return me that dispatch.”
+
+D’Artagnan obeyed, and Mazarin ascertained that the seal was intact.
+
+“I shall want you this evening,” he said “Return in two hours.”
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “I have an appointment in two hours which I cannot miss.”
+
+“Do not be uneasy,” said Mazarin; “it is the same.”
+
+“Good!” thought D’Artagnan; “I fancied it was so.”
+
+“Return, then, at five o’clock and bring that worthy Monsieur du Vallon with you. Only, leave him in the ante-room, as I wish to speak to you alone.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed, and thought: “Both at the same hour; both commands alike; both at the Palais Royal. Monsieur de Gondy would pay a hundred thousand francs for such a secret!”
+
+“You are thoughtful,” said Mazarin, uneasily.
+
+“Yes, I was thinking whether we ought to come armed or not.”
+
+“Armed to the teeth!” replied Mazarin.
+
+“Very well, my lord; it shall be so.”
+
+D’Artagnan saluted, went out and hastened to repeat to his friend Mazarin’s flattering promises, which gave Porthos an indescribable happiness.
+
+Chapter LI. The Flight.
+
+When D’Artagnan returned to the Palais Royal at five o’clock, it presented, in spite of the excitement which reigned in the town, a spectacle of the greatest rejoicing. Nor was that surprising. The queen had restored Broussel and Blancmesnil to the people and had therefore nothing to fear, since the people had nothing more just then to ask for. The return, also, of the conqueror of Lens was the pretext for giving a grand banquet. The princes and princesses were invited and their carriages had crowded the court since noon; then after dinner the queen was to have a play in her apartment. Anne of Austria had never appeared more brilliant than on that day — radiant with grace and wit. Mazarin disappeared as they rose from table. He found D’Artagnan waiting for him already at his post in the ante-room.
+
+The cardinal advanced to him with a smile and taking him by the hand led him into his study.
+
+“My dear M. d’Artagnan,” said the minister, sitting down, “I am about to give you the greatest proof of confidence that a minister can give an officer.”
+
+“I hope,” said D’Artagnan, bowing, “that you give it, my lord, without hesitation and with the conviction that I am worthy of it.”
+
+“More worthy than any one in Paris my dear friend; therefore I apply to you. We are about to leave this evening,” continued Mazarin. “My dear M. d’Artagnan, the welfare of the state is deposited in your hands.” He paused.
+
+“Explain yourself, my lord, I am listening.”
+
+“The queen has resolved to make a little excursion with the king to Saint Germain.”
+
+“Aha!” said D’Artagnan, “that is to say, the queen wishes to leave Paris.”
+
+“A woman’s caprice — you understand.”
+
+“Yes, I understand perfectly,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“It was for this she summoned you this morning and that she told you to return at five o’clock.”
+
+“Was it worth while to wish me to swear this morning that I would mention the appointment to no one?” muttered D’Artagnan. “Oh, women! women! whether queens or not, they are always the same.”
+
+“Do you disapprove of this journey, my dear M. d’Artagnan?” asked Mazarin, anxiously.
+
+“I, my lord?” said D’Artagnan; “why should I?”
+
+“Because you shrug your shoulders.”
+
+“It is a way I have of speaking to myself. I neither approve nor disapprove, my lord; I merely await your commands.”
+
+“Good; it is you, accordingly, that I have pitched upon to conduct the king and the queen to Saint Germain.”
+
+“Liar!” thought D’Artagnan.
+
+“You see, therefore,” continued the cardinal, perceiving D’Artagnan’s composure, “that, as I have told you, the welfare of the state is placed in your hands.”
+
+“Yes, my lord, and I feel the whole responsibility of such a charge.”
+
+“You accept, however?”
+
+“I always accept.”
+
+“Do you think the thing possible?”
+
+“Everything is possible.”
+
+“Shall you be attacked on the road?”
+
+“Probably.”
+
+“And what will you do in that case?”
+
+“I shall pass through those who attack me.”
+
+“And suppose you cannot pass through them?”
+
+“So much the worse for them; I shall pass over them.”
+
+“And you will place the king and queen in safety also, at Saint Germain?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“On your life?”
+
+“On my life.”
+
+“You are a hero, my friend,” said Mazarin, gazing at the musketeer with admiration.
+
+D’Artagnan smiled.
+
+“And I?” asked Mazarin, after a moment’s silence.
+
+“How? and you, my lord?”
+
+“If I wish to leave?”
+
+“That would be much more difficult.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Your eminence might be recognized.”
+
+“Even under this disguise?” asked Mazarin, raising a cloak which covered an arm-chair, upon which lay a complete dress for an officer, of pearl-gray and red, entirely embroidered with silver.
+
+“If your eminence is disguised it will be almost easy.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mazarin, breathing more freely.
+
+“But it will be necessary for your eminence to do what the other day you declared you should have done in our place — cry, ‘Down with Mazarin!’”
+
+“I will: ‘Down with Mazarin’”
+
+“In French, in good French, my lord, take care of your accent; they killed six thousand Angevins in Sicily because they pronounced Italian badly. Take care that the French do not take their revenge on you for the Sicilian vespers.”
+
+“I will do my best.”
+
+“The streets are full of armed men,” continued D’Artagnan. “Are you sure that no one is aware of the queen’s project?”
+
+Mazarin reflected.
+
+“This affair would give a fine opportunity for a traitor, my lord; the chance of being attacked would be an excuse for everything.”
+
+Mazarin shuddered, but he reflected that a man who had the least intention to betray would not warn first.
+
+“And therefore,” added he, quietly, “I have not confidence in every one; the proof of which is, that I have fixed upon you to escort me.”
+
+“Shall you not go with the queen?”
+
+“No,” replied Mazarin.
+
+“Then you will start after the queen?”
+
+“No,” said Mazarin again.
+
+“Ah!” said D’Artagnan, who began to understand.
+
+“Yes,” continued the cardinal. “I have my plan. With the queen I double her risk; after the queen her departure would double mine; then, the court once safe, I might be forgotten. The great are often ungrateful.”
+
+“Very true,” said D’Artagnan, fixing his eyes, in spite of himself, on the queen’s diamond, which Mazarin wore on his finger. Mazarin followed the direction of his eyes and gently turned the hoop of the ring inside.
+
+“I wish,” he said, with his cunning smile, “to prevent them from being ungrateful to me.”
+
+“It is but Christian charity,” replied D’Artagnan, “not to lead one’s neighbors into temptation.”
+
+“It is exactly for that reason,” said Mazarin, “that I wish to start before them.”
+
+D’Artagnan smiled — he was just the man to understand the astute Italian. Mazarin saw the smile and profited by the moment.
+
+“You will begin, therefore, by taking me first out of Paris, will you not, my dear M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“A difficult commission, my lord,” replied D’Artagnan, resuming his serious manner.
+
+“But,” said Mazarin, “you did not make so many difficulties with regard to the king and queen.”
+
+“The king and the queen are my king and queen,” replied the musketeer, “my life is theirs and I must give it for them. If they ask it what have I to say?”
+
+“That is true,” murmured Mazarin, in a low tone, “but as thy life is not mine I suppose I must buy it, must I not?” and sighing deeply he began to turn the hoop of his ring outside again. D’Artagnan smiled. These two men met at one point and that was, cunning; had they been actuated equally by courage, the one would have done great things for the other.
+
+“But, also,” said Mazarin, “you must understand that if I ask this service from you it is with the intention of being grateful.”
+
+“Is it still only an intention, your eminence?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Stay,” said Mazarin, drawing the ring from his finger, “my dear D’Artagnan, there is a diamond which belonged to you formerly, it is but just it should return to you; take it, I pray.”
+
+D’Artagnan spared Mazarin the trouble of insisting, and after looking to see if the stone was the same and assuring himself of the purity of its water, he took it and passed it on his finger with indescribable pleasure.
+
+“I valued it much,” said Mazarin, giving a last look at it; “nevertheless, I give it to you with great pleasure.”
+
+“And I, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, “accept it as it is given. Come, let us speak of your little affairs. You wish to leave before everybody and at what hour?”
+
+“At ten o’clock.”
+
+“And the queen, at what time is it her wish to start?”
+
+“At midnight.”
+
+“Then it is possible. I can get you out of Paris and leave you beyond the barriere, and can return for her.”
+
+“Capital; but how will you get me out of Paris?”
+
+“Oh! as to that, you must leave it to me.”
+
+“I give you absolute power, therefore; take as large an escort as you like.”
+
+D’Artagnan shook his head.
+
+“It seems to me, however,” said Mazarin, “the safest method.”
+
+“Yes, for you, my lord, but not for the queen; you must leave it to me and give me the entire direction of the undertaking.”
+
+“Nevertheless — — ”
+
+“Or find some one else,” continued D’Artagnan, turning his back.
+
+“Oh!” muttered Mazarin, “I do believe he is going off with the diamond! M. d’Artagnan, my dear M. d’Artagnan,” he called out in a coaxing voice, “will you answer for everything?”
+
+“I will answer for nothing. I will do my best.”
+
+“Well, then, let us go — I must trust to you.”
+
+“It is very fortunate,” said D’Artagnan to himself.
+
+“You will be here at half-past nine.”
+
+“And I shall find your eminence ready?”
+
+“Certainly, quite ready.”
+
+“Well, then, it is a settled thing; and now, my lord, will you obtain for me an audience with the queen?”
+
+“For what purpose?”
+
+“I wish to receive her majesty’s commands from her own lips.”
+
+“She desired me to give them to you.”
+
+“She may have forgotten something.”
+
+“You really wish to see her?”
+
+“It is indispensable, my lord.”
+
+Mazarin hesitated for one instant, but D’Artagnan was firm.
+
+“Come, then,” said the minister; “I will conduct you to her, but remember, not one word of our conversation.”
+
+“What has passed between us concerns ourselves alone, my lord,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“Swear to be mute.”
+
+“I never swear, my lord, I say yes or no; and, as I am a gentleman, I keep my word.”
+
+“Come, then, I see that I must trust unreservedly to you.”
+
+“Believe me, my lord, it will be your best plan.”
+
+“Come,” said Mazarin, conducting D’Artagnan into the queen’s oratory and desiring him to wait there. He did not wait long, for in five minutes the queen entered in full gala costume. Thus dressed she scarcely appeared thirty-five years of age. She was still exceedingly handsome.
+
+“It is you, Monsieur D’Artagnan,” she said, smiling graciously; “I thank you for having insisted on seeing me.”
+
+“I ought to ask your majesty’s pardon, but I wished to receive your commands from your own mouth.”
+
+“Do you accept the commission which I have intrusted to you?”
+
+“With gratitude.”
+
+“Very well, be here at midnight.”
+
+“I will not fail.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” continued the queen, “I know your disinterestedness too well to speak of my own gratitude at such a moment, but I swear to you that I shall not forget this second service as I forgot the first.”
+
+“Your majesty is free to forget or to remember, as it pleases you; and I know not what you mean,” said D’Artagnan, bowing.
+
+“Go, sir,” said the queen, with her most bewitching smile, “go and return at midnight.”
+
+And D’Artagnan retired, but as he passed out he glanced at the curtain through which the queen had entered and at the bottom of the tapestry he remarked the tip of a velvet slipper.
+
+“Good,” thought he; “Mazarin has been listening to discover whether I betrayed him. In truth, that Italian puppet does not deserve the services of an honest man.”
+
+D’Artagnan was not less exact to his appointment and at half-past nine o’clock he entered the ante-room.
+
+He found the cardinal dressed as an officer, and he looked very well in that costume, which, as we have already said, he wore elegantly; only he was very pale and trembled slightly.
+
+“Quite alone?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“And that worthy Monsieur du Vallon, are we not to enjoy his society?”
+
+“Certainly, my lord; he is waiting in his carriage at the gate of the garden of the Palais Royal.”
+
+“And we start in his carriage, then?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“And with us no other escort but you two?”
+
+“Is it not enough? One of us would suffice.”
+
+“Really, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal, “your coolness startles me.”
+
+“I should have thought, on the contrary, that it ought to have inspired you with confidence.”
+
+“And Bernouin — do I not take him with me?”
+
+“There is no room for him, he will rejoin your eminence.”
+
+“Let us go,” said Mazarin, “since everything must be done as you wish.”
+
+“My lord, there is time to draw back,” said D’Artagnan, “and your eminence is perfectly free.”
+
+“Not at all, not at all,” said Mazarin; “let us be off.”
+
+And so they descended the private stair, Mazarin leaning on the arm of D’Artagnan a hand the musketeer felt trembling. At last, after crossing the courts of the Palais Royal, where there still remained some of the conveyances of late guests, they entered the garden and reached the little gate. Mazarin attempted to open it by a key which he took from his pocket, but with such shaking fingers that he could not find the keyhole.
+
+“Give it to me,” said D’Artagnan, who when the gate was open deposited the key in his pocket, reckoning upon returning by that gate.
+
+The steps were already down and the door open. Mousqueton stood at the door and Porthos was inside the carriage.
+
+“Mount, my lord,” said D’Artagnan to Mazarin, who sprang into the carriage without waiting for a second bidding. D’Artagnan followed him, and Mousqueton, having closed the door, mounted behind the carriage with many groans. He had made some difficulties about going, under pretext that he still suffered from his wound, but D’Artagnan had said to him:
+
+“Remain if you like, my dear Monsieur Mouston, but I warn you that Paris will be burnt down to-night;” upon which Mousqueton had declared, without asking anything further, that he was ready to follow his master and Monsieur d’Artagnan to the end of the world.
+
+The carriage started at a measured pace, without betraying by the slightest sign that it contained people in a hurry. The cardinal wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and looked around him. On his left was Porthos, whilst D’Artagnan was on his right; each guarded a door and served as a rampart to him on either side. Before him, on the front seat, lay two pairs of pistols — one in front of Porthos and the other of D’Artagnan. About a hundred paces from the Palais Royal a patrol stopped the carriage.
+
+“Who goes?” asked the captain.
+
+“Mazarin!” replied D’Artagnan, bursting into a laugh. The cardinal’s hair stood on end. But the joke appeared an excellent one to the citizens, who, seeing the conveyance without escort and unarmed, would never have believed in the possibility of so great an imprudence.
+
+“A good journey to ye,” they cried, allowing it to pass.
+
+“Hem!” said D’Artagnan, “what does my lord think of that reply?”
+
+“Man of talent!” cried Mazarin.
+
+“In truth,” said Porthos, “I understand; but now — — ”
+
+About the middle of the Rue des Petits Champs they were stopped by a second patrol.
+
+“Who goes there?” inquired the captain of the patrol.
+
+“Keep back, my lord,” said D’Artagnan. And Mazarin buried himself so far behind the two friends that he disappeared, completely hidden between them.
+
+“Who goes there?” cried the same voice, impatiently whilst D’Artagnan perceived that they had rushed to the horses’ heads. But putting his head out of the carriage:
+
+“Eh! Planchet,” said he.
+
+The chief approached, and it was indeed Planchet; D’Artagnan had recognized the voice of his old servant.
+
+“How, sir!” said Planchet, “is it you?”
+
+“Eh! mon Dieu! yes, my good friend, this worthy Porthos has just received a sword wound and I am taking him to his country house at Saint Cloud.”
+
+“Oh! really,” said Planchet.
+
+“Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, “if you can still speak, say a word, my dear Porthos, to this good Planchet.”
+
+“Planchet, my friend,” said Porthos, in a melancholy voice, “I am very ill; should you meet a doctor you will do me a favor by sending him to me.”
+
+“Oh! good Heaven,” said Planchet, “what a misfortune! and how did it happen?”
+
+“I will tell you all about it,” replied Mousqueton.
+
+Porthos uttered a deep groan.
+
+“Make way for us, Planchet,” said D’Artagnan in a whisper to him, “or he will not arrive alive; the lungs are attacked, my friend.”
+
+Planchet shook his head with the air of a man who says, “In that case things look ill.” Then he exclaimed, turning to his men:
+
+“Let them pass; they are friends.”
+
+The carriage resumed its course, and Mazarin, who had held his breath, ventured to breathe again.
+
+“Bricconi!” muttered he.
+
+A few steps in advance of the gate of Saint Honore they met a third troop; this latter party was composed of ill-looking fellows, who resembled bandits more than anything else; they were the men of the beggar of Saint Eustache.
+
+“Attention, Porthos!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+Porthos placed his hand on the pistols.
+
+“What is it?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“My lord, I think we are in bad company.”
+
+A man advanced to the door with a kind of scythe in his hand. “Qui vive?” he asked.
+
+“Eh, rascal!” said D’Artagnan, “do you not recognize his highness the prince’s carriage?”
+
+“Prince or not,” said the man, “open. We are here to guard the gate, and no one whom we do not know shall pass.”
+
+“What is to be done?” said Porthos.
+
+“Pardieu! pass,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“But how?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“Through or over; coachman, gallop on.”
+
+The coachman raised his whip.
+
+“Not a step further,” said the man, who appeared to be the captain, “or I will hamstring your horses.”
+
+“Peste!” said Porthos, “it would be a pity; animals which cost me a hundred pistoles each.”
+
+“I will pay you two hundred for them,” said Mazarin.
+
+“Yes, but when once they are hamstrung, our necks will be strung next.”
+
+“If one of them comes to my side,” asked Porthos, “must I kill him?”
+
+“Yes, by a blow of your fist, if you can; we will not fire but at the last extremity.”
+
+“I can do it,” said Porthos.
+
+“Come and open, then!” cried D’Artagnan to the man with the scythe, taking one of the pistols up by the muzzle and preparing to strike with the handle. And as the man approached, D’Artagnan, in order to have more freedom for his actions, leaned half out of the door; his eyes were fixed upon those of the mendicant, which were lighted up by a lantern. Without doubt he recognized D’Artagnan, for he became deadly pale; doubtless the musketeer knew him, for his hair stood up on his head.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” he cried, falling back a step; “it is Monsieur d’Artagnan! let him pass.”
+
+D’Artagnan was perhaps about to reply, when a blow, similar to that of a mallet falling on the head of an ox, was heard. The noise was caused by Porthos, who had just knocked down his man.
+
+D’Artagnan turned around and saw the unfortunate man upon his back about four paces off.
+
+“‘Sdeath!” cried he to the coachman. “Spur your horses! whip! get on!”
+
+The coachman bestowed a heavy blow of the whip upon his horses; the noble animals bounded forward; then cries of men who were knocked down were heard; then a double concussion was felt, and two of the wheels seemed to pass over a round and flexible body. There was a moment’s silence, then the carriage cleared the gate.
+
+“To Cours la Reine!” cried D’Artagnan to the coachman; then turning to Mazarin he said, “Now, my lord, you can say five paters and five aves, in thanks to Heaven for your deliverance. You are safe — you are free.”
+
+Mazarin replied only by a groan; he could not believe in such a miracle. Five minutes later the carriage stopped, having reached Cours la Reine.
+
+“Is my lord pleased with his escort?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Enchanted, monsieur,” said Mazarin, venturing his head out of one of the windows; “and now do as much for the queen.”
+
+“It will not be so difficult,” replied D’Artagnan, springing to the ground. “Monsieur du Vallon, I commend his eminence to your care.”
+
+“Be quite at ease,” said Porthos, holding out his hand, which D’Artagnan took and shook in his.
+
+“Oh!” cried Porthos, as if in pain.
+
+D’Artagnan looked with surprise at his friend.
+
+“What is the matter, then?” he asked.
+
+“I think I have sprained my wrist,’ said Porthos.
+
+“The devil! why, you strike like a blind or a deaf man.”
+
+“It was necessary; my man was going to fire a pistol at me; but you — how did you get rid of yours?”
+
+“Oh, mine,” replied D’Artagnan, “was not a man.”
+
+“What was it then?”
+
+“It was an apparition.”
+
+“And — — ”
+
+“I charmed it away.”
+
+Without further explanation D’Artagnan took the pistols which were upon the front seat, placed them in his belt, wrapped himself in his cloak, and not wishing to enter by the same gate as that through which they had left, he took his way toward the Richelieu gate.
+
+Chapter LII. The Carriage of Monsieur le Coadjuteur.
+
+Instead of returning, then, by the Saint Honore gate, D’Artagnan, who had time before him, walked around and re-entered by the Porte Richelieu. He was approached to be examined, and when it was discovered by his plumed hat and his laced coat, that he was an officer of the musketeers, he was surrounded, with the intention of making him cry, “Down with Mazarin!” The demonstration did not fail to make him uneasy at first; but when he discovered what it meant, he shouted it in such a voice that even the most exacting were satisfied. He walked down the Rue Richelieu, meditating how he should carry off the queen in her turn, for to take her in a carriage bearing the arms of France was not to be thought of, when he perceived an equipage standing at the door of the hotel belonging to Madame de Guemenee.
+
+He was struck by a sudden idea.
+
+“Ah, pardieu!” he exclaimed; “that would be fair play.”
+
+And approaching the carriage, he examined the arms on the panels and the livery of the coachman on his box. This scrutiny was so much the more easy, the coachman being sound asleep.
+
+“It is, in truth, monsieur le coadjuteur’s carriage,” said D’Artagnan; “upon my honor I begin to think that Heaven favors us.”
+
+He mounted noiselessly into the chariot and pulled the silk cord which was attached to the coachman’s little finger.
+
+“To the Palais Royal,” he called out.
+
+The coachman awoke with a start and drove off in the direction he was desired, never doubting but that the order had come from his master. The porter at the palace was about to close the gates, but seeing such a handsome equipage he fancied that it was some visit of importance and the carriage was allowed to pass and to stop beneath the porch. It was then only the coachman perceived the grooms were not behind the vehicle; he fancied monsieur le coadjuteur had sent them back, and without dropping the reins he sprang from his box to open the door. D’Artagnan, in his turn, sprang to the ground, and just at the moment when the coachman, alarmed at not seeing his master, fell back a step, he seized him by his collar with the left, whilst with the right hand he placed the muzzle of a pistol at his breast.
+
+“Pronounce one single word,” muttered D’Artagnan, “and you are a dead man.”
+
+The coachman perceived at once, by the expression of the man who thus addressed him, that he had fallen into a trap, and he remained with his mouth wide open and his eyes portentously staring.
+
+Two musketeers were pacing the court, to whom D’Artagnan called by their names.
+
+“Monsieur de Belliere,” said he to one of them, “do me the favor to take the reins from the hands of this worthy man, mount upon the box and drive to the door of the private stair, and wait for me there; it is an affair of importance on the service of the king.”
+
+The musketeer, who knew that his lieutenant was incapable of jesting with regard to the service, obeyed without a word, although he thought the order strange. Then turning toward the second musketeer, D’Artagnan said:
+
+“Monsieur du Verger, help me to place this man in a place of safety.”
+
+The musketeer, thinking that his lieutenant had just arrested some prince in disguise, bowed, and drawing his sword, signified that he was ready. D’Artagnan mounted the staircase, followed by his prisoner, who in his turn was followed by the soldier, and entered Mazarin’s ante-room. Bernouin was waiting there, impatient for news of his master.
+
+“Well, sir?” he said.
+
+“Everything goes on capitally, my dear Monsieur Bernouin, but here is a man whom I must beg you to put in a safe place.”
+
+“Where, then, sir?”
+
+“Where you like, provided that the place which you shall choose has iron shutters secured by padlocks and a door that can be locked.”
+
+“We have that, sir,” replied Bernouin; and the poor coachman was conducted to a closet, the windows of which were barred and which looked very much like a prison.
+
+“And now, my good friend,” said D’Artagnan to him, “I must invite you to deprive yourself, for my sake, of your hat and cloak.”
+
+The coachman, as we can well understand, made no resistance; in fact, he was so astonished at what had happened to him that he stammered and reeled like a drunken man; D’Artagnan deposited his clothes under the arm of one of the valets.
+
+“And now, Monsieur du Verger,” he said, “shut yourself up with this man until Monsieur Bernouin returns to open the door. The duty will be tolerably long and not very amusing, I know; but,” added he, seriously, “you understand, it is on the king’s service.”
+
+“At your command, lieutenant,” replied the musketeer, who saw the business was a serious one.
+
+“By-the-bye,” continued D’Artagnan, “should this man attempt to fly or to call out, pass your sword through his body.”
+
+The musketeer signified by a nod that these commands should be obeyed to the letter, and D’Artagnan went out, followed by Bernouin. Midnight struck.
+
+“Lead me into the queen’s oratory,” said D’Artagnan, “announce to her I am here, and put this parcel, with a well-loaded musket, under the seat of the carriage which is waiting at the foot of the private stair.”
+
+Bernouin conducted D’Artagnan to the oratory, where he sat down pensively. Everything had gone on as usual at the Palais Royal. As we said before, by ten o’clock almost all the guests had dispersed; those who were to fly with the court had the word of command and they were each severally desired to be from twelve o’clock to one at Cours la Reine.
+
+At ten o’clock Anne of Austria had entered the king’s room. Monsieur had just retired, and the youthful Louis, remaining the last, was amusing himself by placing some lead soldiers in a line of battle, a game which delighted him much. Two royal pages were playing with him.
+
+“Laporte,” said the queen, “it is time for his majesty to go to bed.”
+
+The king asked to remain up, having, he said, no wish to sleep; but the queen was firm.
+
+“Are you not going to-morrow morning at six o’clock, Louis, to bathe at Conflans? I think you wished to do so of your own accord?”
+
+“You are right, madame,” said the king, “and I am ready to retire to my room when you have kissed me. Laporte, give the light to Monsieur the Chevalier de Coislin.”
+
+The queen touched with her lips the white, smooth brow the royal child presented to her with a gravity which already partook of etiquette.
+
+“Go to sleep soon, Louis,” said the queen, “for you must be awakened very early.”
+
+“I will do my best to obey you, madame,” said the youthful king, “but I have no inclination to sleep.”
+
+“Laporte,” said Anne of Austria, in an undertone, “find some very dull book to read to his majesty, but do not undress yourself.”
+
+The king went out, accompanied by the Chevalier de Coislin, bearing the candlestick, and then the queen returned to her own apartment. Her ladies — that is to say Madame de Bregy, Mademoiselle de Beaumont, Madame de Motteville, and Socratine, her sister, so called on account of her sense — had just brought into her dressing-room the remains of the dinner, on which, according to her usual custom, she supped. The queen then gave her orders, spoke of a banquet which the Marquis de Villequier was to give to her on the day after the morrow, indicated the persons she would admit to the honor of partaking of it, announced another visit on the following day to Val-de-Grace, where she intended to pay her devotions, and gave her commands to her senior valet to accompany her. When the ladies had finished their supper the queen feigned extreme fatigue and passed into her bedroom. Madame de Motteville, who was on especial duty that evening, followed to aid and undress her. The queen then began to read, and after conversing with her affectionately for a few minutes, dismissed her.
+
+It was at this moment D’Artagnan entered the courtyard of the palace, in the coadjutor’s carriage, and a few seconds later the carriages of the ladies-in-waiting drove out and the gates were shut after them.
+
+A few minutes after twelve o’clock Bernouin knocked at the queen’s bedroom door, having come by the cardinal’s secret corridor. Anne of Austria opened the door to him herself. She was dressed, that is to say, in dishabille, wrapped in a long, warm dressing-gown.
+
+“It is you, Bernouin,” she said. “Is Monsieur d’Artagnan there?”
+
+“Yes, madame, in your oratory. He is waiting till your majesty is ready.”
+
+“I am. Go and tell Laporte to wake and dress the king, and then pass on to the Marechal de Villeroy and summon him to me.”
+
+Bernouin bowed and retired.
+
+The queen entered her oratory, which was lighted by a single lamp of Venetian crystal, She saw D’Artagnan, who stood expecting her.
+
+“Is it you?” she said.
+
+“Yes, madame.”
+
+“Are you ready?”
+
+“I am.”
+
+“And his eminence, the cardinal?”
+
+“Has got off without any accident. He is awaiting your majesty at Cours la Reine.”
+
+“But in what carriage do we start?”
+
+“I have provided for everything; a carriage below is waiting for your majesty.”
+
+“Let us go to the king.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed and followed the queen. The young Louis was already dressed, with the exception of his shoes and doublet; he had allowed himself to be dressed, in great astonishment, overwhelming Laporte with questions, who replied only in these words, “Sire, it is by the queen’s commands.”
+
+The bedclothes were thrown back, exposing the king’s bed linen, which was so worn that here and there holes could be seen. It was one of the results of Mazarin’s niggardliness.
+
+The queen entered and D’Artagnan remained at the door. As soon as the child perceived the queen he escaped from Laporte and ran to meet her. Anne then motioned to D’Artagnan to approach, and he obeyed.
+
+“My son,” said Anne of Austria, pointing to the musketeer, calm, standing uncovered, “here is Monsieur d’Artagnan, who is as brave as one of those ancient heroes of whom you like so much to hear from my women. Remember his name well and look at him well, that his face may not be forgotten, for this evening he is going to render us a great service.”
+
+The young king looked at the officer with his large-formed eye, and repeated:
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“That is it, my son.”
+
+The young king slowly raised his little hand and held it out to the musketeer; the latter bent on his knee and kissed it.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” repeated Louis; “very well, madame.”
+
+At this moment they were startled by a noise as if a tumult were approaching.
+
+“What is that?” exclaimed the queen.
+
+“Oh, oh!” replied D’Artagnan, straining both at the same time his quick ear and his intelligent glance, “it is the murmur of the populace in revolution.”
+
+“We must fly,” said the queen.
+
+“Your majesty has given me the control of this business; we had better wait and see what they want.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!”
+
+“I will answer for everything.”
+
+Nothing is so catching as confidence. The queen, full of energy and courage, was quickly alive to these two virtues in others.
+
+“Do as you like,” she said, “I rely upon you.”
+
+“Will your majesty permit me to give orders in your name throughout this business?”
+
+“Command, sir.”
+
+“What do the people want this time?” demanded the king.
+
+“We are about to ascertain, sire,” replied D’Artagnan, as he rapidly left the room.
+
+The tumult continued to increase and seemed to surround the Palais Royal entirely. Cries were heard from the interior, of which they could not comprehend the sense. It was evident that there was clamor and sedition.
+
+The king, half dressed, the queen and Laporte remained each in the same state and almost in the same place, where they were listening and waiting. Comminges, who was on guard that night at the Palais Royal, ran in. He had about two hundred men in the courtyards and stables, and he placed them at the queen’s disposal.
+
+“Well,” asked Anne of Austria, when D’Artagnan reappeared, “what does it mean?”
+
+“It means, madame, that the report has spread that the queen has left the Palais Royal, carrying off the king, and the people ask to have proof to the contrary, or threaten to demolish the Palais Royal.”
+
+“Oh, this time it is too much!” exclaimed the queen, “and I will prove to them I have not left.”
+
+D’Artagnan saw from the expression of the queen’s face that she was about to issue some violent command. He approached her and said in a low voice:
+
+“Has your majesty still confidence in me?”
+
+This voice startled her. “Yes, sir,” she replied, “every confidence; speak.”
+
+“Will the queen deign to follow my advice?”
+
+“Speak.”
+
+“Let your majesty dismiss M. de Comminges and desire him to shut himself up with his men in the guardhouse and in the stables.”
+
+Comminges glanced at D’Artagnan with the envious look with which every courtier sees a new favorite spring up.
+
+“You hear, Comminges?” said the queen.
+
+D’Artagnan went up to him; with his usual quickness he caught the anxious glance.
+
+“Monsieur de Comminges,” he said, “pardon me; we both are servants of the queen, are we not? It is my turn to be of use to her; do not envy me this happiness.”
+
+Comminges bowed and left.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan to himself, “I have got one more enemy.”
+
+“And now,” said the queen, addressing D’Artagnan, “what is to be done? for you hear that, instead of becoming calmer, the noise increases.”
+
+“Madame,” said D’Artagnan, “the people want to see the king and they must see him.”
+
+“What! must see him! Where — on the balcony?”
+
+“Not at all, madame, but here, sleeping in his bed.”
+
+“Oh, your majesty,” exclaimed Laporte, “Monsieur d’Artagnan is right.”
+
+The queen became thoughtful and smiled, like a woman to whom duplicity is no stranger.
+
+“Without doubt,” she murmured.
+
+“Monsieur Laporte,” said D’Artagnan, “go and announce to the people through the grating that they are going to be satisfied and that in five minutes they shall not only see the king, but they shall see him in bed; add that the king sleeps and that the queen begs that they will keep silence, so as not to awaken him.”
+
+“But not every one; a deputation of two or four people.”
+
+“Every one, madame.”
+
+“But reflect, they will keep us here till daybreak.”
+
+“It shall take but a quarter of an hour, I answer for everything, madame; believe me, I know the people; they are like a great child, who only wants humoring. Before the sleeping king they will be mute, gentle and timid as lambs.”
+
+“Go, Laporte,” said the queen.
+
+The young king approached his mother and said, “Why do as these people ask?”
+
+“It must be so, my son,” said Anne of Austria.
+
+“But if they say, ‘it must be’ to me, am I no longer king?”
+
+The queen remained silent.
+
+“Sire,” said D’Artagnan, “will your majesty permit me to ask you a question?”
+
+Louis XIV. turned around, astonished that any one should dare to address him. But the queen pressed the child’s hand.
+
+“Yes, sir.” he said.
+
+“Does your majesty remember, when playing in the park of Fontainebleau, or in the palace courts at Versailles, ever to have seen the sky grow suddenly dark and heard the sound of thunder?”
+
+“Yes, certainly.”
+
+“Well, then, this noise of thunder, however much your majesty may have wished to continue playing, has said, ‘go in, sire. You must do so.’”
+
+“Certainly, sir; but they tell me that the noise of thunder is the voice of God.”
+
+“Well then, sire,” continued D’Artagnan, “listen to the noise of the people; you will perceive that it resembles that of thunder.”
+
+In truth at that moment a terrible murmur was wafted to them by the night breeze; then all at once it ceased.
+
+“Hold, sire,” said D’Artagnan, “they have just told the people that you are asleep; you see, you still are king.”
+
+The queen looked with surprise at this strange man, whose brilliant courage made him the equal of the bravest, and who was, by his fine and quick intelligence, the equal of the most astute.
+
+Laporte entered.
+
+“Well, Laporte?” asked the queen.
+
+“Madame,” he replied, “Monsieur d’Artagnan’s prediction has been accomplished; they are calm, as if by enchantment. The doors are about to be opened and in five minutes they will be here.”
+
+“Laporte,” said the queen, “suppose you put one of your sons in the king’s place; we might be off during the time.”
+
+“If your majesty desires it,” said Laporte, “my sons, like myself, are at the queen’s service.”
+
+“Not at all,” said D’Artagnan; “should one of them know his majesty and discover but a substitute, all would be lost.”
+
+“You are right, sir, always right,” said Anne of Austria. “Laporte, place the king in bed.”
+
+Laporte placed the king, dressed as he was, in the bed and then covered him as far as the shoulders with the sheet. The queen bent over him and kissed his brow.
+
+“Pretend to sleep, Louis,” said she.
+
+“Yes,” said the king, “but I do not wish to be touched by any of those men.”
+
+“Sire, I am here,” said D’Artagnan, “and I give you my word, that if a single man has the audacity, his life shall pay for it.”
+
+“And now what is to be done?” asked the queen, “for I hear them.”
+
+“Monsieur Laporte, go to them and again recommend silence. Madame, wait at the door, whilst I shall be at the head of the king’s bed, ready to die for him.”
+
+Laporte went out; the queen remained standing near the hangings, whilst D’Artagnan glided behind the curtains.
+
+Then the heavy and collected steps of a multitude of men were heard, and the queen herself raised the tapestry hangings and put her finger on her lips.
+
+On seeing the queen, the men stopped short, respectfully.
+
+“Enter, gentlemen, enter,” said the queen.
+
+There was then amongst that crowd a moment’s hesitation, which looked like shame. They had expected resistance, they had expected to be thwarted, to have to force the gates, to overturn the guards. The gates had opened of themselves, and the king, ostensibly at least, had no other guard at his bed-head but his mother. The foremost of them stammered and attempted to fall back.
+
+“Enter, gentlemen,” said Laporte, “since the queen desires you so to do.”
+
+Then one more bold than the rest ventured to pass the door and to advance on tiptoe. This example was imitated by the rest, until the room filled silently, as if these men had been the humblest, most devoted courtiers. Far beyond the door the heads of those who were not able to enter could be seen, all craning to their utmost height to try and see.
+
+D’Artagnan saw it all through an opening he had made in the curtain, and in the very first man who entered he recognized Planchet.
+
+“Sir,” said the queen to him, thinking he was the leader of the band, “you wished to see the king and therefore I determined to show him to you myself. Approach and look at him and say if we have the appearance of people who wish to run away.”
+
+“No, certainly,” replied Planchet, rather astonished at the unexpected honor conferred upon him.
+
+“You will say, then, to my good and faithful Parisians,” continued Anne, with a smile, the expression of which did not deceive D’Artagnan, “that you have seen the king in bed, asleep, and the queen also ready to retire.”
+
+“I shall tell them, madame, and those who accompany me will say the same thing; but — — ”
+
+“But what?” asked Anne of Austria.
+
+“Will your majesty pardon me,” said Planchet, “but is it really the king who is lying there?”
+
+Anne of Austria started. “If,” she said, “there is one among you who knows the king, let him approach and say whether it is really his majesty lying there.”
+
+A man wrapped in a cloak, in the folds of which his face was hidden, approached and leaned over the bed and looked.
+
+For one second, D’Artagnan thought the man had some evil design and he put his hand to his sword; but in the movement made by the man in stooping a portion of his face was uncovered and D’Artagnan recognized the coadjutor.
+
+“It is certainly the king,” said the man, rising again. “God bless his majesty!”
+
+“Yes,” repeated the leader in a whisper, “God bless his majesty!” and all these men, who had entered enraged, passed from anger to pity and blessed the royal infant in their turn.
+
+“Now,” said Planchet, “let us thank the queen. My friends, retire.”
+
+They all bowed, and retired by degrees as noiselessly as they had entered. Planchet, who had been the first to enter, was the last to leave. The queen stopped him.
+
+“What is your name, my friend?” she said.
+
+Planchet, much surprised at the inquiry, turned back.
+
+“Yes,” continued the queen, “I think myself as much honored to have received you this evening as if you had been a prince, and I wish to know your name.”
+
+“Yes,” thought Planchet, “to treat me as a prince. No, thank you.”
+
+D’Artagnan trembled lest Planchet, seduced, like the crow in the fable, should tell his name, and that the queen, knowing his name, would discover that Planchet had belonged to him.
+
+“Madame,” replied Planchet, respectfully, “I am called Dulaurier, at your service.”
+
+“Thank you, Monsieur Dulaurier,” said the queen; “and what is your business?”
+
+“Madame, I am a clothier in the Rue Bourdonnais.”
+
+“That is all I wished to know,” said the queen. “Much obliged to you, Monsieur Dulaurier. You will hear again from me.”
+
+“Come, come,” thought D’Artagnan, emerging from behind the curtain, “decidedly Monsieur Planchet is no fool; it is evident he has been brought up in a good school.”
+
+The different actors in this strange scene remained facing one another, without uttering a single word; the queen standing near the door, D’Artagnan half out of his hiding place, the king raised on his elbow, ready to fall down on his bed again at the slightest sound that would indicate the return of the multitude, but instead of approaching, the noise became more and more distant and very soon it died entirely away.
+
+The queen breathed more freely. D’Artagnan wiped his damp forehead and the king slid off his bed, saying, “Let us go.”
+
+At this moment Laporte reappeared.
+
+“Well?” asked the queen
+
+“Well, madame,” replied the valet, “I followed them as far as the gates. They announced to all their comrades that they had seen the king and that the queen had spoken to them; and, in fact, they went away quite proud and happy.”
+
+“Oh, the miserable wretches!” murmured the queen, “they shall pay dearly for their boldness, and it is I who promise this.”
+
+Then turning to D’Artagnan, she said:
+
+“Sir, you have given me this evening the best advice I have ever received. Continue, and say what we must do now.”
+
+“Monsieur Laporte,” said D’Artagnan, “finish dressing his majesty.”
+
+“We may go, then?” asked the queen.
+
+“Whenever your majesty pleases. You have only to descend by the private stairs and you will find me at the door.”
+
+“Go, sir,” said the queen; “I will follow you.”
+
+D’Artagnan went down and found the carriage at its post and the musketeer on the box. D’Artagnan took out the parcel which he had desired Bernouin to place under the seat. It may be remembered that it was the hat and cloak belonging to Monsieur de Gondy’s coachman.
+
+He placed the cloak on his shoulders and the hat on his head, whilst the musketeer got off the box.
+
+“Sir,” said D’Artagnan, “you will go and release your companion, who is guarding the coachman. You must mount your horse and proceed to the Rue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette, whence you will take my horse and that of Monsieur du Vallon, which you must saddle and equip as if for war, and then you will leave Paris, bringing them with you to Cours la Reine. If, when you arrive at Cours la Reine, you find no one, you must go on to Saint Germain. On the king’s service.”
+
+The musketeer touched his cap and went away to execute the orders thus received.
+
+D’Artagnan mounted the box, having a pair of pistols in his belt, a musket under his feet and a naked sword behind him.
+
+The queen appeared, and was followed by the king and the Duke d’Anjou, his brother.
+
+“Monsieur the coadjutor’s carriage!” she exclaimed, falling back.
+
+“Yes, madame,” said D’Artagnan; “but get in fearlessly, for I myself will drive you.”
+
+The queen uttered a cry of surprise and entered the carriage, and the king and monsieur took their places at her side.
+
+“Come, Laporte,” said the queen.
+
+“How, madame!” said the valet, “in the same carriage as your majesties?”
+
+“It is not a matter of royal etiquette this evening, but of the king’s safety. Get in, Laporte.”
+
+Laporte obeyed.
+
+“Pull down the blinds,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“But will that not excite suspicion, sir?” asked the queen.
+
+“Your majesty’s mind may be quite at ease,” replied the officer; “I have my answer ready.”
+
+The blinds were pulled down and they started at a gallop by the Rue Richelieu. On reaching the gate the captain of the post advanced at the head of a dozen men, holding a lantern in his hand.
+
+D’Artagnan signed to them to draw near.
+
+“Do you recognize the carriage?” he asked the sergeant.
+
+“No,” replied the latter.
+
+“Look at the arms.”
+
+The sergeant put the lantern near the panel.
+
+“They are those of monsieur le coadjuteur,” he said.
+
+“Hush; he is enjoying a ride with Madame de Guemenee.”
+
+The sergeant began to laugh.
+
+“Open the gate,” he cried. “I know who it is!” Then putting his face to the lowered blinds, he said:
+
+“I wish you joy, my lord!”
+
+“Impudent fellow!” cried D’Artagnan, “you will get me turned off.”
+
+The gate groaned on its hinges, and D’Artagnan, seeing the way clear, whipped his horses, who started at a canter, and five minutes later they had rejoined the cardinal.
+
+“Mousqueton!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, “draw up the blinds of his majesty’s carriage.”
+
+“It is he!” cried Porthos.
+
+“Disguised as a coachman!” exclaimed Mazarin.
+
+“And driving the coadjutor’s carriage!” said the queen.
+
+“Corpo di Dio! Monsieur d’Artagnan!” said Mazarin, “you are worth your weight in gold.”
+
+Chapter LIII. How D’Artagnan and Porthos earned by selling Straw.
+
+Mazarin was desirous of setting out instantly for Saint Germain, but the queen declared that she should wait for the people whom she had appointed to meet her. However, she offered the cardinal Laporte’s place, which he accepted and went from one carriage to the other.
+
+It was not without foundation that a report of the king’s intention to leave Paris by night had been circulated. Ten or twelve persons had been in the secret since six o’clock, and howsoever great their prudence might be, they could not issue the necessary orders for the departure without suspicion being generated. Besides, each individual had one or two others for whom he was interested; and as there could be no doubt but that the queen was leaving Paris full of terrible projects of vengeance, every one had warned parents and friends of what was about to transpire; so that the news of the approaching exit ran like a train of lighted gunpowder along the streets.
+
+The first carriage which arrived after that of the queen was that of the Prince de Condé, with the princess and dowager princess. Both these ladies had been awakened in the middle of the night and did not know what it all was about. The second contained the Duke and Duchess of Orleans, the tall young Mademoiselle and the Abbé de la Riviere; and the third, the Duke de Longueville and the Prince de Conti, brother and brother-in-law of Condé. They all alighted and hastened to pay their respects to the king and queen in their coach. The queen fixed her eyes upon the carriage they had left, and seeing that it was empty, she said:
+
+“But where is Madame de Longueville?”
+
+“Ah, yes, where is my sister?” asked the prince.
+
+“Madame de Longueville is ill,” said the duke, “and she desired me to excuse her to your majesty.”
+
+Anne gave a quick glance to Mazarin, who answered by an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
+
+“What do you say of this?” asked the queen.
+
+“I say that she is a hostage for the Parisians,” answered the cardinal.
+
+“Why is she not come?” asked the prince in a low voice, addressing his brother.
+
+“Silence,” whispered the duke, “she has her reasons.”
+
+“She will ruin us!” returned the prince.
+
+“She will save us,” said Conti.
+
+Carriages now arrived in crowds; those of the Marechal de Villeroy, Guitant, Villequier and Comminges came into the line. The two musketeers arrived in their turn, holding the horses of D’Artagnan and Porthos in their hands. These two instantly mounted, the coachman of the latter replacing D’Artagnan on the coach-box of the royal coach. Mousqueton took the place of the coachman, and drove standing, for reasons known to himself, like Automedon of antiquity.
+
+The queen, though occupied by a thousand details, tried to catch the Gascon’s eye; but he, with his wonted prudence, had mingled with the crowd.
+
+“Let us be the avant guard,” said he to Porthos, “and find good quarters at Saint Germain; nobody will think of us, and for my part I am greatly fatigued.”
+
+“As for me,” replied Porthos, “I am falling asleep, which is strange, considering we have not had any fighting; truly the Parisians are idiots.”
+
+“Or rather, we are very clever,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+“And how is your wrist?”
+
+“Better; but do you think that we’ve got them this time?”
+
+“Got what?”
+
+“You your command, and I my title?”
+
+“I’faith! yes — I should expect so; besides, if they forget, I shall take the liberty of reminding them.”
+
+“The queen’s voice! she is speaking,” said Porthos; “I think she wants to ride on horseback.”
+
+“Oh, she would like it, but — — ”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“The cardinal won’t allow it. Gentlemen,” he said, addressing the two musketeers, “accompany the royal carriage, we are going forward to look for lodgings.”
+
+D’Artagnan started off for Saint Germain, followed by Porthos.
+
+“We will go on, gentlemen,” said the queen.
+
+And the royal carriage drove on, followed by the other coaches and about fifty horsemen.
+
+They reached Saint German without any accident; on descending, the queen found the prince awaiting her, bare-headed, to offer her his hand.
+
+“What an awakening for the Parisians!” said the queen, radiant.
+
+“It is war,” said the prince.
+
+“Well, then, let it be war! Have we not on our side the conqueror of Rocroy, of Nordlingen, of Lens?”
+
+The prince bowed low.
+
+It was then three o’clock in the morning. The queen walked first, every one followed her. About two hundred persons had accompanied her in her flight.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the queen, laughing, “pray take up your abode in the chateau; it is large, and there will be no want of room for you all; but, as we never thought of coming here, I am informed that there are, in all, only three beds in the whole establishment, one for the king, one for me — — ”
+
+“And one for the cardinal,” muttered the prince.
+
+“Am I — am I, then, to sleep on the floor?” asked Gaston d’Orleans, with a forced smile.
+
+“No, my prince,” replied Mazarin, “the third bed is intended for your highness.”
+
+“But your eminence?” replied the prince.
+
+“I,” answered Mazarin, “I shall not sleep at all; I have work to do.”
+
+Gaston desired that he should be shown into the room wherein he was to sleep, without in the least concerning himself as to where his wife and daughter were to repose.
+
+“Well, for my part, I shall go to bed,” said D’Artagnan; “come, Porthos.”
+
+Porthos followed the lieutenant with that profound confidence he ever had in the wisdom of his friend. They walked from one end of the chateau to the other, Porthos looking with wondering eyes at D’Artagnan, who was counting on his fingers.
+
+“Four hundred, at a pistole each, four hundred pistoles.”
+
+“Yes,” interposed Porthos, “four hundred pistoles; but who is to make four hundred pistoles?”
+
+“A pistole is not enough,” said D’Artagnan, “’tis worth a louis.”
+
+“What is worth a louis?”
+
+“Four hundred, at a louis each, make four hundred louis.”
+
+“Four hundred?” said Porthos.
+
+“Yes, there are two hundred of them, and each of them will need two, which will make four hundred.”
+
+“But four hundred what?”
+
+“Listen!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+But as there were all kinds of people about, who were in a state of stupefaction at the unexpected arrival of the court, he whispered in his friend’s ear.
+
+“I understand,” answered Porthos, “I understand you perfectly, on my honor; two hundred louis, each of us, would be making a pretty thing of it; but what will people say?”
+
+“Let them say what they will; besides, how will they know that we are doing it?”
+
+“But who will distribute these things?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Isn’t Mousqueton there?”
+
+“But he wears my livery; my livery will be known,” replied Porthos.
+
+“He can turn his coat inside out.”
+
+“You are always in the right, my dear friend,” cried Porthos; “but where the devil do you discover all the notions you put into practice?”
+
+D’Artagnan smiled. The two friends turned down the first street they came to. Porthos knocked at the door of a house to the right, whilst D’Artagnan knocked at the door of a house to the left.
+
+“Some straw,” they said.
+
+“Sir, we don’t keep any,” was the reply of the people who opened the doors; “but please ask at the hay dealer’s.”
+
+“Where is the hay dealer’s?”
+
+“At the last large door in the street.”
+
+“Are there any other people in Saint Germain who sell straw?”
+
+“Yes; there’s the landlord of the Lamb, and Gros-Louis the farmer; they both live in the Rue des Ursulines.”
+
+“Very well.”
+
+D’Artagnan went instantly to the hay dealer and bargained with him for a hundred and fifty trusses of straw, which he obtained, at the rate of three pistoles each. He went afterward to the innkeeper and bought from him two hundred trusses at the same price. Finally, Farmer Louis sold them eighty trusses, making in all four hundred and thirty.
+
+There was no more to be had in Saint Germain. This foraging did not occupy more than half an hour. Mousqueton, duly instructed, was put at the head of this sudden and new business. He was cautioned not to let a bit of straw out of his hands under a louis the truss, and they intrusted to him straw to the amount of four hundred and thirty louis. D’Artagnan, taking with him three trusses of straw, returned to the chateau, where everybody, freezing with cold and more than half asleep, envied the king, the queen, and the Duke of Orleans, on their camp beds. The lieutenant’s entrance produced a burst of laughter in the great drawing-room; but he did not appear to notice that he was the object of general attention, but began to arrange, with so much cleverness, nicety and gayety, his straw bed, that the mouths of all these poor creatures, who could not go to sleep, began to water.
+
+“Straw!” they all cried out, “straw! where is there any to be found?”
+
+“I can show you,” answered the Gascon.
+
+And he conducted them to Mousqueton, who freely distributed the trusses at the rate of a louis apiece. It was thought rather dear, but people wanted to sleep, and who would not give even two or three louis for a few hours of sound sleep?
+
+D’Artagnan gave up his bed to any one who wanted it, making it over about a dozen times; and since he was supposed to have paid, like the others, a louis for his truss of straw, he pocketed in that way thirty louis in less than half an hour. At five o’clock in the morning the straw was worth eighty francs a truss and there was no more to be had.
+
+D’Artagnan had taken the precaution to set apart four trusses for his own use. He put in his pocket the key of the room where he had hidden them, and accompanied by Porthos returned to settle with Mousqueton, who, naively, and like the worthy steward that he was, handed them four hundred and thirty louis and kept one hundred for himself.
+
+Mousqueton, who knew nothing of what was going on in the chateau, wondered that the idea had not occurred to him sooner. D’Artagnan put the gold in his hat, and in going back to the chateau settled the reckoning with Porthos, each of them had cleared two hundred and fifteen louis.
+
+Porthos, however, found that he had no straw left for himself. He returned to Mousqueton, but the steward had sold the last wisp. He then repaired to D’Artagnan, who, thanks to his four trusses of straw, was in the act of making up and tasting, by anticipation, the luxury of a bed so soft, so well stuffed at the head, so well covered at the foot, that it would have excited the envy of the king himself, if his majesty had not been fast asleep in his own. D’Artagnan could on no account consent to pull his bed to pieces again for Porthos, but for a consideration of four louis that the latter paid him for it, he consented that Porthos should share his couch with him. He laid his sword at the head, his pistols by his side, stretched his cloak over his feet, placed his felt hat on the top of his cloak and extended himself luxuriously on the straw, which rustled under him. He was already enjoying the sweet dream engendered by the possession of two hundred and nineteen louis, made in a quarter of an hour, when a voice was heard at the door of the hall, which made him stir.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” it cried.
+
+“Here!” cried Porthos, “here!”
+
+Porthos foresaw that if D’Artagnan was called away he should remain the sole possessor of the bed. An officer approached.
+
+“I am come to fetch you, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“From whom?”
+
+“His eminence sent me.”
+
+“Tell my lord that I’m going to sleep, and I advise him, as a friend, to do the same.”
+
+“His eminence is not gone to bed and will not go to bed, and wants you instantly.”
+
+“The devil take Mazarin, who does not know when to sleep at the proper time. What does he want with me? Is it to make me a captain? In that case I will forgive him.”
+
+And the musketeer rose, grumbling, took his sword, hat, pistols, and cloak, and followed the officer, whilst Porthos, alone and sole possessor of the bed, endeavored to follow the good example of falling asleep, which his predecessor had set him.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal, on perceiving him, “I have not forgotten with what zeal you have served me. I am going to prove to you that I have not.”
+
+“Good,” thought the Gascon, “this is a promising beginning.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” he resumed, “do you wish to become a captain?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“And your friend still longs to be made a baron?”
+
+“At this very moment, my lord, he no doubt dreams that he is one already.”
+
+“Then,” said Mazarin, taking from his portfolio the letter which he had already shown D’Artagnan, “take this dispatch and carry it to England.”
+
+D’Artagnan looked at the envelope; there was no address on it.
+
+“Am I not to know to whom to present it?”
+
+“You will know when you reach London; at London you may tear off the outer envelope.”
+
+“And what are my instructions?”
+
+“To obey in every particular the man to whom this letter is addressed. You must set out for Boulogne. At the Royal Arms of England you will find a young gentleman named Mordaunt.”
+
+“Yes, my lord; and what am I to do with this young gentleman?”
+
+“Follow wherever he leads you.”
+
+D’Artagnan looked at the cardinal with a stupefied air.
+
+“There are your instructions,” said Mazarin; “go!”
+
+“Go! ’tis easy to say so, but that requires money, and I haven’t any.”
+
+“Ah!” replied Mazarin, “so you have no money?”
+
+“None, my lord.”
+
+“But the diamond I gave you yesterday?”
+
+“I wish to keep it in remembrance of your eminence.”
+
+Mazarin sighed.
+
+“’Tis very dear living in England, my lord, especially as envoy extraordinary.”
+
+“Zounds!” replied Mazarin, “the people there are very sedate, and their habits, since the revolution, simple; but no matter.”
+
+He opened a drawer and took out a purse.
+
+“What do you say to a thousand crowns?”
+
+D’Artagnan pouted out his lower lip in a most extraordinary manner.
+
+“I reply, my lord, ’tis but little, as certainly I shall not go alone.”
+
+“I suppose not. Monsieur du Vallon, that worthy gentleman, for, with the exception of yourself, Monsieur d’Artagnan, there’s not a man in France that I esteem and love so much as him — — ”
+
+“Then, my lord,” replied D’Artagnan, pointing to the purse which Mazarin still held, “if you love and esteem him so much, you — understand me?”
+
+“Be it so! on his account I add two hundred crowns.”
+
+“Scoundrel!” muttered D’Artagnan. “But on our return,” he said aloud, “may we, that is, my friend and I, depend on having, he his barony, and I my promotion?”
+
+“On the honor of Mazarin.”
+
+“I should like another sort of oath better,” said D’Artagnan to himself; then aloud, “May I not offer my duty to her majesty the queen?”
+
+“Her majesty is asleep and you must set off directly,” replied Mazarin; “go, pray, sir — — ”
+
+“One word more, my lord; if there’s any fighting where I’m going, must I fight?”
+
+“You are to obey the commands of the personage to whom I have addressed the inclosed letter.”
+
+“’Tis well,” said D’Artagnan, holding out his hand to receive the money. “I offer my best respects and services to you, my lord.”
+
+D’Artagnan then, returning to the officer, said:
+
+“Sir, have the kindness also to awaken Monsieur du Vallon and to say ’tis by his eminence’s order, and that I shall await him at the stables.”
+
+The officer went off with an eagerness that showed the Gascon that he had some personal interest in the matter.
+
+Porthos was snoring most musically when some one touched him on the shoulder.
+
+“I come from the cardinal,” said the officer.
+
+“Heigho!” said Porthos, opening his large eyes; “what have you got to say?”
+
+“That his eminence has ordered you to England and that Monsieur d’Artagnan is waiting for you in the stables.”
+
+Porthos sighed heavily, arose, took his hat, his pistols, and his cloak, and departed, casting a look of regret upon the couch where he had hoped to sleep so well.
+
+No sooner had he turned his back than the officer laid himself down in it, and he had scarcely crossed the threshold before his successor, in his turn, was snoring immoderately. It was very natural, he being the only person in the whole assemblage, except the king, the queen, and the Duke of Orleans, who slept gratuitously.
+
+Chapter LIV. In which we hear Tidings of Aramis.
+
+D’Artagnan went straight to the stables; day was just dawning. He found his horse and that of Porthos fastened to the manger, but to an empty manger. He took pity on these poor animals and went to a corner of the stable, where he saw a little straw, but in doing so he struck his foot against a human body, which uttered a cry and arose on its knees, rubbing its eyes. It was Mousqueton, who, having no straw to lie upon, had helped himself to that of the horses.
+
+“Mousqueton,” cried D’Artagnan, “let us be off! Let us set off.”
+
+Mousqueton, recognizing the voice of his master’s friend, got up suddenly, and in doing so let fall some louis which he had appropriated to himself illegally during the night.
+
+“Ho! ho!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, picking up a louis and displaying it; “here’s a louis that smells confoundedly of straw.”
+
+Mousqueton blushed so confusedly that the Gascon began to laugh at him and said:
+
+“Porthos would be angry, my dear Monsieur Mousqueton, but I pardon you, only let us remember that this gold must serve us as a joke, so be gay — come along.”
+
+Mousqueton instantly assumed a jovial countenance, saddled the horses quickly and mounted his own without making faces over it.
+
+Whilst this went on, Porthos arrived with a very cross look on his face, and was astonished to find the lieutenant resigned and Mousqueton almost merry.
+
+“Ah, that’s it!” he cried, “you have your promotion and I my barony.”
+
+“We are going to fetch our brevets,” said D’Artagnan, “and when we come back, Master Mazarin will sign them.”
+
+“And where are we going?” asked Porthos.
+
+“To Paris first; I have affairs to settle.”
+
+And they both set out for Paris.
+
+On arriving at its gates they were astounded to see the threatening aspect of the capital. Around a broken-down carriage the people were uttering imprecations, whilst the persons who had attempted to escape were made prisoners — that is to say, an old man and two women. On the other hand, as the two friends approached to enter, they showed them every kind of civility, thinking them deserters from the royal party and wishing to bind them to their own.
+
+“What is the king doing?” they asked.
+
+“He is asleep.”
+
+“And the Spanish woman?”
+
+“Dreaming.”
+
+“And the cursed Italian?”
+
+“He is awake, so keep on the watch, as they are gone away; it’s for some purpose, rely on it. But as you are the strongest, after all,” continued D’Artagnan, “don’t be furious with old men and women, and keep your wrath for more appropriate occasions.”
+
+The people listened to these words and let go the ladies, who thanked D’Artagnan with an eloquent look.
+
+“Now! onward!” cried the Gascon.
+
+And they continued their way, crossing the barricades, getting the chains about their legs, pushed about, questioning and questioned.
+
+In the place of the Palais Royal D’Artagnan saw a sergeant, who was drilling six or seven hundred citizens. It was Planchet, who brought into play profitably the recollections of the regiment of Piedmont.
+
+In passing before D’Artagnan he recognized his former master.
+
+“Good-day, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Planchet proudly.
+
+“Good-day, Monsieur Dulaurier,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+Planchet stopped short, staring at D’Artagnan. The first row, seeing their sergeant stop, stopped in their turn, and so on to the very last.
+
+“These citizens are dreadfully ridiculous,” observed D’Artagnan to Porthos and went on his way.
+
+Five minutes afterward he entered the hotel of La Chevrette, where pretty Madeleine, the hostess, came to him.
+
+“My dear Mistress Turquaine,” said the Gascon, “if you happen to have any money, lock it up quickly; if you happen to have any jewels, hide them directly; if you happen to have any debtors, make them pay you, or any creditors, don’t pay them.”
+
+“Why, prithee?” asked Madeleine.
+
+“Because Paris is going to be reduced to dust and ashes like Babylon, of which you have no doubt heard tell.”
+
+“And are you going to leave me at such a time?”
+
+“This very instant.”
+
+“And where are you going?”
+
+“Ah, if you could tell me that, you would be doing me a service.”
+
+“Ah, me! ah, me!
+
+“Have you any letters for me?” inquired D’Artagnan, wishing to signify to the hostess that her lamentations were superfluous and that therefore she had better spare him demonstrations of her grief.
+
+“There’s one just arrived,” and she handed the letter to D’Artagnan.
+
+“From Athos!” cried D’Artagnan, recognizing the handwriting.
+
+“Ah!” said Porthos, “let us hear what he says.”
+
+D’Artagnan opened the letter and read as follows:
+
+“Dear D’Artagnan, dear Du Vallon, my good friends, perhaps this may be the last time that you will ever hear from me. Aramis and I are very unhappy; but God, our courage, and the remembrance of our friendship sustain us. Think often of Raoul. I intrust to you certain papers which are at Blois; and in two months and a half, if you do not hear of us, take possession of them.
+
+“Embrace, with all your heart, the vicomte, for your devoted, friend,
+
+“ATHOS.”
+
+“I believe, by Heaven,” said D’Artagnan, “that I shall embrace him, since he’s upon our road; and if he is so unfortunate as to lose our dear Athos, from that very day he becomes my son.”
+
+“And I,” said Porthos, “shall make him my sole heir.”
+
+“Let us see, what more does Athos say?”
+
+“Should you meet on your journey a certain Monsieur Mordaunt, distrust him, in a letter I cannot say more.”
+
+“Monsieur Mordaunt!” exclaimed the Gascon, surprised.
+
+“Monsieur Mordaunt! ’tis well,” said Porthos, “we shall remember that; but see, there is a postscript from Aramis.”
+
+“So there is,” said D’Artagnan, and he read:
+
+“We conceal the place where we are, dear friends, knowing your brotherly affection and that you would come and die with us were we to reveal it.”
+
+“Confound it,” interrupted Porthos, with an explosion of passion which sent Mousqueton to the other end of the room; “are they in danger of dying?”
+
+D’Artagnan continued:
+
+“Athos bequeaths to you Raoul, and I bequeath to you my revenge. If by any good luck you lay your hand on a certain man named Mordaunt, tell Porthos to take him into a corner and to wring his neck. I dare not say more in a letter.
+
+“ARAMIS.”
+
+“If that is all, it is easily done,” said Porthos.
+
+“On the contrary,” observed D’Artagnan, with a vexed look; “it would be impossible.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“It is precisely this Monsieur Mordaunt whom we are going to join at Boulogne and with whom we cross to England.”
+
+“Well, suppose instead of joining this Monsieur Mordaunt we were to go and join our friends?” said Porthos, with a gesture fierce enough to have frightened an army.
+
+“I did think of it, but this letter has neither date nor postmark.”
+
+“True,” said Porthos. And he began to wander about the room like a man beside himself, gesticulating and half drawing his sword out of the scabbard.
+
+As to D’Artagnan, he remained standing like a man in consternation, with the deepest affliction depicted on his face.
+
+“Ah, this is not right; Athos insults us; he wishes to die alone; it is bad, bad, bad.”
+
+Mousqueton, witnessing this despair, melted into tears in a corner of the room.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan, “all this leads to nothing. Let us go on. We will embrace Raoul, and perhaps he will have news of Athos.”
+
+“Stop — an idea!” cried Porthos; “indeed, my dear D’Artagnan, I don’t know how you manage, but you are always full of ideas; let us go and embrace Raoul.”
+
+“Woe to that man who should happen to contradict my master at this moment,” said Mousqueton to himself; “I wouldn’t give a farthing for his life.”
+
+They set out. On arriving at the Rue Saint Denis, the friends found a vast concourse of people. It was the Duc de Beaufort, who was coming from the Vendomois and whom the coadjutor was showing to the Parisians, intoxicated with joy. With the duke’s aid they already considered themselves invincible.
+
+The two friends turned off into a side street to avoid meeting the prince, and so reached the Saint Denis gate.
+
+“Is it true,” said the guard to the two cavaliers, “that the Duc de Beaufort has arrived in Paris?”
+
+“Nothing more certain; and the best proof of it is,” said D’Artagnan, “that he has dispatched us to meet the Duc de Vendome, his father, who is coming in his turn.”
+
+“Long live De Beaufort!” cried the guards, and they drew back respectfully to let the two friends pass. Once across the barriers these two knew neither fatigue nor fear. Their horses flew, and they never ceased speaking of Athos and Aramis.
+
+The camp had entered Saint Omer; the friends made a little detour and went to the camp, and gave the army an exact account of the flight of the king and queen. They found Raoul near his tent, reclining on a truss of hay, of which his horse stole some mouthfuls; the young man’s eyes were red and he seemed dejected. The Marechal de Grammont and the Comte de Guiche had returned to Paris and he was quite lonely. And as soon as he saw the two cavaliers he ran to them with open arms.
+
+“Oh, is it you, dear friends? Did you come here to fetch me? Will you take me away with you? Do you bring me tidings of my guardian?”
+
+“Have you not received any?” said D’Artagnan to the youth.
+
+“Alas! sir, no, and I do not know what has become of him; so that I am really so unhappy that I weep.”
+
+In fact, tears rolled down his cheeks.
+
+Porthos turned aside, in order not to show by his honest round face what was passing in his mind.
+
+“Deuce take it!” cried D’Artagnan, more moved than he had been for a long time, “don’t despair, my friend, if you have not received any letters from the count, we have received one.”
+
+“Oh, really!” cried Raoul.
+
+“And a comforting one, too,” added D’Artagnan, seeing the delight that his intelligence gave the young man.
+
+“Have you it?” asked Raoul
+
+“Yes — that is, I had it,” repined the Gascon, making believe to find it. “Wait, it ought to be there in my pocket; it speaks of his return, does it not, Porthos?”
+
+All Gascon as he was, D’Artagnan could not bear alone the weight of that falsehood.
+
+“Yes,” replied Porthos, coughing.
+
+“Eh, give it to me!” said the young man.
+
+“Eh! I read it a little while since. Can I have lost it? Ah! confound it! yes, my pocket has a hole in it.”
+
+“Oh, yes, Monsieur Raoul!” said Mousqueton, “the letter was very consoling. These gentlemen read it to me and I wept for joy.”
+
+“But at any rate, you know where he is, Monsieur d’Artagnan?” asked Raoul, somewhat comforted.
+
+“Ah! that’s the thing!” replied the Gascon. “Undoubtedly I know it, but it is a mystery.”
+
+“Not to me, I hope?”
+
+“No, not to you, so I am going to tell you where he is.”
+
+Porthos devoured D’Artagnan with wondering eyes.
+
+“Where the devil shall I say that he is, so that he cannot try to rejoin him?” thought D’Artagnan.
+
+“Well, where is he, sir?” asked Raoul, in a soft and coaxing voice.
+
+“He is at Constantinople.”
+
+“Among the Turks!” exclaimed Raoul, alarmed. “Good heavens! how can you tell me that?”
+
+“Does that alarm you?” cried D’Artagnan. “Pooh! what are the Turks to such men as the Comte de la Fere and the Abbé d’Herblay?”
+
+“Ah, his friend is with him?” said Raoul. “That comforts me a little.”
+
+“Has he wit or not — this demon D’Artagnan?” said Porthos, astonished at his friend’s deception.
+
+“Now, sir,” said D’Artagnan, wishing to change the conversation, “here are fifty pistoles that the count has sent you by the same courier. I suppose you have no more money and that they will be welcome.”
+
+“I have still twenty pistoles, sir.”
+
+“Well, take them; that makes seventy.”
+
+“And if you wish for more,” said Porthos, putting his hand to his pocket — — 
+
+“Thank you, sir,” replied Raoul, blushing; “thank you a thousand times.”
+
+At this moment Olivain appeared. “Apropos,” said D’Artagnan, loud enough for the servant to hear him, “are you satisfied with Olivain?”
+
+“Yes, in some respects, tolerably well.”
+
+Olivain pretended to have heard nothing and entered the tent.
+
+“What fault do you find with the fellow?”
+
+“He is a glutton.”
+
+“Oh, sir!” cried Olivain, reappearing at this accusation.
+
+“And a little bit of a thief.”
+
+“Oh, sir! oh!”
+
+“And, more especially, a notorious coward.”
+
+“Oh, oh! sir! you really vilify me!” cried Olivain.
+
+“The deuce!” cried D’Artagnan. “Pray learn, Monsieur Olivain, that people like us are not to be served by cowards. Rob your master, eat his sweetmeats, and drink his wine; but, by Jove! don’t be a coward, or I shall cut off your ears. Look at Monsieur Mouston, see the honorable wounds he has received, observe how his habitual valor has given dignity to his countenance.”
+
+Mousqueton was in the third heaven and would have embraced D’Artagnan had he dared; meanwhile he resolved to sacrifice his life for him on the next occasion that presented itself.
+
+“Send away that fellow, Raoul,” said the Gascon; “for if he’s a coward he will disgrace thee some day.”
+
+“Monsieur says I am coward,” cried Olivain, “because he wanted the other day to fight a cornet in Grammont’s regiment and I refused to accompany him.”
+
+“Monsieur Olivain, a lackey ought never to disobey,” said D’Artagnan, sternly; then taking him aside, he whispered to him: “Thou hast done right; thy master was in the wrong; here’s a crown for thee, but should he ever be insulted and thou dost not let thyself be cut in quarters for him, I will cut out thy tongue. Remember that.”
+
+Olivain bowed and slipped the crown into his pocket.
+
+“And now, Raoul,” said the Gascon, “Monsieur du Vallon and I are going away as ambassadors, where, I know not; but should you want anything, write to Madame Turquaine, at La Chevrette, Rue Tiquetonne and draw upon her purse as on a banker — with economy; for it is not so well filled as that of Monsieur d’Emery.”
+
+And having, meantime, embraced his ward, he passed him into the robust arms of Porthos, who lifted him up from the ground and held him a moment suspended near the noble heart of the formidable giant.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan, “let us go.”
+
+And they set out for Boulogne, where toward evening they arrived, their horses flecked with foam and dark with perspiration.
+
+At ten steps from the place where they halted was a young man in black, who seemed waiting for some one, and who, from the moment he saw them enter the town, never took his eyes off them.
+
+D’Artagnan approached him, and seeing him stare so fixedly, said:
+
+“Well, friend! I don’t like people to quiz me!”
+
+“Sir,” said the young man, “do you not come from Paris, if you please?”
+
+D’Artagnan thought it was some gossip who wanted news from the capital.
+
+“Yes, sir,” he said, in a softened tone.
+
+“Are you not going to put up at the ‘Arms of England’?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Are you not charged with a mission from his eminence, Cardinal Mazarin?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“In that case, I am the man you have to do with. I am M. Mordaunt.”
+
+“Ah!” thought D’Artagnan, “the man I am warned against by Athos.”
+
+“Ah!” thought Porthos, “the man Aramis wants me to strangle.”
+
+They both looked searchingly at the young man, who misunderstood the meaning of that inquisition.
+
+“Do you doubt my word?” he said. “In that case I can give you proofs.”
+
+“No, sir,” said D’Artagnan; “and we place ourselves at your orders.”
+
+“Well, gentlemen,” resumed Mordaunt, “we must set out without delay, to-day is the last day granted me by the cardinal. My ship is ready, and had you not come I must have set off without you, for General Cromwell expects my return impatiently.”
+
+“So!” thought the lieutenant, “’tis to General Cromwell that our dispatches are addressed.”
+
+“Have you no letter for him?” asked the young man.
+
+“I have one, the seal of which I am not to break till I reach London; but since you tell me to whom it is addressed, ’tis useless to wait till then.”
+
+D’Artagnan tore open the envelope of the letter. It was directed to “Monsieur Oliver Cromwell, General of the Army of the English Nation.”
+
+“Ah!” said D’Artagnan; “a singular commission.”
+
+“Who is this Monsieur Oliver Cromwell?” inquired Porthos.
+
+“Formerly a brewer,” replied the Gascon.
+
+“Perhaps Mazarin wishes to make a speculation in beer, as we did in straw,” said Porthos.
+
+“Come, come, gentlemen,” said Mordaunt, impatiently, “let us depart.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Porthos “without supper? Cannot Monsieur Cromwell wait a little?”
+
+“Yes, but I?” said Mordaunt.
+
+“Well, you,” said Porthos, “what then?”
+
+“I cannot wait.”
+
+“Oh! as to you, that is not my concern, and I shall sup either with or without your permission.”
+
+The young man’s eyes kindled in secret, but he restrained himself.
+
+“Monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, “you must excuse famished travelers. Besides, our supper can’t delay you much. We will hasten on to the inn; you will meanwhile proceed on foot to the harbor. We will take a bite and shall be there as soon as you are.”
+
+“Just as you please, gentlemen, provided we set sail,” he said.
+
+“The name of your ship?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“The Standard.”
+
+“Very well; in half an hour we shall be on board.”
+
+And the friends, spurring on their horses, rode to the hotel, the “Arms of England.”
+
+“What do you say of that young man?” asked D’Artagnan, as they hurried along.
+
+“I say that he doesn’t suit me at all,” said Porthos, “and that I feel a strong itching to follow Aramis’s advice.”
+
+“By no means, my dear Porthos; that man is a messenger of General Cromwell; it would insure for us a poor reception, I imagine, should it be announced to him that we had twisted the neck of his confidant.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” said Porthos, “I have always noticed that Aramis gives good advice.”
+
+“Listen,” returned D’Artagnan, “when our embassy is finished — — ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“If it brings us back to France — — ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, we shall see.”
+
+At that moment the two friends reached the hotel, “Arms of England,” where they supped with hearty appetite and then at once proceeded to the port.
+
+There they found a brig ready to set sail, upon the deck of which they recognized Mordaunt walking up and down impatiently.
+
+“It is singular,” said D’Artagnan, whilst the boat was taking them to the Standard, “it is astonishing how that young man resembles some one I must have known, but who it was I cannot yet remember.”
+
+A few minutes later they were on board, but the embarkation of the horses was a longer matter than that of the men, and it was eight o’clock before they raised anchor.
+
+The young man stamped impatiently and ordered all sail to be spread.
+
+Porthos, completely used up by three nights without sleep and a journey of seventy leagues on horseback, retired to his cabin and went to sleep.
+
+D’Artagnan, overcoming his repugnance to Mordaunt, walked with him upon the deck and invented a hundred stories to make him talk.
+
+Mousqueton was seasick.
+
+Chapter LV. The Scotchman.
+
+And now our readers must leave the Standard to sail peaceably, not toward London, where D’Artagnan and Porthos believed they were going, but to Durham, whither Mordaunt had been ordered to repair by the letter he had received during his sojourn at Boulogne, and accompany us to the royalist camp, on this side of the Tyne, near Newcastle.
+
+There, placed between two rivers on the borders of Scotland, but still on English soil, the tents of a little army extended. It was midnight. Some Highlanders were listlessly keeping watch. The moon, which was partially obscured by heavy clouds, now and then lit up the muskets of the sentinels, or silvered the walls, the roofs, and the spires of the town that Charles I. had just surrendered to the parliamentary troops, whilst Oxford and Newark still held out for him in the hopes of coming to some arrangement.
+
+At one of the extremities of the camp, near an immense tent, in which the Scottish officers were holding a kind of council, presided over by Lord Leven, their commander, a man attired as a cavalier lay sleeping on the turf, his right hand extended over his sword.
+
+About fifty paces off, another man, also appareled as a cavalier, was talking to a Scotch sentinel, and, though a foreigner, he seemed to understand without much difficulty the answers given in the broad Perthshire dialect.
+
+As the town clock of Newcastle struck one the sleeper awoke, and with all the gestures of a man rousing himself out of deep sleep he looked attentively about him; perceiving that he was alone he rose and making a little circuit passed close to the cavalier who was speaking to the sentinel. The former had no doubt finished his questions, for a moment later he said good-night and carelessly followed the same path taken by the first cavalier.
+
+In the shadow of a tent the former was awaiting him.
+
+“Well, my dear friend?” said he, in as pure French as has ever been uttered between Rouen and Tours.
+
+“Well, my friend, there is not a moment to lose; we must let the king know immediately.”
+
+“Why, what is the matter?”
+
+“It would take too long to tell you, besides, you will hear it all directly and the least word dropped here might ruin all. We must go and find Lord Winter.”
+
+They both set off to the other end of the camp, but as it did not cover more than a surface of five hundred feet they quickly arrived at the tent they were looking for.
+
+“Tony, is your master sleeping?” said one of the two cavaliers to a servant who was lying in the outer compartment, which served as a kind of ante-room.
+
+“No, monsieur le comte,” answered the servant, “I think not; or at least he has not long been so, for he was pacing up and down for more than two hours after he left the king, and the sound of his footsteps has only ceased during the last ten minutes. However, you may look and see,” added the lackey, raising the curtained entrance of the tent.
+
+Lord Winter was seated near an aperture, arranged as a window to let in the night air, his eyes mechanically following the course of the moon, intermittently veiled, as we before observed, by heavy clouds. The two friends approached Winter, who, with his head on his hands, was gazing at the heavens; he did not hear them enter and remained in the same attitude till he felt a hand upon his shoulder.
+
+He turned around, recognized Athos and Aramis and held out his hand to them.
+
+“Have you observed,” said he to them, “what a blood-red color the moon has to-night?”
+
+“No,” replied Athos; “I thought it looked much the same as usual.”
+
+“Look, again, chevalier,” returned Lord Winter.
+
+“I must own,” said Aramis, “I am like the Comte de la Fere — I can see nothing remarkable about it.”
+
+“My lord,” said Athos, “in a position so precarious as ours we must examine the earth and not the heavens. Have you studied our Scotch troops and have you confidence in them?”
+
+“The Scotch?” inquired Winter. “What Scotch?”
+
+“Ours, egad!” exclaimed Athos. “Those in whom the king has confided — Lord Leven’s Highlanders.”
+
+“No,” said Winter, then he paused; “but tell me, can you not perceive the russet tint which marks the heavens?”
+
+“Not the least in the world,” said Aramis and Athos at once.
+
+“Tell me,” continued Winter, always possessed by the same idea, “is there not a tradition in France that Henry IV., the evening before the day he was assassinated, when he was playing at chess with M. de Bassompiere, saw clots of blood upon the chessboard?”
+
+“Yes,” said Athos, “and the marechal has often told me so himself.”
+
+“Then it was so,” murmured Winter, “and the next day Henry IV. was killed.”
+
+“But what has this vision of Henry IV. to do with you, my lord?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“Nothing; and indeed I am mad to trouble you with such things, when your coming to my tent at such an hour announces that you are the bearers of important news.”
+
+“Yes, my lord,” said Athos, “I wish to speak to the king.”
+
+“To the king! but the king is asleep.”
+
+“I have something important to reveal to him.”
+
+“Can it not be put off till to-morrow?”
+
+“He must know it this moment, and perhaps it is already too late.”
+
+“Come, then,” said Lord Winter.
+
+Lord Winter’s tent was pitched by the side of the royal marquee, a kind of corridor communicating between the two. This corridor was guarded, not by a sentinel, but by a confidential servant, through whom, in case of urgency, Charles could communicate instantly with his faithful subject.
+
+“These gentlemen are with me,” said Winter.
+
+The lackey bowed and let them pass. As he had said, on a camp bed, dressed in his black doublet, booted, unbelted, with his felt hat beside him, lay the king, overcome by sleep and fatigue. They advanced, and Athos, who was the first to enter, gazed a moment in silence on that pale and noble face, framed in its long and now untidy, matted hair, the blue veins showing through the transparent temples, his eyes seemingly swollen by tears.
+
+Athos sighed deeply; the sigh woke the king, so lightly did he sleep.
+
+He opened his eyes.
+
+“Ah!” said he, raising himself on his elbow, “is it you, Comte de la Fere?”
+
+“Yes, sire,” replied Athos.
+
+“You watch while I sleep and you have come to bring me some news?”
+
+“Alas, sire,” answered Athos, “your majesty has guessed aright.”
+
+“It is bad news?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“Never mind; the messenger is welcome. You never come to me without conferring pleasure. You whose devotion recognizes neither country nor misfortune, you who are sent to me by Henrietta; whatever news you bring, speak out.”
+
+“Sire, Cromwell has arrived this night at Newcastle.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the king, “to fight?”
+
+“No, sire, but to buy your majesty.”
+
+“What did you say?”
+
+“I said, sire, that four hundred thousand pounds are owing to the Scottish army.”
+
+“For unpaid wages; yes, I know it. For the last year my faithful Highlanders have fought for honor alone.”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“Well, sir, though honor is a fine thing, they are tired of fighting for it, and to-night they have sold you for two hundred thousand pounds — that is to say, for half what is owing them.”
+
+“Impossible!” cried the king, “the Scotch sell their king for two hundred thousand pounds! And who is the Judas who has concluded this infamous bargain?”
+
+“Lord Leven.”
+
+“Are you certain of it, sir?”
+
+“I heard it with my own ears.”
+
+The king sighed deeply, as if his heart would break, and then buried his face in his hands.
+
+“Oh! the Scotch,” he exclaimed, “the Scotch I called ‘my faithful,’ to whom I trusted myself when I could have fled to Oxford! the Scotch, my brothers! But are you well assured, sir?”
+
+“Lying behind the tent of Lord Leven, I raised it and saw all, heard all!”
+
+“And when is this to be consummated?”
+
+“To-day — this morning; so your majesty must perceive there is no time to lose!”
+
+“To do what? since you say I am sold.”
+
+“To cross the Tyne, reach Scotland and rejoin Lord Montrose, who will not sell you.”
+
+“And what shall I do in Scotland? A war of partisans, unworthy of a king.”
+
+“The example of Robert Bruce will absolve you, sire.”
+
+“No, no! I have fought too long; they have sold me, they shall give me up, and the eternal shame of treble treason shall fall on their heads.”
+
+“Sire,” said Athos, “perhaps a king should act thus, but not a husband and a father. I have come in the name of your wife and daughter and of the children you have still in London, and I say to you, ‘Live, sire,’ — it is the will of Heaven.”
+
+The king raised himself, buckled on his belt, and passing his handkerchief over his moist forehead, said:
+
+“Well, what is to be done?”
+
+“Sire, have you in the army one regiment on which you can implicitly rely?”
+
+“Winter,” said the king, “do you believe in the fidelity of yours?”
+
+“Sire, they are but men, and men are become both weak and wicked. I will not answer for them. I would confide my life to them, but I should hesitate ere I trusted them with your majesty’s.”
+
+“Well!” said Athos, “since you have not a regiment, we are three devoted men. It is enough. Let your majesty mount on horseback and place yourself in the midst of us; we will cross the Tyne, reach Scotland, and you will be saved.”
+
+“Is this your counsel also, Winter?” inquired the king.
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“And yours, Monsieur d’Herblay?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“As you wish, then. Winter, give the necessary orders.”
+
+Winter then left the tent; in the meantime the king finished his toilet. The first rays of daybreak penetrated the aperture of the tent as Winter re-entered it.
+
+“All is ready, sire,” said he.
+
+“For us, also?” inquired Athos.
+
+“Grimaud and Blaisois are holding your horses, ready saddled.”
+
+“In that case,” exclaimed Athos, “let us not lose an instant, but set off.”
+
+“Come,” added the king.
+
+“Sire,” said Aramis, “will not your majesty acquaint some of your friends of this?”
+
+“Friends!” answered Charles, sadly, “I have but three — one of twenty years, who has never forgotten me, and two of a week’s standing, whom I shall never forget. Come, gentlemen, come!”
+
+The king quitted his tent and found his horse ready waiting for him. It was a chestnut that the king had ridden for three years and of which he was very fond.
+
+The horse neighed with pleasure at seeing him.
+
+“Ah!” said the king, “I was unjust; here is a creature that loves me. You at least will be faithful to me, Arthur.”
+
+The horse, as if it understood these words, bent its red nostrils toward the king’s face, and parting his lips displayed all its teeth, as if with pleasure.
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the king, caressing it with his hand, “yes, my Arthur, thou art a fond and faithful creature.”
+
+After this little scene Charles threw himself into the saddle, and turning to Athos, Aramis and Winter, said:
+
+“Now, gentlemen, I am at your service.”
+
+But Athos was standing with his eyes fixed on a black line which bordered the banks of the Tyne and seemed to extend double the length of the camp.
+
+“What is that line?” cried Athos, whose vision was still rather obscured by the uncertain shades and demi-tints of daybreak. “What is that line? I did not observe it yesterday.”
+
+“It must be the fog rising from the river,” said the king.
+
+“Sire, it is something more opaque than the fog.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Winter, “it appears to me like a bar of red color.”
+
+“It is the enemy, who have made a sortie from Newcastle and are surrounding us!” exclaimed Athos.
+
+“The enemy!” cried the king.
+
+“Yes, the enemy. It is too late. Stop a moment; does not that sunbeam yonder, just by the side of the town, glitter on the Ironsides?”
+
+This was the name given the cuirassiers, whom Cromwell had made his body-guard.
+
+“Ah!” said the king, “we shall soon see whether my Highlanders have betrayed me or not.”
+
+“What are you going to do?” exclaimed Athos.
+
+“To give them the order to charge, and run down these miserable rebels.”
+
+And the king, putting spurs to his horse, set off to the tent of Lord Leven.
+
+“Follow him,” said Athos.
+
+“Come!” exclaimed Aramis.
+
+“Is the king wounded?” cried Lord Winter. “I see spots of blood on the ground.” And he set off to follow the two friends.
+
+He was stopped by Athos.
+
+“Go and call out your regiment,” said he; “I can foresee that we shall have need of it directly.”
+
+Winter turned his horse and the two friends rode on. It had taken but two minutes for the king to reach the tent of the Scottish commander; he dismounted and entered.
+
+The general was there, surrounded by the more prominent chiefs.
+
+“The king!” they exclaimed, as all rose in bewilderment.
+
+Charles was indeed in the midst of them, his hat on his head, his brows bent, striking his boot with his riding whip.
+
+“Yes, gentlemen, the king in person, the king who has come to ask for some account of what has happened.”
+
+“What is the matter, sire?” exclaimed Lord Leven.
+
+“It is this, sir,” said the king, angrily, “that General Cromwell has reached Newcastle; that you knew it and I was not informed of it; that the enemy have left the town and are now closing the passages of the Tyne against us; that our sentinels have seen this movement and I have been left unacquainted with it; that, by an infamous treaty you have sold me for two hundred thousand pounds to Parliament. Of this treaty, at least, I have been warned. This is the matter, gentlemen; answer and exculpate yourselves, for I stand here to accuse you.”
+
+“Sire,” said Lord Leven, with hesitation, “sire, your majesty has been deceived by false reports.”
+
+“My own eyes have seen the enemy extend itself between myself and Scotland; and I can almost say that with my own ears I have heard the clauses of the treaty debated.”
+
+The Scotch chieftains looked at each other in their turn with frowning brows.
+
+“Sire,” murmured Lord Leven, crushed by shame, “sire, we are ready to give you every proof of our fidelity.”
+
+“I ask but one,” said the king; “put the army in battle array and face the enemy.”
+
+“That cannot be, sire,” said the earl.
+
+“How, cannot be? What hinders it?” exclaimed the king.
+
+“Your majesty is well aware that there is a truce between us and the English army.”
+
+“And if there is a truce the English army has broken it by quitting the town, contrary to the agreement which kept it there. Now, I tell you, you must pass with me through this army across to Scotland, and if you refuse you may choose betwixt two names, which the contempt of all honest men will brand you with — you are either cowards or traitors!”
+
+The eyes of the Scotch flashed fire; and, as often happens on such occasions, from shame they passed to effrontery and two heads of clans advanced upon the king.
+
+“Yes,” said they, “we have promised to deliver Scotland and England from him who for the last five-and-twenty years has sucked the blood and gold of Scotland and England. We have promised and we will keep our promise. Charles Stuart, you are our prisoner.”
+
+And both extended their hands as if to seize the king, but before they could touch him with the tips of their fingers, both had fallen, one dead, the other stunned.
+
+Aramis had passed his sword through the body of the first and Athos had knocked down the other with the butt end of his pistol.
+
+Then, as Lord Leven and the other chieftains recoiled before this unexpected rescue, which seemed to come from Heaven for the prince they already thought was their prisoner, Athos and Aramis dragged the king from the perjured assembly into which he had so imprudently ventured, and throwing themselves on horseback all three returned at full gallop to the royal tent.
+
+On their road they perceived Lord Winter marching at the head of his regiment. The king motioned him to accompany them.
+
+Chapter LVI. The Avenger.
+
+They all four entered the tent; they had no plan ready — they must think of one.
+
+The king threw himself into an arm-chair. “I am lost,” said he.
+
+“No, sire,” replied Athos. “You are only betrayed.”
+
+The king sighed deeply.
+
+“Betrayed! yes betrayed by the Scotch, amongst whom I was born, whom I have always loved better than the English. Oh, traitors that ye are!”
+
+“Sire,” said Athos, “this is not a moment for recrimination, but a time to show yourself a king and a gentleman. Up, sire! up! for you have here at least three men who will not betray you. Ah! if we had been five!” murmured Athos, thinking of D’Artagnan and Porthos.
+
+“What do you say?” inquired Charles, rising.
+
+“I say, sire, that there is now but one way open. Lord Winter answers for his regiment, or at least very nearly so — we will not split straws about words — let him place himself at the head of his men, we will place ourselves at the side of your majesty, and we will mow a swath through Cromwell’s army and reach Scotland.”
+
+“There is another method,” said Aramis. “Let one of us put on the dress and mount the king’s horse. Whilst they pursue him the king might escape.”
+
+“It is good advice,” said Athos, “and if the king will do one of us the honor we shall be truly grateful to him.”
+
+“What do you think of this counsel, Winter?” asked the king, looking with admiration at these two men, whose chief idea seemed to be how they could take on their shoulders all the dangers that assailed him.
+
+“I think the only chance of saving your majesty has just been proposed by Monsieur d’Herblay. I humbly entreat your majesty to choose quickly, for we have not an instant to lose.”
+
+“But if I accept, it is death, or at least imprisonment, for him who takes my place.”
+
+“He will have had the glory of having saved his king,” cried Winter.
+
+The king looked at his old friend with tears in his eyes; undid the Order of the Saint Esprit which he wore, to honor the two Frenchmen who were with him, and passed it around Winter’s neck, who received on his knees this striking proof of his sovereign’s confidence and friendship.
+
+“It is right,” said Athos; “he has served your majesty longer than we have.”
+
+The king overheard these words and turned around with tears in his eyes.
+
+“Wait a moment, sir,” said he; “I have an order for each of you also.”
+
+He turned to a closet where his own orders were locked up, and took out two ribbons of the Order of the Garter.
+
+“These cannot be for us,” said Athos.
+
+“Why not, sir?” asked Charles.
+
+“Such are for royalty, and we are simple commoners.”
+
+“Speak not of crowns. I shall not find amongst them such great hearts as yours. No, no, you do yourselves injustice; but I am here to do you justice. On your knees, count.”
+
+Athos knelt down and the king passed the ribbon down from left to right as usual, raised his sword, and instead of pronouncing the customary formula, “I make you a knight. Be brave, faithful and loyal,” he said, “You are brave, faithful and loyal. I knight you, monsieur le comte.”
+
+Then turning to Aramis, he said:
+
+“It is now your turn, monsieur le chevalier.”
+
+The same ceremony recommenced, with the same words, whilst Winter unlaced his leather cuirass, that he might disguise himself like the king. Charles, having proceeded with Aramis as with Athos, embraced them both.
+
+“Sire,” said Winter, who in this trying emergency felt all his strength and energy fire up, “we are ready.”
+
+The king looked at the three gentlemen. “Then we must fly!” said he.
+
+“Flying through an army, sire,” said Athos, “in all countries in the world is called charging.”
+
+“Then I shall die, sword in hand,” said Charles. “Monsieur le comte, monsieur le chevalier, if ever I am king — — ”
+
+“Sire, you have already done us more honor than simple gentlemen could ever aspire to, therefore gratitude is on our side. But we must not lose time. We have already wasted too much.”
+
+The king again shook hands with all three, exchanged hats with Winter and went out.
+
+Winter’s regiment was ranged on some high ground above the camp. The king, followed by the three friends, turned his steps that way. The Scotch camp seemed as if at last awakened; the soldiers had come out of their tents and taken up their station in battle array.
+
+“Do you see that?” said the king. “Perhaps they are penitent and preparing to march.”
+
+“If they are penitent,” said Athos, “let them follow us.”
+
+“Well!” said the king, “what shall we do?”
+
+“Let us examine the enemy’s army.”
+
+At the same instant the eyes of the little group were fixed on the same line which at daybreak they had mistaken for fog and which the morning sun now plainly showed was an army in order of battle. The air was soft and clear, as it generally is at that early hour of the morning. The regiments, the standards, and even the colors of the horses and uniforms were now clearly distinct.
+
+On the summit of a rising ground, a little in advance of the enemy, appeared a short and heavy looking man; this man was surrounded by officers. He turned a spyglass toward the little group amongst which the king stood.
+
+“Does this man know your majesty personally?” inquired Aramis.
+
+Charles smiled.
+
+“That man is Cromwell,” said he.
+
+“Then draw down your hat, sire, that he may not discover the substitution.”
+
+“Ah!” said Athos, “how much time we have lost.”
+
+“Now,” said the king, “give the word and let us start.”
+
+“Will you not give it, sire?” asked Athos.
+
+“No; I make you my lieutenant-general,” said the king.
+
+“Listen, then, Lord Winter. Proceed, sire, I beg. What we are going to say does not concern your majesty.”
+
+The king, smiling, turned a few steps back.
+
+“This is what I propose to do,” said Athos. “We will divide our regiments into two squadrons. You will put yourself at the head of the first. We and his majesty will lead the second. If no obstacle occurs we will both charge together, force the enemy’s line and throw ourselves into the Tyne, which we must cross, either by fording or swimming; if, on the contrary, any repulse should take place, you and your men must fight to the last man, whilst we and the king proceed on our road. Once arrived at the brink of the river, should we even find them three ranks deep, as long as you and your regiment do your duty, we will look to the rest.”
+
+“To horse!” said Lord Winter.
+
+“To horse!” re-echoed Athos; “everything is arranged and decided.”
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” cried the king, “forward! and rally to the old cry of France, ‘Montjoy and St. Denis!’ The war cry of England is too often in the mouths of traitors.”
+
+They mounted — the king on Winter’s horse and Winter on that of the king; then Winter took his place at the head of the first squadron, and the king, with Athos on his right and Aramis on his left, at the head of the second.
+
+The Scotch army stood motionless and silent, seized with shame at sight of these preparations.
+
+Some of the chieftains left the ranks and broke their swords in two.
+
+“There,” said the king, “that consoles me; they are not all traitors.”
+
+At this moment Winter’s voice was raised with the cry of “Forward!”
+
+The first squadron moved off; the second followed, and descended from the plateau. A regiment of cuirassiers, nearly equal as to numbers, issued from behind the hill and came full gallop toward it.
+
+The king pointed this out.
+
+“Sire,” said Athos, “we foresaw this; and if Lord Winter’s men but do their duty, we are saved, instead of lost.”
+
+At this moment they heard above all the galloping and neighing of the horses Winter’s voice crying out:
+
+“Sword in hand!”
+
+At these words every sword was drawn, and glittered in the air like lightning.
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” said the king in his turn, excited by this sight, “come, gentlemen, sword in hand!”
+
+But Aramis and Athos were the only ones to obey this command and the king’s example.
+
+“We are betrayed,” said the king in a low voice.
+
+“Wait a moment,” said Athos, “perhaps they do not recognize your majesty’s voice, and await the order of their captain.”
+
+“Have they not heard that of their colonel? But look! look!” cried the king, drawing up his horse with a sudden jerk, which threw it on its haunches, and seizing the bridle of Athos’s horse.
+
+“Ah, cowards! traitors!” screamed Lord Winter, whose voice they heard, whilst his men, quitting their ranks, dispersed all over the plain.
+
+About fifteen men were ranged around him and awaited the charge of Cromwell’s cuirassiers.
+
+“Let us go and die with them!” said the king.
+
+“Let us go,” said Athos and Aramis.
+
+“All faithful hearts with me!” cried out Winter.
+
+This voice was heard by the two friends, who set off, full gallop.
+
+“No quarter!” cried a voice in French, answering to that of Winter, which made them tremble.
+
+As for Winter, at the sound of that voice he turned pale, and was, as it were, petrified.
+
+It was the voice of a cavalier mounted on a magnificent black horse, who was charging at the head of the English regiment, of which, in his ardor, he was ten steps in advance.
+
+“’Tis he!” murmured Winter, his eyes glazed and he allowed his sword to fall to his side.
+
+“The king! the king!” cried out several voices, deceived by the blue ribbon and chestnut horse of Winter; “take him alive.”
+
+“No! it is not the king!” exclaimed the cavalier. “Lord Winter, you are not the king; you are my uncle.”
+
+At the same moment Mordaunt, for it was he, leveled his pistol at Winter; it went off and the ball entered the heart of the old cavalier, who with one bound on his saddle fell back into the arms of Athos, murmuring: “He is avenged!”
+
+“Think of my mother!” shouted Mordaunt, as his horse plunged and darted off at full gallop.
+
+“Wretch!” exclaimed Aramis, raising his pistol as he passed by him; but the powder flashed in the pan and it did not go off.
+
+At this moment the whole regiment came up and they fell upon the few men who had held out, surrounding the two Frenchmen. Athos, after making sure that Lord Winter was really dead, let fall the corpse and said:
+
+“Come, Aramis, now for the honor of France!” and the two Englishmen who were nearest to them fell, mortally wounded.
+
+At the same moment a fearful “hurrah!” rent the air and thirty blades glittered about their heads.
+
+Suddenly a man sprang out of the English ranks, fell upon Athos, twined arms of steel around him, and tearing his sword from him, said in his ear:
+
+“Silence! yield — you yield to me, do you not?”
+
+A giant had seized also Aramis’s two wrists, who struggled in vain to release himself from this formidable grasp.
+
+“D’Art — — ” exclaimed Athos, whilst the Gascon covered his mouth with his hand.
+
+“I am your prisoner,” said Aramis, giving up his sword to Porthos.
+
+“Fire, fire!” cried Mordaunt, returning to the group surrounding the two friends.
+
+“And wherefore fire?” said the colonel; “every one has yielded.”
+
+“It is the son of Milady,” said Athos to D’Artagnan.
+
+“I recognize him.”
+
+“It is the monk,” whispered Porthos to Aramis.
+
+“I know it.”
+
+And now the ranks began to open. D’Artagnan held the bridle of Athos’s horse and Porthos that of Aramis. Both of them attempted to lead his prisoner off the battle-field.
+
+This movement revealed the spot where Winter’s body had fallen. Mordaunt had found it out and was gazing on his dead relative with an expression of malignant hatred.
+
+Athos, though now cool and collected, put his hand to his belt, where his loaded pistols yet remained.
+
+“What are you about?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Let me kill him.”
+
+“We are all four lost, if by the least gesture you discover that you recognize him.”
+
+Then turning to the young man he exclaimed:
+
+“A fine prize! a fine prize, friend Mordaunt; we have both myself and Monsieur du Vallon, taken two Knights of the Garter, nothing less.”
+
+“But,” said Mordaunt, looking at Athos and Aramis with bloodshot eyes, “these are Frenchmen, I imagine.”
+
+“I’faith, I don’t know. Are you French, sir?” said he to Athos.
+
+“I am,” replied the latter, gravely.
+
+“Very well, my dear sir, you are the prisoner of a fellow countryman.”
+
+“But the king — where is the king?” exclaimed Athos, anxiously.
+
+D’Artagnan vigorously seized his prisoner’s hand, saying:
+
+“Eh! the king? We have secured him.”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “through an infamous act of treason.”
+
+Porthos pressed his friend’s hand and said to him:
+
+“Yes, sir, all is fair in war, stratagem as well as force; look yonder!”
+
+At this instant the squadron, that ought to have protected Charles’s retreat, was advancing to meet the English regiments. The king, who was entirely surrounded, walked alone in a great empty space. He appeared calm, but it was evidently not without a mighty effort. Drops of perspiration trickled down his face, and from time to time he put a handkerchief to his mouth to wipe away the blood that rilled from it.
+
+“Behold Nebuchadnezzar!” exclaimed an old Puritan soldier, whose eyes flashed at the sight of the man they called the tyrant.
+
+“Do you call him Nebuchadnezzar?” said Mordaunt, with a terrible smile; “no, it is Charles the First, the king, the good King Charles, who despoils his subjects to enrich himself.”
+
+Charles glanced a moment at the insolent creature who uttered this, but did not recognize him. Nevertheless, the calm religious dignity of his countenance abashed Mordaunt.
+
+“Bon jour, messieurs!” said the king to the two gentlemen who were held by D’Artagnan and Porthos. “The day has been unfortunate, but it is not your fault, thank God! But where is my old friend Winter?”
+
+The two gentlemen turned away their heads in silence.
+
+“In Strafford’s company,” said Mordaunt, tauntingly.
+
+Charles shuddered. The demon had known how to wound him. The remembrance of Strafford was a source of lasting remorse to him, the shadow that haunted him by day and night. The king looked around him. He saw a corpse at his feet. It was Winter’s. He uttered not a word, nor shed a tear, but a deadly pallor spread over his face; he knelt down on the ground, raised Winter’s head, and unfastening the Order of the Saint Esprit, placed it on his own breast.
+
+“Lord Winter is killed, then?” inquired D’Artagnan, fixing his eyes on the corpse.
+
+“Yes,” said Athos, “by his own nephew.”
+
+“Come, he was the first of us to go; peace be to him! he was an honest man,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Charles Stuart,” said the colonel of the English regiment, approaching the king, who had just put on the insignia of royalty, “do you yield yourself a prisoner?”
+
+“Colonel Tomlison,” said Charles, “kings cannot yield; the man alone submits to force.”
+
+“Your sword.”
+
+The king drew his sword and broke it on his knee.
+
+At this moment a horse without a rider, covered with foam, his nostrils extended and eyes all fire, galloped up, and recognizing his master, stopped and neighed with pleasure; it was Arthur.
+
+The king smiled, patted it with his hand and jumped lightly into the saddle.
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “conduct me where you will.”
+
+Turning back again, he said, “I thought I saw Winter move; if he still lives, by all you hold most sacred, do not abandon him.”
+
+“Never fear, King Charles,” said Mordaunt, “the bullet pierced his heart.”
+
+“Do not breathe a word nor make the least sign to me or Porthos,” said D’Artagnan to Athos and Aramis, “that you recognize this man, for Milady is not dead; her soul lives in the body of this demon.”
+
+The detachment now moved toward the town with the royal captive; but on the road an aide-de-camp, from Cromwell, sent orders that Colonel Tomlison should conduct him to Holdenby Castle.
+
+At the same time couriers started in every direction over England and Europe to announce that Charles Stuart was the prisoner of Oliver Cromwell.
+
+Chapter LVII. Oliver Cromwell.
+
+Have you been to the general?” said Mordaunt to D’Artagnan and Porthos; “you know he sent for you after the action.”
+
+“We want first to put our prisoners in a place of safety,” replied D’Artagnan. “Do you know, sir, these gentlemen are each of them worth fifteen hundred pounds?”
+
+“Oh, be assured,” said Mordaunt, looking at them with an expression he vainly endeavoured to soften, “my soldiers will guard them, and guard them well, I promise you.”
+
+“I shall take better care of them myself,” answered D’Artagnan; “besides, all they require is a good room, with sentinels, or their simple parole that they will not attempt escape. I will go and see about that, and then we shall have the honor of presenting ourselves to the general and receiving his commands for his eminence.”
+
+“You think of starting at once, then?” inquired Mordaunt.
+
+“Our mission is ended, and there is nothing more to detain us now but the good pleasure of the great man to whom we were sent.”
+
+The young man bit his lips and whispered to his sergeant:
+
+“You will follow these men and not lose sight of them; when you have discovered where they lodge, come and await me at the town gate.”
+
+The sergeant made a sign of comprehension.
+
+Instead of following the knot of prisoners that were being taken into the town, Mordaunt turned his steps toward the rising ground from whence Cromwell had witnessed the battle and on which he had just had his tent pitched.
+
+Cromwell had given orders that no one was to be allowed admission; but the sentinel, who knew that Mordaunt was one of the most confidential friends of the general, thought the order did not extend to the young man. Mordaunt, therefore, raised the canvas, and saw Cromwell seated before a table, his head buried in his hands, his back being turned.
+
+Whether he heard Mordaunt or not as he entered, Cromwell did not move. Mordaunt remained standing near the door. At last, after a few moments, Cromwell raised his head, and, as if he divined that some one was there, turned slowly around.
+
+“I said I wished to be alone,” he exclaimed, on seeing the young man.
+
+“They thought this order did not concern me, sir; nevertheless, if you wish it, I am ready to go.”
+
+“Ah! is it you, Mordaunt?” said Cromwell, the cloud passing away from his face; “since you are here, it is well; you may remain.”
+
+“I come to congratulate you.”
+
+“To congratulate me — what for?”
+
+“On the capture of Charles Stuart. You are now master of England.”
+
+“I was much more really so two hours ago.”
+
+“How so, general?”
+
+“Because England had need of me to take the tyrant, and now the tyrant is taken. Have you seen him?”
+
+“Yes, sir.” said Mordaunt.
+
+“What is his bearing?”
+
+Mordaunt hesitated; but it seemed as though he was constrained to tell the truth.
+
+“Calm and dignified,” said he.
+
+“What did he say?”
+
+“Some parting words to his friends.”
+
+“His friends!” murmured Cromwell. “Has he any friends?” Then he added aloud, “Did he make any resistance?”
+
+“No, sir, with the exception of two or three friends every one deserted him; he had no means of resistance.”
+
+“To whom did he give up his sword?”
+
+“He did not give it up; he broke it.”
+
+“He did well; but instead of breaking it, he might have used it to still more advantage.”
+
+There was a momentary pause.
+
+“I heard that the colonel of the regiment that escorted Charles was killed,” said Cromwell, staring very fixedly at Mordaunt.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“By whom?” inquired Cromwell.
+
+“By me.”
+
+“What was his name?”
+
+“Lord Winter.”
+
+“Your uncle?” exclaimed Cromwell.
+
+“My uncle,” answered Mordaunt; “but traitors to England are no longer members of my family.”
+
+Cromwell observed the young man a moment in silence, then, with that profound melancholy Shakespeare describes so well:
+
+“Mordaunt,” he said, “you are a terrible servant.”
+
+“When the Lord commands,” said Mordaunt, “His commands are not to be disputed. Abraham raised the knife against Isaac, and Isaac was his son.”
+
+“Yes,” said Cromwell, “but the Lord did not suffer that sacrifice to be accomplished.”
+
+“I have looked around me,” said Mordaunt, “and I have seen neither goat nor kid caught among the bushes of the plain.”
+
+Cromwell bowed. “You are strong among the strong, Mordaunt,” he said; “and the Frenchmen, how did they behave?”
+
+“Most fearlessly.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” murmured Cromwell; “the French fight well; and if my glass was good and I mistake not, they were foremost in the fight.”
+
+“They were,” replied Mordaunt.
+
+“After you, however,” said Cromwell.
+
+“It was the fault of their horses, not theirs.”
+
+Another pause.
+
+“And the Scotch?”
+
+“They kept their word and never stirred,” said Mordaunt.
+
+“Wretched men!”
+
+“Their officers wish to see you, sir.”
+
+“I have no time to see them. Are they paid?”
+
+“Yes, to-night.”
+
+“Let them be off and return to their own country, there to hide their shame, if its hills are high enough; I have nothing more to do with them nor they with me. And now go, Mordaunt.”
+
+“Before I go,” said Mordaunt, “I have some questions and a favor to ask you, sir.”
+
+“A favor from me?”
+
+Mordaunt bowed.
+
+“I come to you, my leader, my head, my father, and I ask you, master, are you contented with me?”
+
+Cromwell looked at him with astonishment. The young man remained immovable.
+
+“Yes,” said Cromwell; “you have done, since I knew you, not only your duty, but more than your duty; you have been a faithful friend, a cautious negotiator, a brave soldier.”
+
+“Do you remember, sir it was my idea, the Scotch treaty, for giving up the king?”
+
+“Yes, the idea was yours. I had no such contempt for men before.”
+
+“Was I not a good ambassador in France?”
+
+“Yes, for Mazarin has granted what I desire.”
+
+“Have I not always fought for your glory and interests?”
+
+“Too ardently, perhaps; it is what I have just reproached you for. But what is the meaning of all these questions?”
+
+“To tell you, my lord, that the moment has now arrived when, with a single word, you may recompense all these services.”
+
+“Oh!” said Oliver, with a slight curl of his lip, “I forgot that every service merits some reward and that up to this moment you have not been paid.”
+
+“Sir, I can take my pay at this moment, to the full extent of my wishes.”
+
+“How is that?”
+
+“I have the payment under my hand; I almost possess it.”
+
+“What is it? Have they offered you money? Do you wish a step, or some place in the government?”
+
+“Sir, will you grant me my request?”
+
+“Let us hear what it is, first.”
+
+“Sir, when you have told me to obey an order did I ever answer, ‘Let me see that order’?”
+
+“If, however, your wish should be one impossible to fulfill?”
+
+“When you have cherished a wish and have charged me with its fulfillment, have I ever replied, ‘It is impossible’?”
+
+“But a request preferred with so much preparation — — ”
+
+“Ah, do not fear, sir,” said Mordaunt, with apparent simplicity: “it will not ruin you.”
+
+“Well, then,” said Cromwell, “I promise, as far as lies in my power, to grant your request; proceed.”
+
+“Sir, two prisoners were taken this morning, will you let me have them?”
+
+“For their ransom? have they then offered a large one?” inquired Cromwell.
+
+“On the contrary, I think they are poor, sir.”
+
+“They are friends of yours, then?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” exclaimed Mordaunt, “they are friends, dear friends of mine, and I would lay down my life for them.”
+
+“Very well, Mordaunt,” exclaimed Cromwell, pleased at having his opinion of the young man raised once more; “I will give them to you; I will not even ask who they are; do as you like with them.”
+
+“Thank you, sir!” exclaimed Mordaunt, “thank you; my life is always at your service, and should I lose it I should still owe you something; thank you; you have indeed repaid me munificently for my services.”
+
+He threw himself at the feet of Cromwell, and in spite of the efforts of the Puritan general, who did not like this almost kingly homage, he took his hand and kissed it.
+
+“What!” said Cromwell, arresting him for a moment as he arose; “is there nothing more you wish? neither gold nor rank?”
+
+“You have given me all you can give me, and from to-day your debt is paid.”
+
+And Mordaunt darted out of the general’s tent, his heart beating and his eyes sparkling with joy.
+
+Cromwell gazed a moment after him.
+
+“He has slain his uncle!” he murmured. “Alas! what are my servants? Possibly this one, who asks nothing or seems to ask nothing, has asked more in the eyes of Heaven than those who tax the country and steal the bread of the poor. Nobody serves me for nothing. Charles, who is my prisoner, may still have friends, but I have none!”
+
+And with a deep sigh he again sank into the reverie that had been interrupted by Mordaunt.
+
+Chapter LVIII. Jesus Seigneur.
+
+Whilst Mordaunt was making his way to Cromwell’s tent, D’Artagnan and Porthos had brought their prisoners to the house which had been assigned to them as their dwelling at Newcastle.
+
+The order given by Mordaunt to the sergeant had been heard by D’Artagnan, who accordingly, by an expressive glance, warned Athos and Aramis to exercise extreme caution. The prisoners, therefore, had remained silent as they marched along in company with their conquerors — which they could do with the less difficulty since each of them had occupation enough in answering his own thoughts.
+
+It would be impossible to describe Mousqueton’s astonishment when from the threshold of the door he saw the four friends approaching, followed by a sergeant with a dozen men. He rubbed his eyes, doubting if he really saw before him Athos and Aramis; and forced at last to yield to evidence, he was on the point of breaking forth in exclamations when he encountered a glance from the eyes of Porthos, the repressive force of which he was not inclined to dispute.
+
+Mousqueton remained glued to the door, awaiting the explanation of this strange occurrence. What upset him completely was that the four friends seemed to have no acquaintance with one another.
+
+The house to which D’Artagnan and Porthos conducted Athos and Aramis was the one assigned to them by General Cromwell and of which they had taken possession on the previous evening. It was at the corner of two streets and had in the rear, bordering on the side street, stables and a sort of garden. The windows on the ground floor, according to a custom in provincial villages, were barred, so that they strongly resembled the windows of a prison.
+
+The two friends made the prisoners enter the house first, whilst they stood at the door, desiring Mousqueton to take the four horses to the stable.
+
+“Why don’t we go in with them?” asked Porthos.
+
+“We must first see what the sergeant wishes us to do,” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+The sergeant and his men took possession of the little garden.
+
+D’Artagnan asked them what they wished and why they had taken that position.
+
+“We have had orders,” answered the man, “to help you in taking care of your prisoners.”
+
+There could be no fault to find with this arrangement; on the contrary, it seemed to be a delicate attention, to be gratefully received; D’Artagnan, therefore, thanked the man and gave him a crown piece to drink to General Cromwell’s health.
+
+The sergeant answered that Puritans never drank, and put the crown piece in his pocket.
+
+“Ah!” said Porthos, “what a fearful day, my dear D’Artagnan!”
+
+“What! a fearful day, when to-day we find our friends?”
+
+“Yes; but under what circumstances?”
+
+“’Tis true that our position is an awkward one; but let us go in and see more clearly what is to be done.”
+
+“Things look black enough,” replied Porthos; “I understand now why Aramis advised me to strangle that horrible Mordaunt.”
+
+“Silence!” cried the Gascon; “do not utter that name.”
+
+“But,” argued Porthos, “I speak French and they are all English.”
+
+D’Artagnan looked at Porthos with that air of wonder which a cunning man cannot help feeling at displays of crass stupidity.
+
+But as Porthos on his side could not comprehend his astonishment, he merely pushed him indoors, saying, “Let us go in.”
+
+They found Athos in profound despondency; Aramis looked first at Porthos and then at D’Artagnan, without speaking, but the latter understood his meaningful look.
+
+“You want to know how we came here? ’Tis easily guessed. Mazarin sent us with a letter to General Cromwell.”
+
+“But how came you to fall into company with Mordaunt, whom I bade you distrust?” asked Athos.
+
+“And whom I advised you to strangle, Porthos,” said Aramis.
+
+“Mazarin again. Cromwell had sent him to Mazarin. Mazarin sent us to Cromwell. There is a certain fatality in it.”
+
+“Yes, you are right, D’Artagnan, a fatality that will separate and ruin us! So, my dear Aramis, say no more about it and let us prepare to submit to destiny.”
+
+“Zounds! on the contrary, let us speak about it; for it was agreed among us, once for all, that we should always hold together, though engaged on opposing sides.”
+
+“Yes,” added Athos, “I now ask you, D’Artagnan, what side you are on? Ah! behold for what end the wretched Mazarin has made use of you. Do you know in what crime you are to-day engaged? In the capture of a king, his degradation and his murder.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” cried Porthos, “do you think so?”
+
+“You are exaggerating, Athos; we are not so far gone as that,” replied the lieutenant.
+
+“Good heavens! we are on the very eve of it. I say, why is the king taken prisoner? Those who wish to respect him as a master would not buy him as a slave. Do you think it is to replace him on the throne that Cromwell has paid for him two hundred thousand pounds sterling? They will kill him, you may be sure of it.”
+
+“I don’t maintain the contrary,” said D’Artagnan. “But what’s that to us? I am here because I am a soldier and have to obey orders — I have taken an oath to obey, and I do obey; but you who have taken no such oath, why are you here and what cause do you represent?”
+
+“That most sacred in the world,” said Athos; “the cause of misfortune, of religion, royalty. A friend, a wife, a daughter, have done us the honor to call us to their aid. We have served them to the best of our poor means, and God will recompense the will, forgive the want of power. You may see matters differently, D’Artagnan, and think otherwise. I will not attempt to argue with you, but I blame you.”
+
+“Heyday!” cried D’Artagnan, “what matters it to me, after all, if Cromwell, who’s an Englishman, revolts against his king, who is a Scotchman? I am myself a Frenchman. I have nothing to do with these things — why hold me responsible?”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos.
+
+“Because all gentlemen are brothers, because you are a gentleman, because the kings of all countries are the first among gentlemen, because the blind populace, ungrateful and brutal, always takes pleasure in pulling down what is above them. And you, you, D’Artagnan, a man sprung from the ancient nobility of France, bearing an honorable name, carrying a good sword, have helped to give up a king to beersellers, shopkeepers, and wagoners. Ah! D’Artagnan! perhaps you have done your duty as a soldier, but as a gentleman, I say that you are very culpable.”
+
+D’Artagnan was chewing the stalk of a flower, unable to reply and thoroughly uncomfortable; for when turned from the eyes of Athos he encountered those of Aramis.
+
+“And you, Porthos,” continued the count, as if in consideration for D’Artagnan’s embarrassment, “you, the best heart, the best friend, the best soldier that I know — you, with a soul that makes you worthy of a birth on the steps of a throne, and who, sooner or later, must receive your reward from an intelligent king — you, my dear Porthos, you, a gentleman in manners, in tastes and in courage, you are as culpable as D’Artagnan.”
+
+Porthos blushed, but with pleasure rather than with confusion; and yet, bowing his head, as if humiliated, he said:
+
+“Yes, yes, my dear count, I feel that you are right.”
+
+Athos arose.
+
+“Come,” he said, stretching out his hand to D’Artagnan, “come, don’t be sullen, my dear son, for I have said all this to you, if not in the tone, at least with the feelings of a father. It would have been easier to me merely to have thanked you for preserving my life and not to have uttered a word of all this.”
+
+“Doubtless, doubtless, Athos. But here it is: you have sentiments, the devil knows what, such as every one can’t entertain. Who could suppose that a sensible man could leave his house, France, his ward — a charming youth, for we saw him in the camp — to fly to the aid of a rotten, worm-eaten royalty, which is going to crumble one of these days like an old hovel. The sentiments you air are certainly fine, so fine that they are superhuman.”
+
+“However that may be, D’Artagnan,” replied Athos, without falling into the snare which his Gascon friend had prepared for him by an appeal to his parental love, “however that may be, you know in the bottom of your heart that it is true; but I am wrong to dispute with my master. D’Artagnan, I am your prisoner — treat me as such.”
+
+“Ah! pardieu!” said D’Artagnan, “you know you will not be my prisoner very long.”
+
+“No,” said Aramis, “they will doubtless treat us like the prisoners of the Philipghauts.”
+
+“And how were they treated?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Why,” said Aramis, “one-half were hanged and the other half were shot.”
+
+“Well, I,” said D’Artagnan “I answer that while there remains a drop of blood in my veins you will be neither hanged nor shot. Sang Diou! let them come on! Besides — do you see that door, Athos?”
+
+“Yes; what then?”
+
+“Well, you can go out by that door whenever you please; for from this moment you are free as the air.”
+
+“I recognize you there, my brave D’Artagnan,” replied Athos; “but you are no longer our masters. That door is guarded, D’Artagnan; you know that.”
+
+“Very well, you will force it,” said Porthos. “There are only a dozen men at the most.”
+
+“That would be nothing for us four; it is too much for us two. No, divided as we now are, we must perish. See the fatal example: on the Vendomois road, D’Artagnan, you so brave, and you, Porthos, so valiant and so strong — you were beaten; to-day Aramis and I are beaten in our turn. Now that never happened to us when we were four together. Let us die, then, as De Winter has died; as for me, I will fly only on condition that we all fly together.”
+
+“Impossible,” said D’Artagnan; “we are under Mazarin’s orders.”
+
+“I know it and I have nothing more to say; my arguments lead to nothing; doubtless they are bad, since they have not determined minds so just as yours.”
+
+“Besides,” said Aramis, “had they taken effect it would be still better not to compromise two excellent friends like D’Artagnan and Porthos. Be assured, gentlemen, we shall do you honor in our dying. As for myself, I shall be proud to face the bullets, or even the rope, in company with you, Athos; for you have never seemed to me so grand as you are to-day.”
+
+D’Artagnan said nothing, but, after having gnawed the flower stalk, he began to bite his nails. At last:
+
+“Do you imagine,” he resumed, “that they mean to kill you? And wherefore should they do so? What interest have they in your death? Moreover, you are our prisoners.”
+
+“Fool!” cried Aramis; “knowest thou not, then, Mordaunt? I have but exchanged with him one look, yet that look convinced me that we were doomed.”
+
+“The truth is, I’m very sorry that I did not strangle him as you advised me,” said Porthos.
+
+“Eh! I make no account of the harm Mordaunt can do!” cried D’Artagnan. “Cap de Diou! if he troubles me too much I will crush him, the insect! Do not fly, then. It is useless; for I swear to you that you are as safe here as you were twenty years, ago — you, Athos, in the Rue Ferou, and you, Aramis, in the Rue de Vaugirard.”
+
+“Stop,” cried Athos, extending his hand to one of the grated windows by which the room was lighted; “you will soon know what to expect, for here he is.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Mordaunt.”
+
+In fact, looking at the place to which Athos pointed, D’Artagnan saw a cavalier coming toward the house at full gallop.
+
+It was Mordaunt.
+
+D’Artagnan rushed out of the room.
+
+Porthos wanted to follow him.
+
+“Stay,” said D’Artagnan, “and do not come till you hear me drum my fingers on the door.”
+
+When Mordaunt arrived opposite the house he saw D’Artagnan on the threshold and the soldiers lying on the grass here and there, with their arms.
+
+“Halloo!” he cried, “are the prisoners still there?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered the sergeant, uncovering.
+
+“’Tis well; order four men to conduct them to my lodging.”
+
+Four men prepared to do so.
+
+“What is it?” said D’Artagnan, with that jeering manner which our readers have so often observed in him since they made his acquaintance. “What is the matter, if you please?”
+
+“Sir,” replied Mordaunt, “I have ordered the two prisoners we made this morning to be conducted to my lodging.”
+
+“Wherefore, sir? Excuse curiosity, but I wish to be enlightened on the subject.”
+
+“Because these prisoners, sir, are at my disposal and I choose to dispose of them as I like.”
+
+“Allow me — allow me, sir,” said D’Artagnan, “to observe you are in error. The prisoners belong to those who take them and not to those who only saw them taken. You might have taken Lord Winter — who, ’tis said, was your uncle — prisoner, but you preferred killing him; ’tis well; we, that is, Monsieur du Vallon and I, could have killed our prisoners — we preferred taking them.”
+
+Mordaunt’s very lips grew white with rage.
+
+D’Artagnan now saw that affairs were growing worse and he beat the guard’s march upon the door. At the first beat Porthos rushed out and stood on the other side of the door.
+
+This movement was observed by Mordaunt.
+
+“Sir!” he thus addressed D’Artagnan, “your resistance is useless; these prisoners have just been given me by my illustrious patron, Oliver Cromwell.”
+
+These words struck D’Artagnan like a thunderbolt. The blood mounted to his temples, his eyes became dim; he saw from what fountainhead the ferocious hopes of the young man arose, and he put his hand to the hilt of his sword.
+
+As for Porthos, he looked inquiringly at D’Artagnan.
+
+This look of Porthos’s made the Gascon regret that he had summoned the brute force of his friend to aid him in an affair which seemed to require chiefly cunning.
+
+“Violence,” he said to himself, “would spoil all; D’Artagnan, my friend, prove to this young serpent that thou art not only stronger, but more subtle than he is.”
+
+“Ah!” he said, making a low bow, “why did you not begin by saying that, Monsieur Mordaunt? What! are you sent by General Oliver Cromwell, the most illustrious captain of the age?”
+
+“I have this instant left him,” replied Mordaunt, alighting, in order to give his horse to a soldier to hold.
+
+“Why did you not say so at once, my dear sir! all England is with Cromwell; and since you ask for my prisoners, I bend, sir, to your wishes. They are yours; take them.”
+
+Mordaunt, delighted, advanced, Porthos looking at D’Artagnan with open-mouthed astonishment. Then D’Artagnan trod on his foot and Porthos began to understand that this was merely acting.
+
+Mordaunt put his foot on the first step of the door and, with his hat in hand, prepared to pass by the two friends, motioning to the four men to follow him.
+
+“But, pardon,” said D’Artagnan, with the most charming smile and putting his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “if the illustrious General Oliver Cromwell has disposed of our prisoners in your favour, he has, of course, made that act of donation in writing.”
+
+Mordaunt stopped short.
+
+“He has given you some little writing for me — the least bit of paper which may show that you come in his name. Be pleased to give me that scrap of paper so that I may justify, by a pretext at least, my abandoning my countrymen. Otherwise, you see, although I am sure that General Oliver Cromwell can intend them no harm, it would have a bad appearance.”
+
+Mordaunt recoiled; he felt the blow and discharged a terrible look at D’Artagnan, who responded by the most amiable expression that ever graced a human countenance.
+
+“When I tell you a thing, sir,” said Mordaunt, “you insult me by doubting it.”
+
+“I!” cried D’Artagnan, “I doubt what you say! God keep me from it, my dear Monsieur Mordaunt! On the contrary, I take you to be a worthy and accomplished gentleman. And then, sir, do you wish me to speak freely to you?” continued D’Artagnan, with his frank expression.
+
+“Speak out, sir,” said Mordaunt.
+
+“Monsieur du Vallon, yonder, is rich and has forty thousand francs yearly, so he does not care about money. I do not speak for him, but for myself.”
+
+“Well, sir? What more?”
+
+“Well — I — I’m not rich. In Gascony ’tis no dishonor, sir, nobody is rich; and Henry IV., of glorious memory, who was the king of the Gascons, as His Majesty Philip IV. is the king of the Spaniards, never had a penny in his pocket.”
+
+“Go on, sir, I see what you wish to get at; and if it is simply what I think that stops you, I can obviate the difficulty.”
+
+“Ah, I knew well,” said the Gascon, “that you were a man of talent. Well, here’s the case, here’s where the saddle hurts me, as we French say. I am an officer of fortune, nothing else; I have nothing but what my sword brings me in — that is to say, more blows than banknotes. Now, on taking prisoners, this morning, two Frenchmen, who seemed to me of high birth — in short, two knights of the Garter — I said to myself, my fortune is made. I say two, because in such circumstances, Monsieur du Vallon, who is rich, always gives me his prisoners.”
+
+Mordaunt, completely deceived by the wordy civility of D’Artagnan, smiled like a man who understands perfectly the reasons given him, and said:
+
+“I shall have the order signed directly, sir, and with it two thousand pistoles; meanwhile, let me take these men away.”
+
+“No,” replied D’Artagnan; “what signifies a delay of half an hour? I am a man of order, sir; let us do things in order.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” replied Mordaunt, “I could compel you; I command here.”
+
+“Ah, sir!” said D’Artagnan, “I see that although we have had the honor of traveling in your company you do not know us. We are gentlemen; we are, both of us, able to kill you and your eight men — we two only. For Heaven’s sake don’t be obstinate, for when others are obstinate I am obstinate likewise, and then I become ferocious and headstrong, and there’s my friend, who is even more headstrong and ferocious than myself. Besides, we are sent here by Cardinal Mazarin, and at this moment represent both the king and the cardinal, and are, therefore, as ambassadors, able to act with impunity, a thing that General Oliver Cromwell, who is assuredly as great a politician as he is a general, is quite the man to understand. Ask him then, for the written order. What will that cost you my dear Monsieur Mordaunt?”
+
+“Yes, the written order,” said Porthos, who now began to comprehend what D’Artagnan was aiming at, “we ask only for that.”
+
+However inclined Mordaunt was to have recourse to violence, he understood the reasons D’Artagnan had given him; besides, completely ignorant of the friendship which existed between the four Frenchmen, all his uneasiness disappeared when he heard of the plausible motive of the ransom. He decided, therefore, not only to fetch the order, but the two thousand pistoles, at which he estimated the prisoners. He therefore mounted his horse and disappeared.
+
+“Good!” thought D’Artagnan; “a quarter of an hour to go to the tent, a quarter of an hour to return; it is more than we need.” Then turning, without the least change of countenance, to Porthos, he said, looking him full in the face: “Friend Porthos, listen to this; first, not a syllable to either of our friends of what you have heard; it is unnecessary for them to know the service we are going to render them.”
+
+“Very well; I understand.”
+
+“Go to the stable; you will find Mousqueton there; saddle your horses, put your pistols in your saddle-bags, take out the horses and lead them to the street below this, so that there will be nothing to do but mount them; all the rest is my business.”
+
+Porthos made no remark, but obeyed, with the sublime confidence he had in his friend.
+
+“I go,” he said, “only, shall I enter the chamber where those gentlemen are?”
+
+“No, it is not worth while.”
+
+“Well, do me the kindness to take my purse, which I left on the mantelpiece.”
+
+“All right.”
+
+He then proceeded, with his usual calm gait, to the stable and went into the very midst of the soldiery, who, foreigner as he was, could not help admiring his height and the enormous strength of his great limbs.
+
+At the corner of the street he met Mousqueton and took him with him.
+
+D’Artagnan, meantime, went into the house, whistling a tune which he had begun before Porthos went away.
+
+“My dear Athos, I have reflected on your arguments and I am convinced. I am sorry to have had anything to do with this matter. As you say, Mazarin is a knave. I have resolved to fly with you, not a word — be ready. Your swords are in the corner; do not forget them, they are in many circumstances very useful; there is Porthos’s purse, too.”
+
+He put it into his pocket. The two friends were perfectly stupefied.
+
+“Well, pray, is there anything to be so surprised at?” he said. “I was blind; Athos has made me see, that’s all; come here.”
+
+The two friends went near him.
+
+“Do you see that street? There are the horses. Go out by the door, turn to the right, jump into your saddles, all will be right; don’t be uneasy at anything except mistaking the signal. That will be the signal when I call out — Jesus Seigneur!”
+
+“But give us your word that you will come too, D’Artagnan,” said Athos.
+
+“I swear I will, by Heaven.”
+
+“’Tis settled,” said Aramis; “at the cry ‘Jesus Seigneur’ we go out, upset all that stands in our way, run to our horses, jump into our saddles, spur them; is that all?”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“See, Aramis, as I have told you, D’Artagnan is first amongst us all,” said Athos.
+
+“Very true,” replied the Gascon, “but I always run away from compliments. Don’t forget the signal: ‘Jesus Seigneur!’” and he went out as he came in, whistling the self-same air.
+
+The soldiers were playing or sleeping; two of them were singing in a corner, out of tune, the psalm: “On the rivers of Babylon.”
+
+D’Artagnan called the sergeant. “My dear friend, General Cromwell has sent Monsieur Mordaunt to fetch me. Guard the prisoners well, I beg of you.”
+
+The sergeant made a sign, as much as to say he did not understand French, and D’Artagnan tried to make him comprehend by signs and gestures. Then he went into the stable; he found the five horses saddled, his own amongst the rest.
+
+“Each of you take a horse by the bridle,” he said to Porthos and Mousqueton; “turn to the left, so that Athos and Aramis may see you clearly from the window.”
+
+“They are coming, then?” said Porthos.
+
+“In a moment.”
+
+“You didn’t forget my purse?”
+
+“No; be easy.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+Porthos and Mousqueton each took a horse by the bridle and proceeded to their post.
+
+Then D’Artagnan, being alone, struck a light and lighted a small bit of tinder, mounted his horse and stopped at the door in the midst of the soldiers. There, caressing as he pretended, the animal with his hand, he put this bit of burning tinder in his ear. It was necessary to be as good a horseman as he was to risk such a scheme, for no sooner had the animal felt the burning tinder than he uttered a cry of pain and reared and jumped as if he had been mad.
+
+The soldiers, whom he was nearly trampling, ran away.
+
+“Help! help!” cried D’Artagnan; “stop — my horse has the staggers.”
+
+In an instant the horse’s eyes grew bloodshot and he was white with foam.
+
+“Help!” cried D’Artagnan. “What! will you let me be killed? Jesus Seigneur!”
+
+No sooner had he uttered this cry than the door opened and Athos and Aramis rushed out. The coast, owing to the Gascon’s stratagem, was clear.
+
+“The prisoners are escaping! the prisoners are escaping!” cried the sergeant.
+
+“Stop! stop!” cried D’Artagnan, giving rein to his famous steed, who, darting forth, overturned several men.
+
+“Stop! stop!” cried the soldiers, and ran for their arms.
+
+But the prisoners were in their saddles and lost no time hastening to the nearest gate.
+
+In the middle of the street they saw Grimaud and Blaisois, who were coming to find their masters. With one wave of his hand Athos made Grimaud, who followed the little troop, understand everything, and they passed on like a whirlwind, D’Artagnan still directing them from behind with his voice.
+
+They passed through the gate like apparitions, without the guards thinking of detaining them, and reached the open country.
+
+All this time the soldiers were calling out, “Stop! stop!” and the sergeant, who began to see that he was the victim of an artifice, was almost in a frenzy of despair. Whilst all this was going on, a cavalier in full gallop was seen approaching. It was Mordaunt with the order in his hand.
+
+“The prisoners!” he exclaimed, jumping off his horse.
+
+The sergeant had not the courage to reply; he showed him the open door, the empty room. Mordaunt darted to the steps, understood all, uttered a cry, as if his very heart was pierced, and fell fainting on the stone steps.
+
+Chapter LIX. Noble Natures never lose Courage, nor good Stomachs their Appetites.
+
+The little troop, without looking behind them or exchanging a word, fled at a rapid gallop, fording a little stream, of which none of them knew the name, and leaving on their left a town which Athos declared to be Durham. At last they came in sight of a small wood, and spurring their horses afresh, rode in its direction.
+
+As soon as they had disappeared behind a green curtain sufficiently thick to conceal them from the sight of any one who might be in pursuit they drew up to hold a council together. The two grooms held the horses, that they might take a little rest without being unsaddled, and Grimaud was posted as sentinel.
+
+“Come, first of all,” said Athos to D’Artagnan, “my friend, that I may shake hands with you — you, our rescuer — you, the true hero of us all.”
+
+“Athos is right — you have my adoration,” said Aramis, in his turn pressing his hand. “To what are you not equal, with your superior intelligence, infallible eye, your arm of iron and your enterprising mind!”
+
+“Now,” said the Gascon, “that is all well, I accept for Porthos and myself everything — thanks and compliments; we have plenty of time to spare.”
+
+The two friends, recalled by D’Artagnan to what was also due to Porthos, pressed his hand in their turn.
+
+“And now,” said Athos, “it is not our plan to run anywhere and like madmen, but we must map up our campaign. What shall we do?”
+
+“What are we going to do, i’faith? It is not very difficult to say.”
+
+“Tell us, then, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“We are going to reach the nearest seaport, unite our little resources, hire a vessel and return to France. As for me I will give my last sou for it. Life is the greatest treasure, and speaking candidly, ours hangs by a thread.”
+
+“What do you say to this, Du Vallon?”
+
+“I,” said Porthos, “I am entirely of D’Artagnan’s opinion; this is a ‘beastly’ country, this England.”
+
+“You are quite decided, then, to leave it?” asked Athos of D’Artagnan.
+
+“Egad! I don’t see what is to keep me here.”
+
+A glance was exchanged between Athos and Aramis.
+
+“Go, then, my friends,” said the former, sighing.
+
+“How, go then?” exclaimed D’Artagnan. “Let us go, you mean?”
+
+“No, my friend,” said Athos, “you must leave us.”
+
+“Leave you!” cried D’Artagnan, quite bewildered at this unexpected announcement.
+
+“Bah!” said Porthos, “why separate, since we are all together?”
+
+“Because you can and ought to return to France; your mission is accomplished, but ours is not.”
+
+“Your mission is not accomplished?” exclaimed D’Artagnan, looking in astonishment at Athos.
+
+“No, my friend,” replied Athos, in his gentle but decided voice, “we came here to defend King Charles; we have but ill defended him — it remains for us to save him!”
+
+“To save the king?” said D’Artagnan, looking at Aramis as he had looked at Athos.
+
+Aramis contented himself by making a sign with his head.
+
+D’Artagnan’s countenance took an expression of the deepest compassion; he began to think he had to do with madmen.
+
+“You cannot be speaking seriously, Athos!” said he; “the king is surrounded by an army, which is conducting him to London. This army is commanded by a butcher, or the son of a butcher — it matters little — Colonel Harrison. His majesty, I can assure you, will be tried on his arrival in London; I have heard enough from the lips of Oliver Cromwell to know what to expect.”
+
+A second look was exchanged between Athos and Aramis.
+
+“And when the trial is ended there will be no delay in putting the sentence into execution,” continued D’Artagnan.
+
+“And to what penalty do you think the king will be condemned?” asked Athos.
+
+“The penalty of death, I greatly fear; they have gone too far for him to pardon them, and there is nothing left to them but one thing, and that is to kill him. Have you never heard what Oliver Cromwell said when he came to Paris and was shown the dungeon at Vincennes where Monsieur de Vendome was imprisoned?”
+
+“What did he say?” asked Porthos.
+
+“‘Princes must be knocked on the head.’”
+
+“I remember it,” said Athos.
+
+“And you fancy he will not put his maxim into execution, now that he has got hold of the king?”
+
+“On the contrary, I am certain he will do so. But then that is all the more reason why we should not abandon the august head so threatened.”
+
+“Athos, you are becoming mad.”
+
+“No, my friend,” Athos gently replied, “but De Winter sought us out in France and introduced us, Monsieur d’Herblay and myself, to Madame Henrietta. Her majesty did us the honor to ask our aid for her husband. We engaged our word; our word included everything. It was our strength, our intelligence, our life, in short, that we promised. It remains now for us to keep our word. Is that your opinion, D’Herblay?”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “we have promised.”
+
+“Then,” continued Athos, “we have another reason; it is this — listen: In France at this moment everything is poor and paltry. We have a king ten years old, who doesn’t yet know what he wants; we have a queen blinded by a belated passion; we have a minister who governs France as he would govern a great farm — that is to say, intent only on turning out all the gold he can by the exercise of Italian cunning and invention; we have princes who set up a personal and egotistic opposition, who will draw from Mazarin’s hands only a few ingots of gold or some shreds of power granted as bribes. I have served them without enthusiasm — God knows that I estimated them at their real value, and that they are not high in my esteem — but on principle. To-day I am engaged in a different affair. I have encountered misfortune in a high place, a royal misfortune, a European misfortune; I attach myself to it. If we can succeed in saving the king it will be good; if we die for him it will be grand.”
+
+“So you know beforehand you must perish!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“We fear so, and our only regret is to die so far from both of you.”
+
+“What will you do in a foreign land, an enemy’s country?”
+
+“I traveled in England when I was young, I speak English like an Englishman, and Aramis, too, knows something of the language. Ah! if we had you, my friends! With you, D’Artagnan, with you, Porthos — all four reunited for the first time for twenty years — we would dare not only England, but the three kingdoms put together!”
+
+“And did you promise the queen,” resumed D’Artagnan, petulantly, “to storm the Tower of London, to kill a hundred thousand soldiers, to fight victoriously against the wishes of the nation and the ambition of a man, and when that man is Cromwell? Do not exaggerate your duty. In Heaven’s name, my dear Athos, do not make a useless sacrifice. When I see you merely, you look like a reasonable being; when you speak, I seem to have to do with a madman. Come, Porthos, join me; say frankly, what do you think of this business?”
+
+“Nothing good,” replied Porthos.
+
+“Come,” continued D’Artagnan, who, irritated that instead of listening to him Athos seemed to be attending to his own thoughts, “you have never found yourself the worse for my advice. Well, then, believe me, Athos, your mission is ended, and ended nobly; return to France with us.”
+
+“Friend,” said Athos, “our resolution is irrevocable.”
+
+“Then you have some other motive unknown to us?”
+
+Athos smiled and D’Artagnan struck his hands together in anger and muttered the most convincing reasons that he could discover; but to all these reasons Athos contented himself by replying with a calm, sweet smile and Aramis by nodding his head.
+
+“Very well,” cried D’Artagnan, at last, furious, “very well, since you wish it, let us leave our bones in this beggarly land, where it is always cold, where fine weather is a fog, fog is rain, and rain a deluge; where the sun represents the moon and the moon a cream cheese; in truth, whether we die here or elsewhere matters little, since we must die.”
+
+“Only reflect, my good fellow,” said Athos, “it is but dying rather sooner.”
+
+“Pooh! a little sooner or a little later, it isn’t worth quarreling over.”
+
+“If I am astonished at anything,” remarked Porthos, sententiously, “it is that it has not already happened.”
+
+“Oh, it will happen, you may be sure,” said D’Artagnan. “So it is agreed, and if Porthos makes no objection — — ”
+
+“I,” said Porthos, “I will do whatever you please; and besides, I think what the Comte de la Fere said just now is very good.”
+
+“But your future career, D’Artagnan — your ambition, Porthos?”
+
+“Our future, our ambition!” replied D’Artagnan, with feverish volubility. “Need we think of that since we are to save the king? The king saved — we shall assemble our friends together — we will head the Puritans — reconquer England; we shall re-enter London — place him securely on his throne — — ”
+
+“And he will make us dukes and peers,” said Porthos, whose eyes sparkled with joy at this imaginary prospect.
+
+“Or he will forget us,” added D’Artagnan.
+
+“Oh!” said Porthos.
+
+“Well, that has happened, friend Porthos. It seems to me that we once rendered Anne of Austria a service not much less than that which to-day we are trying to perform for Charles I.; but, none the less, Anne of Austria has forgotten us for twenty years.”
+
+“Well, in spite of that, D’Artagnan,” said Athos, “you are not sorry that you were useful to her?”
+
+“No, indeed,” said D’Artagnan; “I admit even that in my darkest moments I find consolation in that remembrance.”
+
+“You see, then, D’Artagnan, though princes often are ungrateful, God never is.”
+
+“Athos,” said D’Artagnan, “I believe that were you to fall in with the devil, you would conduct yourself so well that you would take him with you to Heaven.”
+
+“So, then?” said Athos, offering his hand to D’Artagnan.
+
+“’Tis settled,” replied D’Artagnan. “I find England a charming country, and I stay — but on one condition only.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That I am not forced to learn English.”
+
+“Well, now,” said Athos, triumphantly, “I swear to you, my friend, by the God who hears us — I believe that there is a power watching over us, and that we shall all four see France again.”
+
+“So be it!” said D’Artagnan, “but I — I confess I have a contrary conviction.”
+
+“Our good D’Artagnan,” said Aramis, “represents among us the opposition in parliament, which always says no, and always does aye.”
+
+“But in the meantime saves the country,” added Athos.
+
+“Well, now that everything is decided,” cried Porthos, rubbing his hands, “suppose we think of dinner! It seems to me that in the most critical positions of our lives we have always dined.”
+
+“Oh! yes, speak of dinner in a country where for a feast they eat boiled mutton, and as a treat drink beer. What the devil did you come to such a country for, Athos? But I forgot,” added the Gascon, smiling, “pardon, I forgot you are no longer Athos; but never mind, let us hear your plan for dinner, Porthos.”
+
+“My plan!”
+
+“Yes, have you a plan?”
+
+“No! I am hungry, that is all.”
+
+“Pardieu, if that is all, I am hungry, too; but it is not everything to be hungry, one must find something to eat, unless we browse on the grass, like our horses — — ”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Aramis, who was not quite so indifferent to the good things of the earth as Athos, “do you remember, when we were at Parpaillot, the beautiful oysters that we ate?”
+
+“And the legs of mutton of the salt marshes,” said Porthos, smacking his lips.
+
+“But,” suggested D’Artagnan, “have we not our friend Mousqueton, who managed for us so well at Chantilly, Porthos?”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “we have Mousqueton, but since he has been steward, he has become very heavy; never mind, let us call him, and to make sure that he will reply agreeably — — 
+
+“Here! Mouston,” cried Porthos.
+
+Mouston appeared, with a most piteous face.
+
+“What is the matter, my dear M. Mouston?” asked D’Artagnan. “Are you ill?”
+
+“Sir, I am very hungry,” replied Mouston.
+
+“Well, it is just for that reason that we have called you, my good M. Mouston. Could you not procure us a few of those nice little rabbits, and some of those delicious partridges, of which you used to make fricassees at the hotel — — ? ‘Faith, I do not remember the name of the hotel.”
+
+“At the hotel of — — ,” said Porthos; “by my faith — nor do I remember it either.”
+
+“It does not matter; and a few of those bottles of old Burgundy wine, which cured your master so quickly of his sprain!”
+
+“Alas! sir,” said Mousqueton, “I much fear that what you ask for are very rare things in this detestable and barren country, and I think we should do better to go and seek hospitality from the owner of a little house we see on the fringe of the forest.”
+
+“How! is there a house in the neighborhood?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied Mousqueton.
+
+“Well, let us, as you say, go and ask a dinner from the master of that house. What is your opinion, gentlemen, and does not M. Mouston’s suggestion appear to you full of sense?”
+
+“Oh!” said Aramis, “suppose the master is a Puritan?”
+
+“So much the better, mordioux!” replied D’Artagnan; “if he is a Puritan we will inform him of the capture of the king, and in honor of the news he will kill for us his fatted hens.”
+
+“But if he should be a cavalier?” said Porthos.
+
+“In that case we will put on an air of mourning and he will pluck for us his black fowls.”
+
+“You are very happy,” exclaimed Athos, laughing, in spite of himself, at the sally of the irresistible Gascon; “for you see the bright side of everything.”
+
+“What would you have?” said D’Artagnan. “I come from a land where there is not a cloud in the sky.”
+
+“It is not like this, then,” said Porthos stretching out his hand to assure himself whether a chill sensation he felt on his cheek was not really caused by a drop of rain.
+
+“Come, come,” said D’Artagnan, “more reason why we should start on our journey. Halloo, Grimaud!”
+
+Grimaud appeared.
+
+“Well, Grimaud, my friend, have you seen anything?” asked the Gascon.
+
+“Nothing!” replied Grimaud.
+
+“Those idiots!” cried Porthos, “they have not even pursued us. Oh! if we had been in their place!”
+
+“Yes, they are wrong,” said D’Artagnan. “I would willingly have said two words to Mordaunt in this little desert. It is an excellent spot for bringing down a man in proper style.”
+
+“I think, decidedly,” observed Aramis, “gentlemen, that the son hasn’t his mother’s energy.”
+
+“What, my good fellow!” replied Athos, “wait awhile; we have scarcely left him two hours ago — he does not know yet in what direction we came nor where we are. We may say that he is not equal to his mother when we put foot in France, if we are not poisoned or killed before then.”
+
+“Meanwhile, let us dine,” suggested Porthos.
+
+“I’faith, yes,” said Athos, “for I am hungry.”
+
+“Look out for the black fowls!” cried Aramis.
+
+And the four friends, guided by Mousqueton, took up the way toward the house, already almost restored to their former gayety; for they were now, as Athos had said, all four once more united and of single mind.
+
+Chapter LX. Respect to Fallen Majesty.
+
+As our fugitives approached the house, they found the ground cut up, as if a considerable body of horsemen had preceded them. Before the door the traces were yet more apparent; these horsemen, whoever they might be, had halted there.
+
+“Egad!” cried D’Artagnan, “it’s quite clear that the king and his escort have been by here.”
+
+“The devil!” said Porthos; “in that case they have eaten everything.”
+
+“Bah!” said D’Artagnan, “they will have left a chicken, at least.” He dismounted and knocked on the door. There was no response.
+
+He pushed open the door and found the first room empty and deserted.
+
+“Well?” cried Porthos.
+
+“I can see nobody,” said D’Artagnan. “Aha!”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Blood!”
+
+At this word the three friends leaped from their horses and entered. D’Artagnan had already opened the door of the second room, and from the expression of his face it was clear that he there beheld some extraordinary object.
+
+The three friends drew near and discovered a young man stretched on the ground, bathed in a pool of blood. It was evident that he had attempted to regain his bed, but had not had sufficient strength to do so.
+
+Athos, who imagined that he saw him move, was the first to go up to him.
+
+“Well?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“Well, if he is dead,” said Athos, “he has not been so long, for he is still warm. But no, his heart is beating. Ho, there, my friend!”
+
+The wounded man heaved a sigh. D’Artagnan took some water in the hollow of his hand and threw it upon his face. The man opened his eyes, made an effort to raise his head, and fell back again. The wound was in the top of his skull and blood was flawing copiously.
+
+Aramis dipped a cloth into some water and applied it to the gash. Again the wounded man opened his eyes and looked in astonishment at these strangers, who appeared to pity him.
+
+“You are among friends,” said Athos, in English; “so cheer up, and tell us, if you have the strength to do so, what has happened?”
+
+“The king,” muttered the wounded man, “the king is a prisoner.”
+
+“You have seen him?” asked Aramis, in the same language.
+
+The man made no reply.
+
+“Make your mind easy,” resumed Athos, “we are all faithful servants of his majesty.”
+
+“Is what you tell me true?” asked the wounded man.
+
+“On our honor as gentlemen.”
+
+“Then I may tell you all. I am brother to Parry, his majesty’s lackey.”
+
+Athos and Aramis remembered that this was the name by which De Winter had called the man they had found in the passage of the king’s tent.
+
+“We know him,” said Athos, “he never left the king.”
+
+“Yes, that is he. Well, he thought of me, when he saw the king was taken, and as they were passing before the house he begged in the king’s name that they would stop, as the king was hungry. They brought him into this room and placed sentinels at the doors and windows. Parry knew this room, as he had often been to see me when the king was at Newcastle. He knew that there was a trap-door communicating with a cellar, from which one could get into the orchard. He made a sign, which I understood, but the king’s guards must have noticed it and held themselves on guard. I went out as if to fetch wood, passed through the subterranean passage into the cellar, and whilst Parry was gently bolting the door, pushed up the board and beckoned to the king to follow me. Alas! he would not. But Parry clasped his hands and implored him, and at last he agreed. I went on first, fortunately. The king was a few steps behind me, when suddenly I saw something rise up in front of me like a huge shadow. I wanted to cry out to warn the king, but that very moment I felt a blow as if the house was falling on my head, and fell insensible. When I came to myself again, I was stretched in the same place. I dragged myself as far as the yard. The king and his escort were no longer there. I spent perhaps an hour in coming from the yard to this place; then my strength gave out and I fainted again.”
+
+“And now how are you feeling?”
+
+“Very ill,” replied the wounded man.
+
+“Can we do anything for you?” asked Athos.
+
+“Help to put me on the bed; I think I shall feel better there.”
+
+“Have you any one to depend on for assistance?”
+
+“My wife is at Durham and may return at any moment. But you — is there nothing that you want?”
+
+“We came here with the intention of asking for something to eat.”
+
+“Alas, they have taken everything; there isn’t a morsel of bread in the house.”
+
+“You hear, D’Artagnan?” said Athos; “we shall have to look elsewhere for our dinner.”
+
+“It is all one to me now,” said D’Artagnan; “I am no longer hungry.”
+
+“Faith! neither am I,” said Porthos.
+
+They carried the man to his bed and called Grimaud to dress the wound. In the service of the four friends Grimaud had had so frequent occasion to make lint and bandages that he had become something of a surgeon.
+
+In the meantime the fugitives had returned to the first room, where they took counsel together.
+
+“Now,” said Aramis, “we know how the matter stands. The king and his escort have gone this way; we had better take the opposite direction, eh?”
+
+Athos did not reply; he reflected.
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “let us take the opposite direction; if we follow the escort we shall find everything devoured and die of hunger. What a confounded country this England is! This is the first time I have gone without my dinner for ten years, and it is generally my best meal.”
+
+“What do you think, D’Artagnan?” asked Athos. “Do you agree with Aramis?”
+
+“Not at all,” said D’Artagnan; “I am precisely of the contrary opinion.”
+
+“What! you would follow the escort?” exclaimed Porthos, in dismay.
+
+“No, I would join the escort.”
+
+Athos’s eyes shone with joy.
+
+“Join the escort!” cried Aramis.
+
+“Let D’Artagnan speak,” said Athos; “you know he always has wise advice to give.”
+
+“Clearly,” said D’Artagnan, “we must go where they will not look for us. Now, they will be far from looking for us among the Puritans; therefore, with the Puritans we must go.”
+
+“Good, my friend, good!” said Athos. “It is excellent advice. I was about to give it when you anticipated me.”
+
+“That, then, is your opinion?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Yes. They will think we are trying to leave England and will search for us at the ports; meanwhile we shall reach London with the king. Once in London we shall be hard to find — without considering,” continued Athos, throwing a glance at Aramis, “the chances that may come to us on the way.”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “I understand.”
+
+“I, however, do not understand,” said Porthos. “But no matter; since it is at the same time the opinion of D’Artagnan and of Athos, it must be the best.”
+
+“But,” said Aramis, “shall we not be suspected by Colonel Harrison?”
+
+“Egad!” cried D’Artagnan, “he’s just the man I count upon. Colonel Harrison is one of our friends. We have met him twice at General Cromwell’s. He knows that we were sent from France by Monsieur Mazarin; he will consider us as brothers. Besides, is he not a butcher’s son? Well, then, Porthos shall show him how to knock down an ox with a blow of the fist, and I how to trip up a bull by taking him by the horns. That will insure his confidence.”
+
+Athos smiled. “You are the best companion that I know, D’Artagnan,” he said, offering his hand to the Gascon; “and I am very happy in having found you again, my dear son.”
+
+This was, as we have seen, the term which Athos applied to D’Artagnan in his more expansive moods.
+
+At this moment Grimaud came in. He had stanched the wound and the man was better.
+
+The four friends took leave of him and asked if they could deliver any message for him to his brother.
+
+“Tell him,” answered the brave man, “to let the king know that they have not killed me outright. However insignificant I am, I am sure that his majesty is concerned for me and blames himself for my death.”
+
+“Be easy,” said D’Artagnan, “he will know all before night.”
+
+The little troop recommenced their march, and at the end of two hours perceived a considerable body of horsemen about half a league ahead.
+
+“My dear friends,” said D’Artagnan, “give your swords to Monsieur Mouston, who will return them to you at the proper time and place, and do not forget you are our prisoners.”
+
+It was not long before they joined the escort. The king was riding in front, surrounded by troopers, and when he saw Athos and Aramis a glow of pleasure lighted his pale cheeks.
+
+D’Artagnan passed to the head of the column, and leaving his friends under the guard of Porthos, went straight to Harrison, who recognized him as having met him at Cromwell’s and received him as politely as a man of his breeding and disposition could. It turned out as D’Artagnan had foreseen. The colonel neither had nor could have any suspicion.
+
+They halted for the king to dine. This time, however, due precautions were taken to prevent any attempt at escape. In the large room of the hotel a small table was placed for him and a large one for the officers.
+
+“Will you dine with me?” asked Harrison of D’Artagnan.
+
+“Gad, I should be very happy, but I have my companion, Monsieur du Vallon, and the two prisoners, whom I cannot leave. Let us manage it better. Have a table set for us in a corner and send us whatever you like from yours.”
+
+“Good,” answered Harrison.
+
+The matter was arranged as D’Artagnan had suggested, and when he returned he found the king already seated at his little table, where Parry waited on him, Harrison and his officers sitting together at another table, and, in a corner, places reserved for himself and his companions.
+
+The table at which the Puritan officers were seated was round, and whether by chance or coarse intention, Harrison sat with his back to the king.
+
+The king saw the four gentlemen come in, but appeared to take no notice of them.
+
+They sat down in such a manner as to turn their backs on nobody. The officers, table and that of the king were opposite to them.
+
+“I’faith, colonel,” said D’Artagnan, “we are very grateful for your gracious invitation; for without you we ran the risk of going without dinner, as we have without breakfast. My friend here, Monsieur du Vallon, shares my gratitude, for he was particularly hungry.”
+
+“And I am so still,” said Porthos bowing to Harrison.
+
+“And how,” said Harrison, laughing, “did this serious calamity of going without breakfast happen to you?”
+
+“In a very simple manner, colonel,” said D’Artagnan. “I was in a hurry to join you and took the road you had already gone by. You can understand our disappointment when, arriving at a pretty little house on the skirts of a wood, which at a distance had quite a gay appearance, with its red roof and green shutters, we found nothing but a poor wretch bathed — Ah! colonel, pay my respects to the officer of yours who struck that blow.”
+
+“Yes,” said Harrison, laughing, and looking over at one of the officers seated at his table. “When Groslow undertakes this kind of thing there’s no need to go over the ground a second time.”
+
+“Ah! it was this gentleman?” said D’Artagnan, bowing to the officer. “I am sorry he does not speak French, that I might tender him my compliments.”
+
+“I am ready to receive and return them, sir,” said the officer, in pretty good French, “for I resided three years in Paris.”
+
+“Then, sir, allow me to assure you that your blow was so well directed that you have nearly killed your man.”
+
+“Nearly? I thought I had quite,” said Groslow.
+
+“No. It was a very near thing, but he is not dead.”
+
+As he said this, D’Artagnan gave a glance at Parry, who was standing in front of the king, to show him that the news was meant for him.
+
+The king, too, who had listened in the greatest agony, now breathed again.
+
+“Hang it,” said Groslow, “I thought I had succeeded better. If it were not so far from here to the house I would return and finish him.”
+
+“And you would do well, if you are afraid of his recovering; for you know, if a wound in the head does not kill at once, it is cured in a week.”
+
+And D’Artagnan threw a second glance toward Parry, on whose face such an expression of joy was manifested that Charles stretched out his hand to him, smiling.
+
+Parry bent over his master’s hand and kissed it respectfully.
+
+“I’ve a great desire to drink the king’s health,” said Athos.
+
+“Let me propose it, then,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Do,” said Aramis.
+
+Porthos looked at D’Artagnan, quite amazed at the resources with which his companion’s Gascon sharpness continually supplied him. D’Artagnan took up his camp tin cup, filled it with wine and arose.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said he, “let us drink to him who presides at the repast. Here’s to our colonel, and let him know that we are always at his commands as far as London and farther.”
+
+And as D’Artagnan, as he spoke, looked at Harrison, the colonel imagined the toast was for himself. He arose and bowed to the four friends, whose eyes were fixed on Charles, while Harrison emptied his glass without the slightest misgiving.
+
+The king, in return, looked at the four gentlemen and drank with a smile full of nobility and gratitude.
+
+“Come, gentlemen,” cried Harrison, regardless of his illustrious captive, “let us be off.”
+
+“Where do we sleep, colonel?”
+
+“At Thirsk,” replied Harrison.
+
+“Parry,” said the king, rising too, “my horse; I desire to go to Thirsk.”
+
+“Egad!” said D’Artagnan to Athos, “your king has thoroughly taken me, and I am quite at his service.”
+
+“If what you say is sincere,” replied Athos, “he will never reach London.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Because before then we shall have carried him off.”
+
+“Well, this time, Athos,” said D’Artagnan, “upon my word, you are mad.”
+
+“Have you some plan in your head then?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Ay!” said Porthos, “the thing would not be impossible with a good plan.”
+
+“I have none,” said Athos; “but D’Artagnan will discover one.”
+
+D’Artagnan shrugged his shoulders and they proceeded.
+
+Chapter LXI. D’Artagnan hits on a Plan.
+
+As night closed in they arrived at Thirsk. The four friends appeared to be entire strangers to one another and indifferent to the precautions taken for guarding the king. They withdrew to a private house, and as they had reason every moment to fear for their safety, they occupied but one room and provided an exit, which might be useful in case of an attack. The lackeys were sent to their several posts, except that Grimaud lay on a truss of straw across the doorway.
+
+D’Artagnan was thoughtful and seemed for the moment to have lost his usual loquacity. Porthos, who could never see anything that was not self-evident, talked to him as usual. He replied in monosyllables and Athos and Aramis looked significantly at one another.
+
+Next morning D’Artagnan was the first to rise. He had been down to the stables, already taken a look at the horses and given the necessary orders for the day, whilst Athos and Aramis were still in bed and Porthos snoring.
+
+At eight o’clock the march was resumed in the same order as the night before, except that D’Artagnan left his friends and began to renew the acquaintance which he had already struck up with Monsieur Groslow.
+
+Groslow, whom D’Artagnan’s praises had greatly pleased, welcomed him with a gracious smile.
+
+“Really, sir,” D’Artagnan said to him, “I am pleased to find one with whom to talk in my own poor tongue. My friend, Monsieur du Vallon, is of a very melancholy disposition, so much so, that one can scarcely get three words out of him all day. As for our two prisoners, you can imagine that they are but little in the vein for conversation.”
+
+“They are hot royalists,” said Groslow.
+
+“The more reason they should be sulky with us for having captured the Stuart, for whom, I hope, you’re preparing a pretty trial.”
+
+“Why,” said Groslow, “that is just what we are taking him to London for.”
+
+“And you never by any chance lose sight of him, I presume?”
+
+“I should think not, indeed. You see he has a truly royal escort.”
+
+“Ay, there’s no fear in the daytime; but at night?”
+
+“We redouble our precautions.”
+
+“And what method of surveillance do you employ?”
+
+“Eight men remain constantly in his room.”
+
+“The deuce, he is well guarded, then. But besides these eight men, you doubtless place some guard outside?”
+
+“Oh, no! Just think. What would you have two men without arms do against eight armed men?”
+
+“Two men — how do you mean?”
+
+“Yes, the king and his lackey.”
+
+“Oh! then they allow the lackey to remain with him?”
+
+“Yes; Stuart begged this favor and Harrison consented. Under pretense that he’s a king it appears he cannot dress or undress without assistance.”
+
+“Really, captain,” said D’Artagnan, determined to continue on the laudatory tack on which he had commenced, “the more I listen to you the more surprised I am at the easy and elegant manner in which you speak French. You have lived three years in Paris? May I ask what you were doing there?”
+
+“My father, who is a merchant, placed me with his correspondent, who in turn sent his son to join our house in London.”
+
+“Were you pleased with Paris, sir?”
+
+“Yes, but you are much in want of a revolution like our own — not against your king, who is a mere child, but against that lazar of an Italian, the queen’s favorite.”
+
+“Ah! I am quite of your opinion, sir, and we should soon make an end of Mazarin if we had only a dozen officers like yourself, without prejudices, vigilant and incorruptible.”
+
+“But,” said the officer, “I thought you were in his service and that it was he who sent you to General Cromwell.”
+
+“That is to say I am in the king’s service, and that knowing he wanted to send some one to England, I solicited the appointment, so great was my desire to know the man of genius who now governs the three kingdoms. So that when he proposed to us to draw our swords in honor of old England you see how we snapped up the proposition.”
+
+“Yes, I know that you charged by the side of Mordaunt.”
+
+“On his right and left, sir. Ah! there’s another brave and excellent young man.”
+
+“Do you know him?” asked the officer.
+
+“Yes, very well. Monsieur du Vallon and myself came from France with him.”
+
+“It appears, too, you kept him waiting a long time at Boulogne.”
+
+“What would you have? I was like you, and had a king in keeping.”
+
+“Aha!” said Groslow; “what king?”
+
+“Our own, to be sure, the little one — Louis XIV.”
+
+“And how long had you to take care of him?”
+
+“Three nights; and, by my troth, I shall always remember those three nights with a certain pleasure.”
+
+“How do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that my friends, officers in the guards and mousquetaires, came to keep me company and we passed the night in feasting, drinking, dicing.”
+
+“Ah true,” said the Englishman, with a sigh; “you Frenchmen are born boon companions.”
+
+“And don’t you play, too, when you are on guard?”
+
+“Never,” said the Englishman.
+
+“In that case you must be horribly bored, and have my sympathy.”
+
+“The fact is, I look to my turn for keeping guard with horror. It’s tiresome work to keep awake a whole night.”
+
+“Yes, but with a jovial partner and dice, and guineas clinking on the cloth, the night passes like a dream. You don’t like playing, then?”
+
+“On the contrary, I do.”
+
+“Lansquenet, for instance?”
+
+“Devoted to it. I used to play almost every night in France.”
+
+“And since your return to England?”
+
+“I have not handled a card or dice-box.”
+
+“I sincerely pity you,” said D’Artagnan, with an air of profound compassion.
+
+“Look here,” said the Englishman.
+
+“Well?”
+
+“To-morrow I am on guard.”
+
+“In Stuart’s room?”
+
+“Yes; come and pass the night with me.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“Impossible! why so?”
+
+“I play with Monsieur du Vallon every night. Sometimes we don’t go to bed at all!”
+
+“Well, what of that?”
+
+“Why, he would be annoyed if I did not play with him.”
+
+“Does he play well?”
+
+“I have seen him lose as much as two thousand pistoles, laughing all the while till the tears rolled down.”
+
+“Bring him with you, then.”
+
+“But how about our prisoners?”
+
+“Let your servants guard them.”
+
+“Yes, and give them a chance of escaping,” said D’Artagnan. “Why, one of them is a rich lord from Touraine and the other a knight of Malta, of noble family. We have arranged the ransom of each of them — 2,000 on arriving in France. We are reluctant to leave for a single moment men whom our lackeys know to be millionaires. It is true we plundered them a little when we took them, and I will even confess that it is their purse that Monsieur du Vallon and I draw on in our nightly play. Still, they may have concealed some precious stone, some valuable diamond; so that we are like those misers who are unable to absent themselves from their treasures. We have made ourselves the constant guardians of our men, and while I sleep Monsieur du Vallon watches.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Groslow.
+
+“You see, then, why I must decline your polite invitation, which is especially attractive to me, because nothing is so wearisome as to play night after night with the same person; the chances always balance and at the month’s end nothing is gained or lost.”
+
+“Ah!” said Groslow, sighing; “there is something still more wearisome, and that is not to play at all.”
+
+“I can understand that,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“But, come,” resumed the Englishman, “are these men of yours dangerous?”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“Are they capable of attempting violence?”
+
+D’Artagnan burst out laughing at the idea.
+
+“Jesus Dieu!” he cried; “one of them is trembling with fever, having failed to adapt himself to this charming country of yours, and the other is a knight of Malta, as timid as a young girl; and for greater security we have taken from them even their penknives and pocket scissors.”
+
+“Well, then,” said Groslow, “bring them with you.”
+
+“But really — — ” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“I have eight men on guard, you know. Four of them can guard the king and the other four your prisoners. I’ll manage it somehow, you will see.”
+
+“But,” said D’Artagnan, “now I think of it — what is to prevent our beginning to-night?”
+
+“Nothing at all,” said Groslow.
+
+“Just so. Come to us this evening and to-morrow we’ll return your visit.”
+
+“Capital! This evening with you, to-morrow at Stuart’s, the next day with me.”
+
+“You see, that with a little forethought one can lead a merry life anywhere and everywhere,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, with Frenchmen, and Frenchmen like you.”
+
+“And Monsieur du Vallon,” added the other. “You will see what a fellow he is; a man who nearly killed Mazarin between two doors. They employ him because they are afraid of him. Ah, there he is calling me now. You’ll excuse me, I know.”
+
+They exchanged bows and D’Artagnan returned to his companions.
+
+“What on earth can you have been saying to that bulldog?” exclaimed Porthos.
+
+“My dear fellow, don’t speak like that of Monsieur Groslow. He’s one of my most intimate friends.”
+
+“One of your friends!” cried Porthos, “this butcher of unarmed farmers!”
+
+“Hush! my dear Porthos. Monsieur Groslow is perhaps rather hasty, it’s true, but at bottom I have discovered two good qualities in him — he is conceited and stupid.”
+
+Porthos opened his eyes in amazement; Athos and Aramis looked at one another and smiled; they knew D’Artagnan, and knew that he did nothing without a purpose.
+
+“But,” continued D’Artagnan, “you shall judge of him for yourself. He is coming to play with us this evening.”
+
+“Oho!” said Porthos, his eyes glistening at the news. “Is he rich?”
+
+“He’s the son of one of the wealthiest merchants in London.”
+
+“And knows lansquenet?”
+
+“Adores it.”
+
+“Basset?”
+
+“His mania.”
+
+“Biribi?”
+
+“Revels in it.”
+
+“Good,” said Porthos; “we shall pass an agreeable evening.”
+
+“The more so, as it will be the prelude to a better.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“We invite him to play to-night; he has invited us in return to-morrow. But wait. To-night we stop at Derby; and if there is a bottle of wine in the town let Mousqueton buy it. It will be well to prepare a light supper, of which you, Athos and Aramis, are not to partake — Athos, because I told him you had a fever; Aramis, because you are a knight of Malta and won’t mix with fellows like us. Do you understand?”
+
+“That’s no doubt very fine,” said Porthos; “but deuce take me if I understand at all.”
+
+“Porthos, my friend, you know I am descended on the father’s side from the Prophets and on the mother’s from the Sybils, and that I only speak in parables and riddles. Let those who have ears hear and those who have eyes see; I can tell you nothing more at present.”
+
+“Go ahead, my friend,” said Athos; “I am sure that whatever you do is well done.”
+
+“And you, Aramis, are you of that opinion?”
+
+“Entirely so, my dear D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Very good,” said D’Artagnan; “here indeed are true believers; it is a pleasure to work miracles before them; they are not like that unbelieving Porthos, who must see and touch before he will believe.”
+
+“The fact is,” said Porthos, with an air of finesse, “I am rather incredulous.”
+
+D’Artagnan gave him playful buffet on the shoulder, and as they had reached the station where they were to breakfast, the conversation ended there.
+
+At five in the evening they sent Mousqueton on before as agreed upon. Blaisois went with him.
+
+In crossing the principal street in Derby the four friends perceived Blaisois standing in the doorway of a handsome house. It was there a lodging was prepared for them.
+
+At the hour agreed upon Groslow came. D’Artagnan received him as he would have done a friend of twenty years’ standing. Porthos scanned him from head to foot and smiled when he discovered that in spite of the blow he had administered to Parry’s brother, he was not nearly so strong as himself. Athos and Aramis suppressed as well as they could the disgust they felt in the presence of such coarseness and brutality.
+
+In short, Groslow seemed to be pleased with his reception.
+
+Athos and Aramis kept themselves to their role. At midnight they withdrew to their chamber, the door of which was left open on the pretext of kindly consideration. Furthermore, D’Artagnan went with them, leaving Porthos at play with Groslow.
+
+Porthos gained fifty pistoles from Groslow, and found him a more agreeable companion than he had at first believed him to be.
+
+As to Groslow, he promised himself that on the following evening he would recover from D’Artagnan what he had lost to Porthos, and on leaving reminded the Gascon of his appointment.
+
+The next day was spent as usual. D’Artagnan went from Captain Groslow to Colonel Harrison and from Colonel Harrison to his friends. To any one not acquainted with him he seemed to be in his normal condition; but to his friends — to Athos and Aramis — was apparent a certain feverishness in his gayety.
+
+“What is he contriving?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Wait,” said Athos.
+
+Porthos said nothing, but he handled in his pocket the fifty pistoles he had gained from Groslow with a degree of satisfaction which betrayed itself in his whole bearing.
+
+Arrived at Ryston, D’Artagnan assembled his friends. His face had lost the expression of careless gayety it had worn like a mask the whole day. Athos pinched Aramis’s hand.
+
+“The moment is at hand,” he said.
+
+“Yes,” returned D’Artagnan, who had overheard him, “to-night, gentlemen, we rescue the king.”
+
+“D’Artagnan,” said Athos, “this is no joke, I trust? It would quite cut me up.”
+
+“You are a very odd man, Athos,” he replied, “to doubt me thus. Where and when have you seen me trifle with a friend’s heart and a king’s life? I have told you, and I repeat it, that to-night we rescue Charles I. You left it to me to discover the means and I have done so.”
+
+Porthos looked at D’Artagnan with an expression of profound admiration. Aramis smiled as one who hopes. Athos was pale, and trembled in every limb.
+
+“Speak,” said Athos.
+
+“We are invited,” replied D’Artagnan, “to pass the night with M. Groslow. But do you know where?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“In the king’s room.”
+
+“The king’s room?” cried Athos.
+
+“Yes, gentlemen, in the king’s room. Groslow is on guard there this evening, and to pass the time away he has invited us to keep him company.”
+
+“All four of us?” asked Athos.
+
+“Pardieu! certainly, all four; we couldn’t leave our prisoners, could we?”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Aramis.
+
+“Tell us about it,” said Athos, palpitating.
+
+“We are going, then, we two with our swords, you with daggers. We four have got to master these eight fools and their stupid captain. Monsieur Porthos, what do you say to that?”
+
+“I say it is easy enough,” answered Porthos.
+
+“We dress the king in Groslow’s clothes. Mousqueton, Grimaud and Blaisois have our horses saddled at the end of the first street. We mount them and before daylight are twenty leagues distant.”
+
+Athos placed his two hands on D’Artagnan’s shoulders, and gazed at him with his calm, sad smile.
+
+“I declare, my friend,” said he, “that there is not a creature under the sky who equals you in prowess and in courage. Whilst we thought you indifferent to our sorrows, which you couldn’t share without crime, you alone among us have discovered what we were searching for in vain. I repeat it, D’Artagnan, you are the best one among us; I bless and love you, my dear son.”
+
+“And to think that I couldn’t find that out,” said Porthos, scratching his head; “it is so simple.”
+
+“But,” said Aramis, “if I understand rightly we are to kill them all, eh?”
+
+Athos shuddered and turned pale.
+
+“Mordioux!” answered D’Artagnan, “I believe we must. I confess I can discover no other safe and satisfactory way.”
+
+“Let us see,” said Aramis, “how are we to act?”
+
+“I have arranged two plans. Firstly, at a given signal, which shall be the words ‘At last,’ you each plunge a dagger into the heart of the soldier nearest to you. We, on our side, do the same. That will be four killed. We shall then be matched, four against the remaining five. If these five men give themselves up we gag them; if they resist, we kill them. If by chance our Amphitryon changes his mind and receives only Porthos and myself, why, then, we must resort to heroic measures and each give two strokes instead of one. It will take a little longer time and may make a greater disturbance, but you will be outside with swords and will rush in at the proper time.”
+
+“But if you yourselves should be struck?” said Athos.
+
+“Impossible!” said D’Artagnan; “those beer drinkers are too clumsy and awkward. Besides, you will strike at the throat, Porthos; it kills as quickly and prevents all outcry.”
+
+“Very good,” said Porthos; “it will be a nice little throat cutting.”
+
+“Horrible, horrible,” exclaimed Athos.
+
+“Nonsense,” said D’Artagnan; “you would do as much, Mr. Humanity, in a battle. But if you think the king’s life is not worth what it must cost there’s an end of the matter and I send to Groslow to say I am ill.”
+
+“No, you are right,” said Athos.
+
+At this moment a soldier entered to inform them that Groslow was waiting for them.
+
+“Where?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“In the room of the English Nebuchadnezzar,” replied the staunch Puritan.
+
+“Good,” replied Athos, whose blood mounted to his face at the insult offered to royalty; “tell the captain we are coming.”
+
+The Puritan then went out. The lackeys had been ordered to saddle eight horses and to wait, keeping together and without dismounting, at the corner of a street about twenty steps from the house where the king was lodged.
+
+It was nine o’clock in the evening; the sentinels had been relieved at eight and Captain Groslow had been on guard for an hour. D’Artagnan and Porthos, armed with their swords, and Athos and Aramis, each carrying a concealed poniard, approached the house which for the time being was Charles Stuart’s prison. The two latter followed their captors in the humble guise of captives, without arms.
+
+“Od’s bodikins,” said Groslow, as the four friends entered, “I had almost given you up.”
+
+D’Artagnan went up to him and whispered in his ear:
+
+“The fact is, we, that is, Monsieur du Vallon and I, hesitated a little.”
+
+“And why?”
+
+D’Artagnan looked significantly toward Athos and Aramis.
+
+“Aha,” said Groslow; “on account of political opinions? No matter. On the contrary,” he added, laughing, “if they want to see their Stuart they shall see him.
+
+“Are we to pass the night in the king’s room?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“No, but in the one next to it, and as the door will remain open it comes to the same thing. Have you provided yourself with money? I assure you I intend to play the devil’s game to-night.”
+
+D’Artagnan rattled the gold in his pockets.
+
+“Very good,” said Groslow, and opened the door of the room. “I will show you the way,” and he went in first.
+
+D’Artagnan turned to look at his friends. Porthos was perfectly indifferent; Athos, pale, but resolute; Aramis was wiping a slight moisture from his brow.
+
+The eight guards were at their posts. Four in the king’s room, two at the door between the rooms and two at that by which the friends had entered. Athos smiled when he saw their bare swords; he felt it was no longer to be a butchery, but a fight, and he resumed his usual good humor.
+
+Charles was perceived through the door, lying dressed upon his bed, at the head of which Parry was seated, reading in a low voice a chapter from the Bible.
+
+A candle of coarse tallow on a black table lighted up the handsome and resigned face of the king and that of his faithful retainer, far less calm.
+
+From time to time Parry stopped, thinking the king, whose eyes were closed, was really asleep, but Charles would open his eyes and say with a smile:
+
+“Go on, my good Parry, I am listening.”
+
+Groslow advanced to the door of the king’s room, replaced on his head the hat he had taken off to receive his guests, looked for a moment contemptuously at this simple, yet touching scene, then turning to D’Artagnan, assumed an air of triumph at what he had achieved.
+
+“Capital!” cried the Gascon, “you would make a distinguished general.”
+
+“And do you think,” asked Groslow, “that Stuart will ever escape while I am on guard?”
+
+“No, to be sure,” replied D’Artagnan; “unless, forsooth, the sky rains friends upon him.”
+
+Groslow’s face brightened.
+
+It is impossible to say whether Charles, who kept his eyes constantly closed, had noticed the insolence of the Puritan captain, but the moment he heard the clear tone of D’Artagnan’s voice his eyelids rose, in spite of himself.
+
+Parry, too, started and stopped reading.
+
+“What are you thinking about?” said the king; “go on, my good Parry, unless you are tired.”
+
+Parry resumed his reading.
+
+On a table in the next room were lighted candles, cards, two dice-boxes, and dice.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Groslow, “I beg you will take your places. I will sit facing Stuart, whom I like so much to see, especially where he now is, and you, Monsieur d’Artagnan, opposite to me.”
+
+Athos turned red with rage. D’Artagnan frowned at him.
+
+“That’s it,” said D’Artagnan; “you, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, to the right of Monsieur Groslow. You, Chevalier d’Herblay, to his left. Du Vallon next me. You’ll bet for me and those gentlemen for Monsieur Groslow.”
+
+By this arrangement D’Artagnan could nudge Porthos with his knee and make signs with his eyes to Athos and Aramis.
+
+At the names Comte de la Fere and Chevalier d’Herblay, Charles opened his eyes, and raising his noble head, in spite of himself, threw a glance at all the actors in the scene.
+
+At that moment Parry turned over several leaves of his Bible and read with a loud voice this verse in Jeremiah:
+
+“God said, ‘Hear ye the words of the prophets my servants, whom I have sent unto you.’”
+
+The four friends exchanged glances. The words that Parry had read assured them that their presence was understood by the king and was assigned to its real motive. D’Artagnan’s eyes sparkled with joy.
+
+“You asked me just now if I was in funds,” said D’Artagnan, placing some twenty pistoles upon the table. “Well, in my turn I advise you to keep a sharp lookout on your treasure, my dear Monsieur Groslow, for I can tell you we shall not leave this without robbing you of it.”
+
+“Not without my defending it,” said Groslow.
+
+“So much the better,” said D’Artagnan. “Fight, my dear captain, fight. You know or you don’t know, that that is what we ask of you.”
+
+“Oh! yes,” said Groslow, bursting with his usual coarse laugh, “I know you Frenchmen want nothing but cuts and bruises.”
+
+Charles had heard and understood it all. A slight color mounted to his cheeks. The soldiers then saw him stretch his limbs, little by little, and under the pretense of much heat throw off the Scotch plaid which covered him.
+
+Athos and Aramis started with delight to find that the king was lying with his clothes on.
+
+The game began. The luck had turned, and Groslow, having won some hundred pistoles, was in the merriest possible humor.
+
+Porthos, who had lost the fifty pistoles he had won the night before and thirty more besides, was very cross and questioned D’Artagnan with a nudge of the knee as to whether it would not soon be time to change the game. Athos and Aramis looked at him inquiringly. But D’Artagnan remained impassible.
+
+It struck ten. They heard the guard going its rounds.
+
+“How many rounds do they make a night?” asked D’Artagnan, drawing more pistoles from his pocket.
+
+“Five,” answered Groslow, “one every two hours.”
+
+D’Artagnan glanced at Athos and Aramis and for the first time replied to Porthos’s nudge of the knee by a nudge responsive. Meanwhile, the soldiers whose duty it was to remain in the king’s room, attracted by that love of play so powerful in all men, had stolen little by little toward the table, and standing on tiptoe, lounged, watching the game, over the shoulders of D’Artagnan and Porthos. Those on the other side had followed their example, thus favoring the views of the four friends, who preferred having them close at hand to chasing them about the chamber. The two sentinels at the door still had their swords unsheathed, but they were leaning on them while they watched the game.
+
+Athos seemed to grow calm as the critical moment approached. With his white, aristocratic hands he played with the louis, bending and straightening them again, as if they were made of pewter. Aramis, less self-controlled, fumbled continually with his hidden poniard. Porthos, impatient at his continued losses, kept up a vigorous play with his knee.
+
+D’Artagnan turned, mechanically looking behind him, and between the figures of two soldiers he could see Parry standing up and Charles leaning on his elbow with his hands clasped and apparently offering a fervent prayer to God.
+
+D’Artagnan saw that the moment was come. He darted a preparatory glance at Athos and Aramis, who slyly pushed their chairs a little back so as to leave themselves more space for action. He gave Porthos a second nudge of the knee and Porthos got up as if to stretch his legs and took care at the same time to ascertain that his sword could be drawn smoothly from the scabbard.
+
+“Hang it!” cried D’Artagnan, “another twenty pistoles lost. Really, Captain Groslow, you are too much in fortune’s way. This can’t last,” and he drew another twenty from his pocket. “One more turn, captain; twenty pistoles on one throw — only one, the last.”
+
+“Done for twenty,” replied Groslow.
+
+And he turned up two cards as usual, a king for D’Artagnan and an ace for himself.
+
+“A king,” said D’Artagnan; “it’s a good omen, Master Groslow — look out for the king.”
+
+And in spite of his extraordinary self-control there was a strange vibration in the Gascon’s voice which made his partner start.
+
+Groslow began turning the cards one after another. If he turned up an ace first he won; if a king he lost.
+
+He turned up a king.
+
+“At last!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+At this word Athos and Aramis jumped up. Porthos drew back a step. Daggers and swords were just about to shine, when suddenly the door was thrown open and Harrison appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a man enveloped in a large cloak. Behind this man could be seen the glistening muskets of half a dozen soldiers.
+
+Groslow jumped up, ashamed at being surprised in the midst of wine, cards, and dice. But Harrison paid not the least attention to him, and entering the king’s room, followed by his companion:
+
+“Charles Stuart,” said he, “an order has come to conduct you to London without stopping day or night. Prepare yourself, then, to start at once.”
+
+“And by whom is this order given?” asked the king.
+
+“By General Oliver Cromwell. And here is Mr. Mordaunt, who has brought it and is charged with its execution.”
+
+“Mordaunt!” muttered the four friends, exchanging glances.
+
+D’Artagnan swept up the money that he and Porthos had lost and buried it in his huge pocket. Athos and Aramis placed themselves behind him. At this movement Mordaunt turned around, recognized them, and uttered an exclamation of savage delight.
+
+“I’m afraid we are prisoners,” whispered D’Artagnan to his friend.
+
+“Not yet,” replied Porthos.
+
+“Colonel, colonel,” cried Mordaunt, “you are betrayed. These four Frenchmen have escaped from Newcastle, and no doubt want to carry off the king. Arrest them.”
+
+“Ah! my young man,” said D’Artagnan, drawing his sword, “that is an order sooner given than executed. Fly, friends, fly!” he added, whirling his sword around him.
+
+The next moment he darted to the door and knocked down two of the soldiers who guarded it, before they had time to cock their muskets. Athos and Aramis followed him. Porthos brought up the rear, and before soldiers, officers, or colonel had time to recover their surprise all four were in the street.
+
+“Fire!” cried Mordaunt; “fire upon them!”
+
+Three or four shots were fired, but with no other result than to show the four fugitives turning the corner of the street safe and sound.
+
+The horses were at the place fixed upon, and they leaped lightly into their saddles.
+
+“Forward!” cried D’Artagnan, “and spur for your dear lives!”
+
+They galloped away and took the road they had come by in the morning, namely, in the direction toward Scotland. A few hundred yards beyond the town D’Artagnan drew rein.
+
+“Halt!” he cried, “this time we shall be pursued. We must let them leave the village and ride after us on the northern road, and when they have passed we will take the opposite direction.”
+
+There was a stream close by and a bridge across it.
+
+D’Artagnan led his horse under the arch of the bridge. The others followed. Ten minutes later they heard the rapid gallop of a troop of horsemen. A few minutes more and the troop passed over their heads.
+
+Chapter LXII. London.
+
+As soon as the noise of the hoofs was lost in the distance D’Artagnan remounted the bank of the stream and scoured the plain, followed by his three friends, directing their course, as well as they could guess, toward London.
+
+“This time,” said D’Artagnan, when they were sufficiently distant to proceed at a trot, “I think all is lost and we have nothing better to do than to reach France. What do you say, Athos, to that proposition? Isn’t it reasonable?”
+
+“Yes, dear friend,” Athos replied, “but you said a word the other day that was more than reasonable — it was noble and generous. You said, ‘Let us die here!’ I recall to you that word.”
+
+“Oh,” said Porthos, “death is nothing: it isn’t death that can disquiet us, since we don’t know what it is. What troubles me is the idea of defeat. As things are turning out, I foresee that we must give battle to London, to the provinces, to all England, and certainly in the end we can’t fail to be beaten.”
+
+“We ought to witness this great tragedy even to its last scene,” said Athos. “Whatever happens, let us not leave England before the crisis. Don’t you agree with me, Aramis?”
+
+“Entirely, my dear count. Then, too, I confess I should not be sorry to come across Mordaunt again. It appears to me that we have an account to settle with him, and that it is not our custom to leave a place without paying our debts, of this kind, at least.”
+
+“Ah! that’s another thing,” said D’Artagnan, “and I should not mind waiting in London a whole year for a chance of meeting this Mordaunt in question. Only let us lodge with some one on whom we can count; for I imagine, just now, that Noll Cromwell would not be inclined to trifle with us. Athos, do you know any inn in the whole town where one can find white sheets, roast beef reasonably cooked, and wine which is not made of hops and gin?”
+
+“I think I know what you want,” replied Athos. “De Winter took us to the house of a Spaniard, who, he said, had become naturalized as an Englishman by the guineas of his new compatriots. What do you say to it, Aramis?”
+
+“Why, the idea of taking quarters with Senor Perez seems to me very reasonable, and for my part I agree to it. We will invoke the remembrance of that poor De Winter, for whom he seemed to have a great regard; we will tell him that we have come as amateurs to see what is going on; we will spend with him a guinea each per day; and I think that by taking all these precautions we can be quite undisturbed.”
+
+“You forget, Aramis, one precaution of considerable importance.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“The precaution of changing our clothes.”
+
+“Changing our clothes!” exclaimed Porthos. “I don’t see why; we are very comfortable in those we wear.”
+
+“To prevent recognition,” said D’Artagnan. “Our clothes have a cut which would proclaim the Frenchman at first sight. Now, I don’t set sufficient store on the cut of my jerkin to risk being hung at Tyburn or sent for change of scene to the Indies. I shall buy a chestnut-colored suit. I’ve remarked that your Puritans revel in that color.”
+
+“But can you find your man?” said Aramis to Athos.
+
+“Oh! to be sure, yes. He lives at the Bedford Tavern, Greenhall Street. Besides, I can find my way about the city with my eyes shut.”
+
+“I wish we were already there,” said D’Artagnan; “and my advice is that we reach London before daybreak, even if we kill our horses.”
+
+“Come on, then,” said Athos, “for unless I am mistaken in my calculations we have only eight or ten leagues to go.”
+
+The friends urged on their horses and arrived, in fact, at about five o’clock in the morning. They were stopped and questioned at the gate by which they sought to enter the city, but Athos replied, in excellent English, that they had been sent forward by Colonel Harrison to announce to his colleague, Monsieur Bridge, the approach of the king. That reply led to several questions about the king’s capture, and Athos gave details so precise and positive that if the gatekeepers had any suspicions they vanished completely. The way was therefore opened to the four friends with all sorts of Puritan congratulations.
+
+Athos was right. He went direct to the Bedford Tavern, and the host, who recognized him, was delighted to see him again with such a numerous and promising company.
+
+Though it was scarcely daylight our four travelers found the town in a great bustle, owing to the reported approach of Harrison and the king.
+
+The plan of changing their clothes was unanimously adopted. The landlord sent out for every description of garment, as if he wanted to fit up his wardrobe. Athos chose a black coat, which gave him the appearance of a respectable citizen. Aramis, not wishing to part with his sword, selected a dark-blue cloak of a military cut. Porthos was seduced by a wine-colored doublet and sea-green breeches. D’Artagnan, who had fixed on his color beforehand, had only to select the shade, and looked in his chestnut suit exactly like a retired sugar dealer.
+
+“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “for the actual man. We must cut off our hair, that the populace may not insult us. As we no longer wear the sword of the gentleman we may as well have the head of the Puritan. This, as you know, is the important point of distinction between the Covenanter and the Cavalier.”
+
+After some discussion this was agreed to and Mousqueton played the role of barber.
+
+“We look hideous,” said Athos.
+
+“And smack of the Puritan to a frightful extent,” said Aramis.
+
+“My head feels actually cold,” said Porthos.
+
+“As for me, I feel anxious to preach a sermon,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Now,” said Athos, “that we cannot even recognize one another and have therefore no fear of others recognizing us, let us go and see the king’s entrance.”
+
+They had not been long in the crowd before loud cries announced the king’s arrival. A carriage had been sent to meet him, and the gigantic Porthos, who stood a head above the entire rabble, soon announced that he saw the royal equipage approaching. D’Artagnan raised himself on tiptoe, and as the carriage passed, saw Harrison at one window and Mordaunt at the other.
+
+The next day, Athos, leaning out of his window, which looked upon the most populous part of the city, heard the Act of Parliament, which summoned the ex-king, Charles I., to the bar, publicly cried.
+
+“Parliament indeed!” cried Athos. “Parliament can never have passed such an act as that.”
+
+At this moment the landlord came in.
+
+“Did parliament pass this act?” Athos asked of him in English.
+
+“Yes, my lord, the pure parliament.”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘the pure parliament’? Are there, then, two parliaments?”
+
+“My friend,” D’Artagnan interrupted, “as I don’t understand English and we all understand Spanish, have the kindness to speak to us in that language, which, since it is your own, you must find pleasure in using when you have the chance.”
+
+“Ah! excellent!” said Aramis.
+
+As to Porthos, all his attention was concentrated on the allurements of the breakfast table.
+
+“You were asking, then?” said the host in Spanish.
+
+“I asked,” said Athos, in the same language, “if there are two parliaments, a pure and an impure?”
+
+“Why, how extraordinary!” said Porthos, slowly raising his head and looking at his friends with an air of astonishment, “I understand English, then! I understand what you say!”
+
+“That is because we are talking Spanish, my dear friend,” said Athos.
+
+“Oh, the devil!” said Porthos, “I am sorry for that; it would have been one language more.”
+
+“When I speak of the pure parliament,” resumed the host, “I mean the one which Colonel Bridge has weeded.”
+
+“Ah! really,” said D’Artagnan, “these people are very ingenious. When I go back to France I must suggest some such convenient course to Cardinal Mazarin and the coadjutor. One of them will weed the parliament in the name of the court, and the other in the name of the people; and then there won’t be any parliament at all.”
+
+“And who is this Colonel Bridge?” asked Aramis, “and how does he go to work to weed the parliament?”
+
+“Colonel Bridge,” replied the Spaniard, “is a retired wagoner, a man of much sense, who made one valuable observation whilst driving his team, namely, that where there happened to be a stone on the road, it was much easier to remove the stone than try and make the wheel pass over it. Now, of two hundred and fifty-one members who composed the parliament, there were one hundred and ninety-one who were in the way and might have upset his political wagon. He took them up, just as he formerly used to take up the stones from the road, and threw them out of the house.”
+
+“Neat,” remarked D’Artagnan. “Very!”
+
+“And all these one hundred and ninety-one were Royalists?” asked Athos.
+
+“Without doubt, senor; and you understand that they would have saved the king.”
+
+“To be sure,” said Porthos, with majestic common sense; “they were in the majority.”
+
+“And you think,” said Aramis, “he will consent to appear before such a tribunal?”
+
+“He will be forced to do so,” smiled the Spaniard.
+
+“Now, Athos!” said D’Artagnan, “do you begin to believe that it’s a ruined cause, and that what with your Harrisons, Joyces, Bridges and Cromwells, we shall never get the upper hand?”
+
+“The king will be delivered at the tribunal,” said Athos; “the very silence of his supporters indicates that they are at work.”
+
+D’Artagnan shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“But,” said Aramis, “if they dare to condemn their king, it can only be to exile or imprisonment.”
+
+D’Artagnan whistled a little air of incredulity.
+
+“We shall see,” said Athos, “for we shall go to the sittings, I presume.”
+
+“You will not have long to wait,” said the landlord; “they begin to-morrow.”
+
+“So, then, they drew up the indictments before the king was taken?”
+
+“Of course,” said D’Artagnan; “they began the day he was sold.”
+
+“And you know,” said Aramis, “that it was our friend Mordaunt who made, if not the bargain, at least the overtures.”
+
+“And you know,” added D’Artagnan, “that whenever I catch him I will kill him, this Mordaunt.”
+
+“And I, too,” exclaimed Porthos.
+
+“And I, too,” added Aramis.
+
+“Touching unanimity!” cried D’Artagnan, “which well becomes good citizens like us. Let us take a turn around the town and imbibe a little fog.”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “’twill be at least a little change from beer.”
+
+Chapter LXIII. The Trial.
+
+The next morning King Charles I. was haled by a strong guard before the high court which was to judge him. All London was crowding to the doors of the house. The throng was terrific, and it was not till after much pushing and some fighting that our friends reached their destination. When they did so they found the three lower rows of benches already occupied; but being anxious not to be too conspicuous, all, with the exception of Porthos, who had a fancy to display his red doublet, were quite satisfied with their places, the more so as chance had brought them to the centre of their row, so that they were exactly opposite the arm-chair prepared for the royal prisoner.
+
+Toward eleven o’clock the king entered the hall, surrounded by guards, but wearing his head covered, and with a calm expression turned to every side with a look of complete assurance, as if he were there to preside at an assembly of submissive subjects, rather than to meet the accusations of a rebel court.
+
+The judges, proud of having a monarch to humiliate, evidently prepared to enjoy the right they had arrogated to themselves, and sent an officer to inform the king that it was customary for the accused to uncover his head.
+
+Charles, without replying a single word, turned his head in another direction and pulled his felt hat over it. Then when the officer was gone he sat down in the arm-chair opposite the president and struck his boots with a little cane which he carried in his hand. Parry, who accompanied him, stood behind him.
+
+D’Artagnan was looking at Athos, whose face betrayed all those emotions which the king, possessing more self-control, had banished from his own. This agitation in one so cold and calm as Athos, frightened him.
+
+“I hope,” he whispered to him, “that you will follow his majesty’s example and not get killed for your folly in this den.”
+
+“Set your mind at rest,” replied Athos.
+
+“Aha!” continued D’Artagnan, “it is clear that they are afraid of something or other; for look, the sentinels are being reinforced. They had only halberds before, now they have muskets. The halberds were for the audience in the rear; the muskets are for us.”
+
+“Thirty, forty, fifty, sixty-five men,” said Porthos, counting the reinforcements.
+
+“Ah!” said Aramis, “but you forget the officer.”
+
+D’Artagnan grew pale with rage. He recognized Mordaunt, who with bare sword was marshalling the musketeers behind the king and opposite the benches.
+
+“Do you think they have recognized us?” said D’Artagnan. “In that case I should beat a retreat. I don’t care to be shot in a box.”
+
+“No,” said Aramis, “he has not seen us. He sees no one but the king. Mon Dieu! how he stares at him, the insolent dog! Does he hate his majesty as much as he does us?”
+
+“Pardi,” answered Athos “we only carried off his mother; the king has spoiled him of his name and property.”
+
+“True,” said Aramis; “but silence! the president is speaking to the king.”
+
+“Stuart,” Bradshaw was saying, “listen to the roll call of your judges and address to the court any observations you may have to make.”
+
+The king turned his head away, as if these words had not been intended for him. Bradshaw waited, and as there was no reply there was a moment of silence.
+
+Out of the hundred and sixty-three members designated there were only seventy-three present, for the rest, fearful of taking part in such an act, had remained away.
+
+When the name of Colonel Fairfax was called, one of those brief but solemn silences ensued, which announced the absence of the members who had no wish to take a personal part in the trial.
+
+“Colonel Fairfax,” repeated Bradshaw.
+
+“Fairfax,” answered a laughing voice, the silvery tone of which betrayed it as that of a woman, “is not such a fool as to be here.”
+
+A loud laugh followed these words, pronounced with that boldness which women draw from their own weakness — a weakness which removes them beyond the power of vengeance.
+
+“It is a woman’s voice,” cried Aramis; “faith, I would give a good deal if she is young and pretty.” And he mounted on the bench to try and get a sight of her.
+
+“By my soul,” said Aramis, “she is charming. Look D’Artagnan; everybody is looking at her; and in spite of Bradshaw’s gaze she has not turned pale.”
+
+“It is Lady Fairfax herself,” said D’Artagnan. “Don’t you remember, Porthos, we saw her at General Cromwell’s?”
+
+The roll call continued.
+
+“These rascals will adjourn when they find that they are not in sufficient force,” said the Comte de la Fere.
+
+“You don’t know them. Athos, look at Mordaunt’s smile. Is that the look of a man whose victim is likely to escape him? Ah, cursed basilisk, it will be a happy day for me when I can cross something more than a look with you.”
+
+“The king is really very handsome,” said Porthos; “and look, too, though he is a prisoner, how carefully he is dressed. The feather in his hat is worth at least five-and-twenty pistoles. Look at it, Aramis.”
+
+The roll call finished, the president ordered them to read the act of accusation. Athos turned pale. A second time he was disappointed in his expectation. Notwithstanding the judges were so few the trial was to continue; the king then, was condemned in advance.
+
+“I told you so, Athos,” said D’Artagnan, shrugging his shoulders. “Now take your courage in both hands and hear what this gentleman in black is going to say about his sovereign, with full license and privilege.”
+
+Never till then had a more brutal accusation or meaner insults tarnished kingly majesty.
+
+Charles listened with marked attention, passing over the insults, noting the grievances, and, when hatred overflowed all bounds and the accuser turned executioner beforehand, replying with a smile of lofty scorn.
+
+“The fact is,” said D’Artagnan, “if men are punished for imprudence and triviality, this poor king deserves punishment. But it seems to me that that which he is just now undergoing is hard enough.”
+
+“In any case,” Aramis replied, “the punishment should fall not on the king, but on his ministers; for the first article of the constitution is, ‘The king can do no wrong.’”
+
+“As for me,” thought Porthos, giving Mordaunt his whole attention, “were it not for breaking in on the majesty of the situation I would leap down from the bench, reach Mordaunt in three bounds and strangle him; I would then take him by the feet and knock the life out of these wretched musketeers who parody the musketeers of France. Meantime, D’Artagnan, who is full of invention, would find some way to save the king. I must speak to him about it.”
+
+As to Athos, his face aflame, his fists clinched, his lips bitten till they bled, he sat there foaming with rage at that endless parliamentary insult and that long enduring royal patience; the inflexible arm and steadfast heart had given place to a trembling hand and a body shaken by excitement.
+
+At this moment the accuser concluded with these words: “The present accusation is preferred by us in the name of the English people.”
+
+At these words there was a murmur along the benches, and a second voice, not that of a woman, but a man’s, stout and furious, thundered behind D’Artagnan.
+
+“You lie!” it cried. “Nine-tenths of the English people are horrified at what you say.”
+
+This voice was that of Athos, who, standing up with outstretched hand and quite out of his mind, thus assailed the public accuser.
+
+King, judges, spectators, all turned their eyes to the bench where the four friends were seated. Mordaunt did the same and recognized the gentleman, around whom the three other Frenchmen were standing, pale and menacing. His eyes glittered with delight. He had discovered those to whose death he had devoted his life. A movement of fury called to his side some twenty of his musketeers, and pointing to the bench where his enemies were: “Fire on that bench!” he cried.
+
+But with the rapidity of thought D’Artagnan seized Athos by the waist, and followed by Porthos with Aramis, leaped down from the benches, rushed into the passages, and flying down the staircase were lost in the crowd without, while the muskets within were pointed on some three thousand spectators, whose piteous cries and noisy alarm stopped the impulse already given to bloodshed.
+
+Charles also had recognized the four Frenchmen. He put one hand on his heart to still its beating and the other over his eyes, that he might not witness the slaying of his faithful friends.
+
+Mordaunt, pale and trembling with anger, rushed from the hall sword in hand, followed by six pikemen, pushing, inquiring and panting in the crowd; and then, having found nothing, returned.
+
+The tumult was indescribable. More than half an hour passed before any one could make himself heard. The judges were looking for a new outbreak from the benches. The spectators saw the muskets leveled at them, and divided between fear and curiosity, remained noisy and excited.
+
+Quiet was at length restored.
+
+“What have you to say in your defense?” asked Bradshaw of the king.
+
+Then rising, with his head still covered, in the tone of a judge rather than a prisoner, Charles began.
+
+“Before questioning me,” he said, “reply to my question. I was free at Newcastle and had there concluded a treaty with both houses. Instead of performing your part of this contract, as I performed mine, you bought me from the Scotch, cheaply, I know, and that does honor to the economic talent of your government. But because you have paid the price of a slave, do you imagine that I have ceased to be your king? No. To answer you would be to forget it. I shall only reply to you when you have satisfied me of your right to question me. To answer you would be to acknowledge you as my judges, and I only acknowledge you as my executioners.” And in the middle of a deathlike silence, Charles, calm, lofty, and with his head still covered, sat down again in his arm-chair.
+
+“Why are not my Frenchmen here?” he murmured proudly and turning his eyes to the benches where they had appeared for a moment; “they would have seen that their friend was worthy of their defense while alive, and of their tears when dead.”
+
+“Well,” said the president, seeing that Charles was determined to remain silent, “so be it. We will judge you in spite of your silence. You are accused of treason, of abuse of power, and murder. The evidence will support it. Go, and another sitting will accomplish what you have postponed in this.”
+
+Charles rose and turned toward Parry, whom he saw pale and with his temples dewed with moisture.
+
+“Well, my dear Parry,” said he, “what is the matter, and what can affect you in this manner?”
+
+“Oh, my king,” said Parry, with tears in his eyes and in a tone of supplication, “do not look to the left as we leave the hall.”
+
+“And why, Parry?”
+
+“Do not look, I implore you, my king.”
+
+“But what is the matter? Speak,” said Charles, attempting to look across the hedge of guards which surrounded him.
+
+“It is — but you will not look, will you? — it is because they have had the axe, with which criminals are executed, brought and placed there on the table. The sight is hideous.”
+
+“Fools,” said Charles, “do they take me for a coward, like themselves? You have done well to warn me. Thank you, Parry.”
+
+When the moment arrived the king followed his guards out of the hall. As he passed the table on which the axe was laid, he stopped, and turning with a smile, said:
+
+“Ah! the axe, an ingenious device, and well worthy of those who know not what a gentleman is; you frighten me not, executioner’s axe,” added he, touching it with the cane which he held in his hand, “and I strike you now, waiting patiently and Christianly for you to return the blow.”
+
+And shrugging his shoulders with unaffected contempt he passed on. When he reached the door a stream of people, who had been disappointed in not being able to get into the house and to make amends had collected to see him come out, stood on each side, as he passed, many among them glaring on him with threatening looks.
+
+“How many people,” thought he, “and not one true friend.”
+
+And as he uttered these words of doubt and depression within his mind, a voice beside him said:
+
+“Respect to fallen majesty.”
+
+The king turned quickly around, with tears in his eyes and heart. It was an old soldier of the guards who could not see his king pass captive before him without rendering him this final homage. But the next moment the unfortunate man was nearly killed with heavy blows of sword-hilts, and among those who set upon him the king recognized Captain Groslow.
+
+“Alas!” said Charles, “that is a severe chastisement for a very trifling fault.”
+
+He continued his walk, but he had scarcely gone a hundred paces, when a furious fellow, leaning between two soldiers, spat in the king’s face, as once an infamous and accursed Jew spit in the face of Jesus of Nazareth. Loud roars of laughter and sullen murmurs arose together. The crowd opened and closed again, undulating like a stormy sea, and the king imagined that he saw shining in the midst of this living wave the bright eyes of Athos.
+
+Charles wiped his face and said with a sad smile: “Poor wretch, for half a crown he would do as much to his own father.”
+
+The king was not mistaken. Athos and his friends, again mingling with the throng, were taking a last look at the martyr king.
+
+When the soldier saluted Charles, Athos’s heart bounded for joy; and that unfortunate, on coming to himself, found ten guineas that the French gentleman had slipped into his pocket. But when the cowardly insulter spat in the face of the captive monarch Athos grasped his dagger. But D’Artagnan stopped his hand and in a hoarse voice cried, “Wait!”
+
+Athos stopped. D’Artagnan, leaning on Athos, made a sign to Porthos and Aramis to keep near them and then placed himself behind the man with the bare arms, who was still laughing at his own vile pleasantry and receiving the congratulations of several others.
+
+The man took his way toward the city. The four friends followed him. The man, who had the appearance of being a butcher, descended a little steep and isolated street, looking on to the river, with two of his friends. Arrived at the bank of the river the three men perceived that they were followed, turned around, and looking insolently at the Frenchmen, passed some jests from one to another.
+
+“I don’t know English, Athos,” said D’Artagnan; “but you know it and will interpret for me.”
+
+Then quickening their steps they passed the three men, but turned back immediately, and D’Artagnan walked straight up to the butcher and touching him on the chest with the tip of his finger, said to Athos:
+
+“Say this to him in English: ‘You are a coward. You have insulted a defenseless man. You have befouled the face of your king. You must die.’”
+
+Athos, pale as a ghost, repeated these words to the man, who, seeing the bodeful preparations that were making, put himself in an attitude of defense. Aramis, at this movement, drew his sword.
+
+“No,” cried D’Artagnan, “no steel. Steel is for gentlemen.”
+
+And seizing the butcher by the throat:
+
+“Porthos,” said he, “kill this fellow for me with a single blow.”
+
+Porthos raised his terrible fist, which whistled through the air like a sling, and the portentous mass fell with a smothered crash on the insulter’s skull and crushed it. The man fell like an ox beneath the poleaxe. His companions, horror-struck, could neither move nor cry out.
+
+“Tell them this, Athos,” resumed D’Artagnan; “thus shall all die who forget that a captive man is sacred and that a captive king doubly represents the Lord.”
+
+Athos repeated D’Artagnan’s words.
+
+The fellows looked at the body of their companion, swimming in blood, and then recovering voice and legs together, ran screaming off.
+
+“Justice is done,” said Porthos, wiping his forehead.
+
+“And now,” said D’Artagnan to Athos, “entertain no further doubts about me; I undertake all that concerns the king.”
+
+Chapter LXIV. Whitehall.
+
+The parliament condemned Charles to death, as might have been foreseen. Political judgments are generally vain formalities, for the same passions which give rise to the accusation ordain to the condemnation. Such is the atrocious logic of revolutions.
+
+Although our friends were expecting that condemnation, it filled them with grief. D’Artagnan, whose mind was never more fertile in resources than in critical emergencies, swore again that he would try all conceivable means to prevent the dénouement of the bloody tragedy. But by what means? As yet he could form no definite plan; all must depend on circumstances. Meanwhile, it was necessary at all hazards, in order to gain time, to put some obstacle in the way of the execution on the following day — the day appointed by the judges. The only way of doing that was to cause the disappearance of the London executioner. The headsman out of the way, the sentence could not be executed. True, they could send for the headsman of the nearest town, but at least a day would be gained, and a day might be sufficient for the rescue. D’Artagnan took upon himself that more than difficult task.
+
+Another thing, not less essential, was to warn Charles Stuart of the attempt to be made, so that he might assist his rescuers as much as possible, or at least do nothing to thwart their efforts. Aramis assumed that perilous charge. Charles Stuart had asked that Bishop Juxon might be permitted to visit him. Mordaunt had called on the bishop that very evening to apprise him of the religious desire expressed by the king and also of Cromwell’s permission. Aramis determined to obtain from the bishop, through fear or by persuasion, consent that he should enter in the bishop’s place, and clad in his sacerdotal robes, the prison at Whitehall.
+
+Finally, Athos undertook to provide, in any event, the means of leaving England — in case either of failure or of success.
+
+The night having come they made an appointment to meet at eleven o’clock at the hotel, and each started out to fulfill his dangerous mission.
+
+The palace of Whitehall was guarded by three regiments of cavalry and by the fierce anxiety of Cromwell, who came and went or sent his generals or his agents continually. Alone in his usual room, lighted by two candles, the condemned monarch gazed sadly on the luxury of his past greatness, just as at the last hour one sees the images of life more mildly brilliant than of yore.
+
+Parry had not quitted his master, and since his condemnation had not ceased to weep. Charles, leaning on a table, was gazing at a medallion of his wife and daughter; he was waiting first for Juxon, then for martyrdom.
+
+At times he thought of those brave French gentlemen who had appeared to him from a distance of a hundred leagues fabulous and unreal, like the forms that appear in dreams. In fact, he sometimes asked himself if all that was happening to him was not a dream, or at least the delirium of a fever. He rose and took a few steps as if to rouse himself from his torpor and went as far as the window; he saw glittering below him the muskets of the guards. He was thereupon constrained to admit that he was indeed awake and that his bloody dream was real.
+
+Charles returned in silence to his chair, rested his elbow on the table, bowed his head upon his hand and reflected.
+
+“Alas!” he said to himself, “if I only had for a confessor one of those lights of the church, whose soul has sounded all the mysteries of life, all the littlenesses of greatness, perhaps his utterance would overawe the voice that wails within my soul. But I shall have a priest of vulgar mind, whose career and fortune I have ruined by my misfortune. He will speak to me of God and death, as he has spoken to many another dying man, not understanding that this one leaves his throne to an usurper, his children to the cold contempt of public charity.”
+
+And he raised the medallion to his lips.
+
+It was a dull, foggy night. A neighboring church clock slowly struck the hour. The flickering light of the two candles showed fitful phantom shadows in the lofty room. These were the ancestors of Charles, standing back dimly in their tarnished frames.
+
+An awful sadness enveloped the heart of Charles. He buried his brow in his hands and thought of the world, so beautiful when one is about to leave it; of the caresses of children, so pleasing and so sweet, especially when one is parting from his children never to see them again; then of his wife, the noble and courageous woman who had sustained him to the last moment. He drew from his breast the diamond cross and the star of the Garter which she had sent him by those generous Frenchmen; he kissed it, and then, as he reflected, that she would never again see those things till he lay cold and mutilated in the tomb, there passed over him one of those icy shivers which may be called forerunners of death.
+
+Then, in that chamber which recalled to him so many royal souvenirs, whither had come so many courtiers, the scene of so much flattering homage, alone with a despairing servant, whose feeble soul could afford no support to his own, the king at last yielded to sorrow, and his courage sank to a level with that feebleness, those shadows, and that wintry cold. That king, who was so grand, so sublime in the hour of death, meeting his fate with a smile of resignation on his lips, now in that gloomy hour wiped away a tear which had fallen on the table and quivered on the gold embroidered cloth.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, an ecclesiastic in episcopal robes entered, followed by two guards, to whom the king waved an imperious gesture. The guards retired; the room resumed its obscurity.
+
+“Juxon!” cried Charles, “Juxon, thank you, my last friend; you come at a fitting moment.”
+
+The bishop looked anxiously at the man sobbing in the ingle-nook.
+
+“Come, Parry,” said the king, “cease your tears.”
+
+“If it’s Parry,” said the bishop, “I have nothing to fear; so allow me to salute your majesty and to tell you who I am and for what I am come.”
+
+At this sight and this voice Charles was about to cry out, when Aramis placed his finger on his lips and bowed low to the king of England.
+
+“The chevalier!” murmured Charles.
+
+“Yes, sire,” interrupted Aramis, raising his voice, “Bishop Juxon, the faithful knight of Christ, obedient to your majesty’s wishes.”
+
+Charles clasped his hands, amazed and stupefied to find that these foreigners, without other motive than that which their conscience imposed on them, thus combated the will of a people and the destiny of a king.
+
+“You!” he said, “you! how did you penetrate hither? If they recognize you, you are lost.”
+
+“Care not for me, sire; think only of yourself. You see, your friends are wakeful. I know not what we shall do yet, but four determined men can do much. Meanwhile, do not be surprised at anything that happens; prepare yourself for every emergency.”
+
+Charles shook his head.
+
+“Do you know that I die to-morrow at ten o’clock?”
+
+“Something, your majesty, will happen between now and then to make the execution impossible.”
+
+The king looked at Aramis with astonishment.
+
+At this moment a strange noise, like the unloading of a cart, and followed by a cry of pain, was heard beneath the window.
+
+“Do you hear?” said the king.
+
+“I hear,” said Aramis, “but I understand neither the noise nor the cry of pain.”
+
+“I know not who can have uttered the cry,” said the king, “but the noise is easily understood. Do you know that I am to be beheaded outside this window? Well, these boards you hear unloaded are the posts and planks to build my scaffold. Some workmen must have fallen underneath them and been hurt.”
+
+Aramis shuddered in spite of himself.
+
+“You see,” said the king, “that it is useless for you to resist. I am condemned; leave me to my death.”
+
+“My king,” said Aramis, “they well may raise a scaffold, but they cannot make an executioner.”
+
+“What do you mean?” asked the king.
+
+“I mean that at this hour the headsman has been got out of the way by force or persuasion. The scaffold will be ready by to-morrow, but the headsman will be wanting and they will put it off till the day after to-morrow.”
+
+“What then?” said the king.
+
+“To-morrow night we shall rescue you.”
+
+“How can that be?” cried the king, whose face was lighted up, in spite of himself, by a flash of joy.
+
+“Oh! sir,” cried Parry, “may you and yours be blessed!”
+
+“How can it be?” repeated the king. “I must know, so that I may assist you if there is any chance.”
+
+“I know nothing about it,” continued Aramis, “but the cleverest, the bravest, the most devoted of us four said to me when I left him, ‘Tell the king that to-morrow at ten o’clock at night, we shall carry him off.’ He has said it and will do it.”
+
+“Tell me the name of that generous friend,” said the king, “that I may cherish for him an eternal gratitude, whether he succeeds or not.”
+
+“D’Artagnan, sire, the same who had so nearly rescued you when Colonel Harrison made his untimely entrance.”
+
+“You are, indeed, wonderful men,” said the king; “if such things had been related to me I should not have believed them.”
+
+“Now, sire,” resumed Aramis, “listen to me. Do not forget for a single instant that we are watching over your safety; observe the smallest gesture, the least bit of song, the least sign from any one near you; watch everything, hear everything, interpret everything.”
+
+“Oh, chevalier!” cried the king, “what can I say to you? There is no word, though it should come from the profoundest depth of my heart, that can express my gratitude. If you succeed I do not say that you will save a king; no, in presence of the scaffold as I am, royalty, I assure you, is a very small affair; but you will save a husband to his wife, a father to his children. Chevalier, take my hand; it is that of a friend who will love you to his last sigh.”
+
+Aramis stooped to kiss the king’s hand, but Charles clasped his and pressed it to his heart.
+
+At this moment a man entered, without even knocking at the door. Aramis tried to withdraw his hand, but the king still held it. The man was one of those Puritans, half preacher and half soldier, who swarmed around Cromwell.
+
+“What do you want, sir?” said the king.
+
+“I desire to know if the confession of Charles Stuart is at an end?” said the stranger.
+
+“And what is it to you?” replied the king; “we are not of the same religion.”
+
+“All men are brothers,” said the Puritan. “One of my brothers is about to die and I come to prepare him.”
+
+“Bear with him,” whispered Aramis; “it is doubtless some spy.”
+
+“After my reverend lord bishop,” said the king to the man, “I shall hear you with pleasure, sir.”
+
+The man retired, but not before examining the supposed Juxon with an attention which did not escape the king.
+
+“Chevalier,” said the king, when the door was closed, “I believe you are right and that this man only came here with evil intentions. Take care that no misfortune befalls you when you leave.”
+
+“I thank your majesty,” said Aramis, “but under these robes I have a coat of mail, a pistol and a dagger.”
+
+“Go, then, sir, and God keep you!”
+
+The king accompanied him to the door, where Aramis pronounced his benediction upon him, and passing through the ante-rooms, filled with soldiers, jumped into his carriage and drove to the bishop’s palace. Juxon was waiting for him impatiently.
+
+“Well?” said he, on perceiving Aramis.
+
+“Everything has succeeded as I expected; spies, guards, satellites, all took me for you, and the king blesses you while waiting for you to bless him.”
+
+“May God protect you, my son; for your example has given me at the same time hope and courage.”
+
+Aramis resumed his own attire and left Juxon with the assurance that he might again have recourse to him.
+
+He had scarcely gone ten yards in the street when he perceived that he was followed by a man, wrapped in a large cloak. He placed his hand on his dagger and stopped. The man came straight toward him. It was Porthos.
+
+“My dear friend,” cried Aramis.
+
+“You see, we had each our mission,” said Porthos; “mine was to guard you and I am doing so. Have you seen the king?”
+
+“Yes, and all goes well.”
+
+“We are to meet our friends at the hotel at eleven.”
+
+It was then striking half-past ten by St. Paul’s.
+
+Arrived at the hotel it was not long before Athos entered.
+
+“All’s well,” he cried, as he entered; “I have hired a cedar wherry, as light as a canoe, as easy on the wing as any swallow. It is waiting for us at Greenwich, opposite the Isle of Dogs, manned by a captain and four men, who for the sum of fifty pounds sterling will keep themselves at our disposition three successive nights. Once on board we drop down the Thames and in two hours are on the open sea. In case I am killed, the captain’s name is Roger and the skiff is called the Lightning. A handkerchief, tied at the four corners, is to be the signal.”
+
+Next moment D’Artagnan entered.
+
+“Empty your pockets,” said he; “I want a hundred pounds, and as for my own — — ” and he emptied them inside out.
+
+The sum was collected in a minute. D’Artagnan ran out and returned directly after.
+
+“There,” said he, “it’s done. Ough! and not without a deal of trouble, too.”
+
+“Has the executioner left London?” asked Athos.
+
+“Ah, you see that plan was not sure enough; he might go out by one gate and return by another.”
+
+“Where is he, then?”
+
+“In the cellar.”
+
+“The cellar — what cellar?”
+
+“Our landlord’s, to be sure. Mousqueton is propped against the door and here’s the key.”
+
+“Bravo!” said Aramis, “how did you manage it?”
+
+“Like everything else, with money; but it cost me dear.”
+
+“How much?” asked Athos.
+
+“Five hundred pounds.”
+
+“And where did you get so much money?” said Athos. “Had you, then, that sum?”
+
+“The queen’s famous diamond,” answered D’Artagnan, with a sigh.
+
+“Ah, true,” said Aramis. “I recognized it on your finger.”
+
+“You bought it back, then, from Monsieur des Essarts?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Yes, but it was fated that I should not keep it.”
+
+“So, then, we are all right as regards the executioner,” said Athos; “but unfortunately every executioner has his assistant, his man, or whatever you call him.”
+
+“And this one had his,” said D’Artagnan; “but, as good luck would have it, just as I thought I should have two affairs to manage, our friend was brought home with a broken leg. In the excess of his zeal he had accompanied the cart containing the scaffolding as far as the king’s window, and one of the crossbeams fell on his leg and broke it.”
+
+“Ah!” cried Aramis, “that accounts for the cry I heard.”
+
+“Probably,” said D’Artagnan, “but as he is a thoughtful young man he promised to send four expert workmen in his place to help those already at the scaffold, and wrote the moment he was brought home to Master Tom Lowe, an assistant carpenter and friend of his, to go down to Whitehall, with three of his friends. Here’s the letter he sent by a messenger, for sixpence, who sold it to me for a guinea.”
+
+“And what on earth are you going to do with it?” asked Athos.
+
+“Can’t you guess, my dear Athos? You, who speak English like John Bull himself, are Master Tom Lowe, we, your three companions. Do you understand it now?”
+
+Athos uttered a cry of joy and admiration, ran to a closet and drew forth workmen’s clothes, which the four friends immediately put on; they then left the hotel, Athos carrying a saw, Porthos a vise, Aramis an axe and D’Artagnan a hammer and some nails.
+
+The letter from the executioner’s assistant satisfied the master carpenter that those were the men he expected.
+
+Chapter LXV. The Workmen.
+
+Toward midnight Charles heard a great noise beneath his window. It arose from blows of hammer and hatchet, clinking of pincers and cranching of saws.
+
+Lying dressed upon his bed, the noise awoke him with a start and found a gloomy echo in his heart. He could not endure it, and sent Parry to ask the sentinel to beg the workmen to strike more gently and not disturb the last slumber of one who had been their king. The sentinel was unwilling to leave his post, but allowed Parry to pass.
+
+Arriving at the window Parry found an unfinished scaffold, over which they were nailing a covering of black serge. Raised to the height of twenty feet, so as to be on a level with the window, it had two lower stories. Parry, odious as was this sight to him, sought for those among some eight or ten workmen who were making the most noise; and fixed on two men, who were loosening the last hooks of the iron balcony.
+
+“My friends,” said Parry, mounting the scaffold and standing beside them, “would you work a little more quietly? The king wishes to get a sleep.”
+
+One of the two, who was standing up, was of gigantic size and was driving a pick with all his might into the wall, whilst the other, kneeling beside him, was collecting the pieces of stone. The face of the first was lost to Parry in the darkness; but as the second turned around and placed his finger on his lips Parry started back in amazement.
+
+“Very well, very well,” said the workman aloud, in excellent English. “Tell the king that if he sleeps badly to-night he will sleep better to-morrow night.”
+
+These blunt words, so terrible if taken literally, were received by the other workmen with a roar of laughter. But Parry withdrew, thinking he was dreaming.
+
+Charles was impatiently awaiting his return. At the moment he re-entered, the sentinel who guarded the door put his head through the opening, curious as to what the king was doing. The king was lying on his bed, resting on his elbow. Parry closed the door and approaching the king, his face radiant with joy:
+
+“Sire,” he said, in a low voice, “do you know who these workmen are who are making so much noise?”
+
+“I? No; how would you have me know?”
+
+Parry bent his head and whispered to the king: “It is the Comte de la Fere and his friends.”
+
+“Raising my scaffold!” cried the king, astounded.
+
+“Yes, and at the same time making a hole in the wall.”
+
+The king clasped his hands and raised his eyes to Heaven; then leaping down from his bed he went to the window, and pulling aside the curtain tried to distinguish the figures outside, but in vain.
+
+Parry was not wrong. It was Athos he had recognized, and Porthos who was boring a hole through the wall.
+
+This hole communicated with a kind of loft — the space between the floor of the king’s room and the ceiling of the one below it. Their plan was to pass through the hole they were making into this loft and cut out from below a piece of the flooring of the king’s room, so as to form a kind of trap-door.
+
+Through this the king was to escape the next night, and, hidden by the black covering of the scaffold, was to change his dress for that of a workman, slip out with his deliverers, pass the sentinels, who would suspect nothing, and so reach the skiff that was waiting for him at Greenwich.
+
+Day gilded the tops of the houses. The aperture was finished and Athos passed through it, carrying the clothes destined for the king wrapped in black cloth, and the tools with which he was to open a communication with the king’s room. He had only two hours’ work to do to open communication with the king and, according to the calculations of the four friends, they had the entire day before them, since, the executioner being absent, another must be sent for to Bristol.
+
+D’Artagnan returned to change his workman’s clothes for his chestnut-colored suit, and Porthos to put on his red doublet. As for Aramis, he went off to the bishop’s palace to see if he could possibly pass in with Juxon to the king’s presence. All three agreed to meet at noon in Whitehall Place to see how things went on.
+
+Before leaving the scaffold Aramis had approached the opening where Athos was concealed to tell him that he was about to make an attempt to gain another interview with the king.
+
+“Adieu, then, and be of good courage,” said Athos. “Report to the king the condition of affairs. Say to him that when he is alone it will help us if he will knock on the floor, for then I can continue my work in safety. Try, Aramis, to keep near the king. Speak loud, very loud, for they will be listening at the door. If there is a sentinel within the apartment, kill him without hesitation. If there are two, let Parry kill one and you the other. If there are three, let yourself be slain, but save the king.”
+
+“Be easy,” said Aramis; “I will take two poniards and give one to Parry. Is that all?”
+
+“Yes, go; but urge the king strongly not to stand on false generosity. While you are fighting if there is a fight, he must flee. The trap once replaced over his head, you being on the trap, dead or alive, they will need at least ten minutes to find the hole by which he has escaped. In those ten minutes we shall have gained the road and the king will be saved.”
+
+“Everything shall be done as you say, Athos. Your hand, for perhaps we shall not see each other again.”
+
+Athos put his arm around Aramis’s neck and embraced him.
+
+“For you,” he said. “Now if I die, say to D’Artagnan that I love him as a son, and embrace him for me. Embrace also our good and brave Porthos. Adieu.”
+
+“Adieu,” said Aramis. “I am as sure now that the king will be saved as I am sure that I clasp the most loyal hand in the world.”
+
+Aramis parted from Athos, went down from the scaffold in his turn and took his way to the hotel, whistling the air of a song in praise of Cromwell. He found the other two friends sitting at table before a good fire, drinking a bottle of port and devouring a cold chicken. Porthos was cursing the infamous parliamentarians; D’Artagnan ate in silence, revolving in his mind the most audacious plans.
+
+Aramis related what had been agreed upon. D’Artagnan approved with a movement of the head and Porthos with his voice.
+
+“Bravo!” he said; “besides, we shall be there at the time of the flight. What with D’Artagnan, Grimaud and Mousqueton, we can manage to dispatch eight of them. I say nothing about Blaisois, for he is only fit to hold the horses. Two minutes a man makes four minutes. Mousqueton will lose another, that’s five; and in five minutes we shall have galloped a quarter of a league.”
+
+Aramis swallowed a hasty mouthful, gulped a glass of wine and changed his clothes.
+
+“Now,” said he, “I’m off to the bishop’s. Take care of the executioner, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“All right. Grimaud has relieved Mousqueton and has his foot on the cellar door.”
+
+“Well, don’t be inactive.”
+
+“Inactive, my dear fellow! Ask Porthos. I pass my life upon my legs.”
+
+Aramis again presented himself at the bishop’s. Juxon consented the more readily to take him with him, as he would require an assistant priest in case the king should wish to communicate. Dressed as Aramis had been the night before, the bishop got into his carriage, and the former, more disguised by his pallor and sad countenance than his deacon’s dress, got in by his side. The carriage stopped at the door of the palace.
+
+It was about nine o’clock in the morning.
+
+Nothing was changed. The ante-rooms were still full of soldiers, the passages still lined by guards. The king was already sanguine, but when he perceived Aramis his hope turned to joy. He embraced Juxon and pressed the hand of Aramis. The bishop affected to speak in a loud voice, before every one, of their previous interview. The king replied that the words spoken in that interview had borne their fruit, and that he desired another under the same conditions. Juxon turned to those present and begged them to leave him and his assistant alone with the king. Every one withdrew. As soon as the door was closed:
+
+“Sire,” said Aramis, speaking rapidly, “you are saved; the London executioner has vanished. His assistant broke his leg last night beneath your majesty’s window — the cry we heard was his — and there is no executioner nearer at hand than Bristol.”
+
+“But the Comte de la Fere?” asked the king.
+
+“Two feet below you; take the poker from the fireplace and strike three times on the floor. He will answer you.”
+
+The king did so, and the moment after, three muffled knocks, answering the given signal, sounded beneath the floor.
+
+“So,” said Charles, “he who knocks down there — — ”
+
+“Is the Comte de la Fere, sire,” said Aramis. “He is preparing a way for your majesty to escape. Parry, for his part, will raise this slab of marble and a passage will be opened.”
+
+“Oh, Juxon,” said the king, seizing the bishop’s two hands in his own, “promise that you will pray all your life for this gentleman and for the other that you hear beneath your feet, and for two others also, who, wherever they may be, are on the watch for my safety.”
+
+“Sire,” replied Juxon, “you shall be obeyed.”
+
+Meanwhile, the miner underneath was heard working away incessantly, when suddenly an unexpected noise resounded in the passage. Aramis seized the poker and gave the signal to stop; the noise came nearer and nearer. It was that of a number of men steadily approaching. The four men stood motionless. All eyes were fixed on the door, which opened slowly and with a kind of solemnity.
+
+A parliamentary officer, clothed in black and with a gravity that augured ill, entered, bowed to the king, and unfolding a parchment, read the sentence, as is usually done to criminals before their execution.
+
+“What is this?” said Aramis to Juxon.
+
+Juxon replied with a sign which meant that he knew no more than Aramis about it.
+
+“Then it is for to-day?” asked the king.
+
+“Was not your majesty warned that it was to take place this morning?”
+
+“Then I must die like a common criminal by the hand of the London executioner?”
+
+“The London executioner has disappeared, your majesty, but a man has offered his services instead. The execution will therefore only be delayed long enough for you to arrange your spiritual and temporal affairs.”
+
+A slight moisture on his brow was the only trace of emotion that Charles evinced, as he learned these tidings. But Aramis was livid. His heart ceased beating, he closed his eyes and leaned upon the table. Charles perceived it and took his hand.
+
+“Come, my friend,” said he, “courage.” Then he turned to the officer. “Sir, I am ready. There is but little reason why I should delay you. Firstly, I wish to communicate; secondly, to embrace my children and bid them farewell for the last time. Will this be permitted me?”
+
+“Certainly,” replied the officer, and left the room.
+
+Aramis dug his nails into his flesh and groaned aloud.
+
+“Oh! my lord bishop,” he cried, seizing Juxon’s hands, “where is Providence? where is Providence?”
+
+“My son,” replied the bishop, with firmness, “you see Him not, because the passions of the world conceal Him.”
+
+“My son,” said the king to Aramis, “do not take it so to heart. You ask what God is doing. God beholds your devotion and my martyrdom, and believe me, both will have their reward. Ascribe to men, then, what is happening, and not to God. It is men who drive me to death; it is men who make you weep.”
+
+“Yes, sire,” said Aramis, “yes, you are right. It is men whom I should hold responsible, and I will hold them responsible.”
+
+“Be seated, Juxon,” said the king, falling upon his knees. “I have now to confess to you. Remain, sir,” he added to Aramis, who had moved to leave the room. “Remain, Parry. I have nothing to say that cannot be said before all.”
+
+Juxon sat down, and the king, kneeling humbly before him, began his confession.
+
+Chapter LXVI. Remember!
+
+The mob had already assembled when the confession terminated. The king’s children next arrived — the Princess Charlotte, a beautiful, fair-haired child, with tears in her eyes, and the Duke of Gloucester, a boy eight or nine years old, whose tearless eyes and curling lip revealed a growing pride. He had wept all night long, but would not show his grief before the people.
+
+Charles’s heart melted within him at the sight of those two children, whom he had not seen for two years and whom he now met at the moment of death. He turned to brush away a tear, and then, summoning up all his firmness, drew his daughter toward him, recommending her to be pious and resigned. Then he took the boy upon his knee.
+
+“My son,” he said to him, “you saw a great number of people in the streets as you came here. These men are going to behead your father. Do not forget that. Perhaps some day they will want to make you king, instead of the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of York, your elder brothers. But you are not the king, my son, and can never be so while they are alive. Swear to me, then, never to let them put a crown upon your head unless you have a legal right to the crown. For one day — listen, my son — one day, if you do so, they will doom you to destruction, head and crown, too, and then you will not be able to die with a calm conscience, as I die. Swear, my son.”
+
+The child stretched out his little hand toward that of his father and said, “I swear to your majesty.”
+
+“Henry,” said Charles, “call me your father.”
+
+“Father,” replied the child, “I swear to you that they shall kill me sooner than make me king.”
+
+“Good, my child. Now kiss me; and you, too, Charlotte. Never forget me.”
+
+“Oh! never, never!” cried both the children, throwing their arms around their father’s neck.
+
+“Farewell,” said Charles, “farewell, my children. Take them away, Juxon; their tears will deprive me of the courage to die.”
+
+Juxon led them away, and this time the doors were left open.
+
+Meanwhile, Athos, in his concealment, waited in vain the signal to recommence his work. Two long hours he waited in terrible inaction. A deathlike silence reigned in the room above. At last he determined to discover the cause of this stillness. He crept from his hole and stood, hidden by the black drapery, beneath the scaffold. Peeping out from the drapery, he could see the rows of halberdiers and musketeers around the scaffold and the first ranks of the populace swaying and groaning like the sea.
+
+“What is the matter, then?” he asked himself, trembling more than the wind-swayed cloth he was holding back. “The people are hurrying on, the soldiers under arms, and among the spectators I see D’Artagnan. What is he waiting for? What is he looking at? Good God! have they allowed the headsman to escape?”
+
+Suddenly the dull beating of muffled drums filled the square. The sound of heavy steps was heard above his head. The next moment the very planks of the scaffold creaked with the weight of an advancing procession, and the eager faces of the spectators confirmed what a last hope at the bottom of his heart had prevented him till then believing. At the same moment a well-known voice above him pronounced these words:
+
+“Colonel, I want to speak to the people.”
+
+Athos shuddered from head to foot. It was the king speaking on the scaffold.
+
+In fact, after taking a few drops of wine and a piece of bread, Charles, weary of waiting for death, had suddenly decided to go to meet it and had given the signal for movement. Then the two wings of the window facing the square had been thrown open, and the people had seen silently advancing from the interior of the vast chamber, first, a masked man, who, carrying an axe in his hand, was recognized as the executioner. He approached the block and laid his axe upon it. Behind him, pale indeed, but marching with a firm step, was Charles Stuart, who advanced between two priests, followed by a few superior officers appointed to preside at the execution and attended by two files of partisans who took their places on opposite sides of the scaffold.
+
+The sight of the masked man gave rise to a prolonged sensation. Every one was full of curiosity as to who that unknown executioner could be who presented himself so opportunely to assure to the people the promised spectacle, when the people believed it had been postponed until the following day. All gazed at him searchingly.
+
+But they could discern nothing but a man of middle height, dressed in black, apparently of a certain age, for the end of a gray beard peeped out from the bottom of the mask that hid his features.
+
+The king’s request had undoubtedly been acceded to by an affirmative sign, for in firm, sonorous accents, which vibrated in the depths of Athos’s heart, the king began his speech, explaining his conduct and counseling the welfare of the kingdom.
+
+“Oh!” said Athos to himself, “is it indeed possible that I hear what I hear and that I see what I see? Is it possible that God has abandoned His representative on earth and left him to die thus miserably? And I have not seen him! I have not said adieu to him!”
+
+A noise was heard like that the instrument of death would make if moved upon the block.
+
+“Do not touch the axe,” said the king, and resumed his speech.
+
+At the end of his speech the king looked tenderly around upon the people. Then unfastening the diamond ornament which the queen had sent him, he placed it in the hands of the priest who accompanied Juxon. Then he drew from his breast a little cross set in diamonds, which, like the order, had been the gift of Henrietta Maria.
+
+“Sir,” said he to the priest, “I shall keep this cross in my hand till the last moment. Take it from me when I am — dead.”
+
+“Yes, sire,” said a voice, which Athos recognized as that of Aramis.
+
+He then took his hat from his head and threw it on the ground. One by one he undid the buttons of his doublet, took it off and deposited it by the side of his hat. Then, as it was cold, he asked for his gown, which was brought to him.
+
+All the preparations were made with a frightful calmness. One would have thought the king was going to bed and not to his coffin.
+
+“Will these be in your way?” he said to the executioner, raising his long locks; “if so, they can be tied up.”
+
+Charles accompanied these words with a look designed to penetrate the mask of the unknown headsman. His calm, noble gaze forced the man to turn away his head. But after the searching look of the king he encountered the burning eyes of Aramis.
+
+The king, seeing that he did not reply, repeated his question.
+
+“It will do,” replied the man, in a tremulous voice, “if you separate them across the neck.”
+
+The king parted his hair with his hands, and looking at the block he said:
+
+“This block is very low, is there no other to be had?”
+
+“It is the usual block,” answered the man in the mask.
+
+“Do you think you can behead me with a single blow?” asked the king.
+
+“I hope so,” was the reply. There was something so strange in these three words that everybody, except the king, shuddered.
+
+“I do not wish to be taken by surprise,” added the king. “I shall kneel down to pray; do not strike then.”
+
+“When shall I strike?”
+
+“When I shall lay my head on the block and say ‘Remember!’ then strike boldly.”
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the king to those around him, “I leave you to brave the tempest; I go before you to a kingdom which knows no storms. Farewell.”
+
+He looked at Aramis and made a special sign to him with his head.
+
+“Now,” he continued, “withdraw a little and let me say my prayer, I beseech you. You, also, stand aside,” he said to the masked man. “It is only for a moment and I know that I belong to you; but remember that you are not to strike till I give the signal.”
+
+Then he knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and lowering his face to the planks, as if he would have kissed them, said in a low tone, in French, “Comte de la Fere, are you there?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty,” he answered, trembling.
+
+“Faithful friend, noble heart!” said the king, “I should not have been rescued. I have addressed my people and I have spoken to God; last of all I speak to you. To maintain a cause which I believed sacred I have lost the throne and my children their inheritance. A million in gold remains; it is buried in the cellars of Newcastle Keep. You only know that this money exists. Make use of it, then, whenever you think it will be most useful, for my eldest son’s welfare. And now, farewell.”
+
+“Farewell, saintly, martyred majesty,” lisped Athos, chilled with terror.
+
+A moment’s silence ensued and then, in a full, sonorous voice, the king exclaimed: “Remember!”
+
+He had scarcely uttered the word when a heavy blow shook the scaffold and where Athos stood immovable a warm drop fell upon his brow. He reeled back with a shudder and the same moment the drops became a crimson cataract.
+
+Athos fell on his knees and remained some minutes as if bewildered or stunned. At last he rose and taking his handkerchief steeped it in the blood of the martyred king. Then as the crowd gradually dispersed he leaped down, crept from behind the drapery, glided between two horses, mingled with the crowd and was the first to arrive at the inn.
+
+Having gained his room he raised his hand to his face, and observing that his fingers were covered with the monarch’s blood, fell down insensible.
+
+Chapter LXVII. The Man in the Mask.
+
+The snow was falling thick and icy. Aramis was the next to come in and to discover Athos almost insensible. But at the first words he uttered the comte roused himself from the kind of lethargy in which he had sunk.
+
+“Well,” said Aramis, “beaten by fate!”
+
+“Beaten!” said Athos. “Noble and unhappy king!”
+
+“Are you wounded?” cried Aramis.
+
+“No, this is his blood.”
+
+“Where were you, then?”
+
+“Where you left me — under the scaffold.”
+
+“Did you see it all?”
+
+“No, but I heard all. God preserve me from another such hour as I have just passed.”
+
+“Then you know that I did not leave him?”
+
+“I heard your voice up to the last moment.”
+
+“Here is the order he gave me and the cross I took from his hand; he desired they should be returned to the queen.”
+
+“Then here is a handkerchief to wrap them in,” replied Athos, drawing from his pocket the one he had steeped in the king’s blood.
+
+“And what,” he continued, “has been done with the poor body?”
+
+“By order of Cromwell royal honors will be accorded to it. The doctors are embalming the corpse, and when it is ready it will be placed in a lighted chapel.”
+
+“Mockery,” muttered Athos, savagely; “royal honors to one whom they have murdered!”
+
+“Well, cheer up!” said a loud voice from the staircase, which Porthos had just mounted. “We are all mortal, my poor friends.”
+
+“You are late, my dear Porthos.”
+
+“Yes, there were some people on the way who delayed me. The wretches were dancing. I took one of them by the throat and three-quarters throttled him. Just then a patrol rode up. Luckily the man I had had most to do with was some minutes before he could speak, so I took advantage of his silence to walk off.”
+
+“Have you seen D’Artagnan?”
+
+“We got separated in the crowd and I could not find him again.”
+
+“Oh!” said Athos, satirically, “I saw him. He was in the front row of the crowd, admirably placed for seeing; and as on the whole the sight was curious, he probably wished to stay to the end.”
+
+“Ah Comte de la Fere,” said a calm voice, though hoarse with running, “is it your habit to calumniate the absent?”
+
+This reproof stung Athos to the heart, but as the impression produced by seeing D’Artagnan foremost in a coarse, ferocious crowd had been very strong, he contented himself with replying:
+
+“I am not calumniating you, my friend. They were anxious about you here; I simply told them where you were. You didn’t know King Charles; to you he was only a foreigner and you were not obliged to love him.”
+
+So saying, he stretched out his hand, but the other pretended not to see it and he let it drop again slowly by his side.
+
+“Ugh! I am tired,” cried D’Artagnan, sitting down.
+
+“Drink a glass of port,” said Aramis; “it will refresh you.”
+
+“Yes, let us drink,” said Athos, anxious to make it up by hobnobbing with D’Artagnan, “let us drink and get away from this hateful country. The felucca is waiting for us, you know; let us leave to-night, we have nothing more to do here.”
+
+“You are in a hurry, sir count,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“But what would you have us to do here, now that the king is dead?”
+
+“Go, sir count,” replied D’Artagnan, carelessly; “you see nothing to keep you a little longer in England? Well, for my part, I, a bloodthirsty ruffian, who can go and stand close to a scaffold, in order to have a better view of the king’s execution — I remain.”
+
+Athos turned pale. Every reproach his friend uttered struck deeply in his heart.
+
+“Ah! you remain in London?” said Porthos.
+
+“Yes. And you?”
+
+“Hang it!” said Porthos, a little perplexed between the two, “I suppose, as I came with you, I must go away with you. I can’t leave you alone in this abominable country.”
+
+“Thanks, my worthy friend. So I have a little adventure to propose to you when the count is gone. I want to find out who was the man in the mask, who so obligingly offered to cut the king’s throat.”
+
+“A man in a mask?” cried Athos. “You did not let the executioner escape, then?”
+
+“The executioner is still in the cellar, where, I presume, he has had an interview with mine host’s bottles. But you remind me. Mousqueton!”
+
+“Sir,” answered a voice from the depths of the earth.
+
+“Let out your prisoner. All is over.”
+
+“But,” said Athos, “who is the wretch that has dared to raise his hand against his king?”
+
+“An amateur headsman,” replied Aramis, “who however, does not handle the axe amiss.”
+
+“Did you not see his face?” asked Athos.
+
+“He wore a mask.”
+
+“But you, Aramis, who were close to him?”
+
+“I could see nothing but a gray beard under the fringe of the mask.”
+
+“Then it must be a man of a certain age.”
+
+“Oh!” said D’Artagnan, “that matters little. When one puts on a mask, it is not difficult to wear a beard under it.”
+
+“I am sorry I did not follow him,” said Porthos.
+
+“Well, my dear Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, “that’s the very thing it came into my head to do.”
+
+Athos understood all now.
+
+“Pardon me, D’Artagnan,” he said. “I have distrusted God; I could the more easily distrust you. Pardon me, my friend.”
+
+“We will see about that presently,” said D’Artagnan, with a slight smile.
+
+“Well, then?” said Aramis.
+
+“Well, while I was watching — not the king, as monsieur le comte thinks, for I know what it is to see a man led to death, and though I ought to be accustomed to the sight it always makes me ill — while I was watching the masked executioner, the idea came to me, as I said, to find out who he was. Now, as we are wont to complete ourselves each by all the rest and to depend on one another for assistance, as one calls his other hand to aid the first, I looked around instinctively to see if Porthos was there; for I had seen you, Aramis, with the king, and you, count, I knew would be under the scaffold, and for that reason I forgive you,” he added, offering Athos his hand, “for you must have suffered much. I was looking around for Porthos when I saw near me a head which had been broken, but which, for better or worse, had been patched with plaster and with black silk. ‘Humph!’ thought I, ‘that looks like my handiwork; I fancy I must have mended that skull somewhere or other.’ And, in fact, it was that unfortunate Scotchman, Parry’s brother, you know, on whom Groslow amused himself by trying his strength. Well, this man was making signs to another at my left, and turning around I recognized the honest Grimaud. ‘Oh!’ said I to him. Grimaud turned round with a jerk, recognized me, and pointed to the man in the mask. ‘Eh!’ said he, which meant, ‘Do you see him?’ ‘Parbleu!’ I answered, and we perfectly understood one another. Well, everything was finished as you know. The mob dispersed. I made a sign to Grimaud and the Scotchman, and we all three retired into a corner of the square. I saw the executioner return into the king’s room, change his clothes, put on a black hat and a large cloak and disappear. Five minutes later he came down the grand staircase.”
+
+“You followed him?” cried Athos.
+
+“I should think so, but not without difficulty. Every few minutes he turned around, and thus obliged us to conceal ourselves. I might have gone up to him and killed him. But I am not selfish, and I thought it might console you all a little to have a share in the matter. So we followed him through the lowest streets in the city, and in half an hour’s time he stopped before a little isolated house. Grimaud drew out a pistol. ‘Eh?’ said he, showing it. I held back his arm. The man in the mask stopped before a low door and drew out a key; but before he placed it in the lock he turned around to see if he was being followed. Grimaud and I got behind a tree, and the Scotchman having nowhere to hide himself, threw himself on his face in the road. Next moment the door opened and the man disappeared.”
+
+“The scoundrel!” said Aramis. “While you have been returning hither he will have escaped and we shall never find him.”
+
+“Come, now, Aramis,” said D’Artagnan, “you must be taking me for some one else.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” said Athos, “in your absence — — ”
+
+“Well, in my absence haven’t I put in my place Grimaud and the Scotchman? Before he had taken ten steps beyond the door I had examined the house on all sides. At one of the doors, that by which he had entered, I placed our Scotchman, making a sign to him to follow the man wherever he might go, if he came out again. Then going around the house I placed Grimaud at the other exit, and here I am. Our game is beaten up. Now for the tally-ho.”
+
+Athos threw himself into D’Artagnan’s arms.
+
+“Friend,” he said, “you have been too good in pardoning me; I was wrong, a hundred times wrong. I ought to have known you better by this time; but we are all possessed of a malignant spirit, which bids us doubt.”
+
+“Humph!” said Porthos. “Don’t you think the executioner might be Master Cromwell, who, to make sure of this affair, undertook it himself?”
+
+“Ah! just so. Cromwell is stout and short, and this man thin and lanky, rather tall than otherwise.”
+
+“Some condemned soldier, perhaps,” suggested Athos, “whom they have pardoned at the price of regicide.”
+
+“No, no,” continued D’Artagnan, “it was not the measured step of a foot soldier, nor was it the gait of a horseman. If I am not mistaken we have to do with a gentleman.”
+
+“A gentleman!” exclaimed Athos. “Impossible! It would be a dishonor to all the nobility.”
+
+“Fine sport, by Jove!” cried Porthos, with a laugh that shook the windows. “Fine sport!”
+
+“Are you still bent on departure, Athos?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“No, I remain,” replied Athos, with a threatening gesture that promised no good to whomsoever it was addressed.
+
+“Swords, then!” cried Aramis, “swords! let us not lose a moment.”
+
+The four friends resumed their own clothes, girded on their swords, ordered Mousqueton and Blaisois to pay the bill and to arrange everything for immediate departure, and wrapped in their large cloaks left in search of their game.
+
+The night was dark, snow was falling, the streets were silent and deserted. D’Artagnan led the way through the intricate windings and narrow alleys of the city and ere long they had reached the house in question. For a moment D’Artagnan thought that Parry’s brother had disappeared; but he was mistaken. The robust Scotchman, accustomed to the snows of his native hills, had stretched himself against a post, and like a fallen statue, insensible to the inclemency of the weather, had allowed the snow to cover him. He rose, however, as they approached.
+
+“Come,” said Athos, “here’s another good servant. Really, honest men are not so scarce as I thought.”
+
+“Don’t be in a hurry to weave crowns for our Scotchman. I believe the fellow is here on his own account, for I have heard that these gentlemen born beyond the Tweed are very vindictive. I should not like to be Groslow, if he meets him.”
+
+“Well?” said Athos, to the man, in English.
+
+“No one has come out,” he replied.
+
+“Then, Porthos and Aramis, will you remain with this man while we go around to Grimaud?”
+
+Grimaud had made himself a kind of sentry box out of a hollow willow, and as they drew near he put his head out and gave a low whistle.
+
+“Soho!” cried Athos.
+
+“Yes,” said Grimaud.
+
+“Well, has anybody come out?”
+
+“No, but somebody has gone in.”
+
+“A man or a woman?”
+
+“A man.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said D’Artagnan, “there are two of them, then!”
+
+“I wish there were four,” said Athos; “the two parties would then be equal.”
+
+“Perhaps there are four,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Other men may have entered before them and waited for them.”
+
+“We can find out,” said Grimaud. At the same time he pointed to a window, through the shutters of which a faint light streamed.
+
+“That is true,” said D’Artagnan, “let us call the others.”
+
+They returned around the house to fetch Porthos and Aramis.
+
+“Have you seen anything?” they asked.
+
+“No, but we are going to,” replied D’Artagnan, pointing to Grimaud, who had already climbed some five or six feet from the ground.
+
+All four came up together. Grimaud continued to climb like a cat and succeeded at last in catching hold of a hook, which served to keep one of the shutters back when opened. Then resting his foot on a small ledge he made a sign to show all was right.
+
+“Well?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+Grimaud showed his closed hand, with two fingers spread out.
+
+“Speak,” said Athos; “we cannot see your signs. How many are there?”
+
+“Two. One opposite to me, the other with his back to me.”
+
+“Good. And the man opposite to you is — — 
+
+“The man I saw go in.”
+
+“Do you know him?”
+
+“I thought I recognized him, and was not mistaken. Short and stout.”
+
+“Who is it?” they all asked together in a low tone.
+
+“General Oliver Cromwell.”
+
+The four friends looked at one another.
+
+“And the other?” asked Athos.
+
+“Thin and lanky.”
+
+“The executioner,” said D’Artagnan and Aramis at the same time.
+
+“I can see nothing but his back,” resumed Grimaud. “But wait. He is moving; and if he has taken off his mask I shall be able to see. Ah — — ”
+
+And as if struck in the heart he let go the hook and dropped with a groan.
+
+“Did you see him?” they all asked.
+
+“Yes,” said Grimaud, with his hair standing on end.
+
+“The thin, spare man?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“The executioner, in short?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And who is it?” said Porthos.
+
+“He — he — is — — ” murmured Grimaud, pale as a ghost and seizing his master’s hand.
+
+“Who? He?” asked Athos.
+
+“Mordaunt,” replied Grimaud.
+
+D’Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis uttered a cry of joy.
+
+Athos stepped back and passed his hand across his brow.
+
+“Fatality!” he muttered.
+
+Chapter LXVIII. Cromwell’s House.
+
+It was, in fact, Mordaunt whom D’Artagnan had followed, without knowing it. On entering the house he had taken off his mask and imitation beard, then, mounting a staircase, had opened a door, and in a room lighted by a single lamp found himself face to face with a man seated behind a desk.
+
+This man was Cromwell.
+
+Cromwell had two or three of these retreats in London, unknown except to the most intimate of his friends. Mordaunt was among these.
+
+“It is you, Mordaunt,” he said. “You are late.”
+
+“General, I wished to see the ceremony to the end, which delayed me.”
+
+“Ah! I scarcely thought you were so curious as that.”
+
+“I am always curious to see the downfall of your honor’s enemies, and he was not among the least of them. But you, general, were you not at Whitehall?”
+
+“No,” said Cromwell.
+
+There was a moment’s silence.
+
+“Have you had any account of it?”
+
+“None. I have been here since the morning. I only know that there was a conspiracy to rescue the king.”
+
+“Ah, you knew that?” said Mordaunt.
+
+“It matters little. Four men, disguised as workmen, were to get the king out of prison and take him to Greenwich, where a vessel was waiting.”
+
+“And knowing all that, your honor remained here, far from the city, tranquil and inactive.”
+
+“Tranquil, yes,” replied Cromwell. “But who told you I was inactive?”
+
+“But — if the plot had succeeded?”
+
+“I wished it to do so.”
+
+“I thought your excellence considered the death of Charles I. as a misfortune necessary to the welfare of England.”
+
+“Yes, his death; but it would have been more seemly not upon the scaffold.”
+
+“Why so?” asked Mordaunt.
+
+Cromwell smiled. “Because it could have been said that I had had him condemned for the sake of justice and had let him escape out of pity.”
+
+“But if he had escaped?”
+
+“Impossible; my precautions were taken.”
+
+“And does your honor know the four men who undertook to rescue him?”
+
+“The four Frenchmen, of whom two were sent by the queen to her husband and two by Mazarin to me.”
+
+“And do you think Mazarin commissioned them to act as they have done?”
+
+“It is possible. But he will not avow it.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Because they failed.”
+
+“Your honor gave me two of these Frenchmen when they were only guilty of fighting for Charles I. Now that they are guilty of a conspiracy against England will your honor give me all four of them?”
+
+“Take them,” said Cromwell.
+
+Mordaunt bowed with a smile of triumphant ferocity.
+
+“Did the people shout at all?” Cromwell asked.
+
+“Very little, except ‘Long live Cromwell!’”
+
+“Where were you placed?”
+
+Mordaunt tried for a moment to read in the general’s face if this was simply a useless question, or whether he knew everything. But his piercing eyes could by no means penetrate the sombre depths of Cromwell’s.
+
+“I was so situated as to hear and see everything,” he answered.
+
+It was now Cromwell’s turn to look fixedly at Mordaunt, and Mordaunt to make himself impenetrable.
+
+“It appears,” said Cromwell, “that this improvised executioner did his duty remarkably well. The blow, so they tell me at least, was struck with a master’s hand.”
+
+Mordaunt remembered that Cromwell had told him he had had no detailed account, and he was now quite convinced that the general had been present at the execution, hidden behind some screen or curtain.
+
+“In fact,” said Mordaunt, with a calm voice and immovable countenance, “a single blow sufficed.”
+
+“Perhaps it was some one in that occupation,” said Cromwell.
+
+“Do you think so, sir? He did not look like an executioner.”
+
+“And who else save an executioner would have wished to fill that horrible office?”
+
+“But,” said Mordaunt, “it might have been some personal enemy of the king, who had made a vow of vengeance and accomplished it in this way. Perhaps it was some man of rank who had grave reasons for hating the fallen king, and who, learning that the king was about to flee and escape him, threw himself in the way, with a mask on his face and an axe in his hand, not as substitute for the executioner, but as an ambassador of Fate.”
+
+“Possibly.”
+
+“And if that were the case would your honor condemn his action?”
+
+“It is not for me to judge. It rests between his conscience and his God.”
+
+“But if your honor knew this man?”
+
+“I neither know nor wish to know him. Provided Charles is dead, it is the axe, not the man, we must thank.”
+
+“And yet, without the man, the king would have been rescued.”
+
+Cromwell smiled.
+
+“They would have carried him to Greenwich,” he said, “and put him on board a felucca with five barrels of powder in the hold. Once out to sea, you are too good a politician not to understand the rest, Mordaunt.”
+
+“Yes, they would have all been blown up.”
+
+“Just so. The explosion would have done what the axe had failed to do. Men would have said that the king had escaped human justice and been overtaken by God’s. You see now why I did not care to know your gentleman in the mask; for really, in spite of his excellent intentions, I could not thank him for what he has done.”
+
+Mordaunt bowed humbly. “Sir,” he said, “you are a profound thinker and your plan was sublime.”
+
+“Say absurd, since it has become useless. The only sublime ideas in politics are those which bear fruit. So to-night, Mordaunt, go to Greenwich and ask for the captain of the felucca Lightning. Show him a white handkerchief knotted at the four corners and tell the crew to disembark and carry the powder back to the arsenal, unless, indeed — — ”
+
+“Unless?” said Mordaunt, whose face was lighted by a savage joy as Cromwell spoke:
+
+“This skiff might be of use to you for personal projects.”
+
+“Oh, my lord, my lord!”
+
+“That title,” said Cromwell, laughing, “is all very well here, but take care a word like that does not escape your lips in public.”
+
+“But your honor will soon be called so generally.”
+
+“I hope so, at least,” said Cromwell, rising and putting on his cloak.
+
+“You are going, sir?”
+
+“Yes,” said Cromwell. “I slept here last night and the night before, and you know it is not my custom to sleep three times in the same bed.”
+
+“Then,” said Mordaunt, “your honor gives me my liberty for to-night?”
+
+“And even for all day to-morrow, if you want it. Since last evening,” he added, smiling, “you have done enough in my service, and if you have any personal matters to settle it is just that I should give you time.”
+
+“Thank you, sir; it will be well employed, I hope.”
+
+Cromwell turned as he was going.
+
+“Are you armed?” he asked.
+
+“I have my sword.”
+
+“And no one waiting for you outside?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Then you had better come with me.”
+
+“Thank you, sir, but the way by the subterranean passage would take too much time and I have none to lose.”
+
+Cromwell placed his hand on a hidden handle and opened a door so well concealed by the tapestry that the most practiced eye could not have discovered it. It closed after him with a spring. This door communicated with a subterranean passage, leading under the street to a grotto in the garden of a house about a hundred yards from that of the future Protector.
+
+It was just before this that Grimaud had perceived the two men seated together.
+
+D’Artagnan was the first to recover from his surprise.
+
+“Mordaunt,” he cried. “Ah! by Heaven! it is God Himself who sent us here.”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, “let us break the door in and fall upon him.”
+
+“No,” replied D’Artagnan, “no noise. Now, Grimaud, you come here, climb up to the window again and tell us if Mordaunt is alone and whether he is preparing to go out or go to bed. If he comes out we shall catch him. If he stays in we will break in the window. It is easier and less noisy than the door.”
+
+Grimaud began to scale the wall again.
+
+“Keep guard at the other door, Athos and Aramis. Porthos and I will stay here.”
+
+The friends obeyed.
+
+“He is alone,” said Grimaud.
+
+“We did not see his companion come out.”
+
+“He may have gone by the other door.”
+
+“What is he doing?”
+
+“Putting on his cloak and gloves.”
+
+“He’s ours,” muttered D’Artagnan.
+
+Porthos mechanically drew his dagger from the scabbard.
+
+“Put it up again, my friend,” said D’Artagnan. “We must proceed in an orderly manner.”
+
+“Hush!” said Grimaud, “he is coming out. He has put out the lamp, I can see nothing now.”
+
+“Get down then and quickly.”
+
+Grimaud leaped down. The snow deadened the noise of his fall.
+
+“Now go and tell Athos and Aramis to stand on each side of the door and clap their hands if they catch him. We will do the same.”
+
+The next moment the door opened and Mordaunt appeared on the threshold, face to face with D’Artagnan. Porthos clapped his hands and the other two came running around. Mordaunt was livid, but he uttered no cry nor called for assistance. D’Artagnan quietly pushed him in again, and by the light of a lamp on the staircase made him ascend the steps backward one by one, keeping his eyes all the time on Mordaunt’s hands, who, however, knowing that it was useless, attempted no resistance. At last they stood face to face in the very room where ten minutes before Mordaunt had been talking to Cromwell.
+
+Porthos came up behind, and unhooking the lamp on the staircase relit that in the room. Athos and Aramis entered last and locked the door behind them.
+
+“Oblige me by taking a seat,” said D’Artagnan, pushing a chair toward Mordaunt, who sat down, pale but calm. Aramis, Porthos and D’Artagnan drew their chairs near him. Athos alone kept away and sat in the furthest corner of the room, as if determined to be merely a spectator of the proceedings. He seemed to be quite overcome. Porthos rubbed his hands in feverish impatience. Aramis bit his lips till the blood came.
+
+D’Artagnan alone was calm, at least in appearance.
+
+“Monsieur Mordaunt,” he said, “since, after running after one another so long, chance has at last brought us together, let us have a little conversation, if you please.”
+
+Chapter LXIX. Conversational.
+
+Though Mordaunt had been so completely taken by surprise and had mounted the stairs in such utter confusion, when once seated he recovered himself, as it were, and prepared to seize any possible opportunity of escape. His eye wandered to a long stout sword on his flank and he instinctively slipped it around within reach of his right hand.
+
+D’Artagnan was waiting for a reply to his remark and said nothing. Aramis muttered to himself, “We shall hear nothing but the usual commonplace things.”
+
+Porthos sucked his mustache, muttering, “A good deal of ceremony to-night about crushing an adder.” Athos shrunk into his corner, pale and motionless as a bas-relief.
+
+The silence, however, could not last forever. So D’Artagnan began:
+
+“Sir,” he said, with desperate politeness, “it seems to me that you change your costume almost as rapidly as I have seen the Italian mummers do, whom the Cardinal Mazarin brought over from Bergamo and whom he doubtless took you to see during your travels in France.”
+
+Mordaunt did not reply.
+
+“Just now,” D’Artagnan continued, “you were disguised — I mean to say, attired — as a murderer, and now — — ”
+
+“And now I look very much like a man who is going to be murdered.”
+
+“Oh! sir,” said D’Artagnan, “how can you talk like that when you are in the company of gentlemen and have such an excellent sword at your side?”
+
+“No sword is excellent enough to be of use against four swords and daggers.”
+
+“Well, that is scarcely the question. I had the honor of asking you why you altered your costume. The mask and beard became you very well, and as to the axe, I do not think it would be out of keeping even at this moment. Why, then, have you laid it aside?”
+
+“Because, remembering the scene at Armentieres, I thought I should find four axes for one, as I was to meet four executioners.”
+
+“Sir,” replied D’Artagnan, in the calmest manner possible, “you are very young; I shall therefore overlook your frivolous remarks. What took place at Armentieres has no connection whatever with the present occasion. We could scarcely have requested your mother to take a sword and fight us.”
+
+“Aha! It is a duel, then?” cried Mordaunt, as if disposed to reply at once to the provocation.
+
+Porthos rose, always ready for this kind of adventure.
+
+“Pardon me,” said D’Artagnan. “Do not let us do things in a hurry. We will arrange the matter rather better. Confess, Monsieur Mordaunt, that you are anxious to kill some of us.”
+
+“All,” replied Mordaunt.
+
+“Then, my dear sir; I am convinced that these gentlemen return your kind wishes and will be delighted to kill you also. Of course they will do so as honorable gentlemen, and the best proof I can furnish is this — — ”
+
+So saying, he threw his hat on the ground, pushed back his chair to the wall and bowed to Mordaunt with true French grace.
+
+“At your service, sir,” he continued. “My sword is shorter than yours, it’s true, but, bah! I think the arm will make up for the sword.”
+
+“Halt!” cried Porthos coming forward. “I begin, and without any rhetoric.”
+
+“Allow me, Porthos,” said Aramis.
+
+Athos did not move. He might have been taken for a statue. Even his breathing seemed to be arrested.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said D’Artagnan, “you shall have your turn. Monsieur Mordaunt dislikes you sufficiently not to refuse you afterward. You can see it in his eye. So pray keep your places, like Athos, whose calmness is entirely laudable. Besides, we will have no words about it. I have particular business to settle with this gentleman and I shall and will begin.”
+
+Porthos and Aramis drew back, disappointed, and drawing his sword D’Artagnan turned to his adversary:
+
+“Sir, I am waiting for you.”
+
+“And for my part, gentlemen, I admire you. You are disputing which shall fight me first, but you do not consult me who am most concerned in the matter. I hate you all, but not equally. I hope to kill all four of you, but I am more likely to kill the first than the second, the second than the third, and the third than the last. I claim, then, the right to choose my opponent. If you refuse this right you may kill me, but I shall not fight.”
+
+“It is but fair,” said Porthos and Aramis, hoping he would choose one of them.
+
+Athos and D’Artagnan said nothing, but their silence seemed to imply consent.
+
+“Well, then,” said Mordaunt, “I choose for my adversary the man who, not thinking himself worthy to be called Comte de la Fere, calls himself Athos.”
+
+Athos sprang up, but after an instant of motionless silence he said, to the astonishment of his friends, “Monsieur Mordaunt, a duel between us is impossible. Submit this honour to somebody else.” And he sat down.
+
+“Ah!” said Mordaunt, with a sneer, “there’s one who is afraid.”
+
+“Zounds!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, bounding toward him, “who says that Athos is afraid?”
+
+“Let him have his say, D’Artagnan,” said Athos, with a smile of sadness and contempt.
+
+“Is it your decision, Athos?” resumed the Gascon.
+
+“Irrevocably.”
+
+“You hear, sir,” said D’Artagnan, turning to Mordaunt. “The Comte de la Fere will not do you the honor of fighting with you. Choose one of us to replace the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“As long as I don’t fight with him it is the same to me with whom I fight. Put your names into a hat and draw lots.”
+
+“A good idea,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“At least that will conciliate us all,” said Aramis.
+
+“I should never have thought of that,” said Porthos, “and yet it is very simple.”
+
+“Come, Aramis,” said D’Artagnan, “write this for us in those neat little characters in which you wrote to Marie Michon that the mother of this gentleman intended to assassinate the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+Mordaunt sustained this new attack without wincing. He stood with his arms folded, apparently as calm as any man could be in such circumstances. If he had not courage he had what is very like it, namely, pride.
+
+Aramis went to Cromwell’s desk, tore off three bits of paper of equal size, wrote on the first his own name and on the others those of his two companions, and presented them open to Mordaunt, who by a movement of his head indicated that he left the matter entirely to Aramis. He then rolled them separately and put them in a hat, which he handed to Mordaunt.
+
+Mordaunt put his hand into the hat, took out one of the three papers and disdainfully dropped it on the table without reading it.
+
+“Ah! serpent,” muttered D’Artagnan, “I would give my chance of a captaincy in the mousquetaires for that to be my name.”
+
+Aramis opened the paper, and in a voice trembling with hate and vengeance read “D’Artagnan.”
+
+The Gascon uttered a cry of joy and turning to Mordaunt:
+
+“I hope, sir,” said he, “you have no objection to make.”
+
+“None, whatever,” replied the other, drawing his sword and resting the point on his boot.
+
+The moment that D’Artagnan saw that his wish was accomplished and his man would not escape him, he recovered his usual tranquillity. He turned up his cuffs neatly and rubbed the sole of his right boot on the floor, but did not fail, however, to remark that Mordaunt was looking about him in a singular manner.
+
+“Are you ready, sir?” he said at last.
+
+“I was waiting for you, sir,” said Mordaunt, raising his head and casting at his opponent a look it would be impossible to describe.
+
+“Well, then,” said the Gascon, “take care of yourself, for I am not a bad hand at the rapier.”
+
+“Nor I either.”
+
+“So much the better; that sets my mind at rest. Defend yourself.”
+
+“One minute,” said the young man. “Give me your word, gentlemen, that you will not attack me otherwise than one after the other.”
+
+“Is it to have the pleasure of insulting us that you say that, my little viper?”
+
+“No, but to set my mind at rest, as you observed just now.”
+
+“It is for something else than that, I imagine,” muttered D’Artagnan, shaking his head doubtfully.
+
+“On the honor of gentlemen,” said Aramis and Porthos.
+
+“In that case, gentlemen, have the kindness to retire into the corners, so as to give us ample room. We shall require it.”
+
+“Yes, gentlemen,” said D’Artagnan, “we must not leave this person the slightest pretext for behaving badly, which, with all due respect, I fancy he is anxious still to do.”
+
+This new attack made no impression on Mordaunt. The space was cleared, the two lamps placed on Cromwell’s desk, in order that the combatants might have as much light as possible; and the swords crossed.
+
+D’Artagnan was too good a swordsman to trifle with his opponent. He made a rapid and brilliant feint which Mordaunt parried.
+
+“Aha!” he cried with a smile of satisfaction.
+
+And without losing a minute, thinking he saw an opening, he thrust his right in and forced Mordaunt to parry a counter en quarte so fine that the point of the weapon might have turned within a wedding ring.
+
+This time it was Mordaunt who smiled.
+
+“Ah, sir,” said D’Artagnan, “you have a wicked smile. It must have been the devil who taught it you, was it not?”
+
+Mordaunt replied by trying his opponent’s weapon with an amount of strength which the Gascon was astonished to find in a form apparently so feeble; but thanks to a parry no less clever than that which Mordaunt had just achieved, he succeeded in meeting his sword, which slid along his own without touching his chest.
+
+Mordaunt rapidly sprang back a step.
+
+“Ah! you lose ground, you are turning? Well, as you please, I even gain something by it, for I no longer see that wicked smile of yours. You have no idea what a false look you have, particularly when you are afraid. Look at my eyes and you will see what no looking-glass has ever shown you — a frank and honorable countenance.”
+
+To this flow of words, not perhaps in the best taste, but characteristic of D’Artagnan, whose principal object was to divert his opponent’s attention, Mordaunt did not reply, but continuing to turn around he succeeded in changing places with D’Artagnan.
+
+He smiled more and more sarcastically and his smile began to make the Gascon anxious.
+
+“Come, come,” cried D’Artagnan, “we must finish with this,” and in his turn he pressed Mordaunt hard, who continued to lose ground, but evidently on purpose and without letting his sword leave the line for a moment. However, as they were fighting in a room and had not space to go on like that forever, Mordaunt’s foot at last touched the wall, against which he rested his left hand.
+
+“Ah, this time you cannot lose ground, my fine friend!” exclaimed D’Artagnan. “Gentlemen, did you ever see a scorpion pinned to a wall? No. Well, then, you shall see it now.”
+
+In a second D’Artagnan had made three terrible thrusts at Mordaunt, all of which touched, but only pricked him. The three friends looked on, panting and astonished. At last D’Artagnan, having got up too close, stepped back to prepare a fourth thrust, but the moment when, after a fine, quick feint, he was attacking as sharply as lightning, the wall seemed to give way, Mordaunt disappeared through the opening, and D’Artagnan’s blade, caught between the panels, shivered like a sword of glass. D’Artagnan sprang back; the wall had closed again.
+
+Mordaunt, in fact, while defending himself, had manoeuvred so as to reach the secret door by which Cromwell had left, had felt for the knob with his left hand, pressed it and disappeared.
+
+The Gascon uttered a furious imprecation, which was answered by a wild laugh on the other side of the iron panel.
+
+“Help me, gentlemen,” cried D’Artagnan, “we must break in this door.”
+
+“It is the devil in person!” said Aramis, hastening forward.
+
+“He escapes us,” growled Porthos, pushing his huge shoulder against the hinges, but in vain. “‘Sblood! he escapes us.”
+
+“So much the better,” muttered Athos.
+
+“I thought as much,” said D’Artagnan, wasting his strength in useless efforts. “Zounds, I thought as much when the wretch kept moving around the room. I thought he was up to something.”
+
+“It’s a misfortune, to which his friend, the devil, treats us,” said Aramis.
+
+“It’s a piece of good fortune sent from Heaven,” said Athos, evidently much relieved.
+
+“Really!” said D’Artagnan, abandoning the attempt to burst open the panel after several ineffectual attempts, “Athos, I cannot imagine how you can talk to us in that way. You cannot understand the position we are in. In this kind of game, not to kill is to let one’s self be killed. This fox of a fellow will be sending us a hundred iron-sided beasts who will pick us off like sparrows in this place. Come, come, we must be off. If we stay here five minutes more there’s an end of us.”
+
+“Yes, you are right.”
+
+“But where shall we go?” asked Porthos.
+
+“To the hotel, to be sure, to get our baggage and horses; and from there, if it please God, to France, where, at least, I understand the architecture of the houses.”
+
+So, suiting the action to the word, D’Artagnan thrust the remnant of his sword into its scabbard, picked up his hat and ran down the stairs, followed by the others.
+
+Chapter LXX. The Skiff “Lightning.”
+
+D’Artagnan had judged correctly; Mordaunt felt that he had no time to lose, and he lost none. He knew the rapidity of decision and action that characterized his enemies and resolved to act with reference to that. This time the musketeers had an adversary who was worthy of them.
+
+After closing the door carefully behind him Mordaunt glided into the subterranean passage, sheathing on the way his now useless sword, and thus reached the neighboring house, where he paused to examine himself and to take breath.
+
+“Good!” he said, “nothing, almost nothing — scratches, nothing more; two in the arm and one in the breast. The wounds that I make are better than that — witness the executioner of Bethune, my uncle and King Charles. Now, not a second to lose, for a second lost will perhaps save them. They must die — die all together — killed at one stroke by the thunder of men in default of God’s. They must disappear, broken, scattered, annihilated. I will run, then, till my legs no longer serve, till my heart bursts in my bosom but I will arrive before they do.”
+
+Mordaunt proceeded at a rapid pace to the nearest cavalry barracks, about a quarter of a league distant. He made that quarter of a league in four or five minutes. Arrived at the barracks he made himself known, took the best horse in the stables, mounted and gained the high road. A quarter of an hour later he was at Greenwich.
+
+“There is the port,” he murmured. “That dark point yonder is the Isle of Dogs. Good! I am half an hour in advance of them, an hour, perhaps. Fool that I was! I have almost killed myself by my needless haste. Now,” he added, rising in the stirrups and looking about him, “which, I wonder, is the Lightning?”
+
+At this moment, as if in reply to his words, a man lying on a coil of cables rose and advanced a few steps toward him. Mordaunt drew a handkerchief from his pocket, and tying a knot at each corner — the signal agreed upon — waved it in the air and the man came up to him. He was wrapped in a large rough cape, which concealed his form and partly his face.
+
+“Do you wish to go on the water, sir?” said the sailor.
+
+“Yes, just so. Along the Isle of Dogs.”
+
+“And perhaps you have a preference for one boat more than another. You would like one that sails as rapidly as — — ”
+
+“Lightning,” interrupted Mordaunt.
+
+“Then mine is the boat you want, sir. I’m your man.”
+
+“I begin to think so, particularly if you have not forgotten a certain signal.”
+
+“Here it is, sir,” and the sailor took from his coat a handkerchief, tied at each corner.
+
+“Good, quite right!” cried Mordaunt, springing off his horse. “There’s not a moment to lose; now take my horse to the nearest inn and conduct me to your vessel.”
+
+“But,” asked the sailor, “where are your companions? I thought there were four of you.”
+
+“Listen to me, sir. I’m not the man you take me for; you are in Captain Rogers’s post, are you not? under orders from General Cromwell. Mine, also, are from him!”
+
+“Indeed, sir, I recognize you; you are Captain Mordaunt.”
+
+Mordaunt was startled.
+
+“Oh, fear nothing,” said the skipper, showing his face. “I am a friend.”
+
+“Captain Groslow!” cried Mordaunt.
+
+“Himself. The general remembered that I had formerly been a naval officer and he gave me the command of this expedition. Is there anything new in the wind?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“I thought, perhaps, that the king’s death — — ”
+
+“Has only hastened their flight; in ten minutes they will perhaps be here.”
+
+“What have you come for, then?”
+
+“To embark with you.”
+
+“Ah! ah! the general doubted my fidelity?”
+
+“No, but I wish to have a share in my revenge. Haven’t you some one who will relieve me of my horse?”
+
+Groslow whistled and a sailor appeared.
+
+“Patrick,” said Groslow, “take this horse to the stables of the nearest inn. If any one asks you whose it is you can say that it belongs to an Irish gentleman.”
+
+The sailor departed without reply.
+
+“Now,” said Mordaunt, “are you not afraid that they will recognize you?”
+
+“There is no danger, dressed as I am in this pilot coat, on a night as dark as this. Besides even you didn’t recognize me; they will be much less likely to.”
+
+“That is true,” said Mordaunt, “and they will be far from thinking of you. Everything is ready, is it not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“The cargo on board?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Five full casks?”
+
+“And fifty empty ones.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“We are carrying port wine to Anvers.”
+
+“Excellent. Now take me aboard and return to your post, for they will soon be here.”
+
+“I am ready.”
+
+“It is important that none of your crew should see me.”
+
+“I have but one man on board, and I am as sure of him as I am of myself. Besides, he doesn’t know you; like his mates he is ready to obey our orders knowing nothing of our plan.”
+
+“Very well; let us go.”
+
+They then went down to the Thames. A boat was fastened to the shore by a chain fixed to a stake. Groslow jumped in, followed by Mordaunt, and in five minutes they were quite away from that world of houses which then crowded the outskirts of London; and Mordaunt could discern the little vessel riding at anchor near the Isle of Dogs. When they reached the side of this felucca, Mordaunt, dexterous in his eagerness for vengeance, seized a rope and climbed up the side of the vessel with a coolness and agility very rare among landsmen. He went with Groslow to the captain’s berth, a sort of temporary cabin of planks, for the chief apartment had been given up by Captain Rogers to the passengers, who were to be accommodated at the other end of the boat.
+
+“They will have nothing to do, then at this end?” said Mordaunt.
+
+“Nothing at all.”
+
+“That’s a capital arrangement. Return to Greenwich and bring them here. I shall hide myself in your cabin. You have a longboat?”
+
+“That in which we came.”
+
+“It appeared light and well constructed.”
+
+“Quite a canoe.”
+
+“Fasten it to the poop with a rope; put the oars into it, so that it may follow in the track and there will be nothing to do except to cut the cord. Put a good supply of rum and biscuit in it for the seamen; should the night happen to be stormy they will not be sorry to find something to console themselves with.”
+
+“Consider all this done. Do you wish to see the powder-room?”
+
+“No. When you return I will set the fuse myself, but be careful to conceal your face, so that you cannot be recognized by them.”
+
+“Never fear.”
+
+“There’s ten o’clock striking at Greenwich.”
+
+Groslow, then, having given the sailor on duty an order to be on the watch with more than usual vigilance, went down into the longboat and soon reached Greenwich. The wind was chilly and the jetty was deserted, as he approached it; but he had no sooner landed than he heard a noise of horses galloping upon the paved road.
+
+These horsemen were our friends, or rather, an avant garde, composed of D’Artagnan and Athos. As soon as they arrived at the spot where Groslow stood they stopped, as if guessing that he was the man they wanted. Athos alighted and calmly opened the handkerchief tied at each corner, whilst D’Artagnan, ever cautious, remained on horseback, one hand upon his pistol, leaning forward watchfully.
+
+On seeing the appointed signal, Groslow, who had at first crept behind one of the cannons planted on that spot, walked straight up to the gentlemen. He was so well wrapped up in his cloak that it would have been impossible to see his face even if the night had not been so dark as to render precaution superfluous; nevertheless, the keen glance of Athos perceived at once it was not Rogers who stood before them.
+
+“What do you want with us?” he asked of Groslow.
+
+“I wish to inform you, my lord,” replied Groslow, with an Irish accent, feigned of course, “that if you are looking for Captain Rogers you will not find him. He fell down this morning and broke his leg. But I’m his cousin; he told me everything and desired me to watch instead of him, and in his place to conduct, wherever they wished to go, the gentlemen who should bring me a handkerchief tied at each corner, like that one which you hold and one which I have in my pocket.”
+
+And he drew out the handkerchief.
+
+“Was that all he said?” inquired Athos.
+
+“No, my lord; he said you had engaged to pay seventy pounds if I landed you safe and sound at Boulogne or any other port you choose in France.”
+
+“What do you think of all this?” said Athos, in a low tone to D’Artagnan, after explaining to him in French what the sailor had said in English.
+
+“It seems a likely story to me.”
+
+“And to me, too.”
+
+“Besides, we can but blow out his brains if he proves false,” said the Gascon; “and you, Athos, you know something of everything and can be our captain. I dare say you know how to navigate, should he fail us.”
+
+“My dear friend, you guess well. My father meant me for the navy and I have some vague notions about navigation.”
+
+“You see!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+They then summoned their friends, who, with Blaisois, Mousqueton and Grimaud, promptly joined them, leaving Parry behind them, who was to take back to London the horses of the gentlemen and of their lackeys, which had been sold to the host in settlement of their account with him. Thanks to this stroke of business the four friends were able to take away with them a sum of money which, if not large, was sufficient as a provision against delays and accidents.
+
+Parry parted from his friends regretfully; they had proposed his going with them to France, but he had straightway declined.
+
+“It is very simple,” Mousqueton had said; “he is thinking of Groslow.”
+
+It was Captain Groslow, the reader will remember, who had broken Parry’s head.
+
+D’Artagnan resumed immediately the attitude of distrust that was habitual with him. He found the wharf too completely deserted, the night too dark, the captain too accommodating. He had reported to Aramis what had taken place, and Aramis, not less distrustful than he, had increased his suspicions. A slight click of the tongue against his teeth informed Athos of the Gascon’s uneasiness.
+
+“We have no time now for suspicions,” said Athos. “The boat is waiting for us; come.”
+
+“Besides,” said Aramis, “what prevents our being distrustful and going aboard at the same time? We can watch the skipper.”
+
+“And if he doesn’t go straight I will crush him, that’s all.”
+
+“Well said, Porthos,” replied D’Artagnan. “Let us go, then. You first, Mousqueton,” and he stopped his friends, directing the valets to go first, in order to test the plank leading from the pier to the boat.
+
+The three valets passed without accident. Athos followed them, then Porthos, then Aramis. D’Artagnan went last, still shaking his head.
+
+“What in the devil is the matter with you, my friend?” said Porthos. “Upon my word you would make Caesar afraid.”
+
+“The matter is,” replied D’Artagnan, “that I can see upon this pier neither inspector nor sentinel nor exciseman.”
+
+“And you complain of that!” said Porthos. “Everything goes as if in flowery paths.”
+
+“Everything goes too well, Porthos. But no matter; we must trust in God.”
+
+As soon as the plank was withdrawn the captain took his place at the tiller and made a sign to one of the sailors, who, boat-hook in hand, began to push out from the labyrinth of boats in which they were involved. The other sailor had already seated himself on the port side and was ready to row. As soon as there was room for rowing, his companion rejoined him and the boat began to move more rapidly.
+
+“At last we are off!” exclaimed Porthos.
+
+“Alas,” said Athos, “we depart alone.”
+
+“Yes; but all four together and without a scratch; which is a consolation.”
+
+“We are not yet at our destination,” observed the prudent D’Artagnan; “beware of misadventure.”
+
+“Ah, my friend!” cried Porthos, “like the crows, you always bring bad omens. Who could intercept us on such a night as this, pitch dark, when one does not see more than twenty yards before one?”
+
+“Yes, but to-morrow morning — — ”
+
+“To-morrow we shall be at Boulogne.”
+
+“I hope so, with all my heart,” said the Gascon, “and I confess my weakness. Yes, Athos, you may laugh, but as long as we were within gunshot of the pier or of the vessels lying by it I was looking for a frightful discharge of musketry which would crush us.”
+
+“But,” said Porthos, with great wisdom, “that was impossible, for they would have killed the captain and the sailors.”
+
+“Bah! much Monsieur Mordaunt would care. You don’t imagine he would consider a little thing like that?”
+
+“At any rate,” said Porthos, “I am glad to hear D’Artagnan admit that he is afraid.”
+
+“I not only confess it, but am proud of it,” returned the Gascon; “I’m not such a rhinoceros as you are. Oho! what’s that?”
+
+“The Lightning,” answered the captain, “our felucca.”
+
+“So far, so good,” laughed Athos.
+
+They went on board and the captain instantly conducted them to the berth prepared for them — a cabin which was to serve for all purposes and for the whole party; he then tried to slip away under pretext of giving orders to some one.
+
+“Stop a moment,” cried D’Artagnan; “pray how many men have you on board, captain?”
+
+“I don’t understand,” was the reply.
+
+“Explain it, Athos.”
+
+Groslow, on the question being interpreted, answered, “Three, without counting myself.”
+
+D’Artagnan understood, for while replying the captain had raised three fingers. “Oh!” he exclaimed, “I begin to be more at my ease, however, whilst you settle yourselves, I shall make the round of the boat.”
+
+“As for me,” said Porthos, “I will see to the supper.”
+
+“A very good idea, Porthos,” said the Gascon. “Athos lend me Grimaud, who in the society of his friend Parry has perhaps picked up a little English, and can act as my interpreter.”
+
+“Go, Grimaud,” said Athos.
+
+D’Artagnan, finding a lantern on the deck, took it up and with a pistol in his hand he said to the captain, in English, “Come,” (being, with the classic English oath, the only English words he knew), and so saying he descended to the lower deck.
+
+This was divided into three compartments — one which was covered by the floor of that room in which Athos, Porthos and Aramis were to pass the night; the second was to serve as the sleeping-room for the servants, the third, under the prow of the ship, was under the temporary cabin in which Mordaunt was concealed.
+
+“Oho!” cried D’Artagnan, as he went down the steps of the hatchway, preceded by the lantern, “what a number of barrels! one would think one was in the cave of Ali Baba. What is there in them?” he added, putting his lantern on one of the casks.
+
+The captain seemed inclined to go upon deck again, but controlling himself he answered:
+
+“Port wine.”
+
+“Ah! port wine! ’tis a comfort,” said the Gascon, “since we shall not die of thirst. Are they all full?”
+
+Grimaud translated the question, and Groslow, who was wiping the perspiration from off his forehead, answered:
+
+“Some full, others empty.”
+
+D’Artagnan struck the barrels with his hand, and having ascertained that he spoke the truth, pushed his lantern, greatly to the captain’s alarm, into the interstices between the barrels, and finding that there was nothing concealed in them:
+
+“Come along,” he said; and he went toward the door of the second compartment.
+
+“Stop!” said the Englishman, “I have the key of that door;” and he opened the door, with a trembling hand, into the second compartment, where Mousqueton and Blaisois were preparing supper.
+
+Here there was evidently nothing to seek or to apprehend and they passed rapidly to examine the third compartment.
+
+This was the room appropriated to the sailors. Two or three hammocks hung upon the ceiling, a table and two benches composed the entire furniture. D’Artagnan picked up two or three old sails hung on the walls, and meeting nothing to suspect, regained by the hatchway the deck of the vessel.
+
+“And this room?” he asked, pointing to the captain’s cabin.
+
+“That’s my room,” replied Groslow.
+
+“Open the door.”
+
+The captain obeyed. D’Artagnan stretched out his arm in which he held the lantern, put his head in at the half opened door, and seeing that the cabin was nothing better than a shed:
+
+“Good,” he said. “If there is an army on board it is not here that it is hidden. Let us see what Porthos has found for supper.” And thanking the captain, he regained the state cabin, where his friends were.
+
+Porthos had found nothing, and with him fatigue had prevailed over hunger. He had fallen asleep and was in a profound slumber when D’Artagnan returned. Athos and Aramis were beginning to close their eyes, which they half opened when their companion came in again.
+
+“Well!” said Aramis.
+
+“All is well; we may sleep tranquilly.”
+
+On this assurance the two friends fell asleep; and D’Artagnan, who was very weary, bade good-night to Grimaud and laid himself down in his cloak, with naked sword at his side, in such a manner that his body barricaded the passage, and it should be impossible to enter the room without upsetting him.
+
+Chapter LXXI. Port Wine.
+
+In ten minutes the masters slept; not so the servants — -hungry, and more thirsty than hungry.
+
+Blaisois and Mousqueton set themselves to preparing their bed which consisted of a plank and a valise. On a hanging table, which swung to and fro with the rolling of the vessel, were a pot of beer and three glasses.
+
+“This cursed rolling!” said Blaisois. “I know it will serve me as it did when we came over.”
+
+“And to think,” said Mousqueton, “that we have nothing to fight seasickness with but barley bread and hop beer. Pah!”
+
+“But where is your wicker flask, Monsieur Mousqueton? Have you lost it?” asked Blaisois.
+
+“No,” replied Mousqueton, “Parry kept it. Those devilish Scotchmen are always thirsty. And you, Grimaud,” he said to his companion, who had just come in after his round with D’Artagnan, “are you thirsty?”
+
+“As thirsty as a Scotchman!” was Grimaud’s laconic reply.
+
+And he sat down and began to cast up the accounts of his party, whose money he managed.
+
+“Oh, lackadaisy! I’m beginning to feel queer!” cried Blaisois.
+
+“If that’s the case,” said Mousqueton, with a learned air, “take some nourishment.”
+
+“Do you call that nourishment?” said Blaisois, pointing to the barley bread and pot of beer upon the table.
+
+“Blaisois,” replied Mousqueton, “remember that bread is the true nourishment of a Frenchman, who is not always able to get bread, ask Grimaud.”
+
+“Yes, but beer?” asked Blaisois sharply, “is that their true drink?”
+
+“As to that,” answered Mousqueton, puzzled how to get out of the difficulty, “I must confess that to me beer is as disagreeable as wine is to the English.”
+
+“What! Monsieur Mousqueton! The English — do they dislike wine?”
+
+“They hate it.”
+
+“But I have seen them drink it.”
+
+“As a punishment. For example, an English prince died one day because they had put him into a butt of Malmsey. I heard the Chevalier d’Herblay say so.”
+
+“The fool!” cried Blaisois, “I wish I had been in his place.”
+
+“Thou canst be,” said Grimaud, writing down his figures.
+
+“How?” asked Blaisois, “I can? Explain yourself.”
+
+Grimaud went on with his sum and cast up the whole.
+
+“Port,” he said, extending his hand in the direction of the first compartment examined by D’Artagnan and himself.
+
+“Eh? eh? ah? Those barrels I saw through the door?”
+
+“Port!” replied Grimaud, beginning a fresh sum.
+
+“I have heard,” said Blaisois, “that port is a very good wine.”
+
+“Excellent!” exclaimed Mousqueton, smacking his lips. “Excellent; there is port wine in the cellar of Monsieur le Baron de Bracieux.”
+
+“Suppose we ask these Englishmen to sell us a bottle,” said the honest Blaisois.
+
+“Sell!” cried Mousqueton, about whom there was a remnant of his ancient marauding character left. “One may well perceive, young man, that you are inexperienced. Why buy what one can take?”
+
+“Take!” said Blaisois; “covet the goods of your neighbor? That is forbidden, it seems to me.”
+
+“Where forbidden?” asked Mousqueton.
+
+“In the commandments of God, or of the church, I don’t know which. I only know it says, ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods, nor yet his wife.’”
+
+“That is a child’s reason, Monsieur Blaisois,” said Mousqueton in his most patronizing manner. “Yes, you talk like a child — I repeat the word. Where have you read in the Scriptures, I ask you, that the English are your neighbors?”
+
+“Where, that is true,” said Blaisois; “at least, I can’t now recall it.”
+
+“A child’s reason — I repeat it,” continued Mousqueton. “If you had been ten years engaged in war, as Grimaud and I have been, my dear Blaisois, you would know the difference there is between the goods of others and the goods of enemies. Now an Englishman is an enemy; this port wine belongs to the English, therefore it belongs to us.”
+
+“And our masters?” asked Blaisois, stupefied by this harangue, delivered with an air of profound sagacity, “will they be of your opinion?”
+
+Mousqueton smiled disdainfully.
+
+“I suppose that you think it necessary that I should disturb the repose of these illustrious lords to say, ‘Gentlemen, your servant, Mousqueton, is thirsty.’ What does Monsieur Bracieux care, think you, whether I am thirsty or not?”
+
+“’Tis a very expensive wine,” said Blaisois, shaking his head.
+
+“Were it liquid gold, Monsieur Blaisois, our masters would not deny themselves this wine. Know that Monsieur de Bracieux is rich enough to drink a tun of port wine, even if obliged to pay a pistole for every drop.” His manner became more and more lofty every instant; then he arose and after finishing off the beer at one draught he advanced majestically to the door of the compartment where the wine was. “Ah! locked!” he exclaimed; “these devils of English, how suspicious they are!”
+
+“Locked!” said Blaisois; “ah! the deuce it is; unlucky, for my stomach is getting more and more upset.”
+
+“Locked!” repeated Mousqueton.
+
+“But,” Blaisois ventured to say, “I have heard you relate, Monsieur Mousqueton, that once on a time, at Chantilly, you fed your master and yourself by taking partridges in a snare, carp with a line, and bottles with a slipnoose.”
+
+“Perfectly true; but there was an airhole in the cellar and the wine was in bottles. I cannot throw the loop through this partition nor move with a pack-thread a cask of wine which may perhaps weigh two hundred pounds.”
+
+“No, but you can take out two or three boards of the partition,” answered Blaisois, “and make a hole in the cask with a gimlet.”
+
+Mousqueton opened his great round eyes to the utmost, astonished to find in Blaisois qualities for which he did not give him credit.
+
+“’Tis true,” he said; “but where can I get a chisel to take the planks out, a gimlet to pierce the cask?”
+
+“Trousers,” said Grimaud, still squaring his accounts.
+
+“Ah, yes!” said Mousqueton.
+
+Grimaud, in fact, was not only the accountant, but the armorer of the party; and as he was a man full of forethought, these trousers, carefully rolled up in his valise, contained every sort of tool for immediate use.
+
+Mousqueton, therefore, was soon provided with tools and he began his task. In a few minutes he had extracted three boards. He tried to pass his body through the aperture, but not being like the frog in the fable, who thought he was larger than he really was, he found he must take out three or four more before he could get through.
+
+He sighed and set to work again.
+
+Grimaud had now finished his accounts. He arose and stood near Mousqueton.
+
+“I,” he said.
+
+“What?” said Mousqueton.
+
+“I can pass.”
+
+“That is true,” said Mousqueton, glancing at his friend’s long and thin body, “you will pass easily.”
+
+“And he knows the full casks,” said Blaisois, “for he has already been in the hold with Monsieur le Chevalier d’Artagnan. Let Monsieur Grimaud go in, Monsieur Mouston.”
+
+“I could go in as well as Grimaud,” said Mousqueton, a little piqued.
+
+“Yes, but that would take too much time and I am thirsty. I am getting more and more seasick.”
+
+“Go in, then, Grimaud,” said Mousqueton, handing him the beer pot and gimlet.
+
+“Rinse the glasses,” said Grimaud. Then with a friendly gesture toward Mousqueton, that he might forgive him for finishing an enterprise so brilliantly begun by another, he glided like a serpent through the opening and disappeared.
+
+Blaisois was in a state of great excitement; he was in ecstasies. Of all the exploits performed since their arrival in England by the extraordinary men with whom he had the honor to be associated, this seemed without question to be the most wonderful.
+
+“You are about to see,” said Mousqueton, looking at Blaisois with an expression of superiority which the latter did not even think of questioning, “you are about to see, Blaisois, how we old soldiers drink when we are thirsty.”
+
+“My cloak,” said Grimaud, from the bottom of the hold.
+
+“What do you want?” asked Blaisois.
+
+“My cloak — stop up the aperture with it.”
+
+“Why?” asked Blaisois.
+
+“Simpleton!” exclaimed Mousqueton; “suppose any one came into the room.”
+
+“Ah, true,” cried Blaisois, with evident admiration; “but it will be dark in the cellar.”
+
+“Grimaud always sees, dark or light, night as well as day,” answered Mousqueton.
+
+“That is lucky,” said Blaisois. “As for me, when I have no candle I can’t take two steps without knocking against something.”
+
+“That’s because you haven’t served,” said Mousqueton. “Had you been in the army you would have been able to pick up a needle on the floor of a closed oven. But hark! I think some one is coming.”
+
+Mousqueton made, with a low whistling sound, the sign of alarm well known to the lackeys in the days of their youth, resumed his place at the table and made a sign to Blaisois to follow his example.
+
+Blaisois obeyed.
+
+The door of their cabin was opened. Two men, wrapped in their cloaks, appeared.
+
+“Oho!” said they, “not in bed at a quarter past eleven. That’s against all rules. In a quarter of an hour let every one be in bed and snoring.”
+
+These two men then went toward the compartment in which Grimaud was secreted; opened the door, entered and shut it after them.
+
+“Ah!” cried Blaisois, “he is lost!”
+
+“Grimaud’s a cunning fellow,” murmured Mousqueton.
+
+They waited for ten minutes, during which time no noise was heard that might indicate that Grimaud was discovered, and at the expiration of that anxious interval the two men returned, closed the door after them, and repeating their orders that the servants should go to bed and extinguish their lights, disappeared.
+
+“Shall we obey?” asked Blaisois. “All this looks suspicious.”
+
+“They said a quarter of an hour. We still have five minutes,” replied Mousqueton.
+
+“Suppose we warn the masters.”
+
+“Let’s wait for Grimaud.”
+
+“But perhaps they have killed him.”
+
+“Grimaud would have cried out.”
+
+“You know he is almost dumb.”
+
+“We should have heard the blow, then.”
+
+“But if he doesn’t return?”
+
+“Here he is.”
+
+At that very moment Grimaud drew back the cloak which hid the aperture and came in with his face livid, his eyes staring wide open with terror, so that the pupils were contracted almost to nothing, with a large circle of white around them. He held in his hand a tankard full of a dark substance, and approaching the gleam of light shed by the lamp he uttered this single monosyllable: “Oh!” with such an expression of extreme terror that Mousqueton started, alarmed, and Blaisois was near fainting from fright.
+
+Both, however, cast an inquisitive glance into the tankard — it was full of gunpowder.
+
+Convinced that the ship was full of powder instead of having a cargo of wine, Grimaud hastened to awake D’Artagnan, who had no sooner beheld him than he perceived that something extraordinary had taken place. Imposing silence, Grimaud put out the little night lamp, then knelt down and poured into the lieutenant’s ear a recital melodramatic enough not to require play of feature to give it pith.
+
+This was the gist of his strange story:
+
+The first barrel that Grimaud had found on passing into the compartment he struck — it was empty. He passed on to another — it, also, was empty, but the third which he tried was, from the dull sound it gave out, evidently full. At this point Grimaud stopped and was preparing to make a hole with his gimlet, when he found a spigot; he therefore placed his tankard under it and turned the spout; something, whatever it was the cask contained, fell silently into the tankard.
+
+Whilst he was thinking that he should first taste the liquor which the tankard contained before taking it to his companions, the door of the cellar opened and a man with a lantern in his hands and enveloped in a cloak, came and stood just before the hogshead, behind which Grimaud, on hearing him come in, instantly crept. This was Groslow. He was accompanied by another man, who carried in his hand something long and flexible rolled up, resembling a washing line. His face was hidden under the wide brim of his hat. Grimaud, thinking that they had come, as he had, to try the port wine, effaced himself behind his cask and consoled himself with the reflection that if he were discovered the crime was not a great one.
+
+“Have you the wick?” asked the one who carried the lantern.
+
+“Here it is,” answered the other.
+
+At the voice of this last speaker, Grimaud started and felt a shudder creeping through his very marrow. He rose gently, so that his head was just above the round of the barrel, and under the large hat he recognized the pale face of Mordaunt.
+
+“How long will this fuse burn?” asked this person.
+
+“About five minutes,” replied the captain.
+
+That voice also was known to Grimaud. He looked from one to the other and after Mordaunt he recognized Groslow.
+
+“Then tell the men to be in readiness — don’t tell them why now. When the clock strikes a quarter after midnight collect your men. Get down into the longboat.”
+
+“That is, when I have lighted the match?”
+
+“I will undertake that. I wish to be sure of my revenge. Are the oars in the boat?”
+
+“Everything is ready.”
+
+“’Tis well.”
+
+Mordaunt knelt down and fastened one end of the train to the spigot, in order that he might have nothing to do but to set it on fire at the opposite end with the match.
+
+He then arose.
+
+“You hear me — at a quarter past midnight — in fact, in twenty minutes.”
+
+“I understand all perfectly, sir,” replied Groslow; “but allow me to say there is great danger in what you undertake; would it not be better to intrust one of the men to set fire to the train?”
+
+“My dear Groslow,” answered Mordaunt, “you know the French proverb, ‘Nothing one does not do one’s self is ever well done.’ I shall abide by that rule.”
+
+Grimaud had heard all this, if he had not understood it. But what he saw made good what he lacked in perfect comprehension of the language. He had seen the two mortal enemies of the musketeers, had seen Mordaunt adjust the fuse; he had heard the proverb, which Mordaunt had given in French. Then he felt and felt again the contents of the tankard he held in his hand; and, instead of the lively liquor expected by Blaisois and Mousqueton, he found beneath his fingers the grains of some coarse powder.
+
+Mordaunt went away with the captain. At the door he stopped to listen.
+
+“Do you hear how they sleep?” he asked.
+
+In fact, Porthos could be heard snoring through the partition.
+
+“’Tis God who gives them into our hands,” answered Groslow.
+
+“This time the devil himself shall not save them,” rejoined Mordaunt.
+
+And they went out together.
+
+Chapter LXXII. End of the Port Wine Mystery.
+
+Grimaud waited till he heard the bolt grind in the lock and when he was satisfied that he was alone he slowly rose from his recumbent posture.
+
+“Ah!” he said, wiping with his sleeve large drops of sweat from his forehead, “how lucky it was that Mousqueton was thirsty!”
+
+He made haste to pass out by the opening, still thinking himself in a dream; but the sight of the gunpowder in the tankard proved to him that his dream was a fatal nightmare.
+
+It may be imagined that D’Artagnan listened to these details with increasing interest; before Grimaud had finished he rose without noise and putting his mouth to Aramis’s ear, and at the same time touching him on the shoulder to prevent a sudden movement:
+
+“Chevalier,” he said, “get up and don’t make the least noise.”
+
+Aramis awoke. D’Artagnan, pressing his hand, repeated his call. Aramis obeyed.
+
+“Athos is near you,” said D’Artagnan; “warn him as I have warned you.”
+
+Aramis easily aroused Athos, whose sleep was light, like that of all persons of a finely organized constitution. But there was more difficulty in arousing Porthos. He was beginning to ask full explanation of that breaking in on his sleep, which was very annoying to him, when D’Artagnan, instead of explaining, closed his mouth with his hand.
+
+Then our Gascon, extending his arms, drew to him the heads of his three friends till they almost touched one another.
+
+“Friends,” he said, “we must leave this craft at once or we are dead men.”
+
+“Bah!” said Athos, “are you still afraid?”
+
+“Do you know who is captain of this vessel?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Captain Groslow.”
+
+The shudder of the three musketeers showed to D’Artagnan that his words began to make some impression on them.
+
+“Groslow!” said Aramis; “the devil!
+
+“Who is this Groslow?” asked Porthos. “I don’t remember him.”
+
+“Groslow is the man who broke Parry’s head and is now getting ready to break ours.”
+
+“Oh! oh!”
+
+“And do you know who is his lieutenant?”
+
+“His lieutenant? There is none,” said Athos. “They don’t have lieutenants in a felucca manned by a crew of four.”
+
+“Yes, but Monsieur Groslow is not a captain of the ordinary kind; he has a lieutenant, and that lieutenant is Monsieur Mordaunt.”
+
+This time the musketeers did more than shudder — they almost cried out. Those invincible men were subject to a mysterious and fatal influence which that name had over them; the mere sound of it filled them with terror.
+
+“What shall we do?” said Athos.
+
+“We must seize the felucca,” said Aramis.
+
+“And kill him,” said Porthos.
+
+“The felucca is mined,” said D’Artagnan. “Those casks which I took for casks of port wine are filled with powder. When Mordaunt finds himself discovered he will destroy all, friends and foes; and on my word he would be bad company in going either to Heaven or to hell.”
+
+“You have some plan, then?” asked Athos.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Have you confidence in me?”
+
+“Give your orders,” said the three musketeers.
+
+“Very well; come this way.”
+
+D’Artagnan went toward a very small, low window, just large enough to let a man through. He turned it gently on its hinges.
+
+“There,” he said, “is our road.”
+
+“The deuce! it is a very cold one, my dear friend,” said Aramis.
+
+“Stay here, if you like, but I warn you ’twill be rather too warm presently.”
+
+“But we cannot swim to the shore.”
+
+“The longboat is yonder, lashed to the felucca. We will take possession of it and cut the cable. Come, my friends.”
+
+“A moment’s delay,” said Athos; “our servants?”
+
+“Here we are!” they cried.
+
+Meantime the three friends were standing motionless before the awful sight which D’Artagnan, in raising the shutters, had disclosed to them through the narrow opening of the window.
+
+Those who have once beheld such a spectacle know that there is nothing more solemn, more striking, than the raging sea, rolling, with its deafening roar, its dark billows beneath the pale light of a wintry moon.
+
+“Gracious Heaven, we are hesitating!” cried D’Artagnan; “if we hesitate what will the servants do?”
+
+“I do not hesitate, you know,” said Grimaud.
+
+“Sir,” interposed Blaisois, “I warn you that I can only swim in rivers.”
+
+“And I not at all,” said Mousqueton.
+
+But D’Artagnan had now slipped through the window.
+
+“You have decided, friend?” said Athos.
+
+“Yes,” the Gascon answered; “Athos! you, who are a perfect being, bid spirit triumph over body. Do you, Aramis, order the servants. Porthos, kill every one who stands in your way.”
+
+And after pressing the hand of Athos, D’Artagnan chose a moment when the ship rolled backward, so that he had only to plunge into the water, which was already up to his waist.
+
+Athos followed him before the felucca rose again on the waves; the cable which tied the boat to the vessel was then seen plainly rising out of the sea.
+
+D’Artagnan swam to it and held it, suspending himself by this rope, his head alone out of water.
+
+In one second Athos joined him.
+
+Then they saw, as the felucca turned, two other heads peeping, those of Aramis and Grimaud.
+
+“I am uneasy about Blaisois,” said Athos; “he can, he says, only swim in rivers.”
+
+“When people can swim at all they can swim anywhere. To the boat! to the boat!”
+
+“But Porthos, I do not see him.”
+
+“Porthos is coming — he swims like Leviathan.”
+
+In fact, Porthos did not appear; for a scene, half tragedy and half comedy, had been performed by him with Mousqueton and Blaisois, who, frightened by the noise of the sea, by the whistling of the wind, by the sight of that dark water yawning like a gulf beneath them, shrank back instead of going forward.
+
+“Come, come!” said Porthos; “jump in.”
+
+“But, monsieur,” said Mousqueton, “I can’t swim; let me stay here.”
+
+“And me, too, monsieur,” said Blaisois.
+
+“I assure you, I shall be very much in the way in that little boat,” said Mousqueton.
+
+“And I know I shall drown before reaching it,” continued Blaisois.
+
+“Come along! I shall strangle you both if you don’t get out,” said Porthos at last, seizing Mousqueton by the throat. “Forward, Blaisois!”
+
+A groan, stifled by the grasp of Porthos, was all the reply of poor Blaisois, for the giant, taking him neck and heels, plunged him into the water headforemost, pushing him out of the window as if he had been a plank.
+
+“Now, Mousqueton,” he said, “I hope you don’t mean to desert your master?”
+
+“Ah, sir,” replied Mousqueton, his eyes filling with tears, “why did you re-enter the army? We were all so happy in the Chateau de Pierrefonds!”
+
+And without any other complaint, passive and obedient, either from true devotion to his master or from the example set by Blaisois, Mousqueton leaped into the sea headforemost. A sublime action, at all events, for Mousqueton looked upon himself as dead. But Porthos was not a man to abandon an old servant, and when Mousqueton rose above the water, blind as a new-born puppy, he found he was supported by the large hand of Porthos and that he was thus enabled, without having occasion even to move, to advance toward the cable with the dignity of a very triton.
+
+In a few minutes Porthos had rejoined his companions, who were already in the boat; but when, after they had all got in, it came to his turn, there was great danger that in putting his huge leg over the edge of the boat he would upset the little vessel. Athos was the last to enter.
+
+“Are you all here?” he asked.
+
+“Ah! have you your sword, Athos?” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Cut the cable, then.”
+
+Athos drew a sharp poniard from his belt and cut the cord. The felucca went on, the boat continued stationary, rocked only by the swashing waves.
+
+“Come, Athos!” said D’Artagnan, giving his hand to the count; “you are going to see something curious,” added the Gascon.
+
+Chapter LXIII. Fatality.
+
+Scarcely had D’Artagnan uttered these words when a ringing and sudden noise was heard resounding through the felucca, which had now become dim in the obscurity of the night.
+
+“That, you may be sure,” said the Gascon, “means something.”
+
+They then at the same instant perceived a large lantern carried on a pole appear on the deck, defining the forms of shadows behind it.
+
+Suddenly a terrible cry, a cry of despair, was wafted through space; and as if the shrieks of anguish had driven away the clouds, the veil which hid the moon was cleated away and the gray sails and dark shrouds of the felucca were plainly visible beneath the silvery light.
+
+Shadows ran, as if bewildered, to and fro on the vessel, and mournful cries accompanied these delirious walkers. In the midst of these screams they saw Mordaunt upon the poop with a torch in hand.
+
+The agitated figures, apparently wild with terror, consisted of Groslow, who at the hour fixed by Mordaunt had collected his men and the sailors. Mordaunt, after having listened at the door of the cabin to hear if the musketeers were still asleep, had gone down into the cellar, convinced by their silence that they were all in a deep slumber. Then he had run to the train, impetuous as a man who is excited by revenge, and full of confidence, as are those whom God blinds, he had set fire to the wick of nitre.
+
+All this while Groslow and his men were assembled on deck.
+
+“Haul up the cable and draw the boat to us,” said Groslow.
+
+One of the sailors got down the side of the ship, seized the cable, and drew it; it came without the least resistance.
+
+“The cable is cut!” he cried, “no boat!”
+
+“How! no boat!” exclaimed Groslow; “it is impossible.”
+
+“’Tis true, however,” answered the sailor; “there’s nothing in the wake of the ship; besides, here’s the end of the cable.”
+
+“What’s the matter?” cried Mordaunt, who, coming up out of the hatchway, rushed to the stern, waving his torch.
+
+“Only that our enemies have escaped; they have cut the cord and gone off with the boat.”
+
+Mordaunt bounded with one step to the cabin and kicked open the door.
+
+“Empty!” he exclaimed; “the infernal demons!”
+
+“We must pursue them,” said Groslow, “they can’t be gone far, and we will sink them, passing over them.”
+
+“Yes, but the fire,” ejaculated Mordaunt; “I have lighted it.”
+
+“Ten thousand devils!” cried Groslow, rushing to the hatchway; “perhaps there is still time to save us.”
+
+Mordaunt answered only by a terrible laugh, threw his torch into the sea and plunged in after it. The instant Groslow put his foot upon the hatchway steps the ship opened like the crater of a volcano. A burst of flame rose toward the skies with an explosion like that of a hundred cannon; the air burned, ignited by flaming embers, then the frightful lightning disappeared, the brands sank, one after another, into the abyss, where they were extinguished, and save for a slight vibration in the air, after a few minutes had elapsed one would have thought that nothing had happened.
+
+Only — the felucca had disappeared from the surface of the sea and Groslow and his three sailors were consumed.
+
+The four friends saw all this — not a single detail of this fearful scene escaped them. At one moment, bathed as they were in a flood of brilliant light, which illumined the sea for the space of a league, they might each be seen, each by his own peculiar attitude and manner expressing the awe which, even in their hearts of bronze, they could not help experiencing. Soon a torrent of vivid sparks fell around them — then, at last, the volcano was extinguished — then all was dark and still — the floating bark and heaving ocean.
+
+They sat silent and dejected.
+
+“By Heaven!” at last said Athos, the first to speak, “by this time, I think, all must be over.”
+
+“Here, my lords! save me! help!” cried a voice, whose mournful accents, reaching the four friends, seemed to proceed from some phantom of the ocean.
+
+All looked around; Athos himself stared.
+
+“’Tis he! it is his voice!”
+
+All still remained silent, the eyes of all were turned in the direction where the vessel had disappeared, endeavoring in vain to penetrate the darkness. After a minute or two they were able to distinguish a man, who approached them, swimming vigorously.
+
+Athos extended his arm toward him, pointing him out to his companions.
+
+“Yes, yes, I see him well enough,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“He — again!” cried Porthos, who was breathing like a blacksmith’s bellows; “why, he is made of iron.”
+
+“Oh, my God!” muttered Athos.
+
+Aramis and D’Artagnan whispered to each other.
+
+Mordaunt made several strokes more, and raising his arm in sign of distress above the waves: “Pity, pity on me, gentlemen, in Heaven’s name! my strength is failing me; I am dying.”
+
+The voice that implored aid was so piteous that it awakened pity in the heart of Athos.
+
+“Poor fellow!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Indeed!” said D’Artagnan, “monsters have only to complain to gain your sympathy. I believe he’s swimming toward us. Does he think we are going to take him in? Row, Porthos, row.” And setting the example he plowed his oar into the sea; two strokes took the bark on twenty fathoms further.
+
+“Oh! you will not abandon me! You will not leave me to perish! You will not be pitiless!” cried Mordaunt.
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Porthos to Mordaunt, “I think we have you now, my hero! and there are no doors by which you can escape this time but those of hell.”
+
+“Oh! Porthos!” murmured the Comte de la Fere.
+
+“Oh, pray, for mercy’s sake, don’t fly from me. For pity’s sake!” cried the young man, whose agony-drawn breath at times, when his head went under water, under the wave, exhaled and made the icy waters bubble.
+
+D’Artagnan, however, who had consulted with Aramis, spoke to the poor wretch. “Go away,” he said; “your repentance is too recent to inspire confidence. See! the vessel in which you wished to fry us is still smoking; and the situation in which you are is a bed of roses compared to that in which you wished to place us and in which you have placed Monsieur Groslow and his companions.”
+
+“Sir!” replied Mordaunt, in a tone of deep despair, “my penitence is sincere. Gentlemen, I am young, scarcely twenty-three years old. I was drawn on by a very natural resentment to avenge my mother. You would have done what I did.”
+
+Mordaunt wanted now only two or three fathoms to reach the boat, for the approach of death seemed to give him supernatural strength.
+
+“Alas!” he said, “I am then to die? You are going to kill the son, as you killed the mother! Surely, if I am culpable and if I ask for pardon, I ought to be forgiven.”
+
+Then, as if his strength failed him, he seemed unable to sustain himself above the water and a wave passed over his head, which drowned his voice.
+
+“Oh! this is torture to me,” cried Athos.
+
+Mordaunt reappeared.
+
+“For my part,” said D’Artagnan, “I say this must come to an end; murderer, as you were, of your uncle! executioner, as you were, of King Charles! incendiary! I recommend you to sink forthwith to the bottom of the sea; and if you come another fathom nearer, I’ll stave your wicked head in with this oar.”
+
+“D’Artagnan! D’Artagnan!” cried Athos, “my son, I entreat you; the wretch is dying, and it is horrible to let a man die without extending a hand to save him. I cannot resist doing so; he must live.”
+
+“Zounds!” replied D’Artagnan, “why don’t you give yourself up directly, feet and hands bound, to that wretch? Ah! Comte de la Fere, you wish to perish by his hands! I, your son, as you call me — I will not let you!”
+
+’Twas the first time D’Artagnan had ever refused a request from Athos.
+
+Aramis calmly drew his sword, which he had carried between his teeth as he swam.
+
+“If he lays his hand on the boat’s edge I will cut it off, regicide that he is.”
+
+“And I,” said Porthos. “Wait.”
+
+“What are you going to do?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Throw myself in the water and strangle him.”
+
+“Oh, gentlemen!” cried Athos, “be men! be Christians! See! death is depicted on his face! Ah! do not bring on me the horrors of remorse! Grant me this poor wretch’s life. I will bless you — I — — ”
+
+“I am dying!” cried Mordaunt, “come to me! come to me!”
+
+D’Artagnan began to be touched. The boat at this moment turned around, and the dying man was by that turn brought nearer Athos.
+
+“Monsieur the Comte de la Fere,” he cried, “I supplicate you! pity me! I call on you — where are you? I see you no longer — I am dying — help me! help me!”
+
+“Here I am, sir!” said Athos, leaning and stretching out his arm to Mordaunt with that air of dignity and nobility of soul habitual to him; “here I am, take my hand and jump into our boat.”
+
+Mordaunt made a last effort — rose — seized the hand thus extended to him and grasped it with the vehemence of despair.
+
+“That’s right,” said Athos; “put your other hand here.” And he offered him his shoulder as another stay and support, so that his head almost touched that of Mordaunt; and these two mortal enemies were in as close an embrace as if they had been brothers.
+
+“Now, sir,” said the count, “you are safe — calm yourself.”
+
+“Ah! my mother,” cried Mordaunt, with eyes on fire with a look of hate impossible to paint, “I can only offer thee one victim, but it shall at any rate be the one thou wouldst thyself have chosen!”
+
+And whilst D’Artagnan uttered a cry, Porthos raised the oar, and Aramis sought a place to strike, a frightful shake given to the boat precipitated Athos into the sea; whilst Mordaunt, with a shout of triumph, grasped the neck of his victim, and in order to paralyze his movements, twined arms and legs around the musketeer. For an instant, without an exclamation, without a cry for help, Athos tried to sustain himself on the surface of the waters, but the weight dragged him down; he disappeared by degrees; soon nothing was to be seen except his long, floating hair; then both men disappeared and the bubbling of the water, which, in its turn, was soon effaced, alone indicated the spot where these two had sunk.
+
+Mute with horror, the three friends had remained open-mouthed, their eyes dilated, their arms extended like statues, and, motionless as they were, the beating of their hearts was audible. Porthos was the first who came to himself. He tore his hair.
+
+“Oh!” he cried, “Athos! Athos! thou man of noble heart; woe is me! I have let thee perish!”
+
+At this instant, in the midst of the silver circle illumined by the light of the moon the same whirlpool which had been made by the sinking men was again obvious, and first were seen, rising above the waves, a wisp of hair, then a pale face with open eyes, yet, nevertheless, the eyes of death; then a body, which, after rising of itself even to the waist above the sea, turned gently on its back, according to the caprice of the waves, and floated.
+
+In the bosom of this corpse was plunged a poniard, the gold hilt of which shone in the moonbeams.
+
+“Mordaunt! Mordaunt!” cried the three friends; “’tis Mordaunt!”
+
+“But Athos!” exclaimed D’Artagnan.
+
+Suddenly the boat leaned on one side beneath a new and unexpected weight and Grimaud uttered a shout of joy; every one turned around and beheld Athos, livid, his eyes dim and his hands trembling, supporting himself on the edge of the boat. Eight vigorous arms lifted him up immediately and laid him in the boat, where directly Athos was warmed and reanimated, reviving with the caresses and cares of his friends, who were intoxicated with joy.
+
+“You are not hurt?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“No,” replied Athos; “and he — — ”
+
+“Oh, he! now we may say at last, thank Heaven! he is really dead. Look!” and D’Artagnan, obliging Athos to look in the direction he pointed, showed him the body of Mordaunt floating on its back, which, sometimes submerged, sometimes rising, seemed still to pursue the four friends with looks of insult and mortal hatred.
+
+At last he sank. Athos had followed him with a glance in which the deepest melancholy and pity were expressed.
+
+“Bravo! Athos!” cried Aramis, with an emotion very rare in him.
+
+“A capital blow you gave!” cried Porthos.
+
+“I have a son. I wished to live,” said Athos.
+
+“In short,” said D’Artagnan, “this has been the will of God.”
+
+“It was not I who killed him,” said Athos in a soft, low tone, “’twas destiny.”
+
+Chapter LXIV. How Mousqueton had a Narrow Escape of being eaten.
+
+A deep silence reigned for a long time in the boat after the fearful scene described.
+
+The moon, which had shone for a short time, disappeared behind the clouds; every object was again plunged in the obscurity that is so awful in the deserts and still more so in that liquid desert, the ocean, and nothing was heard save the whistling of the west wind driving along the tops of the crested billows.
+
+Porthos was the first to speak.
+
+“I have seen,” he said, “many dreadful things, but nothing that ever agitated me so much as what I have just witnessed. Nevertheless, even in my present state of perturbation, I protest that I feel happy. I have a hundred pounds’ weight less upon my chest. I breathe more freely.” In fact, Porthos breathed so loud as to do credit to the free play of his powerful lungs.
+
+“For my part,” observed Aramis, “I cannot say the same as you do, Porthos. I am still terrified to such a degree that I scarcely believe my eyes. I look around the boat, expecting every moment to see that poor wretch holding between his hands the poniard plunged into his heart.”
+
+“Oh! I feel easy,” replied Porthos. “The poniard was pointed at the sixth rib and buried up to the hilt in his body. I do not reproach you, Athos, for what you have done. On the contrary, when one aims a blow that is the regulation way to strike. So now, I breathe again — I am happy!”
+
+“Don’t be in haste to celebrate a victory, Porthos,” interposed D’Artagnan; “never have we incurred a greater danger than we are now encountering. Men may subdue men — they cannot overcome the elements. We are now on the sea, at night, without any pilot, in a frail bark; should a blast of wind upset the boat we are lost.”
+
+Mousqueton heaved a deep sigh.
+
+“You are ungrateful, D’Artagnan,” said Athos; “yes, ungrateful to Providence, to whom we owe our safety in the most miraculous manner. Let us sail before the wind, and unless it changes we shall be drifted either to Calais or Boulogne. Should our bark be upset we are five of us good swimmers, able enough to turn it over again, or if not, to hold on by it. Now we are on the very road which all the vessels between Dover and Calais take, ’tis impossible but that we should meet with a fisherman who will pick us up.”
+
+“But should we not find any fisherman and should the wind shift to the north?”
+
+“That,” said Athos, “would be quite another thing; and we should nevermore see land until we were upon the other side of the Atlantic.”
+
+“Which implies that we may die of hunger,” said Aramis.
+
+“’Tis more than possible,” answered the Comte de la Fere.
+
+Mousqueton sighed again, more deeply than before.
+
+“What is the matter? what ails you?” asked Porthos.
+
+“I am cold, sir,” said Mousqueton.
+
+“Impossible! your body is covered with a coating of fat which preserves it from the cold air.”
+
+“Ah! sir, ’tis this very coating of fat that makes me shiver.”
+
+“How is that, Mousqueton?
+
+“Alas! your honor, in the library of the Chateau of Bracieux there are a lot of books of travels.”
+
+“What then?”
+
+“Amongst them the voyages of Jean Mocquet in the time of Henry IV.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“In these books, your honor, ’tis told how hungry voyagers, drifting out to sea, have a bad habit of eating each other and beginning with — — ”
+
+“The fattest among them!” cried D’Artagnan, unable in spite of the gravity of the occasion to help laughing.
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered Mousqueton; “but permit me to say I see nothing laughable in it. However,” he added, turning to Porthos, “I should not regret dying, sir, were I sure that by doing so I might still be useful to you.”
+
+“Mouston,” replied Porthos, much affected, “should we ever see my castle of Pierrefonds again you shall have as your own and for your descendants the vineyard that surrounds the farm.”
+
+“And you should call it ‘Devotion,’” added Aramis; “the vineyard of self-sacrifice, to transmit to latest ages the recollection of your devotion to your master.”
+
+“Chevalier,” said D’Artagnan, laughing, “you could eat a piece of Mouston, couldn’t you, especially after two or three days of fasting?”
+
+“Oh, no,” replied Aramis, “I should much prefer Blaisois; we haven’t known him so long.”
+
+One may readily conceive that during these jokes which were intended chiefly to divert Athos from the scene which had just taken place, the servants, with the exception of Grimaud, were not silent. Suddenly Mousqueton uttered a cry of delight, taking from beneath one of the benches a bottle of wine; and on looking more closely in the same place he discovered a dozen similar bottles, bread, and a monster junk of salted beef.
+
+“Oh, sir!” he cried, passing the bottle to Porthos, “we are saved — the bark is supplied with provisions.”
+
+This intelligence restored every one save Athos to gayety.
+
+“Zounds!” exclaimed Porthos, “’tis astonishing how empty violent agitation makes the stomach.”
+
+And he drank off half a bottle at a draught and bit great mouthfuls of the bread and meat.
+
+“Now,” said Athos, “sleep, or try to sleep, my friends, and I will watch.”
+
+In a few moments, notwithstanding their wet clothes, the icy blast that blew and the previous scene of terror, these hardy adventurers, with their iron frames, inured to every hardship, threw themselves down, intending to profit by the advice of Athos, who sat at the helm, pensively wakeful, guiding the little bark the way it was to go, his eyes fixed on the heavens, as if he sought to verify not only the road to France, but the benign aspect of protecting Providence. After some hours of repose the sleepers were aroused by Athos.
+
+Dawn was shedding its pallid, placid glimmer on the purple ocean, when at the distance of a musket shot from them was seen a dark gray mass, above which gleamed a triangular sail; then masters and servants joined in a fervent cry to the crew of that vessel to hear them and to save.
+
+“A bark!” all cried together.
+
+It was, in fact, a small craft from Dunkirk bound for Boulogne.
+
+A quarter of an hour afterward the rowboat of this craft took them all aboard. Grimaud tendered twenty guineas to the captain, and at nine o’clock in the morning, having a fair wind, our Frenchmen set foot on their native land.
+
+“Egad! how strong one feels here!” said Porthos, almost burying his large feet in the sands. “Zounds! I could defy a nation!”
+
+“Be quiet, Porthos,” said D’Artagnan, “we are observed.”
+
+“We are admired, i’faith,” answered Porthos.
+
+“These people who are looking at us are only merchants,” said Athos, “and are looking more at the cargo than at us.”
+
+“I shall not trust to that,” said the lieutenant, “and I shall make for the Dunes* as soon as possible.”
+
+* Sandy hills about Dunkirk, from which it derives its name.
+
+The party followed him and soon disappeared with him behind the hillocks of sand unobserved. Here, after a short conference, they proposed to separate.
+
+“And why separate?” asked Athos.
+
+“Because,” answered the Gascon, “we were sent, Porthos and I, by Cardinal Mazarin to fight for Cromwell; instead of fighting for Cromwell we have served Charles I. — not the same thing by any means. In returning with the Comte de la Fere and Monsieur d’Herblay our crime would be confirmed. We have circumvented Cromwell, Mordaunt, and the sea, but we shall find a certain difficulty in circumventing Mazarin.”
+
+“You forget,” replied Athos, “that we consider ourselves your prisoners and not free from the engagement we entered into.”
+
+“Truly, Athos,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “I am vexed that such a man as you are should talk nonsense which schoolboys would be ashamed of. Chevalier,” he continued, addressing Aramis, who, leaning proudly on his sword, seemed to agree with his companion, “Chevalier, Porthos and I run no risk; besides, should any ill-luck happen to two of us, will it not be much better that the other two should be spared to assist those who may be apprehended? Besides, who knows whether, divided, we may not obtain a pardon — you from the queen, we from Mazarin — which, were we all four together, would never be granted. Come, Athos and Aramis, go to the right; Porthos, come with me to the left; these gentlemen should file off into Normandy, whilst we, by the nearest road, reach Paris.”
+
+He then gave his friends minute directions as to their route.
+
+“Ah! my dear friend,” exclaimed Athos, “how I should admire the resources of your mind did I not stop to adore those of your heart.”
+
+And he gave him his hand.
+
+“Isn’t this fox a genius, Athos?” asked the Gascon. “No! he knows how to crunch fowls, to dodge the huntsman and to find his way home by day or by night, that’s all. Well, is all said?”
+
+“All.”
+
+“Then let’s count our money and divide it. Ah! hurrah! there’s the sun! A merry morning to you, Sunshine. ’Tis a long time since I saw thee!”
+
+“Come, come, D’Artagnan,” said Athos, “do not affect to be strong-minded; there are tears in your eyes. Let us be open with each other and sincere.”
+
+“What!” cried the Gascon, “do you think, Athos, we can take leave, calmly, of two friends at a time not free from danger to you and Aramis?”
+
+“No,” answered Athos; “embrace me, my son.”
+
+“Zounds!” said Porthos, sobbing, “I believe I’m crying; but how foolish all this is!”
+
+Then they embraced. At that moment their fraternal bond of union was closer than ever, and when they parted, each to take the route agreed on, they turned back to utter affectionate expressions, which the echoes of the Dunes repeated. At last they lost sight of each other.
+
+“Sacrebleu! D’Artagnan,” said Porthos, “I must out with it at once, for I can’t keep to myself anything I have against you; I haven’t been able to recognize you in this matter.”
+
+“Why not?” said D’Artagnan, with his wise smile.
+
+“Because if, as you say, Athos and Aramis are in real danger, this is not the time to abandon them. For my part, I confess to you that I was all ready to follow them and am still ready to rejoin them, in spite of all the Mazarins in the world.”
+
+“You would be right, Porthos, but for one thing, which may change the current of your ideas; and that is, that it is not those gentlemen who are in the greatest danger, it is ourselves; it is not to abandon them that we have separated, but to avoid compromising them.”
+
+“Really?” said Porthos, opening his eyes in astonishment.
+
+“Yes, no doubt. If they are arrested they will only be put in the Bastile; if we are arrested it is a matter of the Place de Greve.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” said Porthos, “there is quite a gap between that fate and the baronial coronet you promised me, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Bah! perhaps not so great as you think, Porthos; you know the proverb, ‘All roads lead to Rome.’”
+
+“But how is it that we are incurring greater risks than Athos and Aramis?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Because they have but fulfilled the mission confided to them by Queen Henrietta and we have betrayed that confided to us by Mazarin; because, going hence as emissaries to Cromwell, we became partisans of King Charles; because, instead of helping cut off the royal head condemned by those fellows called Mazarin, Cromwell, Joyce, Bridge, Fairfax, etc., we very nearly succeeded in saving it.”
+
+“Upon my word that is true,” said Porthos; “but how can you suppose, my dear friend, that in the midst of his great preoccupations General Cromwell has had time to think — — ”
+
+“Cromwell thinks of everything; Cromwell has time for everything; and believe me, dear friend, we ought not to lose our time — it is precious. We shall not be safe till we have seen Mazarin, and then — — ”
+
+“The devil!” said Porthos; “what can we say to Mazarin?”
+
+“Leave that to me — I have my plan. He laughs best who laughs last. Cromwell is mighty, Mazarin is tricky, but I would rather have to do with them than with the late Monsieur Mordaunt.”
+
+“Ah!” said Porthos, “it is very pleasant to be able to say ‘the late Monsieur Mordaunt.’”
+
+“My faith, yes,” said D’Artagnan. “But we must be going.”
+
+The two immediately started across country toward the road to Paris, followed by Mousqueton, who, after being too cold all night, at the end of a quarter of an hour found himself too warm.
+
+Chapter LXXV. The Return.
+
+During the six weeks that Athos and Aramis had been absent from France, the Parisians, finding themselves one morning without either queen or king, were greatly annoyed at being thus deserted, and the absence of Mazarin, a thing so long desired, did not compensate for that of the two august fugitives.
+
+The first feeling that pervaded Paris on hearing of the flight to Saint Germain, was that sort of affright which seizes children when they awake in the night and find themselves alone. A deputation was therefore sent to the queen to entreat her to return to Paris; but she not only declined to receive the deputies, but sent an intimation by Chancellor Seguier, implying that if the parliament did not humble itself before her majesty by negativing all the questions that had been the cause of the quarrel, Paris would be besieged the very next day.
+
+This threatening answer, unluckily for the court, produced quite a different effect to that which was intended. It wounded the pride of the parliament, which, supported by the citizens, replied by declaring that Cardinal Mazarin was the cause of all the discontent; denounced him as the enemy both of the king and the state, and ordered him to retire from the court that same day and from France within a week afterward; enjoining, in case of disobedience on his part, all the subjects of the king to pursue and take him.
+
+Mazarin being thus placed beyond the pale of the protection of the law, preparations on both sides were commenced — by the queen, to attack Paris, by the citizens, to defend it. The latter were occupied in breaking up the pavement and stretching chains across the streets, when, headed by the coadjutor, appeared the Prince de Conti (the brother of the Prince de Condé) and the Duc de Longueville, his brother-in-law. This unexpected band of auxiliaries arrived in Paris on the tenth of January and the Prince of Conti was named, but not until after a stormy discussion, generalissimo of the army of the king, out of Paris.
+
+As for the Duc de Beaufort, he arrived from Vendome, according to the annals of the day, bringing with him his high bearing and his long and beautiful hair, qualifications which gained him the sovereignty of the marketplaces.
+
+The Parisian army had organized with the promptness characteristic of the bourgeois whenever they are moved by any sentiment whatever to disguise themselves as soldiers. On the nineteenth the impromptu army had attempted a sortie, more to assure itself and others of its actual existence than with any more serious intention. They carried a banner, on which could be read this strange device: “We are seeking our king.”
+
+The next following days were occupied in trivial movements which resulted only in the carrying off of a few herds of cattle and the burning of two or three houses.
+
+That was still the situation of affairs up to the early days of February. On the first day of that month our four companions had landed at Boulogne, and, in two parties, had set out for Paris. Toward the end of the fourth day of the journey Athos and Aramis reached Nanterre, which place they cautiously passed by on the outskirts, fearing that they might encounter some troop from the queen’s army.
+
+It was against his will that Athos took these precautions, but Aramis had very judiciously reminded him that they had no right to be imprudent, that they had been charged by King Charles with a supreme and sacred mission, which, received at the foot of the scaffold, could be accomplished only at the feet of Queen Henrietta. Upon that, Athos yielded.
+
+On reaching the capital Athos and Aramis found it in arms. The sentinel at the gate refused even to let them pass, and called his sergeant.
+
+The sergeant, with the air of importance which such people assume when they are clad with military dignity, said:
+
+“Who are you, gentlemen?”
+
+“Two gentlemen.”
+
+“And where do you come from?”
+
+“From London.”
+
+“And what are you going to do in Paris?”
+
+“We are going with a mission to Her Majesty, the Queen of England.”
+
+“Ah, every one seems to be going to see the queen of England. We have already at the station three gentlemen whose passports are under examination, who are on their way to her majesty. Where are your passports?”
+
+“We have none; we left England, ignorant of the state of politics here, having left Paris before the departure of the king.”
+
+“Ah!” said the sergeant, with a cunning smile, “you are Mazarinists, who are sent as spies.”
+
+“My dear friend,” here Athos spoke, “rest assured, if we were Mazarinists we should come well prepared with every sort of passport. In your situation distrust those who are well provided with every formality.”
+
+“Enter the guardroom,” said the sergeant; “we will lay your case before the commandant of the post.”
+
+The guardroom was filled with citizens and common people, some playing, some drinking, some talking. In a corner, almost hidden from view, were three gentlemen, who had preceded Athos and Aramis, and an officer was examining their passports. The first impulse of these three, and of those who last entered, was to cast an inquiring glance at each other. The first arrivals wore long cloaks, in whose drapery they were carefully enveloped; one of them, shorter than the rest, remained pertinaciously in the background.
+
+When the sergeant on entering the room announced that in all probability he was bringing in two Mazarinists, it appeared to be the unanimous opinion of the officers on guard that they ought not to pass.
+
+“Be it so,” said Athos; “yet it is probable, on the contrary, that we shall enter, because we seem to have to do with sensible people. There seems to be only one thing to do, which is, to send our names to Her Majesty the Queen of England, and if she engages to answer for us I presume we shall be allowed to enter.”
+
+On hearing these words the shortest of the other three men seemed more attentive than ever to what was going on, wrapping his cloak around him more carefully than before.
+
+“Merciful goodness!” whispered Aramis to Athos, “did you see?”
+
+“What?” asked Athos.
+
+“The face of the shortest of those three gentlemen?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“He looked to me — but ’tis impossible.”
+
+At this instant the sergeant, who had been for his orders, returned, and pointing to the three gentlemen in cloaks, said:
+
+“The passports are in order; let these three gentlemen pass.”
+
+The three gentlemen bowed and hastened to take advantage of this permission.
+
+Aramis looked after them, and as the last of them passed close to him he pressed the hand of Athos.
+
+“What is the matter with you, my friend?” asked the latter.
+
+“I have — doubtless I am dreaming; tell me, sir,” he said to the sergeant, “do you know those three gentlemen who are just gone out?”
+
+“Only by their passports; they are three Frondists, who are gone to rejoin the Duc de Longueville.”
+
+“’Tis strange,” said Aramis, almost involuntarily; “I fancied that I recognized Mazarin himself.”
+
+The sergeant burst into a fit of laughter.
+
+“He!” he cried; “he venture himself amongst us, to be hung! Not so foolish as all that.”
+
+“Ah!” muttered Athos, “I may be mistaken, I haven’t the unerring eye of D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Who is speaking of Monsieur D’Artagnan?” asked an officer who appeared at that moment upon the threshold of the room.
+
+“What!” cried Aramis and Athos, “what! Planchet!”
+
+“Planchet,” added Grimaud; “Planchet, with a gorget, indeed!”
+
+“Ah, gentlemen!” cried Planchet, “so you are back again in Paris. Oh, how happy you make us! no doubt you come to join the princes!”
+
+“As thou seest, Planchet,” said Aramis, whilst Athos smiled on seeing what important rank was held in the city militia by the former comrade of Mousqueton, Bazin and Grimaud.
+
+“And Monsieur d’Artagnan, of whom you spoke just now, Monsieur d’Herblay; may I ask if you have any news of him?”
+
+“We parted from him four days ago and we have reason to believe that he has reached Paris before us.”
+
+“No, sir; I am sure he hasn’t yet arrived. But then he may have stopped at Saint Germain.”
+
+“I don’t think so; we appointed to meet at La Chevrette.”
+
+“I was there this very day.”
+
+“And had the pretty Madeleine no news?” asked Aramis, smiling.
+
+“No, sir, and it must be admitted that she seemed very anxious.”
+
+“In fact,” said Aramis, “there is no time lost and we made our journey quickly. Permit me, then, my dear Athos, without inquiring further about our friend, to pay my respects to M. Planchet.”
+
+“Ah, monsieur le chevalier,” said Planchet, bowing.
+
+“Lieutenant?” asked Aramis.
+
+“Lieutenant, with a promise of becoming captain.”
+
+“’Tis capital; and pray, how did you acquire all these honors?”
+
+“In the first place, gentlemen, you know that I was the means of Monsieur de Rochefort’s escape; well, I was very near being hung by Mazarin and that made me more popular than ever.”
+
+“So, owing to your popularity — — ”
+
+“No; thanks to something better. You know, gentlemen, that I served the Piedmont regiment and had the honor of being a sergeant?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, one day when no one could drill a mob of citizens, who began to march, some with the right foot, others with the left, I succeeded, I did, in making them all begin with the same foot, and I was made lieutenant on the spot.”
+
+“So I presume,” said Athos, “that you have a large number of the nobles with you?”
+
+“Certainly. There are the Prince de Conti, the Duc de Longueville, the Duc de Beaufort, the Duc de Bouillon, the Marechal de la Mothe, the Marquis de Sevigne, and I don’t know who, for my part.”
+
+“And the Vicomte Raoul de Bragelonne?” inquired Athos, in a tremulous voice. “D’Artagnan told me that he had recommended him to your care, in parting.”
+
+“Yes, count; nor have I lost sight of him for a single instant since.”
+
+“Then,” said Athos in a tone of delight, “he is well? no accident has happened to him?”
+
+“None, sir.”
+
+“And he lives?”
+
+“Still at the Hotel of the Great Charlemagne.”
+
+“And passes his time?”
+
+“Sometimes with the queen of England, sometimes with Madame de Chevreuse. He and the Count de Guiche are like each other’s shadows.”
+
+“Thanks, Planchet, thanks!” cried Athos, extending his hand to the lieutenant.
+
+“Oh, sir!” Planchet only touched the tips of the count’s fingers.
+
+“Well, what are you doing, count — to a former lackey?
+
+“My friend,” said Athos, “he has given me news of Raoul.”
+
+“And now, gentlemen,” said Planchet, who had not heard what they were saying, “what do you intend to do?”
+
+“Re-enter Paris, if you will let us, my good Planchet.”
+
+“Let you, sir? Now, as ever, I am nothing but your servant.” Then turning to his men:
+
+“Allow these gentlemen to pass,” he said; “they are friends of the Duc de Beaufort.”
+
+“Long live the Duc de Beaufort!” cried the sentinels.
+
+The sergeant drew near to Planchet.
+
+“What! without passports?” he murmured.
+
+“Without passports,” said Planchet.
+
+“Take notice, captain,” he continued, giving Planchet his expected title, “take notice that one of the three men who just now went out from here told me privately to distrust these gentlemen.”
+
+“And I,” said Planchet, with dignity, “I know them and I answer for them.”
+
+As he said this, he pressed Grimaud’s hand, who seemed honored by the distinction.
+
+“Farewell till we meet again,” said Aramis, as they took leave of Planchet; “if anything happens to us we shall blame you for it.”
+
+“Sir,” said Planchet, “I am in all things at your service.”
+
+“That fellow is no fool,” said Aramis, as he got on his horse.
+
+“How should he be?” replied Athos, whilst mounting also, “seeing he was used so long to brush your hats.”
+
+Chapter LXXVI. The Ambassadors.
+
+The two friends rode rapidly down the declivity of the Faubourg, but on arriving at the bottom were surprised to find that the streets of Paris had become rivers, and the open places lakes; after the great rains which fell in January the Seine had overflowed its banks and the river inundated half the capital. The two gentlemen were obliged, therefore, to get off their horses and take a boat; and in that strange manner they approached the Louvre.
+
+Night had closed in, and Paris, seen thus, by the light of lanterns flickering on the pools of water, crowded with ferry-boats of every kind, including those that glittered with the armed patrols, with the watchword, passing from post to post — Paris presented such an aspect as to strongly seize the senses of Aramis, a man most susceptible to warlike impressions.
+
+They reached the queen’s apartments, but were compelled to stop in the ante-chamber, since her majesty was at that moment giving audience to gentlemen bringing her news from England.
+
+“We, too,” said Athos, to the footman who had given him that answer, “not only bring news from England, but have just come from there.”
+
+“What? then, are your names, gentlemen?”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d’Herblay,” said Aramis.
+
+“Ah! in that case, gentlemen,” said the footman, on hearing the names which the queen had so often pronounced with hope, “in that case it is another thing, and I think her majesty will pardon me for not keeping you here a moment. Please follow me,” and he went on before, followed by Athos and Aramis.
+
+On arriving at the door of the room where the queen was receiving he made a sign for them to wait and opening the door:
+
+“Madame,” he said, “I hope your majesty will forgive me for disobeying your orders, when you learn that the gentlemen I have come to announce are the Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d’Herblay.”
+
+On hearing those two names the queen uttered a cry of joy, which the two gentlemen heard.
+
+“Poor queen!” murmured Athos.
+
+“Oh, let them come in! let them come in,” cried the young princess, bounding to the door.
+
+The poor child was constant in her attendance on her mother and sought by her filial attentions to make her forget the absence of her two sons and her other daughter.
+
+“Come in, gentlemen,” repeated the princess, opening the door herself.
+
+The queen was seated on a fauteuil and before her were standing two or three gentlemen, and among them the Duc de Chatillon, the brother of the nobleman killed eight or nine years previously in a duel on account of Madame de Longueville, on the Place Royale. All these gentlemen had been noticed by Athos and Aramis in the guardhouse, and when the two friends were announced they started and exchanged some words in a low tone. “Well, sirs!” cried the queen, on perceiving the two friends, “you have come, faithful friends! But the royal couriers have been more expeditious than you, and here are Monsieur de Flamarens and Monsieur de Chatillon, who bring me from Her Majesty the Queen Anne of Austria, the very latest intelligence.”
+
+Aramis and Athos were astounded by the calmness, even the gayety of the queen’s manner.
+
+“Go on with your recital, sirs,” said the queen, turning to the Duc de Chatillon. “You said that His Majesty, King Charles, my august consort, had been condemned to death by a majority of his subjects!”
+
+“Yes, madame,” Chatillon stammered out.
+
+Athos and Aramis were more and more astonished.
+
+“And that being conducted to the scaffold,” resumed the queen — “oh, my lord! oh, my king! — and that being led to the scaffold he had been saved by an indignant people.”
+
+“Just so madame,” replied Chatillon, in so low a voice that though the two friends were listening eagerly they could hardly hear this affirmation.
+
+The queen clasped her hands in enthusiastic gratitude, whilst her daughter threw her arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her — her own eyes streaming with tears.
+
+“Now, madame, nothing remains to me except to proffer my respectful homage,” said Chatillon, who felt confused and ashamed beneath the stern gaze of Athos.
+
+“One moment, yes,” answered the queen. “One moment — I beg — for here are the Chevalier d’Herblay and the Comte de la Fere, just arrived from London, and they can give you, as eye-witnesses, such details as you can convey to the queen, my royal sister. Speak, gentlemen, speak — I am listening; conceal nothing, gloss over nothing. Since his majesty still lives, since the honor of the throne is safe, everything else is a matter of indifference to me.”
+
+Athos turned pale and laid his hand on his heart.
+
+“Well!” exclaimed the queen, who remarked this movement and his paleness. “Speak, sir! I beg you to do so.”
+
+“I beg you to excuse me, madame; I wish to add nothing to the recital of these gentlemen until they perceive themselves that they have perhaps been mistaken.”
+
+“Mistaken!” cried the queen, almost suffocated by emotion; “mistaken! what has happened, then?”
+
+“Sir,” interposed Monsieur de Flamarens to Athos, “if we are mistaken the error has originated with the queen. I do not suppose you will have the presumption to set it to rights — that would be to accuse Her Majesty, Queen Anne, of falsehood.”
+
+“With the queen, sir?” replied Athos, in his calm, vibrating voice.
+
+“Yes,” murmured Flamarens, lowering his eyes.
+
+Athos sighed deeply.
+
+“Or rather, sir,” said Aramis, with his peculiar irritating politeness, “the error of the person who was with you when we met you in the guardroom; for if the Comte de la Fere and I are not mistaken, we saw you in the company of a third gentleman.”
+
+Chatillon and Flamarens started.
+
+“Explain yourself, count!” cried the queen, whose anxiety grew greater every moment. “On your brow I read despair — your lips falter ere you announce some terrible tidings — your hands tremble. Oh, my God! my God! what has happened?”
+
+“Lord!” ejaculated the young princess, falling on her knees, “have mercy on us!”
+
+“Sir,” said Chatillon, “if you bring bad tidings it will be cruel in you to announce them to the queen.”
+
+Aramis went so close to Chatillon as almost to touch him.
+
+“Sir,” said he, with compressed lips and flashing eyes, “you have not the presumption to instruct the Comte de la Fere and myself what we ought to say here?”
+
+During this brief altercation Athos, with his hands on his heart, his head bent low, approached the queen and in a voice of deepest sorrow said:
+
+“Madame, princes — who by nature are above other men — receive from Heaven courage to support greater misfortunes than those of lower rank, for their hearts are elevated as their fortunes. We ought not, therefore, I think, to act toward a queen so illustrious as your majesty as we should act toward a woman of our lowlier condition. Queen, destined as you are to endure every sorrow on this earth, hear the result of our unhappy mission.”
+
+Athos, kneeling down before the queen, trembling and very cold, drew from his bosom, inclosed in the same case, the order set in diamonds which the queen had given to Lord de Winter and the wedding ring which Charles I. before his death had placed in the hands of Aramis. Since the moment he had first received these two mementoes Athos had never parted with them.
+
+He opened the case and offered them to the queen with deep and silent anguish.
+
+The queen stretched out her hand, seized the ring, pressed it convulsively to her lips — and without being able to breathe a sigh, to give vent to a sob, she extended her arms, became deadly pale, and fell senseless in the arms of her attendants and her daughter.
+
+Athos kissed the hem of the robe of the widowed queen and rising, with a dignity that made a deep impression on those around:
+
+“I, the Comte de la Fere, a gentleman who has never deceived any human being, swear before God and before this unhappy queen, that all that was possible to save the king of England was done whilst we were on English ground. Now, chevalier,” he added, turning to Aramis, “let us go. Our duty is fulfilled.”
+
+“Not yet.” said Aramis; “we have still a word to say to these gentlemen.”
+
+And turning to Chatillon: “Sir, be so good as not to go away without giving me an opportunity to tell you something I cannot say before the queen.”
+
+Chatillon bowed in token of assent and they all went out, stopping at the window of a gallery on the ground floor.
+
+“Sir,” said Aramis, “you allowed yourself just now to treat us in a most extraordinary manner. That would not be endurable in any case, and is still less so on the part of those who came to bring the queen the message of a liar.”
+
+“Sir!” cried De Chatillon.
+
+“What have you done with Monsieur de Bruy? Has he by any possibility gone to change his face which was too like that of Monsieur de Mazarin? There is an abundance of Italian masks at the Palais Royal, from harlequin even to pantaloon.”
+
+“Chevalier! chevalier!” said Athos.
+
+“Leave me alone,” said Aramis impatiently. “You know well that I don’t like to leave things half finished.”
+
+“Conclude, then, sir,” answered De Chatillon, with as much hauteur as Aramis.
+
+“Gentlemen,” resumed Aramis, “any one but the Comte de la Fere and myself would have had you arrested — for we have friends in Paris — but we are contented with another course. Come and converse with us for just five minutes, sword in hand, upon this deserted terrace.”
+
+“One moment, gentlemen,” cried Flamarens. “I know well that the proposition is tempting, but at present it is impossible to accept it.”
+
+“And why not?” said Aramis, in his tone of raillery. “Is it Mazarin’s proximity that makes you so prudent?”
+
+“Oh, you hear that, Flamarens!” said Chatillon. “Not to reply would be a blot on my name and my honor.”
+
+“That is my opinion,” said Aramis.
+
+“You will not reply, however, and these gentlemen, I am sure, will presently be of my opinion.”
+
+Aramis shook his head with a motion of indescribable insolence.
+
+Chatillon saw the motion and put his hand to his sword.
+
+“Willingly,” replied De Chatillon.
+
+“Duke,” said Flamarens, “you forget that to-morrow you are to command an expedition of the greatest importance, projected by the prince, assented to by the queen. Until to-morrow evening you are not at your own disposal.”
+
+“Let it be then the day after to-morrow,” said Aramis.
+
+“To-morrow, rather,” said De Chatillon, “if you will take the trouble of coming so far as the gates of Charenton.”
+
+“How can you doubt it, sir? For the pleasure of a meeting with you I would go to the end of the world.”
+
+“Very well, to-morrow, sir.”
+
+“I shall rely on it. Are you going to rejoin your cardinal? Swear first, on your honor, not to inform him of our return.”
+
+“Conditions?”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because it is for victors to make conditions, and you are not yet victors, gentlemen.”
+
+“Then let us draw on the spot. It is all one to us — to us who do not command to-morrow’s expedition.”
+
+Chatillon and Flamarens looked at each other. There was such irony in the words and in the bearing of Aramis that the duke had great difficulty in bridling his anger, but at a word from Flamarens he restrained himself and contented himself with saying:
+
+“You promise, sir — that’s agreed — that I shall find you to-morrow at Charenton?”
+
+“Oh, don’t be afraid, sir,” replied Aramis; and the two gentlemen shortly afterward left the Louvre.
+
+“For what reason is all this fume and fury?” asked Athos. “What have they done to you?”
+
+“They — did you not see what they did?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“They laughed when we swore that we had done our duty in England. Now, if they believed us, they laughed in order to insult us; if they did not believe it they insulted us all the more. However, I’m glad not to fight them until to-morrow. I hope we shall have something better to do to-night than to draw the sword.”
+
+“What have we to do?”
+
+“Egad! to take Mazarin.”
+
+Athos curled his lip with disdain.
+
+“These undertakings do not suit me, as you know, Aramis.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because it is taking people unawares.”
+
+“Really, Athos, you would make a singular general. You would fight only by broad daylight, warn your foe before an attack, and never attempt anything by night lest you should be accused of taking advantage of the darkness.”
+
+Athos smiled.
+
+“You know one cannot change his nature,” he said. “Besides, do you know what is our situation, and whether Mazarin’s arrest wouldn’t be rather an encumbrance than an advantage?”
+
+“Say at once you disapprove of my proposal.”
+
+“I think you ought to do nothing, since you exacted a promise from these gentlemen not to let Mazarin know that we were in France.”
+
+“I have entered into no engagement and consider myself quite free. Come, come.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“Either to seek the Duc de Beaufort or the Duc de Bouillon, and to tell them about this.”
+
+“Yes, but on one condition — that we begin by the coadjutor. He is a priest, learned in cases of conscience, and we will tell him ours.”
+
+It was then agreed that they were to go first to Monsieur de Bouillon, as his house came first; but first of all Athos begged that he might go to the Hotel du Grand Charlemagne, to see Raoul.
+
+They re-entered the boat which had brought them to the Louvre and thence proceeded to the Halles; and taking up Grimaud and Blaisois, they went on foot to the Rue Guenegaud.
+
+But Raoul was not at the Hotel du Grand Charlemagne. He had received a message from the prince, to whom he had hastened with Olivain the instant he had received it.
+
+Chapter LXXVII. The three Lieutenants of the Generalissimo.
+
+The night was dark, but still the town resounded with those noises that disclose a city in a state of siege. Athos and Aramis did not proceed a hundred steps without being stopped by sentinels placed before the barricades, who demanded the watchword; and on their saying that they were going to Monsieur de Bouillon on a mission of importance a guide was given them under pretext of conducting them, but in fact as a spy over their movements.
+
+On arriving at the Hotel de Bouillon they came across a little troop of three cavaliers, who seemed to know every possible password; for they walked without either guide or escort, and on arriving at the barricades had nothing to do but to speak to those who guarded them, who instantly let them pass with evident deference, due probably to their high birth.
+
+On seeing them Athos and Aramis stood still.
+
+“Oh!” cried Aramis, “do you see, count?”
+
+“Yes,” said Athos.
+
+“Who do these three cavaliers appear to you to be?”
+
+“What do you think, Aramis?”
+
+“Why, they are our men.”
+
+“You are not mistaken; I recognize Monsieur de Flamarens.”
+
+“And I, Monsieur de Chatillon.”
+
+“As to the cavalier in the brown cloak — — ”
+
+“It is the cardinal.”
+
+“In person.”
+
+“How the devil do they venture so near the Hotel de Bouillon?”
+
+Athos smiled, but did not reply. Five minutes afterward they knocked at the prince’s door.
+
+This door was guarded by a sentinel and there was also a guard placed in the courtyard, ready to obey the orders of the Prince de Conti’s lieutenant.
+
+Monsieur de Bouillon had the gout, but notwithstanding his illness, which had prevented his mounting on horseback for the last month — -that is, since Paris had been besieged — he was ready to receive the Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d’Herblay.
+
+He was in bed, but surrounded with all the paraphernalia of war. Everywhere were swords, pistols, cuirasses, and arquebuses, and it was plain that as soon as his gout was better Monsieur de Bouillon would give a pretty tangle to the enemies of the parliament to unravel. Meanwhile, to his great regret, as he said, he was obliged to keep his bed.
+
+“Ah, gentlemen,” he cried, as the two friends entered, “you are very happy! you can ride, you can go and come and fight for the cause of the people. But I, as you see, am nailed to my bed — ah! this demon, gout — this demon, gout!”
+
+“My lord,” said Athos, “we are just arrived from England and our first concern is to inquire after your health.”
+
+“Thanks, gentlemen, thanks! As you see, my health is but indifferent. But you come from England. And King Charles is well, as I have just heard?”
+
+“He is dead, my lord!” said Aramis.
+
+“Pooh!” said the duke, too much astonished to believe it true.
+
+“Dead on the scaffold; condemned by parliament.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“And executed in our presence.”
+
+“What, then, has Monsieur de Flamarens been telling me?”
+
+“Monsieur de Flamarens?”
+
+“Yes, he has just gone out.”
+
+Athos smiled. “With two companions?” he said.
+
+“With two companions, yes,” replied the duke. Then he added with a certain uneasiness, “Did you meet them?”
+
+“Why, yes, I think so — in the street,” said Athos; and he looked smilingly at Aramis, who looked at him with an expression of surprise.
+
+“The devil take this gout!” cried Monsieur de Bouillon, evidently ill at ease.
+
+“My lord,” said Athos, “we admire your devotion to the cause you have espoused, in remaining at the head of the army whilst so ill, in so much pain.”
+
+“One must,” replied Monsieur de Bouillon, “sacrifice one’s comfort to the public good; but I confess to you I am now almost exhausted. My spirit is willing, my head is clear, but this demon, the gout, o’ercrows me. I confess, if the court would do justice to my claims and give the head of my house the title of prince, and if my brother De Turenne were reinstated in his command I would return to my estates and leave the court and parliament to settle things between themselves as they might.”
+
+“You are perfectly right, my lord.”
+
+“You think so? At this very moment the court is making overtures to me; hitherto I have repulsed them; but since such men as you assure me that I am wrong in doing so, I’ve a good mind to follow your advice and to accept a proposition made to me by the Duc de Chatillon just now.”
+
+“Accept it, my lord, accept it,” said Aramis.
+
+“Faith! yes. I am even sorry that this evening I almost repulsed — but there will be a conference to-morrow and we shall see.”
+
+The two friends saluted the duke.
+
+“Go, gentlemen,” he said; “you must be much fatigued after your voyage. Poor King Charles! But, after all, he was somewhat to blame in all that business and we may console ourselves with the reflection that France has no cause of reproach in the matter and did all she could to serve him.”
+
+“Oh! as to that,” said Aramis, “we are witnesses. Mazarin especially — — ”
+
+“Yes, do you know, I am very glad to hear you give that testimony; the cardinal has some good in him, and if he were not a foreigner — well, he would be more justly estimated. Oh! the devil take this gout!”
+
+Athos and Aramis took their leave, but even in the ante-chamber they could still hear the duke’s cries; he was evidently suffering the tortures of the damned.
+
+When they reached the street, Aramis said:
+
+“Well, Athos, what do you think?”
+
+“Of whom?”
+
+“Pardieu! of Monsieur de Bouillon.”
+
+“My friend, I think that he is much troubled with gout.”
+
+“You noticed that I didn’t breathe a word as to the purpose of our visit?”
+
+“You did well; you would have caused him an access of his disease. Let us go to Monsieur de Beaufort.”
+
+The two friends went to the Hotel de Vendome. It was ten o’clock when they arrived. The Hotel de Vendome was not less guarded than the Hotel de Bouillon, and presented as warlike an appearance. There were sentinels, a guard in the court, stacks of arms, and horses saddled. Two horsemen going out as Athos and Aramis entered were obliged to give place to them.
+
+“Ah! ah! gentlemen,” said Aramis, “decidedly it is a night for meetings. We shall be very unfortunate if, after meeting so often this evening, we should not succeed in meeting to-morrow.”
+
+“Oh, as to that, sir,” replied Chatillon (for it was he who, with Flamarens, was leaving the Duc de Beaufort), “you may be assured; for if we meet by night without seeking each other, much more shall we meet by day when wishing it.”
+
+“I hope that is true,” said Aramis.
+
+“As for me, I am sure of it,” said the duke.
+
+De Flamarens and De Chatillon continued on their way and Athos and Aramis dismounted.
+
+Hardly had they given the bridles of their horses to their lackeys and rid themselves of their cloaks when a man approached them, and after looking at them for an instant by the doubtful light of the lantern hung in the centre of the courtyard he uttered an exclamation of joy and ran to embrace them.
+
+“Comte de la Fere!” the man cried out; “Chevalier d’Herblay! How does it happen that you are in Paris?”
+
+“Rochefort!” cried the two friends.
+
+“Yes! we arrived four or five days ago from the Vendomois, as you know, and we are going to give Mazarin something to do. You are still with us, I presume?”
+
+“More than ever. And the duke?”
+
+“Furious against the cardinal. You know his success — our dear duke? He is really king of Paris; he can’t go out without being mobbed by his admirers.”
+
+“Ah! so much the better! Can we have the honor of seeing his highness?”
+
+“I shall be proud to present you,” and Rochefort walked on. Every door was opened to him. Monsieur de Beaufort was at supper, but he rose quickly on hearing the two friends announced.
+
+“Ah!” he cried, “by Jove! you’re welcome, sirs. You are coming to sup with me, are you not? Boisgoli, tell Noirmont that I have two guests. You know Noirmont, do you not? The successor of Father Marteau who makes the excellent pies you know of. Boisgoli, let him send one of his best, but not such a one as he made for La Ramee. Thank God! we don’t want either rope ladders or gag-pears now.”
+
+“My lord,” said Athos, “do not let us disturb you. We came merely to inquire after your health and to take your orders.”
+
+“As to my health, since it has stood five years of prison, with Monsieur de Chavigny to boot, ’tis excellent! As to my orders, since every one gives his own commands in our party, I shall end, if this goes on, by giving none at all.”
+
+“In short, my lord,” said Athos, glancing at Aramis, “your highness is discontented with your party?”
+
+“Discontented, sir! say my highness is furious! To such a degree, I assure you, though I would not say so to others, that if the queen, acknowledging the injuries she has done me, would recall my mother and give me the reversion of the admiralty, which belonged to my father and was promised me at his death, well! it would not be long before I should be training dogs to say that there were greater traitors in France than the Cardinal Mazarin!”
+
+At this Athos and Aramis could not help exchanging not only a look but a smile; and had they not known it for a fact, this would have told them that De Chatillon and De Flamarens had been there.
+
+“My lord,” said Athos, “we are satisfied; we came here only to express our loyalty and to say that we are at your lordship’s service and his most faithful servants.”
+
+“My most faithful friends, gentlemen, my most faithful friends; you have proved it. And if ever I am reconciled with the court I shall prove to you, I hope, that I remain your friend, as well as that of — what the devil are their names — D’Artagnan and Porthos?”
+
+“D’Artagnan and Porthos.”
+
+“Ah, yes. You understand, then, Comte de la Fere, you understand, Chevalier d’Herblay, that I am altogether and always at your service.”
+
+Athos and Aramis bowed and went out.
+
+“My dear Athos,” cried Aramis, “I think you consented to accompany me only to give me a lesson — God forgive me!”
+
+“Wait a little, Aramis; it will be time for you to perceive my motive when we have paid our visit to the coadjutor.”
+
+“Let us then go to the archiepiscopal palace,” said Aramis.
+
+They directed their horses to the city. On arriving at the cradle from which Paris sprang they found it inundated with water, and it was again necessary to take a boat. The palace rose from the bosom of the water, and to see the number of boats around it one would have fancied one’s self not in Paris, but in Venice. Some of these boats were dark and mysterious, others noisy and lighted up with torches. The friends slid in through this congestion of embarkation and landed in their turn. The palace was surrounded with water, but a kind of staircase had been fixed to the lower walls; and the only difference was, that instead of entering by the doors, people entered by the windows.
+
+Thus did Athos and Aramis make their appearance in the ante-chamber, where about a dozen noblemen were collected in waiting.
+
+“Good heavens!” said Aramis to Athos, “does the coadjutor intend to indulge himself in the pleasure of making us cool our hearts off in his ante-chamber?”
+
+“My dear friend, we must take people as we find them. The coadjutor is at this moment one of the seven kings of Paris, and has a court. Let us send in our names, and if he does not send us a suitable message we will leave him to his own affairs or those of France. Let us call one of these lackeys, with a demi-pistole in the left hand.”
+
+“Exactly so,” cried Aramis. “Ah! if I’m not mistaken here’s Bazin. Come here, fellow.”
+
+Bazin, who was crossing the ante-chamber majestically in his clerical dress, turned around to see who the impertinent gentleman was who thus addressed him; but seeing his friends he went up to them quickly and expressed delight at seeing them.
+
+“A truce to compliments,” said Aramis; “we want to see the coadjutor, and instantly, as we are in haste.”
+
+“Certainly, sir — it is not such lords as you are who are allowed to wait in the ante-chamber, only just now he has a secret conference with Monsieur de Bruy.”
+
+“De Bruy!” cried the friends, “’tis then useless our seeing monsieur the coadjutor this evening,” said Aramis, “so we give it up.”
+
+And they hastened to quit the palace, followed by Bazin, who was lavish of bows and compliments.
+
+“Well,” said Athos, when Aramis and he were in the boat again, “are you beginning to be convinced that we should have done a bad turn to all these people in arresting Mazarin?”
+
+“You are wisdom incarnate, Athos,” Aramis replied.
+
+What had especially been observed by the two friends was the little interest taken by the court of France in the terrible events which had occurred in England, which they thought should have arrested the attention of all Europe.
+
+In fact, aside from a poor widow and a royal orphan who wept in the corner of the Louvre, no one appeared to be aware that Charles I. had ever lived and that he had perished on the scaffold.
+
+The two friends made an appointment for ten o’clock on the following day; for though the night was well advanced when they reached the door of the hotel, Aramis said that he had certain important visits to make and left Athos to enter alone.
+
+At ten o’clock the next day they met again. Athos had been out since six o’clock.
+
+“Well, have you any news?” Athos asked.
+
+“Nothing. No one has seen D’Artagnan and Porthos has not appeared. Have you anything?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“The devil!” said Aramis.
+
+“In fact,” said Athos, “this delay is not natural; they took the shortest route and should have arrived before we did.”
+
+“Add to that D’Artagnan’s rapidity in action and that he is not the man to lose an hour, knowing that we were expecting him.”
+
+“He expected, you will remember, to be here on the fifth.”
+
+“And here we are at the ninth. This evening the margin of possible delay expires.”
+
+“What do you think should be done,” asked Athos, “if we have no news of them to-night?”
+
+“Pardieu! we must go and look for them.”
+
+“All right,” said Athos.
+
+“But Raoul?” said Aramis.
+
+A light cloud passed over the count’s face.
+
+“Raoul gives me much uneasiness,” he said. “He received yesterday a message from the Prince de Condé; he went to meet him at Saint Cloud and has not returned.”
+
+“Have you seen Madame de Chevreuse?”
+
+“She was not at home. And you, Aramis, you were going, I think, to visit Madame de Longueville.”
+
+“I did go there.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“She was no longer there, but she had left her new address.”
+
+“Where was she?”
+
+“Guess; I give you a thousand chances.”
+
+“How should I know where the most beautiful and active of the Frondists was at midnight? for I presume it was when you left me that you went to visit her.”
+
+“At the Hotel de Ville, my dear fellow.”
+
+“What! at the Hotel de Ville? Has she, then, been appointed provost of merchants?”
+
+“No; but she has become queen of Paris, ad interim, and since she could not venture at once to establish herself in the Palais Royal or the Tuileries, she is installed at the Hotel de Ville, where she is on the point of giving an heir or an heiress to that dear duke.”
+
+“You didn’t tell me of that, Aramis.”
+
+“Really? It was my forgetfulness then; pardon me.”
+
+“Now,” asked Athos, “what are we to do with ourselves till evening? Here we are without occupation, it seems to me.”
+
+“You forget, my friend, that we have work cut out for us in the direction of Charenton; I hope to see Monsieur de Chatillon, whom I’ve hated for a long time, there.”
+
+“Why have you hated him?”
+
+“Because he is the brother of Coligny.”
+
+“Ah, true! he who presumed to be a rival of yours, for which he was severely punished; that ought to satisfy you.”
+
+“‘Yes, but it does not; I am rancorous — the only stigma that proves me to be a churchman. Do you understand? You understand that you are in no way obliged to go with me.”
+
+“Come, now,” said Athos, “you are joking.”
+
+“In that case, my dear friend, if you are resolved to accompany me there is no time to lose; the drum beats; I observed cannon on the road; I saw the citizens in order of battle on the Place of the Hotel de Ville; certainly the fight will be in the direction of Charenton, as the Duc de Chatillon said.”
+
+“I supposed,” said Athos, “that last night’s conferences would modify those warlike arrangements.”
+
+“No doubt; but they will fight, none the less, if only to mask the conferences.”
+
+“Poor creatures!” said Athos, “who are going to be killed, in order that Monsieur de Bouillon may have his estate at Sedan restored to him, that the reversion of the admiralty may be given to the Duc de Beaufort, and that the coadjutor may be made a cardinal.”
+
+“Come, come, dear Athos, confess that you would not be so philosophical if your Raoul were to be involved in this affair.”
+
+“Perhaps you speak the truth, Aramis.”
+
+“Well, let us go, then, where the fighting is, for that is the most likely place to meet with D’Artagnan, Porthos, and possibly even Raoul. Stop, there are a fine body of citizens passing; quite attractive, by Jupiter! and their captain — see! he has the true military style.”
+
+“What, ho!” said Grimaud.
+
+“What?” asked Athos.
+
+“Planchet, sir.”
+
+“Lieutenant yesterday,” said Aramis, “captain to-day, colonel, doubtless, to-morrow; in a fortnight the fellow will be marshal of France.”
+
+“Question him about the fight,” said Athos.
+
+Planchet, prouder than ever of his new duties, deigned to explain to the two gentlemen that he was ordered to take up his position on the Place Royale with two hundred men, forming the rear of the army of Paris, and to march on Charenton when necessary.
+
+“This day will be a warm one,” said Planchet, in a warlike tone.
+
+“No doubt,” said Aramis, “but it is far from here to the enemy.”
+
+“Sir, the distance will be diminished,” said a subordinate.
+
+Aramis saluted, then turning toward Athos:
+
+“I don’t care to camp on the Place Royale with all these people,” he said. “Shall we go forward? We shall see better what is going on.”
+
+“And then Monsieur de Chatillon will not come to the Place Royale to look for you. Come, then, my friend, we will go forward.”
+
+“Haven’t you something to say to Monsieur de Flamarens on your own account?”
+
+“My friend,” said Athos, “I have made a resolution never to draw my sword save when it is absolutely necessary.”
+
+“And how long ago was that?”
+
+“When I last drew my poniard.”
+
+“Ah! Good! another souvenir of Monsieur Mordaunt. Well, my friend, nothing now is lacking except that you should feel remorse for having killed that fellow.”
+
+“Hush!” said Athos, putting a finger on his lips, with the sad smile peculiar to him; “let us talk no more of Mordaunt — it will bring bad luck.” And Athos set forward toward Charenton, followed closely by Aramis.
+
+Chapter LXXVIII. The Battle of Charenton.
+
+As Athos and Aramis proceeded, and passed different companies on the road, they became aware that they were arriving near the field of battle.
+
+“Ah! my friend!” cried Athos, suddenly, “where have you brought us? I fancy I perceive around us faces of different officers in the royal army; is not that the Duc de Chatillon himself coming toward us with his brigadiers?”
+
+“Good-day, sirs,” said the duke, advancing; “you are puzzled by what you see here, but one word will explain everything. There is now a truce and a conference. The prince, Monsieur de Retz, the Duc de Beaufort, the Duc de Bouillon, are talking over public affairs. Now one of two things must happen: either matters will not be arranged, or they will be arranged, in which last case I shall be relieved of my command and we shall still meet again.”
+
+“Sir,” said Aramis, “you speak to the point. Allow me to ask you a question: Where are the plenipotentiaries?”
+
+“At Charenton, in the second house on the right on entering from the direction of Paris.”
+
+“And was this conference arranged beforehand?”
+
+“No, gentlemen, it seems to be the result of certain propositions which Mazarin made last night to the Parisians.”
+
+Athos and Aramis exchanged smiles; for they well knew what those propositions were, to whom they had been made and who had made them.
+
+“And that house in which the plenipotentiaries are,” asked Athos, “belongs to — — ”
+
+“To Monsieur de Chanleu, who commands your troops at Charenton. I say your troops, for I presume that you gentlemen are Frondeurs?”
+
+“Yes, almost,” said Aramis.
+
+“We are for the king and the princes,” added Athos.
+
+“We must understand each other,” said the duke. “The king is with us and his generals are the Duke of Orleans and the Prince de Condé, although I must add ’tis almost impossible now to know to which party any one belongs.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Athos, “but his right place is in our ranks, with the Prince de Conti, De Beaufort, D’Elbeuf, and De Bouillon; but, sir, supposing that the conference is broken off — are you going to try to take Charenton?”
+
+“Such are my orders.”
+
+“Sir, since you command the cavalry — — ”
+
+“Pardon me, I am commander-in-chief.”
+
+“So much the better. You must know all your officers — I mean those more distinguished.”
+
+“Why, yes, very nearly.”
+
+“Will you then kindly tell me if you have in your command the Chevalier d’Artagnan, lieutenant in the musketeers?”
+
+“No, sir, he is not with us; he left Paris more than six weeks ago and is believed to have gone on a mission to England.”
+
+“I knew that, but I supposed he had returned.”
+
+“No, sir; no one has seen him. I can answer positively on that point, for the musketeers belong to our forces and Monsieur de Cambon, the substitute for Monsieur d’Artagnan, still holds his place.”
+
+The two friends looked at each other.
+
+“You see,” said Athos.
+
+“It is strange,” said Aramis.
+
+“It is absolutely certain that some misfortune has happened to them on the way.”
+
+“If we have no news of them this evening, to-morrow we must start.”
+
+Athos nodded affirmatively, then turning:
+
+“And Monsieur de Bragelonne, a young man fifteen years of age, attached to the Prince de Condé — has he the honor of being known to you?” diffident in allowing the sarcastic Aramis to perceive how strong were his paternal feelings.
+
+“Yes, surely, he came with the prince; a charming young man; he is one of your friends then, monsieur le comte?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered Athos, agitated; “so much so that I wish to see him if possible.”
+
+“Quite possible, sir; do me the favor to accompany me and I will conduct you to headquarters.”
+
+“Halloo, there!” cried Aramis, turning around; “what a noise behind us!”
+
+“A body of cavaliers is coming toward us,” said Chatillon.
+
+“I recognize the coadjutor by his Frondist hat.”
+
+“And I the Duc de Beaufort by his white plume of ostrich feathers.”
+
+“They are coming, full gallop; the prince is with them — ah! he is leaving them!”
+
+“They are beating the rappel!” cried Chatillon; “we must discover what is going on.”
+
+In fact, they saw the soldiers running to their arms; the trumpets sounded; the drums beat; the Duc de Beaufort drew his sword. On his side the prince sounded a rappel and all the officers of the royalist army, mingling momentarily with the Parisian troops, ran to him.
+
+“Gentlemen,” cried Chatillon, “the truce is broken, that is evident; they are going to fight; go, then, into Charenton, for I shall begin in a short time — there’s a signal from the prince!”
+
+The cornet of a troop had in fact just raised the standard of the prince.
+
+“Farewell, till the next time we meet,” cried Chatillon, and he set off, full gallop.
+
+Athos and Aramis turned also and went to salute the coadjutor and the Duc de Beaufort. As to the Duc de Bouillon, he had such a fit of gout as obliged him to return to Paris in a litter; but his place was well filled by the Duc d’Elbeuf and his four sons, ranged around him like a staff. Meantime, between Charenton and the royal army was left a space which looked ready to serve as a last resting place for the dead.
+
+“Gentlemen,” cried the coadjutor, tightening his sash, which he wore, after the fashion of the ancient military prelates, over his archiepiscopal simar, “there’s the enemy approaching. Let us save them half of their journey.”
+
+And without caring whether he were followed or not he set off; his regiment, which bore the name of the regiment of Corinth, from the name of his archbishopric, darted after him and began the fight. Monsieur de Beaufort sent his cavalry, toward Etampes and Monsieur de Chanleu, who defended the place, was ready to resist an assault, or if the enemy were repulsed, to attempt a sortie.
+
+The battle soon became general and the coadjutor performed miracles of valor. His proper vocation had always been the sword and he was delighted whenever he could draw it from the scabbard, no matter for whom or against whom.
+
+Chanleu, whose fire at one time repulsed the royal regiment, thought that the moment was come to pursue it; but it was reformed and led again to the charge by the Duc de Chatillon in person. This charge was so fierce, so skillfully conducted, that Chanleu was almost surrounded. He commanded a retreat, which began, step by step, foot by foot; unhappily, in an instant he fell, mortally wounded. De Chatillon saw him fall and announced it in a loud voice to his men, which raised their spirits and completely disheartened their enemies, so that every man thought only of his own safety and tried to gain the trenches, where the coadjutor was trying to reform his disorganized regiment.
+
+Suddenly a squadron of cavalry galloped up to encounter the royal troops, who were entering, pele-mele, the intrenchments with the fugitives. Athos and Aramis charged at the head of their squadrons; Aramis with sword and pistol in his hands, Athos with his sword in his scabbard, his pistol in his saddle-bags; calm and cool as if on the parade, except that his noble and beautiful countenance became sad as he saw slaughtered so many men who were sacrificed on the one side to the obstinacy of royalty and on the other to the personal rancor of the princes. Aramis, on the contrary, struck right and left and was almost delirious with excitement. His bright eyes kindled, and his mouth, so finely formed, assumed a wicked smile; every blow he aimed was sure, and his pistol finished the deed — annihilated the wounded wretch who tried to rise again.
+
+On the opposite side two cavaliers, one covered with a gilt cuirass, the other wearing simply a buff doublet, from which fell the sleeves of a vest of blue velvet, charged in front. The cavalier in the gilt cuirass fell upon Aramis and struck a blow that Aramis parried with his wonted skill.
+
+“Ah! ’tis you, Monsieur de Chatillon,” cried the chevalier; “welcome to you — I expected you.”
+
+“I hope I have not made you wait too long, sir,” said the duke; “at all events, here I am.”
+
+“Monsieur de Chatillon,” cried Aramis, taking from his saddle-bags a second pistol, “I think if your pistols have been discharged you are a dead man.”
+
+“Thank God, sir, they are not!”
+
+And the duke, pointing his pistol at Aramis, fired. But Aramis bent his head the instant he saw the duke’s finger press the trigger and the ball passed without touching him.
+
+“Oh! you’ve missed me,” cried Aramis, “but I swear to Heaven! I will not miss you.”
+
+“If I give you time!” cried the duke, spurring on his horse and rushing upon him with his drawn sword.
+
+Aramis awaited him with that terrible smile which was peculiar to him on such occasions, and Athos, who saw the duke advancing toward Aramis with the rapidity of lightning, was just going to cry out, “Fire! fire, then!” when the shot was fired. De Chatillon opened his arms and fell back on the crupper of his horse.
+
+The ball had entered his breast through a notch in the cuirass.
+
+“I am a dead man,” he said, and fell from his horse to the ground.
+
+“I told you this, I am now grieved I have kept my word. Can I be of any use to you?”
+
+Chatillon made a sign with his hand and Aramis was about to dismount when he received a violent shock; ’twas a thrust from a sword, but his cuirass turned aside the blow.
+
+He turned around and seized his new antagonist by the wrist, when he started back, exclaiming, “Raoul!”
+
+“Raoul?” cried Athos.
+
+The young man recognized at the same instant the voices of his father and the Chevalier d’Herblay; two officers in the Parisian forces rushed at that instant on Raoul, but Aramis protected him with his sword.
+
+“My prisoner!” he cried.
+
+Athos took his son’s horse by the bridle and led him forth out of the melee.
+
+At this crisis of the battle, the prince, who had been seconding De Chatillon in the second line, appeared in the midst of the fight; his eagle eye made him known and his blows proclaimed the hero.
+
+On seeing him, the regiment of Corinth, which the coadjutor had not been able to reorganize in spite of all his efforts, threw itself into the midst of the Parisian forces, put them into confusion and re-entered Charenton flying. The coadjutor, dragged along with his fugitive forces, passed near the group formed by Athos, Raoul and Aramis. Aramis could not in his jealousy avoid being pleased at the coadjutor’s misfortune, and was about to utter some bon mot more witty than correct, when Athos stopped him.
+
+“On, on!” he cried, “this is no moment for compliments; or rather, back, for the battle seems to be lost by the Frondeurs.”
+
+“It is a matter of indifference to me,” said Aramis; “I came here only to meet De Chatillon; I have met him, I am contented; ’tis something to have met De Chatillon in a duel!”
+
+“And besides, we have a prisoner,” said Athos, pointing to Raoul.
+
+The three cavaliers continued their road on full gallop.
+
+“What were you doing in the battle, my friend?” inquired Athos of the youth; “’twas not your right place, I think, as you were not equipped for an engagement!”
+
+“I had no intention of fighting to-day, sir; I was charged, indeed, with a mission to the cardinal and had set out for Rueil, when, seeing Monsieur de Chatillon charge, an invincible desire possessed me to charge at his side. It was then that he told me two cavaliers of the Parisian army were seeking me and named the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“What! you knew we were there and yet wished to kill your friend the chevalier?”
+
+“I did not recognize the chevalier in armor, sir!” said Raoul, blushing; “though I might have known him by his skill and coolness in danger.”
+
+“Thank you for the compliment, my young friend,” replied Aramis, “we can see from whom you learned courtesy. Then you were going to Rueil?”
+
+“Yes! I have a despatch from the prince to his eminence.”
+
+“You must still deliver it,” said Athos.
+
+“No false generosity, count! the fate of our friends, to say nothing of our own, is perhaps in that very despatch.”
+
+“This young man must not, however, fail in his duty,” said Athos.
+
+“In the first place, count, this youth is our prisoner; you seem to forget that. What I propose to do is fair in war; the vanquished must not be dainty in the choice of means. Give me the despatch, Raoul.”
+
+The young man hesitated and looked at Athos as if seeking to read in his eyes a rule of conduct.
+
+“Give him the despatch, Raoul! you are the chevalier’s prisoner.”
+
+Raoul gave it up reluctantly; Aramis instantly seized and read it.
+
+“You,” he said, “you, who are so trusting, read and reflect that there is something in this letter important for us to see.”
+
+Athos took the letter, frowning, but an idea that he should find something in this letter about D’Artagnan conquered his unwillingness to read it.
+
+“My lord, I shall send this evening to your eminence in order to reinforce the troop of Monsieur de Comminges, the ten men you demand. They are good soldiers, fit to confront the two violent adversaries whose address and resolution your eminence is fearful of.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Athos.
+
+“Well,” said Aramis, “what think you about these two enemies whom it requires, besides Comminges’s troop, ten good soldiers to confront; are they not as like as two drops of water to D’Artagnan and Porthos?”
+
+“We’ll search Paris all day long,” said Athos, “and if we have no news this evening we will return to the road to Picardy; and I feel no doubt that, thanks to D’Artagnan’s ready invention, we shall then find some clew which will solve our doubts.”
+
+“Yes, let us search Paris and especially inquire of Planchet if he has yet heard from his former master.”
+
+“That poor Planchet! You speak of him very much at your ease, Aramis; he has probably been killed. All those fighting citizens went out to battle and they have been massacred.”
+
+It was, then, with a sentiment of uneasiness whether Planchet, who alone could give them information, was alive or dead, that the friends returned to the Place Royale; to their great surprise they found the citizens still encamped there, drinking and bantering each other, although, doubtless, mourned by their families, who thought they were at Charenton in the thickest of the fighting.
+
+Athos and Aramis again questioned Planchet, but he had seen nothing of D’Artagnan; they wished to take Planchet with them, but he could not leave his troop, who at five o’clock returned home, saying that they were returning from the battle, whereas they had never lost sight of the bronze equestrian statue of Louis XIII.
+
+Chapter LXXIX. The Road to Picardy.
+
+On leaving Paris, Athos and Aramis well knew that they would be encountering great danger; but we know that for men like these there could be no question of danger. Besides, they felt that the dénouement of this second Odyssey was at hand and that there remained but a single effort to make.
+
+Besides, there was no tranquillity in Paris itself. Provisions began to fail, and whenever one of the Prince de Conti’s generals wished to gain more influence he got up a little popular tumult, which he put down again, and thus for the moment gained a superiority over his colleagues.
+
+In one of these risings, the Duc de Beaufort pillaged the house and library of Mazarin, in order to give the populace, as he put it, something to gnaw at. Athos and Aramis left Paris after this coup-d’etat, which took place on the very evening of the day in which the Parisians had been beaten at Charenton.
+
+They quitted Paris, beholding it abandoned to extreme want, bordering on famine; agitated by fear, torn by faction. Parisians and Frondeurs as they were, the two friends expected to find the same misery, the same fears, the same intrigue in the enemy’s camp; but what was their surprise, after passing Saint Denis, to hear that at Saint Germain people were singing and laughing, and leading generally cheerful lives. The two gentlemen traveled by byways in order not to encounter the Mazarinists scattered about the Isle of France, and also to escape the Frondeurs, who were in possession of Normandy and who never failed to conduct captives to the Duc de Longueville, in order that he might ascertain whether they were friends or foes. Having escaped these dangers, they returned by the main road to Boulogne, at Abbeville, and followed it step by step, examining every track.
+
+Nevertheless, they were still in a state of uncertainty. Several inns were visited by them, several innkeepers questioned, without a single clew being given to guide their inquiries, when at Montreuil Athos felt upon the table that something rough was touching his delicate fingers. He turned up the cloth and found these hieroglyphics carved upon the wood with a knife:
+
+“Port.... D’Art.... 2d February.”
+
+“This is capital!” said Athos to Aramis, “we were to have slept here, but we cannot — we must push on.” They rode forward and reached Abbeville. There the great number of inns puzzled them; they could not go to all; how could they guess in which those whom they were seeking had stayed?
+
+“Trust me,” said Aramis, “do not expect to find anything in Abbeville. If we had only been looking for Porthos, Porthos would have stationed himself in one of the finest hotels and we could easily have traced him. But D’Artagnan is devoid of such weaknesses. Porthos would have found it very difficult even to make him see that he was dying of hunger; he has gone on his road as inexorable as fate and we must seek him somewhere else.”
+
+They continued their route. It had now become a weary and almost hopeless task, and had it not been for the threefold motives of honor, friendship and gratitude, implanted in their hearts, our two travelers would have given up many a time their rides over the sand, their interrogatories of the peasantry and their close inspection of faces.
+
+They proceeded thus to Peronne.
+
+Athos began to despair. His noble nature felt that their ignorance was a sort of reflection upon them. They had not looked carefully enough for their lost friends. They had not shown sufficient pertinacity in their inquiries. They were willing and ready to retrace their steps, when, in crossing the suburb which leads to the gates of the town, upon a white wall which was at the corner of a street turning around the rampart, Athos cast his eyes upon a drawing in black chalk, which represented, with the awkwardness of a first attempt, two cavaliers riding furiously; one of them carried a roll of paper on which were written these words: “They are following us.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Athos, “here it is, as clear as day; pursued as he was, D’Artagnan would not have tarried here five minutes had he been pressed very closely, which gives us hopes that he may have succeeded in escaping.”
+
+Aramis shook his head.
+
+“Had he escaped we should either have seen him or have heard him spoken of.”
+
+“You are right, Aramis, let us travel on.”
+
+To describe the impatience and anxiety of these two friends would be impossible. Uneasiness took possession of the tender, constant heart of Athos, and fearful forecasts were the torment of the impulsive Aramis. They galloped on for two or three hours as furiously as the cavaliers on the wall. All at once, in a narrow pass, they perceived that the road was partially barricaded by an enormous stone. It had evidently been rolled across the pass by some arm of giant strength.
+
+Aramis stopped.
+
+“Oh!” he said, looking at the stone, “this is the work of either Hercules or Porthos. Let us get down, count, and examine this rock.”
+
+They both alighted. The stone had been brought with the evident intention of barricading the road, but some one having perceived the obstacle had partially turned it aside.
+
+With the assistance of Blaisois and Grimaud the friends succeeded in turning the stone over. Upon the side next the ground were scratched the following words:
+
+“Eight of the light dragoons are pursuing us. If we reach Compiegne we shall stop at the Peacock. It is kept by a friend of ours.”
+
+“At last we have something definite,” said Athos; “let us go to the Peacock.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Aramis, “but if we are to get there we must rest our horses, for they are almost broken-winded.”
+
+Aramis was right; they stopped at the first tavern and made each horse swallow a double quantity of corn steeped in wine; they gave them three hours’ rest and then set off again. The men themselves were almost dead with fatigue, but hope supported them.
+
+In six hours they reached Compiegne and alighted at the Peacock. The host proved to be a worthy man, as bald as a Chinaman. They asked him if some time ago he had not received in his house two gentlemen who were pursued by dragoons; without answering he went out and brought in the blade of a rapier.
+
+“Do you know that?” he asked.
+
+Athos merely glanced at it.
+
+“’Tis D’Artagnan’s sword,” he said.
+
+“Does it belong to the smaller or to the larger of the two?” asked the host.
+
+“To the smaller.”
+
+“I see that you are the friends of these gentlemen.”
+
+“Well, what has happened to them?”
+
+“They were pursued by eight of the light dragoons, who rode into the courtyard before they had time to close the gate.”
+
+“Eight!” said Aramis; “it surprises me that two such heroes as Porthos and D’Artagnan should have allowed themselves to be arrested by eight men.”
+
+“The eight men would doubtless have failed had they not been assisted by twenty soldiers of the regiment of Italians in the king’s service, who are in garrison in this town so that your friends were overpowered by numbers.”
+
+“Arrested, were they?” inquired Athos; “is it known why?”
+
+“No, sir, they were carried off instantly, and had not even time to tell me why; but as soon as they were gone I found this broken sword-blade, as I was helping to raise two dead men and five or six wounded ones.”
+
+“’Tis still a consolation that they were not wounded,” said Aramis.
+
+“Where were they taken?” asked Athos.
+
+“Toward the town of Louvres,” was the reply.
+
+The two friends having agreed to leave Blaisois and Grimaud at Compiegne with the horses, resolved to take post horses; and having snatched a hasty dinner they continued their journey to Louvres. Here they found only one inn, in which was consumed a liqueur which preserves its reputation to our time and which is still made in that town.
+
+“Let us alight here,” said Athos. “D’Artagnan will not have let slip an opportunity of drinking a glass of this liqueur, and at the same time leaving some trace of himself.”
+
+They went into the town and asked for two glasses of liqueur, at the counter — as their friends must have done before them. The counter was covered with a plate of pewter; upon this plate was written with the point of a large pin: “Rueil... D..”
+
+“They went to Rueil,” cried Aramis.
+
+“Let us go to Rueil,” said Athos.
+
+“It is to throw ourselves into the wolf’s jaws,” said Aramis.
+
+“Had I been as great a friend of Jonah as I am of D’Artagnan I should have followed him even into the inside of the whale itself; and you would have done the same, Aramis.”
+
+“Certainly — but you make me out better than I am, dear count. Had I been alone I should scarcely have gone to Rueil without great caution. But where you go, I go.”
+
+They then set off for Rueil. Here the deputies of the parliament had just arrived, in order to enter upon those famous conferences which were to last three weeks, and produced eventually that shameful peace, at the conclusion of which the prince was arrested. Rueil was crowded with advocates, presidents and councillors, who came from the Parisians, and, on the side of the court, with officers and guards; it was therefore easy, in the midst of this confusion, to remain as unobserved as any one might wish; besides, the conferences implied a truce, and to arrest two gentlemen, even Frondeurs, at this time, would have been an attack on the rights of the people.
+
+The two friends mingled with the crowd and fancied that every one was occupied with the same thought that tormented them. They expected to hear some mention made of D’Artagnan or of Porthos, but every one was engrossed by articles and reforms. It was the advice of Athos to go straight to the minister.
+
+“My friend,” said Aramis, “take care; our safety lies in our obscurity. If we were to make ourselves known we should be sent to rejoin our friends in some deep ditch, from which the devil himself could not take us out. Let us try not to find them out by accident, but from our notions. Arrested at Compiegne, they have been carried to Rueil; at Rueil they have been questioned by the cardinal, who has either kept them near him or sent them to Saint Germain. As to the Bastile, they are not there, though the Bastile is especially for the Frondeurs. They are not dead, for the death of D’Artagnan would make a sensation. As for Porthos, I believe him to be eternal, like God, although less patient. Do not let us despond, but wait at Rueil, for my conviction is that they are at Rueil. But what ails you? You are pale.”
+
+“It is this,” answered Athos, with a trembling voice.
+
+“I remember that at the Castle of Rueil the Cardinal Richelieu had some horrible ‘oubliettes’ constructed.”
+
+“Oh! never fear,” said Aramis. “Richelieu was a gentleman, our equal in birth, our superior in position. He could, like the king, touch the greatest of us on the head, and touching them make such heads shake on their shoulders. But Mazarin is a low-born rogue, who can at the most take us by the collar, like an archer. Be calm — for I am sure that D’Artagnan and Porthos are at Rueil, alive and well.”
+
+“But,” resumed Athos, “I recur to my first proposal. I know no better means than to act with candor. I shall seek, not Mazarin, but the queen, and say to her, ‘Madame, restore to us your two servants and our two friends.’”
+
+Aramis shook his head.
+
+“’Tis a last resource, but let us not employ it till it is imperatively called for; let us rather persevere in our researches.”
+
+They continued their inquiries and at last met with a light dragoon who had formed one of the guard which had escorted D’Artagnan to Rueil.
+
+Athos, however, perpetually recurred to his proposed interview with the queen.
+
+“In order to see the queen,” said Aramis, “we must first see the cardinal; and when we have seen the cardinal — remember what I tell you, Athos — we shall be reunited to our friends, but not in the way you wish. Now, that way of joining them is not very attractive to me, I confess. Let us act in freedom, that we may act well and quickly.”
+
+“I shall go,” he said, “to the queen.”
+
+“Well, then,” answered Aramis, “pray tell me a day or two beforehand, that I may take that opportunity of going to Paris.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“Zounds! how do I know? perhaps to Madame de Longueville. She is all-powerful yonder; she will help me. But send me word should you be arrested, for then I will return directly.”
+
+“Why do you not take your chance and be arrested with me?”
+
+“No, I thank you.”
+
+“Should we, by being arrested, be all four together again, we should not, I am not sure, be twenty-four hours in prison without getting free.”
+
+“My friend, since I killed Chatillon, adored of the ladies of Saint Germain, I am too great a celebrity not to fear a prison doubly. The queen is likely to follow Mazarin’s counsels and to have me tried.”
+
+“Do you think she loves this Italian so much as they say she does?”
+
+“Did she not love an Englishman?”
+
+“My friend, she is a woman.”
+
+“No, no, you are deceived — she is a queen.”
+
+“Dear friend, I shall sacrifice myself and go and see Anne of Austria.”
+
+“Adieu, Athos, I am going to raise an army.”
+
+“For what purpose?”
+
+“To come back and besiege Rueil.”
+
+“Where shall we meet again?”
+
+“At the foot of the cardinal’s gallows.”
+
+The two friends departed — Aramis to return to Paris, Athos to take measures preparatory to an interview with the queen.
+
+Chapter LXXX. The Gratitude of Anne of Austria.
+
+Athos found much less difficulty than he had expected in obtaining an audience of Anne of Austria. It was granted, and was to take place after her morning’s “levee,” at which, in accordance with his rights of birth, he was entitled to be present. A vast crowd filled the apartments of Saint Germain. Anne had never at the Louvre had so large a court; but this crowd represented chiefly the second class of nobility, while the Prince de Conti, the Duc de Beaufort and the coadjutor assembled around them the first nobility of France.
+
+The greatest possible gayety prevailed at court. The particular characteristic of this was that more songs were made than cannons fired during its continuance. The court made songs on the Parisians and the Parisians on the court; and the casualties, though not mortal, were painful, as are all wounds inflicted by the weapon of ridicule.
+
+In the midst of this seeming hilarity, nevertheless, people’s minds were uneasy. Was Mazarin to remain the favorite and minister of the queen? Was he to be carried back by the wind which had blown him there? Every one hoped so, so that the minister felt that all around him, beneath the homage of the courtiers, lay a fund of hatred, ill disguised by fear and interest. He felt ill at ease and at a loss what to do.
+
+Condé himself, whilst fighting for him, lost no opportunity of ridiculing, of humbling him. The queen, on whom he threw himself as sole support, seemed to him now not much to be relied upon.
+
+When the hour appointed for the audience arrived Athos was obliged to stay until the queen, who was waited upon by a new deputation from Paris, had consulted with her minister as to the propriety and manner of receiving them. All were fully engrossed with the affairs of the day; Athos could not therefore have chosen a more inauspicious moment to speak of his friends — poor atoms, lost in that raging whirlwind.
+
+But Athos was a man of inflexible determination; he firmly adhered to a purpose once formed, when it seemed to him to spring from conscience and to be prompted by a sense of duty. He insisted on being introduced, saying that although he was not a deputy from Monsieur de Conti, or Monsieur de Beaufort, or Monsieur de Bouillon, or Monsieur d’Elbeuf, or the coadjutor, or Madame de Longueville, or Broussel, or the Parliament, and although he had come on his own private account, he nevertheless had things to say to her majesty of the utmost importance.
+
+The conference being finished, the queen summoned him to her cabinet.
+
+Athos was introduced and announced by name. It was a name that too often resounded in her majesty’s ears and too often vibrated in her heart for Anne of Austria not to recognize it; yet she remained impassive, looking at him with that fixed stare which is tolerated only in women who are queens, either by the power of beauty or by the right of birth.
+
+“It is then a service which you propose to render us, count?” asked Anne of Austria, after a moment’s silence.
+
+“Yes, madame, another service,” said Athos, shocked that the queen did not seem to recognize him.
+
+Athos had a noble heart, and made, therefore, but a poor courtier.
+
+Anne frowned. Mazarin, who was sitting at a table folding up papers, as if he had only been a secretary of state, looked up.
+
+“Speak,” said the queen.
+
+Mazarin turned again to his papers.
+
+“Madame,” resumed Athos, “two of my friends, named D’Artagnan and Monsieur du Vallon, sent to England by the cardinal, suddenly disappeared when they set foot on the shores of France; no one knows what has become of them.”
+
+“Well?” said the queen.
+
+“I address myself, therefore, first to the benevolence of your majesty, that I may know what has become of my friends, reserving to myself, if necessary, the right of appealing hereafter to your justice.”
+
+“Sir,” replied Anne, with a degree of haughtiness which to certain persons became impertinence, “this is the reason that you trouble me in the midst of so many absorbing concerns! an affair for the police! Well, sir, you ought to know that we no longer have a police, since we are no longer at Paris.”
+
+“I think your majesty will have no need to apply to the police to know where my friends are, but that if you will deign to interrogate the cardinal he can reply without any further inquiry than into his own recollections.”
+
+“But, God forgive me!” cried Anne, with that disdainful curl of the lips peculiar to her, “I believe that you are yourself interrogating.”
+
+“Yes, madame, here I have a right to do so, for it concerns Monsieur d’Artagnan — -d’Artagnan,” he repeated, in such a manner as to bow the regal brow with recollections of the weak and erring woman.
+
+The cardinal saw that it was now high time to come to the assistance of Anne.
+
+“Sir,” he said, “I can tell you what is at present unknown to her majesty. These individuals are under arrest. They disobeyed orders.”
+
+“I beg of your majesty, then,” said Athos, calmly and not replying to Mazarin, “to quash these arrests of Messieurs d’Artagnan and du Vallon.”
+
+“What you ask is merely an affair of discipline and does not concern me,” said the queen.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan never made such an answer as that when the service of your majesty was concerned,” said Athos, bowing with great dignity. He was going toward the door when Mazarin stopped him.
+
+“You, too, have been in England, sir?” he said, making a sign to the queen, who was evidently going to issue a severe order.
+
+“I was a witness of the last hours of Charles I. Poor king! culpable, at the most, of weakness, how cruelly punished by his subjects! Thrones are at this time shaken and it is to little purpose for devoted hearts to serve the interests of princes. This is the second time that Monsieur d’Artagnan has been in England. He went the first time to save the honor of a great queen; the second, to avert the death of a great king.”
+
+“Sir,” said Anne to Mazarin, with an accent from which daily habits of dissimulation could not entirely chase the real expression, “see if we can do something for these gentlemen.”
+
+“I wish to do, madame, all that your majesty pleases.”
+
+“Do what Monsieur de la Fere requests; that is your name, is it not, sir?”
+
+“I have another name, madame — I am called Athos.”
+
+“Madame,” said Mazarin, with a smile, “you may rest easy; your wishes shall be fulfilled.”
+
+“You hear, sir?” said the queen.
+
+“Yes, madame, I expected nothing less from the justice of your majesty. May I not go and see my friends?”
+
+“Yes, sir, you shall see them. But, apropos, you belong to the Fronde, do you not?”
+
+“Madame, I serve the king.”
+
+“Yes, in your own way.”
+
+“My way is the way of all gentlemen, and I know only one way,” answered Athos, haughtily.
+
+“Go, sir, then,” said the queen; “you have obtained what you wish and we know all we desire to know.”
+
+Scarcely, however, had the tapestry closed behind Athos when she said to Mazarin:
+
+“Cardinal, desire them to arrest that insolent fellow before he leaves the court.”
+
+“Your majesty,” answered Mazarin, “desires me to do only what I was going to ask you to let me do. These bravoes who resuscitate in our epoch the traditions of another reign are troublesome; since there are two of them already there, let us add a third.”
+
+Athos was not altogether the queen’s dupe, but he was not a man to run away on suspicion — above all, when distinctly told that he should see his friends again. He waited, then, in the ante-chamber with impatience, till he should be conducted to them.
+
+He walked to the window and looked into the court. He saw the deputation from the Parisians enter it; they were coming to assign the definitive place for the conference and to make their bow to the queen. A very imposing escort awaited them without the gates.
+
+Athos was looking on attentively, when some one touched him softly on the shoulder.
+
+“Ah! Monsieur de Comminges,” he said.
+
+“Yes, count, and charged with a commission for which I beg of you to accept my excuses.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Be so good as to give me up your sword, count.”
+
+Athos smiled and opened the window.
+
+“Aramis!” he cried.
+
+A gentleman turned around. Athos fancied he had seen him among the crowd. It was Aramis. He bowed with great friendship to the count.
+
+“Aramis,” cried Athos, “I am arrested.”
+
+“Good,” replied Aramis, calmly.
+
+“Sir,” said Athos, turning to Comminges and giving him politely his sword by the hilt, “here is my sword; have the kindness to keep it safely for me until I quit my prison. I prize it — it was given to my ancestor by King Francis I. In his time they armed gentlemen, not disarmed them. Now, whither do you conduct me?”
+
+“Into my room first,” replied Comminges; “the queen will ultimately decide your place of domicile.”
+
+Athos followed Comminges without saying a single word.
+
+Chapter LXXXI. Cardinal Mazarin as King.
+
+The arrest produced no sensation, indeed was almost unknown, and scarcely interrupted the course of events. To the deputation it was formally announced that the queen would receive it.
+
+Accordingly, it was admitted to the presence of Anne, who, silent and lofty as ever, listened to the speeches and complaints of the deputies; but when they had finished their harangues not one of them could say, so calm remained her face, whether or no she had heard them.
+
+On the other hand, Mazarin, present at that audience, heard very well what those deputies demanded. It was purely and simply his removal, in terms clear and precise.
+
+The discourse being finished, the queen remained silent.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Mazarin, “I join with you in supplicating the queen to put an end to the miseries of her subjects. I have done all in my power to ameliorate them and yet the belief of the public, you say, is that they proceed from me, an unhappy foreigner, who has been unable to please the French. Alas! I have never been understood, and no wonder. I succeeded a man of the most sublime genius that ever upheld the sceptre of France. The memory of Richelieu annihilates me. In vain — were I an ambitious man — should I struggle against such remembrances as he has left; but that I am not ambitious I am going to prove to you. I own myself conquered. I shall obey the wishes of the people. If Paris has injuries to complain of, who has not some wrongs to be redressed? Paris has been sufficiently punished; enough blood has flowed, enough misery has humbled a town deprived of its king and of justice. ’Tis not for me, a private individual, to disunite a queen from her kingdom. Since you demand my resignation, I retire.”
+
+“Then,” said Aramis, in his neighbor’s ear, “the conferences are over. There is nothing to do but to send Monsieur Mazarin to the most distant frontier and to take care that he does not return even by that, nor any other entrance into France.”
+
+“One instant, sir,” said the man in a gown, whom he addressed; “a plague on’t! how fast you go! one may soon see that you’re a soldier. There’s the article of remunerations and indemnifications to be discussed and set to rights.”
+
+“Chancellor,” said the queen, turning to Seguier, our old acquaintance, “you will open the conferences. They can take place at Rueil. The cardinal has said several things which have agitated me, therefore I will not speak more fully now. As to his going or staying, I feel too much gratitude to the cardinal not to leave him free in all his actions; he shall do what he wishes to do.”
+
+A transient pallor overspread the speaking countenance of the prime minister; he looked at the queen with anxiety. Her face was so passionless, that he, as every one else present, was incapable of reading her thoughts.
+
+“But,” added the queen, “in awaiting the cardinal’s decision let there be, if you please, a reference to the king only.”
+
+The deputies bowed and left the room.
+
+“What!” exclaimed the queen, when the last of them had quitted the apartment, “you would yield to these limbs of the law — these advocates?”
+
+“To promote your majesty’s welfare, madame,” replied Mazarin, fixing his penetrating eyes on the queen, “there is no sacrifice that I would not make.”
+
+Anne dropped her head and fell into one of those reveries so habitual with her. A recollection of Athos came into her mind. His fearless deportment, his words, so firm, yet dignified, the shades which by one word he had evoked, recalled to her the past in all its intoxication of poetry and romance, youth, beauty, the eclat of love at twenty years of age, the bloody death of Buckingham, the only man whom she had ever really loved, and the heroism of those obscure champions who had saved her from the double hatred of Richelieu and the king.
+
+Mazarin looked at her, and whilst she deemed herself alone and freed from the world of enemies who sought to spy into her secret thoughts, he read her thoughts in her countenance, as one sees in a transparent lake clouds pass — reflections, like thoughts, of the heavens.
+
+“Must we, then,” asked Anne of Austria, “yield to the storm, buy peace, and patiently and piously await better times?”
+
+Mazarin smiled sarcastically at this speech, which showed that she had taken the minister’s proposal seriously.
+
+Anne’s head was bent down — she had not seen the Italian’s smile; but finding that her question elicited no reply she looked up.
+
+“Well, you do not answer, cardinal, what do you think about it?”
+
+“I am thinking, madame, of the allusion made by that insolent gentleman, whom you have caused to be arrested, to the Duke of Buckingham — to him whom you allowed to be assassinated — to the Duchess de Chevreuse, whom you suffered to be exiled — to the Duc de Beaufort, whom you imprisoned; but if he made allusion to me it was because he is ignorant of the relation in which I stand to you.”
+
+Anne drew up, as she always did, when anything touched her pride. She blushed, and that she might not answer, clasped her beautiful hands till her sharp nails almost pierced them.
+
+“That man has sagacity, honor and wit, not to mention likewise that he is a man of undoubted resolution. You know something about him, do you not, madame? I shall tell him, therefore, and in doing so I shall confer a personal favor on him, how he is mistaken in regard to me. What is proposed to me would be, in fact, almost an abdication, and an abdication requires reflection.”
+
+“An abdication?” repeated Anne; “I thought, sir, that it was kings alone who abdicated!”
+
+“Well,” replied Mazarin, “and am I not almost a king — king, indeed, of France? Thrown over the foot of the royal bed, my simar, madame, looks not unlike the mantle worn by kings.”
+
+This was one of the humiliations which Mazarin made Anne undergo more frequently than any other, and one that bowed her head with shame. Queen Elizabeth and Catherine II. of Russia are the only two monarchs of their set on record who were at once sovereigns and lovers. Anne of Austria looked with a sort of terror at the threatening aspect of the cardinal — his physiognomy in such moments was not destitute of a certain grandeur.
+
+“Sir,” she replied, “did I not say, and did you not hear me say to those people, that you should do as you pleased?”
+
+“In that case,” said Mazarin, “I think it must please me best to remain; not only on account of my own interest, but for your safety.”
+
+“Remain, then, sir; nothing can be more agreeable to me; only do not allow me to be insulted.”
+
+“You are referring to the demands of the rebels and to the tone in which they stated them? Patience! They have selected a field of battle on which I am an abler general than they — that of a conference. No, we shall beat them by merely temporizing. They want food already. They will be ten times worse off in a week.”
+
+“Ah, yes! Good heavens! I know it will end in that way; but it is not they who taunt me with the most wounding reproaches, but — — ”
+
+“I understand; you mean to allude to the recollections perpetually revived by these three gentlemen. However, we have them safe in prison, and they are just sufficiently culpable for us to keep them in prison as long as we find it convenient. One only is still not in our power and braves us. But, devil take him! we shall soon succeed in sending him to join his boon companions. We have accomplished more difficult things than that. In the first place I have as a precaution shut up at Rueil, near me, under my own eyes, within reach of my hand, the two most intractable ones. To-day the third will be there also.”
+
+“As long as they are in prison all will be well,” said Anne, “but one of these days they will get out.”
+
+“Yes, if your majesty releases them.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Anne, following the train of her own thoughts on such occasions, “one regrets Paris!”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“On account of the Bastile, sir, which is so strong and so secure.”
+
+“Madame, these conferences will bring us peace; when we have peace we shall regain Paris; with Paris, the Bastile, and our four bullies shall rot therein.”
+
+Anne frowned slightly when Mazarin, in taking leave, kissed her hand.
+
+Mazarin, after this half humble, half gallant attention, went away. Anne followed him with her eyes, and as he withdrew, at every step he took, a disdainful smile was seen playing, then gradually burst upon her lips.
+
+“I once,” she said, “despised the love of a cardinal who never said ‘I shall do,’ but, ‘I have done so and so.’ That man knew of retreats more secure than Rueil, darker and more silent even than the Bastile. Degenerate world!”
+
+Chapter LXXXII. Precautions.
+
+After quitting Anne, Mazarin took the road to Rueil, where he usually resided; in those times of disturbance he went about with numerous followers and often disguised himself. In military dress he was, indeed, as we have stated, a very handsome man.
+
+In the court of the old Chateau of Saint Germain he entered his coach, and reached the Seine at Chatou. The prince had supplied him with fifty light horse, not so much by way of guard as to show the deputies how readily the queen’s generals dispersed their troops and to prove that they might be safely scattered at pleasure. Athos, on horseback, without his sword and kept in sight by Comminges, followed the cardinal in silence. Grimaud, finding that his master had been arrested, fell back into the ranks near Aramis, without saying a word and as if nothing had happened.
+
+Grimaud had, indeed, during twenty-two years of service, seen his master extricate himself from so many difficulties that nothing less than Athos’s imminent death was likely to make him uneasy.
+
+At the branching off of the road toward Paris, Aramis, who had followed in the cardinal’s suite, turned back. Mazarin went to the right hand and Aramis could see the prisoner disappear at the turning of the avenue. Athos, at the same moment, moved by a similar impulse, looked back also. The two friends exchanged a simple inclination of the head and Aramis put his finger to his hat, as if to bow, Athos alone comprehending by that signal that he had some project in his head.
+
+Ten minutes afterward Mazarin entered the court of that chateau which his predecessor had built for him at Rueil; as he alighted, Comminges approached him.
+
+“My lord,” he asked, “where does your eminence wish Monsieur Comte de la Fere to be lodged?”
+
+“In the pavilion of the orangery, of course, in front of the pavilion where the guard is. I wish every respect to be shown the count, although he is the prisoner of her majesty the queen.”
+
+“My lord,” answered Comminges, “he begs to be taken to the place where Monsieur d’Artagnan is confined — that is, in the hunting lodge, opposite the orangery.”
+
+Mazarin thought for an instant.
+
+Comminges saw that he was undecided.
+
+“’Tis a very strong post,” he resumed, “and we have forty good men, tried soldiers, having no connection with Frondeurs nor any interest in the Fronde.”
+
+“If we put these three men together, Monsieur Comminges,” said Mazarin, “we must double the guard, and we are not rich enough in fighting men to commit such acts of prodigality.”
+
+Comminges smiled; Mazarin read and construed that smile.
+
+“You do not know these men, Monsieur Comminges, but I know them, first personally, also by hearsay. I sent them to carry aid to King Charles and they performed prodigies to save him; had it not been for an adverse destiny, that beloved monarch would this day have been among us.”
+
+“But since they served your eminence so well, why are they, my lord cardinal, in prison?”
+
+“In prison?” said Mazarin, “and when has Rueil been a prison?”
+
+“Ever since there were prisoners in it,” answered Comminges.
+
+“These gentlemen, Comminges, are not prisoners,” returned Mazarin, with his ironical smile, “only guests; but guests so precious that I have put a grating before each of their windows and bolts to their doors, that they may not refuse to continue my visitors. So much do I esteem them that I am going to make the Comte de la Fere a visit, that I may converse with him tete-a-tete, and that we may not be disturbed at our interview you must conduct him, as I said before, to the pavilion of the orangery; that, you know, is my daily promenade. Well, while taking my walk I will call on him and we will talk. Although he professes to be my enemy I have sympathy for him, and if he is reasonable perhaps we shall arrange matters.”
+
+Comminges bowed, and returned to Athos, who was awaiting with apparent calmness, but with real anxiety, the result of the interview.
+
+“Well?” he said to the lieutenant.
+
+“Sir,” replied Comminges, “it seems that it is impossible.”
+
+“Monsieur de Comminges,” said Athos, “I have been a soldier all my life and I know the force of orders; but outside your orders there is a service you can render me.”
+
+“I will do it with all my heart,” said Comminges; “for I know who you are and what service you once performed for her majesty; I know, too, how dear to you is the young man who came so valiantly to my aid when that old rogue of a Broussel was arrested. I am entirely at your service, except only for my orders.”
+
+“Thank you, sir; what I am about to ask will not compromise you in any degree.”
+
+“If it should even compromise me a little,” said Monsieur de Comminges, with a smile, “still make your demand. I don’t like Mazarin any better than you do. I serve the queen and that draws me naturally into the service of the cardinal; but I serve the one with joy and the other against my will. Speak, then, I beg of you; I wait and listen.”
+
+“Since there is no harm,” said Athos, “in my knowing that D’Artagnan is here, I presume there will be none in his knowing that I am here.”
+
+“I have received no orders on that point.”
+
+“Well, then, do me the kindness to give him my regards and tell him that I am his neighbor. Tell him also what you have just told me — that Mazarin has placed me in the pavilion of the orangery in order to make me a visit, and assure him that I shall take advantage of this honor he proposes to accord to me to obtain from him some amelioration of our captivity.”
+
+“Which cannot last,” interrupted Comminges; “the cardinal said so; there is no prison here.”
+
+“But there are oubliettes!” replied Athos, smiling.
+
+“Oh! that’s a different thing; yes, I know there are traditions of that sort,” said Comminges. “It was in the time of the other cardinal, who was a great nobleman; but our Mazarin — impossible! an Italian adventurer would not dare to go such lengths with such men as ourselves. Oubliettes are employed as a means of kingly vengeance, and a low-born fellow such as he is would not have recourse to them. Your arrest is known, that of your friends will soon be known; and all the nobility of France would demand an explanation of your disappearance. No, no, be easy on that score. I will, however, inform Monsieur d’Artagnan of your arrival here.”
+
+Comminges then led the count to a room on the ground floor of a pavilion, at the end of the orangery. They passed through a courtyard as they went, full of soldiers and courtiers. In the centre of this court, in the form of a horseshoe, were the buildings occupied by Mazarin, and at each wing the pavilion (or smaller building), where D’Artagnan was confined, and that, level with the orangery, where Athos was to be. From the ends of these two wings extended the park.
+
+Athos, when he reached his appointed room, observed through the gratings of his window, walls and roofs; and was told, on inquiry, by Comminges, that he was looking on the back of the pavilion where D’Artagnan was confined.
+
+“Yes, ’tis too true,” said Comminges, “’tis almost a prison; but what a singular fancy this is of yours, count — you, who are the very flower of our nobility — to squander your valor and loyalty amongst these upstarts, the Frondists! Really, count, if ever I thought that I had a friend in the ranks of the royal army, it was you. A Frondeur! you, the Comte de la Fere, on the side of Broussel, Blancmesnil and Viole! For shame! you, a Frondeur!”
+
+“On my word of honor,” said Athos, “one must be either a Mazarinist or a Frondeur. For a long time I had these words whispered in my ears, and I chose the latter; at any rate, it is a French word. And now, I am a Frondeur — not of Broussel’s party, nor of Blancmesnil’s, nor am I with Viole; but with the Duc de Beaufort, the Ducs de Bouillon and d’Elbeuf; with princes, not with presidents, councillors and low-born lawyers. Besides, what a charming outlook it would have been to serve the cardinal! Look at that wall — without a single window — which tells you fine things about Mazarin’s gratitude!”
+
+“Yes,” replied De Comminges, “more especially if it could reveal how Monsieur d’Artagnan for this last week has been anathematizing him.”
+
+“Poor D’Artagnan’” said Athos, with the charming melancholy that was one of the traits of his character, “so brave, so good, so terrible to the enemies of those he loves. You have two unruly prisoners there, sir.”
+
+“Unruly,” Comminges smiled; “you wish to terrify me, I suppose. When he came here, Monsieur D’Artagnan provoked and braved the soldiers and inferior officers, in order, I suppose, to have his sword back. That mood lasted some time; but now he’s as gentle as a lamb and sings Gascon songs, which make one die of laughing.”
+
+“And Du Vallon?” asked Athos.
+
+“Ah, he’s quite another sort of person — a formidable gentleman, indeed. The first day he broke all the doors in with a single push of his shoulder; and I expected to see him leave Rueil in the same way as Samson left Gaza. But his temper cooled down, like his friend’s; he not only gets used to his captivity, but jokes about it.”
+
+“So much the better,” said Athos.
+
+“Do you think anything else was to be expected of them?” asked Comminges, who, putting together what Mazarin had said of his prisoners and what the Comte de la Fere had said, began to feel a degree of uneasiness.
+
+Athos, on the other hand, reflected that this recent gentleness of his friends most certainly arose from some plan formed by D’Artagnan. Unwilling to injure them by praising them too highly, he replied: “They? They are two hotheads — the one a Gascon, the other from Picardy; both are easily excited, but they quiet down immediately. You have had a proof of that in what you have just related to me.”
+
+This, too, was the opinion of Comminges, who withdrew somewhat reassured. Athos remained alone in the vast chamber, where, according to the cardinal’s directions, he was treated with all the courtesy due to a nobleman. He awaited Mazarin’s promised visit to get some light on his present situation.
+
+Chapter LXXXIII. Strength and Sagacity.
+
+Now let us pass the orangery to the hunting lodge. At the extremity of the courtyard, where, close to a portico formed of Ionic columns, were the dog kennels, rose an oblong building, the pavilion of the orangery, a half circle, inclosing the court of honor. It was in this pavilion, on the ground floor, that D’Artagnan and Porthos were confined, suffering interminable hours of imprisonment in a manner suitable to each different temperament.
+
+D’Artagnan was pacing to and fro like a caged tiger; with dilated eyes, growling as he paced along by the bars of a window looking upon the yard of servant’s offices.
+
+Porthos was ruminating over an excellent dinner he had just demolished.
+
+The one seemed to be deprived of reason, yet he was meditating. The other seemed to meditate, yet he was more than half asleep. But his sleep was a nightmare, which might be guessed by the incoherent manner in which he sometimes snored and sometimes snorted.
+
+“Look,” said D’Artagnan, “day is declining. It must be nearly four o’clock. We have been in this place nearly eighty-three hours.”
+
+“Hem!” muttered Porthos, with a kind of pretense of answering.
+
+“Did you hear, eternal sleeper?” cried D’Artagnan, irritated that any one could doze during the day, when he had the greatest difficulty in sleeping during the night.
+
+“What?” said Porthos.
+
+“I say we have been here eighty-three hours.”
+
+“’Tis your fault,” answered Porthos.
+
+“How, my fault?”
+
+“Yes, I offered you escape.”
+
+“By pulling out a bar and pushing down a door?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Porthos, men like us can’t go out from here purely and simply.”
+
+“Faith!” said Porthos, “as for me, I could go out with that purity and that simplicity which it seems to me you despise too much.”
+
+D’Artagnan shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“And besides,” he said, “going out of this chamber isn’t all.”
+
+“Dear friend,” said Porthos, “you appear to be in a somewhat better humor to-day than you were yesterday. Explain to me why going out of this chamber isn’t everything.”
+
+“Because, having neither arms nor password, we shouldn’t take fifty steps in the court without knocking against a sentinel.”
+
+“Very well,” said Porthos, “we will kill the sentinel and we shall have his arms.”
+
+“Yes, but before we can kill him — and he will be hard to kill, that Swiss — he will shriek out and the whole picket will come, and we shall be taken like foxes, we, who are lions, and thrown into some dungeon, where we shall not even have the consolation of seeing this frightful gray sky of Rueil, which no more resembles the sky of Tarbes than the moon is like the sun. Lack-a-day! if we only had some one to instruct us about the physical and moral topography of this castle. Ah! when one thinks that for twenty years, during which time I did not know what to do with myself, it never occurred to me to come to study Rueil.”
+
+“What difference does that make?” said Porthos. “We shall go out all the same.”
+
+“Do you know, my dear fellow, why master pastrycooks never work with their hands?”
+
+“No,” said Porthos, “but I should be glad to be informed.”
+
+“It is because in the presence of their pupils they fear that some of their tarts or creams may turn out badly cooked.”
+
+“What then?”
+
+“Why, then they would be laughed at, and a master pastrycook must never be laughed at.”
+
+“And what have master pastrycooks to do with us?”
+
+“We ought, in our adventures, never to be defeated or give any one a chance to laugh at us. In England, lately, we failed, we were beaten, and that is a blemish on our reputation.”
+
+“By whom, then, were we beaten?” asked Porthos.
+
+“By Mordaunt.”
+
+“Yes, but we have drowned Monsieur Mordaunt.”
+
+“That is true, and that will redeem us a little in the eyes of posterity, if posterity ever looks at us. But listen, Porthos: though Monsieur Mordaunt was a man not to be despised, Mazarin is not less strong than he, and we shall not easily succeed in drowning him. We must, therefore, watch and play a close game; for,” he added with a sigh, “we two are equal, perhaps, to eight others; but we are not equal to the four that you know of.”
+
+“That is true,” said Porthos, echoing D’Artagnan’s sigh.
+
+“Well, Porthos, follow my examples; walk back and forth till some news of our friends reaches us or till we are visited by a good idea. But don’t sleep as you do all the time; nothing dulls the intellect like sleep. As to what may lie before us, it is perhaps less serious than we at first thought. I don’t believe that Monsieur de Mazarin thinks of cutting off our heads, for heads are not taken off without previous trial; a trial would make a noise, and a noise would get the attention of our friends, who would check the operations of Monsieur de Mazarin.”
+
+“How well you reason!” said Porthos, admiringly.
+
+“Well, yes, pretty well,” replied D’Artagnan; “and besides, you see, if they put us on trial, if they cut off our heads, they must meanwhile either keep us here or transfer us elsewhere.”
+
+“Yes, that is inevitable,” said Porthos.
+
+“Well, it is impossible but that Master Aramis, that keen-scented bloodhound, and Athos, that wise and prudent nobleman, will discover our retreat. Then, believe me, it will be time to act.”
+
+“Yes, we will wait. We can wait the more contentedly, that it is not absolutely bad here, but for one thing, at least.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Did you observe, D’Artagnan, that three days running they have brought us braised mutton?”
+
+“No; but if it occurs a fourth time I shall complain of it, so never mind.”
+
+“And then I feel the loss of my house, ’tis a long time since I visited my castles.”
+
+“Forget them for a time; we shall return to them, unless Mazarin razes them to the ground.”
+
+“Do you think that likely?”
+
+“No, the other cardinal would have done so, but this one is too mean a fellow to risk it.”
+
+“You reconcile me, D’Artagnan.”
+
+“Well, then, assume a cheerful manner, as I do; we must joke with the guards, we must gain the good-will of the soldiers, since we can’t corrupt them. Try, Porthos, to please them more than you are wont to do when they are under our windows. Thus far you have done nothing but show them your fist; and the more respectable your fist is, Porthos, the less attractive it is. Ah, I would give much to have five hundred louis, only.”
+
+“So would I,” said Porthos, unwilling to be behind D’Artagnan in generosity; “I would give as much as a hundred pistoles.”
+
+The two prisoners were at this point of their conversation when Comminges entered, preceded by a sergeant and two men, who brought supper in a basket with two handles, filled with basins and plates.
+
+“What!” exclaimed Porthos, “mutton again?”
+
+“My dear Monsieur de Comminges,” said D’Artagnan, “you will find that my friend, Monsieur du Vallon, will go to the most fatal lengths if Cardinal Mazarin continues to provide us with this sort of meat; mutton every day.”
+
+“I declare,” said Porthos, “I shall eat nothing if they do not take it away.”
+
+“Remove the mutton,” cried Comminges; “I wish Monsieur du Vallon to sup well, more especially as I have news to give him that will improve his appetite.”
+
+“Is Mazarin dead?” asked Porthos.
+
+“No; I am sorry to tell you he is perfectly well.”
+
+“So much the worse,” said Porthos.
+
+“What is that news?” asked D’Artagnan. “News in prison is a fruit so rare that I trust, Monsieur de Comminges, you will excuse my impatience — the more eager since you have given us to understand that the news is good.”
+
+“Should you be glad to hear that the Comte de la Fere is well?” asked De Comminges.
+
+D’Artagnan’s penetrating gray eyes were opened to the utmost.
+
+“Glad!” he cried; “I should be more than glad! Happy — beyond measure!”
+
+“Well, I am desired by him to give you his compliments and to say that he is in good health.”
+
+D’Artagnan almost leaped with joy. A quick glance conveyed his thought to Porthos: “If Athos knows where we are, if he opens communication with us, before long Athos will act.”
+
+Porthos was not very quick to understand the language of glances, but now since the name of Athos had suggested to him the same idea, he understood.
+
+“Do you say,” asked the Gascon, timidly, “that the Comte de la Fere has commissioned you to give his compliments to Monsieur du Vallon and myself?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Then you have seen him?”
+
+“Certainly I have.”
+
+“Where? if I may ask without indiscretion.”
+
+“Near here,” replied De Comminges, smiling; “so near that if the windows which look on the orangery were not stopped up you could see him from where you are.”
+
+“He is wandering about the environs of the castle,” thought D’Artagnan. Then he said aloud:
+
+“You met him, I dare say, in the park — hunting, perhaps?”
+
+“No; nearer, nearer still. Look, behind this wall,” said De Comminges, knocking against the wall.
+
+“Behind this wall? What is there, then, behind this wall? I was brought here by night, so devil take me if I know where I am.”
+
+“Well,” said Comminges, “suppose one thing.”
+
+“I will suppose anything you please.”
+
+“Suppose there were a window in this wall.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“From that window you would see Monsieur de la Fere at his.”
+
+“The count, then, is in the chateau?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“For what reason?”
+
+“The same as yourself.”
+
+“Athos — a prisoner?”
+
+“You know well,” replied De Comminges, “that there are no prisoners at Rueil, because there is no prison.”
+
+“Don’t let us play upon words, sir. Athos has been arrested.”
+
+“Yesterday, at Saint Germain, as he came out from the presence of the queen.”
+
+The arms of D’Artagnan fell powerless by his side. One might have supposed him thunderstruck; a paleness ran like a cloud over his dark skin, but disappeared immediately.
+
+“A prisoner?” he reiterated.
+
+“A prisoner,” repeated Porthos, quite dejected.
+
+Suddenly D’Artagnan looked up and in his eyes there was a gleam which scarcely even Porthos observed; but it died away and he appeared more sorrowful than before.
+
+“Come, come,” said Comminges, who, since D’Artagnan, on the day of Broussel’s arrest, had saved him from the hands of the Parisians, had entertained a real affection for him, “don’t be unhappy; I never thought of bringing you bad news. Laugh at the chance which has brought your friend near to you and Monsieur du Vallon, instead of being in the depths of despair about it.”
+
+But D’Artagnan was still in a desponding mood.
+
+“And how did he look?” asked Porthos, who, perceiving that D’Artagnan had allowed the conversation to drop, profited by it to put in a word or two.
+
+“Very well, indeed, sir,” replied Comminges; “at first, like you, he seemed distressed; but when he heard that the cardinal was going to pay him a visit this very evening — — ”
+
+“Ah!” cried D’Artagnan, “the cardinal is about to visit the Comte de la Fere?”
+
+“Yes; and the count desired me to tell you that he should take advantage of this visit to plead for you and for himself.”
+
+“Ah! our dear count!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“A fine thing, indeed!” grunted Porthos. “A great favor! Zounds! Monsieur the Comte de la Fere, whose family is allied to the Montmorency and the Rohan, is easily the equal of Monsieur de Mazarin.”
+
+“No matter,” said D’Artagnan, in his most wheedling tone. “On reflection, my dear Du Vallon, it is a great honor for the Comte de la Fere, and gives good reason to hope. In fact, it seems to me so great an honor for a prisoner that I think Monsieur de Comminges must be mistaken.”
+
+“What? I am mistaken?”
+
+“Monsieur de Mazarin will not come to visit the Comte de la Fere, but the Comte de la Fere will be sent for to visit him.”
+
+“No, no, no,” said Comminges, who made a point of having the facts appear exactly as they were, “I clearly understood what the cardinal said to me. He will come and visit the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+D’Artagnan tried to gather from the expression of his eyes whether Porthos understood the importance of that visit, but Porthos did not even look toward him.
+
+“It is, then, the cardinal’s custom to walk in his orangery?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Every evening he shuts himself in there. That, it seems, is where he meditates on state affairs.”
+
+“In that case,” said D’Artagnan, “I begin to believe that Monsieur de la Fere will receive the visit of his eminence; he will, of course, have an escort.”
+
+“Yes — two soldiers.”
+
+“And will he talk thus of affairs in presence of two strangers?”
+
+“The soldiers are Swiss, who understand only German. Besides, according to all probability they will wait at the door.”
+
+D’Artagnan made a violent effort over himself to keep his face from being too expressive.
+
+“Let the cardinal take care of going alone to visit the Comte de la Fere,” said D’Artagnan; “for the count must be furious.”
+
+Comminges began to laugh. “Oh, oh! why, really, one would say that you four were anthropaphagi! The count is an affable man; besides, he is unarmed; at the first word from his eminence the two soldiers about him would run to his assistance.”
+
+“Two soldiers,” said D’Artagnan, seeming to remember something, “two soldiers, yes; that, then, is why I hear two men called every evening and see them walking sometimes for half an hour, under my window.”
+
+“That is it; they are waiting for the cardinal, or rather for Bernouin, who comes to call them when the cardinal goes out.”
+
+“Fine-looking men, upon my word!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“They belong to the regiment that was at Lens, which the prince assigned to the cardinal.”
+
+“Ah, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, as if to sum up in a word all that conversation, “if only his eminence would relent and grant to Monsieur de la Fere our liberty.”
+
+“I wish it with all my heart,” said Comminges.
+
+“Then, if he should forget that visit, you would find no inconvenience in reminding him of it?”
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“Ah, that gives me more confidence.”
+
+This skillful turn of the conversation would have seemed a sublime manoeuvre to any one who could have read the Gascon’s soul.
+
+“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “I’ve one last favor to ask of you, Monsieur de Comminges.”
+
+“At your service, sir.”
+
+“You will see the count again?”
+
+“To-morrow morning.”
+
+“Will you remember us to him and ask him to solicit for me the same favor that he will have obtained?”
+
+“You want the cardinal to come here?”
+
+“No; I know my place and am not so presumptuous. Let his eminence do me the honor to give me a hearing; that is all I want.”
+
+“Oh!” muttered Porthos, shaking his head, “never should I have thought this of him! How misfortune humbles a man!”
+
+“I promise you it shall be done,” answered De Comminges.
+
+“Tell the count that I am well; that you found me sad, but resigned.”
+
+“I am pleased, sir, to hear that.”
+
+“And the same, also, for Monsieur du Vallon — — ”
+
+“Not for me,” cried Porthos; “I am not by any means resigned.”
+
+“But you will be resigned, my friend.”
+
+“Never!”
+
+“He will become so, monsieur; I know him better than he knows himself. Be silent, dear Du Vallon, and resign yourself.”
+
+“Adieu, gentlemen,” said De Comminges; “sleep well!”
+
+“We will try.”
+
+De Comminges went away, D’Artagnan remaining apparently in the same attitude of humble resignation; but scarcely had he departed when he turned and clasped Porthos in his arms with an expression not to be doubted.
+
+“Oh!” cried Porthos; “what’s the matter now? Have you gone mad, my dear friend?”
+
+“What is the matter?” returned D’Artagnan; “we are saved!”
+
+“I don’t see that at all,” answered Porthos. “I think we are all taken prisoners, except Aramis, and that our chances of getting out are lessened since one more of us is caught in Mazarin’s mousetrap.”
+
+“Which is far too strong for two of us, but not strong enough for three of us,” returned D’Artagnan.
+
+“I don’t understand,” said Porthos.
+
+“Never mind; let’s sit down to table and take something to strengthen us for the night.”
+
+“What are we to do, then, to-night?”
+
+“To travel — perhaps.”
+
+“But — — ”
+
+“Sit down, dear friend, to table. When one is eating, ideas flow easily. After supper, when they are perfected, I will communicate my plans to you.”
+
+So Porthos sat down to table without another word and ate with an appetite that did honor to the confidence that was ever inspired in him by D’Artagnan’s inventive imagination.
+
+Chapter LXXXIV. Strength and Sagacity — Continued.
+
+Supper was eaten in silence, but not in sadness; for from time to time one of those sweet smiles which were habitual to him in moments of good-humor illumined the face of D’Artagnan. Not a scintilla of these was lost on Porthos; and at every one he uttered an exclamation which betrayed to his friend that he had not lost sight of the idea which possessed his brain.
+
+At dessert D’Artagnan reposed in his chair, crossed one leg over the other and lounged about like a man perfectly at his ease.
+
+Porthos rested his chin on his hands, placed his elbows on the table and looked at D’Artagnan with an expression of confidence which imparted to that colossus an admirable appearance of good-fellowship.
+
+“Well?” said D’Artagnan, at last.
+
+“Well!” repeated Porthos.
+
+“You were saying, my dear friend — — ”
+
+“No; I said nothing.”
+
+“Yes; you were saying you wished to leave this place.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! the will was never wanting.”
+
+“To get away you would not mind, you added, knocking down a door or a wall.”
+
+“’Tis true — I said so, and I say it again.”
+
+“And I answered you, Porthos, that it was not a good plan; that we couldn’t go a hundred steps without being recaptured, because we were without clothes to disguise ourselves and arms to defend ourselves.”
+
+“That is true; we should need clothes and arms.”
+
+“Well,” said D’Artagnan, rising, “we have them, friend Porthos, and even something better.”
+
+“Bah!” said Porthos, looking around.
+
+“Useless to look; everything will come to us when wanted. At about what time did we see the two Swiss guards walking yesterday?”
+
+“An hour after sunset.”
+
+“If they go out to-day as they did yesterday we shall have the honor, then, of seeing them in half an hour?”
+
+“In a quarter of an hour at most.”
+
+“Your arm is still strong enough, is it not, Porthos?”
+
+Porthos unbuttoned his sleeve, raised his shirt and looked complacently on his strong arm, as large as the leg of any ordinary man.
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said he, “I believe so.”
+
+“So that you could without trouble convert these tongs into a hoop and yonder shovel into a corkscrew?”
+
+“Certainly.” And the giant took up these two articles, and without any apparent effort produced in them the metamorphoses suggested by his companion.
+
+“There!” he cried.
+
+“Capital!” exclaimed the Gascon. “Really, Porthos, you are a gifted individual!”
+
+“I have heard speak,” said Porthos, “of a certain Milo of Crotona, who performed wonderful feats, such as binding his forehead with a cord and bursting it — of killing an ox with a blow of his fist and carrying it home on his shoulders, et cetera. I used to learn all these feat by heart yonder, down at Pierrefonds, and I have done all that he did except breaking a cord by the corrugation of my temples.”
+
+“Because your strength is not in your head, Porthos,” said his friend.
+
+“No; it is in my arms and shoulders,” answered Porthos with gratified naivete.
+
+“Well, my dear friend, let us approach the window and there you can match your strength against that of an iron bar.”
+
+Porthos went to the window, took a bar in his hands, clung to it and bent it like a bow; so that the two ends came out of the sockets of stone in which for thirty years they had been fixed.
+
+“Well! friend, the cardinal, although such a genius, could never have done that.”
+
+“Shall I take out any more of them?” asked Porthos.
+
+“No; that is sufficient; a man can pass through that.”
+
+Porthos tried, and passed the upper portion of his body through.
+
+“Yes,” he said.
+
+“Now pass your arm through this opening.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“You will know presently — pass it.”
+
+Porthos obeyed with military promptness and passed his arm through the opening.
+
+“Admirable!” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“The scheme goes forward, it seems.”
+
+“On wheels, dear friend.”
+
+“Good! What shall I do now?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“It is finished, then?”
+
+“No, not yet.”
+
+“I should like to understand,” said Porthos.
+
+“Listen, my dear friend; in two words you will know all. The door of the guardhouse opens, as you see.”
+
+“Yes, I see.”
+
+“They are about to send into our court, which Monsieur de Mazarin crosses on his way to the orangery, the two guards who attend him.”
+
+“There they are, coming out.”
+
+“If only they close the guardhouse door! Good! They close it.”
+
+“What, then?”
+
+“Silence! They may hear us.”
+
+“I don’t understand it at all.”
+
+“As you execute you will understand.”
+
+“And yet I should have preferred — — ”
+
+“You will have the pleasure of the surprise.”
+
+“Ah, that is true.”
+
+“Hush!”
+
+Porthos remained silent and motionless.
+
+In fact, the two soldiers advanced on the side where the window was, rubbing their hands, for it was cold, it being the month of February.
+
+At this moment the door of the guardhouse was opened and one of the soldiers was summoned away.
+
+“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “I am going to call this soldier and talk to him. Don’t lose a word of what I’m going to say to you, Porthos. Everything lies in the execution.”
+
+“Good, the execution of plots is my forte.”
+
+“I know it well. I depend on you. Look, I shall turn to the left, so that the soldier will be at your right, as soon as he mounts on the bench to talk to us.”
+
+“But supposing he doesn’t mount?”
+
+“He will; rely upon it. As soon as you see him get up, stretch out your arm and seize him by the neck. Then, raising him up as Tobit raised the fish by the gills, you must pull him into the room, taking care to squeeze him so tight that he can’t cry out.”
+
+“Oh!” said Porthos. “Suppose I happen to strangle him?”
+
+“To be sure there would only be a Swiss the less in the world; but you will not do so, I hope. Lay him down here; we’ll gag him and tie him — no matter where — somewhere. So we shall get from him one uniform and a sword.”
+
+“Marvelous!” exclaimed Porthos, looking at the Gascon with the most profound admiration.
+
+“Pooh!” replied D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos, recollecting himself, “but one uniform and one sword will not suffice for two.”
+
+“Well; but there’s his comrade.”
+
+“True,” said Porthos.
+
+“Therefore, when I cough, stretch out your arm.”
+
+“Good!”
+
+The two friends then placed themselves as they had agreed, Porthos being completely hidden in an angle of the window.
+
+“Good-evening, comrade,” said D’Artagnan in his most fascinating voice and manner.
+
+“Good-evening, sir,” answered the soldier, in a strong provincial accent.
+
+“’Tis not too warm to walk,” resumed D’Artagnan.
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“And I think a glass of wine will not be disagreeable to you?”
+
+“A glass of wine will be extremely welcome.”
+
+“The fish bites — the fish bites!” whispered the Gascon to Porthos.
+
+“I understand,” said Porthos.
+
+“A bottle, perhaps?”
+
+“A whole bottle? Yes, sir.”
+
+“A whole bottle, if you will drink my health.”
+
+“Willingly,” answered the soldier.
+
+“Come, then, and take it, friend,” said the Gascon.
+
+“With all my heart. How convenient that there’s a bench here. Egad! one would think it had been placed here on purpose.”
+
+“Get on it; that’s it, friend.”
+
+And D’Artagnan coughed.
+
+That instant the arm of Porthos fell. His hand of iron grasped, quick as lightning, firm as a pair of blacksmith’s pincers, the soldier’s throat. He raised him, almost stifling him as he drew him through the aperture, at the risk of flaying him in the passage. He then laid him down on the floor, where D’Artagnan, after giving him just time enough to draw his breath, gagged him with his long scarf; and the moment he had done so began to undress him with the promptitude and dexterity of a man who had learned his business on the field of battle. Then the soldier, gagged and bound, was placed upon the hearth, the fire of which had been previously extinguished by the two friends.
+
+“Here’s a sword and a dress,” said Porthos.
+
+“I take them,” said D’Artagnan, “for myself. If you want another uniform and sword you must play the same trick over again. Stop! I see the other soldier issue from the guardroom and come toward us.”
+
+“I think,” replied Porthos, “it would be imprudent to attempt the same manoeuvre again; it is said that no man can succeed twice in the same way, and a failure would be ruinous. No; I will go down, seize the man unawares and bring him to you ready gagged.”
+
+“That is better,” said the Gascon.
+
+“Be ready,” said Porthos, as he slipped through the opening.
+
+He did as he said. Porthos seized his opportunity, caught the next soldier by his neck, gagged him and pushed him like a mummy through the bars into the room, and entered after him. Then they undressed him as they had done the first, laid him on their bed and bound him with the straps which composed the bed — the bedstead being of oak. This operation proved as great a success as the first.
+
+“There,” said D’Artagnan, “this is capital! Now let me try on the dress of yonder chap. Porthos, I doubt if you can wear it; but should it be too tight, never mind, you can wear the breastplate and the hat with the red feathers.”
+
+It happened, however, that the second soldier was a Swiss of gigantic proportions, so, save that some few of the seams split, his uniform fitted Porthos perfectly.
+
+They then dressed themselves.
+
+“’Tis done!” they both exclaimed at once. “As to you, comrades,” they said to the men, “nothing will happen to you if you are discreet; but if you stir you are dead men.”
+
+The soldiers were complaisant; they had found the grasp of Porthos pretty powerful and that it was no joke to fight against it.
+
+“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “you wouldn’t be sorry to understand the plot, would you, Porthos?”
+
+“Well, no, not very.”
+
+“Well, then, we shall go down into the court.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“We shall take the place of those two fellows.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“We will walk back and forth.”
+
+“That’s a good idea, for it isn’t warm.”
+
+“In a moment the valet-de-chambre will call the guard, as he did yesterday and the day before.”
+
+“And we shall answer?”
+
+“No, on the contrary, we shall not answer.”
+
+“As you please; I don’t insist on answering.”
+
+“We will not answer, then; we will simply settle our hats on our heads and we will escort his eminence.”
+
+“Where shall we escort him?”
+
+“Where he is going — to visit Athos. Do you think Athos will be sorry to see us?”
+
+“Oh!” cried Porthos, “oh! I understand.”
+
+“Wait a little, Porthos, before crying out; for, on my word, you haven’t reached the end,” said the Gascon, in a jesting tone.
+
+“What is to happen?” said Porthos.
+
+“Follow me,” replied D’Artagnan. “The man who lives to see shall see.”
+
+And slipping through the aperture, he alighted in the court. Porthos followed him by the same road, but with more difficulty and less diligence. They could hear the two soldiers shivering with fear, as they lay bound in the chamber.
+
+Scarcely had the two Frenchmen touched the ground when a door opened and the voice of the valet-de-chambre called out:
+
+“Make ready!”
+
+At the same moment the guardhouse was opened and a voice called out:
+
+“La Bruyere and Du Barthois! March!”
+
+“It seems that I am named La Bruyere,” remarked D’Artagnan.
+
+“And I, Du Barthois,” added Porthos.
+
+“Where are you?” asked the valet-de-chambre, whose eyes, dazzled by the light, could not clearly distinguish our heroes in the gloom.
+
+“Here we are,” said the Gascon.
+
+“What say you to that, Monsieur du Vallon?” he added in a low tone to Porthos.
+
+“If it but lasts, most capital,” responded Porthos.
+
+These two newly enlisted soldiers marched gravely after the valet-de-chambre, who opened the door of the vestibule, then another which seemed to be that of a waiting-room, and showing them two stools:
+
+“Your orders are very simple,” he said; “don’t allow anybody, except one person, to enter here. Do you hear — not a single creature! Obey that person implicitly. On your return you cannot make a mistake. You have only to wait here till I release you.”
+
+D’Artagnan was known to this valet-de-chambre, who was no other than Bernouin, and he had during the last six or eight months introduced the Gascon a dozen times to the cardinal. The Gascon, therefore, instead of answering, growled out “Ja! Ja!” in the most German and the least Gascon accent possible.
+
+As for Porthos, on whom D’Artagnan had impressed the necessity of absolute silence and who did not even now begin to comprehend the scheme of his friend, which was to follow Mazarin in his visit to Athos, he was simply mute. All that he was allowed to say, in case of emergencies, was the proverbial Der Teufel!
+
+Bernouin shut the door and went away. When Porthos heard the key turn in the lock he began to be alarmed, lest they should only have exchanged one prison for another.
+
+“Porthos, my friend,” said D’Artagnan, “don’t distrust Providence! Let me meditate and consider.”
+
+“Meditate and consider as much as you like,” replied Porthos, who was now quite out of humor at seeing things take this turn.
+
+“We have walked eight paces,” whispered D’Artagnan, “and gone up six steps, so hereabouts is the pavilion called the pavilion of the orangery. The Comte de la Fere cannot be far off, only the doors are locked.”
+
+“That is a slight difficulty,” said Porthos, “and a good push with the shoulders — — ”
+
+“For God’s sake, Porthos my friend, reserve your feats of strength, or they will not have, when needed, the honor they deserve. Have you not heard that some one is coming here?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, that some one will open the doors.”
+
+“But, my dear fellow, if that some one recognizes us, if that some one cries out, we are lost; for you don’t propose, I imagine, that I shall kill that man of the church. That might do if we were dealing with Englishmen or Germans.”
+
+“Oh, may God keep me from it, and you, too!” said D’Artagnan. “The young king would, perhaps, show us some gratitude; but the queen would never forgive us, and it is she whom we have to consider. And then, besides, the useless blood! never! no, never! I have my plan; let me carry it out and we shall laugh.”
+
+“So much the better,” said Porthos; “I feel some need of it.”
+
+“Hush!” said D’Artagnan; “the some one is coming.”
+
+The sound of a light step was heard in the vestibule. The hinges of the door creaked and a man appeared in the dress of a cavalier, wrapped in a brown cloak, with a lantern in one hand and a large beaver hat pulled down over his eyes.
+
+Porthos effaced himself against the wall, but he could not render himself invisible; and the man in the cloak said to him, giving him his lantern:
+
+“Light the lamp which hangs from the ceiling.”
+
+Then addressing D’Artagnan:
+
+“You know the watchword?” he said.
+
+“Ja!” replied the Gascon, determined to confine himself to this specimen of the German tongue.
+
+“Tedesco!” answered the cavalier; “va bene.”
+
+And advancing toward the door opposite to that by which he came in, he opened it and disappeared behind it, shutting it as he went.
+
+“Now,” asked Porthos, “what are we to do?”
+
+“Now we shall make use of your shoulder, friend Porthos, if this door proves to be locked. Everything in its proper time, and all comes right to those who know how to wait patiently. But first barricade the first door well; then we will follow yonder cavalier.”
+
+The two friends set to work and crowded the space before the door with all the furniture in the room, as not only to make the passage impassable, but so to block the door that by no means could it open inward.
+
+“There!” said D’Artagnan, “we can’t be overtaken. Come! forward!”
+
+Chapter LXXXV. The Oubliettes of Cardinal Mazarin.
+
+At first, on arriving at the door through which Mazarin had passed, D’Artagnan tried in vain to open it, but on the powerful shoulder of Porthos being applied to one of the panels, which gave way, D’Artagnan introduced the point of his sword between the bolt and the staple of the lock. The bolt gave way and the door opened.
+
+“As I told you, everything can be attained, Porthos, women and doors, by proceeding with gentleness.”
+
+“You’re a great moralist, and that’s the fact,” said Porthos.
+
+They entered; behind a glass window, by the light of the cardinal’s lantern, which had been placed on the floor in the midst of the gallery, they saw the orange and pomegranate trees of the Castle of Rueil, in long lines, forming one great alley and two smaller side alleys.
+
+“No cardinal!” said D’Artagnan, “but only his lantern; where the devil, then, is he?”
+
+Exploring, however, one of the side wings of the gallery, after making a sign to Porthos to explore the other, he saw, all at once, at his left, a tub containing an orange tree, which had been pushed out of its place and in its place an open aperture.
+
+Ten men would have found difficulty in moving that tub, but by some mechanical contrivance it had turned with the flagstone on which it rested.
+
+D’Artagnan, as we have said, perceived a hole in that place and in this hole the steps of a winding staircase.
+
+He called Porthos to look at it.
+
+“Were our object money only,” he said, “we should be rich directly.”
+
+“How’s that?”
+
+“Don’t you understand, Porthos? At the bottom of that staircase lies, probably, the cardinal’s treasury of which folk tell such wonders, and we should only have to descend, empty a chest, shut the cardinal up in it, double lock it, go away, carrying off as much gold as we could, put back this orange-tree over the place, and no one in the world would ever ask us where our fortune came from — not even the cardinal.”
+
+“It would be a happy hit for clowns to make, but as it seems to be unworthy of two gentlemen — — ” said Porthos.
+
+“So I think; and therefore I said, ‘Were our object money only;’ but we want something else,” replied the Gascon.
+
+At the same moment, whilst D’Artagnan was leaning over the aperture to listen, a metallic sound, as if some one was moving a bag of gold, struck on his ear; he started; instantly afterward a door opened and a light played upon the staircase.
+
+Mazarin had left his lamp in the gallery to make people believe that he was walking about, but he had with him a waxlight, to help him to explore his mysterious strong box.
+
+“Faith,” he said, in Italian, as he was reascending the steps and looking at a bag of reals, “faith, there’s enough to pay five councillors of parliament, and two generals in Paris. I am a great captain — that I am! but I make war in my own way.”
+
+The two friends were crouching down, meantime, behind a tub in the side alley.
+
+Mazarin came within three steps of D’Artagnan and pushed a spring in the wall; the slab turned and the orange tree resumed its place.
+
+Then the cardinal put out the waxlight, slipped it into his pocket, and taking up the lantern: “Now,” he said, “for Monsieur de la Fere.”
+
+“Very good,” thought D’Artagnan, “’tis our road likewise; we will go together.”
+
+All three set off on their walk, Mazarin taking the middle alley and the friends the side ones.
+
+The cardinal reached a second door without perceiving he was being followed; the sand with which the alleys were covered deadened the sound of footsteps.
+
+He then turned to the left, down a corridor which had escaped the attention of the two friends, but as he opened the door he paused, as if in thought.
+
+“Ah! Diavolo!” he exclaimed, “I forgot the recommendation of De Comminges, who advised me to take a guard and place it at this door, in order not to put myself at the mercy of that four-headed combination of devils.” And with a movement of impatience he turned to retrace his steps.
+
+“Do not give yourself the trouble, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, with his right foot forward, his beaver in his hand, a smile on his face, “we have followed your eminence step by step and here we are.”
+
+“Yes — here we are,” said Porthos.
+
+And he made the same friendly salute as D’Artagnan.
+
+Mazarin gazed at each of them with an affrighted stare, recognized them, and let drop his lantern, uttering a cry of terror.
+
+D’Artagnan picked it up; by good luck it had not been extinguished.
+
+“Oh, what imprudence, my lord,” said D’Artagnan; “’tis not good to be about just here without a light. Your eminence might knock against something, or fall into a hole.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” muttered Mazarin, unable to recover from his astonishment.
+
+“Yes, my lord, it is I. I have the honor to present to you Monsieur du Vallon, that excellent friend of mine, in whom your eminence had the kindness to interest yourself formerly.”
+
+And D’Artagnan held the lamp before the merry face of Porthos, who now began to comprehend the affair and be very proud of the whole undertaking.
+
+“You were going to visit Monsieur de la Fere?” said D’Artagnan. “Don’t let us disarrange your eminence. Be so good as to show us the way and we will follow you.”
+
+Mazarin was by degrees recovering his senses.
+
+“Have you been long in the orangery?” he asked in a trembling voice, remembering the visits he had been paying to his treasury.
+
+Porthos opened his mouth to reply; D’Artagnan made him a sign, and his mouth, remaining silent, gradually closed.
+
+“This moment come, my lord,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+Mazarin breathed again. His fears were now no longer for his hoard, but for himself. A sort of smile played on his lips.
+
+“Come,” he said, “you have me in a snare, gentlemen. I confess myself conquered. You wish to ask for liberty, and — I give it you.”
+
+“Oh, my lord!” answered D’Artagnan, “you are too good; as to our liberty, we have that; we want to ask something else of you.”
+
+“You have your liberty?” repeated Mazarin, in terror.
+
+“Certainly; and on the other hand, my lord, you have lost it, and now, in accordance with the law of war, sir, you must buy it back again.”
+
+Mazarin felt a shiver run through him — a chill even to his heart’s core. His piercing look was fixed in vain on the satirical face of the Gascon and the unchanging countenance of Porthos. Both were in shadow and the Sybil of Cuma herself could not have read them.
+
+“To purchase back my liberty?” said the cardinal.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“And how much will that cost me, Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Zounds, my lord, I don’t know yet. We must ask the Comte de la Fere the question. Will your eminence deign to open the door which leads to the count’s room, and in ten minutes all will be settled.”
+
+Mazarin started.
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “your eminence sees that we wish to act with all formality and due respect; but I must warn you that we have no time to lose; open the door then, my lord, and be so good as to remember, once for all, that on the slightest attempt to escape or the faintest cry for help, our position being very critical indeed, you must not be angry with us if we go to extremities.”
+
+“Be assured,” answered Mazarin, “that I shall attempt nothing; I give you my word of honor.”
+
+D’Artagnan made a sign to Porthos to redouble his watchfulness; then turning to Mazarin:
+
+“Now, my lord, let us enter, if you please.”
+
+Chapter LXXXVI. Conferences.
+
+Mazarin turned the lock of a double door, on the threshold of which they found Athos ready to receive his illustrious guests according to the notice Comminges had given him.
+
+On perceiving Mazarin he bowed.
+
+“Your eminence,” he said, “might have dispensed with your attendants; the honor bestowed on me is too great for me to be unmindful of it.”
+
+“And so, my dear count,” said D’Artagnan, “his eminence didn’t actually insist on our attending him; it is Du Vallon and I who have insisted, and even in a manner somewhat impolite, perhaps, so great was our longing to see you.”
+
+At that voice, that mocking tone, and that familiar gesture, accenting voice and tone, Athos made a bound of surprise.
+
+“D’Artagnan! Porthos!” he exclaimed.
+
+“My very self, dear friend.”
+
+“Me, also!” repeated Porthos.
+
+“What means this?” asked the count.
+
+“It means,” replied Mazarin, trying to smile and biting his lips in the attempt, “that our parts are changed, and that instead of these gentlemen being my prisoners I am theirs; but, gentlemen, I warn you, unless you kill me, your victory will be of very short duration; people will come to the rescue.”
+
+“Ah! my lord!” cried the Gascon, “don’t threaten! ’tis a bad example. We are so good and gentle to your eminence. Come, let us put aside all rancor and talk pleasantly.”
+
+“There’s nothing I wish more,” replied Mazarin. “But don’t think yourselves in a better position than you are. In ensnaring me you have fallen into the trap yourselves. How are you to get away from here? remember the soldiers and sentinels who guard these doors. Now, I am going to show you how sincere I am.”
+
+“Good,” thought D’Artagnan; “we must look about us; he’s going to play us a trick.”
+
+“I offered you your liberty,” continued the minister; “will you take it? Before an hour has passed you will be discovered, arrested, obliged to kill me, which would be a crime unworthy of loyal gentlemen like you.”
+
+“He is right,” thought Athos.
+
+And, like every other reflection passing in a mind that entertained none but noble thoughts, this feeling was expressed in his eyes.
+
+“And therefore,” said D’Artagnan, to clip the hope which Athos’s tacit adhesion had imparted to Mazarin, “we shall not proceed to that violence save in the last extremity.”
+
+“If on the contrary,” resumed Mazarin, “you accept your liberty — — ”
+
+“Why you, my lord, might take it away from us in less than five minutes afterward; and from my knowledge of you I believe you will so take it away from us.”
+
+“No — on the faith of a cardinal. You do not believe me?”
+
+“My lord, I never believe cardinals who are not priests.”
+
+“Well, on the faith of a minister.”
+
+“You are no longer a minister, my lord; you are a prisoner.”
+
+“Then, on the honor of a Mazarin, as I am and ever shall be, I hope,” said the cardinal.
+
+“Hem,” replied D’Artagnan. “I have heard speak of a Mazarin who had not much religion when his oaths were in question. I fear he may have been an ancestor of your eminence.”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan, you are a great wit and I am really sorry to be on bad terms with you.”
+
+“My lord, let us come to terms; I ask nothing better.”
+
+“Very well,” said Mazarin, “if I place you in security, in a manner evident, palpable — — ”
+
+“Ah! that is another thing,” said Porthos.
+
+“Let us see,” said Athos.
+
+“Let us see,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“In the first place, do you accept?” asked the cardinal.
+
+“Unfold your plan, my lord, and we will see.”
+
+“Take notice that you are shut up — captured.”
+
+“You well know, my lord, that there always remains to us a last resource.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“That of dying together.”
+
+Mazarin shuddered.
+
+“Listen,” he said; “at the end of yonder corridor is a door, of which I have the key, it leads into the park. Go, and take this key with you; you are active, vigorous, and you have arms. At a hundred steps, on turning to the left, you will find the wall of the park; get over it, and in three leaps you will be on the road and free.”
+
+“Ah! by Jove, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, “you have well said, but these are only words. Where is the key you speak of?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+“Ah, my lord! You will conduct us yourself, then, to that door?”
+
+“Very willingly, if it be necessary to reassure you,” answered the minister, and Mazarin, who was delighted to get off so cheaply, led the way, in high spirits, to the corridor and opened the door.
+
+It led into the park, as the three fugitives perceived by the night breeze which rushed into the corridor and blew the wind into their faces.
+
+“The devil!” exclaimed the Gascon, “’tis a dreadful night, my lord. We don’t know the locality, and shall never find the wall. Since your eminence has come so far, come a few steps further; conduct us, my lord, to the wall.”
+
+“Be it so,” replied the cardinal; and walking in a straight line he went to the wall, at the foot of which they all four arrived at the same instant.
+
+“Are you satisfied, gentlemen?” asked Mazarin.
+
+“I think so, indeed; we should be hard to please if we were not. Deuce take it! three poor gentlemen escorted by a prince of the church! Ah! apropos, my lord! you remarked that we were all active, vigorous and armed.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are mistaken. Monsieur du Vallon and I are the only two who are armed. The count is not; and should we meet with one of your patrol we must defend ourselves.”
+
+“’Tis true.”
+
+“Where can we find another sword?” asked Porthos.
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “will lend his, which is of no use to him, to the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“Willingly,” said the cardinal; “I will even ask the count to keep it for my sake.”
+
+“I promise you, my lord, never to part with it,” replied Athos.
+
+“Well, well,” cried D’Artagnan, “this reconciliation is truly touching; have you not tears in your eyes, Porthos?”
+
+“Yes,” said Porthos; “but I do not know if it is feeling or the wind that makes me weep; I think it is the wind.”
+
+“Now climb up, Athos, quickly,” said D’Artagnan. Athos, assisted by Porthos, who lifted him up like a feather, arrived at the top.
+
+“Now, jump down, Athos.”
+
+Athos jumped and disappeared on the other side of the wall.
+
+“Are you on the ground?” asked D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Without accident?”
+
+“Perfectly safe and sound.”
+
+“Porthos, whilst I get up, watch the cardinal. No, I don’t want your help, watch the cardinal.”
+
+“I am watching,” said Porthos. “Well?”
+
+“You are right; it is more difficult than I thought. Lend me your back — but don’t let the cardinal go.”
+
+Porthos lent him his back and D’Artagnan was soon on the summit of the wall, where he seated himself.
+
+Mazarin pretended to laugh.
+
+“Are you there?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Yes, my friend; and now — — ”
+
+“Now, what?” asked Porthos.
+
+“Now give me the cardinal up here; if he makes any noise stifle him.”
+
+Mazarin wished to call out, but Porthos held him tight and passed him to D’Artagnan, who seized him by the neck and made him sit down by him; then in a menacing tone, he said:
+
+“Sir! jump directly down, close to Monsieur de la Fere, or, on the honor of a gentleman, I’ll kill you!”
+
+“Monsieur, monsieur,” cried Mazarin, “you are breaking your word to me!”
+
+“I — did I promise you anything, my lord?”
+
+Mazarin groaned.
+
+“You are free,” he said, “through me; your liberty was my ransom.”
+
+“Agreed; but the ransom of that immense treasure buried under the gallery, to which one descends on pushing a spring hidden in the wall, which causes a tub to turn, revealing a staircase — must not one speak of that a little, my lord?”
+
+“Diavolo!” cried Mazarin, almost choked, and clasping his hands; “I am a lost and ruined man!”
+
+But without listening to his protestations of alarm, D’Artagnan slipped him gently down into the arms of Athos, who stood immovable at the bottom of the wall.
+
+Porthos next made an effort which shook the solid wall, and by the aid of his friend’s hand gained the summit.
+
+“I didn’t understand it all,” he said, “but I understand now; how droll it is!”
+
+“You think so? so much the better; but that it may prove laughter-worthy even to the end, let us not lose time.” And he jumped off the wall.
+
+Porthos did the same.
+
+“Attend to monsieur le cardinal, gentlemen,” said D’Artagnan; “for myself, I will reconnoitre.”
+
+The Gascon then drew his sword and marched as avant guard.
+
+“My lord,” he said, “which way do we go? Think well of your reply, for should your eminence be mistaken, there might ensue most grave results for all of us.”
+
+“Along the wall, sir,” said Mazarin, “there will be no danger of losing yourselves.”
+
+The three friends hastened on, but in a short time were obliged to slacken the pace. The cardinal could not keep up with them, though with every wish to do so.
+
+Suddenly D’Artagnan touched something warm, which moved.
+
+“Stop! a horse!” he cried; “I have found a horse!”
+
+“And I, likewise,” said Athos.
+
+“I, too,” said Porthos, who, faithful to the instructions, still held the cardinal’s arm.
+
+“There’s luck, my lord! just as you were complaining of being tired and obliged to walk.”
+
+But as he spoke the barrel of a pistol was presented at his breast and these words were pronounced:
+
+“Touch it not!”
+
+“Grimaud!” he cried; “Grimaud! what art thou about? Why, thou art posted here by Heaven!”
+
+“No, sir,” said the honest servant, “it was Monsieur Aramis who posted me here to take care of the horses.”
+
+“Is Aramis here?”
+
+“Yes, sir; he has been here since yesterday.”
+
+“What are you doing?”
+
+“On the watch — — ”
+
+“What! Aramis here?” cried Athos.
+
+“At the lesser gate of the castle; he’s posted there.”
+
+“Are you a large party?”
+
+“Sixty.”
+
+“Let him know.”
+
+“This moment, sir.”
+
+And believing that no one could execute the commission better than himself, Grimaud set off at full speed; whilst, enchanted at being all together again, the friends awaited his return.
+
+There was no one in the whole group in a bad humor except Cardinal Mazarin.
+
+Chapter LXXXVII. Thinking that Porthos will be at last a Baron, and D’Artagnan a Captain.
+
+At the expiration of ten minutes Aramis arrived, accompanied by Grimaud and eight or ten followers. He was excessively delighted and threw himself into his friends’ arms.
+
+“You are free, my brothers! free without my aid! and I shall have succeeded in doing nothing for you in spite of all my efforts.”
+
+“Do not be unhappy, dear friend, on that account; if you have done nothing as yet, you will do something soon,” replied Athos.
+
+“I had well concerted my plans,” pursued Aramis; “the coadjutor gave me sixty men; twenty guard the walls of the park, twenty the road from Rueil to Saint Germain, twenty are dispersed in the woods. Thus I was able, thanks to the strategic disposition of my forces, to intercept two couriers from Mazarin to the queen.”
+
+Mazarin listened intently.
+
+“But,” said D’Artagnan, “I trust that you honorably sent them back to monsieur le cardinal!”
+
+“Ah, yes!” said Aramis, “toward him I should be very likely to practice such delicacy of sentiment! In one of the despatches the cardinal declares to the queen that the treasury is empty and that her majesty has no more money. In the other he announces that he is about to transport his prisoners to Melun, since Rueil seemed to him not sufficiently secure. You can understand, dear friend, with what hope I was inspired by that last letter. I placed myself in ambuscade with my sixty men; I encircled the castle; the riding horses I entrusted to Grimaud and I awaited your coming out, which I did not expect till to-morrow, and I didn’t hope to free you without a skirmish. You are free to-night, without fighting; so much the better! How did you manage to escape that scoundrel Mazarin? You must have much reason to complain of him.”
+
+“Not very much,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Really!”
+
+“I might even say that we have some reason to praise him.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“Yes, really; it is owing to him that we are free.”
+
+“Owing to him?”
+
+“Yes, he had us conducted into the orangery by Monsieur Bernouin, his valet-de-chambre, and from there we followed him to visit the Comte de la Fere. Then he offered us our liberty and we accepted it. He even went so far as to show us the way out; he led us to the park wall, which we climbed over without accident, and then we fell in with Grimaud.”
+
+“Well!” exclaimed Aramis, “this will reconcile me to him; but I wish he were here that I might tell him that I did not believe him capable of so noble an act.”
+
+“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, no longer able to contain himself, “allow me to introduce to you the Chevalier d’Herblay, who wishes — as you may have heard — to offer his congratulations to your eminence.”
+
+And he retired, discovering Mazarin, who was in great confusion, to the astonished gaze of Aramis.
+
+“Ho! ho!” exclaimed the latter, “the cardinal! a glorious prize! Halloo! halloo! friends! to horse! to horse!”
+
+Several horsemen ran quickly to him.
+
+“Zounds!” cried Aramis, “I may have done some good; so, my lord, deign to receive my most respectful homage! I will lay a wager that ’twas that Saint Christopher, Porthos, who performed this feat! Apropos! I forgot — — ” and he gave some orders in a low voice to one of the horsemen.
+
+“I think it will be wise to set off,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes; but I am expecting some one, a friend of Athos.”
+
+“A friend!” exclaimed the count.
+
+“And here he comes, by Jupiter! galloping through the bushes.”
+
+“The count! the count!” cried a young voice that made Athos start.
+
+“Raoul! Raoul!” he ejaculated.
+
+For one moment the young man forgot his habitual respect — he threw himself on his father’s neck.
+
+“Look, my lord cardinal,” said Aramis, “would it not have been a pity to have separated men who love each other as we love? Gentlemen,” he continued, addressing the cavaliers, who became more and more numerous every instant; “gentlemen, encircle his eminence, that you may show him the greater honor. He will, indeed give us the favor of his company; you will, I hope, be grateful for it; Porthos, do not lose sight of his eminence.”
+
+Aramis then joined Athos and D’Artagnan, who were consulting together.
+
+“Come,” said D’Artagnan, after a conference of five minutes’ duration, “let us begin our journey.”
+
+“Where are we to go?” asked Porthos.
+
+“To your house, dear Porthos, at Pierrefonds; your fine chateau is worthy of affording its princely hospitality to his eminence; it is, likewise, well situated — neither too near Paris, nor too far from it; we can establish a communication between it and the capital with great facility. Come, my lord, you shall be treated like a prince, as you are.”
+
+“A fallen prince!” exclaimed Mazarin, piteously.
+
+“The chances of war,” said Athos, “are many, but be assured we shall take no improper advantage of them.”
+
+“No, but we shall make use of them,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+The rest of the night was employed by these cavaliers in traveling with the wonderful rapidity of former days. Mazarin, still sombre and pensive, permitted himself to be dragged along in this way; it looked a race of phantoms. At dawn twelve leagues had been passed without drawing rein; half the escort were exhausted and several horses fell down.
+
+“Horses, nowadays, are not what they were formerly,” observed Porthos; “everything degenerates.”
+
+“I have sent Grimaud to Dammartin,” said Aramis. “He is to bring us five fresh horses — one for his eminence, four for us. We, at least, must keep close to monseigneur; the rest of the start will rejoin us later. Once beyond Saint Denis we shall have nothing to fear.”
+
+Grimaud, in fact, brought back five horses. The nobleman to whom he applied, being a friend of Porthos, was very ready, not to sell them, as was proposed, but to lend them. Ten minutes later the escort stopped at Ermenonville, but the four friends went on with well sustained ardor, guarding Mazarin carefully. At noon they rode into the avenue of Pierrefonds.
+
+“Ah!” said Mousqueton, who had ridden by the side of D’Artagnan without speaking a word on the journey, “you may think what you will, sir, but I can breathe now for the first time since my departure from Pierrefonds;” and he put his horse to a gallop to announce to the other servants the arrival of Monsieur du Vallon and his friends.
+
+“We are four of us,” said D’Artagnan; “we must relieve each other in mounting guard over my lord and each of us must watch three hours at a time. Athos is going to examine the castle, which it will be necessary to render impregnable in case of siege; Porthos will see to the provisions and Aramis to the troops of the garrison. That is to say, Athos will be chief engineer, Porthos purveyor-in-general, and Aramis governor of the fortress.”
+
+Meanwhile, they gave up to Mazarin the handsomest room in the chateau.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he said, when he was in his room, “you do not expect, I presume, to keep me here a long time incognito?”
+
+“No, my lord,” replied the Gascon; “on the contrary, we think of announcing very soon that we have you here.”
+
+“Then you will be besieged.”
+
+“We expect it.”
+
+“And what shall you do?”
+
+“Defend ourselves. Were the late Cardinal Richelieu alive he would tell you a certain story of the Bastion Saint Gervais, which we four, with our four lackeys and twelve dead men, held out against a whole army.”
+
+“Such feats, sir, are done once — and never repeated.”
+
+“However, nowadays there’s no need of so much heroism. To-morrow the army of Paris will be summoned, the day after it will be here! The field of battle, instead, therefore, of being at Saint Denis or at Charenton, will be near Compiegne or Villars-Cotterets.”
+
+“The prince will vanquish you, as he has always done.”
+
+“’Tis possible; my lord; but before an engagement ensues we shall move your eminence to another castle belonging to our friend Du Vallon, who has three. We will not expose your eminence to the chances of war.”
+
+“Come,” answered Mazarin, “I see it will be necessary for me to capitulate.”
+
+“Before a siege?”
+
+“Yes; the conditions will be better than afterward.”
+
+“Ah, my lord! as to conditions, you would soon see how moderate and reasonable we are!”
+
+“Come, now, what are your conditions?”
+
+“Rest yourself first, my lord, and we — we will reflect.”
+
+“I do not need rest, gentlemen; I need to know whether I am among enemies or friends.”
+
+“Friends, my lord! friends!”
+
+“Well, then, tell me at once what you want, that I may see if any arrangement be possible. Speak, Comte de la Fere!”
+
+“My lord,” replied Athos, “for myself I have nothing to demand. For France, were I to specify my wishes, I should have too much. I beg you to excuse me and propose to the chevalier.”
+
+And Athos, bowing, retired and remained leaning against the mantelpiece, a spectator of the scene.
+
+“Speak, then, chevalier!” said the cardinal. “What do you want? Nothing ambiguous, if you please. Be clear, short and precise.”
+
+“As for me,” replied Aramis, “I have in my pocket the very programme of the conditions which the deputation — of which I formed one — went yesterday to Saint Germain to impose on you. Let us consider first the ancient rights. The demands in that programme must be granted.”
+
+“We were almost agreed on those,” replied Mazarin; “let us pass on to private and personal stipulations.”
+
+“You suppose, then, that there are some?” said Aramis, smiling.
+
+“I do not suppose that you will all be quite so disinterested as Monsieur de la Fere,” replied the cardinal, bowing to Athos.
+
+“My lord, you are right, and I am glad to see that you do justice to the count at last. The count has a mind above vulgar desires and earthly passions. He is a proud soul — he is a man by himself! You are right — he is worth us all, and we avow it to you!”
+
+“Aramis,” said Athos, “are you jesting?”
+
+“No, no, dear friend; I state only what we all know. You are right; it is not you alone this matter concerns, but my lord and his unworthy servant, myself.”
+
+“Well, then, what do you require besides the general conditions before recited?”
+
+“I require, my lord, that Normandy should be given to Madame de Longueville, with five hundred thousand francs and full absolution. I require that his majesty should deign to be godfather to the child she has just borne; and that my lord, after having been present at the christening, should go to proffer his homage to our Holy Father the Pope.”
+
+“That is, you wish me to lay aside my ministerial functions, to quit France and be an exile.”
+
+“I wish his eminence to become pope on the first opportunity, allowing me then the right of demanding full indulgences for myself and my friends.”
+
+Mazarin made a grimace which was quite indescribable, and then turned to D’Artagnan.
+
+“And you, sir?” he said.
+
+“I, my lord,” answered the Gascon, “I differ from Monsieur d’Herblay entirely as to the last point, though I agree with him on the first. Far from wishing my lord to quit Paris, I hope he will stay there and continue to be prime minister, as he is a great statesman. I shall try also to help him to down the Fronde, but on one condition — that he sometimes remembers the king’s faithful servants and gives the first vacant company of musketeers to a man that I could name. And you, Monsieur du Vallon — — ”
+
+“Yes, you, sir! Speak, if you please,” said Mazarin.
+
+“As for me,” answered Porthos, “I wish my lord cardinal, in order to do honor to my house, which gives him an asylum, would in remembrance of this adventure erect my estate into a barony, with a promise to confer that order on one of my particular friends, whenever his majesty next creates peers.”
+
+“You know, sir, that before receiving the order one must submit proofs.”
+
+“My friends will submit them. Besides, should it be necessary, monseigneur will show him how that formality may be avoided.”
+
+Mazarin bit his lips; the blow was direct and he replied rather dryly:
+
+“All this appears to me to be ill conceived, disjointed, gentlemen; for if I satisfy some I shall displease others. If I stay in Paris I cannot go to Rome; if I became pope I could not continue to be prime minister; and it is only by continuing prime minister that I can make Monsieur d’Artagnan a captain and Monsieur du Vallon a baron.”
+
+“True,” said Aramis, “so, as I am in a minority, I withdraw my proposition, so far as it relates to the voyage to Rome and monseigneur’s resignation.”
+
+“I am to remain minister, then?” said Mazarin.
+
+“You remain minister; that is understood,” said D’Artagnan; “France needs you.”
+
+“And I desist from my pretensions,” said Aramis. “His eminence will continue to be prime minister and her majesty’s favorite, if he will grant to me and my friends what we demand for France and for ourselves.”
+
+“Occupy yourselves with your own affairs, gentlemen, and let France settle matters as she will with me,” resumed Mazarin.
+
+“Ho! ho!” replied Aramis. “The Frondeurs will have a treaty and your eminence must sign it before us, promising at the same time to obtain the queen’s consent to it.”
+
+“I can answer only for myself,” said Mazarin. “I cannot answer for the queen. Suppose her majesty refuses?”
+
+“Oh!” said D’Artagnan, “monseigneur knows very well that her majesty refuses him nothing.”
+
+“Here, monseigneur,” said Aramis, “is the treaty proposed by the deputation of Frondeurs. Will your eminence please read and examine?”
+
+“I am acquainted with it.”
+
+“Sign it, then.”
+
+“Reflect, gentlemen, that a signature given under circumstances like the present might be regarded as extorted by violence.”
+
+“Monseigneur will be at hand to testify that it was freely given.”
+
+“Suppose I refuse?”
+
+“Then,” said D’Artagnan, “your eminence must expect the consequences of a refusal.”
+
+“Would you dare to touch a cardinal?”
+
+“You have dared, my lord, to imprison her majesty’s musketeers.”
+
+“The queen will revenge me, gentlemen.”
+
+“I do not think so, although inclination might lead her to do so, but we shall take your eminence to Paris, and the Parisians will defend us.”
+
+“How uneasy they must be at this moment at Rueil and Saint Germain,” said Aramis. “How they must be asking, ‘Where is the cardinal?’ ‘What has become of the minister?’ ‘Where has the favorite gone?’ How they must be looking for monseigneur in all corners! What comments must be made; and if the Fronde knows that monseigneur has disappeared, how the Fronde must triumph!”
+
+“It is frightful,” murmured Mazarin.
+
+“Sign the treaty, then, monseigneur,” said Aramis.
+
+“Suppose the queen should refuse to ratify it?”
+
+“Ah! nonsense!” cried D’Artagnan, “I can manage so that her majesty will receive me well; I know an excellent method.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“I shall take her majesty the letter in which you tell her that the finances are exhausted.”
+
+“And then?” asked Mazarin, turning pale.
+
+“When I see her majesty embarrassed, I shall conduct her to Rueil, make her enter the orangery and show her a certain spring which turns a box.”
+
+“Enough, sir,” muttered the cardinal, “you have said enough; where is the treaty?”
+
+“Here it is,” replied Aramis. “Sign, my lord,” and he gave him a pen.
+
+Mazarin arose, walked some moments, thoughtful, but not dejected.
+
+“And when I have signed,” he said, “what is to be my guarantee?”
+
+“My word of honor, sir,” said Athos.
+
+Mazarin started, turned toward the Comte de la Fere, and looking for an instant at that grand and honest countenance, took the pen.
+
+“It is sufficient, count,” he said, and signed the treaty.
+
+“And now, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” he said, “prepare to set off for Saint Germain and take a letter from me to the queen.”
+
+Chapter LXXXVIII. Shows how with Threat and Pen more is effected than by the Sword.
+
+D’Artagnan knew his part well; he was aware that opportunity has a forelock only for him who will take it and he was not a man to let it go by him without seizing it. He soon arranged a prompt and certain manner of traveling, by sending relays of horses to Chantilly, so that he might be in Paris in five or six hours. But before setting out he reflected that for a lad of intelligence and experience he was in a singular predicament, since he was proceeding toward uncertainty and leaving certainty behind him.
+
+“In fact,” he said, as he was about to mount and start on his dangerous mission, “Athos, for generosity, is a hero of romance; Porthos has an excellent disposition, but is easily influenced; Aramis has a hieroglyphic countenance, always illegible. What will come out of those three elements when I am no longer present to combine them? The deliverance of the cardinal, perhaps. Now, the deliverance of the cardinal would be the ruin of our hopes; and our hopes are thus far the only recompense we have for labors in comparison with which those of Hercules were pygmean.”
+
+He went to find Aramis.
+
+“You, my dear Chevalier d’Herblay,” he said, “are the Fronde incarnate. Mistrust Athos, therefore, who will not prosecute the affairs of any one, even his own. Mistrust Porthos, especially, who, to please the count whom he regards as God on earth, will assist him in contriving Mazarin’s escape, if Mazarin has the wit to weep or play the chivalric.”
+
+Aramis smiled; his smile was at once cunning and resolute.
+
+“Fear nothing,” he said; “I have my conditions to impose. My private ambition tends only to the profit of him who has justice on his side.”
+
+“Good!” thought D’Artagnan: “in this direction I am satisfied.” He pressed Aramis’s hand and went in search of Porthos.
+
+“Friend,” he said, “you have worked so hard with me toward building up our fortune, that, at the moment when we are about to reap the fruits of our labours, it would be a ridiculous piece of silliness in you to allow yourself to be controlled by Aramis, whose cunning you know — a cunning which, we may say between ourselves, is not always without egotism; or by Athos, a noble and disinterested man, but blase, who, desiring nothing further for himself, doesn’t sympathize with the desires of others. What should you say if either of these two friends proposed to you to let Mazarin go?”
+
+“Why, I should say that we had too much trouble in taking him to let him off so easily.”
+
+“Bravo, Porthos! and you would be right, my friend; for in losing him you would lose your barony, which you have in your grasp, to say nothing of the fact that, were he once out of this, Mazarin would have you hanged.”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“I am sure of it.”
+
+“Then I would kill him rather than let him go.”
+
+“And you would act rightly. There is no question, you understand, provided we secure our own interests, of securing those of the Frondeurs; who, besides, don’t understand political matters as we old soldiers do.”
+
+“Never fear, dear friend,” said Porthos. “I shall see you through the window as you mount your horse; I shall follow you with my eyes as long as you are in sight; then I shall place myself at the cardinal’s door — a door with glass windows. I shall see everything, and at the least suspicious sign I shall begin to exterminate.”
+
+“Bravo!” thought D’Artagnan; “on this side I think the cardinal will be well guarded.” He pressed the hand of the lord of Pierrefonds and went in search of Athos.
+
+“My dear Athos,” he said, “I am going away. I have only one thing to say to you. You know Anne of Austria; the captivity of Mazarin alone guarantees my life; if you let him go I am a dead man.”
+
+“I needed nothing less than that consideration, my dear D’Artagnan, to persuade myself to adopt the role of jailer. I give you my word that you will find the cardinal where you leave him.”
+
+“This reassures me more than all the royal signatures,” thought D’Artagnan. “Now that I have the word of Athos I can set out.”
+
+D’Artagnan started alone on his journey, without other escort than his sword, and with a simple passport from Mazarin to secure his admission to the queen’s presence. Six hours after he left Pierrefonds he was at Saint Germain.
+
+The disappearance of Mazarin was not as yet generally known. Anne of Austria was informed of it and concealed her uneasiness from every one. In the chamber of D’Artagnan and Porthos the two soldiers had been found bound and gagged. On recovering the use of their limbs and tongues they could, of course, tell nothing but what they knew — that they had been seized, stripped and bound. But as to what had been done by Porthos and D’Artagnan afterward they were as ignorant as all the inhabitants of the chateau.
+
+Bernouin alone knew a little more than the others. Bernouin, seeing that his master did not return and hearing the stroke of midnight, had made an examination of the orangery. The first door, barricaded with furniture, had aroused in him certain suspicions, but without communicating his suspicions to any one he had patiently worked his way into the midst of all that confusion. Then he came to the corridor, all the doors of which he found open; so, too, was the door of Athos’s chamber and that of the park. From the latter point it was easy to follow tracks on the snow. He saw that these tracks tended toward the wall; on the other side he found similar tracks, then footprints of horses and then signs of a troop of cavalry which had moved away in the direction of Enghien. He could no longer cherish any doubt that the cardinal had been carried off by the three prisoners, since the prisoners had disappeared at the same time; and he had hastened to Saint Germain to warn the queen of that disappearance.
+
+Anne had enforced the utmost secrecy and had disclosed the event to no one except the Prince de Condé, who had sent five or six hundred horsemen into the environs of Saint Germain with orders to bring in any suspicious person who was going away from Rueil, in whatsoever direction it might be.
+
+Now, since D’Artagnan did not constitute a body of horsemen, since he was alone, since he was not going away from Rueil and was going to Saint Germain, no one paid any attention to him and his journey was not obstructed in any way.
+
+On entering the courtyard of the old chateau the first person seen by our ambassador was Maitre Bernouin in person, who, standing on the threshold, awaited news of his vanished master.
+
+At the sight of D’Artagnan, who entered the courtyard on horseback, Bernouin rubbed his eyes and thought he must be mistaken. But D’Artagnan made a friendly sign to him with his head, dismounted, and throwing his bridle to a lackey who was passing, he approached the valet-de-chambre with a smile on his lips.
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” cried the latter, like a man who has the nightmare and talks in his sleep, “Monsieur d’Artagnan!”
+
+“Himself, Monsieur Bernouin.”
+
+“And why have you come here?”
+
+“To bring news of Monsieur de Mazarin — the freshest news there is.”
+
+“What has become of him, then?”
+
+“He is as well as you and I.”
+
+“Nothing bad has happened to him, then?”
+
+“Absolutely nothing. He felt the need of making a trip in the Ile de France, and begged us — the Comte de la Fere and Monsieur du Vallon — to accompany him. We were too devoted servants to refuse him a request of that sort. We set out last evening and here we are.”
+
+“Here you are.”
+
+“His eminence had something to communicate to her majesty, something secret and private — a mission that could be confided only to a sure man — and so has sent me to Saint Germain. And therefore, my dear Monsieur Bernouin, if you wish to do what will be pleasing to your master, announce to her majesty that I have come, and tell her with what purpose.”
+
+Whether he spoke seriously or in jest, since it was evident that under existing circumstances D’Artagnan was the only man who could relieve the queen’s uneasiness, Bernouin went without hesitation to announce to her this strange embassy; and as he had foreseen, the queen gave orders to introduce Monsieur d’Artagnan at once.
+
+D’Artagnan approached the sovereign with every mark of profound respect, and having fallen on his knees presented to her the cardinal’s letter
+
+It was, however, merely a letter of introduction. The queen read it, recognized the writing, and, since there were no details in it of what had occurred, asked for particulars. D’Artagnan related everything with that simple and ingenuous air which he knew how to assume on occasions. The queen, as he went on, looked at him with increasing astonishment. She could not comprehend how a man could conceive such an enterprise and still less how he could have the audacity to disclose it to her whose interest and almost duty it was to punish him.
+
+“How, sir!” she cried, as D’Artagnan finished, “you dare to tell me the details of your crime — to give me an account of your treason!”
+
+“Pardon, madame, but I think that either I have expressed myself badly or your majesty has imperfectly understood me. There is here no question of crime or treason. Monsieur de Mazarin held us in prison, Monsieur du Vallon and myself, because we could not believe that he had sent us to England to quietly look on while they cut off the head of Charles I., brother-in-law of the late king, your husband, the consort of Madame Henrietta, your sister and your guest, and because we did all that we could do to save the life of the royal martyr. We were then convinced, my friend and I, that there was some error of which we were the victims, and that an explanation was called for between his eminence and ourselves. Now, that an explanation may bear fruit, it is necessary that it should be quietly conducted, far from noise and interruption. We have therefore taken away monsieur le cardinal to my friend’s chateau and there we have come to an understanding. Well, madame, it proved to be as we had supposed; there was a mistake. Monsieur de Mazarin had thought that we had rendered service to General Cromwell, instead of King Charles, which would have been a disgrace, rebounding from us to him, and from him to your majesty — a dishonor which would have tainted the royalty of your illustrious son. We were able to prove the contrary, and that proof we are ready to give to your majesty, calling in support of it the august widow weeping in the Louvre, where your royal munificence has provided for her a home. That proof satisfied him so completely that, as a sign of satisfaction, he has sent me, as your majesty may see, to consider with you what reparation should be made to gentlemen unjustly treated and wrongfully persecuted.”
+
+“I listen to you, and I wonder at you, sir,” said the queen. “In fact, I have rarely seen such excess of impudence.”
+
+“Your majesty, on your side,” said D’Artagnan, “is as much mistaken as to our intentions as the Cardinal Mazarin has always been.”
+
+“You are in error, sir,” answered the queen. “I am so little mistaken that in ten minutes you shall be arrested, and in an hour I shall set off at the head of my army to release my minister.”
+
+“I am sure your majesty will not commit such an act of imprudence, first, because it would be useless and would produce the most disastrous results. Before he could be possibly set free the cardinal would be dead; and indeed, so convinced is he of this, that he entreated me, should I find your majesty disposed to act in this way, to do all I could to induce you to change your resolution.”
+
+“Well, then, I will content myself with arresting you!”
+
+“Madame, the possibility of my arrest has been foreseen, and should I not have returned by to-morrow, at a certain hour the next day the cardinal will be brought to Paris and delivered to the parliament.”
+
+“It is evident, sir, that your position has kept you out of relation to men and affairs; otherwise you would know that since we left Paris monsieur le cardinal has returned thither five or six times; that he has there met De Beaufort, De Bouillon, the coadjutor and D’Elbeuf and that not one of them had any desire to arrest him.”
+
+“Your pardon, madame, I know all that. And therefore my friends will conduct monsieur le cardinal neither to De Beaufort, nor to De Bouillon, nor to the coadjutor, nor to D’Elbeuf. These gentlemen wage war on private account, and in buying them up, by granting them what they wished, monsieur le cardinal has made a good bargain. He will be delivered to the parliament, members of which can, of course, be bought, but even Monsieur de Mazarin is not rich enough to buy the whole body.”
+
+“I think,” returned Anne of Austria, fixing upon him a glance, which in any woman’s face would have expressed disdain, but in a queen’s, spread terror to those she looked upon, “nay, I perceive you dare to threaten the mother of your sovereign.”
+
+“Madame,” replied D’Artagnan, “I threaten simply and solely because I am obliged to do so. Believe me, madame, as true a thing as it is that a heart beats in this bosom — a heart devoted to you — believe that you have been the idol of our lives; that we have, as you well know — good Heaven! — risked our lives twenty times for your majesty. Have you, then, madame, no compassion for your servants who for twenty years have vegetated in obscurity, without betraying in a single sigh the solemn and sacred secrets they have had the honor to share with you? Look at me, madame — at me, whom you accuse of speaking loud and threateningly. What am I? A poor officer, without fortune, without protection, without a future, unless the eye of my queen, which I have sought so long, rests on me for a moment. Look at the Comte de la Fere, a type of nobility, a flower of chivalry. He has taken part against his queen, or rather, against her minister. He has not been unreasonably exacting, it seems to me. Look at Monsieur du Vallon, that faithful soul, that arm of steel, who for twenty years has awaited the word from your lips which will make him in rank what he is in sentiment and in courage. Consider, in short, your people who love you and who yet are famished, who have no other wish than to bless you, and who, nevertheless — no, I am wrong, your subjects, madame, will never curse you; say one word to them and all will be ended — peace succeed war, joy tears, and happiness to misfortune!”
+
+Anne of Austria looked with wonderment on the warlike countenance of D’Artagnan, which betrayed a singular expression of deep feeling.
+
+“Why did you not say all this before you took action, sir?” she said.
+
+“Because, madame, it was necessary to prove to your majesty one thing of which you doubted — -that is, that we still possess amongst us some valor and are worthy of some consideration at your hands.”
+
+“And that valor would shrink from no undertaking, according to what I see.”
+
+“It has hesitated at nothing in the past; why, then, should it be less daring in the future?”
+
+“Then, in case of my refusal, this valor, should a struggle occur, will even go the length of carrying me off in the midst of my court, to deliver me into the hands of the Fronde, as you propose to deliver my minister?”
+
+“We have not thought about it yet, madame,” answered D’Artagnan, with that Gascon effrontery which had in him the appearance of naivete; “but if we four had resolved upon it we should do it most certainly.”
+
+“I ought,” muttered Anne to herself, “by this time to remember that these men are giants.”
+
+“Alas, madame!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, “this proves to me that not till to-day has your majesty had a just idea of us.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Anne; “but that idea, if at last I have it — — ”
+
+“Your majesty will do us justice. In doing us justice you will no longer treat us as men of vulgar stamp. You will see in me an ambassador worthy of the high interests he is authorized to discuss with his sovereign.”
+
+“Where is the treaty?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+Anne of Austria cast her eyes upon the treaty that D’Artagnan presented to her.
+
+“I do not see here,” she said, “anything but general conditions; the interests of the Prince de Conti or of the Ducs de Beaufort, de Bouillon and d’Elbeuf and of the coadjutor, are herein consulted; but with regard to yours?”
+
+“We do ourselves justice, madame, even in assuming the high position that we have. We do not think ourselves worthy to stand near such great names.”
+
+“But you, I presume, have decided to assert your pretensions viva voce?”
+
+“I believe you, madame, to be a great and powerful queen, and that it will be unworthy of your power and greatness if you do not recompense the arms which will bring back his eminence to Saint Germain.”
+
+“It is my intention so to do; come, let us hear you. Speak.”
+
+“He who has negotiated these matters (forgive me if I begin by speaking of myself, but I must claim that importance which has been given to me, not assumed by me) he who has arranged matters for the return of the cardinal, ought, it appears to me, in order that his reward may not be unworthy of your majesty, to be made commandant of the guards — an appointment something like that of captain of the musketeers.”
+
+“’Tis the appointment Monsieur de Tréville held, you ask of me.”
+
+“The place, madame, is vacant, and although ’tis a year since Monsieur de Tréville has left it, it has not been filled.”
+
+“But it is one of the principal military appointments in the king’s household.”
+
+“Monsieur de Tréville was but a younger son of a simple Gascon family, like me, madame; he occupied that post for twenty years.”
+
+“You have an answer ready for everything,” replied the queen, and she took from her bureau a document, which she filled up and signed.
+
+“Undoubtedly, madame,” said D’Artagnan, taking the document and bowing, “this is a noble reward; but everything in the world is unstable, and the man who happened to fall into disgrace with your majesty might lose this office to-morrow.”
+
+“What more do you want?” asked the queen, coloring, as she found that she had to deal with a mind as subtle as her own.
+
+“A hundred thousand francs for this poor captain of musketeers, to be paid whenever his services shall no longer be acceptable to your majesty.”
+
+Anne hesitated.
+
+“To think of the Parisians,” soliloquized D’Artagnan, “offering only the other day, by an edict of the parliament, six hundred thousand francs to any man soever who would deliver up the cardinal to them, dead or alive — if alive, in order to hang him; if dead, to deny him the rites of Christian burial!”
+
+“Come,” said Anne, “’tis reasonable, since you only ask from a queen the sixth of what the parliament has proposed;” and she signed an order for a hundred thousand francs.
+
+“Now, then,” she said, “what next?”
+
+“Madame, my friend Du Vallon is rich and has therefore nothing in the way of fortune to desire; but I think I remember that there was a question between him and Monsieur Mazarin as to making his estate a barony. Nay, it must have been a promise.”
+
+“A country clown,” said Anne of Austria, “people will laugh.”
+
+“Let them,” answered D’Artagnan. “But I am sure of one thing — that those who laugh at him in his presence will never laugh a second time.”
+
+“Here goes the barony.” said the queen; she signed a patent.
+
+“Now there remains the chevalier, or the Abbé d’Herblay, as your majesty pleases.”
+
+“Does he wish to be a bishop?”
+
+“No, madame, something easier to grant.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“It is that the king should deign to stand godfather to the son of Madame de Longueville.”
+
+The queen smiled.
+
+“Monsieur de Longueville is of royal blood, madame,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes,” said the queen; “but his son?”
+
+“His son, madame, must be, since the husband of the son’s mother is.”
+
+“And your friend has nothing more to ask for Madame de Longueville?”
+
+“No, madame, for I presume that the king, standing godfather to him, could do no less than present him with five hundred thousand francs, giving his father, also, the government of Normandy.”
+
+“As to the government of Normandy,” replied the queen, “I think I can promise; but with regard to the present, the cardinal is always telling me there is no more money in the royal coffers.”
+
+“We shall search for some, madame, and I think we can find a little, and if your majesty approves, we will seek for some together.”
+
+“What next?”
+
+“What next, madame?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“That is all.”
+
+“Haven’t you, then, a fourth companion?”
+
+“Yes, madame, the Comte de la Fere.”
+
+“What does he ask?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“There is in the world, then, one man who, having the power to ask, asks — nothing!”
+
+“There is the Comte de la Fere, madame. The Comte de la Fere is not a man.”
+
+“What is he, then?”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere is a demi-god.”
+
+“Has he not a son, a young man, a relative, a nephew, of whom Comminges spoke to me as being a brave boy, and who, with Monsieur de Chatillon, brought the standards from Lens?”
+
+“He has, as your majesty has said, a ward, who is called the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“If that young man should be appointed to a regiment what would his guardian say?”
+
+“Perhaps he would accept.”
+
+“Perhaps?”
+
+“Yes, if your majesty herself should beg him to accept.”
+
+“He must be indeed a strange man. Well, we will reflect and perhaps we will beg him. Are you satisfied, sir?”
+
+“There is one thing the queen has not signed — her assent to the treaty.”
+
+“Of what use to-day? I will sign it to-morrow.”
+
+“I can assure her majesty that if she does not sign to-day she will not have time to sign to-morrow. Consent, then, I beg you, madame, to write at the bottom of this schedule, which has been drawn up by Mazarin, as you see:
+
+“‘I consent to ratify the treaty proposed by the Parisians.’”
+
+Anne was caught, she could not draw back — she signed; but scarcely had she done so when pride burst forth and she began to weep.
+
+D’Artagnan started on seeing these tears. Since that period of history queens have shed tears, like other women.
+
+The Gascon shook his head, these tears from royalty melted his heart.
+
+“Madame,” he said, kneeling, “look upon the unhappy man at your feet. He begs you to believe that at a gesture of your majesty everything will be possible to him. He has faith in himself; he has faith in his friends; he wishes also to have faith in his queen. And in proof that he fears nothing, that he counts on nothing, he will restore Monsieur de Mazarin to your majesty without conditions. Behold, madame! here are the august signatures of your majesty’s hand; if you think you are right in giving them to me, you shall do so, but from this very moment you are free from any obligation to keep them.”
+
+And D’Artagnan, full of splendid pride and manly intrepidity, placed in Anne’s hands, in a bundle, the papers that he had one by one won from her with so much difficulty.
+
+There are moments — for if everything is not good, everything in this world is not bad — in which the most rigid and the coldest soul is softened by the tears of strong emotion, heart-arraigning sentiment: one of these momentary impulses actuated Anne. D’Artagnan, when he gave way to his own feelings — which were in accordance with those of the queen — had accomplished more than the most astute diplomacy could have attempted. He was therefore instantly recompensed, either for his address or for his sensibility, whichever it might be termed.
+
+“You were right, sir,” said Anne. “I misunderstood you. There are the acts signed; I deliver them to you without compulsion. Go and bring me back the cardinal as soon as possible.”
+
+“Madame,” faltered D’Artagnan, “’tis twenty years ago — I have a good memory — since I had the honor behind a piece of tapestry in the Hotel de Ville, of kissing one of those lovely hands.”
+
+“There is the other,” replied the queen; “and that the left hand should not be less liberal than the right,” she drew from her finger a diamond similar to the one formerly given to him, “take and keep this ring in remembrance of me.
+
+“Madame,” said D’Artagnan, rising, “I have only one thing more to wish, which is, that the next thing you ask from me, shall be — my life.”
+
+And with this conclusion — a way peculiar to himself — he rose and left the room.
+
+“I never rightly understood those men,” said the queen, as she watched him retiring from her presence; “and it is now too late, for in a year the king will be of age.”
+
+In twenty-four hours D’Artagnan and Porthos conducted Mazarin to the queen; and the one received his commission, the other his patent of nobility.
+
+On the same day the Treaty of Paris was signed, and it was everywhere announced that the cardinal had shut himself up for three days in order to draw it up with the greatest care.
+
+Here is what each of the parties concerned gained by that treaty:
+
+Monsieur de Conti received Damvilliers, and having made his proofs as general, he succeeded in remaining a soldier, instead of being made cardinal. Moreover, something had been said of a marriage with Mazarin’s niece. The idea was welcomed by the prince, to whom it was of little importance whom he married, so long as he married some one.
+
+The Duc de Beaufort made his entrance at court, receiving ample reparation for the wrongs he had suffered, and all the honor due to his rank. Full pardon was accorded to those who had aided in his escape. He received also the office of admiral, which had been held by his father, the Duc de Vendome and an indemnity for his houses and castles, demolished by the Parliament of Bretagne.
+
+The Duc de Bouillon received domains of a value equal to that of his principality of Sedan, and the title of prince, granted to him and to those belonging to his house.
+
+The Duc de Longueville gained the government of Pont-de-l’Arche, five hundred thousand francs for his wife and the honor of seeing her son held at the baptismal font by the young king and Henrietta of England.
+
+Aramis stipulated that Bazin should officiate at that ceremony and that Planchet should furnish the christening sugar plums.
+
+The Duc d’Elbeuf obtained payment of certain sums due to his wife, one hundred thousand francs for his eldest son and twenty-five thousand for each of the three others.
+
+The coadjutor alone obtained nothing. They promised, indeed, to negotiate with the pope for a cardinal’s hat for him; but he knew how little reliance should be placed on such promises, made by the queen and Mazarin. Quite contrary to the lot of Monsieur de Conti, unable to be cardinal, he was obliged to remain a soldier.
+
+And therefore, when all Paris was rejoicing in the expected return of the king, appointed for the next day, Gondy alone, in the midst of the general happiness, was dissatisfied; he sent for the two men whom he was wont to summon when in especially bad humor. Those two men were the Count de Rochefort and the mendicant of Saint Eustache. They came with their usual promptness, and the coadjutor spent with them a part of the night.
+
+Chapter LXXXIX. Difficult for Kings to return to the Capitals of their Kingdoms.
+
+Whilst D’Artagnan and Porthos were engaged in conducting the cardinal to Saint Germain, Athos and Aramis returned to Paris.
+
+Each had his own particular visit to make.
+
+Aramis rushed to the Hotel de Ville, where Madame de Longueville was sojourning. The duchess loudly lamented the announcement of peace. War had made her a queen; peace brought her abdication. She declared that she would never assent to the treaty and that she wished eternal war.
+
+But when Aramis had presented that peace to her in a true light — that is to say, with all its advantages; when he had pointed out to her, in exchange for the precarious and contested royalty of Paris, the viceroyalty of Font-de-l’Arche, in other words, of all Normandy; when he had rung in her ears the five hundred thousand francs promised by the cardinal; when he had dazzled her eyes with the honor bestowed on her by the king in holding her child at the baptismal font, Madame de Longueville contended no longer, except as is the custom with pretty women to contend, and defended herself only to surrender at last.
+
+Aramis made a presence of believing in the reality of her opposition and was unwilling to deprive himself in his own view of the credit of her conversion.
+
+“Madame,” he said, “you have wished to conquer the prince your brother — that is to say, the greatest captain of the age; and when women of genius wish anything they always succeed in attaining it. You have succeeded; the prince is beaten, since he can no longer fight. Now attach him to our party. Withdraw him gently from the queen, whom he does not like, from Mazarin, whom he despises. The Fronde is a comedy, of which the first act only is played. Let us wait for a dénouement — for the day when the prince, thanks to you, shall have turned against the court.”
+
+Madame de Longueville was persuaded. This Frondist duchess trusted so confidently to the power of her fine eyes, that she could not doubt their influence even over Monsieur de Condé; and the chronicles of the time aver that her confidence was justified.
+
+Athos, on quitting Aramis, went to Madame de Chevreuse. Here was another frondeuse to persuade, and she was even less open to conviction than her younger rival. There had been no stipulation in her favor. Monsieur de Chevreuse had not been appointed governor of a province, and if the queen should consent to be godmother it could be only of her grandson or granddaughter. At the first announcement of peace Madame de Chevreuse frowned, and in spite of all the logic of Athos to show her that a prolonged war would have been impracticable, contended in favor of hostilities.
+
+“My fair friend,” said Athos, “allow me to tell you that everybody is tired of war. You will get yourself exiled, as you did in the time of Louis XIII. Believe me, we have passed the time of success in intrigue, and your fine eyes are not destined to be eclipsed by regretting Paris, where there will always be two queens as long as you are there.”
+
+“Oh,” cried the duchess, “I cannot make war alone, but I can avenge myself on that ungrateful queen and most ambitious favorite-on the honor of a duchess, I will avenge myself.”
+
+“Madame,” replied Athos, “do not injure the Vicomte de Bragelonne — do not ruin his prospects. Alas! excuse my weakness! There are moments when a man grows young again in his children.”
+
+The duchess smiled, half tenderly, half ironically.
+
+“Count,” she said, “you are, I fear, gained over to the court. I suppose you have a blue ribbon in your pocket?”
+
+“Yes, madame; I have that of the Garter, which King Charles I. gave me some days before he died.”
+
+“Come, I am growing an old woman!” said the duchess, pensively.
+
+Athos took her hand and kissed it. She sighed, as she looked at him.
+
+“Count,” she said, “Bragelonne must be a charming place. You are a man of taste. You have water — woods — flowers there?”
+
+She sighed again and leaned her charming head, gracefully reclined, on her hand, still beautiful in form and color.
+
+“Madame!” exclaimed Athos, “what were you saying just now about growing old? Never have I seen you look so young, so beautiful!”
+
+The duchess shook her head.
+
+“Does Monsieur de Bragelonne remain in Paris?” she inquired.
+
+“What think you of it?” inquired Athos.
+
+“Leave him with me,” replied the duchess.
+
+“No, madame; if you have forgotten the history of Oedipus, I, at least, remember it.”
+
+“Really, sir, you are delightful, and I should like to spend a month at Bragelonne.”
+
+“Are you not afraid of making people envious of me, duchess?” replied Athos.
+
+“No, I shall go incognito, count, under the name of Marie Michon.”
+
+“You are adorable, madame.”
+
+“But do not keep Raoul with you.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because he is in love.”
+
+“He! he is quite a child!”
+
+“And ’tis a child he loves.”
+
+Athos became thoughtful.
+
+“You are right, duchess. This singular passion for a child of seven may some day make him very unhappy. There is to be war in Flanders. He shall go thither.”
+
+“And at his return you will send him to me. I will arm him against love.”
+
+“Alas, madame!” exclaimed Athos, “to-day love is like war — the breastplate is becoming useless.”
+
+Raoul entered at this moment; he came to announce that the solemn entrance of the king, queen, and her ministers was to take place on the ensuing day.
+
+The next day, in fact, at daybreak, the court made preparations to quit Saint Germain.
+
+Meanwhile, the queen every hour had been sending for D’Artagnan.
+
+“I hear,” she said, “that Paris is not quiet. I am afraid for the king’s safety; place yourself close to the coach door on the right.”
+
+“Reassure yourself, madame, I will answer for the king’s safety.”
+
+As he left the queen’s presence Bernouin summoned him to the cardinal.
+
+“Sir,” said Mazarin to him “an emeute is spoken of in Paris. I shall be on the king’s left and as I am the chief person threatened, remain at the coach door to the left.”
+
+“Your eminence may be perfectly easy,” replied D’Artagnan; “they will not touch a hair of your head.”
+
+“Deuce take it!” he thought to himself, “how can I take care of both? Ah! plague on’t, I will guard the king and Porthos shall guard the cardinal.”
+
+This arrangement pleased every one. The queen had confidence in the courage of D’Artagnan, which she knew, and the cardinal in the strength of Porthos, which he had experienced.
+
+The royal procession set out for Paris. Guitant and Comminges, at the head of the guards, marched first; then came the royal carriage, with D’Artagnan on one side, Porthos on the other; then the musketeers, for two and twenty years staunch friends of D’Artagnan. During twenty he had been lieutenant, their captain since the night before.
+
+The cortege proceeded to Notre Dame, where a Te Deum was chanted. All Paris were in the streets. The Swiss were drawn up along the road, but as the road was long, they were placed at six or eight feet distant from each other and one deep only. This force was therefore wholly insufficient, and from time to time the line was broken through by the people and was formed again with difficulty. Whenever this occurred, although it proceeded only from goodwill and a desire to see the king and queen, Anne looked at D’Artagnan anxiously.
+
+Mazarin, who had dispensed a thousand louis to make the people cry “Long live Mazarin,” and who had accordingly no confidence in acclamations bought at twenty pistoles each, kept one eye on Porthos; but that gigantic body-guard replied to the look with his great bass voice, “Be tranquil, my lord,” and Mazarin became more and more composed.
+
+At the Palais Royal, the crowd, which had flowed in from the adjacent street was still greater; like an impetuous mob, a wave of human beings came to meet the carriage and rolled tumultuously into the Rue Saint Honore.
+
+When the procession reached the palace, loud cries of “Long live their majesties!” resounded. Mazarin leaned out of the window. One or two shouts of “Long live the cardinal” saluted his shadow; but instantly hisses and yells stifled them remorselessly. Mazarin turned pale and shrank back in the coach.
+
+“Low-born fellows!” ejaculated Porthos.
+
+D’Artagnan said nothing, but twirled his mustache with a peculiar gesture which showed that his fine Gascon humor was awake.
+
+Anne of Austria bent down and whispered in the young king’s ear:
+
+“Say something gracious to Monsieur d’Artagnan, my son.”
+
+The young king leaned toward the door.
+
+“I have not said good-morning to you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” he said; “nevertheless, I have remarked you. It was you who were behind my bed-curtains that night the Parisians wished to see me asleep.”
+
+“And if the king permits me,” returned the Gascon, “I shall be near him always when there is danger to be encountered.”
+
+“Sir,” said Mazarin to Porthos, “what would you do if the crowd fell upon us?”
+
+“Kill as many as I could, my lord.”
+
+“Hem! brave as you are and strong as you are, you could not kill them all.”
+
+“’Tis true,” answered Porthos, rising on his saddle, in order that he might appraise the immense crowd, “there are a lot of them.”
+
+“I think I should like the other fellow better than this one,” said Mazarin to himself, and he threw himself back in his carriage.
+
+The queen and her minister, more especially the latter, had reason to feel anxious. The crowd, whilst preserving an appearance of respect and even of affection for the king and queen regent, began to be tumultuous. Reports were whispered about, like certain sounds which announce, as they whistle from wave to wave, the coming storm — and when they pass athwart a multitude, presage an emeute.
+
+D’Artagnan turned toward the musketeers and made a sign imperceptible to the crowd, but very easily understood by that chosen regiment, the flower of the army.
+
+The ranks closed firmly in and a kind of majestic tremor ran from man to man.
+
+At the Barriere des Sergents the procession was obliged to stop. Comminges left the head of the escort and went to the queen’s carriage. Anne questioned D’Artagnan by a look. He answered in the same language.
+
+“Proceed,” she said.
+
+Comminges returned to his post. An effort was made and the living barrier was violently broken through.
+
+Some complaints arose from the crowd and were addressed this time to the king as well as the minister.
+
+“Onward!” cried D’Artagnan, in a loud voice.
+
+“Onward!” cried Porthos.
+
+But as if the multitude had waited only for this demonstration to burst out, all the sentiments of hostility that possessed it exploded simultaneously. Cries of “Down with Mazarin!” “Death to the cardinal!” resounded on all sides.
+
+At the same time through the streets of Grenelle, Saint Honore, and Du Coq, a double stream of people broke the feeble hedge of Swiss guards and came like a whirlwind even to the very legs of Porthos’s horse and that of D’Artagnan.
+
+This new eruption was more dangerous than the others, being composed of armed men. It was plain that it was not the chance combination of those who had collected a number of the malcontents at the same spot, but a concerted organized attack.
+
+Each of these mobs was led by a chief, one of whom appeared to belong, not to the people, but to the honorable corporation of mendicants, and the other, notwithstanding his affected imitation of the people, might easily be discerned to be a gentleman. Both were evidently stimulated by the same impulse.
+
+There was a shock which was perceived even in the royal carriage. Myriads of hoarse cries, forming one vast uproar, were heard, mingled with guns firing.
+
+“Ho! Musketeers!” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+The escort divided into two files. One of them passed around to the right of the carriage, the other to the left. One went to support D’Artagnan, the other Porthos. Then came a skirmish, the more terrible because it had no definite object; the more melancholy, because those engaged in it knew not for whom they were fighting. Like all popular movements, the shock given by the rush of this mob was formidable. The musketeers, few in number, not being able, in the midst of this crowd, to make their horses wheel around, began to give way. D’Artagnan offered to lower the blinds of the royal carriage, but the young king stretched out his arm, saying:
+
+“No, sir! I wish to see everything.”
+
+“If your majesty wishes to look out — well, then, look!” replied D’Artagnan. And turning with that fury which made him so formidable, he rushed toward the chief of the insurgents, a man who, with a huge sword in his hand, was trying to hew a passage to the coach door through the musketeers.
+
+“Make room!” cried D’Artagnan. “Zounds! give way!”
+
+At these words the man with a pistol and sword raised his head, but it was too late. The blow was sped by D’Artagnan; the rapier had pierced his bosom.
+
+“Ah! confound it!” cried the Gascon, trying in vain, too late, to retract the thrust. “What the devil are you doing here, count?”
+
+“Accomplishing my destiny,” replied Rochefort, falling on one knee. “I have already got up again after three stabs from you, I shall never rise after this fourth.”
+
+“Count!” said D’Artagnan, with some degree of emotion, “I struck without knowing that it was you. I am sorry, if you die, that you should die with sentiments of hatred toward me.”
+
+Rochefort extended his hand to D’Artagnan, who took it. The count wished to speak, but a gush of blood stifled him. He stiffened in the last convulsions of death and expired.
+
+“Back, people!” cried D’Artagnan, “your leader is dead; you have no longer any business here.”
+
+Indeed, as if De Rochefort had been the very soul of the attack, the crowd who had followed and obeyed him took to flight on seeing him fall. D’Artagnan charged, with a party of musketeers, up the Rue du Coq, and the portion of the mob he assailed disappeared like smoke, dispersing near the Place Saint Germain-l’Auxerrois and taking the direction of the quays.
+
+D’Artagnan returned to help Porthos, if Porthos needed help; but Porthos, for his part, had done his work as conscientiously as D’Artagnan. The left of the carriage was as well cleared as the right, and they drew up the blind of the window which Mazarin, less heroic than the king, had taken the precaution to lower.
+
+Porthos looked very melancholy.
+
+“What a devil of a face you have, Porthos! and what a strange air for a victor!”
+
+“But you,” answered Porthos, “seem to me agitated.”
+
+“There’s a reason! Zounds! I have just killed an old friend.”
+
+“Indeed!” replied Porthos, “who?”
+
+“That poor Count de Rochefort.”
+
+“Well! exactly like me! I have just killed a man whose face is not unknown to me. Unluckily, I hit him on the head and immediately his face was covered with blood.”
+
+“And he said nothing as he died?”
+
+“Yes; he exclaimed, ‘Oh!’”
+
+“I suppose,” answered D’Artagnan, laughing, “if he only said that, it did not enlighten you much.”
+
+“Well, sir!” cried the queen.
+
+“Madame, the passage is quite clear and your majesty can continue your road.”
+
+In fact, the procession arrived, in safety at Notre Dame, at the front gate of which all the clergy, with the coadjutor at their head, awaited the king, the queen and the minister, for whose happy return they chanted a Te Deum.
+
+As the service was drawing to a close a boy entered the church in great excitement, ran to the sacristy, dressed himself quickly in the choir robes, and cleaving, thanks to that uniform, the crowd that filled the temple, approached Bazin, who, clad in his blue robe, was standing gravely in his place at the entrance to the choir.
+
+Bazin felt some one pulling his sleeve. He lowered to earth his eyes, beatifically raised to Heaven, and recognized Friquet.
+
+“Well, you rascal, what is it? How do you dare to disturb me in the exercise of my functions?” asked the beadle.
+
+“Monsieur Bazin,” said Friquet, “Monsieur Maillard — you know who he is, he gives holy water at Saint Eustache — — ”
+
+“Well, go on.”
+
+“Well, he received in the scrimmage a sword stroke on the head. That great giant who was there gave it to him.”
+
+“In that case,” said Bazin, “he must be pretty sick.”
+
+“So sick that he is dying, and he wants to confess to the coadjutor, who, they say, has power to remit great sins.”
+
+“And does he imagine that the coadjutor will put himself out for him?”
+
+“To be sure; the coadjutor has promised.”
+
+“Who told you that?”
+
+“Monsieur Maillard himself.”
+
+“You have seen him, then?”
+
+“Certainly; I was there when he fell.”
+
+“What were you doing there?”
+
+“I was shouting, ‘Down with Mazarin!’ ‘Death to the cardinal!’ ‘The Italian to the gallows!’ Isn’t that what you would have me shout?”
+
+“Be quiet, you rascal!” said Bazin, looking uneasily around.
+
+“So that he told me, that poor Monsieur Maillard, ‘Go find the coadjutor, Friquet, and if you bring him to me you shall be my heir.’ Say, then, Father Bazin — the heir of Monsieur Maillard, the giver of holy water at Saint Eustache! Hey! I shall have nothing to do but to fold my arms! All the same, I should like to do him that service — what do you say to it?”
+
+“I will tell the coadjutor,” said Bazin.
+
+In fact, he slowly and respectfully approached the prelate and spoke to him privately a few words, to which the latter responded by an affirmative sign. He then returned with the same slow step and said:
+
+“Go and tell the dying man that he must be patient. Monseigneur will be with him in an hour.”
+
+“Good!” said Friquet, “my fortune is made.”
+
+“By the way,” said Bazin, “where was he carried?”
+
+“To the tower Saint Jacques la Boucherie;” and delighted with the success of his embassy, Friquet started off at the top of his speed.
+
+When the Te Deum was over, the coadjutor, without stopping to change his priestly dress, took his way toward that old tower which he knew so well. He arrived in time. Though sinking from moment to moment, the wounded man was not yet dead. The door was opened to the coadjutor of the room in which the mendicant was suffering.
+
+A moment later Friquet went out, carrying in his hand a large leather bag; he opened it as soon as he was outside the chamber and to his great astonishment found it full of gold. The mendicant had kept his word and made Friquet his heir.
+
+“Ah! Mother Nanette!” cried Friquet, suffocating; “ah! Mother Nanette!”
+
+He could say no more; but though he hadn’t strength to speak he had enough for action. He rushed headlong to the street, and like the Greek from Marathon who fell in the square at Athens, with his laurel in his hand, Friquet reached Councillor Broussel’s threshold, and then fell exhausted, scattering on the floor the louis disgorged by his leather bag.
+
+Mother Nanette began by picking up the louis; then she picked up Friquet.
+
+In the meantime the cortege returned to the Palais Royal.
+
+“That Monsieur d’Artagnan is a very brave man, mother,” said the young king.
+
+“Yes, my son; and he rendered very important services to your father. Treat him kindly, therefore, in the future.”
+
+“Captain,” said the young king to D’Artagnan, on descending from the carriage, “the queen has charged me to invite you to dinner to-day — you and your friend the Baron du Vallon.”
+
+That was a great honor for D’Artagnan and for Porthos. Porthos was delighted; and yet during the entire repast he seemed to be preoccupied.
+
+“What was the matter with you, baron?” D’Artagnan said to him as they descended the staircase of the Palais Royal. “You seemed at dinner to be anxious about something.”
+
+“I was trying,” said Porthos, “to recall where I had seen that mendicant whom I must have killed.”
+
+“And you couldn’t remember?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, search, my friend, search; and when you have found, you will tell me, will you not?”
+
+“Pardieu!” said Porthos.
+
+Chapter XC. Conclusion.
+
+On going home, the two friends found a letter from Athos, who desired them to meet him at the Grand Charlemagne on the following day.
+
+The friends went to bed early, but neither of them slept. When we arrive at the summit of our wishes, success has usually the power to drive away sleep on the first night after the fulfilment of long cherished hopes.
+
+The next day at the appointed hour they went to see Athos and found him and Aramis in traveling costume.
+
+“What!” cried Porthos, “are we all going away, then? I also have made my preparations this morning.”
+
+“Oh, heavens! yes,” said Aramis. “There’s nothing to do in Paris now there’s no Fronde. The Duchess de Longueville has invited me to pass a few days in Normandy, and has deputed me, while her son is being baptized, to go and prepare her residence at Rouen; after which, if nothing new occurs, I shall go and bury myself in my convent at Noisy-le-Sec.”
+
+“And I,” said Athos, “am returning to Bragelonne. You know, dear D’Artagnan, I am nothing more than a good honest country gentleman. Raoul has no fortune other than I possess, poor child! and I must take care of it for him, since I only lend him my name.”
+
+“And Raoul — what shall you do with him?”
+
+“I leave him with you, my friend. War has broken out in Flanders. You shall take him with you there. I am afraid that remaining at Blois would be dangerous to his youthful mind. Take him and teach him to be as brave and loyal as you are yourself.”
+
+“Then,” replied D’Artagnan, “though I shall not have you, Athos, at all events I shall have that dear fair-haired head by me; and though he’s but a boy, yet, since your soul lives again in him, dear Athos, I shall always fancy that you are near me, sustaining and encouraging me.”
+
+The four friends embraced with tears in their eyes.
+
+Then they departed, without knowing whether they would ever see each other again.
+
+D’Artagnan returned to the Rue Tiquetonne with Porthos, still possessed by the wish to find out who the man was that he had killed. On arriving at the Hotel de la Chevrette they found the baron’s equipage all ready and Mousqueton on his saddle.
+
+“Come, D’Artagnan,” said Porthos, “bid adieu to your sword and go with me to Pierrefonds, to Bracieux, or to Du Vallon. We will grow old together and talk of our companions.”
+
+“No!” replied D’Artagnan, “deuce take it, the campaign is going to begin; I wish to be there, I expect to get something by it.”
+
+“What do you expect to get?”
+
+“Why, I expect to be made Marechal of France!”
+
+“Ha! ha!” cried Porthos, who was not completely taken in by D’Artagnan’s Gasconades.
+
+“Come my brother, go with me,” added D’Artagnan, “and I will see that you are made a duke!”
+
+“No,” answered Porthos, “Mouston has no desire to fight; besides, they have erected a triumphal arch for me to enter my barony, which will kill my neighbors with envy.”
+
+“To that I can say nothing,” returned D’Artagnan, who knew the vanity of the new baron. “Then, here’s to our next merry meeting!”
+
+“Adieu, dear captain,” said Porthos, “I shall always be happy to welcome you to my barony.”
+
+“Yes, yes, when the campaign is over,” replied the Gascon.
+
+“His honor’s equipage is waiting,” said Mousqueton.
+
+The two friends, after a cordial pressure of the hands, separated. D’Artagnan was standing at the door looking after Porthos with a mournful gaze, when the baron, after walking scarcely more than twenty paces, returned — stood still — struck his forehead with his finger and exclaimed:
+
+“I recollect!”
+
+“What?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“Who the beggar was that I killed.”
+
+“Ah! indeed! and who was he?”
+
+“’Twas that low fellow, Bonacieux.”
+
+And Porthos, enchanted at having relieved his mind, rejoined Mousqueton and they disappeared around an angle of the street. D’Artagnan stood for an instant, mute, pensive and motionless; then, as he went in, he saw the fair Madeleine, his hostess, standing on the threshold.
+
+“Madeleine,” said the Gascon, “give me your apartment on the first floor; now that I am a captain in the royal musketeers I must make an appearance; nevertheless, reserve my old room on the fifth story for me; one never knows what may happen.”
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb.json b/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..bf3911aaf27215af33e52c589a82eefe6966ca9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5863/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "2033/tenyears_later_1301_librivox_64kb_mp3/tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "2033", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,", "start_byte": 426271, "end_byte": 426332, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 381.4949877929688, "cut_end_time": 387.4100502929688, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it not the same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness of conduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tears when they have gained a victory? <|quote_start|>\u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the marquise. \u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,\u201d she said, \u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,\u201d she said, looking at the timepiece. \u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,\u201d she said; \u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,", "start_byte": 426353, "end_byte": 426575, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 389.84501098632813, "cut_end_time": 408.97001098632813, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it not the same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness of conduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tears when they have gained a victory? \u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,\u201d said the marquise. <|quote_start|>\u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said, \u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,\u201d she said, looking at the timepiece. \u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,\u201d she said; \u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.\u201d With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,", "start_byte": 426587, "end_byte": 426645, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 410.5750036621094, "cut_end_time": 414.3100661621094, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it not the same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness of conduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tears when they have gained a victory? \u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,\u201d said the marquise. \u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,\u201d she said, <|quote_start|>\u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said, looking at the timepiece. \u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,\u201d she said; \u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.\u201d With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "looking": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,", "start_byte": 426683, "end_byte": 426708, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 418.09500610351563, "cut_end_time": 419.46000610351564, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,\u201d said the marquise. \u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,\u201d she said, \u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,\u201d she said, looking at the timepiece. <|quote_start|>\u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,\u201d<|quote_end|> she said; \u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.\u201d With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.", "start_byte": 426720, "end_byte": 426781, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 421.11498779296875, "cut_end_time": 425.26011279296876, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,\u201d said the marquise. \u201cWho can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,\u201d she said, \u201cthis is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,\u201d she said, looking at the timepiece. \u201cIt is now seven o\u2019clock,\u201d she said; <|quote_start|>\u201che must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.\u201d<|quote_end|> With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\u201cWhat is that, madame?", "start_byte": 429411, "end_byte": 429433, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 648.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 650.0500527343751, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "A woman\u2019s eye can read the face of the man she loves, its every feeling of pride, its every expression of suffering; it might almost be said that Heaven has graciously granted to women, on account of their very weakness, more than it has accorded to other creatures. They can conceal their own feelings from a man, but from them no man can conceal his. The marquise divined in a single glace the whole weight of the unhappiness of the superintendent. She divined a night passed without sleep, a day passed in deceptions. From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else. She arose and approached him, saying, \u201cYou wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat is that, madame?\u201d<|quote_end|> said Fouquet, astonished.\n\n\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d", "start_byte": 429462, "end_byte": 429615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 653.3950268554688, "cut_end_time": 664.9400268554688, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "A woman\u2019s eye can read the face of the man she loves, its every feeling of pride, its every expression of suffering; it might almost be said that Heaven has graciously granted to women, on account of their very weakness, more than it has accorded to other creatures. They can conceal their own feelings from a man, but from them no man can conceal his. The marquise divined in a single glace the whole weight of the unhappiness of the superintendent. She divined a night passed without sleep, a day passed in deceptions. From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else. She arose and approached him, saying, \u201cYou wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that, madame?\u201d said Fouquet, astonished.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d", "start_byte": 429710, "end_byte": 429835, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 674.1950268554688, "cut_end_time": 684.4400268554688, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that, madame?\u201d said Fouquet, astonished.\n\n\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, <|quote_start|>\u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,", "start_byte": 429837, "end_byte": 429872, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 685.5049951171875, "cut_end_time": 687.5901201171876, "narration": {"text": " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy,", "cut_start_time": 667.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 673.42008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWhat is that, madame?\u201d said Fouquet, astonished.\n\n\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d", "start_byte": 429964, "end_byte": 430048, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 695.1749780273437, "cut_end_time": 701.7300405273438, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThat you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, <|quote_start|>\u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d\n\n\u201cHarsh?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said Madame de Belliere, sighing, \u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d", "start_byte": 430050, "end_byte": 430081, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 702.7049853515625, "cut_end_time": 704.6600478515625, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d\n\n\u201cHarsh?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said Madame de Belliere, sighing, \u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d", "start_byte": 430083, "end_byte": 430230, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 705.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 716.6900380859375, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh! madame,\u201d said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, \u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d\n\n\u201cHarsh?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said Madame de Belliere, sighing, \u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d", "start_byte": 430232, "end_byte": 430316, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 718.365, "cut_end_time": 724.63, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cyou are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour forgiveness is granted, then,\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHarsh?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said Madame de Belliere, sighing, \u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d", "start_byte": 430328, "end_byte": 430370, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 727.2650048828125, "cut_end_time": 730.4100048828125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201d said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. \u201cNo, no,\u201d she said, \u201csit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you detect it, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?\u201d\n\n\u201cHarsh?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes; did you not forbid me to visit you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said Madame de Belliere, sighing, \u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d\n\nFouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cI unhappy?", "start_byte": 431014, "end_byte": 431025, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 785.1750219726563, "cut_end_time": 786.6100844726562, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d\n\nFouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. <|quote_start|>\u201cI unhappy?\u201d<|quote_end|> he said, endeavoring to smile: \u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "endeavoring": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "smile": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 7}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d", "start_byte": 431058, "end_byte": 431252, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 790.3349731445313, "cut_end_time": 807.1100981445313, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d\n\nFouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. \u201cI unhappy?\u201d he said, endeavoring to smile: <|quote_start|>\u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, four millions; I am aware of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know it?\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; \u201chow can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "endeavoring": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "smile": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d", "start_byte": 431254, "end_byte": 431334, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 808.8850073242188, "cut_end_time": 815.5600698242188, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\u201cbecause your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.\u201d\n\nFouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. \u201cI unhappy?\u201d he said, endeavoring to smile: \u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, four millions; I am aware of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know it?\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; \u201chow can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d", "start_byte": 431336, "end_byte": 431458, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 816.8050073242188, "cut_end_time": 826.2900698242188, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Fouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. \u201cI unhappy?\u201d he said, endeavoring to smile: \u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, four millions; I am aware of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know it?\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; \u201chow can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\u201cYes, four millions; I am aware of it.\u201d", "start_byte": 431460, "end_byte": 431499, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 827.3250048828126, "cut_end_time": 830.3300048828125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201d he said, endeavoring to smile: \u201cindeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, four millions; I am aware of it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou know it?\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; \u201chow can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cSo you have the amount?", "start_byte": 432173, "end_byte": 432197, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 884.0849975585937, "cut_end_time": 885.2800600585938, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d<|quote_end|> inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"inquired": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "anxiety": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,", "start_byte": 432242, "end_byte": 432280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 889.3750219726563, "cut_end_time": 891.8500219726562, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d\n\n\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d<|quote_end|> replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d", "start_byte": 432311, "end_byte": 432400, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 894.3849731445313, "cut_end_time": 900.2300356445313, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, <|quote_start|>\u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d", "start_byte": 432402, "end_byte": 432459, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 901.104970703125, "cut_end_time": 904.680033203125, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d", "start_byte": 432461, "end_byte": 432508, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 906.0749975585937, "cut_end_time": 908.7801225585938, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d", "start_byte": 432510, "end_byte": 432580, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 910.04501953125, "cut_end_time": 914.8300195312501, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d", "start_byte": 432582, "end_byte": 432676, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 916.1149755859375, "cut_end_time": 923.0501005859376, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin\u2019s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you have the amount?\u201d inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.\n\n\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d", "start_byte": 432678, "end_byte": 432781, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 924.0350146484375, "cut_end_time": 930.9400771484375, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt would indeed be strange, marquise,\u201d replied Fouquet, cheerfully, \u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,", "start_byte": 432783, "end_byte": 432823, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 932.395009765625, "cut_end_time": 934.5600097656251, "narration": {"text": "\u201cYou perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- \u201d", "cut_start_time": 844.5049829101563, "cut_end_time": 853.8601079101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\u201cif a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d", "start_byte": 432901, "end_byte": 432975, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 942.035009765625, "cut_end_time": 947.000072265625, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by saying I shall have them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d", "start_byte": 432977, "end_byte": 433085, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 948.3650268554687, "cut_end_time": 956.0000893554687, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\u201cIt is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d", "start_byte": 433087, "end_byte": 433229, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 957.3450268554687, "cut_end_time": 967.1400268554688, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOn the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d", "start_byte": 433231, "end_byte": 433312, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 968.7949902343751, "cut_end_time": 974.540052734375, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOn the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am at a loss to compass your meaning,\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d", "start_byte": 433314, "end_byte": 433515, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 975.6549853515626, "cut_end_time": 991.3300478515625, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\u201d said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.\n\n\u201cTell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\u201cSurely it does not press,", "start_byte": 433517, "end_byte": 433543, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 992.8249731445313, "cut_end_time": 994.7800356445313, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d<|quote_end|> said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d", "start_byte": 433563, "end_byte": 433602, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 996.80498046875, "cut_end_time": 999.12004296875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d", "start_byte": 433604, "end_byte": 433648, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1000.4849780273438, "cut_end_time": 1003.4900405273438, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,", "start_byte": 433650, "end_byte": 433696, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1004.574990234375, "cut_end_time": 1007.5701152343751, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\u201cReally, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely it does not press,\u201d said M. Fouquet.\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, it is very pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d<|quote_end|> returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame,\u201d he murmured, \u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"returned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cMadame, madame,", "start_byte": 434071, "end_byte": 434087, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1039.0650488281249, "cut_end_time": 1040.580111328125, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\u201cVery well, we will talk of that by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. <|quote_start|>\u201cMadame, madame,\u201d<|quote_end|> he murmured, \u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d", "start_byte": 434102, "end_byte": 434168, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1041.8950537109374, "cut_end_time": 1046.1100537109373, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBy and by will not do, for my money is there,\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame,\u201d he murmured, <|quote_start|>\u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.", "narrative_information_pred": {"murmured": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d", "start_byte": 434203, "end_byte": 434271, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1050.5549462890624, "cut_end_time": 1055.5100087890623, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame,\u201d he murmured, \u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. <|quote_start|>\u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale,", "narrative_information_pred": {"returned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d", "start_byte": 434273, "end_byte": 434435, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1056.7549511718748, "cut_end_time": 1069.490013671875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame,\u201d he murmured, \u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale, \u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d", "start_byte": 434437, "end_byte": 434515, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1070.5449560546874, "cut_end_time": 1076.0200185546873, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\u201d returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. \u201cMadame, madame,\u201d he murmured, \u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale, \u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,", "start_byte": 434517, "end_byte": 434547, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1077.844951171875, "cut_end_time": 1079.750076171875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\u201cwhat opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d<|quote_end|> exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale, \u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d", "start_byte": 434568, "end_byte": 434653, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1081.394951171875, "cut_end_time": 1087.290076171875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOf you!\u201d returned the marquise. \u201cTell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. <|quote_start|>\u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale, \u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d", "start_byte": 434693, "end_byte": 434897, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1091.8250195312498, "cut_end_time": 1106.78008203125, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have guessed rightly, then,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cIn truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult you,\u201d she said, turning pale, <|quote_start|>\u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d", "start_byte": 435261, "end_byte": 435356, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1135.9549853515623, "cut_end_time": 1143.4001103515625, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "\u201cwhat singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "\u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d", "start_byte": 435439, "end_byte": 435491, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1151.864970703125, "cut_end_time": 1155.9700957031248, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: <|quote_start|>\u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d", "start_byte": 435493, "end_byte": 435535, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1157.4550146484373, "cut_end_time": 1159.8900771484375, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 58}, {"text": "\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d", "start_byte": 435537, "end_byte": 435585, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1161.4050146484374, "cut_end_time": 1165.1000771484373, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d", "start_byte": 435587, "end_byte": 435636, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1166.3450097656248, "cut_end_time": 1169.4900722656248, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_49.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_49.flac", "original_index": 60}, {"text": "\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d", "start_byte": 435638, "end_byte": 435655, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1170.2950439453125, "cut_end_time": 1171.4201064453125, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_50.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_50.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d", "start_byte": 435657, "end_byte": 435701, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1172.255048828125, "cut_end_time": 1174.560048828125, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_51.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMadame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven\u2019s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_51.flac", "original_index": 62}, {"text": "\u201cI do reject it.\u201d", "start_byte": 435703, "end_byte": 435720, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1175.2649999999999, "cut_end_time": 1176.6399999999999, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_52.flac"}, "context": "\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI do reject it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_52.flac", "original_index": 63}, {"text": "\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,", "start_byte": 435722, "end_byte": 435752, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1178.0349853515625, "cut_end_time": 1179.7901103515624, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_53.flac"}, "context": "\u201cA short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.\u201d\n\nFouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the marquise, with glistening eyes, \u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_53.flac", "original_index": 64}, {"text": "\u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d", "start_byte": 435795, "end_byte": 435821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1183.5050341796873, "cut_end_time": 1185.2300341796874, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_54.flac"}, "context": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: \u201coverwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cI offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what I am now doing is the act of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you reject this mark of my friendship?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do reject it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur Fouquet, look at me,\u201d said the marquise, with glistening eyes, <|quote_start|>\u201cI now offer you my love.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_54.flac", "original_index": 65}, {"text": "\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d", "start_byte": 436210, "end_byte": 436269, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1218.2150048828123, "cut_end_time": 1222.3600048828125, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_55.flac"}, "context": "\u201cOh, madame,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet.\n\n\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_55.flac", "original_index": 68}, {"text": "\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d", "start_byte": 436271, "end_byte": 436324, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1223.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1227.3800185546875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_56.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_56.flac", "original_index": 69}, {"text": "\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d", "start_byte": 436326, "end_byte": 436370, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1228.395, "cut_end_time": 1230.9299999999998, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_57.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_57.flac", "original_index": 70}, {"text": "\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d", "start_byte": 436372, "end_byte": 436479, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1232.3049560546874, "cut_end_time": 1241.9100810546875, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_58.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_58.flac", "original_index": 71}, {"text": "\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d", "start_byte": 436501, "end_byte": 436520, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1244.3749560546873, "cut_end_time": 1245.4700185546874, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_59.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_59.flac", "original_index": 73}, {"text": "\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d", "start_byte": 436522, "end_byte": 436566, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1246.5349902343748, "cut_end_time": 1248.770052734375, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_60.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_60.flac", "original_index": 74}, {"text": "\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,", "start_byte": 436568, "end_byte": 436629, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1249.6149853515624, "cut_end_time": 1254.7900478515623, "narration": {"text": "Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying:", "cut_start_time": 1145.0150537109373, "cut_end_time": 1151.4600537109375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_61.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d<|quote_end|> and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_61.flac", "original_index": 75}, {"text": "\u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d", "start_byte": 436687, "end_byte": 436770, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1259.6050292968748, "cut_end_time": 1265.600029296875, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_62.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWill you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be the supremest happiness for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, <|quote_start|>\u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"pointed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_62.flac", "original_index": 76}, {"text": "\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d", "start_byte": 436772, "end_byte": 436804, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1266.3449462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.4500087890624, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_63.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_63.flac", "original_index": 77}, {"text": "\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d", "start_byte": 436806, "end_byte": 436826, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1270.5549999999998, "cut_end_time": 1271.7199999999998, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_64.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_64.flac", "original_index": 78}, {"text": "\u201cIt is your ruin,", "start_byte": 436828, "end_byte": 436845, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1272.8349902343748, "cut_end_time": 1273.9600527343748, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_65.flac"}, "context": "\u201cTake me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not tempt me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d<|quote_end|> exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_65.flac", "original_index": 79}, {"text": "\u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d", "start_byte": 436900, "end_byte": 436931, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1278.1150048828124, "cut_end_time": 1279.7500673828124, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_66.flac"}, "context": "\u201cDo not refuse me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; <|quote_start|>\u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.\n\nChapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.\n\nDuring the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_66.flac", "original_index": 80}, {"text": "\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d", "start_byte": 436933, "end_byte": 437071, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1280.7350244140623, "cut_end_time": 1291.5300869140624, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_67.flac"}, "context": "\u201cThink seriously of what you are proposing.\u201d\n\n\u201cFouquet, but one word. Let it be \u2018No,\u2019 and I open this door,\u201d and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, \u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.\n\nChapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.\n\nDuring the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_67.flac", "original_index": 81}, {"text": "\u201cThis is too much,", "start_byte": 437073, "end_byte": 437091, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1292.5950341796874, "cut_end_time": 1293.7800966796874, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_68.flac"}, "context": "\u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cThis is too much,\u201d<|quote_end|> exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.\n\nChapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.\n\nDuring the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_68.flac", "original_index": 82}, {"text": "\u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d", "start_byte": 437112, "end_byte": 437201, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1295.4649511718749, "cut_end_time": 1301.8700136718749, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_69.flac"}, "context": "\u201cand you will never see me again. Let that word be \u2018Yes,\u2019 and I am yours entirely.\u201d\n\n\u201cElise! Elise! But this coffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. <|quote_start|>\u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.\n\nChapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.\n\nDuring the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_69.flac", "original_index": 83}, {"text": "\u201cAnd take the woman with it,", "start_byte": 437203, "end_byte": 437231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1302.86498046875, "cut_end_time": 1304.6601054687499, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;", "cut_start_time": 1274.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1277.6800624999998, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_70.flac"}, "context": "\u201cContains my dowry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is your ruin,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; \u201cthere must be a million here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is too much,\u201d exclaimed Fouquet. \u201cI yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd take the woman with it,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.\n\nChapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.\n\nDuring the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_28_dumas_64kb_70.flac", "original_index": 84}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json b/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a3a3ffd1ee606667ac507bd82557474fbfa74a12
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5863/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "2033/tenyears_later_1301_librivox_64kb_mp3/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "2033", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cwhatever may happen,", "start_byte": 444677, "end_byte": 444698, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 614.6450244140625, "cut_end_time": 615.8500244140625, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him the magnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in the horizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun\u2019s disc to the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds was tinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading away into opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried from base to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and upon the crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like a diamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, so dear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing in delicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yacht with its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky -- while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with their trimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such a spectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlers followed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistook the steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As for Buckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, and doublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than De Wardes, who was in black, like an attorney.\n\nThe duke\u2019s attendants had received directions to have a boat in readiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of their master, without approaching him until either he or his friend should summon them, -- <|quote_start|>\u201cwhatever may happen,\u201d<|quote_end|> he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, \u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI await your orders, my lord, but -- \u201d\n\n\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "laying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "stress": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d", "start_byte": 444862, "end_byte": 445087, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 629.4650219726562, "cut_end_time": 644.8100844726563, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him the magnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in the horizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun\u2019s disc to the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds was tinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading away into opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried from base to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and upon the crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like a diamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, so dear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing in delicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yacht with its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky -- while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with their trimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such a spectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlers followed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistook the steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As for Buckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, and doublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than De Wardes, who was in black, like an attorney.\n\nThe duke\u2019s attendants had received directions to have a boat in readiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of their master, without approaching him until either he or his friend should summon them, -- \u201cwhatever may happen,\u201d he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, <|quote_start|>\u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI await your orders, my lord, but -- \u201d\n\n\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d", "start_byte": 445130, "end_byte": 445208, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 649.2549975585938, "cut_end_time": 654.0201225585938, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\u201cwhatever may happen,\u201d he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, \u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI await your orders, my lord, but -- \u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d", "start_byte": 445518, "end_byte": 445586, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 680.754990234375, "cut_end_time": 685.470115234375, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI await your orders, my lord, but -- \u201d\n\n\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d", "start_byte": 445588, "end_byte": 445792, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 686.7150219726562, "cut_end_time": 704.0000219726563, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\u201cI shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship\u2019s.\u201d", "start_byte": 445794, "end_byte": 445895, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 705.0749975585937, "cut_end_time": 711.2901225585938, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship\u2019s.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\u201cMy reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?\u201d", "start_byte": 446454, "end_byte": 446572, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 755.925029296875, "cut_end_time": 764.690091796875, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cMy reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d", "start_byte": 446853, "end_byte": 446957, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 788.5449731445312, "cut_end_time": 795.6500981445313, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d", "start_byte": 446959, "end_byte": 447062, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 796.6650073242188, "cut_end_time": 803.9300073242188, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\u201cMy reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d", "start_byte": 447064, "end_byte": 447159, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 805.1449975585938, "cut_end_time": 811.2900600585938, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d", "start_byte": 447161, "end_byte": 447266, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 812.6249829101563, "cut_end_time": 819.7401079101563, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d\n\nBuckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d", "start_byte": 447268, "end_byte": 447293, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 820.5150170898438, "cut_end_time": 821.6800170898438, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d\n\nBuckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d", "start_byte": 447295, "end_byte": 447503, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 822.7649853515625, "cut_end_time": 836.6600478515625, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d\n\nBuckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,", "start_byte": 447969, "end_byte": 447995, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 875.465, "cut_end_time": 877.4000625, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d\n\nBuckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,\u201d<|quote_end|> said De Wardes, \u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.\n\n\u201cM. de Wardes,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d", "start_byte": 448013, "end_byte": 448110, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 879.3150219726563, "cut_end_time": 885.8500219726562, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d\n\nBuckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.\n\n\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, <|quote_start|>\u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.\n\n\u201cM. de Wardes,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,", "start_byte": 448112, "end_byte": 448142, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 887.0249804687501, "cut_end_time": 889.07004296875, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.\n\n\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, \u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,\u201d<|quote_end|> said Buckingham, \u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.\n\n\u201cM. de Wardes,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d", "start_byte": 448161, "end_byte": 448228, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 890.4250073242188, "cut_end_time": 895.3300073242187, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.\n\n\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, \u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,\u201d said Buckingham, <|quote_start|>\u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.\n\n\u201cM. de Wardes,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,", "start_byte": 448230, "end_byte": 448303, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 896.515, "cut_end_time": 900.9300000000001, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.\n\n\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,\u201d said De Wardes, \u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,\u201d<|quote_end|> said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.\n\n\u201cM. de Wardes,\u201d said Buckingham, \u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\u201cAnd I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;", "start_byte": 448980, "end_byte": 449159, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 957.125009765625, "cut_end_time": 971.350009765625, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes,\u201d concluded Buckingham as he saluted him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cAnd I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;\u201d<|quote_end|> and De Wardes saluted Buckingham.\n\nTheir swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.", "narrative_information_pred": {"saluted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,", "start_byte": 449686, "end_byte": 449712, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1018.6850073242188, "cut_end_time": 1019.9600073242187, "narration": {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,\u201d<|quote_end|> said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.\n\n\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.\u201d And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.\n\n\u201cA hit?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d", "start_byte": 449759, "end_byte": 449794, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1024.3850268554688, "cut_end_time": 1026.9900893554689, "narration": {"text": " And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.", "cut_start_time": 1039.705029296875, "cut_end_time": 1046.360029296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.\n\n\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,\u201d said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.\u201d And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.\n\n\u201cA hit?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said De Wardes furiously,", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d", "start_byte": 449796, "end_byte": 449825, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1027.9450537109374, "cut_end_time": 1030.1900537109375, "narration": {"text": " And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.", "cut_start_time": 1039.705029296875, "cut_end_time": 1046.360029296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.\n\n\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,\u201d said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.\n\n\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.\u201d And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.\n\n\u201cA hit?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said De Wardes furiously, \u201cit is now your turn.\u201d", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.", "start_byte": 449827, "end_byte": 449924, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1031.2849609374998, "cut_end_time": 1038.5000859375, "narration": {"text": " And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.", "cut_start_time": 1039.705029296875, "cut_end_time": 1046.360029296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.\n\n\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,\u201d said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.\n\n\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.\u201d<|quote_end|> And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.\n\n\u201cA hit?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said De Wardes furiously, \u201cit is now your turn.\u201d\n\nAnd with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said,", "narrative_information_pred": {"wounded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\u201cit is now your turn.\u201d", "start_byte": 450225, "end_byte": 450247, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1063.454990234375, "cut_end_time": 1064.870052734375, "narration": {"text": " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat,", "cut_start_time": 1136.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1142.6800185546874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.\u201d And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.\n\n\u201cA hit?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said De Wardes furiously, <|quote_start|>\u201cit is now your turn.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nAnd with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "furiously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d", "start_byte": 451052, "end_byte": 451076, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1132.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1134.090052734375, "narration": {"text": " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat,", "cut_start_time": 1136.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1142.6800185546874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, <|quote_start|>\u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, \u201cbut very near it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?\u201d said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.\n\n\u201cImpossible,\u201d he replied. Then falling down again, said, \u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d\n\nThe boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\u201cbut very near it.\u201d", "start_byte": 451177, "end_byte": 451196, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1143.2349560546875, "cut_end_time": 1146.7400810546874, "narration": {"text": " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat,", "cut_start_time": 1136.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1142.6800185546874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, \u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, <|quote_start|>\u201cbut very near it.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?\u201d said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.\n\n\u201cImpossible,\u201d he replied. Then falling down again, said, \u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d\n\nThe boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "choked": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?", "start_byte": 451198, "end_byte": 451238, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1147.2950048828125, "cut_end_time": 1149.5300673828124, "narration": {"text": " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat,", "cut_start_time": 1136.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1142.6800185546874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, \u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, \u201cbut very near it.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?\u201d<|quote_end|> said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.\n\n\u201cImpossible,\u201d he replied. Then falling down again, said, \u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d\n\nThe boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d", "start_byte": 451343, "end_byte": 451388, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1158.894970703125, "cut_end_time": 1162.050095703125, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, \u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, \u201cbut very near it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?\u201d said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.\n\n\u201cImpossible,\u201d he replied. Then falling down again, said, <|quote_start|>\u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d\n\nThe boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d", "start_byte": 451390, "end_byte": 451425, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1163.0850488281249, "cut_end_time": 1166.340111328125, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, \u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, \u201cbut very near it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?\u201d said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.\n\n\u201cImpossible,\u201d he replied. Then falling down again, said, \u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d", "start_byte": 452492, "end_byte": 452526, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1252.4949462890625, "cut_end_time": 1254.4800087890624, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d exclaimed the duke, <|quote_start|>\u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\n\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!\u201d cried the English sullenly.\n\n\u201cWretched knaves!\u201d exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, \u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!", "start_byte": 452528, "end_byte": 452552, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1255.64494140625, "cut_end_time": 1257.05000390625, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d exclaimed the duke, \u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!\u201d<|quote_end|> cried the English sullenly.\n\n\u201cWretched knaves!\u201d exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, \u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sullenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\u201cWretched knaves!", "start_byte": 452583, "end_byte": 452600, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1260.6550244140624, "cut_end_time": 1261.9900244140624, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d exclaimed the duke, \u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!\u201d cried the English sullenly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cWretched knaves!\u201d<|quote_end|> exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, \u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.\n\n\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d", "start_byte": 452698, "end_byte": 452813, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1269.874970703125, "cut_end_time": 1279.340033203125, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d exclaimed the duke, \u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!\u201d cried the English sullenly.\n\n\u201cWretched knaves!\u201d exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, <|quote_start|>\u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.\n\n\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives,\u201d said the duke. \u201cTake M. de Wardes on shore.\u201d They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke\u2019s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying:", "narrative_information_pred": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives,", "start_byte": 452970, "end_byte": 453022, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1293.424970703125, "cut_end_time": 1297.3600332031249, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\u201d cried the English sullenly.\n\n\u201cWretched knaves!\u201d exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, \u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.\n\n<|quote_start|>\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives,\u201d<|quote_end|> said the duke. \u201cTake M. de Wardes on shore.\u201d They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke\u2019s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying:", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\u201cTake M. de Wardes on shore.", "start_byte": 453039, "end_byte": 453067, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1299.1450439453124, "cut_end_time": 1301.2401064453124, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\u201d exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, \u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d\n\nThe boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.\n\n\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives,\u201d said the duke. <|quote_start|>\u201cTake M. de Wardes on shore.\u201d<|quote_end|> They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke\u2019s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying:", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\u201cFrom my master, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possible care may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes.\u201d", "start_byte": 453811, "end_byte": 453935, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1364.1150048828124, "cut_end_time": 1372.9400673828125, "narration": {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\u201d They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke\u2019s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying: <|quote_start|>\u201cFrom my master, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possible care may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes.\u201d<|quote_end|>\n\nThen, followed by those who had accompanied him, he returned to the boat, which Buckingham had been enabled to reach with the greatest difficulty, but only after he had seen De Wardes out of danger. By this time it was high tide; embroidered coats, and silk sashes were lost; many hats, too, had been carried away by the waves. The flow of the tide had borne the duke\u2019s and De Wardes\u2019s clothes to the shore, and De Wardes was wrapped in the duke\u2019s doublet, under the belief that it was his own, when the fishermen carried him in their arms towards the town.", "narrative_information_pred": {"saying": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5863.tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 47}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5863/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/5863/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..588e93150773c7bdb8f22bd9e436cece485fd404
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5863/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13155 @@
+Ten Years Later
+
+by Alexandre Dumas
+
+Transcriber’s Notes:
+
+As you may be aware, Project Gutenberg has been involved with the writings of both the Alexandre Dumases for some time now, and since we get a few questions about the order in which the books should be read, and in which they were published, these following comments should hopefully help most of our readers.
+
+*****
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne is the final volume of D’Artagnan Romances: it is usually split into three or four parts, and the final portion is entitled The Man in the Iron Mask. The Man in the Iron Mask we’re familiar with today is the last volume of the four-volume edition. [Not all the editions split them in the same manner, hence some of the confusion...but wait...there’s yet more reason for confusion.]
+
+We intend to do ALL of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, split into four etexts entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Ten Years Later, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask; you WILL be getting The Man in the Iron Mask.
+
+One thing that may be causing confusion is that the etext we have now, entitled Ten Years Later, says it’s the sequel to The Three Musketeers. While this is technically true, there’s another book, Twenty Years After, that comes between. The confusion is generated by the two facts that we published Ten Years Later BEFORE we published Twenty Years After, and that many people see those titles as meaning Ten and Twenty Years “After” the original story...however, this is why the different words “After” and “Later”...the Ten Years “After” is ten years after the Twenty Years later...as per history. Also, the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances, while entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, has the subtitle Ten Years Later. These two titles are also given to different volumes: The Vicomte de Bragelonne can refer to the whole book, or the first volume of the three or four-volume editions. Ten Years Later can, similarly, refer to the whole book, or the second volume of the four-volume edition. To add to the confusion, in the case of our etexts, it refers to the first 104 chapters of the whole book, covering material in the first and second etexts in the new series. Here is a guide to the series which may prove helpful:
+
+The Three Musketeers: Etext 1257 -- First book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1625-1628.
+
+Twenty Years After: Etext 1259 -- Second book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1648-1649. [Third in the order that we published, but second in time sequence!!!]
+
+Ten Years Later: Etext 1258 -- First 104 chapters of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1660-1661.
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne: Etext 2609 (first in the new series) -- First 75 chapters of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the year 1660.
+
+Ten Years Later: Etext 2681 (our new etext) -- Chapters 76-140 of that third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1660-1661. [In this particular editing of it]
+
+Louise de la Valliere: forthcoming (our next etext) -- Chapters 141-208 of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the year 1661.
+
+The Man in the Iron Mask: forthcoming (following) -- Chapters 209-269 of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1661-1673.
+
+If we’ve calculated correctly, that fourth text SHOULD correspond to the modern editions of The Man in the Iron Mask, which is still widely circulated, and comprises about the last 1/4 of The Vicomte de Bragelonne.
+
+Many thanks to Dr. David Coward, whose editions of the D’Artagnan Romances have proved an invaluable source of information.
+
+*****
+
+Introduction:
+
+In the months of March-July in 1844, in the magazine Le Siecle, the first portion of a story appeared, penned by the celebrated playwright Alexandre Dumas. It was based, he claimed, on some manuscripts he had found a year earlier in the Bibliotheque Nationale while researching a history he planned to write on Louis XIV. They chronicled the adventures of a young man named D’Artagnan who, upon entering Paris, became almost immediately embroiled in court intrigues, international politics, and ill-fated affairs between royal lovers. Over the next six years, readers would enjoy the adventures of this youth and his three famous friends, Porthos, Athos, and Aramis, as their exploits unraveled behind the scenes of some of the most momentous events in French and even English history.
+
+Eventually these serialized adventures were published in novel form, and became the three D’Artagnan Romances known today. Here is a brief summary of the first two novels:
+
+The Three Musketeers (serialized March-July, 1844): The year is 1625. The young D’Artagnan arrives in Paris at the tender age of 18, and almost immediately offends three musketeers, Porthos, Aramis, and Athos. Instead of dueling, the four are attacked by five of the Cardinal’s guards, and the courage of the youth is made apparent during the battle. The four become fast friends, and, when asked by D’Artagnan’s landlord to find his missing wife, embark upon an adventure that takes them across both France and England in order to thwart the plans of the Cardinal Richelieu. Along the way, they encounter a beautiful young spy, named simply Milady, who will stop at nothing to disgrace Queen Anne of Austria before her husband, Louis XIII, and take her revenge upon the four friends.
+
+Twenty Years After (serialized January-August, 1845): The year is now 1648, twenty years since the close of the last story. Louis XIII has died, as has Cardinal Richelieu, and while the crown of France may sit upon the head of Anne of Austria as Regent for the young Louis XIV, the real power resides with the Cardinal Mazarin, her secret husband. D’Artagnan is now a lieutenant of musketeers, and his three friends have retired to private life. Athos turned out to be a nobleman, the Comte de la Fere, and has retired to his home with his son, Raoul de Bragelonne. Aramis, whose real name is D’Herblay, has followed his intention of shedding the musketeer’s cassock for the priest’s robes, and Porthos has married a wealthy woman, who left him her fortune upon her death. But trouble is stirring in both France and England. Cromwell menaces the institution of royalty itself while marching against Charles I, and at home the Fronde is threatening to tear France apart. D’Artagnan brings his friends out of retirement to save the threatened English monarch, but Mordaunt, the son of Milady, who seeks to avenge his mother’s death at the musketeers’ hands, thwarts their valiant efforts. Undaunted, our heroes return to France just in time to help save the young Louis XIV, quiet the Fronde, and tweak the nose of Cardinal Mazarin.
+
+The third novel, The Vicomte de Bragelonne (serialized October, 1847 -- January, 1850), has enjoyed a strange history in its English translation. It has been split into three, four, or five volumes at various points in its history. The five-volume edition generally does not give titles to the smaller portions, but the others do. In the three-volume edition, the novels are entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask. For the purposes of this etext, I have chosen to split the novel as the four-volume edition does, with these titles: The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Ten Years Later, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask. In the last etext:
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne (Etext 2609): It is the year 1660, and D’Artagnan, after thirty-five years of loyal service, has become disgusted with serving King Louis XIV while the real power resides with the Cardinal Mazarin, and has tendered his resignation. He embarks on his own project, that of restoring Charles II to the throne of England, and, with the help of Athos, succeeds, earning himself quite a fortune in the process. D’Artagnan returns to Paris to live the life of a rich citizen, and Athos, after negotiating the marriage of Philip, the king’s brother, to Princess Henrietta of England, likewise retires to his own estate, La Fere. Meanwhile, Mazarin has finally died, and left Louis to assume the reigns of power, with the assistance of M. Colbert, formerly Mazarin’s trusted clerk. Colbert has an intense hatred for M. Fouquet, the king’s superintendent of finances, and has resolved to use any means necessary to bring about his fall. With the new rank of intendant bestowed on him by Louis, Colbert succeeds in having two of Fouquet’s loyal friends tried and executed. He then brings to the king’s attention that Fouquet is fortifying the island of Belle-Ile-en-Mer, and could possibly be planning to use it as a base for some military operation against the king. Louis calls D’Artagnan out of retirement and sends him to investigate the island, promising him a tremendous salary and his long-promised promotion to captain of the musketeers upon his return. At Belle-Isle, D’Artagnan discovers that the engineer of the fortifications is, in fact, Porthos, now the Baron du Vallon, and that’s not all. The blueprints for the island, although in Porthos’s handwriting, show evidence of another script that has been erased, that of Aramis. D’Artagnan later discovers that Aramis has become the bishop of Vannes, which is, coincidentally, a parish belonging to M. Fouquet. Suspecting that D’Artagnan has arrived on the king’s behalf to investigate, Aramis tricks D’Artagnan into wandering around Vannes in search of Porthos, and sends Porthos on an heroic ride back to Paris to warn Fouquet of the danger. Fouquet rushes to the king, and gives him Belle-Isle as a present, thus allaying any suspicion, and at the same time humiliating Colbert, just minutes before the usher announces someone else seeking an audience with the king.
+
+And now, the second etext of The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Enjoy!
+
+John Bursey Mordaunt@aol.com June, 2000
+
+*****
+
+There is one French custom that may cause confusion. The Duc d’Orleans is traditionally called “Monsieur” and his wife “Madame.” Gaston, the king’s uncle, currently holds that title. Upon the event of his death, it will be conferred upon the king’s brother, Philip, who is currently the Duc d’Anjou. The customary title of “Monsieur” will go to him as well, and upon his future wife, Henrietta of England, that of “Madame.” Gaston’s widow will be referred to as the “Dowager Madame.” -- JB
+
+*****
+
+Chapter I. In which D’Artagnan finishes by at Length placing his Hand upon his Captain’s Commission.
+
+The reader guesses beforehand whom the usher preceded in announcing the courier from Bretagne. This messenger was easily recognized. It was D’Artagnan, his clothes dusty, his face inflamed, his hair dripping with sweat, his legs stiff; he lifted his feet painfully at every step, on which resounded the clink of his blood-stained spurs. He perceived in the doorway he was passing through, the superintendent coming out. Fouquet bowed with a smile to him who, an hour before, was bringing him ruin and death. D’Artagnan found in his goodness of heart, and in his inexhaustible vigor of body, enough presence of mind to remember the kind reception of this man; he bowed then, also, much more from benevolence and compassion, than from respect. He felt upon his lips the word which had so many times been repeated to the Duc de Guise: “Fly.” But to pronounce that word would have been to betray his cause; to speak that word in the cabinet of the king, and before an usher, would have been to ruin himself gratuitously, and could save nobody. D’Artagnan then, contented himself with bowing to Fouquet and entered. At this moment the king floated between the joy the last words of Fouquet had given him, and his pleasure at the return of D’Artagnan. Without being a courtier, D’Artagnan had a glance as sure and as rapid as if he had been one. He read, on his entrance, devouring humiliation on the countenance of Colbert. He even heard the king say these words to him: -- 
+
+“Ah! Monsieur Colbert; you have then nine hundred thousand livres at the intendance?” Colbert, suffocated, bowed but made no reply. All this scene entered into the mind of D’Artagnan, by the eyes and ears, at once.
+
+The first word of Louis to his musketeer, as if he wished it to contrast with what he was saying at the moment, was a kind “good day.” His second was to send away Colbert. The latter left the king’s cabinet, pallid and tottering, whilst D’Artagnan twisted up the ends of his mustache.
+
+“I love to see one of my servants in this disorder,” said the king, admiring the martial stains upon the clothes of his envoy.
+
+“I thought, sire, my presence at the Louvre was sufficiently urgent to excuse my presenting myself thus before you.”
+
+“You bring me great news, then, monsieur?”
+
+“Sire, the thing is this, in two words: Belle-Isle is fortified, admirably fortified; Belle-Isle has a double enceinte, a citadel, two detached forts; its ports contain three corsairs; and the side batteries only await their cannon.”
+
+“I know all that, monsieur,” replied the king.
+
+“What! your majesty knows all that?” replied the musketeer, stupefied.
+
+“I have the plan of the fortifications of Belle-Isle,” said the king.
+
+“Your majesty has the plan?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+“It is really correct, sire: I saw a similar one on the spot.”
+
+D’Artagnan’s brow became clouded.
+
+“Ah! I understand all. Your majesty did not trust to me alone, but sent some other person,” said he in a reproachful tone.
+
+“Of what importance is the manner, monsieur, in which I have learnt what I know, so that I know it?”
+
+“Sire, sire,” said the musketeer, without seeking even to conceal his dissatisfaction; “but I must be permitted to say to your majesty, that it is not worth while to make me use such speed, to risk twenty times the breaking of my neck, to salute me on my arrival with such intelligence. Sire, when people are not trusted, or are deemed insufficient, they should scarcely be employed.” And D’Artagnan, with a movement perfectly military, stamped with his foot, and left upon the floor dust stained with blood. The king looked at him, inwardly enjoying his first triumph.
+
+“Monsieur,” said he, at the expiration of a minute, “not only is Belle-Isle known to me, but, still further, Belle-Isle is mine.”
+
+“That is well! that is well, sire, I ask but one thing more,” replied D’Artagnan. -- “My discharge.”
+
+“What! your discharge?”
+
+“Without doubt I am too proud to eat the bread of the king without earning it, or rather by gaining it badly. -- My discharge, sire!”
+
+“Oh, oh!”
+
+“I ask for my discharge, or I will take it.”
+
+“You are angry, monsieur?”
+
+“I have reason, mordioux! Thirty-two hours in the saddle, I ride day and night, I perform prodigies of speed, I arrive stiff as the corpse of a man who has been hung -- and another arrives before me! Come, sire, I am a fool! -- My discharge, sire!”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Louis, leaning his white hand upon the dusty arm of the musketeer, “what I tell you will not at all affect that which I promised you. A king’s word given must be kept.” And the king going straight to his table, opened a drawer, and took out a folded paper. “Here is your commission of captain of musketeers; you have won it, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+D’Artagnan opened the paper eagerly, and scanned it twice. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
+
+“And this commission is given you,” continued the king, “not only on account of your journey to Belle-Isle but, moreover, for your brave intervention at the Place de Greve. There, likewise, you served me valiantly.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” said D’Artagnan, without his self-command being able to prevent a blush from mounting to his eyes -- “you know that also, sire?”
+
+“Yes, I know it.”
+
+The king possessed a piercing glance and an infallible judgment when it was his object to read men’s minds. “You have something to say,” said he to the musketeer, “something to say which you do not say. Come, speak freely, monsieur; you know that I told you, once and for all, that you are to be always quite frank with me.”
+
+“Well, sire! what I have to say is this, that I would prefer being made captain of the musketeers for having charged a battery at the head of my company, or taken a city, than for causing two wretches to be hung.”
+
+“Is this quite true you tell me?”
+
+“And why should your majesty suspect me of dissimulation, I ask?”
+
+“Because I have known you well, monsieur; you cannot repent of having drawn your sword for me.”
+
+“Well, in that your majesty is deceived, and greatly; yes, I do repent of having drawn my sword on account of the results that action produced; the poor men who were hung, sire, were neither your enemies nor mine; and they could not defend themselves.”
+
+The king preserved silence for a moment. “And your companion, M. d’Artagnan, does he partake of your repentance?”
+
+“My companion?”
+
+“Yes, you were not alone, I have been told.”
+
+“Alone, where?”
+
+“At the Place de Greve.”
+
+“No, sire, no,” said D’Artagnan, blushing at the idea that the king might have a suspicion that he, D’Artagnan, had wished to engross to himself all the glory that belonged to Raoul; “no, mordioux! and as your majesty says, I had a companion, and a good companion, too.”
+
+“A young man?”
+
+“Yes, sire; a young man. Oh! your majesty must accept my compliments, you are as well informed of things out of doors as things within. It is M. Colbert who makes all these fine reports to the king.”
+
+“M. Colbert has said nothing but good of you, M. d’Artagnan, and he would have met with a bad reception if he had come to tell me anything else.”
+
+“That is fortunate!”
+
+“But he also said much good of that young man.”
+
+“And with justice,” said the musketeer.
+
+“In short, it appears that this young man is a fire-eater,” said Louis, in order to sharpen the sentiment which he mistook for envy.
+
+“A fire-eater! Yes, sire,” repeated D’Artagnan, delighted on his part to direct the king’s attention to Raoul.
+
+“Do you not know his name?”
+
+“Well, I think -- ”
+
+“You know him then?”
+
+“I have known him nearly five-and-twenty years, sire.”
+
+“Why, he is scarcely twenty-five years old!” cried the king.
+
+“Well, sire! I have known him ever since he was born, that is all.”
+
+“Do you affirm that?”
+
+“Sire,” said D’Artagnan, “your majesty questions me with a mistrust in which I recognize another character than your own. M. Colbert, who has so well informed you, has he not forgotten to tell you that this young man is the son of my most intimate friend?”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne?”
+
+“Certainly, sire. The father of the Vicomte de Bragelonne is M. le Comte de la Fere, who so powerfully assisted in the restoration of King Charles II. Bragelonne comes of a valiant race, sire.”
+
+“Then he is the son of that nobleman who came to me, or rather to M. Mazarin, on the part of King Charles II., to offer me his alliance?”
+
+“Exactly, sire.”
+
+“And the Comte de la Fere is a great soldier, say you?”
+
+“Sire, he is a man who has drawn his sword more times for the king, your father, than there are, at present, months in the happy life of your majesty.”
+
+It was Louis XIV. who now bit his lip.
+
+“That is well, M. d’Artagnan, very well! And M. le Comte de la Fere is your friend, say you?”
+
+“For about forty years; yes, sire. Your majesty may see that I do not speak to you of yesterday.”
+
+“Should you be glad to see this young man, M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Delighted, sire.”
+
+The king touched his bell, and an usher appeared. “Call M. de Bragelonne,” said the king.
+
+“Ah! ah! he is here?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“He is on guard to-day, at the Louvre, with the company of the gentlemen of monsieur le prince.”
+
+The king had scarcely ceased speaking, when Raoul presented himself, and, on seeing D’Artagnan, smiled on him with that charming smile which is only found upon the lips of youth.
+
+“Come, come,” said D’Artagnan, familiarly, to Raoul, “the king will allow you to embrace me; only tell his majesty you thank him.”
+
+Raoul bowed so gracefully, that Louis, to whom all superior qualities were pleasing when they did not overshadow his own, admired his beauty, strength, and modesty.
+
+“Monsieur,” said the king, addressing Raoul, “I have asked monsieur le prince to be kind enough to give you up to me; I have received his reply, and you belong to me from this morning. Monsieur le prince was a good master, but I hope you will not lose by the exchange.”
+
+“Yes, yes, Raoul, be satisfied; the king has some good in him,” said D’Artagnan, who had fathomed the character of Louis, and who played with his self-love, within certain limits; always observing, be it understood, the proprieties and flattering, even when he appeared to be bantering.
+
+“Sire,” said Bragelonne, with voice soft and musical, and with the natural and easy elocution he inherited from his father; “Sire, it is not from to-day that I belong to your majesty.”
+
+“Oh! no, I know,” said the king, “you mean your enterprise of the Greve. That day, you were truly mine, monsieur.”
+
+“Sire, it is not of that day I would speak; it would not become me to refer to so paltry a service in the presence of such a man as M. d’Artagnan. I would speak of a circumstance which created an epoch in my life, and which consecrated me, from the age of sixteen, to the devoted service of your majesty.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the king, “what was that circumstance? Tell me, monsieur.”
+
+“This is it, sire. -- When I was setting out on my first campaign, that is to say, to join the army of monsieur le prince, M. le Comte de la Fere came to conduct me as far as Saint-Denis, where the remains of King Louis XIII. wait, upon the lowest steps of the funeral basilique, a successor, whom God will not send him, I hope, for many years. Then he made me swear upon the ashes of our masters, to serve royalty, represented by you -- incarnate in you, sire -- to serve it in word, in thought, and in action. I swore, and God and the dead were witnesses to my oath. During ten years, sire, I have not so often as I desired had occasion to keep it. I am a soldier of your majesty, and nothing else; and, on calling me nearer to you, I do not change my master, I only change my garrison.”
+
+Raoul was silent and bowed. Louis still listened after he had done speaking.
+
+“Mordioux!” cried D’Artagnan, “that was well spoken! was it not, your majesty? A good race! a noble race!”
+
+“Yes,” murmured the king, without, however daring to manifest his emotion, for it had no other cause than contact with a nature intrinsically noble. “Yes, monsieur, you say truly: -- wherever you were, you were the king’s. But in changing your garrison, believe me you will find an advancement of which you are worthy.”
+
+Raoul saw that this ended what the king had to say to him. And with the perfect tact which characterized his refined nature, he bowed and retired.
+
+“Is there anything else, monsieur, of which you have to inform me?” said the king, when he found himself again alone with D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, sire, and I kept that news for the last, for it is sad, and will clothe European royalty in mourning.”
+
+“What do you tell me?”
+
+“Sire, in passing through Blois, a word, a sad word, echoed from the palace, struck my ear.”
+
+“In truth, you terrify me, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Sire, this word was pronounced to me by a piqueur, who wore crape on his arm.”
+
+“My uncle, Gaston of Orleans, perhaps.”
+
+“Sire, he has rendered his last sigh.”
+
+“And I was not warned of it!” cried the king, whose royal susceptibility saw an insult in the absence of this intelligence.
+
+“Oh! do not be angry, sire,” said D’Artagnan; “neither the couriers of Paris, nor the couriers of the whole world, can travel with your servant; the courier from Blois will not be here these two hours, and he rides well, I assure you, seeing that I only passed him on the thither side of Orleans.”
+
+“My uncle Gaston,” murmured Louis, pressing his hand to his brow, and comprising in those three words all that his memory recalled of that symbol of opposing sentiments.
+
+“Eh! yes, sire, it is thus,” said D’Artagnan, philosophically replying to the royal thought, “it is thus the past flies away.”
+
+“That is true, monsieur, that is true; but there remains for us, thank God! the future; and we will try to make it not too dark.”
+
+“I feel confidence in your majesty on that head,” said D’Artagnan, bowing, “and now -- ”
+
+“You are right, monsieur; I had forgotten the hundred leagues you have just ridden. Go, monsieur, take care of one of the best of soldiers, and when you have reposed a little, come and place yourself at my disposal.”
+
+“Sire, absent or present, I am always yours.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed and retired. Then, as if he had only come from Fontainebleau, he quickly traversed the Louvre to rejoin Bragelonne.
+
+Chapter II. A Lover and His Mistress.
+
+Whilst the wax-lights were burning in the castle of Blois, around the inanimate body of Gaston of Orleans, that last representative of the past; whilst the bourgeois of the city were thinking out his epitaph, which was far from being a panegyric; whilst madame the dowager, no longer remembering that in her young days she had loved that senseless corpse to such a degree as to fly the paternal palace for his sake, was making, within twenty paces of the funeral apartment, her little calculations of interest and her little sacrifices of pride; other interests and other prides were in agitation in all the parts of the castle into which a living soul could penetrate. Neither the lugubrious sounds of the bells, nor the voices of the chanters, nor the splendor of the wax-lights through the windows, nor the preparations for the funeral, had power to divert the attention of two persons, placed at a window of the interior court -- a window that we are acquainted with, and which lighted a chamber forming part of what were called the little apartments. For the rest, a joyous beam of the sun, for the sun appeared to care little for the loss France had just suffered; a sunbeam, we say, descended upon them, drawing perfumes from the neighboring flowers, and animating the walls themselves. These two persons, so occupied, not by the death of the duke, but by the conversation which was the consequence of that death, were a young woman and a young man. The latter personage, a man of from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, with a mien sometimes lively and sometimes dull, making good use of two large eyes, shaded with long eye-lashes, was short of stature and swart of skin; he smiled with an enormous, but well-furnished mouth, and his pointed chin, which appeared to enjoy a mobility nature does not ordinarily grant to that portion of the countenance, leant from time to time very lovingly towards his interlocutrix, who, we must say, did not always draw back so rapidly as strict propriety had a right to require. The young girl -- we know her, for we have already seen her, at that very same window, by the light of that same sun -- the young girl presented a singular mixture of shyness and reflection; she was charming when she laughed, beautiful when she became serious; but, let us hasten to say, she was more frequently charming than beautiful. These two appeared to have attained the culminating point of a discussion -- half-bantering, half-serious.
+
+“Now, Monsieur Malicorne,” said the young girl, “does it, at length, please you that we should talk reasonably?”
+
+“You believe that that is very easy, Mademoiselle Aure,” replied the young man. “To do what we like, when we can only do what we are able -- ”
+
+“Good! there he is bewildered in his phrases.”
+
+“Who, I?”
+
+“Yes, you; quit that lawyer’s logic, my dear.”
+
+“Another impossibility. Clerk I am, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Demoiselle I am, Monsieur Malicorne.”
+
+“Alas, I know it well, and you overwhelm me by your rank; so I will say no more to you.”
+
+“Well, no, I don’t overwhelm you; say what you have to tell me -- say it, I insist upon it.”
+
+“Well, I obey you.”
+
+“That is truly fortunate.”
+
+“Monsieur is dead.”
+
+“Ah, peste! that’s news! And where do you come from, to be able to tell us that?”
+
+“I come from Orleans, mademoiselle.”
+
+“And is that all the news you bring?”
+
+“Ah, no; I am come to tell you that Madame Henrietta of England is coming to marry the king’s brother.”
+
+“Indeed, Malicorne, you are insupportable with your news of the last century. Now, mind, if you persist in this bad habit of laughing at people, I will have you turned out.”
+
+“Oh!”
+
+“Yes, for really you exasperate me.”
+
+“There, there. Patience, mademoiselle.”
+
+“You want to make yourself of consequence; I know well enough why. Go!”
+
+“Tell me, and I will answer you frankly, yes, if the thing be true.”
+
+“You know that I am anxious to have that commission of lady of honor, which I have been foolish enough to ask of you, and you do not use your credit.”
+
+“Who, I?” Malicorne cast down his eyes, joined his hands, and assumed his sullen air. “And what credit can the poor clerk of a procurer have, pray?”
+
+“Your father has not twenty thousand livres a year for nothing, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“A provincial fortune, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Your father is not in the secrets of monsieur le prince for nothing.”
+
+“An advantage which is confined to lending monseigneur money.”
+
+“In a word, you are not the most cunning young fellow in the province for nothing.”
+
+“You flatter me!”
+
+“Who, I?”
+
+“Yes, you.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Since I maintain that I have no credit, and you maintain I have.”
+
+“Well, then, -- my commission?”
+
+“Well, -- your commission?”
+
+“Shall I have it, or shall I not?”
+
+“You shall have it.”
+
+“Ay, but when?”
+
+“When you like.”
+
+“Where is it, then?”
+
+“In my pocket.”
+
+“How -- in your pocket?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+And, with a smile, Malicorne drew from his pocket a letter, upon which mademoiselle seized as a prey, and which she read eagerly. As she read, her face brightened.
+
+“Malicorne,” cried she after having read it, “In truth, you are a good lad.”
+
+“What for, mademoiselle?”
+
+“Because you might have been paid for this commission, and you have not.” And she burst into a loud laugh, thinking to put the clerk out of countenance; but Malicorne sustained the attack bravely.
+
+“I do not understand you,” said he. It was now Montalais who was disconcerted in her turn. “I have declared my sentiments to you,” continued Malicorne. “You have told me three times, laughing all the while, that you did not love me; you have embraced me once without laughing, and that is all I want.”
+
+“All?” said the proud and coquettish Montalais, in a tone through which the wounded pride was visible.
+
+“Absolutely all, mademoiselle,” replied Malicorne.
+
+“Ah!” -- And this monosyllable indicated as much anger as the young man might have expected gratitude. He shook his head quietly.
+
+“Listen, Montalais,” said he, without heeding whether that familiarity pleased his mistress or not; “let us not dispute about it.”
+
+“And why not?”
+
+“Because during the year which I have known you, you might have had me turned out of doors twenty times if I did not please you.”
+
+“Indeed; and on what account should I have had you turned out?”
+
+“Because I have been sufficiently impertinent for that.”
+
+“Oh, that, -- yes, that’s true.”
+
+“You see plainly that you are forced to avow it,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne!”
+
+“Don’t let us be angry; if you have retained me, then it has not been without cause.”
+
+“It is not, at least, because I love you,” cried Montalais.
+
+“Granted. I will even say, at this moment, I am certain that you hate me.”
+
+“Oh, you have never spoken so truly.”
+
+“Well, on my part, I detest you.”
+
+“Ah! I take the act.”
+
+“Take it. You find me brutal and foolish; on my part I find you have a harsh voice, and your face is too often distorted with anger. At this moment you would allow yourself to be thrown out of that window rather than allow me to kiss the tip of your finger; I would precipitate myself from the top of the balcony rather than touch the hem of your robe. But, in five minutes, you will love me, and I shall adore you. Oh, it is just so.”
+
+“I doubt it.”
+
+“And I swear it.”
+
+“Coxcomb!”
+
+“And then, that is not the true reason. You stand in need of me, Aure, and I of you. When it pleases you to be gay, I make you laugh; when it suits me to be loving, I look at you. I have given you a commission of lady of honor which you wished for; you will give me, presently, something I wish for.”
+
+“I will?”
+
+“Yes, you will; but, at this moment, my dear Aure, I declare to you that I wish for absolutely nothing, so be at ease.”
+
+“You are a frightful man, Malicorne; I was going to rejoice at getting this commission, and thus you quench my joy.”
+
+“Good; there is no time lost, -- you will rejoice when I am gone.”
+
+“Go, then; and after -- ”
+
+“So be it; but in the first place, a piece of advice.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Resume your good-humor, -- you are ugly when you pout.”
+
+“Coarse!”
+
+“Come, let us tell the truth to each other, while we are about it.”
+
+“Oh, Malicorne! Bad-hearted man!”
+
+“Oh, Montalais! Ungrateful girl!”
+
+The young man leant with his elbow upon the window-frame; Montalais took a book and opened it. Malicorne stood up, brushed his hat with his sleeve, smoothed down his black doublet; -- Montalais, though pretending to read, looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
+
+“Good!” cried she, furious; “he has assumed his respectful air -- and he will pout for a week.”
+
+“A fortnight, mademoiselle,” said Malicorne, bowing.
+
+Montalais lifted up her little doubled fist. “Monster!” said she; “oh! that I were a man!”
+
+“What would you do to me?”
+
+“I would strangle you.”
+
+“Ah! very well, then,” said Malicorne; “I believe I begin to desire something.”
+
+“And what do you desire, Monsieur Demon? That I should lose my soul from anger?”
+
+Malicorne was rolling his hat respectfully between his fingers; but, all at once, he let fall his hat, seized the young girl by the shoulders, pulled her towards him, and sealed her mouth with two lips that were very warm, for a man pretending to so much indifference. Aure would have cried out, but the cry was stifled in his kiss. Nervous and, apparently, angry, the young girl pushed Malicorne against the wall.
+
+“Good!” said Malicorne, philosophically, “that’s enough for six weeks. Adieu, mademoiselle, accept my very humble salutation.” And he made three steps towards the door.
+
+“Well! no, -- you shall not go!” cried Montalais, stamping with her little foot. “Stay where you are! I order you!”
+
+“You order me?”
+
+“Yes; am I not mistress?”
+
+“Of my heart and soul, without doubt.”
+
+“A pretty property! ma foi! The soul is silly and the heart dry.”
+
+“Beware, Montalais, I know you,” said Malicorne; “you are going to fall in love with your humble servant.”
+
+“Well, yes!” said she, hanging round his neck with childish indolence, rather than with loving abandonment. “Well, yes! for I must thank you at least.”
+
+“And for what?”
+
+“For the commission; is it not my whole future?”
+
+“And mine.”
+
+Montalais looked at him.
+
+“It is frightful,” said she, “that one can never guess whether you are speaking seriously or not.”
+
+“I cannot speak more seriously. I was going to Paris, -- you are going there, -- we are going there.”
+
+“And so it was for that motive only you have served me; selfish fellow!”
+
+“What would you have me say, Aure? I cannot live without you.”
+
+“Well! in truth, it is just so with me; you are, nevertheless, it must be confessed, a very bad-hearted young man.”
+
+“Aure, my dear Aure, take care! if you take to calling me names again, you know the effect they produce upon me, and I shall adore you.” And so saying, Malicorne drew the young girl a second time towards him. But at that instant a step resounded on the staircase. The young people were so close, that they would have been surprised in the arms of each other, if Montalais had not violently pushed Malicorne, with his back against the door, just then opening. A loud cry, followed by angry reproaches, immediately resounded. It was Madame de Saint-Remy who uttered the cry and the angry words. The unlucky Malicorne almost crushed her between the wall and the door she was coming in at.
+
+“It is again that good-for-nothing!” cried the old lady. “Always here!”
+
+“Ah, madame!” replied Malicorne, in a respectful tone; “it is eight long days since I was here.”
+
+Chapter III. In Which We at Length See the True Heroine of this History Appear.
+
+Behind Madame de Saint-Remy stood Mademoiselle de la Valliere. She heard the explosion of maternal anger, and as she divined the cause of it, she entered the chamber trembling, and perceived the unlucky Malicorne, whose woeful countenance might have softened or set laughing whoever observed it coolly. He had promptly intrenched himself behind a large chair, as if to avoid the first attacks of Madame de Saint-Remy; he had no hopes of prevailing with words, for she spoke louder than he, and without stopping; but he reckoned upon the eloquence of his gestures. The old lady would neither listen to nor see anything; Malicorne had long been one of her antipathies. But her anger was too great not to overflow from Malicorne on his accomplice. Montalais had her turn.
+
+“And you, mademoiselle; you may be certain I shall inform madame of what is going on in the apartment of one of her ladies of honor?”
+
+“Oh, dear mother!” cried Mademoiselle de la Valliere, “for mercy’s sake, spare -- ”
+
+“Hold your tongue, mademoiselle, and do not uselessly trouble yourself to intercede for unworthy people; that a young maid of honor like you should be subjected to a bad example is, certes, a misfortune great enough; but that you should sanction it by your indulgence is what I will not allow.”
+
+“But in truth,” said Montalais, rebelling again, “I do not know under what pretense you treat me thus. I am doing no harm, I suppose?”
+
+“And that great good-for-nothing, mademoiselle,” resumed Madame de Saint-Remy, pointing to Malicorne, “is he here to do any good, I ask you?”
+
+“He is neither here for good nor harm, madame; he comes to see me, that is all.”
+
+“It is all very well! all very well!” said the old lady. “Her royal highness shall be informed of it, and she will judge.”
+
+“At all events, I do not see why,” replied Montalais, “it should be forbidden M. Malicorne to have intentions towards me, if his intentions are honorable.”
+
+“Honorable intentions with such a face!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy.
+
+“I thank you in the name of my face, madame,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Come, my daughter, come,” continued Madame de Saint-Remy; “we will go and inform madame that at the very moment she is weeping for her husband, at the moment when we are all weeping for a master in this old castle of Blois, the abode of grief, there are people who amuse themselves with flirtations!”
+
+“Oh!” cried both the accused, with one voice.
+
+“A maid of honor! a maid of honor!” cried the old lady, lifting her hands towards heaven.
+
+“Well! it is there you are mistaken, madame,” said Montalais, highly exasperated; “I am no longer a maid of honor, of madame’s at least.”
+
+“Have you given in your resignation, mademoiselle? That is well! I cannot but applaud such a determination, and I do applaud it.”
+
+“I do not give in my resignation, madame; I take another service, -- that is all.”
+
+“In the bourgeoisie or in the robe?” asked Madame de Saint-Remy, disdainfully.
+
+“Please to learn, madame, that I am not a girl to serve either bourgeoises or robines; and that instead of the miserable court at which you vegetate, I am going to reside in a court almost royal.”
+
+“Ha, ha! a royal court,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, forcing a laugh; “a royal court! What do you think of that, my daughter?”
+
+And she turned towards Mademoiselle de la Valliere, whom she would by main force have dragged away from Montalais, and who instead of obeying the impulse of Madame de Saint-Remy, looked first at her mother and then at Montalais with her beautiful conciliatory eyes.
+
+“I did not say a royal court, madame,” replied Montalais; “because Madame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king.”
+
+A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonished Madame de Saint-Remy more than the last sentence of Montalais.
+
+“What do you say? of Son Altesse Royale Madame Henrietta?” stammered out the old lady.
+
+“I say I am going to belong to her household, as maid of honor; that is what I say.”
+
+“As maid of honor!” cried, at the same time, Madame de Saint-Remy with despair, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere with delight.
+
+“Yes, madame, as maid of honor.”
+
+The old lady’s head sank down as if the blow had been too severe for her. But, almost immediately recovering herself, she launched a last projectile at her adversary.
+
+“Oh! oh!” said she; “I have heard of many of these sorts of promises beforehand, which often lead people to flatter themselves with wild hopes, and at the last moment, when the time comes to keep the promises, and have the hopes realized, they are surprised to see the great credit upon which they reckoned vanish like smoke.”
+
+“Oh! madame, the credit of my protector is incontestable and his promises are as good as deeds.”
+
+“And would it be indiscreet to ask you the name of this powerful protector?”
+
+“Oh! mon Dieu! no! it is that gentleman there,” said Montalais, pointing to Malicorne, who, during this scene, had preserved the most imperturbable coolness, and the most comic dignity.
+
+“Monsieur!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy, with an explosion of hilarity, “monsieur is your protector! Is the man whose credit is so powerful, and whose promises are as good as deeds, Monsieur Malicorne!”
+
+Malicorne bowed.
+
+As to Montalais, as her sole reply, she drew the brevet from her pocket, and showed it to the old lady.
+
+“Here is the brevet,” said she.
+
+At once all was over. As soon as she had cast a rapid glance over this fortunate brevet, the good lady clasped her hands, an unspeakable expression of envy and despair contracted her countenance, and she was obliged to sit down to avoid fainting. Montalais was not malicious enough to rejoice extravagantly at her victory, or to overwhelm the conquered enemy, particularly when that enemy was the mother of her friend; she used then, but did not abuse her triumph. Malicorne was less generous; he assumed noble poses in his fauteuil and stretched himself out with a familiarity which, two hours earlier, would have drawn upon him threats of a caning.
+
+“Maid of honor to the young madame!” repeated Madame de Saint-Remy, still but half convinced.
+
+“Yes, madame, and through the protection of M. Malicorne, moreover.”
+
+“It is incredible!” repeated the old lady: “is it not incredible, Louise?” But Louise did not reply; she was sitting, thoughtfully, almost sad; passing one had over her beautiful brow, she sighed heavily.
+
+“Well, but, monsieur,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, all at once, “how did you manage to obtain this post?”
+
+“I asked for it, madame.”
+
+“Of whom?”
+
+“One of my friends.”
+
+“And you have friends sufficiently powerful at court to give you such proofs of their credit?”
+
+“It appears so.”
+
+“And may one ask the name of these friends?”
+
+“I did not say I had many friends, madame, I said I had one friend.”
+
+“And that friend is called?”
+
+“Peste! madame, you go too far! When one has a friend as powerful as mine, we do not publish his name in that fashion, in open day, in order that he may be stolen from us.”
+
+“You are right, monsieur, to be silent as to that name; for I think it would be pretty difficult for you to tell it.”
+
+“At all events,” said Montalais, “if the friend does not exist, the brevet does, and that cuts short the question.”
+
+“Then, I conceive,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, with the gracious smile of the cat who is going to scratch, “when I found monsieur here just now -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“He brought you the brevet.”
+
+“Exactly, madame; you have guessed rightly.”
+
+“Well, then, nothing can be more moral or proper.”
+
+“I think so, madame.”
+
+“And I have been wrong, as it appears, in reproaching you, mademoiselle.”
+
+“Very wrong, madame; but I am so accustomed to your reproaches, that I pardon you these.”
+
+“In that case, let us begone, Louise; we have nothing to do but retire. Well!”
+
+“Madame!” said La Valliere starting, “did you speak?”
+
+“You do not appear to be listening, my child.”
+
+“No, madame, I was thinking.”
+
+“About what?”
+
+“A thousand things.”
+
+“You bear me no ill-will, at least, Louise?” cried Montalais, pressing her hand.
+
+“And why should I, my dear Aure?” replied the girl in a voice soft as a flute.
+
+“Dame!” resumed Madame de Saint-Remy; “if she did bear you a little ill-will, poor girl, she could not be much blamed.”
+
+“And why should she bear me ill-will, good gracious?”
+
+“It appears to me that she is of as good a family, and as pretty as you.”
+
+“Mother! mother!” cried Louise.
+
+“Prettier a hundred times, madame -- not of a better family; but that does not tell me why Louise should bear me ill-will.”
+
+“Do you think it will be very amusing for her to be buried alive at Blois, when you are going to shine at Paris?”
+
+“But, madame, it is not I who prevent Louise following me thither; on the contrary, I should certainly be most happy if she came there.”
+
+“But it appears that M. Malicorne, who is all-powerful at court -- ”
+
+“Ah! so much the worse, madame,” said Malicorne, “every one for himself in this poor world.”
+
+“Malicorne! Malicorne!” said Montalais. Then stooping towards the young man: -- 
+
+“Occupy Madame de Saint-Remy, either in disputing with her, or making it up with her; I must speak to Louise.” And, at the same time, a soft pressure of the hand recompensed Malicorne for his future obedience. Malicorne went grumbling towards Madame de Saint-Remy, whilst Montalais said to her friend, throwing one arm around her neck: -- 
+
+“What is the matter? Tell me. Is it true that you would not love me if I were to shine, as your mother says?”
+
+“Oh, no!” said the young girl, with difficulty restraining her tears; “on the contrary, I rejoice at your good fortune.”
+
+“Rejoice! why, one would say you are ready to cry!”
+
+“Do people never weep except from envy?”
+
+“Oh! yes, I understand; I am going to Paris and that word Paris recalls to your mind a certain cavalier -- ”
+
+“Aure!”
+
+“A certain cavalier who formerly lived near Blois, and who now resides at Paris.”
+
+“In truth, I know not what ails me, but I feel stifled.”
+
+“Weep, then, weep, as you cannot give me a smile!”
+
+Louise raised her sweet face, which the tears, rolling down one after the other, illumined like diamonds.
+
+“Come, confess,” said Montalais.
+
+“What shall I confess?”
+
+“What makes you weep; people don’t weep without cause. I am your friend; whatever you would wish me to do, I will do. Malicorne is more powerful than you would think. Do you wish to go to Paris?”
+
+“Alas!” sighed Louise.
+
+“Do you wish to come to Paris?”
+
+“To remain here alone, in this old castle, I who have enjoyed the delightful habit of listening to your songs, of pressing your hand, of running about the park with you. Oh! how I shall be ennuyee! how quickly I shall die!”
+
+“Do you wish to come to Paris?”
+
+Louise breathed another sigh.
+
+“You do not answer me.”
+
+“What would you that I should reply?”
+
+“Yes or no; that is not very difficult, I think.”
+
+“Oh! you are very fortunate, Montalais!”
+
+“That is to say you would like to be in my place.”
+
+Louise was silent.
+
+“Little obstinate thing!” said Montalais; “did ever any one keep her secrets from her friend thus? But, confess that you would like to come to Paris; confess that you are dying with the wish to see Raoul again.”
+
+“I cannot confess that.”
+
+“Then you are wrong.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Because -- do you not see this brevet?”
+
+“To be sure I do.”
+
+“Well, I would have got you a similar one.”
+
+“By whose means?”
+
+“Malicorne’s.”
+
+“Aure, are you telling the truth? Is that possible?”
+
+“Malicorne is there; and what he has done for me, he surely can do for you.”
+
+Malicorne had heard his name pronounced twice; he was delighted at having an opportunity of coming to a conclusion with Madame de Saint-Remy, and he turned round: -- 
+
+“What is the question, mademoiselle?”
+
+“Come hither, Malicorne,” said Montalais, with an imperious gesture. Malicorne obeyed.
+
+“A brevet like this,” said Montalais.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“A brevet like this; that is plain enough.”
+
+“But -- ”
+
+“I want one -- I must have one!”
+
+“Oh! oh! you must have one!”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It is impossible, is it not, M. Malicorne?” said Louise, with her sweet, soft voice.
+
+“If it is for you, mademoiselle -- ”
+
+“For me. Yes, Monsieur Malicorne, it would be for me.”
+
+“And if Mademoiselle de Montalais asks it at the same time -- ”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Montalais does not ask it, she requires it.”
+
+“Well! we will endeavor to obey you, mademoiselle.”
+
+“And you will have her named?”
+
+“We will try.”
+
+“No evasive answers, Louise de la Valliere shall be maid of honor to Madame Henrietta within a week.”
+
+“How you talk!”
+
+“Within a week, or else -- ”
+
+“Well! or else?”
+
+“You may take back your brevet, Monsieur Malicorne; I will not leave my friend.”
+
+“Dear Montalais!”
+
+“That is right. Keep your brevet; Mademoiselle de la Valliere shall be a maid of honor.”
+
+“Is that true?”
+
+“Quite true.”
+
+“I may then hope to go to Paris?”
+
+“Depend on it.”
+
+“Oh! Monsieur Malicorne, what joy!” cried Louise, clapping her hands, and bounding with pleasure.
+
+“Little dissembler!” said Montalais, “try again to make me believe you are not in love with Raoul.”
+
+Louise blushed like a rose in June, but instead of replying, she ran and embraced her mother. “Madame,” said she, “do you know that M. Malicorne is going to have me appointed maid of honor?”
+
+“M. Malicorne is a prince in disguise,” replied the old lady, “he is all-powerful, seemingly.”
+
+“Should you also like to be a maid of honor?” asked Malicorne of Madame de Saint-Remy. “Whilst I am about it, I might as well get everybody appointed.”
+
+And upon that he went away, leaving the poor lady quite disconcerted.
+
+“Humph!” murmured Malicorne as he descended the stairs, -- “Humph! there goes another note of a thousand livres! but I must get through as well as I can; my friend Manicamp does nothing for nothing.”
+
+Chapter IV. Malicorne and Manicamp.
+
+The introduction of these two new personages into this history and that mysterious affinity of names and sentiments, merit some attention on the part of both historian and reader. We will then enter into some details concerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne, we know, had made the journey to Orleans in search of the brevet destined for Mademoiselle de Montalais, the arrival of which had produced such a strong feeling at the castle of Blois. At that moment, M. de Manicamp was at Orleans. A singular person was this M. de Manicamp; a very intelligent young fellow, always poor, always needy, although he dipped his hand freely into the purse of M. le Comte de Guiche, one of the best furnished purses of the period. M. le Comte de Guiche had had, as the companion of his boyhood, this De Manicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-born, of the house of Gramont. M. de Manicamp, with his tact and talent had created himself a revenue in the opulent family of the celebrated marechal. From his infancy he had, with calculation beyond his age, lent his mane and complaisance to the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his noble companion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame la Marechale, if he had broken a mirror, or put out a dog’s eye, Manicamp declared himself guilty of the crime committed, and received the punishment, which was not made the milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the way this system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearing such mean habiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled him to, he was able to appear brilliant, superb, like a young noble of fifty thousand livres a year. It was not that he was mean in character or humble in spirit; no, he was a philosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy, the obstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of the supernatural. His sole ambition was to spend money. But, in this respect, the worthy M. de Manicamp was a gulf. Three or four times every year he drained the Comte de Guiche, and when the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when he had turned out his pockets and his purse before him, when he declared that it would be at least a fortnight before paternal munificence would refill those pockets and that purse, Manicamp lost all his energy, he went to bed, remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes, under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not want them. During this prostration of mind and strength, the purse of the Comte de Guiche was getting full again, and when once filled, overflowed into that of De Manicamp, who bought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommenced the same life he had followed before. The mania of selling his new clothes for a quarter of what they were worth, had rendered our hero sufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a city where, in general, we should be puzzled to say why he came to pass his days of penitence. Provincial debauches, petits-maitres of six hundred livres a year, shared the fragments of his opulence.
+
+Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friend Malicorne was conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of the city, of whom M. de Conde, always needy as a De Conde, often borrowed money at enormous interest. M. Malicorne kept the paternal money-chest; that is to say, that in those times of easy morals, he had made for himself, by following the example of his father, and lending at high interest for short terms, a revenue of eighteen hundred livres, without reckoning six hundred livres furnished by the generosity of the syndic; so that Malicorne was the king of the gay youth of Orleans, having two thousand four hundred livres to scatter, squander, and waste on follies of every kind. But, quite contrary to Manicamp, Malicorne was terribly ambitious. He loved from ambition; he spent money out of ambition; and he would have ruined himself for ambition. Malicorne had determined to rise, at whatever price it might cost, and for this, whatever price it did cost, he had given himself a mistress and a friend. The mistress, Mademoiselle de Montalais, was cruel, as regarded love; but she was of a noble family, and that was sufficient for Malicorne. The friend had little or no friendship, but he was the favorite of the Comte de Guiche, himself the friend of Monsieur, the king’s brother; and that was sufficient for Malicorne. Only, in the chapter of charges, Mademoiselle de Montalais cost per annum: -- ribbons, gloves, and sweets, a thousand livres. De Manicamp cost -- money lent, never returned -- from twelve to fifteen hundred livres per annum. So that there was nothing left for Malicorne. Ah! yes, we are mistaken; there was left the paternal strong box. He employed a mode of proceeding, upon which he preserved the most profound secrecy, and which consisted in advancing to himself, from the coffers of the syndic, half a dozen year’s profits, that is to say, fifteen thousand livres, swearing to himself -- observe, quite to himself -- to repay this deficiency as soon as an opportunity should present itself. The opportunity was expected to be the concession of a good post in the household of Monsieur, when that household would be established at the period of his marriage. This juncture had arrived, and the household was about to be established. A good post in the family of a prince of the blood, when it is given by the credit, and on the recommendation of a friend, like the Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelve thousand livres per annum; and by the means which M. Malicorne had taken to make his revenues fructify, twelve thousand livres might rise to twenty thousand. Then, when once an incumbent of this post, he would marry Mademoiselle de Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noble family, not only would be dowered, but would ennoble Malicorne. But, in order that Mademoiselle de Montalais, who had not a large patrimonial fortune, although an only daughter, should be suitably dowered, it was necessary that she should belong to some great princess, as prodigal as the dowager Madame was covetous. And in order that the wife should not be of one party whilst the husband belonged to the other, a situation which presents serious inconveniences, particularly with characters like those of the future consorts -- Malicorne had imagined the idea of making the central point of union the household of Monsieur, the king’s brother. Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maid of honor to Madame. M. Malicorne would be officer to Monsieur.
+
+It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it is plain, also, that it had been bravely executed. Malicorne had asked Manicamp to ask a brevet of maid of honor of the Comte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guiche had asked this brevet of Monsieur, who had signed it without hesitation. The constructive plan of Malicorne -- for we may well suppose that the combinations of a mind as active as his were not confined to the present, but extended to the future -- the constructive plan of Malicorne, we say, was this: -- To obtain entrance into the household of Madame Henrietta for a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young, handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman, all the feminine secrets of the young household; whilst he, Malicorne, and his friend Manicamp, should, between them, know all the male secrets of the young community. It was by these means that a rapid and splendid fortune might be acquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vile name; he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truth from himself; but an estate might be purchased; and Malicorne of some place, or even De Malicorne itself, for short, would ring more nobly on the ear.
+
+It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin might be hunted up by the heralds for this name of Malicorne; might it not come from some estate where a bull with mortal horns had caused some great misfortune, and baptized the soil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this plan presented itself bristling with difficulties: but the greatest of all was Mademoiselle de Montalais herself. Capricious, variable, close, giddy, free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained with grapes, she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her white fingers, or with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice which had exhausted Malicorne’s patience for a month.
+
+Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which he could not help feeling, he had the strength to conceal with care; persuaded that at the least relaxing of the ties by which he had bound his Protean female, the demon would overthrow and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress by disdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced to tempt him, he had the art to appear ice, persuaded that if he opened his arms, she would run away laughing at him. On her side, Montalais believed she did not love Malicorne; whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did. Malicorne repeated to her so often his protestation of indifference, that she finished, sometimes, by believing him; and then she believed she detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring him back by coquetry, Malicorne played the coquette better than she could. But what made Montalais hold to Malicorne in an indissoluble fashion, was that Malicorne always came cram full of fresh news from the court and the city; Malicorne always brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or a perfume; that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on the contrary, required to be supplicated to receive the favors he burned to obtain. On her side, Montalais was no miser with stories. By her means, Malicorne learnt all that passed at Blois, in the family of the dowager Madame; and he related to Manicamp tales that made him ready to die with laughing, which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. de Guiche, who carried them to Monsieur.
+
+Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests and petty conspiracies which united Blois with Orleans, and Orleans with Pairs; and which was about to bring into the last named city where she was to produce so great a revolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was far from suspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm of her mother, for what a strange future she was reserved. As to the good man, Malicorne -- we speak of the syndic of Orleans -- he did not see more clearly into the present than others did into the future; and had no suspicion as he walked, every day, between three and five o’clock, after his dinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat, cut after the fashion of Louis XIII. and his cloth shoes with great knots of ribbon, that it was he who was paying for all those bursts of laughter, all those stolen kisses, all those whisperings, all those little keepsakes, and all those bubble projects which formed a chain of forty-five leagues in length, from the palais of Blois to the Palais Royal.
+
+Chapter V: Manicamp and Malicorne.
+
+Malicorne, then, left Blois, as we have said, and went to find his friend, Manicamp, then in temporary retreat in the city of Orleans. It was just at the moment when that young nobleman was employed in selling the last decent clothing he had left. He had, a fortnight before, extorted from the Comte de Guiche a hundred pistoles, all he had, to assist in equipping him properly to go and meet Madame, on her arrival at Le Havre. He had drawn from Malicorne, three days before, fifty pistoles, the price of the brevet obtained for Montalais. He had then no expectation of anything else, having exhausted all his resources, with the exception of selling a handsome suit of cloth and satin, embroidered and laced with gold, which had been the admiration of the court. But to be able to sell this suit, the last he had left, -- as we have been forced to confess to the reader -- Manicamp had been obliged to take to his bed. No more fire, no more pocket-money, no more walking-money, nothing but sleep to take the place of repasts, companies and balls. It has been said -- “He who sleeps, dines;” but it has never been affirmed -- He who sleeps, plays -- or, He who sleeps, dances. Manicamp, reduced to this extremity of neither playing nor dancing, for a week at least, was, consequently, very sad; he was expecting a usurer, and saw Malicorne enter. A cry of distress escaped him.
+
+“Eh! what!” said he, in a tone which nothing can describe, “is that you again, dear friend?”
+
+“Humph! you are very polite!” said Malicorne.
+
+“Ay, but look you, I was expecting money, and, instead of money, I see you.”
+
+“And suppose I brought you some money?”
+
+“Oh! that would be quite another thing. You are very welcome, my dear friend!”
+
+And he held out his hand, not for the hand of Malicorne, but for the purse. Malicorne pretended to be mistaken, and gave him his hand.
+
+“And the money?” said Manicamp.
+
+“My dear friend, if you wish to have it, earn it.”
+
+“What must be done for it?”
+
+“Earn it, parbleu!”
+
+“And after what fashion?”
+
+“Oh! that is rather trying, I warn you.”
+
+“The devil!”
+
+“You must get out of bed, and go immediately to M. le Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“I get up!” said Manicamp, stretching himself in his bed, complacently, “oh, no, thank you!”
+
+“You have sold all your clothes?”
+
+“No, I have one suit left, the handsomest even, but I expect a purchaser.”
+
+“And the chausses?”
+
+“Well, if you look, you will see them on that chair.”
+
+“Very well! since you have some chausses and a pourpoint left, put your legs into the first and your back into the other; have a horse saddled, and set off.”
+
+“Not I.”
+
+“And why not?”
+
+“Morbleu! don’t you know, then, that M. de Guiche is at Etampes?”
+
+“No, I thought he was at Paris. You will then only have fifteen leagues to go, instead of thirty.”
+
+“You are a wonderfully clever fellow! If I were to ride fifteen leagues in these clothes, they would never be fit to put on again; and, instead of selling them for thirty pistoles, I should be obliged to take fifteen.”
+
+“Sell them for whatever you like, but I must have a second commission of maid of honor.”
+
+“Good! for whom? Is Montalais doubled, then?”
+
+“Vile fellow! -- It is you who are doubled. You swallow up two fortunes -- mine, and that of M. le Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“You should say, that of M. le Comte de Guiche and yours.”
+
+“That is true; honor where it is due; but I return to my brevet.”
+
+“And you are wrong.”
+
+“Prove me that.”
+
+“My friend, there will only be twelve maids of honor for madame; I have already obtained for you what twelve hundred women are trying for, and for that I was forced to employ all my diplomacy.”
+
+“Oh! yes, I know you have been quite heroic, my dear friend.”
+
+“We know what we are about,” said Manicamp.
+
+“To whom do you tell that? When I am king, I promise you one thing.”
+
+“What? To call yourself Malicorne the First?”
+
+“No; to make you superintendent of my finances; but that is not the question now.”
+
+“Unfortunately.”
+
+“The present affair is to procure for me a second place of maid of honor.”
+
+“My friend, if you were to promise me the price of heaven, I would decline to disturb myself at this moment.”
+
+Malicorne chinked the money in his pocket.
+
+“There are twenty pistoles here,” said Malicorne.
+
+“And what would you do with twenty pistoles, mon Dieu!”
+
+“Well!” said Malicorne, a little angry, “suppose I were to add them to the five hundred you already owe me?”
+
+“You are right,” replied Manicamp, stretching out his hand again, “and from that point of view I can accept them. Give them to me.”
+
+“An instant, what the devil! it is not only holding out your hand that will do; if I give you the twenty pistoles, shall I have my brevet?”
+
+“To be sure you shall.”
+
+“Soon?”
+
+“To-day.”
+
+“Oh! take care! Monsieur de Manicamp; you undertake much, and I do not ask that. Thirty leagues in a day is too much, you would kill yourself.”
+
+“I think nothing impossible when obliging a friend.”
+
+“You are quite heroic.”
+
+“Where are the twenty pistoles?”
+
+“Here they are,” said Malicorne, showing them.
+
+“That’s well.”
+
+“Yes, but my dear M. Manicamp, you would consume them in post-horses alone!”
+
+“No, no, make yourself easy on that score.”
+
+“Pardon me. Why, it is fifteen leagues from this place to Etampes?”
+
+“Fourteen.”
+
+“Well! fourteen be it; fourteen leagues makes seven posts; at twenty sous the post, seven livres; seven livres the courier, fourteen; as many for coming back, twenty-eight! as much for bed and supper, that makes sixty livres this complaisance would cost.”
+
+Manicamp stretched himself like a serpent in his bed, and fixing his two great eyes upon Malicorne, “You are right,” said he; “I could not return before to-morrow;” and he took the twenty pistoles.
+
+“Now, then, be off!”
+
+“Well, as I cannot be back before to-morrow, we have time.”
+
+“Time for what?”
+
+“Time to play.”
+
+“What do you wish to play with?”
+
+“Your twenty pistoles, pardieu!”
+
+“No; you always win.”
+
+“I will wager them, then.”
+
+“Against what?”
+
+“Against twenty others.”
+
+“And what shall be the object of the wager?”
+
+“This. We have said it was fourteen leagues to Etampes.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And fourteen leagues back?”
+
+“Doubtless.”
+
+“Well; for these twenty-eight leagues you cannot allow less than fourteen hours?”
+
+“That is agreed.”
+
+“One hour to find the Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“Go on.”
+
+“And an hour to persuade him to write a letter to Monsieur.”
+
+“Just so.”
+
+“Sixteen hours in all?”
+
+“You reckon as well as M. Colbert.”
+
+“It is now twelve o’clock.”
+
+“Half-past.”
+
+“Hein! -- you have a handsome watch!”
+
+“What were you saying?” said Malicorne, putting his watch quickly back into his fob.
+
+“Ah! true; I was offering to lay you twenty pistoles against these you have lent me, that you will have the Comte de Guiche’s letter in -- ”
+
+“How soon?”
+
+“In eight hours.”
+
+“Have you a winged horse, then?”
+
+“That is no matter. Will you bet?”
+
+“I shall have the comte’s letter in eight hours?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“In hand?”
+
+“In hand.”
+
+“Well, be it so; I lay,” said Malicorne, curious enough to know how this seller of clothes would get through.
+
+“Is it agreed?”
+
+“It is.”
+
+“Pass me the pen, ink, and paper.”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Manicamp raised himself with a sigh, and leaning on his left elbow, in his best hand, traced the following lines: -- 
+
+“Good for an order for a place of maid of honor to Madame, which M. le Comte de Guiche will take upon him to obtain at sight. DE MANICAMP.”
+
+This painful task accomplished, he laid himself down in bed again.
+
+“Well!” asked Malicorne, “what does this mean?”
+
+“That means that if you are in a hurry to have the letter from the Comte de Guiche for Monsieur, I have won my wager.”
+
+“How the devil is that?”
+
+“That is transparent enough, I think; you take that paper.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“And you set out instead of me.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“You put your horses to their best speed.”
+
+“Good!”
+
+“In six hours you will be at Etampes; in seven hours you have the letter from the comte, and I shall have won my wager without stirring from my bed, which suits me and you too, at the same time, I am very sure.”
+
+“Decidedly, Manicamp, you are a great man.”
+
+“Hein! I know that.”
+
+“I am to start then for Etampes?”
+
+“Directly.”
+
+“I am to go to the Comte de Guiche with this order?”
+
+“He will give you a similar one for Monsieur.”
+
+“Monsieur will approve?”
+
+“Instantly.”
+
+“And I shall have my brevet?”
+
+“You will.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Well, I hope I behave genteely?”
+
+“Adorably.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“You do as you please, then, with the Comte de Guiche, Manicamp?”
+
+“Except making money of him -- everything?”
+
+“Diable! the exception is annoying; but then, if instead of asking him for money, you were to ask -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Something important.”
+
+“What do you call important?”
+
+“Well! suppose one of your friends asked you to render him a service?”
+
+“I would not render it to him.”
+
+“Selfish fellow!”
+
+“Or at least I would ask him what service he would render me in exchange.”
+
+“Ah! that, perhaps, is fair. Well, that friend speaks to you.”
+
+“What, you, Malicorne?”
+
+“Yes; I.”
+
+“Ah! ah! you are rich, then?”
+
+“I have still fifty pistoles left.”
+
+“Exactly the sum I want. Where are those fifty pistoles?”
+
+“Here,” said Malicorne, slapping his pocket.
+
+“Then speak, my friend; what do you want?”
+
+Malicorne took up the pen, ink, and paper again, and presented them all to Manicamp. “Write!” said he.
+
+“Dictate!”
+
+“An order for a place in the household of Monsieur.”
+
+“Oh!” said Manicamp, laying down the pen, “a place in the household of Monsieur for fifty pistoles?”
+
+“You mistook me, my friend; you did not hear plainly.”
+
+“What did you say, then?”
+
+“I said five hundred.”
+
+“And the five hundred?”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+Manicamp devoured the rouleau with his eyes; but this time Malicorne held it at a distance.
+
+“Eh! what do you say to that? Five hundred pistoles.”
+
+“I say it is for nothing, my friend,” said Manicamp, taking up the pen again, “and you exhaust my credit. Dictate.”
+
+Malicorne continued:
+
+“Which my friend the Comte de Guiche will obtain for my friend Malicorne.”
+
+“That’s it,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Pardon me, you have forgotten to sign.”
+
+“Ah! that is true. The five hundred pistoles?”
+
+“Here are two hundred and fifty of them.”
+
+“And the other two hundred and fifty?”
+
+“When I am in possession of my place.”
+
+Manicamp made a face.
+
+“In that case give me the recommendation back again.”
+
+“What to do?”
+
+“To add two words to it.”
+
+“Two words?”
+
+“Yes; two words only.”
+
+“What are they?”
+
+“In haste.”
+
+Malicorne returned the recommendation; Manicamp added the words.
+
+“Good,” said Malicorne, taking back the paper.
+
+Manicamp began to count out the pistoles.
+
+“There want twenty,” said he.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“The twenty I have won.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“By laying that you would have the letter from the Comte de Guiche in eight hours.”
+
+“Ah! that’s fair,” and he gave him the twenty pistoles.
+
+Manicamp began to scoop up his gold by handfuls, and pour it in cascades upon his bed.
+
+“This second place,” murmured Malicorne, whilst drying his paper, “which, at first glance appears to cost me more than the first, but -- ” He stopped, took up the pen in his turn, and wrote to Montalais: -- 
+
+“MADEMOISELLE, -- Announce to your friend that her commission will not be long before it arrives; I am setting out to get it signed: that will be twenty-eight leagues I shall have gone for the love of you.”
+
+Then with his sardonic smile, taking up the interrupted sentence: -- “This place,” said he, “at first glance, appears to have cost more than the first; but -- the benefit will be, I hope, in proportion with the expense, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere will bring me back more than Mademoiselle de Montalais, or else, -- or else my name is not Malicorne. Farewell, Manicamp,” and he left the room.
+
+Chapter VI. The Courtyard of the Hotel Grammont.
+
+On Malicorne’s arrival at Orleans, he was informed that the Comte de Guiche had just set out for Paris. Malicorne rested himself for a couple of hours, and then prepared to continue his journey. He reached Paris during the night, and alighted at a small hotel, where, in his previous journeys to the capital, he had been accustomed to put up, and at eight o’clock the next morning presented himself at the Hotel Grammont. Malicorne arrived just in time, for the Comte de Guiche was on the point of taking leave of Monsieur before setting out for Le Havre, where the principal members of the French nobility had gone to await Madame’s arrival from England. Malicorne pronounced the name of Manicamp, and was immediately admitted. He found the Comte de Guiche in the courtyard of the Hotel Grammont, inspecting his horses, which his trainers and equerries were passing in review before him. The count, in the presence of his tradespeople and of his servants, was engaged in praising or blaming, as the case seemed to deserve, the appointments, horses, and harness that were being submitted to him; when, in the midst of this important occupation, the name of Manicamp was announced.
+
+“Manicamp!” he exclaimed; “let him enter by all means.” And he advanced a few steps toward the door.
+
+Malicorne slipped through the half-open door, and looking at the Comte de Guiche, who was surprised to see a face he did not recognize, instead of the one he expected, said: “Forgive me, monsieur le comte, but I believe a mistake has been made. M. Manicamp himself was announced to you, instead of which it is only an envoy from him.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed De Guiche, coldly; “and what do you bring me?”
+
+“A letter, monsieur le comte.” Malicorne handed him the first document, and narrowly watched the count’s face, who, as he read it, began to laugh.
+
+“What!” he exclaimed, “another maid of honor? Are all the maids of honor in France, then, under his protection?”
+
+Malicorne bowed.
+
+“Why does he not come himself?” he inquired.
+
+“He is confined to his bed.”
+
+“The deuce! he has no money then, I suppose,” said De Guiche, shrugging his shoulders. “What does he do with his money?”
+
+Malicorne made a movement, to indicate that upon this subject he was as ignorant as the count himself. “Why does he not make use of his credit, then?” continued De Guiche.
+
+“With regard to that, I think -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“That Manicamp has credit with no one but yourself, monsieur le comte!”
+
+“He will not be at Le Havre, then?” Whereupon Malicorne made another movement.
+
+“But every one will be there.”
+
+“I trust, monsieur le comte, that he will not neglect so excellent an opportunity.”
+
+“He should be at Paris by this time.”
+
+“He will take the direct road perhaps to make up for lost time.”
+
+“Where is he now?”
+
+“At Orleans.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said De Guiche, “you seem to me a man of very good taste.”
+
+Malicorne was wearing some of Manicamp’s old-new clothes. He bowed in return, saying, “You do me a very great honor, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?”
+
+“My name is Malicorne, monsieur.”
+
+“M. de Malicorne, what do you think of these pistol-holsters?”
+
+Malicorne was a man of great readiness and immediately understood the position of affairs. Besides, the “de” which had been prefixed to his name, raised him to the rank of the person with whom he was conversing. He looked at the holsters with the air of a connoisseur and said, without hesitation: “Somewhat heavy, monsieur.”
+
+“You see,” said De Guiche to the saddler, “this gentleman, who understands these matters well, thinks the holsters heavy, a complaint I had already made.” The saddler was full of excuses.
+
+“What do you think,” asked De Guiche, “of this horse, which I have just purchased?”
+
+“To look at it, it seems perfect, monsieur le comte; but I must mount it before I give you my opinion.”
+
+“Do so, M. de Malicorne, and ride him round the court two or three times.”
+
+The courtyard of the hotel was so arranged, that whenever there was any occasion for it, it could be used as a riding-school. Malicorne, with perfect ease, arranged the bridle and snaffle-reins, placed his left hand on the horse’s mane, and, with his foot in the stirrup, raised himself and seated himself in the saddle. At first, he made the horse walk the whole circuit of the court-yard at a foot-pace; next at a trot; lastly at a gallop. He then drew up close to the count, dismounted, and threw the bridle to a groom standing by. “Well,” said the count, “what do you think of it, M. de Malicorne?”
+
+“This horse, monsieur le comte, is of the Mecklenburg breed. In looking whether the bit suited his mouth, I saw that he was rising seven, the very age when the training of a horse intended for a charger should commence. The forehand is light. A horse which holds its head high, it is said, never tires his rider’s hand. The withers are rather low. The drooping of the hind-quarters would almost make me doubt the purity of its German breed, and I think there is English blood in him. He stands well on his legs, but he trots high, and may cut himself, which requires attention to be paid to his shoeing. He is tractable; and as I made him turn round and change his feet, I found him quick and ready in doing so.”
+
+“Well said, M. de Malicorne,” exclaimed the comte; “you are a judge of horses, I perceive;” then, turning towards him again, he continued, “you are most becomingly dressed, M. de Malicorne. That is not a provincial cut, I presume. Such a style of dress is not to be met with at Tours or Orleans.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte; my clothes were made at Paris.”
+
+“There is no doubt about that. But let us resume our own affair. Manicamp wishes for the appointment of a second maid of honor.”
+
+“You perceive what he has written, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“For whom was the first appointment?”
+
+Malicorne felt the color rise in his face as he answered hurriedly.
+
+“A charming maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Ah, ah! you are acquainted with her?”
+
+“We are affianced, or nearly so.”
+
+“That is quite another thing, then; a thousand compliments,” exclaimed De Guiche, upon whose lips a courtier’s jest was already fitting, but to whom the word “affianced,” addressed by Malicorne with respect to Mademoiselle de Montalais, recalled the respect due to women.
+
+“And for whom is the second appointment destined?” asked De Guiche; “is it for anyone to whom Manicamp may happen to be affianced? In that case I pity her, poor girl! for she will have a sad fellow for a husband.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte; the second appointment is for Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere.”
+
+“Unknown,” said De Guiche.
+
+“Unknown? yes, monsieur,” said Malicorne, smiling in his turn.
+
+“Very good. I will speak to Monsieur about it. By the by, she is of gentle birth?”
+
+“She belongs to a very good family and is maid of honor to Madame.”
+
+“That’s well. Will you accompany me to Monsieur?”
+
+“Most certainly, if I may be permitted the honor.”
+
+“Have you your carriage?”
+
+“No; I came here on horseback.”
+
+“Dressed as you are?”
+
+“No, monsieur; I posted from Orleans, and I changed my traveling suit for the one I have on, in order to present myself to you.”
+
+“True, you already told me you had come from Orleans;” saying which he crumpled Manicamp’s letter in his hand, and thrust it in his pocket.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” said Malicorne, timidly; “but I do not think you have read all.”
+
+“Not read all, do you say?”
+
+“No; there were two letters in the same envelope.”
+
+“Oh! are you sure?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“Let us look, then,” said the count, as he opened the letter again.
+
+“Ah! you are right,” he said opening the paper which he had not yet read.
+
+“I suspected it,” he continued -- “another application for an appointment under Monsieur. This Manicamp is a regular vampire: -- he is carrying on a trade in it.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte, he wishes to make a present of it.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“To myself, monsieur.”
+
+“Why did you not say so at once, my dear M. Mauvaisecorne?”
+
+“Malicorne, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“Forgive me; it is that Latin that bothers me -- that terrible mine of etymologies. Why the deuce are young men of family taught Latin? Mala and mauvaise -- you understand it is the same thing. You will forgive me, I trust, M. de Malicorne.”
+
+“Your kindness affects me much, monsieur: but it is a reason why I should make you acquainted with one circumstance without any delay.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That I was not born a gentleman. I am not without courage, and not altogether deficient in ability; but my name is Malicorne simply.”
+
+“You appear to me, monsieur!” exclaimed the count, looking at the astute face of his companion, “to be a most agreeable man. Your face pleases me, M. Malicorne, and you must possess some indisputably excellent qualities to have pleased that egotistical Manicamp. Be candid and tell me whether you are not some saint descended upon the earth.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“For the simple reason that he makes you a present of anything. Did you not say that he intended to make you a present of some appointment in the king’s household?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, count; but, if I succeed in obtaining the appointment, you, and not he, will have bestowed it on me.”
+
+“Besides he will not have given it to you for nothing, I suppose. Stay, I have it; -- there is a Malicorne at Orleans who lends money to the prince.”
+
+“I think that must be my father, monsieur.”
+
+“Ah! the prince has the father, and that terrible dragon of a Manicamp has the son. Take care, monsieur, I know him. He will fleece you completely.”
+
+“The only difference is, that I lend without interest,” said Malicorne, smiling.
+
+“I was correct in saying you were either a saint or very much resembled one. M. Malicorne, you shall have the post you want, or I will forfeit my name.”
+
+“Ah! monsieur le comte, what a debt of gratitude shall I not owe you?” said Malicorne, transported.
+
+“Let us go to the prince, my dear M. Malicorne.” And De Guiche proceeded toward the door, desiring Malicorne to follow him. At the very moment they were about to cross the threshold, a young man appeared on the other side. He was from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, of pale complexion, bright eyes and brown hair and eyebrows. “Good-day,” said he, suddenly, almost pushing De Guiche back into the courtyard again.
+
+“Is that you, De Wardes? -- What! and booted, spurred and whip in hand, too?”
+
+“The most befitting costume for a man about to set off for Le Havre. There will be no one left in Paris to-morrow.” And hereupon he saluted Malicorne with great ceremony, whose handsome dress gave him the appearance of a prince.
+
+“M. Malicorne,” said De Guiche to his friend. De Wardes bowed.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” said Guiche to Malicorne, who bowed in return. “By the by, De Wardes,” continued De Guiche, “you who are so well acquainted with these matters, can you tell us, probably, what appointments are still vacant at the court; or rather in the prince’s household?”
+
+“In the prince’s household,” said De Wardes looking up with an air of consideration, “let me see -- the appointment of the master of the horse is vacant, I believe.”
+
+“Oh,” said Malicorne, “there is no question of such a post as that, monsieur; my ambition is not nearly so exalted.”
+
+De Wardes had a more penetrating observation than De Guiche, and fathomed Malicorne immediately. “The fact is,” he said, looking at him from head to foot, “a man must be either a duke or a peer to fill that post.”
+
+“All I solicit,” said Malicorne, “is a very humble appointment; I am of little importance, and I do not rank myself above my position.”
+
+“M. Malicorne, whom you see here,” said De Guiche to De Wardes, “is a very excellent fellow, whose only misfortune is that of not being of gentle birth. As far as I am concerned, you know, I attach little value to those who have but gentle birth to boast of.”
+
+“Assuredly,” said De Wardes; “but will you allow me to remark, my dear count, that, without rank of some sort, one can hardly hope to belong to his royal highness’s household?”
+
+“You are right,” said the count, “court etiquette is absolute. The devil! -- we never so much as gave it a thought.”
+
+“Alas! a sad misfortune for me, monsieur le comte,” said Malicorne, changing color.
+
+“Yet not without remedy, I hope,” returned De Guiche.
+
+“The remedy is found easily enough,” exclaimed De Wardes; “you can be created a gentleman. His Eminence, the Cardinal Mazarin, did nothing else from morning till night.”
+
+“Hush, hush, De Wardes,” said the count; “no jests of that kind; it ill becomes us to turn such matters into ridicule. Letters of nobility, it is true, are purchasable; but that is a sufficient misfortune without the nobles themselves laughing at it.”
+
+“Upon my word, De Guiche, you’re quite a Puritan, as the English say.”
+
+At this moment the Vicomte de Bragelonne was announced by one of the servants in the courtyard, in precisely the same manner as he would have done in a room.
+
+“Come here, my dear Raoul. What! you, too, booted and spurred? You are setting off, then?”
+
+Bragelonne approached the group of young men, and saluted them with that quiet and serious manner peculiar to him. His salutation was principally addressed to De Wardes, with whom he was unacquainted, and whose features, on his perceiving Raoul, had assumed a strange sternness of expression. “I have come, De Guiche,” he said, “to ask your companionship. We set off for Le Havre, I presume.”
+
+“This is admirable -- delightful. We shall have a most enjoyable journey. M. Malicorne, M. Bragelonne -- ah! M. de Wardes, let me present you.” The young men saluted each other in a restrained manner. Their very natures seemed, from the beginning, disposed to take exception to each other. De Wardes was pliant, subtle, full of dissimulation; Raoul was calm, grave, and upright. “Decide between us -- between De Wardes and myself, Raoul.”
+
+“Upon what subject?”
+
+“Upon the subject of noble birth.”
+
+“Who can be better informed on that subject than a De Gramont?”
+
+“No compliments; it is your opinion I ask.”
+
+“At least, inform me of the subject under discussion.”
+
+“De Wardes asserts that the distribution of titles is abused; I, on the contrary, maintain that a title is useless to the man on whom it is bestowed.”
+
+“And you are correct,” said Bragelonne, quietly.
+
+“But, monsieur le vicomte,” interrupted De Wardes, with a kind of obstinacy, “I affirm that it is I who am correct.”
+
+“What was your opinion, monsieur?”
+
+“I was saying that everything is done in France at the present moment, to humiliate men of family.”
+
+“And by whom?”
+
+“By the king himself. He surrounds himself with people who cannot show four quarterings.”
+
+“Nonsense,” said De Guiche, “where could you possibly have seen that, De Wardes?”
+
+“One example will suffice,” he returned, directing his look fully upon Raoul.
+
+“State it then.”
+
+“Do you know who has just been nominated captain-general of the musketeers? -- an appointment more valuable than a peerage; for it gives precedence over all the marechals of France.”
+
+Raoul’s color mounted in his face; for he saw the object De Wardes had in view. “No; who has been appointed? In any case it must have been very recently, for the appointment was vacant eight days ago; a proof of which is, that the king refused Monsieur, who solicited the post for one of his proteges.”
+
+“Well, the king refused it to Monsieur’s protege, in order to bestow it upon the Chevalier d’Artagnan, a younger brother of some Gascon family, who has been trailing his sword in the ante-chambers during the last thirty years.”
+
+“Forgive me if I interrupt you,” said Raoul, darting a glance full of severity at De Wardes; “but you give me the impression of being unacquainted with the gentleman of whom you are speaking.”
+
+“I not acquainted with M. d’Artagnan? Can you tell me, monsieur, who does not know him?”
+
+“Those who do know him, monsieur,” replied Raoul, with still greater calmness and sternness of manner, “are in the habit of saying, that if he is not as good a gentleman as the king -- which is not his fault -- he is the equal of all the kings of the earth in courage and loyalty. Such is my opinion, monsieur; and I thank heaven I have known M. d’Artagnan from my birth.”
+
+De Wardes was about to reply, when De Guiche interrupted him.
+
+Chapter VII. The Portrait of Madame.
+
+The discussion was becoming full of bitterness. De Guiche perfectly understood the whole matter, for there was in Bragelonne’s face a look instinctively hostile, while in that of De Wardes there was something like a determination to offend. Without inquiring into the different feelings which actuated his two friends, De Guiche resolved to ward off the blow which he felt was on the point of being dealt by one of them, and perhaps by both. “Gentlemen,” he said, “we must take our leave of each other, I must pay a visit to Monsieur. You, De Wardes, will accompany me to the Louvre, and you, Raoul, will remain here master of the house; and as all that is done here is under your advice, you will bestow the last glance upon my preparations for departure.”
+
+Raoul, with the air of one who neither seeks nor fears a quarrel, bowed his head in token of assent, and seated himself upon a bench in the sun. “That is well,” said De Guiche, “remain where you are, Raoul, and tell them to show you the two horses I have just purchased; you will give me your opinion, for I only bought them on condition that you ratified the purchase. By the by, I have to beg your pardon for having omitted to inquire after the Comte de la Fere.” While pronouncing these latter words, he closely observed De Wardes, in order to perceive what effect the name of Raoul’s father would produce upon him. “I thank you,” answered the young man, “the count is very well.” A gleam of deep hatred passed into De Wardes’s eyes. De Guiche, who appeared not to notice the foreboding expression, went up to Raoul, and grasping him by the hand, said, -- “It is agreed, then, Bragelonne, is it not, that you will rejoin us in the courtyard of the Palais Royal?” He then signed to De Wardes to follow him, who had been engaged in balancing himself first on one foot, then on the other. “We are going,” said he, “come, M. Malicorne.” This name made Raoul start; for it seemed that he had already heard it pronounced before, but he could not remember on what occasion. While trying to recall it half-dreamily, yet half-irritated at his conversation with De Wardes, the three young men set out on their way towards the Palais Royal, where Monsieur was residing. Malicorne learned two things; the first, that the young men had something to say to each other; and the second, that he ought not to walk in the same line with them; and therefore he walked behind. “Are you mad?” said De Guiche to his companion, as soon as they had left the Hotel de Grammont; “you attack M. d’Artagnan, and that, too, before Raoul.”
+
+“Well,” said De Wardes, “what then?”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘what then?’”
+
+“Certainly, is there any prohibition against attacking M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“But you know very well that M. d’Artagnan was one of those celebrated and terrible four men who were called the musketeers.”
+
+“That they may be; but I do not perceive why, on that account, I should be forbidden to hate M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“What cause has he given you?”
+
+“Me! personally, none.”
+
+“Why hate him, therefore?”
+
+“Ask my dead father that question.”
+
+“Really, my dear De Wardes, you surprise me. M. d’Artagnan is not one to leave unsettled any enmity he may have to arrange, without completely clearing his account. Your father, I have heard, carried matters with a high hand. Moreover, there are no enmities so bitter that they cannot be washed away by blood, by a good sword-thrust loyally given.”
+
+“Listen to me, my dear De Guiche, this inveterate dislike existed between my father and M. d’Artagnan, and when I was quite a child, he acquainted me with the reason for it, and, as forming part of my inheritance, I regard it as a particular legacy bestowed upon me.”
+
+“And does this hatred concern M. d’Artagnan alone?”
+
+“As for that, M. d’Artagnan was so intimately associated with his three friends, that some portion of the full measure of my hatred falls to their lot, and that hatred is of such a nature, whenever the opportunity occurs, they shall have no occasion to complain of their allowance.”
+
+De Guiche had kept his eyes fixed on De Wardes, and shuddered at the bitter manner in which the young man smiled. Something like a presentiment flashed across his mind; he knew that the time had passed away for grands coups entre gentilshommes; but that the feeling of hatred treasured up in the mind, instead of being diffused abroad, was still hatred all the same; that a smile was sometimes as full of meaning as a threat; and, in a word, that to the fathers who had hated with their hearts and fought with their arms, would now succeed the sons, who would indeed hate with their hearts, but would no longer combat their enemies save by means of intrigue or treachery. As, therefore, it certainly was not Raoul whom he could suspect either of intrigue or treachery, it was on Raoul’s account that De Guiche trembled. However, while these gloomy forebodings cast a shade of anxiety over De Guiche’s countenance, De Wardes had resumed the entire mastery over himself.
+
+“At all events,” he observed, “I have no personal ill-will towards M. de Bragelonne; I do not know him even.”
+
+“In any case,” said De Guiche, with a certain amount of severity in his tone of voice, “do not forget one circumstance, that Raoul is my most intimate friend;” a remark at which De Wardes bowed.
+
+The conversation terminated there, although De Guiche tried his utmost to draw out his secret from him; but, doubtless, De Wardes had determined to say nothing further, and he remained impenetrable. De Guiche therefore promised himself a more satisfactory result with Raoul. In the meantime they had reached the Palais Royal, which was surrounded by a crowd of lookers-on. The household belonging to Monsieur awaited his command to mount their horses, in order to form part of the escort of the ambassadors, to whom had been intrusted the care of bringing the young princess to Paris. The brilliant display of horses, arms, and rich liveries, afforded some compensation in those times, thanks to the kindly feelings of the people, and to the traditions of deep devotion to their sovereigns, for the enormous expenses charged upon the taxes. Mazarin had said: “Let them sing, provided they pay;” while Louis XIV.’s remark was, “Let them look.” Sight had replaced the voice; the people could still look but they were no longer allowed to sing. De Guiche left De Wardes and Malicorne at the bottom of the grand staircase, while he himself, who shared the favor and good graces of Monsieur with the Chevalier de Lorraine, who always smiled at him most affectionately, though he could not endure him, went straight to the prince’s apartments, whom he found engaged in admiring himself in the glass, and rouging his face. In a corner of the cabinet, the Chevalier de Lorraine was extended full length upon some cushions, having just had his long hair curled, with which he was playing in the same manner a woman would have done. The prince turned round as the count entered, and perceiving who it was, said: “Ah! is that you, De Guiche; come here and tell me the truth.”
+
+“You know, my lord, it is one of my defects to speak the truth.”
+
+“You will hardly believe, De Guiche, how that wicked chevalier has annoyed me.”
+
+The chevalier shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Why, he pretends,” continued the prince, “that Mademoiselle Henrietta is better looking as a woman than I am as a man.”
+
+“Do not forget, my lord,” said De Guiche, frowning slightly, “you require me to speak the truth.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the prince, tremblingly.
+
+“Well, and I shall tell it you.”
+
+“Do not be in a hurry, Guiche,” exclaimed the prince, “you have plenty of time; look at me attentively, and try to recollect Madame. Besides, her portrait is here. Look at it.” And he held out to him a miniature of the finest possible execution. De Guiche took it, and looked at it for a long time attentively.
+
+“Upon my honor, my lord, this is indeed a most lovely face.”
+
+“But look at me, count, look at me,” said the prince, endeavoring to direct upon himself the attention of the count, who was completely absorbed in contemplation of the portrait.
+
+“It is wonderful,” murmured Guiche.
+
+“Really one would imagine you had never seen the young lady before.”
+
+“It is true, my lord, I have seen her but it was five years ago; there is a great difference between a child twelve years old, and a girl of seventeen.”
+
+“Well, what is your opinion?”
+
+“My opinion is that the portrait must be flattering, my lord.”
+
+“Of that,” said the prince triumphantly, “there can be no doubt; but let us suppose that it is not, what would your opinion be?”
+
+“My lord, that your highness is exceedingly happy to have so charming a bride.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing. The prince understood how severe towards himself this opinion of the Comte de Guiche was, and he looked somewhat displeased, saying, “My friends are not over indulgent.” De Guiche looked at the portrait again, and, after lengthened contemplation, returned it with apparent unwillingness, saying, “Most decidedly, my lord, I should rather prefer to look ten times at your highness, than to look at Madame once again.” It seemed as if the chevalier had detected some mystery in these words, which were incomprehensible to the prince, for he exclaimed: “Very well, get married yourself.” Monsieur continued painting himself, and when he had finished, looked at the portrait again once more, turned to admire himself in the glass, and smiled, and no doubt was satisfied with the comparison. “You are very kind to have come,” he said to Guiche, “I feared you would leave without bidding me adieu.”
+
+“Your highness knows me too well to believe me capable of so great a disrespect.”
+
+“Besides, I suppose you have something to ask from me before leaving Paris?”
+
+“Your highness has indeed guessed correctly, for I have a request to make.”
+
+“Very good, what is it?”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine immediately displayed the greatest attention, for he regarded every favor conferred upon another as a robbery committed against himself. And, as Guiche hesitated, the prince said: “If it be money, nothing could be more fortunate, for I am in funds; the superintendent of the finances has sent me 500,000 pistoles.”
+
+“I thank your highness; but is not an affair of money.”
+
+“What is it, then? Tell me.”
+
+“The appointment of a maid of honor.”
+
+“Oh! oh! Guiche, what a protector you have become of young ladies,” said the prince, “you never speak of any one else now.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine smiled, for he knew very well that nothing displeased the prince more than to show any interest in ladies. “My lord,” said the comte, “it is not I who am directly interested in the lady of whom I have just spoken; I am acting on behalf of one of my friends.”
+
+“Ah! that is different; what is the name of the young lady in whom your friend is so interested?”
+
+“Mlle. de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere; she is already maid of honor to the dowager princess.”
+
+“Why, she is lame,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, stretching himself on his cushions.
+
+“Lame,” repeated the prince, “and Madame to have her constantly before her eyes? Most certainly not; it may be dangerous for her when in an interesting condition.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing.
+
+“Chevalier,” said Guiche, “your conduct is ungenerous; while I am soliciting a favor, you do me all the mischief you can.”
+
+“Forgive me, comte,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, somewhat uneasy at the tone in which Guiche had made his remark, “but I had no intention of doing so, and I begin to believe that I have mistaken one young lady for another.”
+
+“There is no doubt of it, monsieur; and I do not hesitate to declare that such is the case.”
+
+“Do you attach much importance to it, Guiche?” inquired the prince.
+
+“I do, my lord.”
+
+“Well, you shall have it; but ask me for no more appointments, for there are none to give away.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the chevalier, “midday already, that is the hour fixed for the departure.”
+
+“You dismiss me, monsieur?” inquired Guiche.
+
+“Really, count, you treat me very ill to-day,” replied the chevalier.
+
+“For heaven’s sake, count, for heaven’s sake, chevalier,” said Monsieur, “do you not see how you are distressing me?”
+
+“Your highness’s signature?” said Guiche.
+
+“Take a blank appointment from that drawer, and give it to me.” Guiche handed the prince the document indicated, and at the same time presented him with a pen already dipped in ink; whereupon the prince signed. “Here,” he said, returning him the appointment, “but I give it on one condition.”
+
+“Name it.”
+
+“That you make friends with the chevalier.”
+
+“Willingly,” said Guiche. And he held out his hand to the chevalier with an indifference amounting to contempt.
+
+“Adieu, count,” said the chevalier, without seeming in any way to have noticed the count’s slight; “adieu, and bring us back a princess who will not talk with her own portrait too much.”
+
+“Yes, set off and lose no time. By the by, who will accompany you?”
+
+“Bragelonne and De Wardes.”
+
+“Both excellent and fearless companions.”
+
+“Too fearless,” said the chevalier; “endeavor to bring them both back, count.”
+
+“A bad heart, bad!” murmured De Guiche; “he scents mischief everywhere, and sooner than anything else.” And taking leave of the prince, he quitted the apartment. As soon as he reached the vestibule, he waved in the air the paper which the prince had signed. Malicorne hurried forward, and received it, trembling with delight. When, however, he held in his hand, Guiche observed that he still awaited something further.
+
+“Patience, monsieur,” he said; “the Chevalier de Lorraine was there, and I feared an utter failure if I asked too much at once. Wait until I return. Adieu.”
+
+“Adieu, monsieur le comte; a thousand thanks,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Send Manicamp to me. By the way, monsieur, is it true that Mlle. de la Valliere is lame?” As he said this, he noticed that Bragelonne, who had just at that moment entered the courtyard, turned suddenly pale. The poor lover had heard the remark, which, however, was not the case with Malicorne, for he was already beyond the reach of the count’s voice.
+
+“Why is Louise’s name spoken of here,” said Raoul to himself; “oh! let not De Wardes, who stands smiling yonder, even say a word about her in my presence.”
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” exclaimed the Comte de Guiche, “prepare to start.”
+
+At this moment the prince, who had complete his toilette, appeared at the window, and was immediately saluted by the acclamations of all who composed the escort, and ten minutes afterwards, banners, scarfs, and feathers were fluttering and waving in the air, as the cavalcade galloped away.
+
+Chapter VIII. Le Havre.
+
+This brilliant and animated company, the members of which were inspired by various feelings, arrived at Le Havre four days after their departure from Paris. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and no intelligence had yet been received of Madame. They were soon engaged in quest of apartments; but the greatest confusion immediately ensued among the masters, and violent quarrels among their attendants. In the midst of this disorder, the Comte de Guiche fancied he recognized Manicamp. It was, indeed, Manicamp himself; but as Malicorne had taken possession of his very best costume, he had not been able to get any other than a suit of violet velvet, trimmed with silver. Guiche recognized him as much by his dress as by his features, for he had very frequently seen Manicamp in his violet suit, which was his last resource. Manicamp presented himself to the count under an arch of torches, which set in a blaze, rather than illuminated, the gate by which Le Havre is entered, and which is situated close to the tower of Francis I. The count, remarking the woe-begone expression of Manicamp’s face, could not resist laughing. “Well, my poor Manicamp,” he exclaimed, “how violet you look; are you in mourning?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Manicamp; “I am in mourning.”
+
+“For whom, or for what?”
+
+“For my blue-and-gold suit, which has disappeared, and in the place of which I could find nothing but this; and I was even obliged to economize from compulsion, in order to get possession of it.”
+
+“Indeed?”
+
+“It is singular you should be astonished at that, since you leave me without any money.”
+
+“At all events, here you are, and that is the principal thing.”
+
+“By the most horrible roads.”
+
+“Where are you lodging?”
+
+“Lodging?”
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“I am not lodging anywhere.”
+
+De Guiche began to laugh. “Well,” said he, “where do you intend to lodge?”
+
+“In the same place you do.”
+
+“But I don’t know, myself.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying you don’t know?”
+
+“Certainly, how is it likely I should know where I should stay?”
+
+“Have you not retained an hotel?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you or the prince.”
+
+“Neither of us has thought of it. Le Havre is of considerable size, I suppose; and provided I can get a stable for a dozen horses, and a suitable house in a good quarter -- ”
+
+“Certainly, there are some very excellent houses.”
+
+“Well then -- ”
+
+“But not for us.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying not for us? -- for whom, then?”
+
+“For the English, of course.”
+
+“For the English?”
+
+“Yes; the houses are all taken.”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“I beg your pardon?” said Guiche, whose attention this name had awakened.
+
+“Yes, by the Duke of Buckingham. His Grace was preceded by a courier, who arrived here three days ago, and immediately retained all the houses fit for habitation the town possesses.”
+
+“Come, come, Manicamp, let us understand each other.”
+
+“Well, what I have told you is clear enough, it seems to me.”
+
+“But surely Buckingham does not occupy the whole of Le Havre?”
+
+“He certainly does not occupy it, since he has not yet arrived; but, once disembarked, he will occupy it.”
+
+“Oh! oh!”
+
+“It is quite clear you are not acquainted with the English; they have a perfect rage for monopolizing everything.”
+
+“That may be; but a man who has the whole of one house, is satisfied with it, and does not require two.”
+
+“Yes, but two men?”
+
+“Be it so; for two men, two houses, or four or six, or ten, if you like; but there are a hundred houses at Le Havre.”
+
+“Yes, and all the hundred are let.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“What an obstinate fellow you are. I tell you Buckingham has hired all the houses surrounding the one which the queen dowager of England and the princess her daughter will inhabit.”
+
+“He is singular enough, indeed,” said De Wardes, caressing his horse’s neck.
+
+“Such is the case, however, monsieur.”
+
+“You are quite sure of it, Monsieur de Manicamp?” and as he put this question, he looked slyly at De Guiche, as though to interrogate him upon the degree of confidence to be placed in his friend’s state of mind. During this discussion the night had closed in, and the torches, pages, attendants, squires, horses, and carriages, blocked up the gate and the open place; the torches were reflected in the channel, which the rising tide was gradually filling, while on the other side of the jetty might be noticed groups of curious lookers-on, consisting of sailors and townspeople, who seemed anxious to miss nothing of the spectacle. Amidst all this hesitation of purpose, Bragelonne, as though a perfect stranger to the scene, remained on his horse somewhat in the rear of Guiche, and watched the rays of light reflected on the water, inhaling with rapture the sea breezes, and listening to the waves which noisily broke upon the shore and on the beach, tossing the spray into the air with a noise that echoed in the distance. “But,” exclaimed De Guiche, “what is Buckingham’s motive for providing such a supply of lodgings?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said De Wardes; “what reason has he?”
+
+“A very excellent one,” replied Manicamp.
+
+“You know what it is, then?”
+
+“I fancy I do.”
+
+“Tell us, then.”
+
+“Bend your head down towards me.”
+
+“What! may it not be spoken except in private?”
+
+“You shall judge of that yourself.”
+
+“Very well.” De Guiche bent down.
+
+“Love,” said Manicamp.
+
+“I do not understand you at all.”
+
+“Say rather, you cannot understand me yet.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Very well; it is quite certain, count, that his royal highness will be the most unfortunate of husbands.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham -- ”
+
+“It is a name of ill omen to the princes of the house of France.”
+
+“And so the duke is madly in love with Madame, so the rumor runs, and will have no one approach her but himself.”
+
+De Guiche colored. “Thank you, thank you,” said he to Manicamp, grasping his hand. Then, recovering himself, added, “Whatever you do, Manicamp, be careful that this project of Buckingham’s is not made known to any Frenchman here; for, if so, many a sword would be unsheathed in this country that does not fear English steel.”
+
+“But after all,” said Manicamp, “I have had no satisfactory proof given me of the love in question, and it may be no more than an idle tale.”
+
+“No, no,” said De Guiche, “it must be the truth;” and despite his command over himself, he clenched his teeth.
+
+“Well,” said Manicamp, “after all, what does it matter to you? What does it matter to me whether the prince is to be what the late king was? Buckingham the father for the queen, Buckingham the son for the princess.”
+
+“Manicamp! Manicamp!”
+
+“It is a fact, or at least, everybody says so.”
+
+“Silence!” cried the count.
+
+“But why, silence?” said De Wardes; “it is a highly creditable circumstance for the French nation. Are not you of my opinion, Monsieur de Bragelonne?”
+
+“To what circumstance do you allude?” inquired De Bragelonne with an abstracted air.
+
+“That the English should render homage to the beauty of our queens and our princesses.”
+
+“Forgive me, but I have not been paying attention to what has passed; will you oblige me by explaining.”
+
+“There is no doubt it was necessary that Buckingham the father should come to Paris in order that his majesty, King Louis XIII., should perceive that his wife was one of the most beautiful women of the French court; and it seems necessary, at the present time, that Buckingham the son should consecrate, by the devotion of his worship, the beauty of a princess who has French blood in her veins. The fact of having inspired a passion on the other side of the Channel will henceforth confer a title to beauty on this.”
+
+“Sir,” replied De Bragelonne, “I do not like to hear such matters treated so lightly. Gentlemen like ourselves should be careful guardians of the honor of our queens and our princesses. If we jest at them, what will our servants do?”
+
+“How am I to understand that?” said De Wardes, whose ears tingled at the remark.
+
+“In any way you chose, monsieur,” replied De Bragelonne, coldly.
+
+“Bragelonne, Bragelonne,” murmured De Guiche.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” exclaimed Manicamp, noticing that the young man had spurred his horse close to the side of Raoul.
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said De Guiche, “do not set such an example in public, in the street too. De Wardes, you are wrong.”
+
+“Wrong; in what way, may I ask you?”
+
+“You are wrong, monsieur, because you are always speaking ill of someone or something,” replied Raoul, with undisturbed composure.
+
+“Be indulgent, Raoul,” said De Guiche, in an undertone.
+
+“Pray do not think of fighting, gentlemen!” said Manicamp, “before you have rested yourselves; for in that case you will not be able to do much.”
+
+“Come,” said De Guiche, “forward, gentlemen!” and breaking through the horses and attendants, he cleared the way for himself towards the center of the square, through the crowd, followed by the whole cavalcade. A large gateway looking out upon a courtyard was open; Guiche entered the courtyard, and Bragelonne, De Wardes, Manicamp, and three or four other gentlemen, followed him. A sort of council of war was held, and the means to be employed for saving the dignity of the embassy were deliberated upon. Bragelonne was of the opinion that the right of priority should be respected, while De Wardes suggested that the town should be sacked. This latter proposition appearing to Manicamp rather premature, he proposed instead that they should first rest themselves. This was the wisest thing to do, but, unhappily, to follow his advice, two things were wanting; namely, a house and beds. De Guiche reflected for awhile, and then said aloud, “Let him who loves me, follow me!”
+
+“The attendants also?” inquired a page who had approached the group.
+
+“Every one,” exclaimed the impetuous young man. “Manicamp, show us the way to the house destined for her royal highness’s residence.”
+
+Without in any way divining the count’s project, his friends followed him, accompanied by a crowd of people, whose acclamations and delight seemed a happy omen for the success of that project with which they were yet unacquainted. The wind was blowing strongly from the harbor, and moaning in fitful gusts.
+
+Chapter IX. At Sea.
+
+The following day was somewhat calmer, although the gale still continued. The sun had, however, risen through a bank of orange clouds, tingeing with its cheerful rays the crests of the black waves. Watch was impatiently kept from the different look-outs. Towards eleven o’clock in the morning a ship, with sails full set, was signalled as in view; two others followed at the distance of about half a knot. They approached like arrows shot from the bow of a skillful archer; and yet the sea ran so high that their speed was as nothing compared to the rolling of the billows in which the vessels were plunging first in one direction and then in another. The English fleet was soon recognized by the line of the ships, and by the color of their pennants; the one which had the princess on board and carried the admiral’s flag preceded the others.
+
+The rumor now spread that the princess was arriving. The whole French court ran to the harbor, while the quays and jetties were soon covered by crowds of people. Two hours afterwards, the other vessels had overtaken the flagship, and the three, not venturing perhaps to enter the narrow entrance of the harbor, cast anchor between Le Havre and La Heve. When the maneuver had been completed, the vessel which bore the admiral saluted France by twelve discharges of cannon, which were returned, discharge for discharge, from Fort Francis I. Immediately afterwards a hundred boats were launched; they were covered with the richest stuffs, and destined for the conveyance of the different members of the French nobility towards the vessels at anchor. But when it was observed that even inside the harbor the boats were tossed to and fro, and that beyond the jetty the waves rose mountains high, dashing upon the shore with a terrible uproar, it was readily believed that not one of those frail boats would be able with safety to reach a fourth part of the distance between the shore and the vessels at anchor. A pilot-boat, however, notwithstanding the wind and the sea, was getting ready to leave the harbor, for the purpose of placing itself at the admiral’s disposal.
+
+De Guiche, who had been looking among the different boats for one stronger than the others, which might offer a chance of reaching the English vessels, perceiving the pilot-boat getting ready to start, said to Raoul: “Do you not think, Raoul, that intelligent and vigorous men, as we are, ought to be ashamed to retreat before the brute strength of wind and waves?”
+
+“That is precisely the very reflection I was silently making to myself,” replied Bragelonne.
+
+“Shall we get into that boat, then, and push off? Will you come, De Wardes?”
+
+“Take care, or you will get drowned,” said Manicamp.
+
+“And for no purpose,” said De Wardes, “for with the wind in your teeth, as it will be, you will never reach the vessels.”
+
+“You refuse, then?”
+
+“Assuredly I do; I would willingly risk and lose my life in an encounter against men,” he said, glancing at Bragelonne, “but as to fighting with oars against waves, I have no taste for that.”
+
+“And for myself,” said Manicamp, “even were I to succeed in reaching the ships, I should not be indifferent to the loss of the only good dress which I have left, -- salt water would spoil it.”
+
+“You, then, refuse also?” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Decidedly I do; I beg you to understand that most distinctly.”
+
+“But,” exclaimed De Guiche, “look, De Wardes -- look, Manicamp -- look yonder, the princesses are looking at us from the poop of the admiral’s vessel.”
+
+“An additional reason, my dear fellow, why we should not make ourselves ridiculous by being drowned while they are looking on.”
+
+“Is that your last word, Manicamp?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And then yours, De Wardes?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then I go alone.”
+
+“Not so,” said Raoul, “for I shall accompany you; I thought it was understood I should do so.”
+
+The fact is, that Raoul, uninfluenced by devotion, measuring the risk they run, saw how imminent the danger was, but he willingly allowed himself to accept a peril which De Wardes had declined.
+
+The boat was about to set off when De Guiche called to the pilot. “Stay,” said he: “we want two places in your boat;” and wrapping five or six pistoles in paper, he threw them from the quay into the boat.
+
+“It seems you are not afraid of salt water, young gentlemen.”
+
+“We are afraid of nothing,” replied De Guiche.
+
+“Come along, then.”
+
+The pilot approached the side of the boat, and the two young men, one after the other, with equal vivacity, jumped into the boat. “Courage, my men,” said De Guiche; “I have twenty pistoles left in this purse, and as soon as we reach the admiral’s vessel they shall be yours.” The sailors bent themselves to their oars, and the boat bounded over the crest of the waves. The interest taken in this hazardous expedition was universal; the whole population of Le Havre hurried towards the jetties and every look was directed towards the little bark; at one moment it flew suspended on the crest of the foaming waves, then suddenly glided downwards towards the bottom of a raging abyss, where it seemed utterly lost. At the expiration of an hour’s struggling with the waves, it reached the spot where the admiral’s vessel was anchored, and from the side of which two boats had already been dispatched towards their aid. Upon the quarter-deck of the flagship, sheltered by a canopy of velvet and ermine, which was suspended by stout supports, Henriette, the queen dowager, and the young princess -- with the admiral, the Duke of Norfolk, standing beside them -- watched with alarm this slender bark, at one moment tossed to the heavens, and the next buried beneath the waves, and against whose dark sail the noble figures of the two French gentlemen stood forth in relief like two luminous apparitions. The crew, leaning against the bulwarks and clinging to the shrouds, cheered the courage of the two daring young men, the skill of the pilot, and the strength of the sailors. They were received at the side of the vessel by a shout of triumph. The Duke of Norfolk, a handsome young man, from twenty-six to twenty-eight years of age, advanced to meet them. De Guiche and Bragelonne lightly mounted the ladder on the starboard side, and, conducted by the Duke of Norfolk, who resumed his place near them, they approached to offer their homage to the princess. Respect, and yet more, a certain apprehension, for which he could not account, had hitherto restrained the Comte de Guiche from looking at Madame attentively, who, however, had observed him immediately, and had asked her mother, “Is not that Monsieur in the boat yonder?” Madame Henriette, who knew Monsieur better than her daughter did, smiled at the mistake her vanity had led her into, and had answered, “No; it is only M. de Guiche, his favorite.” The princess, at this reply, was constrained to check an instinctive tenderness of feeling which the courage displayed by the count had awakened. At the very moment the princess had put this question to her mother, De Guiche had, at last, summoned courage to raise his eyes towards her and could compare the original with the portrait he had so lately seen. No sooner had he remarked her pale face, her eyes so full of animation, her beautiful nut-brown hair, her expressive lips, and her every gesture, which, while betokening royal descent, seemed to thank and to encourage him at one and the same time, than he was, for a moment, so overcome, that, had it not been for Raoul, on whose arm he leant, he would have fallen. His friend’s amazed look, and the encouraging gesture of the queen, restored Guiche to his self-possession. In a few words he explained his mission, explained in what way he had become envoy of his royal highness; and saluted, according to their rank and the reception they gave him, the admiral and several of the English noblemen who were grouped around the princess.
+
+Raoul was then presented, and was most graciously received; the share that the Comte de la Fere had had in the restoration of Charles II. was known to all; and, more than that, it was the comte who had been charged with the negotiation of the marriage, by means of which the granddaughter of Henry IV. was now returning to France. Raoul spoke English perfectly, and constituted himself his friend’s interpreter with the young English noblemen, who were indifferently acquainted with the French language. At this moment, a young man came forward, of extremely handsome features, and whose dress and arms were remarkable for their extravagance of material. He approached the princesses, who were engaged in conversation with the Duke of Norfolk, and, in a voice which ill concealed his impatience, said, “It is now time to disembark, your royal highness.” The younger of the princesses rose from her seat at this remark, and was about to take the hand which the young nobleman extended to her, with an eagerness which arose from a variety of motives, when the admiral intervened between them, observing: “A moment, if you please, my lord; it is not possible for ladies to disembark just now, the sea is too rough; it is probable the wind may abate before sunset, and the landing will not be effected, therefore, until this evening.”
+
+“Allow me to observe, my lord,” said Buckingham, with an irritation of manner which he did not seek to disguise, “you detain these ladies, and you have no right to do so. One of them, unhappily, now belongs to France, and you perceive that France claims them by the voice of her ambassadors;” and at the same moment he indicated Raoul and Guiche, whom he saluted.
+
+“I cannot suppose that these gentlemen intend to expose the lives of their royal highnesses,” replied the admiral.
+
+“These gentlemen,” retorted Buckingham, “arrived here safely, notwithstanding the wind; allow me to believe that the danger will not be greater for their royal highnesses when the wind will be in their favor.”
+
+“These envoys have shown how great their courage is,” said the admiral. “You may have observed that there was a great number of persons on shore who did not venture to accompany them. Moreover, the desire which they had to show their respect with the least possible delay to Madame and her illustrious mother, induced them to brave the sea, which is very tempestuous to-day, even for sailors. These gentlemen, however, whom I recommend as an example for my officers to follow, can hardly be so for these ladies.”
+
+Madame glanced at the Comte de Guiche, and perceived that his face was burning with confusion. This look had escaped Buckingham, who had eyes for nothing but Norfolk, of whom he was evidently very jealous; he seemed anxious to remove the princesses from the deck of a vessel where the admiral reigned supreme. “In that case,” returned Buckingham, “I appeal to Madame herself.”
+
+“And I, my lord,” retorted the admiral, “I appeal to my own conscience, and to my own sense of responsibility. I have undertaken to convey Madame safe and sound to France, and I shall keep my promise.”
+
+“But, sir -- ” continued Buckingham.
+
+“My lord, permit me to remind you that I command here.”
+
+“Are you aware what you are saying, my lord?” replied Buckingham, haughtily.
+
+“Perfectly so; I therefore repeat it: I alone command here, all yield obedience to me; the sea and the winds, the ships and men too.” This remark was made in a dignified and authoritative manner. Raoul observed its effect upon Buckingham, who trembled with anger from head to foot, and leaned against one of the poles of the tent to prevent himself falling; his eyes became suffused with blood, and the hand which he did not need for his support wandered towards the hilt of his sword.
+
+“My lord,” said the queen, “permit me to observe that I agree in every particular with the Duke of Norfolk; if the heavens, instead of being clouded as they are at the present moment, were perfectly serene and propitious, we can still afford to bestow a few hours upon the officer who has conducted us so successfully, and with such extreme attention, to the French coast, where he is to take leave of us.”
+
+Buckingham, instead of replying, seemed to seek counsel from the expression of Madame’s face. She, however, half-concealed beneath the thick curtains of the velvet and gold which sheltered her, had not listened to the discussion, having been occupied in watching the Comte de Guiche, who was conversing with Raoul. This was a fresh misfortune for Buckingham, who fancied he perceived in Madame Henrietta’s look a deeper feeling than that of curiosity. He withdrew, almost tottering in his gait, and nearly stumbled against the mainmast of the ship.
+
+“The duke has not acquired a steady footing yet,” said the queen-mother, in French, “and that may possibly be his reason for wishing to find himself on firm land again.”
+
+The young man overheard this remark, turned suddenly pale, and, letting his hands fall in great discouragement by his side, drew aside, mingling in one sigh his old affection and his new hatreds. The admiral, however, without taking any further notice of the duke’s ill-humor, led the princesses into the quarter-deck cabin, where dinner had been served with a magnificence worthy in every respect of his guests. The admiral seated himself at the right hand of the princess, and placed the Comte de Guiche on her left. This was the place Buckingham usually occupied; and when he entered the cabin, how profound was his unhappiness to see himself banished by etiquette from the presence of his sovereign, to a position inferior to that which, by rank, he was entitled to. De Guiche, on the other hand, paler still perhaps from happiness, than his rival was from anger, seated himself tremblingly next to the princess, whose silken robe, as it lightly touched him, caused a tremor of mingled regret and happiness to pass through his whole frame. The repast finished, Buckingham darted forward to hand Madame Henrietta from the table; but this time it was De Guiche’s turn to give the duke a lesson. “Have the goodness, my lord, from this moment,” said he, “not to interpose between her royal highness and myself. From this moment, indeed, her royal highness belongs to France, and when she deigns to honor me by touching my hand it is the hand of Monsieur, the brother of the king of France, she touches.”
+
+And saying this, he presented his hand to Madame Henrietta with such marked deference, and at the same time with a nobleness of mien so intrepid, that a murmur of admiration rose from the English, whilst a groan of despair escaped from Buckingham’s lips. Raoul, who loved, comprehended it all. He fixed upon his friend one of those profound looks which a bosom friend or mother can alone extend, either as protector or guardian, over the one who is about to stray from the right path. Towards two o’clock in the afternoon the sun shone forth anew, the wind subsided, the sea became smooth as a crystal mirror, and the fog, which had shrouded the coast, disappeared like a veil withdrawn before it. The smiling hills of France appeared in full view, with their numerous white houses rendered more conspicuous by the bright green of the trees or the clear blue sky.
+
+Chapter X. The Tents.
+
+The admiral, as we have seen, was determined to pay no further attention to Buckingham’s threatening glances and fits of passion. In fact, from the moment they quitted England, he had gradually accustomed himself to his behavior. De Guiche had not yet in any way remarked the animosity which appeared to influence that young nobleman against him, but he felt, instinctively, that there could be no sympathy between himself and the favorite of Charles II. The queen-mother, with greater experience and calmer judgment, perceived the exact position of affairs, and, as she discerned its danger, was prepared to meet it, whenever the proper moment should arrive. Quiet had been everywhere restored, except in Buckingham’s heart; he, in his impatience, addressed himself to the princess, in a low tone of voice: “For Heaven’s sake, madame, I implore you to hasten your disembarkation. Do you not perceive how that insolent Duke of Norfolk is killing me with his attentions and devotions to you?”
+
+Henrietta heard this remark; she smiled, and without turning her head towards him, but giving only to the tone of her voice that inflection of gentle reproach, and languid impertinence, which women and princesses so well know how to assume, she murmured, “I have already hinted, my lord, that you must have taken leave of your senses.”
+
+Not a single detail escaped Raoul’s attention; he heard both Buckingham’s entreaty and the princess’s reply; he remarked Buckingham retire, heard his deep sigh, and saw him pass a hand over his face. He understood everything, and trembled as he reflected on the position of affairs, and the state of the minds of those about him. At last the admiral, with studied delay, gave the last orders for the departure of the boats. Buckingham heard the directions given with such an exhibition of delight that a stranger would really imagine the young man’s reason was affected. As the Duke of Norfolk gave his commands, a large boat or barge, decked with flags, and capable of holding about twenty rowers and fifteen passengers, was slowly lowered from the side of the admiral’s vessel. The barge was carpeted with velvet and decorated with coverings embroidered with the arms of England, and with garlands of flowers; for, at that time, ornamentation was by no means forgotten in these political pageants. No sooner was this really royal boat afloat, and the rowers with oars uplifted, awaiting, like soldiers presenting arms, the embarkation of the princess, than Buckingham ran forward to the ladder in order to take his place. His progress was, however, arrested by the queen. “My lord,” she said, “it is hardly becoming that you should allow my daughter and myself to land without having previously ascertained that our apartments are properly prepared. I beg your lordship to be good enough to precede us ashore, and to give directions that everything be in proper order on our arrival.”
+
+This was a fresh disappointment for the duke, and, still more so, since it was so unexpected. He hesitated, colored violently, but could not reply. He had thought he might be able to keep near Madame during the passage to the shore, and, by this means, to enjoy to the very last moment the brief period fortune still reserved for him. The order, however, was explicit; and the admiral, who heard it given, immediately called out, “Launch the ship’s gig.” His directions were executed with that celerity which distinguishes every maneuver on board a man-of-war.
+
+Buckingham, in utter hopelessness, cast a look of despair at the princess, of supplication towards the queen, and directed a glance full of anger towards the admiral. The princess pretended not to notice him, while the queen turned aside her head, and the admiral laughed outright, at the sound of which Buckingham seemed ready to spring upon him. The queen-mother rose, and with a tone of authority said, “Pray set off, sir.”
+
+The young duke hesitated, looked around him, and with a last effort, half-choked by contending emotions, said, “And you, gentlemen, M. de Guiche and M. de Bragelonne, do not you accompany me?”
+
+De Guiche bowed and said, “Both M. de Bragelonne and myself await her majesty’s orders; whatever the commands she imposes on us, we shall obey them.” Saying this, he looked towards the princess, who cast down her eyes.
+
+“Your grace will remember,” said the queen, “that M. de Guiche is here to represent Monsieur; it is he who will do the honors of France, as you have done those of England; his presence cannot be dispensed with; besides, we owe him this slight favor for the courage he displayed in venturing to seek us in such a terrible stress of weather.”
+
+Buckingham opened his lips, as if he were about to speak, but, whether thoughts or expressions failed him, not a syllable escaped them, and turning away, as though out of his mind, he leapt from the vessel into the boat. The sailors were just in time to catch hold of him to steady themselves; for his weight and the rebound had almost upset the boat.
+
+“His grace cannot be in his senses,” said the admiral aloud to Raoul.
+
+“I am uneasy on the Duke’s account,” replied Bragelonne.
+
+While the boat was advancing towards the shore, the duke kept his eyes immovably fixed on the admiral’s ship, like a miser torn away from his coffers, or a mother separated from her child, about to be lead away to death. No one, however, acknowledged his signals, his frowns, or his pitiful gestures. In very anguish of mind, he sank down in the boat, burying his hands in his hair, whilst the boat, impelled by the exertions of the merry sailors, flew over the waves. On his arrival he was in such a state of apathy, that, had he not been received at the harbor by the messenger whom he had directed to precede him, he would hardly have had strength to ask his way. Having once, however, reached the house which had been set apart for him, he shut himself up, like Achilles in his tent. The barge bearing the princess quitted the admiral’s vessel at the very moment Buckingham landed. It was followed by another boat filled with officers, courtiers, and zealous friends. Great numbers of the inhabitants of Le Havre, having embarked in fishing-cobles and boats of every description, set off to meet the royal barge. The cannon from the forts fired salutes, which were returned by the flagship and the two other vessels, and the flashes from the open mouths of the cannon floated in white fumes over the waves, and disappeared in the clear blue sky.
+
+The princess landed at the decorated quay. Bands of gay music greeted her arrival, and accompanied her every step she took. During the time she was passing through the center of town, and treading beneath her delicate feet the richest carpets and the gayest flowers, which had been strewn upon the ground, De Guiche and Raoul, escaping from their English friends, hurried through the town and hastened rapidly towards the place intended for the residence of Madame.
+
+“Let us hurry forward,” said Raoul to De Guiche, “for if I read Buckingham’s character aright, he will create some disturbance, when he learns the result of our deliberations of yesterday.”
+
+“Never fear,” said De Guiche, “De Wardes is there, who is determination itself, while Manicamp is the very personification of the artless gentleness.”
+
+De Guiche was not, however, the less diligent on that account, and five minutes afterwards they were within sight of the Hotel de Ville. The first thing which struck them was the number of people assembled in the square. “Excellent,” said De Guiche; “our apartments, I see, are prepared.”
+
+In fact, in front of the Hotel de Ville, upon the wide open space before it, eight tents had been raised, surmounted by the flags of France and England united. The hotel was surrounded by tents, as by a girdle of variegated colors; ten pages and a dozen mounted troopers, for an escort, mounted guard before the tents. It had a singularly curious effect, almost fairy-like in its appearance. These tents had been constructed during the night-time. Fitted up, within and without, with the richest materials that De Guiche had been able to procure in Le Havre, they completely encircled the Hotel de Ville. The only passage which led to the steps of the hotel, and which was not inclosed by the silken barricade, was guarded by two tents, resembling two pavilions, the doorways of both of which opened towards the entrance. These two tents were destined for De Guiche and Raoul; in whose absence they were intended to be occupied, that of De Guiche by De Wardes, and that of Raoul by Manicamp. Surrounding these two tents, and the six others, a hundred officers, gentlemen, and pages, dazzling in their display of silk and gold, thronged like bees buzzing about a hive. Every one of them, their swords by their sides, was ready to obey the slightest sign either of De Guiche or Bragelonne, the leaders of the embassy.
+
+At the very moment the two young men appeared at the end of one of the streets leading to the square, they perceived, crossing the square at full gallop, a young man on horseback, whose costume was of surprising richness. He pushed hastily thorough the crowd of curious lookers-on, and, at the sight of these unexpected erections, uttered a cry of anger and dismay. It was Buckingham, who had awakened from his stupor, in order to adorn himself with a costume perfectly dazzling from its beauty, and to await the arrival of the princess and the queen-mother at the Hotel de Ville. At the entrance to the tents, the soldiers barred his passage, and his further progress was arrested. Buckingham, hopelessly infuriated, raised his whip; but his arm was seized by a couple of officers. Of the two guardians of the tent, only one was there. De Wardes was in the interior of the Hotel de Ville, engaging in attending to the execution of some orders by De Guiche. At the noise made by Buckingham, Manicamp, who was indolently reclining upon the cushions at the doorway of one of the tents, rose with his usual indifference, and, perceiving that the disturbance continued, made his appearance from underneath the curtains. “What is the matter?” he said, in a gentle tone of voice, “and who is making this disturbance?”
+
+It so happened, that, at the moment he began to speak, silence had just been restored, and, although his voice was very soft and gentle in its touch, every one heard his question. Buckingham turned round, and looked at the tall thin figure, and the listless expression of countenance of his questioner. Probably the personal appearance of Manicamp, who was dressed very plainly, did not inspire him with much respect, for he replied disdainfully, “Who may you be, monsieur?”
+
+Manicamp, leaning on the arm of a gigantic trooper, as firm as the pillar of a cathedral, replied in his usual tranquil tone of voice, -- “And you, monsieur?”
+
+“I, monsieur, am the Duke of Buckingham; I have hired all the houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, where I have business to transact; and as these houses are let, they belong to me, and, as I hired them in order to preserve the right of free access to the Hotel de Ville, you are not justified in preventing me passing to it.”
+
+“But who prevents you passing, monsieur?” inquired Manicamp.
+
+“Your sentinels.”
+
+“Because you wish to pass on horseback, and orders have been given to let only persons on foot pass.”
+
+“No one has any right to give orders here, except myself,” said Buckingham.
+
+“On what grounds?” inquired Manicamp, with his soft tone. “Will you do me the favor to explain this enigma to me?”
+
+“Because, as I have already told you, I have hired all the houses looking on the square.”
+
+“We are very well aware of that, since nothing but the square itself has been left for us.”
+
+“You are mistaken, monsieur; the square belongs to me, as well as the houses in it.”
+
+“Forgive me, monsieur, but you are mistaken there. In our country, we say, the highway belongs to the king, therefore this square is his majesty’s; and, consequently, as we are the king’s ambassadors, the square belongs to us.”
+
+“I have already asked you who you are, monsieur,” exclaimed Buckingham, exasperated at the coolness of his interlocutor.
+
+“My name is Manicamp,” replied the young man, in a voice whose tones were as harmonious and sweet as the notes of an Aeolian harp.
+
+Buckingham shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and said, “When I hired these houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, the square was unoccupied; these barracks obstruct my sight; I hereby order them to be removed.”
+
+A hoarse and angry murmur ran through the crowd of listeners at these words. De Guiche arrived at this moment; he pushed through the crowd which separated him from Buckingham, and, followed by Raoul, arrived on the scene of action from one side, just as De Wardes came up from the other. “Pardon me, my lord; but if you have any complaint to make, have the goodness to address it to me, inasmuch as it was I who supplied the plans for the construction of these tents.”
+
+“Moreover, I would beg you to observe, monsieur, that the term ‘barrack’ is a highly objectionable one!” added Manicamp, graciously.
+
+“You were saying, monsieur -- ” continued De Guiche.
+
+“I was saying, monsieur le comte,” resumed Buckingham, in a tone of anger more marked than ever, although in some measure moderated by the presence of an equal, “I was saying that it is impossible these tents can remain where they are.”
+
+“Impossible!” exclaimed De Guiche, “and why?”
+
+“Because I object to them.”
+
+A movement of impatience escaped De Guiche, but a warning glance from Raoul restrained him.
+
+“You should the less object to them, monsieur, on account of the abuse of priority you have permitted yourself to exercise.”
+
+“Abuse!”
+
+“Most assuredly. You commission a messenger, who hires in your name the whole of the town of Le Havre, without considering the members of the French court, who would be sure to arrive here to meet Madame. Your Grace will admit that this is hardly friendly conduct in the representative of a friendly nation.”
+
+“The right of possession belongs to him who is first on the ground.”
+
+“Not in France, monsieur.”
+
+“Why not in France?”
+
+“Because France is a country where politeness is observed.”
+
+“Which means?” exclaimed Buckingham, in so violent a manner that those who were present drew back, expecting an immediate collision.
+
+“Which means, monsieur,” replied De Guiche, now rather pale, “that I caused these tents to be raised as habitations for myself and my friends, as a shelter for the ambassadors of France, as the only place of refuge which your exactions have left us in the town; and that I and those who are with me, shall remain in them, at least, until an authority more powerful, and more supreme, than your own shall dismiss me from them.”
+
+“In other words, until we are ejected, as the lawyers say,” observed Manicamp, blandly.
+
+“I know an authority, monsieur, which I trust is such as you will respect,” said Buckingham, placing his hand on his sword.
+
+At this moment, and as the goddess of Discord, inflaming all minds, was about to direct their swords against each other, Raoul gently placed his hand on Buckingham’s shoulder. “One word, my lord,” he said.
+
+“My right, my right, first of all,” exclaimed the fiery young man.
+
+“It is precisely upon that point I wish to have the honor of addressing a word to you.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur, but let your remarks be brief.”
+
+“One question is all I ask; you can hardly expect me to be briefer.”
+
+“Speak, monsieur, I am listening.”
+
+“Are you, or is the Duke of Orleans, going to marry the granddaughter of Henry IV.?”
+
+“What do you mean?” exclaimed Buckingham, retreating a few steps, bewildered.
+
+“Have the goodness to answer me,” persisted Raoul tranquilly.
+
+“Do you mean to ridicule me, monsieur?” inquired Buckingham.
+
+“Your question is a sufficient answer for me. You admit, then, that it is not you who are going to marry the princess?”
+
+“You know it perfectly well, monsieur, I should imagine.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, but your conduct has been such as to leave it not altogether certain.”
+
+“Proceed, monsieur, what do you mean to convey?”
+
+Raoul approached the duke. “Are you aware, my lord,” he said, lowering his voice, “that your extravagances very much resemble the excesses of jealousy? These jealous fits, with respect to any woman, are not becoming in one who is neither her lover nor her husband; and I am sure you will admit that my remark applies with still greater force, when the lady in question is a princess of the blood royal!”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed Buckingham, “do you mean to insult Madame Henrietta?”
+
+“Be careful, my lord,” replied Bragelonne, coldly, “for it is you who insult her. A little while since, when on board the admiral’s ship, you wearied the queen, and exhausted the admiral’s patience. I was observing, my lord; and, at first, I concluded you were not in possession of your senses, but I have since surmised the real significance of your madness.”
+
+“Monsieur!” exclaimed Buckingham.
+
+“One moment more, for I have yet another word to add. I trust I am the only one of my companions who has guessed it.”
+
+“Are you aware, monsieur,” said Buckingham, trembling with mingled feelings of anger and uneasiness, “are you aware that you are holding language towards me which requires to be checked?”
+
+“Weigh your words well, my lord,” said Raoul, haughtily; “my nature is not such that its vivacities need checking; whilst you, on the contrary, are descended from a race whose passions are suspected by all true Frenchmen; I repeat, therefore, for the second time, be careful!”
+
+“Careful of what, may I ask? Do you presume to threaten me?”
+
+“I am the son of the Comte de la Fere, my lord, and I never threaten, because I strike first. Therefore, understand me well, the threat that I hold out to you is this -- ”
+
+Buckingham clenched his hands, but Raoul continued, as though he had not observed the gesture. “At the very first word, beyond the respect and deference due to her royal highness, which you permit yourself to use towards her, -- be patient my lord, for I am perfectly so.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Undoubtedly. So long as Madame remained on English territory, I held my peace; but from the very moment she stepped on French ground, and now that we have received her in the name of the prince, I warn you, that at the first mark of disrespect which you, in your insane attachment, exhibit towards the royal house of France, I shall have one of two courses to follow; -- either I declare, in the presence of every one, the madness with which you are now affected, and I get you ignominiously ordered back to England; or if you prefer it, I will run my dagger through your throat in the presence of all here. This second alternative seems to me the least disagreeable, and I think I shall hold to it.”
+
+Buckingham had become paler than the lace collar around his neck. “M. de Bragelonne,” he said, “is it, indeed, a gentleman who is speaking to me?”
+
+“Yes; only the gentleman is speaking to a madman. Get cured, my lord, and he will hold quite another language to you.”
+
+“But, M. de Bragelonne,” murmured the duke, in a voice, half-choked, and putting his hand to his neck, -- “Do you not see I am choking?”
+
+“If your death were to take place at this moment, my lord,” replied Raoul, with unruffled composure, “I should, indeed, regard it as a great happiness, for this circumstance would prevent all kinds of evil remarks; not alone about yourself, but also about those illustrious persons whom your devotion is compromising in so absurd a manner.”
+
+“You are right, you are right,” said the young man, almost beside himself. “Yes, yes; better to die, than to suffer as I do at this moment.” And he grasped a beautiful dagger, the handle of which was inlaid with precious stones; and which he half drew from his breast.
+
+Raoul thrust his hand aside. “Be careful what you do,” he said; “if you do not kill yourself, you commit a ridiculous action; and if you were to kill yourself, you sprinkle blood upon the nuptial robe of the princess of England.”
+
+Buckingham remained a minute gasping for breath; during this interval, his lips quivered, his fingers worked convulsively, and his eyes wandered, as though in delirium. Then suddenly, he said, “M. de Bragelonne, I know nowhere a nobler mind than yours; you are, indeed, a worthy son of the most perfect gentleman that ever lived. Keep your tents.” And he threw his arms round Raoul’s neck. All who were present, astounded at this conduct, which was the very reverse of what was expected, considering the violence of the one adversary and the determination of the other, began immediately to clap their hands, and a thousand cheers and joyful shouts arose from all sides. De Guiche, in his turn, embraced Buckingham somewhat against his inclination; but, at all events, he did embrace him. This was the signal for French and English to do the same; and they who, until that moment, had looked at each other with restless uncertainty, fraternized on the spot. In the meantime, the procession of the princess arrived, and had it not been for Bragelonne, two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and blood would have been shed upon the flowers with which the ground was covered. At the appearance, however, of the banners borne at the head of the procession, complete order was restored.
+
+Chapter XI. Night.
+
+Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess; the French in return invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen; and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three; she appeared an object of worship. The queen-mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened before them. After the public entry was over, and the spectators in the streets had partially dispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the crowd could be heard only in the distance; when the night had closed in, wrapping with its star-covered mantle the sea, the harbor, the town, and surrounding country, De Guiche, still excited by the great events of the day, returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of the stools with so profound an expression of distress that Bragelonne kept his eyes fixed upon him, until he heard him sigh, and then he approached him. The count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs.
+
+“You are suffering?” asked Raoul.
+
+“Cruelly.”
+
+“Bodily, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes; bodily.”
+
+“This has indeed been a harassing day,” continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend.
+
+“Yes; a night’s rest will probably restore me.”
+
+“Shall I leave you?”
+
+“No; I wish to talk to you.”
+
+“You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first answered my questions.”
+
+“Proceed then.”
+
+“You will be frank with me?”
+
+“I always am.”
+
+“Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?”
+
+“I suspect.”
+
+“Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?”
+
+“One could almost swear to it, to observe him.”
+
+“You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind.”
+
+“It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day.”
+
+“You are a poet, my dear count, and find subjects for your muse everywhere.”
+
+“I can perceive love clearly enough.”
+
+“Where it does not exist?”
+
+“Nay, where it does exist.”
+
+“Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?”
+
+“I am convinced of what I say,” said the count.
+
+“Now, inform me, count,” said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him, “what happened to render you so clear-sighted.”
+
+Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered, “Self-love, I suppose.”
+
+“Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening.”
+
+“I am fatigued.”
+
+“Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; we have been on horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our horses dying from exhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneath us, and yet we have laughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to-night.”
+
+“It is annoyance, then.”
+
+“What annoyance?”
+
+“That of this evening.”
+
+“The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?”
+
+“Of course; is it not vexations for us, the representatives of our sovereign master, to witness the devotion of an Englishman to our future mistress, the second lady in point of rank in the kingdom?”
+
+“Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham.”
+
+“No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here, almost succeed in creating a disturbance between the English and ourselves; and, had it not been for you, for your admirable presence, for your singular decision of character, swords would have been drawn in the very streets of the town.”
+
+“You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics.”
+
+“Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice, what did you say to him? You think he loves her; you admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then!” De Guiche pronounced the latter with so marked an expression that Raoul raised his head. The noble character of the young man’s countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read.
+
+“What I said to him, count,” replied Raoul, “I will repeat to you. Listen to me. I said, ‘You are regarding with wistful feelings, and most injurious desire, the sister of your prince, -- her to whom you are not affianced, who is not, who can never be anything to you; you are outraging those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady to escort her to her husband.’”
+
+“You spoke to him in that manner?” asked Guiche, coloring.
+
+“In those very terms; I even added more. ‘How would you regard us,’ I said, ‘if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough, to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respect for a princess who is the destined wife of our master?’”
+
+These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turned pale, and, overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely able to stretch out one hand mechanically towards Raoul, as he covered his eyes and face with the other.
+
+“But,” continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, “Heaven be praised, the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless, even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. I added even more, for I said, ‘Learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France devote ourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing them our affections, as well as our fortunes and our lives; and whenever it may chance to happen that the tempter suggests one of those vile thoughts that set the heart on fire, we extinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by shedding our blood for the purpose. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved: our country’s, our master’s, and our own. It is thus that we act, your Grace; it is thus that every man of honor ought to act.’ In this manner, my dear Guiche,” continued Bragelonne, “I addressed the Duke of Buckingham; and he admitted I was right, and resigned himself unresistingly to my arguments.”
+
+De Guiche, who had hitherto sat leaning forward while Raoul was speaking, drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly; he seized Raoul’s hand, his face, which had been as cold as ice, seemed on fire. “And you spoke magnificently,” he said, in a half-choked voice; “you are indeed a friend, Raoul. But now, I entreat you, leave me to myself.”
+
+“Do you wish it?”
+
+“Yes; I need repose. Many things have agitated me to-day, both in mind and body; when you return to-morrow I shall no longer be the same man.”
+
+“I leave you, then,” said Raoul, as he withdrew. The count advanced a step towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms. But in this friendly pressure Raoul could detect the nervous agitation of a great internal conflict.
+
+The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest had passed away, and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace and security everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens, and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather, tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square in front of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the golden moonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones. Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble light still glimmered in Madame’s apartment, which looked out upon the square, and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of the calm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life’s anxieties, and in whom the flame of existence sinks placidly as sleep steals over the body.
+
+Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of a man curious to observe, but anxious not to be seen. Sheltered behind the thick curtains of his own tent, embracing with a glance the whole square, he noticed that, after a few moments’ pause, the curtains of De Guiche’s tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind them he could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyes, glittering in the obscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess’s sitting apartment, which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The soft light which illumined the windows was the count’s star. The fervent aspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealed in the shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts that established, between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of the princess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy -- a bond created by thoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will, that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon the perfumed couch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devoured so eagerly.
+
+But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. The window of one of the houses looking on the square was opened too, the casement of the house where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light which issued from this latter, the profile of the duke could be distinctly seen, as he indolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvet hangings; he also was breathing in the direction of the princess’s apartment his prayers and the wild visions of his love.
+
+Raoul could not resist smiling, as thinking of Madame, he said to himself, “Hers is, indeed, a heart well besieged;” and then added, compassionately, as he thought of Monsieur, “and he is a husband well threatened too; it is a good thing for him that he is a prince of such high rank, that he has an army to safeguard for him that which is his own.” Bragelonne watched for some time the conduct of the two lovers, listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers of Manicamp, who snored as imperiously as though he was wearing his blue and gold, instead of his violet suit.
+
+Then he turned towards the night breeze which bore towards him, he seemed to think, the distant song of the nightingale; and, after having laid in a due provision of melancholy, another nocturnal malady, he retired to rest thinking, with regard to his own love affair, that perhaps four or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent as those of De Guiche and Buckingham, were coveting his own idol in the chateau at Blois. “And Mademoiselle de Montalais is by no means a very conscientious garrison,” said he to himself, sighing aloud.
+
+Chapter XII. From Le Havre to Paris.
+
+The next day the fetes took place, accompanied by all the pomp and animation that the resources of the town and the cheerful disposition of men’s minds could supply. During the last few hours spent in Le Havre, every preparation for the departure had been made. After Madame had taken leave of the English fleet, and, once again, had saluted the country in saluting its flags, she entered her carriage, surrounded by a brilliant escort. De Guiche had hoped that the Duke of Buckingham would accompany the admiral to England; but Buckingham succeeded in demonstrating to the queen that there would be great impropriety in allowing Madame to proceed to Paris, almost unprotected. As soon as it had been settled that Buckingham was to accompany Madame, the young duke selected a corps of gentlemen and officers to form part of his own suite, so that it was almost an army that now set out towards Paris, scattering gold, and exciting the liveliest demonstrations as they passed through the different towns and villages on the route. The weather was very fine. France is a beautiful country, especially along the route by which the procession passed. Spring cast its flowers and its perfumed foliage on their path. Normandy, with its vast variety of vegetation, its blue skies and silver rivers, displayed itself in all the loveliness of a paradise to the new sister of the king. Fetes and brilliant displays received them everywhere along the line of march. De Guiche and Buckingham forgot everything; De Guiche in his anxiety to prevent any fresh attempts on the part of the duke, and Buckingham, in his desire to awaken in the heart of the princess a softer remembrance of the country to which the recollection of many happy days belonged. But, alas! the poor duke could perceive that the image of that country so cherished by himself became, from day to day, more and more effaced in Madame’s mind, in exact proportion as her affection for France became more deeply engraved on her heart. In fact, it was not difficult to perceive that his most devoted attention awakened no acknowledgement, and that the grace with which he rode one of his most fiery horses was thrown away, for it was only casually and by the merest accident that the princess’s eyes were turned towards him. In vain did he try, in order to fix upon himself one of those looks, which were thrown carelessly around, or bestowed elsewhere, to produce in the animal he rode its greatest display of strength, speed, temper and address; in vain did he, by exciting his horse almost to madness, spur him, at the risk of dashing himself in pieces against the trees, or of rolling in the ditches, over the gates and barriers which they passed, or down the steep declivities of the hills. Madame, whose attention had been aroused by the noise, turned her head for a moment to observe the cause of it, and then, slightly smiling, again entered into conversation with her faithful guardians, Raoul and De Guiche, who were quietly riding at her carriage doors. Buckingham felt himself a prey to all the tortures of jealousy; an unknown, unheard of anguish glided through his veins, and laid siege to his heart; and then, as if to show that he knew the folly of his conduct, and that he wished to correct, by the humblest submission, his flights of absurdity, he mastered his horse, and compelled him, reeking with sweat and flecked with foam, to champ his bit close beside the carriage, amidst the crowd of courtiers. Occasionally he obtained a word from Madame as a recompense, and yet her speech seemed almost a reproach.
+
+“That is well, my lord,” she said, “now you are reasonable.”
+
+Or from Raoul, “Your Grace is killing your horse.”
+
+Buckingham listened patiently to Raoul’s remarks, for he instinctively felt, without having had any proof that such was the case, that Raoul checked the display of De Guiche’s feelings, and that, had it not been for Raoul, some mad act or proceeding, either of the count, or of Buckingham himself, would have brought about an open rupture, or a disturbance -- perhaps even exile itself. From the moment of that excited conversation the two young men had held in front of the tents at Le Havre, when Raoul made the duke perceive the impropriety of his conduct, Buckingham felt himself attracted towards Raoul almost in spite of himself. He often entered into conversation with him, and it was nearly always to talk to him either of his father or of D’Artagnan, their mutual friend, in whose praise Buckingham was nearly as enthusiastic as Raoul. Raoul endeavored, as much as possible, to make the conversation turn upon this subject in De Wardes’s presence, who had, during the whole journey, been exceedingly annoyed at the superior position taken by Bragelonne, and especially by his influence over De Guiche. De Wardes had that keen and merciless penetration most evil natures possess; he had immediately remarked De Guiche’s melancholy, and divined the nature of his regard for the princess. Instead, however, of treating the subject with the same reserve which Raoul practiced; instead of regarding with that respect, which was their due, the obligations and duties of society, De Wardes resolutely attacked in the count the ever-sounding chord of juvenile audacity and pride. It happened one evening, during a halt at Mantes, that while De Guiche and De Wardes were leaning against a barrier, engaged in conversation, Buckingham and Raoul were also talking together as they walked up and down. Manicamp was engaged in devoted attendance on the princess, who already treated him without reserve, on account of his versatile fancy, his frank courtesy of manner, and conciliatory disposition.
+
+“Confess,” said De Wardes, “that you are really ill, and that your pedagogue of a friend has not succeeded in curing you.”
+
+“I do not understand you,” said the count.
+
+“And yet it is easy enough; you are dying of love.”
+
+“You are mad, De Wardes.”
+
+“Madness it would be, I admit, if Madame were really indifferent to your martyrdom; but she takes so much notice of it, observes it to such an extent, that she compromises herself, and I tremble lest, on our arrival at Paris, M. de Bragelonne may not denounce both of you.”
+
+“For shame, De Wardes, again attacking De Bragelonne.”
+
+“Come, come, a truce to child’s play,” replied the count’s evil genius, in an undertone; “you know as well as I do what I mean. Besides, you must have observed how the princess’s glance softens as she looks at you; -- you can tell, by the very inflection of her voice, what pleasure she takes in listening to you, and can feel how thoroughly she appreciates the verses you recite to her. You cannot deny, too, that every morning she tells you how indifferently she slept the previous night.”
+
+“True, De Wardes, quite true; but what good is there in your telling me all that?”
+
+“Is it not important to know the exact position of affairs?”
+
+“No, no; not when I am a witness of things that are enough to drive one mad.”
+
+“Stay, stay,” said De Wardes; “look, she calls you, -- do you understand? Profit by the occasion, while your pedagogue is absent.”
+
+De Guiche could not resist; an invincible attraction drew him towards the princess. De Wardes smiled as he saw him withdraw.
+
+“You are mistaken, monsieur,” said Raoul, suddenly stepping across the barrier against which the previous moment the two friends had been leaning. “The pedagogue is here, and has overheard you.”
+
+De Wardes, at the sound of Raoul’s voice, which he recognized without having occasion to look at him, half drew his sword.
+
+“Put up your sword,” said Raoul; “you know perfectly well that, until our journey is at an end, every demonstration of that nature is useless. Why do you distill into the heart of the man you term your friend all the bitterness that infects your own? As regards myself, you wish to arouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor -- my father’s friend and my own; and as for the count you wish him to love one who is destined for your master. Really, monsieur, I should regard you as a coward, and a traitor too, if I did not, with greater justice, regard you as a madman.”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed De Wardes, exasperated, “I was deceived, I find, in terming you a pedagogue. The tone you assume, and the style which is peculiarly your own, is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman. Discontinue, I beg, whenever I am present, this style I complain of, and the tone also. I hate M. d’Artagnan, because he was guilty of a cowardly act towards my father.”
+
+“You lie, monsieur,” said Raoul, coolly.
+
+“You give me the lie, monsieur?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“Why not, if what you assert is untrue?”
+
+“You give me the lie, and will not draw your sword?”
+
+“I have resolved, monsieur, not to kill you until Madame shall have been delivered safely into her husband’s hands.”
+
+“Kill me! Believe me, monsieur, your schoolmaster’s rod does not kill so easily.”
+
+“No,” replied Raoul, sternly, “but M. d’Artagnan’s sword kills; and, not only do I possess his sword, but he has himself taught me how to use it; and with that sword, when a befitting time arrives, I will avenge his name -- a name you have dishonored.”
+
+“Take care, monsieur,” exclaimed De Wardes; “if you do not immediately give me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revenge myself.”
+
+“Indeed, monsieur,” said Buckingham, suddenly, appearing upon the scene of action, “that is a threat which savors of assassination, and therefore, ill becomes a gentleman.”
+
+“What did you say, my lord?” said De Wardes, turning round towards him.
+
+“I said, monsieur, that the words you have just spoken are displeasing to my English ears.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur, if what you say is true,” exclaimed De Wardes, thoroughly incensed, “I at least find in you one who will not escape me. Understand my words as you like.”
+
+“I take them in the manner they cannot but be understood,” replied Buckingham, with that haughty tone which characterized him, and which, even in ordinary conversation, gave a tone of defiance to everything he said; “M. de Bragelonne is my friend, you insult M. de Bragelonne, and you shall give me satisfaction for that insult.”
+
+De Wardes cast a look upon De Bragelonne, who, faithful to the character he had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke’s defiance.
+
+“It would seem that I did not insult M. de Bragelonne, since M. de Bragelonne, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himself insulted.”
+
+“At all events you insult someone.”
+
+“Yes, I insulted M. d’Artagnan,” resumed De Wardes, who had observed that this was the only means of stinging Raoul, so as to awaken his anger.
+
+“That, then,” said Buckingham, “is another matter.”
+
+“Precisely so,” said De Wardes; “it is the province of M. d’Artagnan’s friends to defend him.”
+
+“I am entirely of your opinion,” replied the duke, who had regained all his indifference of manner; “if M. de Bragelonne were offended, I could not reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himself here; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M. d’Artagnan -- ”
+
+“You will of course leave me to deal with the matter,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword,” said Buckingham, unsheathing it as he spoke; “for if M. d’Artagnan injured your father, he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a great service to mine.”
+
+De Wardes was thunderstruck.
+
+“M. d’Artagnan,” continued Buckingham, “is the bravest gentleman I know. I shall be delighted, as I owe him many personal obligations, to settle them with you, by crossing my sword with yours.” At the same moment Buckingham drew his sword from its scabbard, saluted Raoul, and put himself on guard.
+
+De Wardes advanced a step to meet him.
+
+“Stay, gentlemen,” said Raoul, advancing towards them, and placing his own drawn sword between the combatants, “the affair is hardly worth the trouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess. M. de Wardes speaks ill of M. d’Artagnan, with whom he is not even acquainted.”
+
+“What, monsieur,” said De Wardes, setting his teeth hard together, and resting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot, “do you assert that I do not know M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Certainly not; you do not know him,” replied Raoul, coldly, “and you are even not aware where he is to be found.”
+
+“Not know where he is?”
+
+“Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him upon strangers, instead of seeking M. d’Artagnan where he is to be found.” De Wardes turned pale. “Well, monsieur,” continued Raoul, “I will tell you where M. d’Artagnan is: he is now in Paris; when on duty he is to be met with at the Louvre, -- when not on duty, in the Rue des Lombards. M. d’Artagnan can easily be discovered at either of those two places. Having, therefore, as you assert, so many causes of complaint against him, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunity of giving you that satisfaction you seem to ask of every one but of himself.” De Wardes passed his hand across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. “For shame, M. de Wardes! so quarrelsome a disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of the edicts against duels. Pray think of that; the king will be incensed at our disobedience, particularly at such a time, -- and his majesty will be in the right.”
+
+“Excuses,” murmured De Wardes; “mere pretexts.”
+
+“Really, M. De Wardes,” resumed Raoul, “such remarks are the idlest bluster. You know very well that the Duke of Buckingham is a man of undoubted courage, who has already fought ten duels, and will probably fight eleven. His name alone is significant enough. As far as I am concerned, you are well aware that I can fight also. I fought at Lens, at Bleneau, at the Dunes in front of the artillery, a hundred paces in front of the line, while you -- I say this parenthetically -- were a hundred paces behind it. True it is, that on that occasion there was far too great a concourse of persons present for your courage to be observed, and on that account perhaps you did not reveal it; while here, it would be a display, and would excite remark -- you wish that others should talk about you, in what manner you do not care. Do not depend upon me, M. de Wardes to assist you in your designs, for I shall certainly not afford you that pleasure.”
+
+“Sensibly observed,” said Buckingham, putting up his sword, “and I ask your forgiveness, M. de Bragelonne, for having allowed myself to yield to a first impulse.”
+
+De Wardes, however, on the contrary, perfectly furious, bounded forward and raised his sword, threateningly, against Raoul, who had scarcely enough time to put himself in a posture of defense.
+
+“Take care, monsieur,” said Bragelonne, tranquilly, “or you will put out one of my eyes.”
+
+“You will not fight, then?” said De Wardes.
+
+“Not at this moment; but this I promise to do; immediately on our arrival at Paris I will conduct you to M. d’Artagnan, to whom you shall detail all the causes of complaint you have against him. M d’Artagnan will solicit the king’s permission to measure swords with you. The king will yield his consent, and when you shall have received the sword-thrust in due course, you will consider, in a calmer frame of mind, the precepts of the Gospel, which enjoin forgetfulness of injuries.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed De Wardes, furious at this imperturbable coolness, “one can clearly see you are half a bastard, M. de Bragelonne.”
+
+Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning, causing De Wardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham, also, who had perceived their expression, threw himself between the two adversaries, whom he had expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes had reserved this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in his hand, and awaited the encounter. “You are right, monsieur,” said Raoul, mastering his emotion, “I am only acquainted with my father’s name; but I know too well that the Comte de la Fere is too upright and honorable a man to allow me to fear for a single moment that there is, as you insinuate, any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of my mother’s name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach. You are deficient in loyalty of conduct; you are wanting in courtesy, in reproaching me with misfortune. It matters little, however, the insult has been given, and I consider myself insulted accordingly. It is quite understood, then, that after you shall have received satisfaction from M. d’Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me.”
+
+“I admire your prudence, monsieur,” replied De Wardes with a bitter smile; “a little while ago you promised me a sword-thrust from M. d’Artagnan, and now, after I shall have received his, you offer me one from yourself.”
+
+“Do not disturb yourself,” replied Raoul, with concentrated anger; “in all affairs of that nature, M. d’Artagnan is exceedingly skillful, and I will beg him as a favor to treat you as he did your father; in other words, to spare your life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure, after your recovery, of killing you outright; for you have the heart of a viper, M. de Wardes, and in very truth, too many precautions cannot be taken against you.”
+
+“I shall take my precautions against you,” said De Wardes, “be assured of it.”
+
+“Allow me, monsieur,” said Buckingham, “to translate your remark by a piece of advice I am about to give M. de Bragelonne; M. de Bragelonne, wear a cuirass.”
+
+De Wardes clenched his hands. “Ah!” said he, “you two gentlemen intend to wait until you have taken that precaution before you measure your swords against mine.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur,” said Raoul, “since you positively will have it so, let us settle the affair now.” And, drawing his sword, he advanced towards De Wardes.
+
+“What are you going to do?” said Buckingham.
+
+“Be easy,” said Raoul, “it will not be very long.”
+
+De Wardes placed himself on his guard; their swords crossed. De Wardes flew upon Raoul with such impetuosity, that at the first clashing of the steel blades Buckingham clearly saw that Raoul was only trifling with his adversary. Buckingham stepped aside, and watched the combat. Raoul was as calm as if he were handling a foil instead of a sword; having retreated a step, he parried three or four fierce thrusts which De Wardes made at him, caught the sword of the latter with within his own, and sent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as De Wardes stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat, Raoul sheathed his sword, seized him by the collar and the waist band, and hurled his adversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with rage.
+
+“We shall meet again,” murmured De Wardes, rising from the ground and picking up his sword.
+
+“I have done nothing for the last hour,” said Raoul, rising from the ground, “but say the same thing.” Then, turning towards the duke, he said, “I entreat you to be silent about this affair; I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my anger carried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it; -- forget it, too.”
+
+“Dear viscount,” said the duke, pressing with his own the vigorous and valiant hand of his companion, “allow me, on the contrary, to remember it, and to look after your safety; that man is dangerous, -- he will kill you.”
+
+“My father,” replied Raoul, “lived for twenty years under the menace of a much more formidable enemy, and he still lives.”
+
+“Your father had good friends, viscount.”
+
+“Yes,” sighed Raoul, “such friends, indeed, that none are now left like them.”
+
+“Do not say that, I beg, at the very moment I offer you my friendship;” and Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Raoul, who delightedly received the proffered alliance. “In my family,” added Buckingham, “you are aware, M. de Bragelonne, we die to save our friends.”
+
+“I know it well, duke,” replied Raoul.
+
+Chapter XIII. An Account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine Thought of Madame.
+
+Nothing further interrupted the journey. Under a pretext that was little remarked, M. de Wardes went forward in advance of the others. He took Manicamp with him, for his equable and dreamy disposition acted as a counterpoise to his own. It is a subject of remark, that quarrelsome and restless characters invariably seek the companionship of gentle, timorous dispositions, as if the former sought, in the contrast, a repose for their own ill-humor, and the latter a protection for their weakness. Buckingham and Bragelonne, admitting De Guiche into their friendship, in concert with him, sang the praises of the princess during the whole of the journey. Bragelonne, had, however, insisted that their three voices should be in concert, instead of singing in solo parts, as De Guiche and his rival seemed to have acquired a dangerous habit of doing. This style of harmony pleased the queen-mother exceedingly, but it was not perhaps so agreeable to the young princess, who was an incarnation of coquetry, and who, without any fear as far as her own voice was concerned, sought opportunities of so perilously distinguishing herself. She possessed one of those fearless and incautious dispositions that find gratification in an excess of sensitiveness of feeling, and for whom, also, danger has a certain fascination. And so her glances, her smiles, her toilette, an inexhaustible armory of weapons of offense, were showered on the three young men with overwhelming force; and, from her well-stored arsenal issued glances, kindly recognitions, and a thousand other little charming attentions which were intended to strike at long range the gentlemen who formed the escort, the townspeople, the officers of the different cities she passed through, pages, populace, and servants; it was wholesale slaughter, a general devastation. By the time Madame arrived at Paris, she had reduced to slavery about a hundred thousand lovers: and brought in her train to Paris half a dozen men who were almost mad about her, and two who were, indeed, literally out of their minds. Raoul was the only person who divined the power of this woman’s attraction, and as his heart was already engaged, he arrived in the capital full of indifference and distrust. Occasionally during the journey he conversed with the queen of England respecting the power of fascination which Madame possessed, and the mother, whom so many misfortunes and deceptions had taught experience, replied: “Henrietta was sure to be illustrious in one way or another, whether born in a palace or born in obscurity; for she is a woman of great imagination, capricious and self-willed.” De Wardes and Manicamp, in their self-assumed character of courtiers, had announced the princess’s arrival. The procession was met at Nanterre by a brilliant escort of cavaliers and carriages. It was Monsieur himself, followed by the Chevalier de Lorraine and by his favorites, the latter being themselves followed by a portion of the king’s military household, who had arrived to meet his affianced bride. At St. Germain, the princess and her mother had changed their heavy traveling carriage, somewhat impaired by the journey, for a light, richly decorated chariot drawn by six horses with white and gold harness. Seated in this open carriage, as though upon a throne, and beneath a parasol of embroidered silk, fringed with feathers, sat the young and lovely princess, on whose beaming face were reflected the softened rose-tints which suited her delicate skin to perfection. Monsieur, on reaching the carriage, was struck by her beauty; he showed his admiration in so marked a manner that the Chevalier de Lorraine shrugged his shoulders as he listened to his compliments, while Buckingham and De Guiche were almost heart-broken. After the usual courtesies had been rendered, and the ceremony completed, the procession slowly resumed the road to Paris. The presentations had been carelessly made, and Buckingham, with the rest of the English gentlemen, had been introduced to Monsieur, from whom they had received but very indifferent attention. But, during their progress, as he observed that the duke devoted himself with his accustomed eagerness to the carriage-door, he asked the Chevalier de Lorraine, his inseparable companion, “Who is that cavalier?”
+
+“He was presented to your highness a short while ago; it is the handsome Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Ah, yes, I remember.”
+
+“Madame’s knight,” added the favorite, with an inflection of the voice which envious minds can alone give to the simplest phrases.
+
+“What do you say?” replied the prince.
+
+“I said ‘Madame’s knight’.”
+
+“Has she a recognized knight, then?”
+
+“One would think you can judge of that for yourself; look, only, how they are laughing and flirting. All three of them.”
+
+“What do you mean by all three?”
+
+“Do you not see that De Guiche is one of the party?”
+
+“Yes, I see. But what does that prove?”
+
+“That Madame has two admirers instead of one.”
+
+“You poison the simplest thing!”
+
+“I poison nothing. Ah! your royal highness’s mind is perverted. The honors of the kingdom of France are being paid to your wife and you are not satisfied.”
+
+The Duke of Orleans dreaded the satirical humor of the Chevalier de Lorraine whenever it reached a certain degree of bitterness, and he changed the conversation abruptly. “The princess is pretty,” said he, very negligently, as if he were speaking of a stranger.
+
+“Yes,” replied the chevalier, in the same tone.
+
+“You say ‘yes’ like a ‘no’. She has very beautiful black eyes.”
+
+“Yes, but small.”
+
+“That is so, but they are brilliant. She is tall, and of a good figure.”
+
+“I fancy she stoops a little, my lord.”
+
+“I do not deny it. She has a noble appearance.”
+
+“Yes, but her face is thin.”
+
+“I thought her teeth beautiful.”
+
+“They can easily be seen, for her mouth is large enough. Decidedly, I was wrong, my lord; you are certainly handsomer than your wife.”
+
+“But do you think me as handsome as Buckingham?”
+
+“Certainly, and he thinks so, too; for look, my lord, he is redoubling his attentions to Madame to prevent your effacing the impression he has made.”
+
+Monsieur made a movement of impatience, but as he noticed a smile of triumph pass across the chevalier’s lips, he drew up his horse to a foot-pace. “Why,” said he, “should I occupy myself any longer about my cousin? Do I not already know her? Were we not brought up together? Did I not see her at the Louvre when she was quite a child?”
+
+“A great change has taken place in her since then, prince. At the period you allude to, she was somewhat less brilliant, and scarcely so proud, either. One evening, particularly, you may remember, my lord, the king refused to dance with her, because he thought her plain and badly dressed!”
+
+These words made the Duke of Orleans frown. It was by no means flattering for him to marry a princess of whom, when young, the king had not thought much. He would probably have retorted, but at this moment De Guiche quitted the carriage to join the prince. He had remarked the prince and the chevalier together, and full of anxious attention he seemed to try and guess the nature of the remarks which they had just exchanged. The chevalier, whether he had some treacherous object in view, or from imprudence, did not take the trouble to dissimulate. “Count,” he said, “you’re a man of excellent taste.”
+
+“Thank you for the compliment,” replied De Guiche; “but why do you say that?”
+
+“Well I appeal to his highness.”
+
+“No doubt of it,” said Monsieur; “and Guiche knows perfectly well that I regard him as a most finished cavalier.”
+
+“Well, since that is decided, I resume. You have been in the princess’s society, count, for the last eight days, have you not?”
+
+“Yes,” replied De Guiche, coloring in spite of himself.
+
+“Well then, tell us frankly, what do you think of her personal appearance?”
+
+“Of her personal appearance?” returned De Guiche, stupefied.
+
+“Yes; of her appearance, of her mind, of herself, in fact.”
+
+Astounded by this question, De Guiche hesitated answering.
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche,” resumed the chevalier, laughingly, “tell us your opinion frankly; the prince commands it.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the prince, “be frank.”
+
+De Guiche stammered out a few unintelligible words.
+
+“I am perfectly well aware,” returned Monsieur, “that the subject is a delicate one, but you know you can tell me everything. What do you think of her?”
+
+In order to avoid betraying his real thoughts, De Guiche had recourse to the only defense which a man taken by surprise really has, and accordingly told an untruth. “I do not find Madame,” he said, “either good or bad looking, yet rather good than bad looking.”
+
+“What! count,” exclaimed the chevalier, “you who went into such ecstasies and uttered so many exclamations at the sight of her portrait.”
+
+De Guiche colored violently. Very fortunately, his horse, which was slightly restive, enabled him by a sudden plunge to conceal his agitation. “What portrait?” he murmured, joining them again. The chevalier had not taken his eyes off him.
+
+“Yes, the portrait. Was not the miniature a good likeness?”
+
+“I do not remember. I had forgotten the portrait; it quite escaped my recollection.”
+
+“And yet it made a very marked impression upon you,” said the chevalier.
+
+“That is not unlikely.”
+
+“Is she witty, at all events?” inquired the duke.
+
+“I believe so, my lord.”
+
+“Is M. de Buckingham witty, too?” said the chevalier.
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+“My own opinion is that he must be,” replied the chevalier, “for he makes Madame laugh, and she seems to take no little pleasure in his society, which never happens to a clever woman when in the company of a simpleton.”
+
+“Of course, then, he must be clever,” said De Guiche, simply.
+
+At this moment Raoul opportunely arrived, seeing how De Guiche was pressed by his dangerous questioner, to whom he addressed a remark, and in that way changed the conversation. The entree was brilliant and joyous.
+
+The king, in honor of his brother, had directed that the festivities should be on a scale of the greatest possible magnificence. Madame and her mother alighted at the Louvre, where, during their exile they had so gloomily submitted to obscurity, misery, and privations of every description. That palace, which had been so inhospitable a residence for the unhappy daughter of Henry IV., the naked walls, the uneven floorings, the ceilings matted with cobwebs, the vast dilapidated chimney-places, the cold hearths on which the charity extended to them by parliament hardly permitted a fire to glow, was completely altered in appearance. The richest hangings and the thickest carpets, glistening flagstones, and pictures, with their richly gilded frames; in every direction could be seen candelabra, mirrors, and furniture and fittings of the most sumptuous character; in every direction, also, were guards of the proudest military bearing, with floating plumes, crowds of attendants and courtiers in the ante-chambers and upon the staircases. In the courtyards, where the grass had formerly been allowed to luxuriate, as if the ungrateful Mazarin had thought it a good idea to let the Parisians perceive the solitude and disorder were, with misery and despair, the fit accompaniments of fallen monarchy; the immense courtyards, formerly silent and desolate, were now thronged with courtiers whose horses were pacing and prancing to and fro. The carriages were filled with young and beautiful women, who awaited the opportunity of saluting, as she passed, the daughter of that daughter of France who, during her widowhood and exile, had sometimes gone without wood for her fire, and bread for her table, whom the meanest attendant at the chateau had treated with indifference and contempt. And so, the Madame Henriette once more returned to the Louvre, with her heart more swollen with bitter recollections than her daughter’s, whose disposition was fickle and forgetful, with triumph and delight. She knew but too well this brilliant reception was paid to the happy mother of a king restored to his throne, a throne second to none in Europe, while the worse than indifferent reception she had before met with was paid to her, the daughter of Henry IV., as a punishment for having been unfortunate. After the princess had been installed in their apartments and had rested, the gentlemen who had formed their escort, having, in like manner, recovered from their fatigue, they resumed their accustomed habits and occupations. Raoul began by setting off to see his father, who had left for Blois. He then tried to see M. d’Artagnan, who, however, being engaged in the organization of a military household for the king, could not be found anywhere. Bragelonne next sought out De Guiche, but the count was occupied in a long conference with his tailors and with Manicamp, which consumed his whole time. With the Duke of Buckingham he fared still worse, for the duke was purchasing horses after horses, diamonds upon diamonds. He monopolized every embroiderer, jeweler, and tailor that Paris could boast of. Between De Guiche and himself a vigorous contest ensued, invariably a courteous one, in which, in order to insure success, the duke was ready to spend a million; while the Marechal de Gramont had only allowed his son sixty thousand francs. So Buckingham laughed and spent his money. Guiche groaned in despair, and would have shown it more violently, had it not been for the advice De Bragelonne gave him.
+
+“A million!” repeated De Guiche daily; “I must submit. Why will not the marechal advance me a portion of my patrimony?”
+
+“Because you would throw it away,” said Raoul.
+
+“What can that matter to him? If I am to die of it, I shall die of it, and then I shall need nothing further.”
+
+“But what need is there to die?” said Raoul.
+
+“I do not wish to be conquered in elegance by an Englishman.”
+
+“My dear count,” said Manicamp, “elegance is not a costly commodity, it is only a very difficult accomplishment.”
+
+“Yes, but difficult things cost a good deal of money, and I have only got sixty thousand francs.”
+
+“A very embarrassing state of things, truly,” said De Wardes; “even if you spent as much as Buckingham, there is only nine hundred and forty thousand francs difference.”
+
+“Where am I to find them?”
+
+“Get into debt.”
+
+“I am in debt already.”
+
+“A greater reason for getting further.”
+
+Advice like this resulted in De Guiche becoming excited to such an extent that he committed extravagances where Buckingham only incurred expenses. The rumor of this extravagant profuseness delighted the hearts of all the shopkeepers in Paris; from the hotel of the Duke of Buckingham to that of the Comte de Gramont nothing but miracles was attempted. While all this was going on, Madame was resting herself, and Bragelonne was engaged in writing to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. He had already dispatched four letters, and not an answer to any one of them had been received, when, on the very morning fixed for the marriage ceremony, which was to take place in the chapel at the Palais Royal, Raoul, who was dressing, heard his valet announce M. de Malicorne. “What can this Malicorne want with me?” thought Raoul; and then said to his valet, “Let him wait.”
+
+“It is a gentleman from Blois,” said the valet.
+
+“Admit him at once,” said Raoul, eagerly.
+
+Malicorne entered as brilliant as a star, and wearing a superb sword at his side. After having saluted Raoul most gracefully, he said: “M. de Bragelonne, I am the bearer of a thousand compliments from a lady to you.”
+
+Raoul colored. “From a lady,” said he, “from a lady of Blois?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur; from Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Thank you, monsieur; I recollect you now,” said Raoul. “And what does Mademoiselle de Montalais require of me.”
+
+Malicorne drew four letters from his pocket, which he offered to Raoul.
+
+“My own letters, is it possible?” he said, turning pale; “my letters, and the seals unbroken?”
+
+“Monsieur, your letters did not find at Blois the person to whom they were addressed, and so they are now returned to you.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere has left Blois, then?” exclaimed Raoul.
+
+“Eight days ago.”
+
+“Where is she, then?”
+
+“In Paris.”
+
+“How is it known that these letters were from me?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Montalais recognized your handwriting and your seal,” said Malicorne.
+
+Raoul colored and smiled. “Mademoiselle de Montalais is exceedingly amiable,” he said; “she is always kind and charming.”
+
+“Always, monsieur.”
+
+“Surely she could have given me some precise information about Mademoiselle de la Valliere. I never could find her in this immense city.”
+
+Malicorne drew another packet from his pocket. “You may possibly find in this letter what you are anxious to learn.”
+
+Raoul hurriedly broke the seal. The writing was that of Mademoiselle Aure, and inclosed were these words: -- “Paris, Palais Royal. The day of the nuptial blessing.”
+
+“What does this mean?” inquired Raoul of Malicorne; “you probably know?”
+
+“I do, monsieur.”
+
+“For pity’s sake, tell me, then.”
+
+“Impossible, monsieur.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because Mademoiselle Aure has forbidden me to do so.”
+
+Raoul looked at his strange visitor, and remained silent; -- “At least, tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate.”
+
+“That you will see.”
+
+“You are very severe in your reservations.”
+
+“Will you grant me one favor, monsieur?” said Malicorne.
+
+“In exchange for that you refuse me?”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticket to admit me, in spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one. Could you get me admitted?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Do me this kindness, then, I entreat.”
+
+“Most willingly, monsieur; come with me.”
+
+“I am exceedingly indebted to you, monsieur,” said Malicorne.
+
+“I thought you were a friend of M. de Manicamp.”
+
+“I am, monsieur; but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, and I let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at me sword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is the reason I could not ask him for a ticket. He wanted to kill me.”
+
+“I can well believe it,” laughed Raoul. “I know Manicamp is capable of killing a man who has been unfortunate enough to commit the crime you have to reproach yourself with, but I will repair the mischief as far as you are concerned. I will but fasten my cloak, and shall then be ready to serve you, not only as a guide, but as your introducer, too.”
+
+Chapter XIV. A Surprise for Raoul.
+
+Madame’s marriage was celebrated in the chapel of the Palais Royal, in the presence of a crowd of courtiers, who had been most scrupulously selected. However, notwithstanding the marked favor which an invitation indicated, Raoul, faithful to his promise to Malicorne, who was so anxious to witness the ceremony, obtained admission for him. After he had fulfilled this engagement, Raoul approached De Guiche, who, as if in contrast with his magnificent costume, exhibited a countenance so utterly dejected, that the Duke of Buckingham was the only one present who could contend with him as far as pallor and discomfiture were concerned.
+
+“Take care, count,” said Raoul, approaching his friend, and preparing to support him at the moment the archbishop blessed the married couple. In fact, the Prince of Conde was attentively scrutinizing these two images of desolation, standing like caryatides on either side of the nave of the church. The count, after that, kept a more careful watch over himself.
+
+At the termination of the ceremony, the king and queen passed onward towards the grand reception-room, where Madame and her suite were to be presented to them. It was remarked that the king, who had seemed more than surprised at his sister-in-law’s appearance, was most flattering in his compliments to her. Again, it was remarked that the queen-mother, fixing a long and thoughtful gaze upon Buckingham, leaned towards Madame de Motteville as though to ask her, “Do you not see how much he resembles his father?” and finally it was remarked that Monsieur watched everybody, and seemed quite discontented. After the reception of the princess and ambassadors, Monsieur solicited the king’s permission to present to him as well as to Madame the persons belonging to their new household.
+
+“Are you aware, vicomte,” inquired the Prince de Conde of Raoul, “whether the household has been selected by a person of taste, and whether there are any faces worth looking at?”
+
+“I have not the slightest idea, monseigneur,” replied Raoul.
+
+“You affect ignorance, surely.”
+
+“In what way, monseigneur?”
+
+“You are a friend of De Guiche, who is one of the friends of the prince.”
+
+“That may be so, monseigneur; but the matter having no interest whatever for me, I have never questioned De Guiche on the subject; and De Guiche, on his part, never having been questioned, did not communicate any particulars to me.”
+
+“But Manicamp?”
+
+“It is true I saw Manicamp at Le Havre, and during the journey here, but I was no more inquisitive with him than I had been towards De Guiche. Besides, is it likely that Manicamp should know anything of such matters? for he is a person of only secondary importance.”
+
+“My dear vicomte, do you not know better than that?” said the prince; “why, it is these persons of secondary importance, who, on such occasions, have all the influence; and the truth is, that nearly everything has been done through Manicamp’s presentations to De Guiche, and through De Guiche to Monsieur.”
+
+“I assure you, monseigneur, I was ignorant of that,” said Raoul, “and what your highness does me the honor to impart is perfectly new to me.”
+
+“I will most readily believe you, although it seems incredible; besides we shall not have long to wait. See, the flying squadron is advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Ah! ah! what pretty faces!”
+
+A bevy of young girls at this moment entered the salon, conducted by Madame de Navailles, and to Manicamp’s credit be it said, if indeed he had taken that part in their selection which the Prince de Conde assigned him, it was a display calculated to dazzle those who, like the prince, could appreciate every character and style of beauty. A young, fair-complexioned girl, from twenty to one-and-twenty years of age, and whose large blue eyes flashed, as she opened them, in the most dazzling manner, walked at the head of the band and was the first presented.
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente,” said Madame de Navailles to Monsieur, who, as he saluted his wife, repeated “Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the Prince de Conde to Raoul, “she is presentable enough.”
+
+“Yes,” said Raoul, “but has she not a somewhat haughty style?”
+
+“Bah! we know these airs very well, vicomte; three months hence she will be tame enough. But look, there, indeed, is a pretty face.”
+
+“Yes,” said Raoul, “and one I am acquainted with.”
+
+“Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais,” said Madame de Navailles. The name and Christian name were carefully repeated by Monsieur.
+
+“Great heavens!” exclaimed Raoul, fixing his bewildered gaze upon the entrance doorway.
+
+“What’s the matter?” inquired the prince; “was it Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais who made you utter such a ‘Great heavens’?”
+
+“No, monseigneur, no,” replied Raoul, pale and trembling.
+
+“Well, then, if it be not Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, it is that pretty blonde who follows her. What beautiful eyes! She is rather thin, but has fascinations without number.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere!” said Madame de Navailles; and, as this name resounded through his whole being, a cloud seemed to rise from his breast to his eyes, so that he neither saw nor heard anything more; and the prince, finding him nothing more than a mere echo which remained silent under his railleries, moved forward to inspect somewhat closer the beautiful girls whom his first glance had already particularized.
+
+“Louise here! Louise a maid of honor to Madame!” murmured Raoul, and his eyes, which did not suffice to satisfy his reason, wandered from Louise to Montalais. The latter had already emancipated herself from her assumed timidity, which she only needed for the presentation and for her reverences.
+
+Mademoiselle de Montalais, from the corner of the room to which she had retired, was looking with no slight confidence at the different persons present; and, having discovered Raoul, she amused herself with the profound astonishment which her own and her friend’s presence there caused the unhappy lover. Her waggish and malicious look, which Raoul tried to avoid meeting, and which yet he sought inquiringly from time to time, placed him on the rack. As for Louise, whether from natural timidity, or some other reason for which Raoul could not account, she kept her eyes constantly cast down; intimidated, dazzled, and with impeded respiration, she withdrew herself as much as possible aside, unaffected even by the nudges Montalais gave her with her elbow. The whole scene was a perfect enigma for Raoul, the key to which he would have given anything to obtain. But no one was there who could assist him, not even Malicorne; who, a little uneasy at finding himself in the presence of so many persons of good birth, and not a little discouraged by Montalais’s bantering glances, had described a circle, and by degrees succeeded in getting a few paces from the prince, behind the group of maids of honor, and nearly within reach of Mademoiselle Aure’s voice, she being the planet around which he, as her attendant satellite, seemed constrained to gravitate. As he recovered his self-possession, Raoul fancied he recognized voices on his right hand side that were familiar to him, and he perceived De Wardes, De Guiche, and the Chevalier de Lorraine conversing together. It is true they were talking in tones so low, that the sound of their words could hardly be heard in the vast apartment. To speak in that manner from any particular place without bending down, or turning round, or looking at the person with whom one may be engaged in conversation, is a talent that cannot be immediately acquired by newcomers. Long study is needed for such conversations, which, without a look, gesture, or movement of the head, seem like the conversation of a group of statues. In fact, the king’s and queen’s grand assemblies, while their majesties were speaking, and while every one present seemed to be listening in the midst of the most profound silence, some of these noiseless conversations took place, in which adulation was not the prevailing feature. But Raoul was one among others exceedingly clever in this art, so much a matter of etiquette, that from the movement of the lips, he was often able to guess the sense of the words.
+
+“Who is that Montalais?” inquired De Wardes, “and that La Valliere? What country-town have we had sent here?”
+
+“Montalais?” said the chevalier, -- “oh, I know her; she is a good sort of girl, whom we shall find amusing enough. La Valliere is a charming girl, slightly lame.”
+
+“Ah! bah!” said De Wardes.
+
+“Do not be absurd, De Wardes, there are some very characteristic and ingenious Latin axioms about lame ladies.”
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said De Guiche, looking at Raoul with uneasiness, “be a little careful, I entreat you.”
+
+But the uneasiness of the count, in appearance at least, was not needed. Raoul had preserved the firmest and most indifferent countenance, although he had not lost a word that passed. He seemed to keep an account of the insolence and license of the two speakers in order to settle matters with them at the earliest opportunity.
+
+De Wardes seemed to guess what was passing in his mind, and continued:
+
+“Who are these young ladies’ lovers?”
+
+“Montalais’s lover?” said the chevalier.
+
+“Yes, Montalais first.”
+
+“You, I, or De Guiche, -- whoever likes, in fact.”
+
+“And the other?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Take care, gentlemen,” exclaimed De Guiche, anxious to put a stop to the chevalier’s reply; “take care, Madame is listening to us.”
+
+Raoul had thrust his hand up to the wrist into his justaucorps in great agitation. But the very malignity which he saw was excited against these poor girls made him take a serious resolution. “Poor Louise,” he thought, “has come here only with an honorable object in view, and under honorable protection; and I must learn what that object is which she has in view, and who it is that protects her.” And following Malicorne’s maneuver, he made his way toward the group of the maids of honor. The presentations were soon over. The king, who had done nothing but look at and admire Madame, shortly afterwards left the reception-room, accompanied by the two queens. The Chevalier de Lorraine resumed his place beside Monsieur, and, as he accompanied him, insinuated a few drops of the venom he had collected during the last hour, while looking at some of the faces in the court, and suspecting that some of their hearts might be happy. A few of the persons present followed the king as he quitted the apartment; but such of the courtiers as assumed an independence of character, and professed a gallantry of disposition, began to approach the ladies of the court. The prince paid his compliments to Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, Buckingham devoted himself to Madame Chalais and Mademoiselle de Lafayette, whom Madame already distinguished by her notice, and whom she held in high regard. As for the Comte de Guiche, who had abandoned Monsieur as soon as he could approach Madame alone, he conversed, with great animation, with Madame de Valentinois, and with Mademoiselle de Crequy and de Chatillon.
+
+Amid these varied political, and amorous interests, Malicorne was anxious to gain Montalais’s attention; but the latter preferred talking with Raoul, even if it were only to amuse herself with his innumerable questions and his astonishment. Raoul had gone directly to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and had saluted her with the profoundest respect, at which Louise blushed, and could not say a word. Montalais, however, hurried to her assistance.
+
+“Well, monsieur le vicomte, here we are, you see.”
+
+“I do, indeed, see you,” said Raoul smiling, “and it is exactly because you are here that I wish to ask for some explanation.”
+
+Malicorne approached the group with his most fascinating smile.
+
+“Go away, Malicorne; really you are exceedingly indiscreet.” At this remark Malicorne bit his lips and retired a few steps, without making any reply. His smile, however, changed its expression, and from its former frankness, became mocking in its expression.
+
+“You wished for an explanation, M. Raoul?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“It is surely worth one, I think; Mademoiselle de la Valliere is a maid of honor to Madame!”
+
+“Why should she not be a maid of honor, as well as myself?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“Pray accept my compliments, young ladies,” said Raoul, who fancied he perceived they were not disposed to answer him in a direct manner.
+
+“Your remark was not made in a very complimentary manner, vicomte.”
+
+“Mine?”
+
+“Certainly; I appeal to Louise.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne probably thinks the position is above my condition,” said Louise, hesitatingly.
+
+“Assuredly not,” replied Raoul, eagerly, “you know very well that such is not my feeling; were you called upon to occupy a queen’s throne, I should not be surprised; how much greater reason, then, such a position as this? The only circumstance that amazes me is, that I should have learned it only to-day, and that by the merest accident.”
+
+“That is true,” replied Montalais, with her usual giddiness; “you know nothing about it, and there is no reason you should. M. de Bragelonne had written several letters to you, but your mother was the only person who remained behind at Blois, and it was necessary to prevent these letters from falling into her hands; I intercepted them, and returned them to M. Raoul, so that he believed you were still at Blois while you were here in Paris, and had no idea whatever, indeed, how high you had risen in rank.”
+
+“Did you not inform M. Raoul, as I begged you to do?”
+
+“Why should I? to give him opportunity of making some of his severe remarks and moral reflections, and to undo what we have had so much trouble in effecting? Certainly not.”
+
+“Am I so very severe, then?” said Raoul, inquiringly.
+
+“Besides,” said Montalais, “it is sufficient to say that it suited me. I was about setting off for Paris -- you were away; Louise was weeping her eyes out; interpret that as you please; I begged a friend, a protector of mine, who had obtained the appointment for me, to solicit one for Louise; the appointment arrived. Louise left in order to get her costume prepared; as I had my own ready, I remained behind; I received your letters, and returned them to you, adding a few words, promising you a surprise. Your surprise is before you, monsieur, and seems to be a fair one enough; you have nothing more to ask. Come, M. Malicorne, it is now time to leave these young people together: they have many things to talk about; give me your hand; I trust that you appreciate the honor conferred upon you, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Forgive me,” said Raoul, arresting the giddy girl, and giving to his voice an intonation, the gravity of which contrasted with that of Montalais; “forgive me, but may I inquire the name of the protector you speak of; for if protection be extended towards you, Mademoiselle de Montalais, -- for which, indeed, so many reasons exist,” added Raoul, bowing, “I do not see that the same reasons exist why Mademoiselle de la Valliere should be similarly cared for.”
+
+“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, innocently, “there is no difference in the matter, and I do not see why I should not tell it you myself; it was M. Malicorne who obtained it for me.”
+
+Raoul remained for a moment almost stupefied, asking himself if they were trifling with him; he then turned round to interrogate Malicorne, but he had been hurried away by Montalais, and was already at some distance from them. Mademoiselle de la Valliere attempted to follow her friend, but Raoul, with gentle authority, detained her.
+
+“Louise, one word, I beg.”
+
+“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, blushing, “we are alone. Every one has left. They will become anxious, and will be looking for us.”
+
+“Fear nothing,” said the young man, smiling, “we are neither of us of sufficient importance for our absence to be remarked.”
+
+“But I have my duty to perform, M. Raoul.”
+
+“Do not be alarmed, I am acquainted with these usages of the court; you will not be on duty until to-morrow; a few minutes are at your disposal, which will enable you to give me the information I am about to have the honor to ask you for.”
+
+“How serious you are, M. Raoul!” said Louise.
+
+“Because the circumstances are serious. Are you listening?”
+
+“I am listening; I would only repeat, monsieur, that we are quite alone.”
+
+“You are right,” said Raoul, and, offering her his hand, he led the young girl into the gallery adjoining the reception-room, the windows of which looked out upon the courtyard. Every one hurried towards the middle window, which had a balcony outside, from which all the details of the slow and formal preparations for departure could be seen. Raoul opened one of the side windows, and then, being alone with Louise, said to her: “You know, Louise, that from my childhood I have regarded you as my sister, as one who has been the confidante of all my troubles, to whom I have entrusted all my hopes.”
+
+“Yes, M. Raoul,” she answered softly; “yes, M. Raoul, I know that.”
+
+“You used, on your side, to show the same friendship towards me, and had the same confidence in me; why have you not, on this occasion, been my friend, -- why have you shown suspicion of me?”
+
+Mademoiselle de la Valliere did not answer. “I fondly thought you loved me,” said Raoul, whose voice became more and more agitated; “I fondly thought you consented to all the plans we had, together, laid down for our own happiness, at the time when we wandered up and down the walks of Cour-Cheverny, under the avenue of poplar trees leading to Blois. You do not answer me, Louise. Is it possible,” he inquired, breathing with difficulty, “that you no longer love me?”
+
+“I did not say so,” replied Louise, softly.
+
+“Oh! tell me the truth, I implore you. All my hopes in life are centered in you. I chose you for your gentle and simple tastes. Do not suffer yourself to be dazzled, Louise, now that you are in the midst of a court where all that is pure too soon becomes corrupt -- where all that is young too soon grows old. Louise, close your ears, so as not to hear what may be said; shut your eyes, so as not to see the examples before you; shut your lips, that you may not inhale the corrupting influences about you. Without falsehood or subterfuge, Louise, am I to believe what Mademoiselle de Montalais stated? Louise, did you come to Paris because I was no longer at Blois?”
+
+La Valliere blushed and concealed her face in her hands.
+
+“Yes, it was so, then!” exclaimed Raoul, delightedly; “that was, then, your reason for coming here. I love you as I never yet loved you. Thanks, Louise, for this devotion; but measures must be taken to place you beyond all insult, to shield you from every lure. Louise, a maid of honor, in the court of a young princess in these days of free manners and inconstant affections -- a maid of honor is placed as an object of attack without having any means of defence afforded her; this state of things cannot continue; you must be married in order to be respected.”
+
+“Married?”
+
+“Yes, here is my hand, Louise; will you place yours within it?”
+
+“But your father?”
+
+“My father leaves me perfectly free.”
+
+“Yet -- ”
+
+“I understand your scruples, Louise; I will consult my father.”
+
+“Reflect, M. Raoul; wait.”
+
+“Wait! it is impossible. Reflect, Louise, when you are concerned! it would be insulting, -- give me your hand, dear Louise; I am my own master. My father will consent, I know; give me your hand, do not keep me waiting thus. One word in answer, one word only; if not, I shall begin to think that, in order to change you forever, nothing more was needed than a single step in the palace, a single breath of favor, a smile from the queen, a look from the king.”
+
+Raoul had no sooner pronounced this latter word, than La Valliere became as pale as death, no doubt from fear at seeing the young man excite himself. With a movement as rapid as thought, she placed both her hands in those of Raoul, and then fled, without adding a syllable; disappearing without casting a look behind her. Raoul felt his whole frame tremble at the contact of her hand; he received the compact as a solemn bargain wrung by affection from her child-like timidity.
+
+Chapter XV. The Consent of Athos.
+
+Raoul quitted the Palais Royal full of ideas that admitted no delay in execution. He mounted his horse in the courtyard, and followed the road to Blois, while the marriage festivities of Monsieur and the princess of England were being celebrated with exceeding animation by the courtiers, but to the despair of De Guiche and Buckingham. Raoul lost no time on the road, and in sixteen hours he arrived at Blois. As he traveled along, he marshaled his arguments in the most becoming manner. Fever is an argument that cannot be answered, and Raoul had an attack. Athos was in his study, making additions to his memoirs, when Raoul entered, accompanied by Grimaud. Keen-sighted and penetrating, a mere glance at his son told him that something extraordinary had befallen him.
+
+“You seem to come on a matter of importance,” said he to Raoul, after he had embraced him, pointing to a seat.
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” replied the young man; “and I entreat you to give me the same kind attention that has never yet failed me.”
+
+“Speak, Raoul.”
+
+“I present the case to you, monsieur, free from all preface, for that would be unworthy of you. Mademoiselle de la Valliere is in Paris as one of Madame’s maids of honor. I have pondered deeply on the matter; I love Mademoiselle de la Valliere above everything; and it is not proper to leave her in a position where her reputation, her virtue even, may be assailed. It is my wish, therefore, to marry her, monsieur, and I have come to solicit your consent to my marriage.”
+
+While this communication was being made to him, Athos maintained the profoundest silence and reserve. Raoul, who had begun his address with an assumption of self-possession, finished it by allowing a manifest emotion to escape him at every word. Athos fixed upon Bragelonne a searching look, overshadowed indeed by a slight sadness.
+
+“You have reflected well upon it?” he inquired.
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“I believe you are already acquainted with my views respecting this alliance?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” replied Raoul, in a low tone of voice; “but you added, that if I persisted -- ”
+
+“You do persist, then?”
+
+Raoul stammered out an almost unintelligible assent.
+
+“Your passion,” continued Athos, tranquilly, “must indeed be very great, since, notwithstanding my dislike to this union, you persist in wanting it.”
+
+Raoul passed his hand trembling across his forehead to remove the perspiration that collected there. Athos looked at him, and his heart was touched by pity. He rose and said, -- 
+
+“It is no matter. My own personal feelings are not to be taken into consideration since yours are concerned; I am ready to give it. Tell me what you want.”
+
+“Your kind indulgence, first of all, monsieur,” said Raoul, taking hold of his hand.
+
+“You have mistaken my feelings, Raoul, I have more than mere indulgence for you in my heart.”
+
+Raoul kissed as devotedly as a lover could have done the hand he held in his own.
+
+“Come, come,” said Athos, “I am quite ready; what do you wish me to sign?”
+
+“Nothing whatever, monsieur, only it would be very kind if you would take the trouble to write to the king, to whom I belong, and solicit his majesty’s permission for me to marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Well thought, Raoul! After, or rather before myself, you have a master to consult, that master being the king; it is loyal in you to submit yourself voluntarily to this double proof; I will grant your request without delay, Raoul.”
+
+The count approached the window, and leaning out, called to Grimaud, who showed his head from an arbor covered with jasmine, which he was occupied in trimming.
+
+“My horses, Grimaud,” continued the count.
+
+“Why this order, monsieur?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“We shall set off in a few hours.”
+
+“Whither?”
+
+“For Paris.”
+
+“Paris, monsieur?”
+
+“Is not the king at Paris?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Well, ought we not to go there?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” said Raoul, almost alarmed by this kind condescension. “I do not ask you to put yourself to such inconvenience, and a letter merely -- ”
+
+“You mistake my position, Raoul; it is not respectful that a simple gentleman, such as I am, should write to his sovereign. I wish to speak, I ought to speak, to the king, and I will do so. We will go together, Raoul.”
+
+“You overpower me with your kindness, monsieur.”
+
+“How do you think his majesty is affected?”
+
+“Towards me, monsieur?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Excellently well disposed.”
+
+“You know that to be so?” continued the count.
+
+“The king has himself told me so.”
+
+“On what occasion?”
+
+“Upon the recommendation of M. d’Artagnan, I believe, and on account of an affair in the Place de Greve, when I had the honor to draw my sword in the king’s service. I have reason to believe that, vanity apart, I stand well with his majesty.”
+
+“So much the better.”
+
+“But I entreat you, monsieur,” pursued Raoul, “not to maintain towards me your present grave and serious manner. Do not make me bitterly regret having listened to a feeling stronger than anything else.”
+
+“That is the second time you have said so, Raoul; it was quite unnecessary; you require my formal consent, and you have it. We need talk no more on the subject, therefore. Come and see my new plantations, Raoul.”
+
+The young man knew very well, that, after the expression of his father’s wish, no opportunity of discussion was left him. He bowed his head, and followed his father into the garden. Athos slowly pointed out to him the grafts, the cuttings, and the avenues he was planting. This perfect repose of manner disconcerted Raoul extremely; the affection with which his own heart was filled seemed so great that the whole world could hardly contain it. How, then, could his father’s heart remain void, and closed to its influence? Bragelonne, therefore, collecting all his courage, suddenly exclaimed, -- 
+
+“It is impossible, monsieur, you can have any reason to reject Mademoiselle de la Valliere! In Heaven’s name, she is so good, so gentle and pure, that your mind, so perfect in its penetration, ought to appreciate her accordingly. Does any secret repugnance, or any hereditary dislike, exist between you and her family?”
+
+“Look, Raoul, at that beautiful lily of the valley,” said Athos; “observe how the shade and the damp situation suit it, particularly the shadow which that sycamore-tree casts over it, so that the warmth, and not the blazing heat of the sun, filters through its leaves.”
+
+Raoul stopped, bit his lips, and then, with the blood mantling in his face, he said, courageously, -- “One word of explanation, I beg, monsieur. You cannot forget that your son is a man.”
+
+“In that case,” replied Athos, drawing himself up with sternness, “prove to me that you are a man, for you do not show yourself a son. I begged you to wait the opportunity of forming an illustrious alliance. I would have obtained a wife for you from the first ranks of the rich nobility. I wish you to be distinguished by the splendor which glory and fortune confer, for nobility of descent you have already.”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed Raoul, carried away by a first impulse. “I was reproached the other day for not knowing who my mother was.”
+
+Athos turned pale; then, knitting his brows like the greatest of all the heathen deities: -- “I am waiting to learn the reply you made,” he demanded, in an imperious manner.
+
+“Forgive me! oh, forgive me,” murmured the young man, sinking at once from the lofty tone he had assumed.
+
+“What was your reply, monsieur?” inquired the count, stamping his feet upon the ground.
+
+“Monsieur, my sword was in my hand immediately, my adversary placed himself on guard, I struck his sword over the palisade, and threw him after it.”
+
+“Why did you suffer him to live?”
+
+“The king has prohibited duelling, and, at the moment, I was an ambassador of the king.”
+
+“Very well,” said Athos, “but all the greater reason I should see his majesty.”
+
+“What do you intend to ask him?”
+
+“Authority to draw my sword against the man who has inflicted this injury upon me.”
+
+“If I did not act as I ought to have done, I beg you to forgive me.”
+
+“Did I reproach you, Raoul?”
+
+“Still, the permission you are going to ask from the king?”
+
+“I will implore his majesty to sign your marriage-contract, but on one condition.”
+
+“Are conditions necessary with me, monsieur? Command, and you shall be obeyed.”
+
+“On the condition, I repeat,” continued Athos; “that you tell me the name of the man who spoke of your mother in that way.”
+
+“What need is there that you should know his name; the offense was directed against myself, and the permission once obtained from his majesty, to revenge it is my affair.”
+
+“Tell me his name, monsieur.”
+
+“I will not allow you to expose yourself.”
+
+“Do you take me for a Don Diego? His name, I say.”
+
+“You insist upon it?”
+
+“I demand it.”
+
+“The Vicomte de Wardes.”
+
+“Very well,” said Athos, tranquilly, “I know him. But our horses are ready, I see; and, instead of delaying our departure for a couple of hours, we will set off at once. Come, monsieur.”
+
+Chapter XVI. Monsieur Becomes Jealous of the Duke of Buckingham.
+
+While the Comte de la Fere was proceeding on his way to Pairs, accompanied by Raoul, the Palais Royal was the theatre wherein a scene of what Moliere would have called excellent comedy, was being performed. Four days had elapsed since his marriage, and Monsieur, having breakfasted very hurriedly, passed into his ante-chamber, frowning and out of temper. The repast had not been over-agreeable. Madame had had breakfast served in her own apartment, and Monsieur had breakfasted almost alone; the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp were the only persons present at the meal, which lasted three-quarters of an hour without a single syllable having been uttered. Manicamp, who was less intimate with his royal highness than the Chevalier de Lorraine, vainly endeavored to detect, from the expression of the prince’s face, what had made him so ill-humored. The Chevalier de Lorraine, who had no occasion to speculate about anything, inasmuch as he knew all, ate his breakfast with that extraordinary appetite which the troubles of one’s friends but stimulates, and enjoyed at the same time both Monsieur’s ill-humor and the vexation of Manicamp. He seemed delighted, while he went on eating, to detain a prince, who was very impatient to move, still at table. Monsieur at times repented the ascendency which he had permitted the Chevalier de Lorraine to acquire over him, and which exempted the latter from any observance of etiquette towards him. Monsieur was now in one of those moods, but he dreaded as much as he liked the chevalier, and contented himself with nursing his anger without betraying it. Every now and then Monsieur raised his eyes to the ceiling, then lowered them towards the slices of pate which the chevalier was attacking, and finally, not caring to betray the resentment, he gesticulated in a manner which Harlequin might have envied. At last, however, Monsieur could control himself no longer, and at the dessert, rising from the table in excessive wrath, as we have related, he left the Chevalier de Lorraine to finish his breakfast as he pleased. Seeing Monsieur rise from the table, Manicamp, napkin in hand, rose also. Monsieur ran rather than walked, towards the ante-chamber, where, noticing an usher in attendance, he gave him some directions in a low tone of voice. Then, turning back again, but avoiding passing through the breakfast apartment, he crossed several rooms, with the intention of seeking the queen-mother in her oratory, where she usually remained.
+
+It was about ten o’clock in the morning. Anne of Austria was engaged in writing as Monsieur entered. The queen-mother was extremely attached to her son, for he was handsome in person and amiable in disposition. He was, in fact, more affectionate, and it might be, more effeminate than the king. He pleased his mother by those trifling sympathizing attentions all women are glad to receive. Anne of Austria, who would have been rejoiced to have had a daughter, almost found in this, her favorite son, the attentions, solicitude, and playful manners of a child of twelve years of age. All the time he passed with his mother he employed in admiring her arms, in giving his opinion upon her cosmetics, and recipes for compounding essences, in which she was very particular; and then, too, he kissed her hands and cheeks in the most childlike and endearing manner, and had always some sweetmeats to offer her, or some new style of dress to recommend. Anne of Austria loved the king, or rather the regal power in her eldest son; Louis XIV. represented legitimacy by right divine. With the king, her character was that of the queen-mother, with Philip she was simply the mother. The latter knew that, of all places, a mother’s heart is the most compassionate and surest. When quite a child he always fled there for refuge when he and his brother quarreled, often, after having struck him, which constituted the crime of high treason on his part, after certain engagements with hands and nails, in which the king and his rebellious subject indulged in their night-dresses respecting the right to a disputed bed, having their servant Laporte as umpire, -- Philip, conqueror, but terrified at victory, used to flee to his mother to obtain reinforcements from her, or at least the assurance of forgiveness, which Louis XIV. granted with difficulty, and after an interval. Anne, from this habit of peaceable intervention, succeeded in arranging the disputes of her sons, and in sharing, at the same time, all their secrets. The king, somewhat jealous of that maternal solicitude which was bestowed particularly on his brother, felt disposed to show towards Anne of Austria more submission and attachment than his character really dictated. Anne of Austria had adopted this line of conduct especially towards the young queen. In this manner she ruled with almost despotic sway over the royal household, and she was already preparing her batteries to govern with the same absolute authority the household of her second son. Anne experienced almost a feeling of pride whenever she saw any one enter her apartment with woe-begone looks, pale cheeks, or red eyes, gathering from appearances that assistance was required either by the weakest or the most rebellious. She was writing, we have said, when Monsieur entered her oratory, not with red eyes or pale cheeks, but restless, out of temper, and annoyed. With an absent air he kissed his mother’s hands, and sat himself down before receiving her permission to do so. Considering the strict rules of etiquette established at the court of Anne of Austria, this forgetfulness of customary civilities was a sign of preoccupation, especially on Philip’s part, who, of his own accord, observed a respect towards her of a somewhat exaggerated character. If, therefore, he so notoriously failed in this regard, there must be a serious cause for it.
+
+“What is the matter, Philip?” inquired Anne of Austria, turning towards her son.
+
+“A good many things,” murmured the prince, in a doleful tone of voice.
+
+“You look like a man who has a great deal to do,” said the queen, laying down her pen. Philip frowned, but did not reply. “Among the various subjects which occupy your mind,” said Anne of Austria, “there must surely be one that absorbs it more than others.”
+
+“One has indeed occupied me more than any other.”
+
+“Well, what is it? I am listening.”
+
+Philip opened his mouth as if to express all the troubles his mind was filled with, and which he seemed to be waiting only for an opportunity of declaring. But he suddenly became silent, and a sigh alone expressed all that his heart was overflowing with.
+
+“Come, Philip, show a little firmness,” said the queen-mother. “When one has to complain of anything, it is generally an individual who is the cause of it. Am I not right?”
+
+“I do not say no, madame.”
+
+“Whom do you wish to speak about? Come, take courage.”
+
+“In fact, madame, what I might possibly have to say must be kept a profound secret; for when a lady is in the case -- ”
+
+“Ah! you are speaking of Madame, then?” inquired the queen-mother, with a feeling of the liveliest curiosity.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, then, if you wish to speak of Madame, do not hesitate to do so. I am your mother, and she is no more than a stranger to me. Yet, as she is my daughter-in-law, rest assured I shall be interested, even were it for your own sake alone, in hearing all you may have to say about her.”
+
+“Pray tell me, madame, in your turn, whether you have not remarked something?”
+
+“‘Something’! Philip? Your words almost frighten me, from their want of meaning. What do you mean by ‘something?’”
+
+“Madame is pretty, certainly.”
+
+“No doubt of it.”
+
+“Yet not altogether beautiful.”
+
+“No, but as she grows older, she will probably become strikingly beautiful. You must have remarked the change which a few years have already made in her. Her beauty will improve more and more; she is now only sixteen years of age. At fifteen I was, myself, very thin; but even as she is at present, Madame is very pretty.”
+
+“And consequently others have remarked it.”
+
+“Undoubtedly, for a woman of ordinary rank is noticed -- and with still greater reason a princess.”
+
+“She has been well brought up, I suppose?”
+
+“Madame Henriette, her mother, is a woman somewhat cold in manner, slightly pretentious, but full of noble thoughts. The princess’s education may have been neglected, but her principles, I believe, are good. Such at least was the opinion I formed of her when she resided in France; but she afterwards returned to England, and I am ignorant what may have occurred there.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Simply that there are some heads naturally giddy, which are easily turned by prosperity.”
+
+“That is the very word, madame. I think the princess rather giddy.”
+
+“We must not exaggerate, Philip; she is clever and witty, and has a certain amount of coquetry very natural in a young woman; but this defect in persons of high rank and position, is a great advantage at a court. A princess who is tinged with coquetry usually forms a brilliant court; her smile stimulates luxury, arouses wit, and even courage; the nobles, too, fight better for a prince whose wife is beautiful.”
+
+“Thank you extremely, madame,” said Philip, with some temper; “you really have drawn some very alarming pictures for me.”
+
+“In what respect?” asked the queen, with pretended simplicity.
+
+“You know, madame,” said Philip, dolefully, “whether I had or had not a very great dislike to getting married.”
+
+“Now, indeed, you alarm me. You have some serious cause of complaint against Madame.”
+
+“I do not precisely say it is serious.”
+
+“In that case, then, throw aside your doleful looks. If you show yourself to others in your present state, people will take you for a very unhappy husband.”
+
+“The fact is,” replied Philip, “I am not altogether satisfied as a husband, and I shall not be sorry if others know it.”
+
+“For shame, Philip.”
+
+“Well, then, madame, I will tell you frankly that I do not understand the life I am required to lead.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“My wife does not seem to belong to me; she is always leaving me for some reason or another. In the mornings there are visits, correspondences, and toilettes; in the evenings, balls and concerts.”
+
+“You are jealous, Philip.”
+
+“I! Heaven forbid. Let others act the part of a jealous husband, not I. But I am annoyed.”
+
+“All these things you reproach your wife with are perfectly innocent, and, so long as you have nothing of greater importance -- ”
+
+“Yet, listen; without being very blamable, a woman can excite a good deal of uneasiness. Certain visitors may be received, certain preferences shown, which expose young women to remark, and which are enough to drive out of their senses even those husbands who are least disposed to be jealous.”
+
+“Ah! now we are coming to the real point at last, and not without some difficulty. You speak of frequent visits, and certain preferences -- very good; for the last hour we have been beating about the bush, and at last you have broached the true question.”
+
+“Well then, yes -- ”
+
+“This is more serious than I thought. It is possible, then, that Madame can have given you grounds for these complaints against her?”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“What, your wife, married only four days ago, prefers some other person to yourself? Take care, Philip, you exaggerate your grievances; in wishing to prove everything, you prove nothing.”
+
+The prince, bewildered by his mother’s serious manner, wished to reply, but he could only stammer out some unintelligible words.
+
+“You draw back, then?” said Anne of Austria. “I prefer that, as it is an acknowledgement of your mistake.”
+
+“No!” exclaimed Philip, “I do not draw back, and I will prove all I asserted. I spoke of preference and of visits, did I not? Well, listen.”
+
+Anne of Austria prepared herself to listen, with that love of gossip which the best woman living and the best mother, were she a queen even, always finds in being mixed up with the petty squabbles of a household.
+
+“Well,” said Philip, “tell me one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Why does my wife retain an English court about her?” said Philip, as he crossed his arms and looked his mother steadily in the face, as if he were convinced that she could not answer the question.
+
+“For a very simple reason,” returned Anne of Austria; “because the English are her countrymen, because they have expended large sums in order to accompany her to France, and because it would hardly be polite -- not politic, certainly -- to dismiss abruptly those members of the English nobility who have not shrunk from any devotion or sacrifice.”
+
+“A wonderful sacrifice indeed,” returned Philip, “to desert a wretched country to come to a beautiful one, where a greater effect can be produced for a guinea that can be procured elsewhere for four! Extraordinary devotion, really, to travel a hundred leagues in company with a woman one is in love with!”
+
+“In love, Philip! think what you are saying. Who is in love with Madame?”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham. Perhaps you will defend him, too?”
+
+Anne of Austria blushed and smiled at the same time. The name of the Duke of Buckingham recalled certain recollections of a very tender and melancholy nature. “The Duke of Buckingham?” she murmured.
+
+“Yes; one of those arm-chair soldiers -- ”
+
+“The Buckinghams are loyal and brave,” said Anne of Austria, courageously.
+
+“This is too bad; my own mother takes the part of my wife’s lover against me,” exclaimed Philip, incensed to such an extent that his weak organization was affected almost to tears.
+
+“Philip, my son,” exclaimed Anne of Austria, “such an expression is unworthy of you. Your wife has no lover; and, had she one, it would not be the Duke of Buckingham. The members of that family, I repeat, are loyal and discreet, and the rights of hospitality are sure to be respected by them.”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham is an Englishman, madame,” said Philip, “and may I ask if the English so very religiously respect what belongs to princes of France?”
+
+Anne blushed a second time, and turned aside under the pretext of taking her pen from her desk again, but in reality to conceal her confusion from her son. “Really, Philip,” she said, “you seem to discover expressions for the purpose of embarrassing me, and your anger blinds you while it alarms me; reflect a little.”
+
+“There is no need for reflection, madame. I can see with my own eyes.”
+
+“Well, and what do you see?”
+
+“That Buckingham never quits my wife. He presumes to make presents to her, and she ventures to accept them. Yesterday she was talking about sauchets a la violette; well, our French perfumers, you know very well, madame, for you have over and over again asked for it without success -- our French perfumers, I say, have never been able to procure this scent. The duke, however, wore about him a sachet a la violette, and I am sure that the one my wife has came from him.”
+
+“Indeed, monsieur,” said Anne of Austria, “you build your pyramids on needle points; be careful. What harm, I ask you, can there be in a man giving to his countrywoman a recipe for a new essence? These strange ideas, I protest, painfully recall your father to me; he who so frequently and so unjustly made me suffer.”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham’s father was probably more reserved and more respectful than his son,” said Philip, thoughtlessly, not perceiving how deeply he had wounded his mother’s feelings. The queen turned pale, and pressed her clenched hands upon her bosom; but, recovering herself immediately, she said, “You came here with some intention or another, I suppose?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“What was it?”
+
+“I came, madame, intending to complain energetically, and to inform you that I will not submit to such behavior from the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“What do you intend to do, then?”
+
+“I shall complain to the king.”
+
+“And what do you expect the king to reply?”
+
+“Very well, then,” said Monsieur, with an expression of stern determination on his countenance, which offered a singular contrast to its usual gentleness. “Very well. I will right myself!”
+
+“What do you call righting yourself?” inquired Anne of Austria, in alarm.
+
+“I will have the Duke of Buckingham quit the princess, I will have him quit France, and I will see that my wishes are intimated to him.”
+
+“You will intimate nothing of the kind, Philip,” said the queen, “for if you act in that manner, and violate hospitality to that extent, I will invoke the severity of the king against you.”
+
+“Do you threaten me, madame?” exclaimed Philip, almost in tears; “do you threaten me in the midst of my complaints?”
+
+“I do not threaten you; I do but place an obstacle in the path of your hasty anger. I maintain, that, to adopt towards the Duke of Buckingham, or any other Englishman, any rigorous measure -- to take even a discourteous step towards him, would be to plunge France and England into the most disastrous disagreement. Can it be possible that a prince of the blood, the brother of the king of France, does not know how to hide an injury, even did it exist in reality, where political necessity requires it?” Philip made a movement. “Besides,” continued the queen, “the injury is neither true nor possible, and it is merely a matter of silly jealousy.”
+
+“Madame, I know what I know.”
+
+“Whatever you may know, I can only advise you to be patient.”
+
+“I am not patient by disposition, madame.”
+
+The queen rose, full of severity, and with an icy ceremonious manner. “Explain what you really require, monsieur,” she said.
+
+“I do not require anything, madame; I simply express what I desire. If the Duke of Buckingham does not, of his own accord, discontinue his visits to my apartments I shall forbid him entrance.”
+
+“That is a point you will refer to the king,” said Anne of Austria, her heart swelling as she spoke, and her voice trembling with emotion.
+
+“But, madame,” exclaimed Philip, striking his hands together, “act as my mother and not as the queen, since I speak to you as a son; it is simply a matter of a few minutes’ conversation between the duke and myself.”
+
+“It is that very conversation I forbid,” said the queen, resuming her authority, “because it is unworthy of you.”
+
+“Be it so; I will not appear in the matter, but I shall intimate my will to Madame.”
+
+“Oh!” said the queen-mother, with a melancholy arising from reflection, “never tyrannize over a wife -- never behave too haughtily or imperiously towards your own. A woman unwillingly convinced, is unconvinced.”
+
+“What is to be done, then? -- I will consult my friends about it.”
+
+“Yes, your double-dealing advisers, your Chevalier de Lorraine -- your De Wardes. Intrust the conduct of this affair to me. You wish the Duke of Buckingham to leave, do you not?”
+
+“As soon as possible, madame.”
+
+“Send the duke to me, then; smile upon your wife, behave to her, to the king, to every one, as usual. But follow no advice but mine. Alas! I too well know what any household comes to, that is troubled by advisers.”
+
+“You shall be obeyed, madame.”
+
+“And you will be satisfied at the result. Send the duke to me.”
+
+“That will not be difficult.”
+
+“Where do you suppose him to be?”
+
+“At my wife’s door, whose levee he is probably awaiting.”
+
+“Very well,” said Anne of Austria, calmly. “Be good enough to tell the duke that I shall be charmed if he will pay me a visit.”
+
+Philip kissed his mother’s hand, and started off to find the Duke of Buckingham.
+
+Chapter XVII. Forever!
+
+The Duke of Buckingham, obedient to the queen-mother’s invitation, presented himself in her apartments half an hour after the departure of the Duc d’Orleans. When his name was announced by the gentleman-usher in attendance, the queen, who was sitting with her elbow resting on a table, and her head buried in her hands, rose, and smilingly received the graceful and respectful salutation which the duke addressed to her. Anne of Austria was still beautiful. It is well known that at her then somewhat advanced age, her long auburn hair, perfectly formed hands, and bright ruby lips, were still the admiration of all who saw her. On the present occasion, abandoned entirely to a remembrance which evoked all the past in her heart, she looked almost as beautiful as in the days of her youth, when her palace was open to the visits of the Duke of Buckingham’s father, then a young and impassioned man, as well as an unfortunate prince, who lived for her alone, and died with her name upon his lips. Anne of Austria fixed upon Buckingham a look so tender in its expression, that it denoted, not alone the indulgence of maternal affection, but a gentleness of expression like the coquetry of a woman who loves.
+
+“Your majesty,” said Buckingham, respectfully, “desired to speak to me.”
+
+“Yes, duke,” said the queen, in English; “will you be good enough to sit down?”
+
+The favor which Anne of Austria thus extended to the young man, and the welcome sound of the language of a country from which the duke had been estranged since his stay in France, deeply affected him. He immediately conjectured that the queen had a request to make of him. After having abandoned the first few moments to the irrepressible emotions she experienced, the queen resumed the smiling air with which she had received him. “What do you think of France?” she said, in French.
+
+“It is a lovely country, madame,” replied the duke.
+
+“Had you ever seen it before?”
+
+“Once only, madame.”
+
+“But, like all true Englishmen, you prefer England?”
+
+“I prefer my own native land to France,” replied the duke; “but if your majesty were to ask me which of the two cities, London or Pairs, I should prefer as a residence, I should be forced to answer Paris.”
+
+Anne of Austria observed the ardent manner with which these words had been pronounced. “I am told, my lord, you have rich possessions in your own country, and that you live in a splendid and time-honored place.”
+
+“It was my father’s residence,” replied Buckingham, casting down his eyes.
+
+“Those are indeed great advantages and souvenirs,” replied the queen, alluding, in spite of herself, to recollections from which it is impossible voluntarily to detach one’s self.
+
+“In fact,” said the duke, yielding to the melancholy influence of this opening conversation, “sensitive persons live as much in the past or the future, as in the present.”
+
+“That is very true,” said the queen, in a low tone of voice. “It follows, then, my lord,” she added, “that you, who are a man of feeling, will soon quit France in order to shut yourself up with your wealth and your relics of the past.”
+
+Buckingham raised his head and said, “I think not, madame.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“On the contrary, I think of leaving England in order to take up my residence in France.”
+
+It was now Anne of Austria’s turn to exhibit surprise. “Why?” she said. “Are you not in favor with the new king?”
+
+“Perfectly so, madame, for his majesty’s kindness to me is unbounded.”
+
+“It cannot,” said the queen, “be because your fortune has diminished, for it is said to be enormous.”
+
+“My income, madame, has never been so large.”
+
+“There is some secret cause, then?”
+
+“No, madame,” said Buckingham, eagerly, “there is nothing secret in my reason for this determination. I prefer residence in France; I like a court so distinguished by its refinement and courtesy; I like the amusements, somewhat serious in their nature, which are not the amusements of my own country, and which are met with in France.”
+
+Anne of Austria smiled shrewdly. “Amusements of a serious nature?” she said. “Has your Grace well reflected on their seriousness?” The duke hesitated. “There is no amusement so serious,” continued the queen, “as to prevent a man of your rank -- ”
+
+“Your majesty seems to insist greatly on that point,” interrupted the duke.
+
+“Do you think so, my lord?”
+
+“If you will forgive me for saying so, it is the second time you have vaunted the attractions of England at the expense of the delight which all experience who live in France.”
+
+Anne of Austria approached the young man, and placing her beautiful hand upon his shoulder, which trembled at the touch, said, “Believe me, monsieur, nothing can equal a residence in one’s own native country. I have very frequently had occasion to regret Spain. I have lived long, my lord, very long for a woman, and I confess to you, that not a year has passed I have not regretted Spain.”
+
+“Not one year, madame?” said the young duke coldly. “Not one of those years when you reigned Queen of Beauty -- as you still are, indeed?”
+
+“A truce to flattery, duke, for I am old enough to be your mother.” She emphasized these latter words in a manner, and with a gentleness, which penetrated Buckingham’s heart. “Yes,” she said, “I am old enough to be your mother; and for this reason, I will give you a word of advice.”
+
+“That advice being that I should return to London?” he exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+The duke clasped his hands with a terrified gesture, which could not fail of its effect upon the queen, already disposed to softer feelings by the tenderness of her own recollections. “It must be so,” added the queen.
+
+“What!” he again exclaimed, “am I seriously told that I must leave, -- that I must exile myself, -- that I am to flee at once?”
+
+“Exile yourself, did you say? One would fancy France was your native country.”
+
+“Madame, the country of those who love is the country of those whom they love.”
+
+“Not another word, my lord; you forget whom you are addressing.”
+
+Buckingham threw himself on his knees. “Madame, you are the source of intelligence, of goodness, and of compassion; you are the first person in this kingdom, not only by your rank, but the first person in the world on account of your angelic attributes. I have said nothing, madame. Have I, indeed, said anything you should answer with such a cruel remark? What have I betrayed?”
+
+“You have betrayed yourself,” said the queen, in a low tone of voice.
+
+“I have said nothing, -- I know nothing.”
+
+“You forget you have spoken and thought in the presence of a woman; and besides -- ”
+
+“Besides,” said the duke, “no one knows you are listening to me.”
+
+“On the contrary, it is known; you have all the defects and all the qualities of youth.”
+
+“I have been betrayed or denounced, then?”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By those who, at Le Havre, had, with infernal perspicacity, read my heart like an open book.”
+
+“I do not know whom you mean.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne, for instance.”
+
+“I know the name without being acquainted with the person to whom it belongs. M. de Bragelonne has said nothing.”
+
+“Who can it be, then? If any one, madame, had had the boldness to notice in me that which I do not myself wish to behold -- ”
+
+“What would you do, duke?”
+
+“There are secrets which kill those who discover them.”
+
+“He, then, who has discovered your secret, madman that you are, still lives; and, what is more, you will not slay him, for he is armed on all sides, -- he is a husband, a jealous man, -- he is the second gentleman in France, -- he is my son, the Duc du Orleans.”
+
+The duke turned pale as death. “You are very cruel, madame,” he said.
+
+“You see, Buckingham,” said Anne of Austria, sadly, “how you pass from one extreme to another, and fight with shadows, when it would seem so easy to remain at peace with yourself.”
+
+“If we fight, madame, we die on the field of battle,” replied the young man, gently, abandoning himself to the most gloomy depression.
+
+Anne ran towards him and took him by the hand. “Villiers,” she said, in English, with a vehemence of tone which nothing could resist, “what is it you ask? Do you ask a mother to sacrifice her son, -- a queen to consent to the dishonor of her house? Child that you are, do not dream of it. What! in order to spare your tears am I to commit these crimes? Villiers! you speak of the dead; the dead, at least, were full of respect and submission; they resigned themselves to an order of exile; they carried their despair away with them in their hearts, like a priceless possession, because the despair was caused by the woman they loved, and because death, thus deceptive, was like a gift of a favor conferred upon them.”
+
+Buckingham rose, his features distorted, and his hands pressed against his heart. “You are right, madame,” he said, “but those of whom you speak had received their order of exile from the lips of the one whom they loved; they were not driven away; they were entreated to leave, and were not laughed at.”
+
+“No,” murmured Anne of Austria, “they were not forgotten. But who says you are driven away, or that you are exiled? Who says that your devotion will not be remembered? I do not speak on any one’s behalf but my own, when I tell you to leave. Do me this kindness, -- grant me this favor; let me, for this also, be indebted to one of your name.”
+
+“It is for your sake, then, madame?”
+
+“For mine alone.”
+
+“No one whom I shall leave behind me will venture to mock, -- no prince even who shall say, ‘I required it.’”
+
+“Listen to me, duke,” and hereupon the dignified features of the queen assumed a solemn expression. “I swear to you that no one commands in this matter but myself. I swear to you that, not only shall no one either laugh or boast in any way, but no one even shall fail in the respect due to your rank. Rely upon me, duke, as I rely upon you.”
+
+“You do not explain yourself, madame; my heart is full of bitterness, and I am in utter despair; no consolation, however gentle and affectionate, can afford me relief.”
+
+“Do you remember your mother, duke?” replied the queen, with a winning smile.
+
+“Very slightly, madame; yet I remember how she used to cover me with her caresses and her tears whenever I wept.”
+
+“Villiers,” murmured the queen, passing her arm round the young man’s neck, “look upon me as your mother, and believe that no one shall ever make my son weep.”
+
+“I thank you, madame,” said the young man affected and almost suffocated by his emotion; “I feel there is still room in my heart for a gentler and nobler sentiment than love.”
+
+The queen-mother looked at him and pressed his hand. “Go,” she said.
+
+“When must I leave? Command me.”
+
+“At any time that may suit you, my lord,” resumed the queen; “you will choose your own day of departure. Instead, however, of setting off to-day, as you would doubtless wish to do, or to-morrow, as others may have expected, leave the day after to-morrow, in the evening; but announce to-day that it is your wish to leave.”
+
+“My wish?” murmured the young duke.
+
+“Yes, duke.”
+
+“And shall I never return to France?”
+
+Anne of Austria reflected for a moment, seemingly absorbed in sad and serious thought. “It would be a consolation for me,” she said, “if you were to return on the day when I shall be carried to my final resting-place at Saint-Dennis beside the king, my husband.”
+
+“Madame, you are goodness itself; the tide of prosperity is setting in on you; your cup brims over with happiness, and many long years are yet before you.”
+
+“In that case you will not come for some time, then,” said the queen, endeavoring to smile.
+
+“I shall not return,” said Buckingham, “young as I am. Death does not reckon by years; it is impartial; some die young, some reach old age.”
+
+“I will not harbor any sorrowful ideas, duke. Let me comfort you; return in two years. I perceive from your face that the very idea which saddens you so much now, will have disappeared before six months have passed, and will be not only dead but forgotten in the period of absence I have assigned you.”
+
+“I think you judged me better a little while ago, madame,” replied the young man, “when you said that time is powerless against members of the family of Buckingham.”
+
+“Silence,” said the queen, kissing the duke upon the forehead with an affection she could not restrain. “Go, go; spare me and forget yourself no longer. I am the queen; you are the subject of the king of England; King Charles awaits your return. Adieu, Villiers, -- farewell.”
+
+“Forever!” replied the young man, and he fled, endeavoring to master his emotions.
+
+Anne leaned her head upon her hands, and then looking at herself in the glass, murmured, “It has been truly said, that a woman who has truly loved is always young, and that the bloom of the girl of twenty years ever lies concealed in some secret cloister of the heart.” [1]
+
+Chapter XVIII. King Louis XIV. does not think Mademoiselle de la Valliere either rich enough or pretty enough for a Gentleman of the Rank of the Vicomte de Bragelonne.
+
+Raoul and the Comte de la Fere reached Paris the evening of the same day on which Buckingham had held the conversation with the queen-mother. The count had scarcely arrived, when, through Raoul, he solicited an audience of the king. His majesty had passed a portion of the morning in looking over, with madame and the ladies of the court, various goods of Lyons manufacture, of which he had made his sister-in-law a present. A court dinner had succeeded, then cards, and afterwards, according to his usual custom, the king, leaving the card-tables at eight o’clock, passed into his cabinet in order to work with M. Colbert and M. Fouquet. Raoul entered the ante-chamber at the very moment the two ministers quitted it, and the king, perceiving him through the half-closed door, said, “What do you want, M. de Bragelonne?”
+
+The young man approached: “An audience, sire,” he replied, “for the Comte de la Fere, who has just arrived from Blois, and is most anxious to have an interview with your majesty.”
+
+“I have an hour to spare between cards and supper,” said the king. “Is the Comte de la Fere at hand?”
+
+“He is below, and awaits your majesty’s permission.”
+
+“Let him come up at once,” said the king, and five minutes afterwards Athos entered the presence of Louis XIV. He was received by the king with that gracious kindness of manner which Louis, with a tact beyond his years, reserved for the purpose of gaining those who were not to be conquered by ordinary favors. “Let me hope, comte,” said the king, “that you have come to ask me for something.”
+
+“I will not conceal from your majesty,” replied the comte, “that I am indeed come for that purpose.”
+
+“That is well,” said the king, joyously.
+
+“It is not for myself, sire.”
+
+“So much the worse; but, at least, I will do for your protege what you refuse to permit me to do for you.”
+
+“Your majesty encourages me. I have come to speak on behalf of the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“It is the same as if you spoke on your own behalf, comte.”
+
+“Not altogether so, sire. I am desirous of obtaining from your majesty that which I cannot ask for myself. The vicomte thinks of marrying.”
+
+“He is still very young; but that does not matter. He is an eminently distinguished man; I will choose a wife for him.”
+
+“He has already chosen one, sire, and only awaits your consent.”
+
+“It is only a question, then, of signing the marriage-contract?” Athos bowed. “Has he chose a wife whose fortune and position accord with your own anticipation?”
+
+Athos hesitated for a moment. “His affirmed wife is of good birth, but has no fortune.”
+
+“That is a misfortune we can remedy.”
+
+“You overwhelm me with gratitude, sire; but your majesty will permit me to offer a remark?”
+
+“Do so, comte.”
+
+“Your majesty seems to intimate an intention of giving a marriage-portion to this young lady.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“I should regret, sire, if the step I have taken towards your majesty should be attended by this result.”
+
+“No false delicacy, comte; what is the bride’s name?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere,” said Athos, coldly.
+
+“I seem to know that name,” said the king, as if reflecting; “there was a Marquis de la Valliere.”
+
+“Yes, sire, it is his daughter.”
+
+“But he died, and his widow married again M. de Saint-Remy, I think, steward of the dowager Madame’s household.”
+
+“Your majesty is correctly informed.”
+
+“More than that, the young lady has lately become one of the princess’s maids of honor.”
+
+“Your majesty is better acquainted with her history than am I.”
+
+The king again reflected, and glancing at the comte’s anxious countenance, said: “The young lady does not seem to me to be very pretty, comte.”
+
+“I am not quite sure,” replied Athos.
+
+“I have seen her, but she hardly struck me as being so.”
+
+“She seems to be a good and modest girl, but has little beauty, sire.”
+
+“Beautiful fair hair, however.”
+
+“I think so.”
+
+“And her blue eyes are tolerably good.”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“With regard to her beauty, then, the match is but an ordinary one. Now for the money side of the question.”
+
+“Fifteen to twenty thousand francs dowry at the very outset, sire; the lovers are disinterested enough; for myself, I care little for money.”
+
+“For superfluity, you mean; but a needful amount is of importance. With fifteen thousand francs, without landed property, a woman cannot live at court. We will make up the deficiency; I will do it for De Bragelonne.” The king again remarked the coldness with which Athos received the remark.
+
+“Let us pass from the question of money to that of rank,” said Louis XIV.; “the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, that is well enough; but there is that excellent Saint-Remy, who somewhat damages the credit of the family; and you, comte, are rather particular, I believe, about your own family.”
+
+“Sire, I no longer hold to anything but my devotion to your majesty.”
+
+The king again paused. “A moment, comte. You have surprised me in no little degree from the beginning of your conversation. You came to ask me to authorize a marriage, and you seem greatly disturbed in having to make the request. Nay, pardon me, comte, but I am rarely deceived, young as I am; for while with some persons I place my friendship at the disposal of my understanding, with others I call my distrust to my aid, by which my discernment is increased. I repeat, that you do not prefer your request as though you wished it success.”
+
+“Well, sire, that is true.”
+
+“I do not understand you, then; refuse.”
+
+“Nay, sire; I love De Bragelonne with my whole heart; he is smitten with Mademoiselle de la Valliere, he weaves dreams of bliss for the future; I am not one who is willing to destroy the illusions of youth. This marriage is objectionable to me, but I implore your majesty to consent to it forthwith, and thus make Raoul happy.”
+
+“Tell me, comte, is she in love with him?”
+
+“If your majesty requires me to speak candidly, I do not believe in Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s affection; the delight at being at court, the honor of being in the service of Madame, counteract in her head whatever affection she may happen to have in her heart; it is a marriage similar to many others which already exist at court; but De Bragelonne wishes it, and so let it be.”
+
+“And yet you do not resemble those easy-tempered fathers who volunteer as stepping-stones for their children,” said the king.
+
+“I am determined enough against the viciously disposed, but not so against men of upright character. Raoul is suffering; he is in great distress of mind; his disposition, naturally light and cheerful, has become gloomy and melancholy. I do not wish to deprive your majesty of the services he may be able to render.”
+
+“I understand you,” said the king; “and what is more, I understand your heart, too, comte.”
+
+“There is no occasion, therefore,” replied the comte, “to tell your majesty that my object is to make these children, or rather Raoul, happy.”
+
+“And I, too, as much as yourself, comte, wish to secure M. de Bragelonne’s happiness.”
+
+“I only await your majesty’s signature. Raoul will have the honor of presenting himself before your majesty to receive your consent.”
+
+“You are mistaken, comte,” said the king, firmly; “I have just said that I desire to secure M. de Bragelonne’s happiness, and from the present moment, therefore, I oppose his marriage.”
+
+“But, sire,” exclaimed Athos, “your majesty has promised!”
+
+“Not so, comte, I did not promise you, for it is opposed to my own views.”
+
+“I appreciate your majesty’s considerate and generous intentions on my behalf; but I take the liberty of recalling to you that I undertook to approach you as an ambassador.”
+
+“An ambassador, comte, frequently asks, but does not always obtain what he asks.”
+
+“But, sire, it will be such a blow for De Bragelonne.”
+
+“My hand shall deal the blow; I will speak to the vicomte.”
+
+“Love, sire, is overwhelming in its might.”
+
+“Love can be resisted, comte. I myself can assure you of that.”
+
+“When one has the soul of a king, -- your own, for instance, sire.”
+
+“Do not make yourself uneasy on the subject. I have certain views for De Bragelonne. I do not say that he shall not marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere, but I do not wish him to marry so young; I do not wish him to marry her until she has acquired a fortune; and he, on his side, no less deserves favor, such as I wish to confer upon him. In a word, comte, I wish them to wait.”
+
+“Yet once more, sire.”
+
+“Comte, you told me you came here to request a favor.”
+
+“Assuredly, sire.”
+
+“Grant me one, then, instead; let us speak no longer upon this matter. It is probable that, before long, war may be declared. I require men about me who are unfettered. I should hesitate to send under fire a married man, or a father of a family. I should hesitate also, on De Bragelonne’s account, to endow with a fortune, without some sound reason for it, a young girl, a perfect stranger; such an act would sow jealousy amongst my nobility.” Athos bowed, and remained silent.
+
+“Is that all you wished to ask me?” added Louis XIV.
+
+“Absolutely all, sire; and I take my leave of your majesty. Is it, however, necessary that I should inform Raoul?”
+
+“Spare yourself the trouble and annoyance. Tell the vicomte that at my levee to-morrow morning I will speak to him. I shall expect you this evening, comte, to join my card-table.”
+
+“I am in traveling-costume, sire.”
+
+“A day will come, I hope, when you will leave me no more. Before long, comte, the monarchy will be established in such a manner as to enable me to offer a worthy hospitality to men of your merit.”
+
+“Provided, sire, a monarch reigns grandly in the hearts of his subjects, the palace he inhabits matters little, since he is worshipped in a temple.” With these words Athos left the cabinet, and found De Bragelonne, who was awaiting him anxiously.
+
+“Well, monsieur?” said the young man.
+
+“The king, Raoul, is well intentioned towards us both; not, perhaps, in the sense you suppose, but he is kind, and generously disposed to our house.”
+
+“You have bad news to communicate to me, monsieur,” said the young man, turning very pale.
+
+“The king himself will inform you to-morrow morning that it is not bad news.”
+
+“The king has not signed, however?”
+
+“The king wishes himself to settle the terms of the contract, and he desires to make it so grand that he requires time for consideration. Throw the blame rather on your own impatience, than on the king’s good feelings towards you.”
+
+Raoul, in utter consternation, on account of his knowledge of the count’s frankness as well as his diplomacy, remained plunged in dull and gloomy stupor.
+
+“Will you not go with me to my lodgings?” said Athos.
+
+“I beg your pardon, monsieur; I will follow you,” he stammered out, following Athos down the staircase.
+
+“Since I am here,” said Athos, suddenly, “cannot I see M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Shall I show you his apartments?” said De Bragelonne.
+
+“Do so.”
+
+“They are on the opposite staircase.”
+
+They altered their course, but on reaching the landing of the grand staircase, Raoul perceived a servant in the Comte de Guiche’s livery, who ran towards him as soon as he heard his voice.
+
+“What is it?” said Raoul.
+
+“This note, monsieur. My master heard of your return and wrote to you without delay; I have been looking for you for the last half-hour.”
+
+Raoul approached Athos as he unsealed the letter, saying, “With your permission, monsieur.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Dear Raoul,” wrote the Comte de Guiche, “I have an affair in hand which requires immediate attention; I know you have returned; come to me as soon as possible.”
+
+Hardly had he finished reading it, when a servant in the livery of the Duke of Buckingham, turning out of the gallery, recognized Raoul, and approached him respectfully, saying, “From his Grace, monsieur.”
+
+“Well, Raoul, as I see you are already as busy as a general of an army, I shall leave you, and will find M. d’Artagnan myself.”
+
+“You will excuse me, I trust,” said Raoul.
+
+“Yes, yes, I excuse you; adieu, Raoul; you will find me at my apartments until to-morrow; during the day I may set out for Blois, unless I have orders to the contrary.”
+
+“I shall present my respects to you to-morrow, monsieur.”
+
+As soon as Athos had left, Raoul opened Buckingham’s letter.
+
+“Monsieur de Bragelonne,” it ran, “You are, of all the Frenchmen I have known, the one with whom I am most pleased; I am about to put your friendship to the proof. I have received a certain message, written in very good French. As I am an Englishman, I am afraid of not comprehending it very clearly. The letter has a good name attached to it, and that is all I can tell you. Will you be good enough to come and see me? for I am told you have arrived from Blois.
+
+“Your devoted
+
+“VILLIERS, Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“I am going now to see your master,” said Raoul to De Guiche’s servant, as he dismissed him; “and I shall be with the Duke of Buckingham in an hour,” he added, dismissing with these words the duke’s messenger.
+
+Chapter XIX. Sword-Thrusts in the Water.
+
+Raoul, on betaking himself to De Guiche, found him conversing with De Wardes and Manicamp. De Wardes, since the affair of the barricade, had treated Raoul as a stranger; they behaved as if they were not acquainted. As Raoul entered, De Guiche walked up to him; and Raoul, as he grasped his friend’s hand, glanced rapidly at his two companions, hoping to be able to read on their faces what was passing in their minds. De Wardes was cold and impenetrable; Manicamp seemed absorbed in the contemplation of some trimming to his dress. De Guiche led Raoul to an adjoining cabinet, and made him sit down, saying, “How well you look!”
+
+“That is singular,” replied Raoul, “for I am far from being in good spirits.”
+
+“It is your case, then, Raoul, as it is my own, -- our love affairs do not progress.”
+
+“So much the better, count, as far as you are concerned; the worst news would be good news.”
+
+“In that case do not distress yourself, for, not only am I very unhappy, but, what is more, I see others about me who are happy.”
+
+“Really, I do not understand you,” replied Raoul; “explain yourself.”
+
+“You will soon learn. I have tried, but in vain, to overcome the feeling you saw dawn in me, increase, and take entire possession of me. I have summoned all your advice and my own strength to my aid. I have well weighed the unfortunate affair in which I have embarked; I have sounded its depths; that it is an abyss, I am aware, but it matters little for I shall pursue my own course.”
+
+“This is madness, De Guiche! you cannot advance another step without risking your own ruin to-day, perhaps your life to-morrow.”
+
+“Whatever may happen, I have done with reflections; listen.”
+
+“And you hope to succeed; you believe that Madame will love you?”
+
+“Raoul, I believe nothing; I hope, because hope exists in man, and never abandons him until death.”
+
+“But, admitting that you obtain the happiness you covet, even then, you are more certainly lost than if you had failed in obtaining it.”
+
+“I beseech you, Raoul, not to interrupt me any more; you could never convince me, for I tell you beforehand, I do not wish to be convinced; I have gone so far I cannot recede; I have suffered so much, death itself would be a boon. I no longer love to madness, Raoul, I am being engulfed by a whirlpool of jealousy.”
+
+Raoul struck his hands together with an expression resembling anger. “Well?” said he.
+
+“Well or ill matters little. This is what I claim from you, my friend, my almost brother. During the last three days Madame has been living in a perfect intoxication of gayety. On the first day, I dared not look at her; I hated her for not being as unhappy as myself. The next day I could not bear her out of my sight; and she, Raoul -- at least I thought I remarked it -- she looked at me, if not with pity, at least with gentleness. But between her looks and mine, a shadow intervened; another’s smile invited hers. Beside her horse another’s always gallops, which is not mine; in her ear another’s caressing voice, not mine, unceasingly vibrates. Raoul, for three days past my brain has been on fire; flame, not blood, courses through my veins. That shadow must be driven away, that smile must be quenched; that voice must be silenced.”
+
+“You wish Monsieur’s death,” exclaimed Raoul.
+
+“No, no, I am not jealous of the husband; I am jealous of the lover.”
+
+“Of the lover?” said Raoul.
+
+“Have you not observed it, you who were formerly so keen-sighted?”
+
+“Are you jealous of the Duke of Buckingham?”
+
+“To the very death.”
+
+“Again jealous?”
+
+“This time the affair will be easy to arrange between us; I have taken the initiative, and have sent him a letter.”
+
+“It was you, then, who wrote to him?”
+
+“How do you know that?”
+
+“I know it, because he told me so. Look at this;” and he handed De Guiche the letter he had received nearly at the same moment as his own. De Guiche read it eagerly, and said, “He is a brave man, and more than that, a gallant man.”
+
+“Most certainly the duke is a gallant man; I need not ask if you wrote to him in a similar style.”
+
+“He will show you my letter when you call on him on my behalf.”
+
+“But that is almost out of the question.”
+
+“What is?”
+
+“That I shall call on him for that purpose.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“The duke consults me as you do.”
+
+“I suppose you will give me the preference! Listen to me, Raoul, I wish you to tell his Grace -- it is a very simple matter -- that to-day, to-morrow, the following day, or any other day he may choose, I will meet him at Vincennes.”
+
+“Reflect, De Guiche.”
+
+“I thought I told you I have reflected.”
+
+“The duke is a stranger here; he is on a mission which renders his person inviolable.... Vincennes is close to the Bastile.”
+
+“The consequences concern me.”
+
+“But the motive for this meeting? What motive do you wish me to assign?”
+
+“Be perfectly easy on that score, he will not ask any. The duke must be as sick of me as I am of him. I implore you, therefore, seek the duke, and if it is necessary to entreat him, to accept my offer, I will do so.”
+
+“That is useless. The duke has already informed me that he wishes to speak to me. The duke is now playing cards with the king. Let us both go there. I will draw him aside in the gallery; you will remain aloof. Two words will be sufficient.”
+
+“That is well arranged. I will take De Wardes to keep me in countenance.”
+
+“Why not Manicamp? De Wardes can join us at any time; we can leave him here.”
+
+“Yes, that is true.”
+
+“He knows nothing?”
+
+“Positively nothing. You continue still on an unfriendly footing, then?”
+
+“Has he not told you anything?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“I do not like the man, and, as I never liked him, the result is, that I am on no worse terms with him to-day than I was yesterday.”
+
+“Let us go, then.”
+
+The four descended the stairs. De Guiche’s carriage was waiting at the door, and took them to the Palais Royal. As they were going along, Raoul was engaged in devising his scheme of action. The sole depositary of two secrets, he did not despair of concluding some arrangement between the two parties. He knew the influence he exercised over Buckingham, and the ascendency he had acquired over De Guiche, and affairs did not look utterly hopeless. On their arrival in the gallery, dazzling with the blaze of light, where the most beautiful and illustrious women of the court moved to and fro, like stars in their own atmosphere, Raoul could not prevent himself for a moment forgetting De Guiche in order to seek out Louise, who, amidst her companions, like a dove completely fascinated, gazed long and fixedly upon the royal circle, which glittered with jewels and gold. All its members were standing, the king alone being seated. Raoul perceived Buckingham, who was standing a few paces from Monsieur, in a group of French and English, who were admiring his aristocratic carriage and the incomparable magnificence of his costume. Some of the older courtiers remembered having seen his father, but their recollections were not prejudicial to the son.
+
+Buckingham was conversing with Fouquet, who was talking with him aloud about Belle-Isle. “I cannot speak to him at present,” said Raoul.
+
+“Wait, then, and choose your opportunity, but finish everything speedily. I am on thorns.”
+
+“See, our deliverer approaches,” said Raoul, perceiving D’Artagnan, who, magnificently dressed in his new uniform of captain of the musketeers, had just made his entry in the gallery; and he advanced towards D’Artagnan.
+
+“The Comte de la Fere has been looking for you, chevalier,” said Raoul.
+
+“Yes,” replied D’Artagnan, “I have just left him.”
+
+“I thought you would have passed a portion of the evening together.”
+
+“We have arranged to meet again.”
+
+As he answered Raoul, his absent looks were directed on all sides, as if seeking some one in the crowd or looking for something in the room. Suddenly his gaze became fixed, like that of an eagle on its prey. Raoul followed the direction of his glance, and noticed that De Guiche and D’Artagnan saluted each other, but he could not distinguish at whom the captain’s lingering and haughty glance was aimed.
+
+“Chevalier,” said Raoul, “there is no one here but yourself who can render me a service.”
+
+“What is it, my dear vicomte?”
+
+“It is simply to go and interrupt the Duke of Buckingham, to whom I wish to say two words, and, as the duke is conversing with M. Fouquet, you understand that it would not do for me to throw myself into the middle of the conversation.”
+
+“Ah, ah, is M. Fouquet there?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“Do you not see him?”
+
+“Yes, now I do. But do you think I have a greater right than you have?”
+
+“You are a more important personage.”
+
+“Yes, you’re right; I am captain of the musketeers; I have had the post promised me so long, and have enjoyed it for so brief a period, that I am always forgetting my dignity.”
+
+“You will do me this service, will you not?”
+
+“M. Fouquet -- the deuce!”
+
+“Are you not on good terms with him?”
+
+“It is rather he who may not be on good terms with me; however, since it must be done some day or another -- ”
+
+“Stay; I think he is looking at you; or is it likely that it might be -- ”
+
+“No, no; don’t deceive yourself, it is indeed me for whom this honor is intended.”
+
+“The opportunity is a good one, then?”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“Pray go.”
+
+“Well, I will.”
+
+De Guiche had not removed his eyes from Raoul, who made a sign to him that all was arranged. D’Artagnan walked straight up to the group, and civilly saluted M. Fouquet as well as the others.
+
+“Good evening, M. d’Artagnan; we were speaking of Belle-Isle,” said Fouquet, with that usage of society, and that perfect knowledge of the language of looks, which require half a lifetime thoroughly to acquire, and which some persons, notwithstanding all their study, never attain.
+
+“Of Belle-Ile-en-Mer! Ah!” said D’Artagnan. “It belongs to you, I believe, M. Fouquet?”
+
+“M. Fouquet has just told us that he had presented it to the king,” said Buckingham.
+
+“Do you know Belle-Isle, chevalier?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“I have only been there once,” replied D’Artagnan, with readiness and good-humor.
+
+“Did you remain there long?”
+
+“Scarcely a day.”
+
+“Did you see much of it while you were there?”
+
+“All that could be seen in a day.”
+
+“A great deal can be seen with observation as keen as yours,” said Fouquet; at which D’Artagnan bowed.
+
+During this Raoul made a sign to Buckingham. “M. Fouquet,” said Buckingham, “I leave the captain with you, he is more learned than I am in bastions, scarps, and counter-scarps, and I will join one of my friends, who has just beckoned me.” Saying this, Buckingham disengaged himself from the group, and advanced towards Raoul, stopping for a moment at the table where the queen-mother, the young queen, and the king were playing together.
+
+“Now, Raoul,” said De Guiche, “there he is; be firm and quick.”
+
+Buckingham, having made some complimentary remark to Madame, continued his way towards Raoul, who advanced to meet him, while De Guiche remained in his place, though he followed him with his eyes. The maneuver was so arranged that the young men met in an open space which was left vacant, between the groups of players and the gallery, where they walked, stopping now and then for the purpose of saying a few words to some of the graver courtiers who were walking there. At the moment when the two lines were about to unite, they were broken by a third. It was Monsieur who advanced towards the Duke of Buckingham. Monsieur had his most engaging smile on his red and perfumed lips.
+
+“My dear duke,” said he, with the most affectionate politeness; “is it really true what I have just been told?”
+
+Buckingham turned round; he had not noticed Monsieur approach; but had merely heard his voice. He started in spite of his command over himself, and a slight pallor overspread his face. “Monseigneur,” he asked, “what has been told you that surprises you so much?”
+
+“That which throws me into despair, and will, in truth, be a real cause of mourning for the whole court.”
+
+“Your highness is very kind, for I perceive that you allude to my departure.”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+Guiche had overheard the conversation from where he was standing, and started in his turn. “His departure,” he murmured. “What does he say?”
+
+Philip continued with the same gracious air, “I can easily conceive, monsieur, why the king of Great Britain recalls you; we all know that King Charles II., who appreciates true gentlemen, cannot dispense with you. But it cannot be supposed we can let you go without great regret; and I beg you to receive the expression of my own.”
+
+“Believe me, monseigneur,” said the duke, “that if I quit the court of France -- ”
+
+“Because you are recalled; but, if you suppose the expression of my own wish on the subject might possibly have any influence with the king, I will gladly volunteer to entreat his majesty Charles II. to leave you with us a little while longer.”
+
+“I am overwhelmed, monseigneur, by so much kindness,” replied Buckingham; “but I have received positive commands. My residence in France was limited; I have prolonged it at the risk of displeasing my gracious sovereign. It is only this very day that I recollected I ought to have set off four days ago.”
+
+“Indeed,” said Monsieur.
+
+“Yes; but,” added Buckingham, raising his voice in such a manner that the princess could hear him, -- “but I resemble that dweller in the East, who turned mad, and remained so for several days, owing to a delightful dream that he had had, but who one day awoke, if not completely cured, in some respects rational at least. The court of France has its intoxicating properties, which are not unlike this dream, my lord; but at last I wake and leave it. I shall be unable, therefore, to prolong my residence, as your highness has so kindly invited me to do.”
+
+“When do you leave?” inquired Philip, with an expression full of interest.
+
+“To-morrow, monseigneur. My carriages have been ready for three days.”
+
+The Duc d’Orleans made a movement of the head, which seemed to signify, “Since you are determined, duke, there is nothing to be said.” Buckingham returned the gesture, concealing under a smile a contraction of his heart; and then Monsieur moved away in the same direction by which he had approached. At the same moment, however, De Guiche advanced from the opposite direction. Raoul feared that the impatient young man might possibly make the proposition himself, and hurried forth before him.
+
+“No, no, Raoul, all is useless now,” said Guiche, holding both his hands towards the duke, and leading him behind a column. “Forgive me, duke, for what I wrote to you, I was mad; give me back my letter.”
+
+“It is true,” said the duke, “you cannot owe me a grudge any longer now.”
+
+“Forgive me, duke; my friendship, my lasting friendship is yours.”
+
+“There is certainly no reason why you should bear me any ill-will from the moment I leave her never to see her again.”
+
+Raoul heard these words, and comprehending that his presence was now useless between the young men, who had now only friendly words to exchange, withdrew a few paces; a movement which brought him closer to De Wardes, who was conversing with the Chevalier de Lorraine respecting the departure of Buckingham. “A strategic retreat,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because the dear duke saves a sword-thrust by it.” At which reply both laughed.
+
+Raoul, indignant, turned round frowningly, flushed with anger and his lip curling with disdain. The Chevalier de Lorraine turned on his heel, but De Wardes remained and waited.
+
+“You will not break yourself of the habit,” said Raoul to De Wardes, “of insulting the absent; yesterday it was M. d’Artagnan, to-day it is the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“You know very well, monsieur,” returned De Wardes, “that I sometimes insult those who are present.”
+
+De Wardes was close to Raoul, their shoulders met, their faces approached, as if to mutually inflame each other by the fire of their looks and of their anger. It could be seen that the one was at the height of fury, the other at the end of his patience. Suddenly a voice was heard behind them full of grace and courtesy, saying, “I believe I heard my name pronounced.”
+
+They turned round and saw D’Artagnan, who, with a smiling eye and a cheerful face, had just placed his hand on De Wardes’s shoulder. Raoul stepped back to make room for the musketeer. De Wardes trembled from head to foot, turned pale, but did not move. D’Artagnan, still with the same smile, took the place which Raoul had abandoned to him.
+
+“Thank you, my dear Raoul,” he said. “M. de Wardes, I wish to talk with you. Do not leave us, Raoul; every one can hear what I have to say to M. de Wardes.” His smile immediately faded away, and his glace became cold and sharp as a sword.
+
+“I am at your orders, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
+
+“For a very long time,” resumed D’Artagnan, “I have sought an opportunity of conversing with you; to-day is the first time I have found it. The place is badly chosen, I admit, but you will perhaps have the goodness to accompany me to my apartments, which are on the staircase at the end of this gallery.”
+
+“I follow you, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Are you alone here?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“No; I have M. Manicamp and M. de Guiche, two of my friends.”
+
+“That’s well,” said D’Artagnan; “but two persons are not sufficient; you will be able to find a few others, I trust.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the young man, who did not know what object D’Artagnan had in view. “As many as you please.”
+
+“Are they friends?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“Real friends?”
+
+“No doubt of it.”
+
+“Very well, get a good supply, then. Do you come, too, Raoul; bring M. de Guiche and the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“What a disturbance,” replied De Wardes, attempting to smile. The captain slightly signed to him with his hand, as though to recommend him to be patient, and then led the way to his apartments. [2]
+
+Chapter XX. Sword-Thrusts in the Water (concluded).
+
+D’Artagnan’s apartment was not unoccupied; for the Comte de la Fere, seated in the recess of a window, awaited him. “Well,” said he to D’Artagnan, as he saw him enter.
+
+“Well,” said the latter, “M. de Wardes has done me the honor to pay me a visit, in company with some of his own friends, as well as of ours.” In fact, behind the musketeer appeared De Wardes and Manicamp, followed by De Guiche and Buckingham, who looked surprised, not knowing what was expected of them. Raoul was accompanied by two or three gentlemen; and, as he entered, glanced round the room, and perceiving the count, he went and placed himself by his side. D’Artagnan received his visitors with all the courtesy he was capable of; he preserved his unmoved and unconcerned look. All the persons present were men of distinction, occupying posts of honor and credit at the court. After he had apologized to each of them for any inconvenience he might have put them to, he turned towards De Wardes, who, in spite of his customary self-command, could not prevent his face betraying some surprise mingled with not a little uneasiness.
+
+“Now, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, “since we are no longer within the precincts of the king’s palace, and since we can speak out without failing in respect to propriety, I will inform you why I have taken the liberty to request you to visit me here, and why I have invited these gentlemen to be present at the same time. My friend, the Comte de la Fere, has acquainted me with the injurious reports you are spreading about myself. You have stated that you regard me as your mortal enemy, because I was, so you affirm, that of your father.”
+
+“Perfectly true, monsieur, I have said so,” replied De Wardes, whose pallid face became slightly tinged with color.
+
+“You accuse me, therefore, of a crime, or a fault, or of some mean and cowardly act. Have the goodness to state your charge against me in precise terms.”
+
+“In the presence of witnesses?”
+
+“Most certainly in the presence of witnesses; and you see I have selected them as being experienced in affairs of honor.”
+
+“You do not appreciate my delicacy, monsieur. I have accused you, it is true; but I have kept the nature of the accusation a perfect secret. I entered into no details; but have rested satisfied by expressing my hatred in the presence of those on whom a duty was almost imposed to acquaint you with it. You have not taken the discreetness I have shown into consideration, although you were interested in remaining silent. I can hardly recognize your habitual prudence in that, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+D’Artagnan, who was quietly biting the corner of his moustache, said, “I have already had the honor to beg you to state the particulars of the grievances you say you have against me.”
+
+“Aloud?”
+
+“Certainly, aloud.”
+
+“In that case, I will speak.”
+
+“Speak, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, bowing; “we are all listening to you.”
+
+“Well, monsieur, it is not a question of a personal injury towards myself, but one towards my father.”
+
+“That you have already stated.”
+
+“Yes; but there are certain subjects which are only approached with hesitation.”
+
+“If that hesitation, in your case, really does exist, I entreat you to overcome it.”
+
+“Even if it refer to a disgraceful action?”
+
+“Yes; in every and any case.”
+
+Those who were present at this scene had, at first, looked at each other with a good deal of uneasiness. They were reassured, however, when they saw that D’Artagnan manifested no emotion whatever.
+
+De Wardes still maintained the same unbroken silence. “Speak, monsieur,” said the musketeer; “you see you are keeping us waiting.”
+
+“Listen, then: -- My father loved a lady of noble birth, and this lady loved my father.” D’Artagnan and Athos exchanged looks. De Wardes continued: “M. d’Artagnan found some letters which indicated a rendezvous, substituted himself, under disguise, for the person who was expected, and took advantage of the darkness.”
+
+“That is perfectly true,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+A slight murmur was heard from those present. “Yes, I was guilty of that dishonorable action. You should have added, monsieur, since you are so impartial, that, at the period when the circumstance which you have just related happened, I was not one-and-twenty years of age.”
+
+A renewed murmur was heard, but this time of astonishment, and almost of doubt.
+
+“It was a most shameful deception, I admit,” said D’Artagnan, “and I have not waited for M. de Wardes’s reproaches to reproach myself for it, and very bitterly, too. Age has, however, made me more reasonable, and, above all, more upright; and this injury has been atoned for by a long and lasting regret. But I appeal to you, gentlemen; this affair took place in 1626, at a period, happily for yourselves, known to you by tradition only, at a period when love was not over-scrupulous, when consciences did not distill, as in the present day, poison and bitterness. We were young soldiers, always fighting, or being attacked, our swords always in our hands, or at least ready to be drawn from their sheaths. Death then always stared us in the face, war hardened us, and the cardinal pressed us sorely. I have repented of it, and more than that -- I still repent it, M. de Wardes.”
+
+“I can well understand that, monsieur, for the action itself needed repentance; but you were not the less the cause of that lady’s disgrace. She, of whom you have been speaking, covered with shame, borne down by the affront you brought upon her, fled, quitted France, and no one ever knew what became of her.”
+
+“Stay,” said the Comte de la Fere, stretching his hand towards De Wardes, with a peculiar smile upon his face, “you are mistaken; she was seen; and there are persons even now present, who, having often heard her spoken of, will easily recognize her by the description I am about to give. She was about five-and-twenty years of age, slender in form, of a pale complexion, and fair-haired; she was married in England.”
+
+“Married?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“So, you were not aware she was married? You see we are far better informed than yourself. Do you happen to know she was usually styled ‘My Lady,’ without the addition of any name to that description?”
+
+“Yes, I know that.”
+
+“Good Heavens!” murmured Buckingham.
+
+“Very well, monsieur. That woman, who came from England, returned to England after having thrice attempted M. d’Artagnan’s life. That was but just, you will say, since M. d’Artagnan had insulted her. But that which was not just was, that, when in England, this woman, by her seductions, completely enslaved a young man in the service of Lord de Winter, by name Felton. You change color, my lord,” said Athos, turning to the Duke of Buckingham, “and your eyes kindle with anger and sorrow. Let your Grace finish the recital, then, and tell M. de Wardes who this woman was who placed the knife in the hand of your father’s murderer.”
+
+A cry escaped from the lips of all present. The young duke passed his handkerchief across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. A dead silence ensued among the spectators.
+
+“You see, M. de Wardes,” said D’Artagnan, whom this recital had impressed more and more, as his own recollection revived as Athos spoke, “you see that my crime did not cause the destruction of any one’s soul, and that the soul in question may fairly be considered to have been altogether lost before my regret. It is, however, an act of conscience on my part. Now this matter is settled, therefore, it remains for me to ask, with the greatest humility, your forgiveness for this shameless action, as most certainly I should have asked it of your father, if he were still alive, and if I had met him after my return to France, subsequent to the death of King Charles I.”
+
+“That is too much, M. d’Artagnan,” exclaimed many voices, with animation.
+
+“No, gentlemen,” said the captain. “And now, M. de Wardes, I hope all is finished between us, and that you will have no further occasion to speak ill of me again. Do you consider it completely settled?”
+
+De Wardes bowed, and muttered to himself inarticulately.
+
+“I trust also,” said D’Artagnan, approaching the young man closely, “that you will no longer speak ill of any one, as it seems you have the unfortunate habit of doing; for a man so puritanically conscientious as you are, who can reproach an old soldier for a youthful freak five-and-thirty years after it happened, will allow me to ask whether you, who advocate such excessive purity of conscience, will undertake on your side to do nothing contrary either to conscience or the principle of honor. And now, listen attentively to what I am going to say, M. de Wardes, in conclusion. Take care that no tale, with which your name may be associated, reaches my ear.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said De Wardes, “it is useless threatening to no purpose.”
+
+“I have not yet finished, M. de Wardes, and you must listen to me still further.” The circle of listeners, full of eager curiosity, drew closer. “You spoke just now of the honor of a woman, and of the honor of your father. We were glad to hear you speak in that manner; for it is pleasing to think that such a sentiment of delicacy and rectitude, and which did not exist, it seems, in our minds, lives in our children; and it is delightful, too, to see a young man, at an age when men from habit become the destroyers of the honor of women, respect and defend it.”
+
+De Wardes bit his lip and clenched his hands, evidently much disturbed to learn how this discourse, the commencement of which was announced in so threatening a manner, would terminate.
+
+“How did it happen, then, that you allowed yourself to say to M. de Bragelonne that he did not know who his mother was?”
+
+Raoul’s eyes flashed, as, darting forward, he exclaimed, -- “Chevalier, this is a personal affair of my own!” At which exclamation, a smile, full of malice, passed across De Wardes’s face.
+
+D’Artagnan put Raoul aside, saying, -- “Do not interrupt me, young man.” And looking at De Wardes in an authoritative manner, he continued: -- “I am now dealing with a matter which cannot be settled by means of the sword. I discuss it before men of honor, all of whom have more than once had their swords in their hands in affairs of honor. I selected them expressly. These gentlemen well know that every secret for which men fight ceases to be a secret. I again put my question to M. de Wardes. What was the subject of conversation when you offended this young man, in offending his father and mother at the same time?”
+
+“It seems to me,” returned De Wardes, “that liberty of speech is allowed, when it is supported by every means which a man of courage has at his disposal.”
+
+“Tell me what the means are by which a man of courage can sustain a slanderous expression.”
+
+“The sword.”
+
+“You fail, not only in logic, in your argument, but in religion and honor. You expose the lives of many others, without referring to your own, which seems to be full of hazard. Besides, fashions pass away, monsieur, and the fashion of duelling has passed away, without referring in any way to the edicts of his majesty which forbid it. Therefore, in order to be consistent with your own chivalrous notions, you will at once apologize to M. de Bragelonne; you will tell him how much you regret having spoken so lightly, and that the nobility and purity of his race are inscribed, not in his heart alone, but still more in every action of his life. You will do and say this, M. de Wardes, as I, an old officer, did and said just now to your boy’s moustache.”
+
+“And if I refuse?” inquired De Wardes.
+
+“In that case the result will be -- ”
+
+“That which you think you will prevent,” said De Wardes, laughing; “the result will be that your conciliatory address will end in a violation of the king’s prohibition.”
+
+“Not so,” said the captain, “you are quite mistaken.”
+
+“What will be the result, then?”
+
+“The result will be that I shall go to the king, with whom I am on tolerably good terms, to whom I have been happy enough to render certain services, dating from a period when you were not born, and who, at my request, has just sent me an order in blank for M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun, governor of the Bastile; and I shall say to the king: ‘Sire, a man has in a most cowardly way insulted M. de Bragelonne by insulting his mother; I have written this man’s name upon the lettre de cachet which your majesty has been kind enough to give me, so that M. de Wardes is in the Bastile for three years.” And D’Artagnan, drawing the order signed by the king from his pocket, held it towards De Wardes.
+
+Remarking that the young man was not quite convinced, and received the warning as an idle threat, he shrugged his shoulders and walked leisurely towards the table, upon which lay a writing-case and a pen, the length of which would have terrified the topographical Porthos. De Wardes then saw that nothing could well be more seriously intended than the threat in question, for the Bastile, even at that period, was already held in dread. He advanced a step towards Raoul, and, in an almost unintelligible voice, said, -- “I offer my apologies in the terms which M. d’Artagnan just now dictated, and which I am forced to make to you.”
+
+“One moment, monsieur,” said the musketeer, with the greatest tranquillity, “you mistake the terms of the apology. I did not say, ‘and which I am forced to make’; I said, ‘and which my conscience induces me to make.’ This latter expression, believe me, is better than the former; and it will be far preferable, since it will be the most truthful expression of your own sentiments.”
+
+“I subscribe to it,” said De Wardes; “but submit, gentlemen, that a thrust of the sword through the body, as was the custom formerly, was far better than tyranny like this.”
+
+“No, monsieur,” replied Buckingham; “for the sword-thrust, when received, was no indication that a particular person was right or wrong; it only showed that he was more or less skillful in the use of the weapon.”
+
+“Monsieur!” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“There, now,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “you are going to say something very rude, and I am rendering a service by stopping you in time.”
+
+“Is that all, monsieur?” inquired De Wardes.
+
+“Absolutely everything,” replied D’Artagnan; “and these gentlemen, as well as myself, are quite satisfied with you.”
+
+“Believe me, monsieur, that your reconciliations are not successful.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Because, as we are now about to separate, I would wager that M. de Bragelonne and myself are greater enemies than ever.”
+
+“You are deceived, monsieur, as far as I am concerned,” returned Raoul; “for I do not retain the slightest animosity in my heart against you.”
+
+This last blow overwhelmed De Wardes. He cast his eyes around him like a man bewildered. D’Artagnan saluted most courteously the gentlemen who had been present at the explanation; and every one, on leaving the room, shook hands with him; but not one hand was held out towards De Wardes. “Oh!” exclaimed the young man, “can I not find some one on whom to wreak my vengeance?”
+
+“You can, monsieur, for I am here,” whispered a voice full of menace in his ear.
+
+De Wardes turned round, and saw the Duke of Buckingham, who, having probably remained behind with that intention, had just approached him. “You, monsieur?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“Yes, I! I am no subject of the king of France; I am not going to remain on the territory, since I am about setting off for England. I have accumulated in my heart such a mass of despair and rage, that I, too, like yourself, need to revenge myself upon some one. I approve M. d’Artagnan’s principles profoundly, but I am not bound to apply them to you. I am an Englishman, and, in my turn, I propose to you what you proposed to others to no purpose. Since you, therefore, are so terribly incensed, take me as a remedy. In thirty-four hours’ time I shall be at Calais. Come with me; the journey will appear shorter if together, than if alone. We will fight, when we get there, upon the sands which are covered by the rising tide, and which form part of the French territory during six hours of the day, but belong to the territory of Heaven during the other six.”
+
+“I accept willingly,” said De Wardes.
+
+“I assure you,” said the duke, “that if you kill me, you will be rendering me an infinite service.”
+
+“I will do my utmost to make myself agreeable to you, duke,” said De Wardes.
+
+“It is agreed, then, that I carry you off with me?”
+
+“I shall be at your commands. I needed some real danger and some mortal risk to run, to tranquilize me.”
+
+“In that case, I think you have met with what you are looking for. Farewell, M. de Wardes; to-morrow morning, my valet will tell you the exact hour of our departure; we can travel together like two excellent friends. I generally travel as fast as I can. Adieu.”
+
+Buckingham saluted De Wardes, and returned towards the king’s apartments; De Wardes, irritated beyond measure, left the Palais Royal, and hurried through the streets homeward to the house where he lodged.
+
+Chapter XXI. Baisemeaux de Montlezun.
+
+After the austere lesson administered to De Wardes, Athos and D’Artagnan together descended the staircase which led to the courtyard of the Palais Royal. “You perceive,” said Athos to D’Artagnan, “that Raoul cannot, sooner or later, avoid a duel with De Wardes, for De Wardes is as brave as he is vicious and wicked.”
+
+“I know such fellows well,” replied D’Artagnan; “I had an affair with the father. I assure you that, although at that time I had good muscles and a sort of brute courage -- I assure you that the father did me some mischief. But you should have seen how I fought it out with him. Ah, Athos, such encounters never take place in these times! I had a hand which could never remain at rest, a hand like quicksilver, -- you knew its quality, for you have seen me at work. My sword was no longer than a piece of steel; it was a serpent that assumed every form and every length, seeking where it might thrust its head; in other words, where it might fix its bite. I advanced half a dozen paces, then three, and then, body to body, I pressed my antagonist closely, then I darted back again ten paces. No human power could resist that ferocious ardor. Well, De Wardes the father, with the bravery of his race, with his dogged courage, occupied a good deal of my time; and my fingers, at the end of the engagement, were, I well remember, tired enough.”
+
+“It is, then, as I said,” resumed Athos, “the son will always be looking out for Raoul, and will end by meeting him; and Raoul can easily be found when he is sought for.”
+
+“Agreed; but Raoul calculates well; he bears no grudge against De Wardes, -- he has said so; he will wait until he is provoked, and in that case his position is a good one. The king will not be able to get out of temper about the matter; besides we shall know how to pacify his majesty. But why so full of these fears and anxieties? You don’t easily get alarmed.”
+
+“I will tell you what makes me anxious; Raoul is to see the king to-morrow, when his majesty will inform him of his wishes respecting a certain marriage. Raoul, loving as he does, will get out of temper, and once in an angry mood, if he were to meet De Wardes, the shell would explode.”
+
+“We will prevent the explosion.”
+
+“Not I,” said Athos, “for I must return to Blois. All this gilded elegance of the court, all these intrigues, sicken me. I am no longer a young man who can make terms with the meanness of the day. I have read in the Great Book many things too beautiful and too comprehensive to longer take any interest in the trifling phrases which these men whisper among themselves when they wish to deceive others. In one word, I am weary of Paris wherever and whenever you are not with me; and as I cannot have you with me always, I wish to return to Blois.”
+
+“How wrong you are, Athos; how you gainsay your origin and the destiny of your noble nature. Men of your stamp are created to continue, to the very last moment, in full possession of their great faculties. Look at my sword, a Spanish blade, the one I wore at La Rochelle; it served me for thirty years without fail; one day in the winter it fell upon the marble floor on the Louvre and was broken. I had a hunting-knife made of it which will last a hundred years yet. You, Athos, with your loyalty, your frankness, your cool courage, and your sound information, are the very man kings need to warn and direct them. Remain here; Monsieur Fouquet will not last as long as my Spanish blade.”
+
+“Is it possible,” said Athos, smiling, “that my friend, D’Artagnan, who, after having raised me to the skies, making me an object of worship, casts me down from the top of Olympus, and hurls me to the ground? I have more exalted ambition, D’Artagnan. To be a minister -- to be a slave, -- never! Am I not still greater? I am nothing. I remember having heard you occasionally call me ‘the great Athos’; I defy you, therefore, if I were minister, to continue to bestow that title upon me. No, no; I do not yield myself in this manner.”
+
+“We will not speak of it any more, then; renounce everything, even the brotherly feeling which unites us.”
+
+“It is almost cruel what you say.”
+
+D’Artagnan pressed Athos’s hand warmly. “No, no; renounce everything without fear. Raoul can get on without you. I am at Paris.”
+
+“In that case I shall return to Blois. We will take leave of each other to-night; to-morrow at daybreak I shall be on my horse again.”
+
+“You cannot return to your hotel alone; why did you not bring Grimaud with you?”
+
+“Grimaud takes his rest now; he goes to bed early, for my poor old servant gets easily fatigued. He came from Blois with me, and I compelled him to remain within doors; for if, in retracing the forty leagues which separate us from Blois, he needed to draw breath even, he would die without a murmur. But I don’t want to lose Grimaud.”
+
+“You shall have one of my musketeers to carry a torch for you. Hola! some one there,” called out D’Artagnan, leaning over the gilded balustrade. The heads of seven or eight musketeers appeared. “I wish some gentleman, who is so disposed, to escort the Comte de la Fere,” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“Thank you for your readiness, gentlemen,” said Athos; “I regret to have occasion to trouble you in this manner.”
+
+“I would willingly escort the Comte de la Fere,” said some one, “if I had not to speak to Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Who is that?” said D’Artagnan, looking into the darkness.
+
+“I, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Heaven forgive me, if that is not Monsieur Baisemeaux’s voice.”
+
+“It is, monsieur.”
+
+“What are you doing in the courtyard, my dear Baisemeaux?”
+
+“I am waiting your orders, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Wretch that I am,” thought D’Artagnan; “true, you have been told, I suppose, that some one was to be arrested, and have come yourself, instead of sending an officer?”
+
+“I came because I had occasion to speak to you.”
+
+“You did not send to me?”
+
+“I waited until you were disengaged,” said Monsieur Baisemeaux, timidly.
+
+“I leave you, D’Artagnan,” said Athos.
+
+“Not before I have present Monsieur Baisemeaux de Montlezun, the governor of the Bastile.”
+
+Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other.
+
+“Surely you must know each other,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux,” said Athos.
+
+“You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king’s guardsman with whom we used formerly to have such delightful meetings in the cardinal’s time?”
+
+“Perfectly,” said Athos, taking leave of him with affability.
+
+“Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose nom de guerre was Athos,” whispered D’Artagnan to Baisemeaux.
+
+“Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four.”
+
+“Precisely so. But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?”
+
+“If you please.”
+
+“In the first place, as for the orders -- there are none. The king does not intend to arrest the person in question.
+
+“So much the worse,” said Baisemeaux with a sigh.
+
+“What do you mean by so much the worse?” exclaimed D’Artagnan, laughing.
+
+“No doubt of it,” returned the governor, “my prisoners are my income.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light.”
+
+“And so there are no orders,” repeated Baisemeaux with a sigh. “What an admirable situation yours is, captain,” he continued, after a pause; “captain-lieutenant of the musketeers.”
+
+“Oh, it is good enough; but I don’t see why you should envy me; you, governor of the Bastile, the first castle in France.”
+
+“I am well aware of that,” said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful tone of voice.
+
+“You say that like a man confessing his sins. I would willingly exchange my profits for yours.”
+
+“Don’t speak of profits to me, if you wish to save me the bitterest anguish of mind.”
+
+“Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as if you were afraid of being arrested yourself, you whose business it is to arrest others?”
+
+“I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to us; it would be safer to confer more in private, if you would grant me such a favor.”
+
+“Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five and thirty years’ standing. Don’t assume such sanctified airs; make yourself quite comfortable; I don’t eat governors of the Bastile raw.”
+
+“Heaven be praised!”
+
+“Come into the courtyard with me; it’s a beautiful moonlit night; we will walk up and down, arm in arm, under the trees, while you tell me your pitiful tale.” He drew the doleful governor into the courtyard, took him by the arm as he had said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried: “Out with it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?”
+
+“It’s a long story.”
+
+“You prefer your own lamentations, then; my opinion is, it will be longer than ever. I’ll wager you are making fifty thousand francs out of your pigeons in the Bastile.”
+
+“Would to heaven that were the case, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“You surprise me, Baisemeaux; just look at you, acting the anchorite. I should like to show you your face in a glass, and you would see how plump and florid-looking you are, as fat and round as a cheese, with eyes like lighted coals; and if it were not for that ugly wrinkle you try to cultivate on your forehead, you would hardly look fifty years old, and you are sixty, if I am not mistaken.”
+
+“All quite true.”
+
+“Of course I knew it was true, as true as the fifty thousand francs profit you make;” at which remark Baisemeaux stamped on the ground.
+
+“Well, well,” said D’Artagnan, “I will add up your accounts for you: you were captain of M. Mazarin’s guards; and twelve thousand francs a year would in twelve years amount to one hundred and forty thousand francs.”
+
+“Twelve thousand francs! Are you mad?” cried Baisemeaux; “the old miser gave me no more than six thousand, and the expenses of the post amounted to six thousand five hundred francs. M. Colbert, who deducted the other six thousand francs, condescended to allow me to take fifty thousand francs as a gratification; so that, if it were not for my little estate at Montlezun, which brings me in twelve thousand francs a year, I could not have met my engagements.”
+
+“Well, then, how about the fifty thousand francs from the Bastile? There, I trust, you are boarded and lodged, and get your six thousand francs salary besides.”
+
+“Admitted!”
+
+“Whether the year be good or bad, there are fifty prisoners, who, on the average, bring you in a thousand francs a year each.”
+
+“I don’t deny it.”
+
+“Well, there is at once an income of fifty thousand francs; you have held the post three years, and must have received in that time one hundred and fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“You forget one circumstance, dear M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“That while you received your appointment as captain from the king himself, I received mine as governor from Messieurs Tremblay and Louviere.”
+
+“Quite right, and Tremblay was not a man to let you have the post for nothing.”
+
+“Nor Louviere either: the result was, that I gave seventy-five thousand francs to Tremblay as his share.”
+
+“Very agreeable that! and to Louviere?”
+
+“The very same.”
+
+“Money down?”
+
+“No: that would have been impossible. The king did not wish, or rather M. Mazarin did not wish, to have the appearance of removing those two gentlemen, who had sprung from the barricades; he permitted them, therefore, to make certain extravagant conditions for their retirement.”
+
+“What were those conditions?”
+
+“Tremble... three years’ income for the good-will.”
+
+“The deuce! so that the one hundred and fifty thousand francs have passed into their hands.”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“And beyond that?”
+
+“A sum of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, or fifteen thousand pistoles, whichever you please, in three payments.”
+
+“Exorbitant.”
+
+“Yes, but that is not all.”
+
+“What besides?”
+
+“In default of the fulfillment by me of any one of those conditions, those gentlemen enter upon their functions again. The king has been induced to sign that.”
+
+“It is monstrous, incredible!”
+
+“Such is the fact, however.”
+
+“I do indeed pity you, Baisemeaux. But why, in the name of fortune, did M. Mazarin grant you this pretended favor? It would have been far better to have refused you altogether.”
+
+“Certainly, but he was strongly persuaded to do so by my protector.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“One of your own friends, indeed; M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“M. d’Herblay! Aramis!”
+
+“Just so; he has been very kind towards me.”
+
+“Kind! to make you enter into such a bargain!”
+
+“Listen! I wished to leave the cardinal’s service. M. d’Herblay spoke on my behalf to Louviere and Tremblay -- they objected; I wished to have the appointment very much, for I knew what it could be made to produce; in my distress I confided in M. d’Herblay, and he offered to become my surety for the different payments.”
+
+“You astound me! Aramis became your surety?”
+
+“Like a man of honor; he procured the signature; Tremblay and Louviere resigned their appointments; I have paid every year twenty-five thousand francs to these two gentlemen; on the thirty-first of May, every year, M. d’Herblay himself comes to the Bastile, and brings me five thousand pistoles to distribute between my crocodiles.”
+
+“You owe Aramis one hundred and fifty thousand francs, then?”
+
+“That is the very thing which is the cause of my despair, for I only owe him one hundred thousand.”
+
+“I don’t quite understand you.”
+
+“He came and settled with the vampires only two years. To-day, however, is the thirty-first of May, and he has not been yet, and to-morrow, at midday, the payment falls due; if, therefore, I don’t pay to-morrow, those gentlemen can, by the terms of the contract, break off the bargain; I shall be stripped of everything; I shall have worked for three years, and given two hundred and fifty thousand francs for nothing, absolutely for nothing at all, dear M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“This is very strange,” murmured D’Artagnan.
+
+“You can now imagine that I may well have wrinkles on my forehead, can you not?”
+
+“Yes, indeed!”
+
+“And you can imagine, too, that notwithstanding I may be as round as a cheese, with a complexion like an apple, and my eyes like coals on fire, I may almost be afraid that I shall not have a cheese or an apple left me to eat, and that my eyes will be left me only to weep with.”
+
+“It is really a very grievous affair.”
+
+“I have come to you, M. d’Artagnan, for you are the only man who can get me out of my trouble.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“You are acquainted with the Abbe d’Herblay, and you know that he is a somewhat mysterious gentleman.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, you can, perhaps, give me the address of his presbytery, for I have been to Noisy-le-Sec, and he is no longer there.”
+
+“I should think not, indeed. He is Bishop of Vannes.”
+
+“What! Vannes in Bretagne?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+The little man began to tear his hair, saying, “How can I get to Vannes from here by midday to-morrow? I am a lost man.”
+
+“Your despair quite distresses me.”
+
+“Vannes, Vannes!” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“But listen; a bishop is not always a resident. M. d’Herblay may not possibly be so far away as you fear.”
+
+“Pray tell me his address.”
+
+“I really don’t know it.”
+
+“In that case I am lost. I will go and throw myself at the king’s feet.”
+
+“But, Baisemeaux, I can hardly believe what you tell me; besides, since the Bastile is capable of producing fifty thousand francs a year, why have you not tried to screw one hundred thousand out of it?”
+
+“Because I am an honest man, M. d’Artagnan, and because my prisoners are fed like ambassadors.”
+
+“Well, you’re in a fair way to get out of your difficulties; give yourself a good attack of indigestion with your excellent living, and put yourself out of the way between this and midday to-morrow.”
+
+“How can you be hard-hearted enough to laugh?”
+
+“Nay, you really afflict me. Come, Baisemeaux, if you can pledge me your word of honor, do so, that you will not open your lips to any one about what I am going to say to you.”
+
+“Never, never!”
+
+“You wish to put your hands on Aramis?”
+
+“At any cost!”
+
+“Well, go and see where M. Fouquet is.”
+
+“Why, what connection can there be -- ”
+
+“How stupid you are! Don’t you know that Vannes is in the diocese of Belle-Isle, or Belle-Isle in the diocese of Vannes? Belle-Isle belongs to M. Fouquet, and M. Fouquet nominated M. d’Herblay to that bishopric!”
+
+“I see, I see; you restore me to life again.”
+
+“So much the better. Go and tell M. Fouquet very simply that you wish to speak to M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“Of course, of course,” exclaimed Baisemeaux, delightedly.
+
+“But,” said D’Artagnan, checking him by a severe look, “your word of honor?”
+
+“I give you my sacred word of honor,” replied the little man, about to set off running.
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To M. Fouquet’s house.”
+
+“It is useless doing that; M. Fouquet is playing at cards with the king. All you can do is to pay M. Fouquet a visit early to-morrow morning.”
+
+“I will do so. Thank you.”
+
+“Good luck attend you,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“This is a strange affair,” murmured D’Artagnan, as he slowly ascended the staircase after he had left Baisemeaux. “What possible interest can Aramis have in obliging Baisemeaux in this manner? Well, I suppose we shall learn some day or another.”
+
+Chapter XXII. The King’s Card-Table.
+
+Fouquet was present, as D’Artagnan had said, at the king’s card-table. It seemed as if Buckingham’s departure had shed a balm on the lacerated hearts of the previous evening. Monsieur, radiant with delight, made a thousand affectionate signs to his mother. The Count de Guiche could not separate himself from Buckingham, and while playing, conversed with him upon the circumstance of his projected voyage. Buckingham, thoughtful, and kind in his manner, like a man who has adopted a resolution, listened to the count, and from time to time cast a look full of regret and hopeless affection at Madame. The princess, in the midst of her elation of spirits, divided her attention between the king, who was playing with her, Monsieur, who quietly joked her about her enormous winnings, and De Guiche, who exhibited an extravagant delight. Of Buckingham she took but little notice; for her, this fugitive, this exile, was now simply a remembrance, no longer a man. Light hearts are thus constituted; while they themselves continue untouched, they roughly break off with every one who may possibly interfere with their little calculations of self comfort. Madame had received Buckingham’s smiles and attentions and sighs while he was present; but what was the good of sighing, smiling, and kneeling at a distance? Can one tell in what direction the winds in the Channel, which toss mighty vessels to and fro, carry such sighs as these? The duke could not fail to mark this change, and his heart was cruelly hurt. Of a sensitive character, proud and susceptible of deep attachment, he cursed the day on which such a passion had entered his heart. The looks he cast, from time to time at Madame, became colder by degrees at the chilling complexion of his thoughts. He could hardly yet despair, but he was strong enough to impose silence upon the tumultuous outcries of his heart. In exact proportion, however, as Madame suspected this change of feeling, she redoubled her activity to regain the ray of light she was about to lose; her timid and indecisive mind was displayed in brilliant flashes of wit and humor. At any cost she felt that she must be remarked above everything and every one, even above the king himself. And she was so, for the queens, notwithstanding their dignity, and the king, despite the respect which etiquette required, were all eclipsed by her. The queens, stately and ceremonious, were softened and could not restrain their laughter. Madame Henriette, the queen-mother, was dazzled by the brilliancy which cast distinction upon her family, thanks to the wit of the grand-daughter of Henry IV. The king, jealous, as a young man and as a monarch, of the superiority of those who surrounded him, could not resist admitting himself vanquished by a petulance so thoroughly French in its nature, whose energy more than ever increased by English humor. Like a child, he was captivated by her radiant beauty, which her wit made still more dazzling. Madame’s eyes flashed like lightning. Wit and humor escaped from her scarlet lips like persuasion from the lips of Nestor of old. The whole court, subdued by her enchanting grace, noticed for the first time that laughter could be indulged in before the greatest monarch in the world, like people who merited their appellation of the wittiest and most polished people in Europe.
+
+Madame, from that evening, achieved and enjoyed a success capable of bewildering all not born to those altitudes termed thrones; which, in spite of their elevation, are sheltered from such giddiness. From that very moment Louis XIV. acknowledged Madame as a person to be recognized. Buckingham regarded her as a coquette deserving the cruelest tortures, and De Guiche looked upon her as a divinity; the courtiers as a star whose light might some day become the focus of all favor and power. And yet Louis XIV., a few years previously, had not even condescended to offer his hand to that “ugly girl” for a ballet; and Buckingham had worshipped this coquette “on both knees.” De Guiche had once looked upon this divinity as a mere woman; and the courtiers had not dared to extol this star in her upward progress, fearful to disgust the monarch whom such a dull star had formerly displeased.
+
+Let us see what was taking place during this memorable evening at the king’s card-table. The young queen, although Spanish by birth, and the niece of Anne of Austria, loved the king, and could not conceal her affection. Anne of Austria, a keen observer, like all women, and imperious, like every queen, was sensible of Madame’s power, and acquiesced in it immediately, a circumstance which induced the young queen to raise the siege and retire to her apartments. The king hardly paid any attention to her departure, notwithstanding the pretended symptoms of indisposition by which it was accompanied. Encouraged by the rules of etiquette, which he had begun to introduce at the court as an element of every relation of life, Louis XIV. did not disturb himself; he offered his hand to Madame without looking at Monsieur his brother, and led the young princess to the door of her apartments. It was remarked, that at the threshold of the door, his majesty, freed from every restraint, or not equal to the situation, sighed very deeply. The ladies present -- nothing escapes a woman’s glance -- Mademoiselle Montalais, for instance -- did not fail to say to each other, “the king sighed,” and “Madame sighed too.” This had been indeed the case. Madame had sighed very noiselessly, but with an accompaniment very far more dangerous for the king’s repose. Madame had sighed, first closing her beautiful black eyes, next opening them, and then, laden, as they were, with an indescribable mournfulness of expression, she had raised them towards the king, whose face at that moment visibly heightened in color. The consequence of these blushes, of those interchanged sighs, and of this royal agitation, was, that Montalais had committed an indiscretion which had certainly affected her companion, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, less clear sighted, perhaps, turned pale when the king blushed; and her attendance being required upon Madame, she tremblingly followed the princess without thinking of taking the gloves, which court etiquette required her to do. True it is that the young country girl might allege as her excuse the agitation into which the king seemed to be thrown, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, busily engaged in closing the door, had involuntarily fixed her eyes upon the king, who, as he retired backwards, had his face towards it. The king returned to the room where the card-tables were set out. He wished to speak to the different persons there, but it was easy to see that his mind was absent. He jumbled different accounts together, which was taken advantage of by some of the noblemen who had retained those habits since the time of Monsieur Mazarin -- who had a poor memory, but was a good calculator. In this way, Monsieur Manicamp, with a thoughtless and absent air -- for M. Manicamp was the honestest man in the world, appropriated twenty thousand francs, which were littering the table, and which did not seem to belong to any person in particular. In the same way, Monsieur de Wardes, whose head was doubtless a little bewildered by the occurrences of the evening, somehow forgot to leave behind him the sixty double louis which he had won for the Duke of Buckingham, and which the duke, incapable, like his father, of soiling his hands with coin of any sort, had left lying on the table before him. The king only recovered his attention in some degree at the moment that Monsieur Colbert, who had been narrowly observant for some minutes, approached, and, doubtless, with great respect, yet with much perseverance, whispered a counsel of some sort into the still tingling ears of the king. The king, at the suggestion, listened with renewed attention and immediately looking around him, said, “Is Monsieur Fouquet no longer here?”
+
+“Yes, sire, I am here,” replied the superintendent, till then engaged with Buckingham, and approached the king, who advanced a step towards him with a smiling yet negligent air. “Forgive me,” said Louis, “if I interrupt your conversation; but I claim your attention wherever I may require your services.”
+
+“I am always at the king’s service,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“And your cash-box, too,” said the king, laughing with a false smile.
+
+“My cash-box more than anything else,” said Fouquet, coldly.
+
+“The fact is, I wish to give a fete at Fontainebleau -- to keep open house for fifteen days, and I shall require -- ” and he stopped, glancing at Colbert. Fouquet waited without showing discomposure; and the king resumed, answering Colbert’s icy smile, “four million francs.”
+
+“Four million,” repeated Fouquet, bowing profoundly. And his nails, buried in his bosom, were thrust into his flesh, but the tranquil expression of his face remained unaltered. “When will they be required, sire?”
+
+“Take your time, -- I mean -- no, no; as soon as possible.”
+
+“A certain time will be necessary, sire.”
+
+“Time!” exclaimed Colbert, triumphantly.
+
+“The time, monsieur,” said the superintendent, with the haughtiest disdain, “simply to count the money; a million can only be drawn and weighed in a day.”
+
+“Four days, then,” said Colbert.
+
+“My clerks,” replied Fouquet, addressing himself to the king, “will perform wonders on his majesty’s service, and the sum shall be ready in three days.”
+
+It was for Colbert now to turn pale. Louis looked at him astonished. Fouquet withdrew without any parade or weakness, smiling at his numerous friends, in whose countenances alone he read the sincerity of their friendship -- an interest partaking of compassion. Fouquet, however, should not be judged by his smile, for, in reality, he felt as if he had been stricken by death. Drops of blood beneath his coat stained the fine linen that clothed his chest. His dress concealed the blood, and his smile the rage which devoured him. His domestics perceived, by the manner in which he approached his carriage, that their master was not in the best of humors: the result of their discernment was, that his orders were executed with that exactitude of maneuver which is found on board a man-of-war, commanded during a storm by an ill-tempered captain. The carriage, therefore, did not simply roll along -- it flew. Fouquet had hardly time to recover himself during the drive; on his arrival he went at once to Aramis, who had not yet retired for the night. As for Porthos, he had supped very agreeably off a roast leg of mutton, two pheasants, and a perfect heap of cray-fish; he then directed his body to be anointed with perfumed oils, in the manner of the wrestlers of old; and when this anointment was completed, he had himself wrapped in flannels and placed in a warm bed. Aramis, as we have already said, had not retired. Seated at his ease in a velvet dressing-gown, he wrote letter after letter in that fine and hurried handwriting, a page of which contained a quarter of a volume. The door was thrown hurriedly open, and the superintendent appeared, pale, agitated, anxious. Aramis looked up: “Good-evening,” said he; and his searching look detected his host’s sadness and disordered state of mind. “Was your play as good as his majesty’s?” asked Aramis, by way of beginning the conversation.
+
+Fouquet threw himself upon a couch, and then pointed to the door to the servant who had followed him; when the servant had left he said, “Excellent.”
+
+Aramis, who had followed every movement with his eyes, noticed that he stretched himself upon the cushions with a sort of feverish impatience. “You have lost as usual?” inquired Aramis, his pen still in his hand.
+
+“Even more than usual,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“You know how to support losses?”
+
+“Sometimes.”
+
+“What, Monsieur Fouquet a bad player!”
+
+“There is play and play, Monsieur d’Herblay.”
+
+“How much have you lost?” inquired Aramis, with a slight uneasiness.
+
+Fouquet collected himself a moment, and then, without the slightest emotion, said, “The evening has cost me four millions,” and a bitter laugh drowned the last vibration of these words.
+
+Aramis, who did not expect such an amount, dropped his pen. “Four millions,” he said; “you have lost four millions, -- impossible!”
+
+“Monsieur Colbert held my cards for me,” replied the superintendent, with a similar bitter laugh.
+
+“Ah, now I understand; so, so, a new application for funds?”
+
+“Yes, and from the king’s own lips. It was impossible to ruin a man with a more charming smile. What do you think of it?”
+
+“It is clear that your destruction is the object in view.”
+
+“That is your opinion?”
+
+“Still. Besides, there is nothing in it which should astonish you, for we have foreseen it all along.”
+
+“Yes; but I did not expect four millions.”
+
+“No doubt the amount is serious, but, after all, four millions are not quite the death of a man, especially when the man in question is Monsieur Fouquet.”
+
+“My dear D’Herblay, if you knew the contents of my coffers, you would be less easy.”
+
+“And you promised?”
+
+“What could I do?”
+
+“That’s true.”
+
+“The very day I refuse, Colbert will procure the money; whence I know not, but he will procure it: and I shall be lost.”
+
+“There is no doubt of that. In how many days did you promise the four millions?”
+
+“In three days. The king seemed exceedingly pressed.”
+
+“In three days?”
+
+“When I think,” resumed Fouquet, “that just now as I passed along the streets, the people cried out, ‘There is the rich Monsieur Fouquet,’ it is enough to turn my brain.”
+
+“Stay, monsieur, the matter is not worth so much trouble,” said Aramis, calmly, sprinkling some sand over the letter he had just written.
+
+“Suggest a remedy, then, for this evil without a remedy.”
+
+“There is only one remedy for you, -- pay.”
+
+“But it is very uncertain whether I have the money. Everything must be exhausted; Belle-Isle is paid for; the pension has been paid; and money, since the investigation of the accounts of those who farm the revenue, is scarce. Besides, admitting that I pay this time, how can I do so on another occasion? When kings have tasted money, they are like tigers who have tasted flesh, they devour everything. The day will arrive -- must arrive -- when I shall have to say, ‘Impossible, sire,’ and on that very day I am a lost man.”
+
+Aramis raised his shoulders slightly, saying:
+
+“A man in your position, my lord, is only lost when he wishes to be so.”
+
+“A man, whatever his position may be, cannot hope to struggle against a king.”
+
+“Nonsense; when I was young I wrestled successfully with the Cardinal Richelieu, who was king of France, -- nay more -- cardinal.”
+
+“Where are my armies, my troops, my treasures? I have not even Belle-Isle.”
+
+“Bah! necessity is the mother of invention, and when you think all is lost, something will be discovered which will retrieve everything.”
+
+“Who will discover this wonderful something?”
+
+“Yourself.”
+
+“I! I resign my office of inventor.”
+
+“Then I will.”
+
+“Be it so. But set to work without delay.”
+
+“Oh! we have time enough!”
+
+“You kill me, D’Herblay, with your calmness,” said the superintendent, passing his handkerchief over his face.
+
+“Do you not remember that I one day told you not to make yourself uneasy, if you possessed courage? Have you any?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“Then don’t make yourself uneasy.”
+
+“It is decided then, that, at the last moment, you will come to my assistance.”
+
+“It will only be the repayment of a debt I owe you.”
+
+“It is the vocation of financiers to anticipate the wants of men such as yourself, D’Herblay.”
+
+“If obligingness is the vocation of financiers, charity is the virtue of the clergy. Only, on this occasion, do you act, monsieur. You are not yet sufficiently reduced, and at the last moment we will see what is to be done.”
+
+“We shall see, then, in a very short time.”
+
+“Very well. However, permit me to tell you that, personally, I regret exceedingly that you are at present so short of money, because I myself was about to ask you for some.”
+
+“For yourself?”
+
+“For myself, or some of my people, for mine or for ours.”
+
+“How much do you want?”
+
+“Be easy on that score; a roundish sum, it is true, but not too exorbitant.”
+
+“Tell me the amount.”
+
+“Fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“Oh! a mere nothing. Of course one has always fifty thousand francs. Why the deuce cannot that knave Colbert be as easily satisfied as you are -- and I should give myself far less trouble than I do. When do you need this sum?”
+
+“To-morrow morning; but you wish to know its destination?”
+
+“Nay, nay, chevalier, I need no explanation.”
+
+“To-morrow is the first of June.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“One of our bonds becomes due.”
+
+“I did not know we had any bonds.”
+
+“Certainly, to-morrow we pay our last third instalment.”
+
+“What third?”
+
+“Of the one hundred and fifty thousand francs to Baisemeaux.”
+
+“Baisemeaux? Who is he?”
+
+“The governor of the Bastile.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. On what grounds am I to pay one hundred and fifty thousand francs for that man.”
+
+“On account of the appointment which he, or rather we, purchased from Louviere and Tremblay.”
+
+“I have a very vague recollection of the matter.”
+
+“That is likely enough, for you have so many affairs to attend to. However, I do not believe you have any affair in the world of greater importance than this one.”
+
+“Tell me, then, why we purchased this appointment.”
+
+“Why, in order to render him a service in the first place, and afterwards ourselves.”
+
+“Ourselves? You are joking.”
+
+“Monseigneur, the time may come when the governor of the Bastile may prove a very excellent acquaintance.”
+
+“I have not the good fortune to understand you, D’Herblay.”
+
+“Monseigneur, we had our own poets, our own engineer, our own architect, our own musicians, our own printer, and our own painters; we needed our own governor of the Bastile.”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“Let us not deceive ourselves, monseigneur; we are very much opposed to paying the Bastile a visit,” added the prelate, displaying, beneath his pale lips, teeth which were still the same beautiful teeth so much admired thirty years previously by Marie Michon.
+
+“And you think it is not too much to pay one hundred and fifty thousand francs for that? I thought you generally put out money at better interest than that.”
+
+“The day will come when you will admit your mistake.”
+
+“My dear D’Herblay, the very day on which a man enters the Bastile, he is no longer protected by his past.”
+
+“Yes, he is, if the bonds are perfectly regular; besides, that good fellow Baisemeaux has not a courtier’s heart. I am certain, my lord, that he will not remain ungrateful for that money, without taking into account, I repeat, that I retain the acknowledgements.”
+
+“It is a strange affair! usury in a matter of benevolence.”
+
+“Do not mix yourself up with it, monseigneur; if there be usury, it is I who practice it, and both of us reap the advantage from it -- that is all.”
+
+“Some intrigue, D’Herblay?”
+
+“I do not deny it.”
+
+“And Baisemeaux an accomplice in it?”
+
+“Why not? -- there are worse accomplices than he. May I depend, then, upon the five thousand pistoles to-morrow?”
+
+“Do you want them this evening?”
+
+“It would be better, for I wish to start early; poor Baisemeaux will not be able to imagine what has be become of me, and must be upon thorns.”
+
+“You shall have the amount in an hour. Ah, D’Herblay, the interest of your one hundred and fifty thousand francs will never pay my four millions for me.”
+
+“Why not, monseigneur?”
+
+“Good-night, I have business to transact with my clerks before I retire.”
+
+“A good night’s rest, monseigneur.”
+
+“D’Herblay, you wish things that are impossible.”
+
+“Shall I have my fifty thousand francs this evening?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Go to sleep, then, in perfect safety -- it is I who tell you to do so.”
+
+Notwithstanding this assurance, and the tone in which it was given, Fouquet left the room shaking his head, and heaving a sigh.
+
+Chapter XXIII. M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun’s Accounts.
+
+The clock of St. Paul was striking seven as Aramis, on horseback, dressed as a simple citizen, that is to say, in colored suit, with no distinctive mark about him, except a kind of hunting-knife by his side, passed before the Rue du Petit-Musc, and stopped opposite the Rue des Tournelles, at the gate of the Bastile. Two sentinels were on duty at the gate; they made no difficulty about admitting Aramis, who entered without dismounting, and they pointed out the way he was to go by a long passage with buildings on both sides. This passage led to the drawbridge, or, in other words, to the real entrance. The drawbridge was down, and the duty of the day was about being entered upon. The sentinel at the outer guardhouse stopped Aramis’s further progress, asking him, in a rough tone of voice, what had brought him there. Aramis explained, with his usual politeness, that a wish to speak to M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun had occasioned his visit. The first sentinel then summoned a second sentinel, stationed within an inner lodge, who showed his face at the grating, and inspected the new arrival most attentively. Aramis reiterated the expression of his wish to see the governor; whereupon the sentinel called to an officer of lower grade, who was walking about in a tolerably spacious courtyard and who, in turn, on being informed of his object, ran to seek one of the officers of the governor’s staff. The latter, after having listened to Aramis’s request, begged him to wait a moment, then went away a short distance, but returned to ask his name. “I cannot tell it you, monsieur,” said Aramis; “I need only mention that I have matters of such importance to communicate to the governor, that I can only rely beforehand upon one thing, that M. de Baisemeaux will be delighted to see me; nay, more than that, when you have told him that it is the person whom he expected on the first of June, I am convinced he will hasten here himself.” The officer could not possibly believe that a man of the governor’s importance should put himself out for a person of so little importance as the citizen-looking visitor on horseback. “It happens most fortunately, monsieur,” he said, “that the governor is just going out, and you can perceive his carriage with the horses already harnessed, in the courtyard yonder; there will be no occasion for him to come to meet you, as he will see you as he passes by.” Aramis bowed to signify his assent; he did not wish to inspire others with too exalted an opinion of himself, and therefore waited patiently and in silence, leaning upon the saddle-bow of his horse. Ten minutes had hardly elapsed when the governor’s carriage was observed to move. The governor appeared at the door, and got into the carriage, which immediately prepared to start. The same ceremony was observed for the governor himself as with a suspected stranger; the sentinel at the lodge advanced as the carriage was about to pass under the arch, and the governor opened the carriage-door, himself setting the example of obedience to orders; so that, in this way, the sentinel could convince himself that no one quitted the Bastile improperly. The carriage rolled along under the archway, but at the moment the iron-gate was opened, the officer approached the carriage, which had again been stopped, and said something to the governor, who immediately put his head out of the door-way, and perceived Aramis on horseback at the end of the drawbridge. He immediately uttered almost a shout of delight, and got out, or rather darted out of his carriage, running towards Aramis, whose hands he seized, making a thousand apologies. He almost embraced him. “What a difficult matter to enter the Bastile!” said Aramis. “Is it the same for those who are sent here against their wills, as for those who come of their own accord?”
+
+“A thousand pardons, my lord. How delighted I am to see your Grace!”
+
+“Hush! What are you thinking of, my dear M. Baisemeaux? What do you suppose would be thought of a bishop in my present costume?”
+
+“Pray, excuse me, I had forgotten. Take this gentleman’s horse to the stables,” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“No, no,” said Aramis; “I have five thousand pistoles in the saddle-bags.”
+
+The governor’s countenance became so radiant, that if the prisoners had seen him they would have imagined some prince of the royal blood had arrived. “Yes, you are right, the horse shall be taken to the government house. Will you get into the carriage, my dear M. d’Herblay? and it shall take us back to my house.”
+
+“Get into a carriage to cross a courtyard! do you believe I am so great an invalid? No, no, we will go on foot.”
+
+Baisemeaux then offered his arm as a support, but the prelate did not accept it. They arrived in this manner at the government house, Baisemeaux rubbing his hands and glancing at the horse from time to time, while Aramis was looking at the bleak bare walls. A tolerably handsome vestibule and a staircase of white stone led to the governor’s apartments, who crossed the ante-chamber, the dining-room, where breakfast was being prepared, opened a small side door, and closeted himself with his guest in a large cabinet, the windows of which opened obliquely upon the courtyard and the stables. Baisemeaux installed the prelate with that all-inclusive politeness of which a good man, or a grateful man, alone possesses the secret. An arm-chair, a footstool, a small table beside him, on which to rest his hand, everything was prepared by the governor himself. With his own hands, too, he placed upon the table, with much solicitude, the bag containing the gold, which one of the soldiers had brought up with the most respectful devotion; and the soldier having left the room, Baisemeaux himself closed the door after him, drew aside one of the window-curtains, and looked steadfastly at Aramis to see if the prelate required anything further.
+
+“Well, my lord,” he said, still standing up, “of all men of their word, you still continue to be the most punctual.”
+
+“In matters of business, dear M. de Baisemeaux, exactitude is not a virtue only, it is a duty as well.”
+
+“Yes, in matters of business, certainly; but what you have with me is not of that character; it is a service you are rendering me.”
+
+“Come, confess, dear M. de Baisemeaux, that, notwithstanding this exactitude, you have not been without a little uneasiness.”
+
+“About your health, I certainly have,” stammered out Baisemeaux.
+
+“I wished to come here yesterday, but I was not able, as I was too fatigued,” continued Aramis. Baisemeaux anxiously slipped another cushion behind his guest’s back. “But,” continued Aramis, “I promised myself to come and pay you a visit to-day, early in the morning.”
+
+“You are really very kind, my lord.”
+
+“And it was a good thing for me I was punctual, I think.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Yes, you were going out.” At which latter remark Baisemeaux colored and said, “It is true I was going out.”
+
+“Then I prevent you,” said Aramis; whereupon the embarrassment of Baisemeaux became visibly greater. “I am putting you to inconvenience,” he continued, fixing a keen glace upon the poor governor; “if I had known that, I should not have come.”
+
+“How can your lordship imagine that you could ever inconvenience me?”
+
+“Confess you were going in search of money.”
+
+“No,” stammered out Baisemeaux, “no! I assure you I was going to -- ”
+
+“Does the governor still intend to go to M. Fouquet?” suddenly called out the major from below. Baisemeaux ran to the window like a madman. “No, no,” he exclaimed in a state of desperation, “who the deuce is speaking of M. Fouquet? are you drunk below there? why am I interrupted when I am engaged on business?”
+
+“You were going to M. Fouquet’s,” said Aramis, biting his lips, “to M. Fouquet, the abbe, or the superintendent?”
+
+Baisemeaux almost made up his mind to tell an untruth, but he could not summon courage to do so. “To the superintendent,” he said.
+
+“It is true, then, that you were in want of money, since you were going to a person who gives it away!”
+
+“I assure you, my lord -- ”
+
+“You were afraid?”
+
+“My dear lord, it was the uncertainty and ignorance in which I was as to where you were to be found.”
+
+“You would have found the money you require at M. Fouquet’s, for he is a man whose hand is always open.”
+
+“I swear that I should never have ventured to ask M. Fouquet for money. I only wished to ask him for your address.”
+
+“To ask M. Fouquet for my address?” exclaimed Aramis, opening his eyes in real astonishment.
+
+“Yes,” said Baisemeaux, greatly disturbed by the glance which the prelate fixed upon him, -- “at M. Fouquet’s certainly.”
+
+“There is no harm in that, dear M. Baisemeaux, only I would ask, why ask my address of M. Fouquet?”
+
+“That I might write to you.”
+
+“I understand,” said Aramis smiling, “but that is not what I meant; I do not ask you what you required my address for: I only ask why you should go to M. Fouquet for it?”
+
+“Oh!” said Baisemeaux, “as Belle-Isle is the property of M. Fouquet, and as Belle-Isle is in the diocese of Vannes, and as you are bishop of Vannes -- ”
+
+“But, my dear Baisemeaux, since you knew I was bishop of Vannes, you had no occasion to ask M. Fouquet for my address.”
+
+“Well, monsieur,” said Baisemeaux, completely at bay, “if I have acted indiscreetly, I beg your pardon most sincerely.”
+
+“Nonsense,” observed Aramis calmly: “how can you possibly have acted indiscreetly?” And while he composed his face, and continued to smile cheerfully on the governor, he was considering how Baisemeaux, who was not aware of his address, knew, however, that Vannes was his residence. “I shall clear all this up,” he said to himself; and then speaking aloud, added, -- “Well, my dear governor shall we now arrange our little accounts?”
+
+“I am at your orders, my lord; but tell me beforehand, my lord, whether you will do me the honor to breakfast with me as usual?”
+
+“Very willingly, indeed.”
+
+“That’s well,” said Baisemeaux, as he struck the bell before him three times.
+
+“What does that mean?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“That I have some one to breakfast with me, and that preparations are to be made accordingly.”
+
+“And you rang thrice. Really, my dear governor, I begin to think you are acting ceremoniously with me.”
+
+“No, indeed. Besides, the least I can do is to receive you in the best way I can.”
+
+“But why so?”
+
+“Because not even a prince could have done what you have done for me.”
+
+“Nonsense! nonsense!”
+
+“Nay, I assure you -- ”
+
+“Let us speak of other matters,” said Aramis. “Or rather, tell me how your affairs here are getting on.”
+
+“Not over well.”
+
+“The deuce!”
+
+“M. de Mazarin was not hard enough.”
+
+“Yes, I see; you require a government full of suspicion -- like that of the old cardinal, for instance.”
+
+“Yes; matters went on better under him. The brother of his ‘gray eminence’ made his fortune here.”
+
+“Believe me, my dear governor,” said Aramis, drawing closer to Baisemeaux, “a young king is well worth an old cardinal. Youth has its suspicions, its fits of anger, its prejudices, as old age has its hatreds, its precautions, and its fears. Have you paid your three years’ profits to Louvidre and Tremblay?”
+
+“Most certainly I have.”
+
+“So that you have nothing more to give them than the fifty thousand francs I have brought with me?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Have you not saved anything, then?”
+
+“My lord, in giving the fifty thousand francs of my own to these gentlemen, I assure you that I gave them everything I gain. I told M. d’Artagnan so yesterday evening.”
+
+“Ah!” said Aramis, whose eyes sparkled for a moment, but became immediately afterwards as unmoved as before; “so you have been to see my old friend D’Artagnan; how was he?”
+
+“Wonderfully well.”
+
+“And what did you say to him, M. de Baisemeaux?”
+
+“I told him,” continued the governor, not perceiving his own thoughtlessness; “I told him that I fed my prisoners too well.”
+
+“How many have you?” inquired Aramis, in an indifferent tone of voice.
+
+“Sixty.”
+
+“Well, that is a tolerably round number.”
+
+“In former times, my lord, there were, during certain years, as many as two hundred.”
+
+“Still a minimum of sixty is not to be grumbled at.”
+
+“Perhaps not; for, to anybody but myself, each prisoner would bring in two hundred and fifty pistoles; for instance, for a prince of the blood I have fifty francs a day.”
+
+“Only you have no prince of the blood; at least, I suppose so,” said Aramis, with a slight tremor in his voice.
+
+“No, thank heaven! -- I mean, no, unfortunately.”
+
+“What do you mean by unfortunately?”
+
+“Because my appointment would be improved by it. So fifty francs per day for a prince of the blood, thirty-six for a marechal of France -- ”
+
+“But you have as many marechals of France, I suppose, as you have princes of the blood?”
+
+“Alas! no more. It is true lieutenant-generals and brigadiers pay twenty-six francs, and I have two of them. After that, come councilors of parliament, who bring me fifteen francs, and I have six of them.”
+
+“I did not know,” said Aramis, “that councilors were so productive.”
+
+“Yes; but from fifteen francs I sink at once to ten francs; namely, for an ordinary judge, and for an ecclesiastic.”
+
+“And you have seven, you say; an excellent affair.”
+
+“Nay, a bad one, and for this reason. How can I possibly treat these poor fellows, who are of some good, at all events, otherwise than as a councilor of parliament?”
+
+“Yes, you are right; I do not see five francs difference between them.”
+
+“You understand; if I have a fine fish, I pay four or five francs for it; if I get a fine fowl, it cost me a franc and a half. I fatten a good deal of poultry, but I have to buy grain, and you cannot imagine the army of rats that infest this place.”
+
+“Why not get half a dozen cats to deal with them?”
+
+“Cats, indeed; yes, they eat them, but I was obliged to give up the idea because of the way in which they treated my grain. I have been obliged to have some terrier dogs sent me from England to kill the rats. These dogs, unfortunately, have tremendous appetites; they eat as much as a prisoner of the fifth order, without taking into account the rabbits and fowls they kill.”
+
+Was Aramis really listening or not? No one could have told; his downcast eyes showed the attentive man, but the restless hand betrayed the man absorbed in thought -- Aramis was meditating.
+
+“I was saying,” continued Baisemeaux, “that a good-sized fowl costs me a franc and a half, and that a fine fish costs me four or five francs. Three meals are served at the Bastile, and, as the prisoners, having nothing to do, are always eating, a ten-franc man costs me seven francs and a half.”
+
+“But did you not say that you treated those at ten francs like those at fifteen?”
+
+“Yes, certainly.”
+
+“Very well! Then you gain seven francs and a half upon those who pay you fifteen francs.”
+
+“I must compensate myself somehow,” said Baisemeaux, who saw how he had been snapped up.
+
+“You are quite right, my dear governor; but have you no prisoners below ten francs?”
+
+“Oh, yes! we have citizens and barristers at five francs.”
+
+“And do they eat, too?”
+
+“Not a doubt about it; only you understand that they do not get fish or poultry, nor rich wines at every meal; but at all events thrice a week they have a good dish at their dinner.”
+
+“Really, you are quite a philanthropist, my dear governor, and you will ruin yourself.”
+
+“No; understand me; when the fifteen-franc has not eaten his fowl, or the ten-franc has left his dish unfinished, I send it to the five-franc prisoner; it is a feast for the poor devil, and one must be charitable, you know.”
+
+“And what do you make out of your five-franc prisoners?”
+
+“A franc and a half.”
+
+“Baisemeaux, you’re an honest fellow; in honest truth I say so.”
+
+“Thank you, my lord. But I feel most for the small tradesmen and bailiffs’ clerks, who are rated at three francs. They do not often see Rhine carp or Channel sturgeon.”
+
+“But do not the five-franc gentlemen sometimes leave some scraps?”
+
+“Oh! my lord, do not believe I am so stingy as that; I delight the heart of some poor little tradesman or clerk by sending him a wing of a red partridge, a slice of venison, or a slice of a truffled pasty, dishes which he never tasted except in his dreams; these are the leavings of the twenty-four-franc prisoners; and as he eats and drinks, at dessert he cries ‘Long live the King,’ and blesses the Bastile; with a couple bottles of champagne, which cost me five sous, I make him tipsy every Sunday. That class of people call down blessings upon me, and are sorry to leave the prison. Do you know that I have remarked, and it does me infinite honor, that certain prisoners, who have been set at liberty, have, almost immediately afterwards, got imprisoned again? Why should this be the case, unless it be to enjoy the pleasures of my kitchen? It is really the fact.”
+
+Aramis smiled with an expression of incredulity.
+
+“You smile,” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“I do,” returned Aramis.
+
+“I tell you that we have names which have been inscribed on our books thrice in the space of two years.”
+
+“I must see it before I believe it,” said Aramis.
+
+“Well, I can show it to you, although it is prohibited to communicate the registers to strangers; and if you really wish to see it with your own eyes -- ”
+
+“I should be delighted, I confess.”
+
+“Very well,” said Baisemeaux, and he took out of a cupboard a large register. Aramis followed him most anxiously with his eyes, and Baisemeaux returned, placed the register upon the table, and turned over the leaves for a minute, and stayed at the letter M.
+
+“Look here,” said he, “Martinier, January, 1659; Martinier, June, 1660; Martinier, March, 1661. Mazarinades, etc.; you understand it was only a pretext; people were not sent to the Bastile for jokes against M. Mazarin; the fellow denounced himself in order to get imprisoned here.”
+
+“And what was his object?”
+
+“None other than to return to my kitchen at three francs a day.”
+
+“Three francs -- poor devil!”
+
+“The poet, my lord, belongs to the lowest scale, the same style of board as the small tradesman and bailiff’s clerk; but I repeat, it is to those people that I give these little surprises.”
+
+Aramis mechanically turned over the leaves of the register, continuing to read the names, but without appearing to take any interest in the names he read.
+
+“In 1661, you perceive,” said Baisemeaux, “eighty entries; and in 1659, eighty also.”
+
+“Ah!” said Aramis. “Seldon; I seem to know that name. Was it not you who spoke to me about a certain young man?”
+
+“Yes, a poor devil of a student, who made -- What do you call that where two Latin verses rhyme together?”
+
+“A distich.”
+
+“Yes; that is it.”
+
+“Poor fellow; for a distich.”
+
+“Do you know that he made this distich against the Jesuits?”
+
+“That makes no difference; the punishment seems very severe. Do not pity him; last year you seemed to interest yourself in him.”
+
+“Yes, I did so.”
+
+“Well, as your interest is all-powerful here, my lord, I have treated him since that time as a prisoner at fifteen francs.”
+
+“The same as this one, then,” said Aramis, who had continued turning over the leaves, and who had stopped at one of the names which followed Martinier.
+
+“Yes, the same as that one.”
+
+“Is that Marchiali an Italian?” said Aramis, pointing with his finger to the name which had attracted his attention.
+
+“Hush!” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“Why hush?” said Aramis, involuntarily clenching his white hand.
+
+“I thought I had already spoken to you about that Marchiali.”
+
+“No, it is the first time I ever heard his name pronounced.”
+
+“That may be, but perhaps I have spoken to you about him without naming him.”
+
+“Is he an old offender?” asked Aramis, attempting to smile.
+
+“On the contrary, he is quite young.”
+
+“Is his crime, then, very heinous?”
+
+“Unpardonable.”
+
+“Has he assassinated any one?”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“An incendiary, then?”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Has he slandered any one?”
+
+“No, no! It is he who -- ” and Baisemeaux approached Aramis’s ear, making a sort of ear-trumpet of his hands, and whispered: “It is he who presumes to resemble the -- ”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Aramis; “I now remember you already spoke about it last year to me; but the crime appeared to me so slight.”
+
+“Slight, do you say?”
+
+“Or rather, so involuntary.”
+
+“My lord, it is not involuntarily that such a resemblance is detected.”
+
+“Well, the fact is, I had forgotten it. But, my dear host,” said Aramis, closing the register, “if I am not mistaken, we are summoned.”
+
+Baisemeaux took the register, hastily restored it to its place in the closet, which he locked, and put the key in his pocket. “Will it be agreeable to your lordship to breakfast now?” said he; “for you are right in supposing that breakfast was announced.”
+
+“Assuredly, my dear governor,” and they passed into the dining-room.
+
+Chapter XXIV. The Breakfast at Monsieur de Baisemeaux’s.
+
+Aramis was generally temperate; but on this occasion, while taking every care of his constitution, he did ample justice to Baisemeaux’s breakfast, which, in all respects, was most excellent. The latter on his side, was animated with the wildest gayety; the sight of the five thousand pistoles, which he glanced at from time to time, seemed to open his heart. Every now and then he looked at Aramis with an expression of the deepest gratitude; while the latter, leaning back in his chair, took a few sips of wine from his glass, with the air of a connoisseur. “Let me never hear any ill words against the fare of the Bastile,” said he, half closing his eyes; “happy are the prisoners who can get only half a bottle of such Burgundy every day.”
+
+“All those at fifteen francs drink it,” said Baisemeaux. “It is very old Volnay.”
+
+“Does that poor student, Seldon, drink such good wine?”
+
+“Oh, no!”
+
+“I thought I heard you say he was boarded at fifteen francs.”
+
+“He! no, indeed; a man who makes districts -- distichs I mean -- at fifteen francs! No, no! it is his neighbor who is at fifteen francs.”
+
+“Which neighbor?”
+
+“The other, second Bertaudiere.”
+
+“Excuse me, my dear governor; but you speak a language which requires quite an apprenticeship to understand.”
+
+“Very true,” said the governor. “Allow me to explain: second Bertaudiere is the person who occupies the second floor of the tower of the Bertaudiere.”
+
+“So that Bertaudiere is the name of one of the towers of the Bastile? The fact is, I think I recollect hearing that each tower has a name of its own. Whereabouts is the one you are speaking of?”
+
+“Look,” said Baisemeaux, going to the window. “It is that tower to the left -- the second one.”
+
+“Is the prisoner at fifteen francs there?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Since when?”
+
+“Seven or eight years, nearly.”
+
+“What do you mean by nearly? Do you not know the dates more precisely?”
+
+“It was not in my time, M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“But I should have thought that Louviere or Tremblay would have told you.”
+
+“The secrets of the Bastile are never handed over with the keys of the governorship.”
+
+“Indeed! Then the cause of his imprisonment is a mystery -- a state secret.”
+
+“Oh, no! I do not suppose it is a state secret, but a secret -- like everything that happens at the Bastile.”
+
+“But,” said Aramis, “why do you speak more freely of Seldon than of second Bertaudiere?”
+
+“Because, in my opinion, the crime of the man who writes a distich is not so great as that of the man who resembles -- ”
+
+“Yes, yes; I understand you. Still, do not the turnkeys talk with your prisoners?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“The prisoners, I suppose, tell them they are not guilty?”
+
+“They are always telling them that; it is a matter of course; the same song over and over again.”
+
+“But does not the resemblance you were speaking about just now strike the turnkeys?”
+
+“My dear M. d’Herblay, it is only for men attached to the court, as you are, to take trouble about such matters.”
+
+“You’re right, you’re right, my dear M. Baisemeaux. Let me give you another taste of this Volnay.”
+
+“Not a taste merely, a full glass; fill yours too.”
+
+“Nay, nay! You are a musketeer still, to the very tips of your fingers, while I have become a bishop. A taste for me; a glass for yourself.”
+
+“As you please.” And Aramis and the governor nodded to each other, as they drank their wine. “But,” said Aramis, looking with fixed attention at the ruby-colored wine he had raised to the level of his eyes, as if he wished to enjoy it with all his senses at the same moment, “but what you might call a resemblance, another would not, perhaps, take any notice of.”
+
+“Most certainly he would, though, if it were any one who knew the person he resembles.”
+
+“I really think, dear M. Baisemeaux, that it can be nothing more than a resemblance of your own creation.”
+
+“Upon my honor, it is not so.”
+
+“Stay,” continued Aramis. “I have seen many persons very like the one we are speaking of; but, out of respect, no one ever said anything about it.”
+
+“Very likely; because there is resemblance and resemblance. This is a striking one, and, if you were to see him, you would admit it to be so.”
+
+“If I were to see him, indeed,” said Aramis, in an indifferent tone; “but in all probability I never shall.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because if I were even to put my foot inside one of those horrible dungeons, I should fancy I was buried there forever.”
+
+“No, no; the cells are very good places to live in.”
+
+“I really do not, and cannot believe it, and that is a fact.”
+
+“Pray do not speak ill of second Bertaudiere. It is really a good room, very nicely furnished and carpeted. The young fellow has by no means been unhappy there; the best lodging the Bastile affords has been his. There is a chance for you.”
+
+“Nay, nay,” said Aramis, coldly; “you will never make me believe there are any good rooms in the Bastile; and, as for your carpets, they exist only in your imagination. I should find nothing but spiders, rats, and perhaps toads, too.”
+
+“Toads?” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“Yes, in the dungeons.”
+
+“Ah! I don’t say there are not toads in the dungeons,” replied Baisemeaux. “But -- will you be convinced by your own eyes?” he continued, with a sudden impulse.
+
+“No, certainly not.”
+
+“Not even to satisfy yourself of the resemblance which you deny, as you do the carpets?”
+
+“Some spectral-looking person, a mere shadow; an unhappy, dying man.”
+
+“Nothing of the kind -- as brisk and vigorous a young fellow as ever lived.”
+
+“Melancholy and ill-tempered, then?”
+
+“Not at all; very gay and lively.”
+
+“Nonsense; you are joking.”
+
+“Will you follow me?” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“What for?”
+
+“To go the round of the Bastile.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“You will then see for yourself -- see with your own eyes.”
+
+“But the regulations?”
+
+“Never mind them. To-day my major has leave of absence; the lieutenant is visiting the post on the bastions; we are sole masters of the situation.”
+
+“No, no, my dear governor; why, the very idea of the sound of the bolts makes me shudder. You will only have to forget me in second or fourth Bertaudiere, and then -- ”
+
+“You are refusing an opportunity that may never present itself again. Do you know that, to obtain the favor I propose to you gratis, some of the princes of the blood have offered me as much as fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“Really! he must be worth seeing, then?”
+
+“Forbidden fruit, my lord; forbidden fruit. You who belong to the church ought to know that.”
+
+“Well, if had any curiosity, it would be to see the poor author of the distich.”
+
+“Very well, we will see him, too; but if I were at all curious, it would be about the beautiful carpeted room and its lodger.”
+
+“Furniture is very commonplace; and a face with no expression in it offers little or no interest.”
+
+“But a boarder at fifteen francs is always interesting.”
+
+“By the by, I forgot to ask you about that. Why fifteen francs for him, and only three francs for poor Seldon?”
+
+“The distinction made in that instance was a truly noble act, and one which displayed the king’s goodness of heart to great advantage.”
+
+“The king’s, you say.”
+
+“The cardinal’s, I mean. ‘This unhappy man,’ said M. Mazarin, ‘is destined to remain in prison forever.’”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Why, it seems that his crime is a lasting one; and, consequently, his punishment ought to be so, too.”
+
+“Lasting?”
+
+“No doubt of it, unless he is fortunate enough to catch the small-pox, and even that is difficult, for we never get any impure air here.”
+
+“Nothing can be more ingenious than your train of reasoning, my dear M. Baisemeaux. Do you, however, mean to say that this unfortunate man must suffer without interruption or termination?”
+
+“I did not say he was to suffer, my lord; a fifteen-franc boarder does not suffer.”
+
+“He suffers imprisonment, at all events.”
+
+“No doubt; there is no help for that, but this suffering is sweetened for him. You must admit that this young fellow was not born to eat all the good things he does eat; for instance, such things as we have on the table now; this pasty that has not been touched, these crawfish from the River Marne, of which we have hardly taken any, and which are almost as large as lobsters; all these things will at once be taken to second Bertaudiere, with a bottle of that Volnay which you think so excellent. After you have seen it you will believe it, I hope.”
+
+“Yes, my dear governor, certainly; but all this time you are thinking only of your very happy fifteen-franc prisoner, and you forget poor Seldon, my protege.”
+
+“Well, out of consideration for you, it shall be a gala day for him; he shall have some biscuits and preserves with this small bottle of port.”
+
+“You are a good-hearted fellow; I have said so already, and I repeat it, my dear Baisemeaux.”
+
+“Well, let us set off, then,” said the governor, a little bewildered, partly from the wine he had drunk, and partly from Aramis’s praises.
+
+“Do not forget that I only go to oblige you,” said the prelate.
+
+“Very well; but you will thank me when you get there.”
+
+“Let us go, then.”
+
+“Wait until I have summoned the jailer,” said Baisemeaux, as he struck the bell twice; at which summons a man appeared. “I am going to visit the towers,” said the governor. “No guards, no drums, no noise at all.”
+
+“If I were not to leave my cloak here,” said Aramis, pretending to be alarmed, “I should really think I was going to prison on my own account.”
+
+The jailer preceded the governor, Aramis walking on his right hand; some of the soldiers who happened to be in the courtyard drew themselves up in a line, as stiff as posts, as the governor passed along. Baisemeaux led the way down several steps which conducted to a sort of esplanade; thence they arrived at the drawbridge, where the sentinels on duty received the governor with the proper honors. The governor turned toward Aramis, and, speaking in such a tone that the sentinels could not lose a word, he observed, -- “I hope you have a good memory, monsieur?”
+
+“Why?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“On account of your plans and your measurements, for you know that no one is allowed, not architects even, to enter where the prisoners are, with paper, pens or pencil.”
+
+“Good,” said Aramis to himself, “it seems I am an architect, then. It sounds like one of D’Artagnan’s jokes, who perceived in me the engineer of Belle-Isle.” Then he added aloud: “Be easy on that score, monsieur; in our profession, a mere glance and a good memory are quite sufficient.”
+
+Baisemeaux did not change countenance, and the soldiers took Aramis for what he seemed to be. “Very well; we will first visit la Bertaudiere,” said Baisemeaux, still intending the sentinels to hear him. Then, turning to the jailer, he added: “You will take the opportunity of carrying to No. 2 the few dainties I pointed out.”
+
+“Dear M. de Baisemeaux,” said Aramis, “you are always forgetting No. 3.”
+
+“So I am,” said the governor; and upon that, they began to ascend. The number of bolts, gratings, and locks for this single courtyard would have sufficed for the safety of an entire city. Aramis was neither an imaginative nor a sensitive man; he had been somewhat of a poet in his youth, but his heart was hard and indifferent, as the heart of every man of fifty-five years of age is, who has been frequently and passionately attached to women in his lifetime, or rather who has been passionately loved by them. But when he placed his foot upon the worn stone steps, along which so many unhappy wretches had passed, when he felt himself impregnated, as it were, with the atmosphere of those gloomy dungeons, moistened with tears, there could be but little doubt he was overcome by his feelings, for his head was bowed and his eyes became dim, as he followed Baisemeaux without a syllable.
+
+Chapter XXV. The Second Floor of la Bertaudiere.
+
+On the second flight of stairs, whether from fatigue or emotion, the breathing of the visitor began to fail him, and he leaned against the wall. “Will you begin with this one?” said Baisemeaux; “for since we are going to both, it matters very little whether we ascend from the second to the third story, or descend from the third to the second.”
+
+“No, no,” exclaimed Aramis, eagerly, “higher, if you please; the one above is the more urgent.” They continued their ascent. “Ask the jailer for the keys,” whispered Aramis. Baisemeaux did so, took the keys, and, himself, opened the door of the third room. The jailer was the first to enter; he placed upon the table the provisions, which the kind-hearted governor called dainties, and then left the room. The prisoner had not stirred; Baisemeaux then entered, while Aramis remained at the threshold, from which place he saw a youth about eighteen years of age, who, raising his head at the unusual noise, jumped off the bed, as he perceived the governor, and clasping his hands together, began to cry out, “My mother, my mother,” in tones which betrayed such deep distress that Aramis, despite his command over himself, felt a shudder pass through his frame. “My dear boy,” said Baisemeaux, endeavoring to smile, “I have brought you a diversion and an extra, -- the one for the mind, the other for the body; this gentleman has come to take your measure, and here are some preserves for your dessert.”
+
+“Oh, monsieur!” exclaimed the young man, “keep me in solitude for a year, let me have nothing but bread and water for a year, but tell me that at the end of a year I shall leave this place, tell me that at the end of a year I shall see my mother again.”
+
+“But I have heard you say that your mother was very poor, and that you were very badly lodged when you were living with her, while here -- upon my word!”
+
+“If she were poor, monsieur, the greater reason to restore her only means of support to her. Badly lodged with her! Oh, monsieur, every one is always well lodged when he is free.”
+
+“At all events, since you yourself admit you have done nothing but write that unhappy distich -- ”
+
+“But without any intention, I swear. Let me be punished -- cut off the hand which wrote it, I will work with the other -- but restore my mother to me.”
+
+“My boy,” said Baisemeaux, “you know very well that it does not depend upon me; all I can do for you is to increase your rations, give you a glass of port wine now and then, slip in a biscuit for you between a couple of plates.”
+
+“Great heaven!” exclaimed the young man, falling backward and rolling on the ground.
+
+Aramis, unable to bear this scene any longer, withdrew as far as the landing. “Unhappy, wretched man,” he murmured.
+
+“Yes, monsieur, he is indeed very wretched,” said the jailer; “but it is his parents’ fault.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“No doubt. Why did they let him learn Latin? Too much knowledge, you see; it is that which does harm. Now I, for instance, can’t read or write, and therefore I am not in prison.” Aramis looked at the man, who seemed to think that being a jailer in the Bastile was not being in prison. As for Baisemeaux, noticing the little effect produced by his advice and his port wine, he left the dungeon quite upset. “You have forgotten to close the door,” said the jailer.
+
+“So I have,” said Baisemeaux; “there are the keys, do you do it.”
+
+“I will solicit the pardon of that poor boy,” said Aramis.
+
+“And if you do not succeed,” said Baisemeaux, “at least beg that he may be transferred to the ten-franc list, by which both he and I shall be gainers.”
+
+“If the other prisoner calls out for his mother in a similar manner,” said Aramis, “I prefer not to enter at all, but will take my measure from outside.”
+
+“No fear of that, monsieur architect, the one we are now going to see is as gentle as a lamb; before he could call after his mother he must open his lips, and he never says a word.”
+
+“Let us go in, then,” said Aramis, gloomily.
+
+“Are you the architect of the prisons, monsieur?” said the jailer.
+
+“I am.”
+
+“It is odd, then, that you are not more accustomed to all this.”
+
+Aramis perceived that, to avoid giving rise to any suspicions, he must summon all his strength of mind to his assistance. Baisemeaux, who carried the keys, opened the door. “Stay outside,” he said to the jailer, “and wait for us at the bottom of the steps.” The jailer obeyed and withdrew.
+
+Baisemeaux entered first, and opened the second door himself. By the light which filtered through the iron-barred window, could be seen a handsome young man, short in stature, with closely cut hair, and a beard beginning to grow; he was sitting on a stool, his elbow resting on an armchair, and with all the upper part of his body reclining against it. His dress, thrown upon the bed, was of rich black velvet, and he inhaled the fresh air which blew in upon his breast through a shirt of the very finest cambric. As the governor entered, the young man turned his head with a look full of indifference; and on recognizing Baisemeaux, he arose and saluted him courteously. But when his eyes fell upon Aramis, who remained in the background, the latter trembled, turned pale, and his hat, which he held in his hand, fell upon the ground, as if all his muscles had become relaxed at once. Baisemeaux, habituated to the presence of his prisoner, did not seem to share any of the sensations which Aramis experienced, but, with all the zeal of a good servant, he busied himself in arranging on the table the pasty and crawfish he had brought with him. Occupied in this manner, he did not remark how disturbed his guest had become. When he had finished, however, he turned to the young prisoner and said: “You are looking very well, -- are you so?”
+
+“Quite well, I thank you, monsieur,” replied the young man.
+
+The effect of the voice was such as almost to overpower Aramis, and notwithstanding his control over himself, he advanced a few steps towards him, with his eyes wide open and his lips trembling. The movement he made was so marked that Baisemeaux, notwithstanding his preoccupation, observed it. “This gentleman is an architect who has come to examine your chimney,” said Baisemeaux; “does it smoke?”
+
+“Never, monsieur.”
+
+“You were saying just now,” said the governor, rubbing his hands together, “that it was not possible for a man to be happy in prison; here, however, is one who is so. You have nothing to complain of, I hope?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Do you ever feel weary?” said Aramis.
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Ha, ha,” said Baisemeaux, in a low tone of voice; “was I right?”
+
+“Well, my dear governor, it is impossible not to yield to evidence. Is it allowed to put any question to him?”
+
+“As many as you like.”
+
+“Very well; be good enough to ask him if he knows why he is here.”
+
+“This gentleman requests me to ask you,” said Baisemeaux, “if you are aware of the cause of your imprisonment?”
+
+“No, monsieur,” said the young man, unaffectedly, “I am not.”
+
+“That is hardly possible,” said Aramis, carried away by his feelings in spite of himself; “if you were really ignorant of the cause of your detention, you would be furious.”
+
+“I was so during the early days of my imprisonment.”
+
+“Why are you not so now?”
+
+“Because I have reflected.”
+
+“That is strange,” said Aramis.
+
+“Is it not odd?” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“May one venture to ask you, monsieur, on what you have reflected?”
+
+“I felt that as I had committed no crime, Heaven could not punish me.”
+
+“What is a prison, then,” inquired Aramis, “if it be not a punishment.”
+
+“Alas! I cannot tell,” said the young man; “all that I can tell you now is the very opposite of what I felt seven years ago.”
+
+“To hear you converse, to witness your resignation, one might almost believe that you liked your imprisonment?”
+
+“I endure it.”
+
+“In the certainty of recovering your freedom some day, I suppose?”
+
+“I have no certainty; hope, I have, and that is all; and yet I acknowledge that this hope becomes less every day.”
+
+“Still, why should you not again be free, since you have already been so?”
+
+“That is precisely the reason,” replied the young man, “which prevents me from expecting liberty; why should I have been imprisoned at all if it had been intended to release me afterwards?”
+
+“How old are you?”
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+“What is your name?”
+
+“I have forgotten the name by which I was called.”
+
+“Who are your parents?”
+
+“I never knew them.”
+
+“But those who brought you up?”
+
+“They did not call me their son.”
+
+“Did you ever love any one before coming here?”
+
+“I loved my nurse, and my flowers.”
+
+“Was that all?”
+
+“I also loved my valet.”
+
+“Do you regret your nurse and your valet?”
+
+“I wept very much when they died.”
+
+“Did they die since you have been here, or before you came?”
+
+“They died the evening before I was carried off.”
+
+“Both at the same time?”
+
+“Yes, both at the same time.”
+
+“In what manner were you carried off?”
+
+“A man came for me, directed me to get into a carriage, which was closed and locked, and brought me here.”
+
+“Would you be able to recognize that man again?”
+
+“He was masked.”
+
+“Is this not an extraordinary tale?” said Baisemeaux, in a low tone of voice, to Aramis, who could hardly breathe.
+
+“It is indeed extraordinary,” he murmured.
+
+“But what is still more extraordinary is, that he has never told me so much as he has just told you.”
+
+“Perhaps the reason may be that you have never questioned him,” said Aramis.
+
+“It’s possible,” replied Baisemeaux; “I have no curiosity. Have you looked at the room? it’s a fine one, is it not?”
+
+“Very much so.”
+
+“A carpet -- ”
+
+“Beautiful.”
+
+“I’ll wager he had nothing like it before he came here.”
+
+“I think so, too.” And then again turning towards the young man, he said, “Do you not remember to have been visited at some time or another by a strange lady or gentleman?”
+
+“Yes, indeed; thrice by a woman, who each time came to the door in a carriage, and entered covered with a veil, which she raised when we were together and alone.”
+
+“Do you remember that woman?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What did she say to you?”
+
+The young man smiled mournfully, and then replied, “She inquired, as you have just done, if I were happy, and if I were getting weary.”
+
+“What did she do on arriving, and on leaving you?”
+
+“She pressed me in her arms, held me in her embrace, and kissed me.”
+
+“Do you remember her?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Do you recall her features distinctly?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You would recognize her, then, if accident brought her before you, or led you into her person?”
+
+“Most certainly.”
+
+A flush of fleeting satisfaction passed across Aramis’s face. At this moment Baisemeaux heard the jailer approaching. “Shall we leave?” he said, hastily, to Aramis.
+
+Aramis, who probably had learnt all that he cared to know, replied, “When you like.”
+
+The young man saw them prepare to leave, and saluted them politely. Baisemeaux replied merely by a nod of the head, while Aramis, with a respect, arising perhaps from the sight of such misfortune, saluted the prisoner profoundly. They left the room, Baisemeaux closing the door behind them.
+
+“Well,” said Baisemeaux, as they descended the staircase, “what do you think of it all?”
+
+“I have discovered the secret, my dear governor,” he said.
+
+“Bah! what is the secret, then?”
+
+“A murder was committed in that house.”
+
+“Nonsense.”
+
+“But attend; the valet and nurse died the same day.”
+
+“Well.”
+
+“And by poison. What do you think?”
+
+“That is very likely to be true.”
+
+“What! that that young man is an assassin?”
+
+“Who said that? What makes you think that poor young fellow could be an assassin?”
+
+“The very thing I was saying. A crime was committed in his house,” said Aramis, “and that was quite sufficient; perhaps he saw the criminals, and it was feared that he might say something.”
+
+“The deuce! if I only thought that -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“I would redouble the surveillance.”
+
+“Oh, he does not seem to wish to escape.”
+
+“You do not know what prisoners are.”
+
+“Has he any books?”
+
+“None; they are strictly prohibited, and under M. de Mazarin’s own hand.”
+
+“Have you the writing still?”
+
+“Yes, my lord; would you like to look at it as you return to take your cloak?”
+
+“I should, for I like to look at autographs.”
+
+“Well, then, this one is of the most unquestionable authenticity; there is only one erasure.”
+
+“Ah, ah! an erasure; and in what respect?”
+
+“With respect to a figure. At first there was written: ‘To be boarded at fifty francs.’”
+
+“As princes of the blood, in fact?”
+
+“But the cardinal must have seen his mistake, you understand; for he canceled the zero, and has added a one before the five. But, by the by -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“You do not speak of the resemblance.”
+
+“I do not speak of it, dear M. de Baisemeaux, for a very simple reason -- because it does not exist.”
+
+“The deuce it doesn’t.”
+
+“Or, if it does exist, it is only in your own imagination; but, supposing it were to exist elsewhere, I think it would be better for you not to speak of about it.”
+
+“Really.”
+
+“The king, Louis XIV. -- you understand -- would be excessively angry with you, if he were to learn that you contributed in any way to spread the report that one of his subjects has the effrontery to resemble him.”
+
+“It is true, quite true,” said Baisemeaux, thoroughly alarmed; “but I have not spoken of the circumstance to any one but yourself, and you understand, monseigneur, that I perfectly rely on your discretion.”
+
+“Oh, be easy.”
+
+“Do you still wish to see the note?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+While engaged in this manner in conversation, they had returned to the governor’s apartments; Baisemeaux took from the cupboard a private register, like the one he had already shown Aramis, but fastened by a lock, the key which opened it being one of a small bunch which Baisemeaux always carried with him. Then placing the book upon the table, he opened it at the letter “M,” and showed Aramis the following note in the column of observations: “No books at any time; all linen and clothes of the finest and best quality to be procured; no exercise; always the same jailer; no communications with any one. Musical instruments; every liberty and every indulgence which his welfare may require; to be boarded at fifteen francs. M. de Baisemeaux can claim more if the fifteen francs be not sufficient.”
+
+“Ah,” said Baisemeaux, “now I think of it, I shall claim it.”
+
+Aramis shut the book. “Yes,” he said, “it is indeed M. de Mazarin’s handwriting; I recognize it well. Now, my dear governor,” he continued, as if this last communication had exhausted his interest, “let us now turn over to our own little affairs.”
+
+“Well, what time for repayment do you wish me to take? Fix it yourself.”
+
+“There need not be any particular period fixed; give me a simple acknowledgement for one hundred and fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“When to be made payable?”
+
+“When I require it; but, you understand, I shall only wish it when you yourself do.”
+
+“Oh, I am quite easy on that score,” said Baisemeaux, smiling; “but I have already given you two receipts.”
+
+“Which I now destroy,” said Aramis; and after having shown the two receipts to Baisemeaux, he destroyed them. Overcome by so great a mark of confidence, Baisemeaux unhesitatingly wrote out an acknowledgement of a debt of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, payable at the pleasure of the prelate. Aramis, who had, by glancing over the governor’s shoulder, followed the pen as he wrote, put the acknowledgement into his pocket without seeming to have read it, which made Baisemeaux perfectly easy. “Now,” said Aramis, “you will not be angry with me if I were to carry off one of your prisoners?”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“By obtaining his pardon, of course. Have I not already told you that I took a great interest in poor Seldon?”
+
+“Yes, quite true, you did so.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“That is your affair; do as you think proper. I see you have an open hand, and an arm that can reach a great way.”
+
+“Adieu, adieu.” And Aramis left, carrying with him the governor’s best wishes.
+
+Chapter XXVI. The Two Friends.
+
+At the very time M. de Baisemeaux was showing Aramis the prisoners in the Bastile, a carriage drew up at Madame de Belliere’s door, and, at that still early hour, a young woman alighted, her head muffled in a silk hood. When the servants announced Madame Vanel to Madame de Belliere, the latter was engaged, or rather was absorbed, in reading a letter, which she hurriedly concealed. She had hardly finished her morning toilette, her maid being still in the next room. At the name -- at the footsteps of Marguerite Vanel, Madame de Belliere ran to meet her. She fancied she could detect in her friend’s eyes a brightness which was neither that of health nor of pleasure. Marguerite embraced her, pressed her hands, and hardly allowed her time to speak. “Dearest,” she said, “have you forgotten me? Have you quite given yourself up to the pleasures of the court?”
+
+“I have not even seen the marriage fetes.”
+
+“What are you doing with yourself, then?”
+
+“I am getting ready to leave for Belliere.”
+
+“For Belliere?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are becoming rustic in your tastes, then; I delight to see you so disposed. But you are pale.”
+
+“No, I am perfectly well.”
+
+“So much the better; I was becoming uneasy about you. You do not know what I have been told.”
+
+“People say so many things.”
+
+“Yes, but this is very singular.”
+
+“How well you know how to excite curiosity, Marguerite.”
+
+“Well, I was afraid of vexing you.”
+
+“Never; you have yourself always admired me for my evenness of temper.”
+
+“Well, then, it is said that -- no, I shall never be able to tell you.”
+
+“Do not let us talk about it, then,” said Madame de Belliere, who detected the ill-nature that was concealed by all these prefaces, yet felt the most anxious curiosity on the subject.
+
+“Well, then, my dear marquise, it is said, for some time past, you no longer continue to regret Monsieur de Belliere as you used to.”
+
+“It is an ill-natured report, Marguerite. I do regret, and shall always regret, my husband; but it is now two years since he died. I am only twenty-eight years old, and my grief at his loss ought not always to control every action and thought of my life. You, Marguerite, who are the model of a wife, would not believe me if I were to say so.”
+
+“Why not? Your heart is so soft and yielding,” she said, spitefully.
+
+“Yours is so, too, Marguerite, and yet I did not perceive that you allowed yourself to be overcome by grief when your heart was wounded.” These words were in direct allusion to Marguerite’s rupture with the superintendent, and were also a veiled but direct reproach made against her friend’s heart.
+
+As if she only awaited this signal to discharge her shaft, Marguerite exclaimed, “Well, Elise, it is said you are in love.” And she looked fixedly at Madame de Belliere, who blushed against her will.
+
+“Women can never escape slander,” replied the marquise, after a moment’s pause.
+
+“No one slanders you, Elise.”
+
+“What! -- people say that I am in love, and yet they do not slander me!”
+
+“In the first place, if it be true, it is no slander, but simply a scandal-loving report. In the next place -- for you did not allow me to finish what I was saying -- the public does not assert that you have abandoned yourself to this passion. It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuous but loving woman, defending yourself with claws and teeth, shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; in other respects, as impenetrable as that of Danae, notwithstanding Danae’s tower was made of brass.”
+
+“You are witty, Marguerite,” said Madame de Belliere, angrily.
+
+“You always flatter me, Elise. In short, however, you are reported to be incorruptible and unapproachable. You cannot decide whether the world is calumniating you or not; but what is it you are musing about while I am speaking to you?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes; you are blushing and do not answer me.”
+
+“I was trying,” said the marquise, raising her beautiful eyes brightened with an indication of growing temper, “I was trying to discover to what you could possibly have alluded, you who are so learned in mythological subjects, in comparing me to Danae.”
+
+“You were trying to guess that?” said Marguerite, laughing.
+
+“Yes; do you not remember that at the convent, when we were solving our problems in arithmetic -- ah! what I have to tell you is learned also, but it is my turn -- do you not remember, that if one of the terms were given, we were to find the other? Therefore do you guess now?”
+
+“I cannot conjecture what you mean.”
+
+“And yet nothing is more simple. You pretend that I am in love, do you not?”
+
+“So it is said.”
+
+“Very well; it is not said, I suppose, that I am in love with an abstraction. There must surely be a name mentioned in this report.”
+
+“Certainly, a name is mentioned.”
+
+“Very well; it is not surprising, then, that I should try to guess this name, since you do not tell it.”
+
+“My dear marquise, when I saw you blush, I did not think you would have to spend much time in conjectures.”
+
+“It was the word Danae which you used that surprised me. Danae means a shower of gold, does it not?”
+
+“That is to say that the Jupiter of Danae changed himself into a shower of gold for her.”
+
+“My lover, then, he whom you assign me -- ”
+
+“I beg your pardon; I am your friend, and assign you no one.”
+
+“That may be; but those who are ill disposed towards me.”
+
+“Do you wish to hear the name?”
+
+“I have been waiting this half hour for it.”
+
+“Well, then, you shall hear it. Do not be shocked; he is a man high in power.”
+
+“Good,” said the marquise, as she clenched her hands like a patient at the approach of the knife.
+
+“He is a very wealthy man,” continued Marguerite; “the wealthiest, it may be. In a word, it is -- ”
+
+The marquise closed her eyes for a moment.
+
+“It is the Duke of Buckingham,” said Marguerite, bursting into laughter. This perfidy had been calculated with extreme ability; the name that was pronounced, instead of the name which the marquise awaited, had precisely the same effect upon her as the badly sharpened axes, that had hacked, without destroying, Messieurs de Chalais and de Thou upon the scaffold. She recovered herself, however, and said, “I was perfectly right in saying you were a witty woman, for you are making the time pass away most agreeably. This joke is a most amusing one, for I have never seen the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Never?” said Marguerite, restraining her laughter.
+
+“I have never even left my own house since the duke has been at Paris.”
+
+“Oh!” resumed Madame Vanel, stretching out her foot towards a paper which was lying on the carpet near the window; “it is not necessary for people to see each other, since they can write.” The marquise trembled, for this paper was the envelope of the letter she was reading as her friend had entered, and was sealed with the superintendent’s arms. As she leaned back on the sofa on which she was sitting, Madame de Belliere covered the paper with the thick folds of her large silk dress, and so concealed it.
+
+“Come, Marguerite, tell me, is it to tell me all these foolish reports that you have come to see me so early in the day?”
+
+“No; I came to see you, in the first place, and to remind you of those habits of our earlier days, so delightful to remember, when we used to wander about together at Vincennes, and, sitting beneath an oak, or in some sylvan shade, used to talk of those we loved, and who loved us.”
+
+“Do you propose that we should go out together now?”
+
+“My carriage is here, and I have three hours at my disposal.”
+
+“I am not dressed yet, Marguerite; but if you wish that we should talk together, we can, without going to the woods of Vincennes, find in my own garden here, beautiful trees, shady groves, a green sward covered with daisies and violets, the perfume of which can be perceived from where we are sitting.”
+
+“I regret your refusal, my dear marquise, for I wanted to pour out my whole heart into yours.”
+
+“I repeat again, Marguerite, my heart is yours just as much in this room, or beneath the lime-trees in the garden here, as it would be under the oaks in the woods yonder.”
+
+“It is not the same thing for me. In approaching Vincennes, marquise, my ardent aspirations approach nearer to that object towards which they have for some days past been directed.” The marquise suddenly raised her head. “Are you surprised, then, that I am still thinking of Saint-Mande?”
+
+“Of Saint-Mande?” exclaimed Madame de Belliere; and the looks of both women met each other like two resistless swords.
+
+“You, so proud!” said the marquise, disdainfully.
+
+“I, so proud!” replied Madame Vanel. “Such is my nature. I do not forgive neglect -- I cannot endure infidelity. When I leave any one who weeps at my abandonment, I feel induced still to love him; but when others forsake me and laugh at their infidelity, I love distractedly.”
+
+Madame de Belliere could not restrain an involuntary movement.
+
+“She is jealous,” said Marguerite to herself.
+
+“Then,” continued the marquise, “you are quite enamored of the Duke of Buckingham -- I mean of M. Fouquet?” Elise felt the allusion, and her blood seemed to congeal in her heart. “And you wished to go to Vincennes, -- to Saint-Mande, even?”
+
+“I hardly know what I wished: you would have advised me perhaps.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“You have often done so.”
+
+“Most certainly I should not have done so in the present instance, for I do not forgive as you do. I am less loving, perhaps; when my heart has been once wounded, it remains so always.”
+
+“But M. Fouquet has not wounded you,” said Marguerite Vanel, with the most perfect simplicity.
+
+“You perfectly understand what I mean. M. Fouquet has not wounded me; I do not know of either obligation or injury received at his hands, but you have reason to complain of him. You are my friend, and I am afraid I should not advise you as you would like.”
+
+“Ah! you are prejudging the case.”
+
+“The sighs you spoke of just now are more than indications.”
+
+“You overwhelm me,” said the young woman suddenly, as if collecting her whole strength, like a wrestler preparing for a last struggle; “you take only my evil dispositions and my weaknesses into calculation, and do not speak of my pure and generous feelings. If, at this moment, I feel instinctively attracted towards the superintendent, if I even make an advance to him, which, I confess, is very probable, my motive for it is, that M. Fouquet’s fate deeply affects me, and because he is, in my opinion, one of the most unfortunate men living.”
+
+“Ah!” said the marquise, placing her hand upon her heart, “something new, then, has occurred?”
+
+“Do you not know it?”
+
+“I am utterly ignorant of everything about him,” said Madame de Belliere, with the poignant anguish that suspends thought and speech, and even life itself.
+
+“In the first place, then, the king’s favor is entirely withdrawn from M. Fouquet, and conferred on M. Colbert.”
+
+“So it is stated.”
+
+“It is very clear, since the discovery of the plot of Belle-Isle.”
+
+“I was told that the discovery of the fortifications there had turned out to M. Fouquet’s honor.”
+
+Marguerite began to laugh in so cruel a manner that Madame de Belliere could at that moment have delightedly plunged a dagger in her bosom. “Dearest,” continued Marguerite, “there is no longer any question of M. Fouquet’s honor; his safety is concerned. Before three days are passed the ruin of the superintendent will be complete.”
+
+“Stay,” said the marquise, in her turn smiling, “that is going a little fast.”
+
+“I said three days, because I wish to deceive myself with a hope; but probably the catastrophe will be complete within twenty-four hours.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“For the simplest of all reasons, -- that M. Fouquet has no more money.”
+
+“In matters of finance, my dear Marguerite, some are without money to-day, who to-morrow can procure millions.”
+
+“That might be M. Fouquet’s case when he had two wealthy and clever friends who amassed money for him, and wrung it from every possible or impossible source; but those friends are dead.”
+
+“Money does not die, Marguerite; it may be concealed, but it can be looked for, bought and found.”
+
+“You see things on the bright side, and so much the better for you. It is really very unfortunate that you are not the Egeria of M. Fouquet; you might now show him the source whence he could obtain the millions which the king asked him for yesterday.”
+
+“Millions!” said the marquise, in terror.
+
+“Four -- an even number.”
+
+“Infamous!” murmured Madame de Belliere, tortured by her friend’s merciless delight.
+
+“M. Fouquet, I should think, must certainly have four millions,” she replied, courageously.
+
+“If he has those which the king requires to-day,” said Marguerite, “he will not, perhaps, possess those which the king will demand in a month or so.”
+
+“The king will exact money from him again, then?”
+
+“No doubt; and that is my reason for saying that the ruin of poor M. Fouquet is inevitable. Pride will induce him to furnish the money, and when he has no more, he will fall.”
+
+“It is true,” said the marquise, trembling; “the plan is a bold one; but tell me, does M. Colbert hate M. Fouquet so very much?”
+
+“I think he does not like him. M. Colbert is powerful; he improves on close acquaintance; he has gigantic ideas, a strong will, and discretion; he will rise.”
+
+“He will be superintendent?”
+
+“It is probable. Such is the reason, my dear marquise, why I felt myself impressed in favor of that poor man, who once loved, and even adored me; and why, when I see him so unfortunate, I forgive his infidelity, which I have reason to believe he also regrets; and why, moreover, I should not have been disinclined to afford him some consolation, or some good advice; he would have understood the step I had taken, and would have thought kindly of me for it. It is gratifying to be loved, you know. Men value love more highly when they are no longer blinded by its influence.”
+
+The marquise, bewildered and overcome by these cruel attacks, which had been calculated with the greatest nicety and precision, hardly knew what to answer in return; she even seemed to have lost all power of thought. Her perfidious friend’s voice had assumed the most affectionate tone; she spoke as a woman, but concealed the instincts of a wolf.
+
+“Well,” said Madame de Belliere, who had a vague hope that Marguerite would cease to overwhelm a vanquished enemy, “why do you not go and see M. Fouquet?”
+
+“Decidedly, marquise, you have made me reflect. No, it would be unbecoming for me to make the first advance. M. Fouquet no doubt loves me, but he is too proud. I cannot expose myself to an affront.... besides, I have my husband to consider. You tell me nothing? Very well, I shall consult M. Colbert on the subject.” Marguerite rose smilingly, as though to take leave, but the marquise had not the strength to imitate her. Marguerite advanced a few paces, in order that she might continue to enjoy the humiliating grief in which her rival was plunged, and then said, suddenly, -- “You do not accompany me to the door, then?” The marquise rose, pale and almost lifeless, without thinking of the envelope, which had occupied her attention so greatly at the commencement of the conversation, and which was revealed at the first step she took. She then opened the door of her oratory, and without even turning her head towards Marguerite Vanel, entered it, closing the door after her. Marguerite said, or rather muttered a few words, which Madame de Belliere did not even hear. As soon, however, as the marquise had disappeared, her envious enemy, not being able to resist the desire to satisfy herself that her suspicions were well founded, advanced stealthily like a panther, and seized the envelope. “Ah!” she said, gnashing her teeth, “it was indeed a letter from M. Fouquet she was reading when I arrived,” and then darted out of the room. During this interval, the marquise, having arrived behind the rampart, as it were, of her door, felt that her strength was failing her; for a moment she remained rigid, pale and motionless as a statue, and then, like a statue shaken on its base by an earthquake, tottered and fell inanimate on the carpet. The noise of the fall resounded at the same moment as the rolling of Marguerite’s carriage leaving the hotel.
+
+Chapter XXVII. Madame de Belliere’s Plate.
+
+The blow had been the more painful on account of its being unexpected. It was some time before the marquise recovered herself; but once recovered, she began to reflect upon the events so heartlessly announced to her. She therefore returned, at the risk even of losing her life in the way, to that train of ideas which her relentless friend had forced her to pursue. Treason, then -- deep menaces, concealed under the semblance of public interest -- such were Colbert’s maneuvers. A detestable delight at an approaching downfall, untiring efforts to attain this object, means of seduction no less wicked than the crime itself -- such were the weapons Marguerite employed. The crooked atoms of Descartes triumphed; to the man without compassion was united a woman without heart. The marquise perceived, with sorrow rather than indignation, that the king was an accomplice in the plot which betrayed the duplicity of Louis XIII. in his advanced age, and the avarice of Mazarin at a period of life when he had not had the opportunity of gorging himself with French gold. The spirit of this courageous woman soon resumed its energy, no longer overwhelmed by indulgence in compassionate lamentations. The marquise was not one to weep when action was necessary, nor to waste time in bewailing a misfortune as long as means still existed of relieving it. For some minutes she buried her face in her cold fingers, and then, raising her head, rang for her attendants with a steady hand, and with a gesture betraying a fixed determination of purpose. Her resolution was taken.
+
+“Is everything prepared for my departure?” she inquired of one of her female attendants who entered.
+
+“Yes, madame; but it was not expected that your ladyship would leave for Belliere for the next few days.”
+
+“All my jewels and articles of value, then, are packed up?”
+
+“Yes, madame; but hitherto we have been in the habit of leaving them in Paris. Your ladyship does not generally take your jewels with you into the country.”
+
+“But they are all in order, you say?”
+
+“Yes, in your ladyship’s own room.”
+
+“The gold plate?”
+
+“In the chest.”
+
+“And the silver plate?”
+
+“In the great oak closet.”
+
+The marquise remained silent for a few moments, and then said calmly, “Let my goldsmith be sent for.”
+
+Her attendants quitted the room to execute the order. The marquise, however, had entered her own room, and was inspecting her casket of jewels with the greatest attention. Never, until now, had she bestowed such close attention upon riches in which women take so much pride; never, until now, had she looked at her jewels, except for the purpose of making a selection according to their settings or their colors. On this occasion, however, she admired the size of the rubies and the brilliancy of the diamonds; she grieved over every blemish and every defect; she thought the gold light, and the stones wretched. The goldsmith, as he entered, found her thus occupied. “M. Faucheux,” she said, “I believe you supplied me with my gold service?”
+
+“I did, your ladyship.”
+
+“I do not now remember the amount of the account.”
+
+“Of the new service, madame, or of that which M. de Belliere presented to you on your marriage? for I have furnished both.”
+
+“First of all, the new one.”
+
+“The covers, the goblets, and the dishes, with their covers, the eau-epergne, the ice-pails, the dishes for the preserves, and the tea and coffee urns, cost your ladyship sixty thousand francs.”
+
+“No more?”
+
+“Your ladyship thought the account very high.”
+
+“Yes, yes; I remember, in fact, that it was dear; but it was the workmanship, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes, madame; the designs, the chasings -- all new patterns.”
+
+“What proportion of the cost does the workmanship form? Do not hesitate to tell me.”
+
+“A third of its value, madame.”
+
+“There is the other service, the old one, that which belonged to my husband?”
+
+“Yes, madame; there is less workmanship in that than in the other. Its intrinsic value does not exceed thirty thousand francs.”
+
+“Thirty thousand,” murmured the marquise. “But, M. Faucheux, there is also the service which belonged to my mother; all that massive plate which I did not wish to part with, on account of the associations connected with it.”
+
+“Ah! madame, that would indeed be an excellent resource for those who, unlike your ladyship, might not be in position to keep their plate. In chasing that they worked in solid metal. But that service is no longer in fashion. Its weight is its only advantage.”
+
+“That is all I care about. How much does it weigh?”
+
+“Fifty thousand livres at the very least. I do not allude to the enormous vases for the buffet, which alone weigh five thousand livres, or ten thousand the pair.”
+
+“One hundred and thirty,” murmured the marquise. “You are quite sure of your figures, M. Faucheux?”
+
+“The amount is entered in my books. Your ladyship is extremely methodical, I am aware.”
+
+“Let us now turn to another subject,” said Madame de Belliere; and she opened one of her jewel-boxes.
+
+“I recognize these emeralds,” said M. Faucheux; “for it was I who had the setting of them. They are the most beautiful in the whole court. No, I am mistaken; Madame de Chatillon has the most beautiful set; she had them from Messieurs de Guise; but your set, madame, comes next.”
+
+“What are they worth?”
+
+“Mounted?”
+
+“No; supposing I wished to sell them.”
+
+“I know very well who would buy them,” exclaimed M. Faucheux.
+
+“That is the very thing I ask. They could be sold, then?”
+
+“All your jewels could be sold, madame. It is well known that you possess the most beautiful jewels in Paris. You are not changeable in your tastes; when you make a purchase it is of the very best; and what you purchase you do not part with.”
+
+“What could these emeralds be sold for, then?”
+
+“A hundred and thirty thousand francs.”
+
+The marquise wrote down upon her tablets the amount which the jeweler mentioned. “The ruby necklace?” she said.
+
+“Are they balas-rubies, madame?”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+“They are beautiful -- magnificent. I did not know your ladyship had these stones.”
+
+“What is their value?”
+
+“Two hundred thousand francs. The center one is alone worth a hundred thousand.”
+
+“I thought so,” said the marquise. “As for diamonds, I have them in numbers; rings, necklaces, sprigs, ear-rings, clasps. Tell me their value, M. Faucheux.”
+
+The jeweler took his magnifying-glass and scales, weighed and inspected them, and silently made his calculations. “These stones,” he said, “must have cost your ladyship an income of forty thousand francs.”
+
+“You value them at eight hundred thousand francs?”
+
+“Nearly so.”
+
+“It is about what I imagined -- but the settings are not included?”
+
+“No, madame; but if I were called upon to sell or to buy, I should be satisfied with the gold of the settings alone as my profit upon the transaction. I should make a good twenty-five thousand francs.”
+
+“An agreeable sum.”
+
+“Very much so, madame.”
+
+“Will you then accept that profit, then, on condition of converting the jewels into money?”
+
+“But you do not intend to sell you diamonds, I suppose, madame?” exclaimed the bewildered jeweler.
+
+“Silence, M. Faucheux, do not disturb yourself about that; give me an answer simply. You are an honorable man, with whom my family has dealt for thirty years; you knew my father and mother, whom your own father and mother served. I address you as a friend; will you accept the gold of the settings in return for a sum of ready money to be placed in my hands?”
+
+“Eight hundred thousand francs! it is enormous.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“Impossible to find.”
+
+“Not so.”
+
+“But reflect, madame, upon the effect which will be produced by the sale of your jewels.”
+
+“No one need know it. You can get sets of false jewels made for me, similar to the real. Do not answer a word; I insist upon it. Sell them separately, sell the stones only.”
+
+“In that way it is easy. Monsieur is looking out for some sets of jewels as well as single stones for Madame’s toilette. There will be a competition for them. I can easily dispose of six hundred thousand francs’ worth to Monsieur. I am certain yours are the most beautiful.”
+
+“When can you do so?”
+
+“In less than three days’ time.”
+
+“Very well, the remainder you will dispose of among private individuals. For the present, make me out a contract of sale, payment to be made in four days.”
+
+“I entreat you to reflect, madame; for if you force the sale, you will lose a hundred thousand francs.”
+
+“If necessary, I will lose two hundred; I wish everything to be settled this evening. Do you accept?”
+
+“I do, your ladyship. I will not conceal from you that I shall make fifty thousand francs by the transaction.”
+
+“So much the better for you. In what way shall I have the money?”
+
+“Either in gold, or in bills of the bank of Lyons, payable at M. Colbert’s.”
+
+“I agree,” said the marquise, eagerly; “return home and bring the sum in question in notes, as soon as possible.”
+
+“Yes, madame, but for Heaven’s sake -- ”
+
+“Not a word, M. Faucheux. By the by, I was forgetting the silver plate. What is the value of that which I have?”
+
+“Fifty thousand francs, madame.”
+
+“That makes a million,” said the marquise to herself. “M. Faucheux, you will take away with you both the gold and silver plate. I can assign, as a pretext, that I wish it remodeled on patters more in accordance with my own taste. Melt it down, and return me its value in money, at once.”
+
+“It shall be done, your ladyship.”
+
+“You will be good enough to place the money in a chest, and direct one of your clerks to accompany the chest, and without my servants seeing him; and order him to wait for me in a carriage.”
+
+“In Madame de Faucheux’s carriage?” said the jeweler.
+
+“If you will allow it, and I will call for it at your house.”
+
+“Certainly, your ladyship.”
+
+“I will direct some of my servants to convey the plate to your house.” The marquise rung. “Let the small van be placed at M. Faucheux’s disposal,” she said. The jeweler bowed and left the house, directing that the van should follow him closely, saying aloud, that the marquise was about to have her plate melted down in order to have other plate manufactured of a more modern style. Three hours afterwards she went to M. Faucheux’s house and received from him eight hundred francs in gold inclosed in a chest, which one of the clerks could hardly carry towards Madame Faucheux’s carriage -- for Madame Faucheux kept her carriage. As the daughter of a president of accounts, she had brought a marriage portion of thirty thousand crowns to her husband, who was syndic of the goldsmiths. These thirty thousand crowns had become very fruitful during twenty years. The jeweler, though a millionaire, was a modest man. He had purchased a substantial carriage, built in 1648, ten years after the king’s birth. This carriage, or rather house upon wheels, excited the admiration of the whole quarter in which he resided -- it was covered with allegorical paintings, and clouds scattered over with stars. The marquise entered this somewhat extraordinary vehicle, sitting opposite the clerk, who endeavored to put his knees out of the way, afraid even of touching the marquise’s dress. It was the clerk, too, who told the coachman, who was very proud of having a marquise to drive, to take the road to Saint-Mande.
+
+Chapter XXVIII. The Dowry.
+
+Monsieur Faucheux’s horses were serviceable animals, with thickset knees and legs that had some difficulty in moving. Like the carriage, they belonged to the earlier part of the century. They were not as fleet as the English horses of M. Fouquet, and consequently it took two hours to get to Saint-Mande. Their progress, it might be said, was majestic. Majesty, however, precludes hurry. The marquise stopped the carriage at the door so well known to her, although she had seen it only once, under circumstances, it will now be remembered, no less painful than those which brought her now to it again. She drew a key from her pocket, and inserted it into the lock, pushed open the door, which noiselessly yielded to her touch, and directed the clerk to carry the chest upstairs to the first floor. The weight of the chest was so great that the clerk was obliged to get the coachman to assist him with it. They placed it in a small cabinet, ante-room, or boudoir rather, adjoining the saloon where we once saw M. Fouquet at the marquise’s feet. Madame de Belliere gave the coachman a louis, smiled gracefully at the clerk, and dismissed them both. She closed the door after them, and waited in the room, alone and barricaded. There was no servant to be seen about the rooms, but everything was prepared as though some invisible genius had divined the wishes and desires of an expected guest. The fire was laid, candles in the candelabra, refreshments upon the table, books scattered about, fresh-cut flowers in the vases. One might almost have imagined it an enchanted house.
+
+The marquise lighted the candles, inhaled the perfume of the flowers, sat down, and was soon plunged in profound thought. Her deep musings, melancholy though they were, were not untinged with a certain vague joy. Spread out before her was a treasure, a million wrung from her fortune as a gleaner plucks the blue corn-flower from her crown of flowers. She conjured up the sweetest dreams. Her principal thought, and one that took precedence of all others, was to devise means of leaving this money for M. Fouquet without his possibly learning from whom the gift had come. This idea, naturally enough, was the first to present itself to her mind. But although, on reflection, it appeared difficult to carry out, she did not despair of success. She would then ring to summon M. Fouquet and make her escape, happier than if, instead of having given a million, she had herself found one. But, being there, and having seen the boudoir so coquettishly decorated that it might almost be said the least particle of dust had but the moment before been removed by the servants; having observed the drawing-room, so perfectly arranged that it might almost be said her presence there had driven away the fairies who were its occupants, she asked herself if the glance or gaze of those whom she had displaced -- whether spirits, fairies, elves, or human creatures -- had not already recognized her. To secure success, it was necessary that some steps should be seriously taken, and it was necessary also that the superintendent should comprehend the serious position in which he was placed, in order to yield compliance with the generous fancies of a woman; all the fascinations of an eloquent friendship would be required to persuade him, and, should this be insufficient, the maddening influence of a devoted passion, which, in its resolute determination to carry conviction, would not be turned aside. Was not the superintendent, indeed, known for his delicacy and dignity of feeling? Would he allow himself to accept from any woman that of which she had stripped herself? No! He would resist, and if any voice in the world could overcome his resistance, it would be the voice of the woman he loved.
+
+Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it not the same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness of conduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tears when they have gained a victory? “I must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,” said the marquise. “Who can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,” she said, “this is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,” she said, looking at the timepiece. “It is now seven o’clock,” she said; “he must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.” With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.
+
+A woman’s eye can read the face of the man she loves, its every feeling of pride, its every expression of suffering; it might almost be said that Heaven has graciously granted to women, on account of their very weakness, more than it has accorded to other creatures. They can conceal their own feelings from a man, but from them no man can conceal his. The marquise divined in a single glace the whole weight of the unhappiness of the superintendent. She divined a night passed without sleep, a day passed in deceptions. From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else. She arose and approached him, saying, “You wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes.”
+
+“What is that, madame?” said Fouquet, astonished.
+
+“That you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.”
+
+“Oh! madame,” said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, “you are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.”
+
+“Your forgiveness is granted, then,” said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. “No, no,” she said, “sit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.”
+
+“How do you detect it, madame?”
+
+“By the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.”
+
+“Tell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?”
+
+“Harsh?”
+
+“Yes; did you not forbid me to visit you?”
+
+“Alas!” said Madame de Belliere, sighing, “because your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.”
+
+Fouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. “I unhappy?” he said, endeavoring to smile: “indeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.”
+
+“It is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.”
+
+“It is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.”
+
+“Yes, four millions; I am aware of it.”
+
+“You know it?” exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; “how can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- ”
+
+“You perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- ”
+
+“You understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin’s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.”
+
+“So you have the amount?” inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.
+
+“It would indeed be strange, marquise,” replied Fouquet, cheerfully, “if a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying I shall have them?”
+
+“It is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.”
+
+“On the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.”
+
+“On the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.”
+
+“I am at a loss to compass your meaning,” said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.
+
+“Tell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?”
+
+“You surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.”
+
+“My reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.”
+
+“Really, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.”
+
+“Seriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.”
+
+“Surely it does not press,” said M. Fouquet.
+
+“On the contrary, it is very pressing.”
+
+“Very well, we will talk of that by and by.”
+
+“By and by will not do, for my money is there,” returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. “Madame, madame,” he murmured, “what opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?”
+
+“Of you!” returned the marquise. “Tell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.”
+
+“You bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?”
+
+“If you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?”
+
+“I have guessed rightly, then,” exclaimed Fouquet. “In truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.”
+
+“Insult you,” she said, turning pale, “what singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.”
+
+“Madame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven’s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.”
+
+“A short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.”
+
+Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: “overwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.”
+
+“I offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.”
+
+“Yes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.”
+
+“And what I am now doing is the act of a friend.”
+
+“No doubt it is.”
+
+“And you reject this mark of my friendship?”
+
+“I do reject it.”
+
+“Monsieur Fouquet, look at me,” said the marquise, with glistening eyes, “I now offer you my love.”
+
+“Oh, madame,” exclaimed Fouquet.
+
+“I have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.”
+
+“Oh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.”
+
+“Will you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?”
+
+“It will be the supremest happiness for me.”
+
+“Take me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.”
+
+“Do not tempt me.”
+
+“Do not refuse me.”
+
+“Think seriously of what you are proposing.”
+
+“Fouquet, but one word. Let it be ‘No,’ and I open this door,” and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, “and you will never see me again. Let that word be ‘Yes,’ and I am yours entirely.”
+
+“Elise! Elise! But this coffer?”
+
+“Contains my dowry.”
+
+“It is your ruin,” exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; “there must be a million here.”
+
+“Yes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.”
+
+“This is too much,” exclaimed Fouquet. “I yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.”
+
+“And take the woman with it,” said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.
+
+Chapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.
+
+During the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.
+
+De Wardes, irritated at finding himself dragged away in so abrupt a manner by this Englishman, had sought in his subtle mind for some means of escaping from his fetters; but no one having rendered him any assistance in this respect, he was absolutely obliged, therefore, to submit to the burden of his own evil thoughts and caustic spirit.
+
+Such of his friends in whom he had been able to confide, had, in their character of wits, rallied him upon the duke’s superiority. Others, less brilliant, but more sensible, had reminded him of the king’s orders prohibiting dueling. Others, again, and they the larger number, who, in virtue of charity, or national vanity, might have rendered him assistance, did not care to run the risk of incurring disgrace, and would, at the best, have informed the ministers of a departure which might end in a massacre on a small scale. The result was, that, after having fully deliberated upon the matter, De Wardes packed up his luggage, took a couple of horses, and, followed only by one servant, made his way towards the barrier, where Buckingham’s carriage was to await him.
+
+The duke received his adversary as he would have done an intimate acquaintance, made room beside him on the same seat with himself, offered him refreshments, and spread over his knees the sable cloak that had been thrown on the front seat. They then conversed of the court, without alluding to Madame; of Monsieur, without speaking of domestic affairs; of the king, without speaking of his brother’s wife; of the queen-mother, without alluding to her daughter-in-law; of the king of England, without alluding to his sister; of the state of the affections of either of the travelers, without pronouncing any name that might be dangerous. In this way the journey, which was performed by short stages, was most agreeable, and Buckingham, almost a Frenchman from wit and education, was delighted at having so admirably selected his traveling companion. Elegant repasts were served, of which they partook but lightly; trials of horses made in the beautiful meadows that skirted the road; coursing indulged in, for Buckingham had his greyhounds with him; and in such ways did they pass away the pleasant time. The duke somewhat resembled the beautiful river Seine, which folds France a thousand times in its loving embrace, before deciding upon joining its waters with the ocean. In quitting France, it was her recently adopted daughter he had brought to Paris whom he chiefly regretted; his every thought was a remembrance of her -- his every memory a regret. Therefore, whenever, now and then, despite his command over himself, he was lost in thought, De Wardes left him entirely to his musings. This delicacy might have touched Buckingham, and changed his feelings towards De Wardes, if the latter, while preserving silence, had shown a glance less full of malice, and a smile less false. Instinctive dislikes, however, are relentless; nothing appeases them; a few ashes may, sometimes, apparently, extinguish them; but beneath those ashes the smothered embers rage more furiously. Having exhausted every means of amusement the route offered, they arrived, as we have said, at Calais towards the end of the sixth day. The duke’s attendants, since the previous evening, had traveled in advance, and now chartered a boat, for the purpose of joining the yacht, which had been tacking about in sight, or bore broadside on, whenever it felt its white wings wearied, within cannon-shot of the jetty.
+
+The boat was destined for the transport of the duke’s equipages from the shore to the yacht. The horses had been embarked, having been hoisted from the boat upon the deck in baskets, expressly made for the purpose, and wadded in such a manner that their limbs, even in the most violent fits of terror or impatience, were always protected by the soft support which the sides afforded, and their coats not even turned. Eight of these baskets, placed side by side, filled the ship’s hold. It is well known that, in short voyages horses refuse to eat, but remain trembling all the while, with the best of food before them, such as they would have greatly coveted on land. By degrees, the duke’s entire equipage was transported on board the yacht; he was then informed that everything was in readiness, and that they only waited for him, whenever he would be disposed to embark with the French gentleman; for no one could possibly imagine that the French gentleman would have any other accounts to settle with his Grace other than those of friendship. Buckingham desired the captain to be told to hold himself in readiness, but that, as the sea was beautiful, and as the day promised a splendid sunset, he did not intend to go on board until nightfall, and would avail himself of the evening to enjoy a walk on the strand. He added also, that, finding himself in such excellent company, he had not the least desire to hasten his embarkation.
+
+As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him the magnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in the horizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun’s disc to the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds was tinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading away into opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried from base to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and upon the crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like a diamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, so dear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing in delicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yacht with its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky -- while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with their trimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such a spectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlers followed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistook the steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As for Buckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, and doublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than De Wardes, who was in black, like an attorney.
+
+The duke’s attendants had received directions to have a boat in readiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of their master, without approaching him until either he or his friend should summon them, -- “whatever may happen,” he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, “I think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.”
+
+“I await your orders, my lord, but -- ”
+
+“But, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king’s territory.”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“Well, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king’s charts. Do you observe it?”
+
+“Yes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.”
+
+“Yes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?”
+
+“I shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship’s.”
+
+“Very well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: ‘Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty’s territory.’ Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.”
+
+“My reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?”
+
+“Yes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?”
+
+“You will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.”
+
+“Oh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.”
+
+“As you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.”
+
+“I am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?”
+
+“As you please, my lord.”
+
+“Do not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.”
+
+“We are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- ”
+
+Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.
+
+“Upon my word, your Grace,” said De Wardes, “we shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?”
+
+“I have sunk up to the ankles,” said Buckingham, “without reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.”
+
+“It has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,” said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” said Buckingham, “one final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes,” concluded Buckingham as he saluted him.
+
+“And I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;” and De Wardes saluted Buckingham.
+
+Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham’s shoulder. The duke’s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.
+
+“You are wounded, my lord,” said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.
+
+“Yes, monsieur, but only slightly.”
+
+“Yet you quitted your guard.”
+
+“Only from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.” And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.
+
+“A hit?” he said.
+
+“No,” cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.
+
+“I beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- ” said Buckingham.
+
+“Well,” said De Wardes furiously, “it is now your turn.”
+
+And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham’s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke’s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, “Are you dead, marquis?”
+
+“No,” replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, “but very near it.”
+
+“Well, what is to be done; can you walk?” said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.
+
+“Impossible,” he replied. Then falling down again, said, “call to your people, or I shall be drowned.”
+
+“Halloa! boat there! quick, quick!”
+
+The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke’s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.
+
+“No, no,” exclaimed the duke, “take the marquis on shore first.”
+
+“Death to the Frenchman!” cried the English sullenly.
+
+“Wretched knaves!” exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, “obey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes’s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!”
+
+The boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.
+
+“I commit him to your care, as you value your lives,” said the duke. “Take M. de Wardes on shore.” They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke’s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying: “From my master, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possible care may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes.”
+
+Then, followed by those who had accompanied him, he returned to the boat, which Buckingham had been enabled to reach with the greatest difficulty, but only after he had seen De Wardes out of danger. By this time it was high tide; embroidered coats, and silk sashes were lost; many hats, too, had been carried away by the waves. The flow of the tide had borne the duke’s and De Wardes’s clothes to the shore, and De Wardes was wrapped in the duke’s doublet, under the belief that it was his own, when the fishermen carried him in their arms towards the town.
+
+Chapter XXX. Threefold Love.
+
+As soon as Buckingham departed, Guiche imagined the coast would be perfectly clear for him without any interference. Monsieur, who no longer retained the slightest feeling of jealousy, and who, besides, permitted himself to be monopolized by the Chevalier de Lorraine, allowed as much liberty and freedom in his house as the most exacting could desire. The king, on his side, who had conceived a strong predilection for his sister-in-law’s society, invented a variety of amusements, in quick succession to each other, in order to render her residence in Paris as cheerful as possible, so that in fact, not a day passed without a ball at the Palais Royal, or a reception in Monsieur’s apartments. The king had directed that Fontainebleau should be prepared for the reception of the court, and every one was using his utmost interest to get invited. Madame led a life of incessant occupation; neither her voice nor her pen were idle for a moment. The conversations with De Guiche were gradually assuming a tone of interest which might unmistakably be recognized as the prelude of a deep-seated attachment. When eyes look languishingly while the subject under discussion happens to be colors of materials for dresses; when a whole hour is occupied in analyzing the merits and the perfume of a sachet or a flower; -- there are words in this style of conversation which every one might listen to, but there are gestures and sighs that every one cannot perceive. After Madame had talked for some time with De Guiche, she conversed with the king, who paid her a visit regularly every day. They played, wrote verses, or selected mottoes or emblematical devices; this spring was not only the Maytide of nature, it was the youth of an entire people, of which those at court were the head. The king was handsome, young, and of unequaled gallantry. All women were passionately loved by him, even the queen, his wife. This mighty monarch was, however, more timid and more reserved than any other person in the kingdom, to such a degree, indeed, that he did not confess his sentiments even to himself. This timidity of bearing restrained him within the limits of ordinary politeness, and no woman could boast of having any preference shown her beyond that shown to others. It might be foretold that the day when his real character would be displayed would be the dawn of a new sovereignty; but as yet he had not declared himself. M. de Guiche took advantage of this, and constituted himself the sovereign prince of the whole laughter-loving court. It had been reported that he was on the best of terms with Mademoiselle de Montalais; that he had been assiduously attentive to Mademoiselle de Chatillon; but now he was not even barely civil to any of the court beauties. He had eyes and ears for one person alone. In this manner, and, as it were, without design, he devoted himself to Monsieur, who had a great regard for him, and kept him as much as possible in his own apartments. Unsociable from natural disposition, he had estranged himself too much previous to the arrival of Madame, but, after her arrival, he did not estrange himself sufficiently. This conduct, which every one had observed, had been particularly remarked by the evil genius of the house, the Chevalier de Lorraine, for whom Monsieur exhibited the warmest attachment because he was of a very cheerful disposition, even in his remarks most full of malice, and because he was never at a loss how to wile the time away. The Chevalier de Lorraine, therefore, having noticed that he was threatened with being supplanted by De Guiche, resorted to strong measures. He disappeared from the court, leaving Monsieur much embarrassed. The first day of his absence, Monsieur hardly inquired about him, for he had De Guiche with him, and, except that the time given to conversation with Madame, his days and nights were rigorously devoted to the prince. On the second day, however, Monsieur, finding no one near him, inquired where the chevalier was. He was told that no one knew.
+
+De Guiche, after having spent the morning in selecting embroideries and fringes with Madame, went to console the prince. But after dinner, as there were some amethysts to be looked at, De Guiche returned to Madame’s cabinet. Monsieur was left quite to himself during the time devoted to dressing and decorating himself; he felt that he was the most miserable of men, and again inquired whether there was any news of the chevalier, in reply to which he was told that no one could tell where the chevalier was to be found. Monsieur, hardly knowing in what direction to inflict his weariness, went to Madame’s apartments dressed in his morning-gown. He found a large assemblage of people there, laughing and whispering in every part of the room; at one end, a group of women around one of the courtiers, talking together, amid smothered bursts of laughter; at the other end, Manicamp and Malicorne were being pillaged at cards by Montalais and Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, while two others were standing by, laughing. In another part were Madame, seated upon some cushions on the floor, and De Guiche, on his knees beside her, spreading out a handful of pearls and precious stones, while the princess, with her white and slender fingers pointed out such among them as pleased her the most. Again, in another corner of the room, a guitar player was playing some of the Spanish seguedillas, to which Madame had taken the greatest fancy ever since she had heard them sung by the young queen with a melancholy expression of voice. But the songs which the Spanish princess had sung with tears in her eyes, the young Englishwoman was humming with a smile that well displayed her beautiful teeth. The cabinet presented, in fact, the most perfect representation of unrestrained pleasure and amusement. As he entered, Monsieur was struck at beholding so many persons enjoying themselves without him. He was so jealous at the sight that he could not resist exclaiming, like a child, “What! you are amusing yourselves here, while I am sick and tired of being alone!”
+
+The sound of his voice was like a clap of thunder coming to interrupt the warbling of birds under the leafy covert of the trees; a dead silence ensued. De Guiche was on his feet in a moment. Malicorne tried to hide himself behind Montalais. Manicamp stood bolt upright, and assumed a very ceremonious demeanor. The guitar player thrust his instrument under a table, covering it with a piece of carpet to conceal it from the prince’s observation. Madame was the only one who did not move, and smiling at her husband, said, “Is not this the hour you usually devote to your toilette?”
+
+“An hour which others select, it seems, for amusing themselves,” replied the prince, grumblingly.
+
+This untoward remark was the signal for a general rout; the women fled like a flock of terrified starlings; the guitar player vanished like a shadow; Malicorne, still protected by Montalais, who purposely widened out her dress, glided behind the hanging tapestry. As for Manicamp, he went to the assistance of De Guiche, who naturally remained near Madame, and both of them, with the princess herself, courageously sustained the attack. The count was too happy to bear malice against the husband; but Monsieur bore a grudge against his wife. Nothing was wanting but a quarrel; he sought it, and the hurried departure of the crowd, which had been so joyous before he arrived, and was so disturbed by his entrance, furnished him with a pretext.
+
+“Why do they run away at the very sight of me?” he inquired, in a supercilious tone; to which remark Madame replied, that, “whenever the master of the house made his appearance, the family kept aloof out of respect.” As she said this, she made so funny and so pretty a grimace, that De Guiche and Manicamp could not control themselves; they burst into a peal of laugher; Madame followed their example, and even Monsieur himself could not resist it, and he was obliged to sit down, as, for laughing, he could scarcely keep his equilibrium. However, he very soon left off, but his anger had increased. He was still more furious because he had permitted himself to laugh, than from having seen others laugh. He looked at Manicamp steadily, not venturing to show his anger towards De Guiche; but, at a sign which displayed no little amount of annoyance, Manicamp and De Guiche left the room, so that Madame, left alone, began sadly to pick up her pearls and amethysts, no longer smiling, and speaking still less.
+
+“I am very happy,” said the duke, “to find myself treated as a stranger here, Madame,” and he left the room in a passion. On his way out, he met Montalais, who was in attendance in the ante-room. “It is very agreeable to pay you a visit here, but outside the door.”
+
+Montalais made a very low obeisance. “I do not quite understand what your royal highness does me the honor to say.”
+
+“I say that when you are all laughing together in Madame’s apartment, he is an unwelcome visitor who does not remain outside.”
+
+“Your royal highness does not think, and does not speak so, of yourself?”
+
+“On the contrary, it is on my own account that I do speak and think. I have no reason, certainly, to flatter myself about the reception I meet with here at any time. How is it that, on the very day there is music and a little society in Madame’s apartments -- in my own apartments, indeed, for they are mine -- on the very day that I wish to amuse myself a little in my turn, every one runs away? Are they afraid to see me, that they all take wing as soon as I appear? Is there anything wrong, then, going on in my absence?”
+
+“Yet nothing has been done to-day, monseigneur, which is not done every day.”
+
+“What! do they laugh like that every day?”
+
+“Why, yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“The same group of people simpering and the same singing and strumming going on every day?”
+
+“The guitar, monseigneur, was introduced to-day; but when we have no guitars, we have violins and flutes; ladies soon weary without music.”
+
+“The deuce! -- and the men?”
+
+“What men, monseigneur?”
+
+“M. de Guiche, M. de Manicamp, and the rest of them?”
+
+“They all belong to your highness’s household.”
+
+“Yes, yes, you are right,” said the prince, as he returned to his own apartments, full of thought. He threw himself into the largest of his arm-chairs, without looking at himself in the glass. “Where can the chevalier be?” said he. One of the prince’s attendants happened to be near him, overheard his remark, and replied, -- 
+
+“No one knows, your highness.”
+
+“Still the same answer. The first one who answers me again, ‘I do not know,’ I will discharge.” Every one at this remark hurried out of his apartments, in the same manner as the others had fled from Madame’s apartments. The prince then flew into the wildest rage. He kicked over a chiffonier, which tumbled on the carpet, broken into pieces. He next went into the galleries, and with the greatest coolness threw down, one after another, an enameled vase, a porphyry ewer, and a bronze candelabrum. The noise summoned every one to the various doors.
+
+“What is your highness’s pleasure?” said the captain of the guards, timidly.
+
+“I am treating myself to some music,” replied the prince, gnashing his teeth.
+
+The captain of the guards desired his royal highness’s physician to be sent for. But before he came, Malicorne arrived, saying to the prince, “Monseigneur, the Chevalier de Lorraine is here.”
+
+The duke looked at Malicorne, and smiled graciously at him, just as the chevalier entered.
+
+Chapter XXXI. M. de Lorraine’s Jealousy.
+
+The Duc d’Orleans uttered a cry of delight on perceiving the Chevalier de Lorraine. “This is fortunate, indeed,” he said; “by what happy chance do I see you? Had you indeed disappeared, as every one assured me?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“A caprice?”
+
+“I to venture upon caprices with your highness! The respect -- ”
+
+“Put respect out of the way, for you fail in it every day. I absolve you; but why did you leave me?”
+
+“Because I felt that I was of no further use to you.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Your highness has people about you who are far more amusing that I can ever be. I felt I was not strong enough to enter into contest with them, and I therefore withdrew.”
+
+“This extreme diffidence shows a want of common sense. Who are those with whom you cannot contend? De Guiche?”
+
+“I name no one.”
+
+“This is absurd. Does De Guiche annoy you?”
+
+“I do not say he does; do not force me to speak, however; you know very well that De Guiche is one of our best friends.”
+
+“Who is it, then?”
+
+“Excuse me, monseigneur, let us say no more about it.” The chevalier knew perfectly well that curiosity is excited in the same way as thirst -- by removing that which quenches it; or in other words, by denying an explanation.
+
+“No, no,” said the prince; “I wish to know why you went away.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur, I will tell you; but do not get angry. I remarked that my presence was disagreeable.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“To Madame.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said the duke in astonishment.
+
+“It is simple enough; Madame is very probably jealous of the regard you are good enough to testify for me.”
+
+“Has she shown it to you?”
+
+“Madame never addresses a syllable to me, particularly since a certain time.”
+
+“Since what time?”
+
+“Since the time when, M. de Guiche having made himself more agreeable to her than I could, she receives him at every and any hour.”
+
+The duke colored. “At any hour, chevalier; what do you mean by that?”
+
+“You see, your highness, I have already displeased you; I was quite sure I should.”
+
+“I am not displeased; but what you say is rather startling. In what respect does Madame prefer De Guiche to you?”
+
+“I shall say no more,” said the chevalier, saluting the prince ceremoniously.
+
+“On the contrary, I require you to speak. If you withdraw on that account, you must indeed be very jealous.”
+
+“One cannot help being jealous, monseigneur, when one loves. Is not your royal highness jealous of Madame? Would you not, if you saw some one always near Madame, and always treated with great favor, take umbrage at it? One’s friends are as one’s lovers. Your highness has sometimes conferred the distinguished honor upon me of calling me your friend.”
+
+“Yes, yes,; but you used a phrase which has a very equivocal significance; you are unfortunate in your phrases.”
+
+“What phrase, monseigneur?”
+
+“You said, ‘treated with great favor.’ What do you mean by favor?”
+
+“Nothing can be more simple,” said the chevalier, with an expression of great frankness; “for instance, whenever a husband remarks that his wife summons such and such a man near her; whenever this man is always to be found by her side, or in attendance at the door of her carriage; whenever the bouquet of the one is always the same color as the ribbons of the other; when music and supper parties are held in private apartments; whenever a dead silence takes place immediately the husband makes his appearance in his wife’s rooms; and when the husband suddenly finds that he has, as a companion, the most devoted and the kindest of men, who, a week before, was with him as little as possible; why, then -- ”
+
+“Well, finish.”
+
+“Why, then, I say, monseigneur, one possibly may get jealous. But all these details hardly apply; for our conversation had nothing to do with them.”
+
+The duke was evidently very much agitated, and seemed to struggle with himself a good deal. “You have not told me,” he then remarked, “why you absented yourself. A little while ago you said it was from a fear of intruding; you added, even, that you had observed a disposition on Madame’s part to encourage De Guiche.”
+
+“Pardon me, monseigneur, I did not say that.”
+
+“You did, indeed.”
+
+“Well, if I did say so, I observed nothing but what was very inoffensive.”
+
+“At all events, you remarked something.”
+
+“You embarrass me, monseigneur.”
+
+“What does that matter? Answer me. If you speak the truth, why should you feel embarrassed?”
+
+“I always speak the truth, monseigneur; but I also always hesitate when it is a question of repeating what others say.”
+
+“Ah! repeat? It appears that it is talked about, then?”
+
+“I acknowledge that others have spoken to me on the subject.”
+
+“Who?” said the prince.
+
+The chevalier assumed almost an angry air, as he replied, “Monseigneur, you are subjecting me to cross-examination; you treat me as a criminal at the bar; the rumors which idly pass by a gentleman’s ears do not remain there. Your highness wishes me to magnify rumors until it attains the importance of an event.”
+
+“However,” said the duke, in great displeasure, “the fact remains that you withdrew on account of this report.”
+
+“To speak the truth, others have talked to me of the attentions of M. de Guiche to Madame, nothing more; perfectly harmless, I repeat, and more than that, allowable. But do not be unjust, monseigneur, and do not attach any undue importance to it. It does not concern you.”
+
+“M. de Guiche’s attentions to Madame do not concern me?”
+
+“No, monseigneur; and what I say to you I would say to De Guiche himself, so little do I think of the attentions he pays Madame. Nay, I would say it even to Madame herself. Only you understand what I am afraid of -- I am afraid of being thought jealous of the favor shown, when I am only jealous as far as friendship is concerned. I know your disposition; I know that when you bestow your affections you become exclusively attached. You love Madame -- and who, indeed, would not love her? Follow me attentively as I proceed: -- Madame has noticed among your friends the handsomest and most fascinating of them all; she will begin to influence you on his behalf in such a way that you will neglect the others. Your indifference would kill me; it is already bad enough to have to support Madame’s indifference. I have, therefore, made up my mind to give way to the favorite whose happiness I envy, even while I acknowledge my sincere friendship and sincere admiration for him. Well, monseigneur, do you see anything to object to in this reasoning? Is it not that of a man of honor? Is my conduct that of a sincere friend? Answer me, at least, after having so closely questioned me.”
+
+The duke had seated himself, with his head buried in his hands. After a silence long enough to enable the chevalier to judge the effect of this oratorical display, the duke arose, saying, “Come, be candid.”
+
+“As I always am.”
+
+“Very well. You know that we already observed something respecting that mad fellow, Buckingham.”
+
+“Do not say anything against Madame, monseigneur, or I shall take my leave. It is impossible you can be suspicious of Madame?”
+
+“No, no, chevalier; I do not suspect Madame; but in fact, I observe -- I compare -- ”
+
+“Buckingham was a madman, monseigneur.”
+
+“A madman about whom, however, you opened my eyes thoroughly.”
+
+“No, no,” said the chevalier, quickly; “it was not I who opened your eyes, it was De Guiche. Do not confound us, I beg.” And he began to laugh in so harsh a manner that it sounded like the hiss of a serpent.
+
+“Yes, yes; I remember. You said a few words, but De Guiche showed the most jealousy.”
+
+“I should think so,” continued the chevalier, in the same tone. “He was fighting for home and altar.”
+
+“What did you say?” said the duke, haughtily, thoroughly roused by this insidious jest.
+
+“Am I not right? for does not M. de Guiche hold the chief post of honor in your household?”
+
+“Well,” replied the duke, somewhat calmed, “had this passion of Buckingham been remarked?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Very well. Do people say that M. de Guiche’s is remarked as much?”
+
+“Pardon me, monseigneur; you are again mistaken; no one says that M. de Guiche entertains anything of the sort.”
+
+“Very good.”
+
+“You see, monseigneur, that it would have been better, a hundred times better, to have left me in my retirement, than to have allowed you to conjure up, by aid of any scruples I may have had, suspicions which Madame will regard as crimes, and she would be in the right, too.”
+
+“What would you do?”
+
+“Act reasonably.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“I should not pay the slightest attention to the society of these new Epicurean philosophers; and, in that way, the rumors will cease.”
+
+“Well, I will see; I will think it over.”
+
+“Oh, you have time enough; the danger is not great; and then, besides, it is not a question of danger or of passion. It all arose from a fear I had to see your friendship for me decrease. From the very moment you restore it, with so kind an assurance of its existence, I have no longer any other idea in my head.”
+
+The duke shook his head as if he meant to say: “If you have no more ideas, I have, though.” It being now the dinner hour, the prince sent to inform Madame of it; but she returned a message to the effect that she could not be present, but would dine in her own apartment.
+
+“That is not my fault,” said the duke. “This morning, having taken them by surprise in the midst of a musical party, I got jealous; and so they are in the sulks with me.”
+
+“We will dine alone,” said the chevalier, with a sigh; “I regret De Guiche is not here.”
+
+“Oh! De Guiche will not remain long in the sulks; he is a very good-natured fellow.”
+
+“Monseigneur,” said the chevalier, suddenly, “an excellent idea has struck me, in our conversation just now. I may have exasperated your highness, and caused you some dissatisfaction. It is but fitting that I should be the mediator. I will go and look for the count, and bring him back with me.”
+
+“Ah! chevalier, you are really a very good-natured fellow.”
+
+“You say that as if you were surprised.”
+
+“Well, you are not so tender-hearted every day.”
+
+“That may be; but confess that I know how to repair a wrong I may have done.”
+
+“I confess that.”
+
+“Will your highness do me the favor to wait here a few minutes?”
+
+“Willingly; be off, and I will try on my Fontainebleau costume.”
+
+The chevalier left the room, called his different attendant with the greatest care, as if he were giving them different orders. All went off in various directions; but he retained his valet de chambre. “Ascertain, and immediately, too, of M. de Guiche is not in Madame’s apartments. How can one learn it?”
+
+“Very easily, monsieur. I will ask Malicorne, who will find out from Mlle. de Montalais. I may as well tell you, however, that the inquiry will be useless; for all M. de Guiche’s attendants are gone, and he must have left with them.”
+
+“Ascertain, nevertheless.”
+
+Ten minutes had hardly passed, when the valet returned. He beckoned his master mysteriously towards the servants’ staircase, and showed him into a small room with a window looking out upon the garden. “What is the matter?” said the chevalier; “why so many precautions?”
+
+“Look, monsieur,” said the valet, “look yonder, under the walnut-tree.”
+
+“Ah?” said the chevalier. “I see Manicamp there. What is he waiting for?”
+
+“You will see in a moment, monsieur, if you wait patiently. There, do you see now?”
+
+“I see one, two, four musicians with their instruments, and behind them, urging them on, De Guiche himself. What is he doing there, though?”
+
+“He is waiting until the little door of the staircase, belonging to the ladies of honor, is opened; by that staircase he will ascend to Madame’s apartments, where some new pieces of music are going to be performed during dinner.”
+
+“This is admirable news you tell me.”
+
+“Is it not, monsieur?”
+
+“Was it M. de Malicorne who told you this?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“He likes you, then?”
+
+“No, monsieur, it is Monsieur that he likes.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because he wishes to belong to his household.”
+
+“And most certainly he shall. How much did he give you for that?”
+
+“The secret which I now dispose of to you, monsieur.”
+
+“And which I buy for a hundred pistoles. Take them.”
+
+“Thank you, monsieur. Look, look, the little door opens; a woman admits the musicians.”
+
+“It is Montalais.”
+
+“Hush, monseigneur; do not call out her name; whoever says Montalais says Malicorne. If you quarrel with the one, you will be on bad terms with the other.”
+
+“Very well; I have seen nothing.”
+
+“And I,” said the valet, pocketing the purse, “have received nothing.”
+
+The chevalier, being now certain that Guiche had entered, returned to the prince, whom he found splendidly dressed and radiant with joy, as with good looks. “I am told,” he exclaimed, “that the king has taken the sun as his device; really, monseigneur, it is you whom this device would best suit.”
+
+“Where is De Guiche?”
+
+“He cannot be found. He has fled -- has evaporated entirely. Your scolding of this morning terrified him. He could not be found in his apartments.”
+
+“Bah! the hair-brained fellow is capable of setting off post-haste to his own estates. Poor man! we will recall him. Come, let us dine now.”
+
+“Monseigneur, to-day is a very festival of ideas; I have another.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Madame is angry with you, and she has reason to be so. You owe her revenge; go and dine with her.”
+
+“Oh! that would be acting like a weak and whimsical husband.”
+
+“It is the duty of a good husband to do so. The princess is no doubt wearied enough; she will be weeping in her plate, and here eyes will get quite red. A husband who is the cause of his wife’s eyes getting red is an odious creature. Come, monseigneur, come.”
+
+“I cannot; for I have directed dinner to be served here.”
+
+“Yet see, monseigneur, how dull we shall be; I shall be low-spirited because I know that Madame will be alone; you, hard and savage as you wish to appear, will be sighing all the while. Take me with you to Madame’s dinner, and that will be a delightful surprise. I am sure we shall be very merry; you were in the wrong this morning.”
+
+“Well, perhaps I was.”
+
+“There is no perhaps at all, for it is a fact you were so.”
+
+“Chevalier, chevalier, your advice is not good.”
+
+“Nay, my advice is good; all the advantages are on your own side. Your violet-colored suit, embroidered with gold, becomes you admirably. Madame will be as much vanquished by the man as by the action. Come, monseigneur.”
+
+“You decide me; let us go.”
+
+The duke left his room, accompanied by the chevalier and went towards Madame’s apartments. The chevalier hastily whispered to the valet, “Be sure there are some people before that little door, so that no one can escape in that direction. Run, run!” And he followed the duke towards the ante-chambers of Madame’s suite of apartments, and when the ushers were about to announce them, the chevalier said, laughing, “His highness wishes to surprise Madame.”
+
+Chapter XXXII. Monsieur is Jealous of Guiche.
+
+Monsieur entered the room abruptly, as persons do who mean well and think they confer pleasure, or as those who hope to surprise some secret, the terrible reward of jealous people. Madame, almost out of her senses with joy at the first bars of music, was dancing in the most unrestrained manner, leaving the dinner, which had been already begun, unfinished. Her partner was M. de Guiche, who, with his arms raised, and his eyes half closed, was kneeling on one knee, like the Spanish dancers, with looks full of passion, and gestures of the most caressing character. The princess was dancing round him with a responsive smile, and the same air of alluring seductiveness. Montalais stood by admiringly; La Valliere, seated in a corner of the room, looked on thoughtfully. It is impossible to describe the effect which the presence of the prince produced upon this gleeful company, and it would be equally impossible to describe the effect which the sight of their happiness produced upon Philip. The Comte de Guiche had no power to move; Madame remained in the middle of one of the figures and of an attitude, unable to utter a word. The Chevalier de Lorraine, leaning his back against the doorway, smiled like a man in the very height of the frankest admiration. The pallor of the prince, and the convulsive twitching of his hands and limbs, were the first symptoms that struck those present. A dead silence succeeded the merry music of the dance. The Chevalier de Lorraine took advantage of this interval to salute Madame and De Guiche most respectfully, affecting to join them together in his reverences as though they were the master and mistress of the house. Monsieur then approached them, saying, in a hoarse tone of voice, “I am delighted; I came here expecting to find you ill and low-spirited, and I find you abandoning yourself to new amusements; really, it is most fortunate. My house is the pleasantest in the kingdom.” Then turning towards De Guiche, “Comte,” he said, “I did not know you were so good a dancer.” And, again addressing his wife, he said, “Show a little more consideration for me, Madame; whenever you intend to amuse yourselves here, invite me. I am a prince, unfortunately, very much neglected.”
+
+Guiche had now recovered his self-possession, and with the spirited boldness which was natural to him, and sat so well upon him, he said, “Your highness knows very well that my very life is at your service, and whenever there is a question of its being needed, I am ready; but to-day, as it is only a question of dancing to music, I dance.”
+
+“And you are perfectly right,” said the prince, coldly. “But, Madame,” he continued, “you do not remark that your ladies deprive me of my friends; M. de Guiche does not belong to you, Madame, but to me. If you wish to dine without me you have your ladies. When I dine alone I have my gentlemen; do not strip me of everything.”
+
+Madame felt the reproach and the lesson, and the color rushed to her face. “Monsieur,” she replied, “I was not aware, when I came to the court of France, that princesses of my rank were to be regarded as the women in Turkey are. I was not aware that we were not allowed to be seen; but, since such is your desire, I will conform myself to it; pray do not hesitate, if you should wish it, to have my windows barred, even.”
+
+This repartee, which made Montalais and De Guiche smile, rekindled the prince’s anger, no inconsiderable portion of which had already evaporated in words.
+
+“Very well,” he said, in a concentrated tone of voice, “this is the way in which I am respected in my own house.”
+
+“Monseigneur, monseigneur,” murmured the chevalier in the duke’s ear, in such a manner that every one could observe he was endeavoring to calm him.
+
+“Come,” replied the prince, as his only answer to the remark, hurrying him away, and turning round with so hasty a movement that he almost ran against Madame. The chevalier followed him to his own apartment, where the prince had no sooner seated himself than he gave free vent to his fury. The chevalier raised his eyes towards the ceiling, joined his hands together, and said not a word.
+
+“Give me your opinion,” exclaimed the prince.
+
+“Upon what?”
+
+“Upon what is taking place here.”
+
+“Oh, monseigneur, it is a very serious matter.”
+
+“It is abominable! I cannot live in this manner.”
+
+“How miserable all this is,” said the chevalier. “We hoped to enjoy tranquillity after that madman Buckingham had left.”
+
+“And this is worse.”
+
+“I do not say that, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, but I say it; for Buckingham would never have ventured upon a fourth part of what we have just now seen.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“To conceal oneself for the purposes of dancing, and to feign indisposition in order to dine tete-a-tete.”
+
+“No, no, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” exclaimed the prince, exciting himself like a self-willed child; “but I will not endure it any longer, I must learn what is really going on.”
+
+“Oh, monseigneur, an exposure -- ”
+
+“By Heaven, monsieur, shall I put myself out of the way, when people show so little consideration for me? Wait for me here, chevalier, wait for me here.” The prince disappeared in the neighboring apartment and inquired of the gentleman in attendance if the queen-mother had returned from chapel.
+
+Anne of Austria felt that her happiness was now complete; peace restored to her family, a nation delighted with the presence of a young monarch who had shown an aptitude for affairs of great importance; the revenues of the state increased; external peace assured; everything seemed to promise a tranquil future. Her thoughts recurred, now and then, to the poor young nobleman whom she had received as a mother, and had driven away as a hard-hearted step-mother, and she sighed as she thought of him.
+
+Suddenly the Duc d’Orleans entered her room. “Dear mother,” he exclaimed hurriedly, closing the door, “things cannot go on as they are now.”
+
+Anne of Austria raised her beautiful eyes towards him, and with an unmoved suavity of manner, said, “What do you allude to?”
+
+“I wish to speak of Madame.”
+
+“Your wife?”
+
+“Yes, madame.”
+
+“I suppose that silly fellow Buckingham has been writing a farewell letter to her.”
+
+“Oh! yes, madame; of course, it is a question of Buckingham.”
+
+“Of whom else could it be, then? for that poor fellow was, wrongly enough, the object of your jealousy, and I thought -- ”
+
+“My wife, madame, has already replaced the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Philip, what are you saying? You are speaking very heedlessly.”
+
+“No, no. Madame has so managed matters, that I am still jealous.”
+
+“Of whom, in Heaven’s name?”
+
+“Is it possible you have not remarked it? Have you not noticed that M. de Guiche is always in her apartments -- always with her?”
+
+The queen clapped her hands together, and began to laugh. “Philip,” she said, “your jealousy is not merely a defect, it is a disease.”
+
+“Whether a defect or a disease, madame, I am the sufferer from it.”
+
+“And do you imagine that a complaint which exists only in your own imagination can be cured? You wish it to be said you are right in being jealous, when there is no ground whatever for your jealousy.”
+
+“Of course, you will begin to say for this gentleman what you already said on the behalf of the other.”
+
+“Because, Philip,” said the queen dryly, “what you did for the other, you are going to do for this one.”
+
+The prince bowed, slightly annoyed. “If I give you facts,” he said, “will you believe me?”
+
+“If it regarded anything else but jealousy, I would believe you without your bringing facts forward; but as jealousy is the case, I promise nothing.”
+
+“It is just the same as if your majesty were to desire me to hold my tongue, and sent me away unheard.”
+
+“Far from it; you are my son, I owe you a mother’s indulgence.”
+
+“Oh, say what you think; you owe me as much indulgence as a madman deserves.”
+
+“Do not exaggerate, Philip, and take care how you represent your wife to me as a woman of depraved mind -- ”
+
+“But facts, mother, facts!”
+
+“Well, I am listening.”
+
+“This morning at ten o’clock they were playing music in Madame’s apartments.”
+
+“No harm in that, surely.”
+
+“M. de Guiche was talking with her alone -- Ah! I forgot to tell you, that, during the last ten days, he has never left her side.”
+
+“If they were doing any harm they would hide themselves.”
+
+“Very good,” exclaimed the duke, “I expected you to say that. Pray remember with precision the words you have just uttered. This morning I took them by surprise, and showed my dissatisfaction in a very marked manner.”
+
+“Rely upon it, that is quite sufficient; it was, perhaps, even a little too much. These young women easily take offense. To reproach them for an error they have not committed is, sometimes, almost equivalent to telling them they might be guilty of even worse.”
+
+“Very good, very good; but wait a minute. Do not forget what you have just this moment said, that this morning’s lesson ought to have been sufficient, and that if they had been doing what was wrong, they would have hidden themselves.”
+
+“Yes, I said so.”
+
+“Well, just now, repenting of my hastiness of the morning, and imagining that Guiche was sulking in his own apartments, I went to pay Madame a visit. Can you guess what, or whom, I found there? Another set of musicians; more dancing, and Guiche himself -- he was concealed there.”
+
+Anne of Austria frowned. “It was imprudent,” she said. “What did Madame say?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“And Guiche?”
+
+“As much -- oh, no! he muttered some impertinent remark or another.”
+
+“Well, what is your opinion, Philip?”
+
+“That I have been made a fool of; that Buckingham was only a pretext, and that Guiche is the one who is really to blame in the matter.”
+
+Anne shrugged her shoulders. “Well,” she said, “what else?”
+
+“I wish De Guiche to be dismissed from my household, as Buckingham was, and I shall ask the king, unless -- ”
+
+“Unless what?”
+
+“Unless you, my dear mother, who are so clever and so kind, will execute the commission yourself.”
+
+“I will not do it, Philip.”
+
+“What, madame?”
+
+“Listen, Philip; I am not disposed to pay people ill compliments every day; I have some influence over young people, but I cannot take advantage of it without running the chances of losing it altogether. Besides, there is nothing to prove that M. de Guiche is guilty.”
+
+“He has displeased me.”
+
+“That is your own affair.”
+
+“Very well, I know what I shall do,” said the prince, impetuously.
+
+Anne looked at him with some uneasiness. “What do you intend to do?” she said.
+
+“I will have him drowned in my fish-pond the very next time I find him in my apartments again.” Having launched this terrible threat, the prince expected his mother would be frightened out of her senses; but the queen was unmoved.
+
+“Do so,” she said.
+
+Philip was as weak as a woman, and began to cry out, “Every one betrays me, -- no one cares for me; my mother, even, joins my enemies.”
+
+“Your mother, Philip, sees further in the matter than you do, and does not care about advising you, since you will not listen to her.”
+
+“I will go to the king.”
+
+“I was about to propose that to you. I am now expecting his majesty; it is the hour he usually pays me a visit; explain the matter to him yourself.”
+
+She had hardly finished when Philip heard the door of the ante-room open with some noise. He began to feel nervous. At the sound of the king’s footsteps, which could be heard upon the carpet, the duke hurriedly made his escape. Anne of Austria could not resist laughing, and was laughing still when the king entered. He came very affectionately to inquire after the even now uncertain health of the queen-mother, and to announce to her that the preparations for the journey to Fontainebleau were complete. Seeing her laugh, his uneasiness on her account diminished, and he addressed her in a vivacious tone himself. Anne of Austria took him by the hand, and, in a voice full of playfulness, said, “Do you know, sire that I am proud of being a Spanish woman?”
+
+“Why, madame?”
+
+“Because Spanish women are worth more than English women at least.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Since your marriage you have not, I believe, had a single reproach to make against the queen.”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“And you, too, have been married some time. Your brother, on the contrary, has been married but a fortnight.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“He is now finding fault with Madame a second time.”
+
+“What, Buckingham still?”
+
+“No, another.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Guiche.”
+
+“Really? Madame is a coquette, then?”
+
+“I fear so.”
+
+“My poor brother,” said the king, laughing.
+
+“You don’t object to coquettes, it seems?”
+
+“In Madame, certainly I do; but Madame is not a coquette at heart.”
+
+“That may be, but your brother is excessively angry about it.”
+
+“What does he want?”
+
+“He wants to drown Guiche.”
+
+“That is a violent measure to resort to.”
+
+“Do not laugh; he is extremely irritated. Think of what can be done.”
+
+“To save Guiche -- certainly.”
+
+“Of, if your brother heard you, he would conspire against you as your uncle did against your father.”
+
+“No; Philip has too much affection for me for that, and I, on my side, have too great a regard for him; we shall live together on very good terms. But what is the substance of his request?”
+
+“That you will prevent Madame from being a coquette and Guiche from being amiable.”
+
+“Is that all? My brother has an exalted idea of sovereign power. To reform a man, not to speak about reforming a woman!”
+
+“How will you set about it?”
+
+“With a word to Guiche, who is a clever fellow, I will undertake to convince him.”
+
+“But Madame?”
+
+“That is more difficult; a word will not be enough. I will compose a homily and read it to her.”
+
+“There is no time to be lost.”
+
+“Oh, I will use the utmost diligence. There is a repetition of the ballet this afternoon.”
+
+“You will read her a lecture while you are dancing?”
+
+“Yes, madame.”
+
+“You promise to convert her?”
+
+“I will root out the heresy altogether, either by convincing her, or by extreme measures.”
+
+“That is all right, then. Do not mix me up in the affair; Madame would never forgive me all her life, and as a mother-in-law, I ought to desire to live on good terms with my new-found daughter.”
+
+“The king, madame, will take all upon himself. But let me reflect.”
+
+“What about?”
+
+“It would be better, perhaps, if I were to go and see Madame in her own apartment.”
+
+“Would that not seem a somewhat serious step to take?”
+
+“Yes; but seriousness is not unbecoming in preachers, and the music of the ballet would drown half my arguments. Besides, the object is to prevent any violent measures on my brother’s part, so that a little precipitation may be advisable. Is Madame in her own apartment?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“What is my statement of grievances to consist of?”
+
+“In a few words, of the following: music uninterruptedly; Guiche’s assiduity; suspicions of treasonable plots and practices.”
+
+“And the proofs?”
+
+“There are none.”
+
+“Very well; I will go at once to see Madame.” The king turned to look in the mirrors at his costume, which was very rich, and his face, which was radiant as the morning. “I suppose my brother is kept a little at a distance,” said the king.
+
+“Fire and water cannot be more opposite.”
+
+“That will do. Permit me, madame, to kiss your hands, the most beautiful hands in France.”
+
+“May you be successful, sire, as the family peacemaker.”
+
+“I do not employ an ambassador,” said Louis, “which is as much as to say that I shall succeed.” He laughed as he left the room, and carelessly adjusted his ruffles as he went along.
+
+Chapter XXXIII. The Mediator.
+
+When the king made his appearance in Madame’s apartments, the courtiers, whom the news of a conjugal misunderstanding had dispersed through the various apartments, began to entertain the most serious apprehensions. A storm was brewing in that direction, the elements of which the Chevalier de Lorraine, in the midst of the different groups, was analyzing with delight, contributing to the weaker, and acting, according to his own wicked designs, in such a manner with regard to the stronger, as to produce the most disastrous consequences possible. As Anne of Austria had herself said, the presence of the king gave a solemn and serious character to the event. Indeed, in the year 1662, the dissatisfaction of Monsieur with Madame, and the king’s intervention in the private affairs of Monsieur, was a matter of no inconsiderable moment. [3]
+
+The boldest, even, who had been the associates of the Comte de Guiche, had, from the first moment, held aloof from him, with a sort of nervous apprehension; and the comte himself, infected by the general panic, retired to his own room. The king entered Madame’s private apartments, acknowledging and returning the salutations, as he was always in the habit of doing. The ladies of honor were ranged in a line on his passage along the gallery. Although his majesty was very much preoccupied, he gave the glance of a master at the two rows of young and beautiful girls, who modestly cast down their eyes, blushing as they felt the king’s gaze fall upon them. One only of the number, whose long hair fell in silken masses upon the most beautiful skin imaginable, was pale, and could hardly sustain herself, notwithstanding the knocks which her companion gave her with her elbow. It was La Valliere whom Montalais supported in that manner by whispering some of that courage to her with which she herself was so abundantly provided. The king could not resist turning round to look at them again. Their faces, which had already been raised, were again lowered, but the only fair head among them remained motionless, as if all the strength and intelligence she had left had abandoned her. When he entered Madame’s room, Louis found his sister-in-law reclining upon the cushions of her cabinet. She rose and made a profound reverence, murmuring some words of thanks for the honor she was receiving. She then resumed her seat, overcome by a sudden weakness, which was no doubt assumed, for a delightful color animated her cheeks, and her eyes, still red from the tears she had recently shed, never had more fire in them. When the king was seated, as soon as he had remarked, with that accuracy of observation which characterized him, the disorder of the apartment, and the no less great disorder of Madame’s countenance, he assumed a playful manner, saying, “My dear sister, at what hour to-day would you wish the repetition of the ballet to take place?”
+
+Madame, shaking her charming head, slowly and languishingly said: “Ah! sire, will you graciously excuse my appearance at the repetition? I was about to send to inform you that I could not attend to-day.”
+
+“Indeed,” said the king, in apparent surprise; “are you not well?”
+
+“No, sire.”
+
+“I will summon your medical attendants, then.”
+
+“No, for they can do nothing for my indisposition.”
+
+“You alarm me.”
+
+“Sire, I wish to ask your majesty’s permission to return to England.”
+
+The king started. “Return to England,” he said; “do you really say what you mean?”
+
+“I say it reluctantly, sire,” replied the grand-daughter of Henry IV., firmly, her beautiful black eyes flashing. “I regret to have to confide such matters to your majesty, but I feel myself too unhappy at your majesty’s court; and I wish to return to my own family.”
+
+“Madame, madame,” exclaimed the king, as he approached her.
+
+“Listen to me, sire,” continued the young woman, acquiring by degrees that ascendency over her interrogator which her beauty and her nervous nature conferred; “young as I am, I have already suffered humiliation, and have endured disdain here. Oh! do not contradict me, sire,” she said, with a smile. The king colored.
+
+“Then,” she continued, “I had reasoned myself into the belief that Heaven called me into existence with that object -- I, the daughter of a powerful monarch; that since my father had been deprived of life, Heaven could well smite my pride. I have suffered greatly; I have been the cause, too, of my mother suffering much; but I vowed that if Providence ever placed me in a position of independence, even were it that of a workman of the lower classes, who gains her bread by her labor, I would never suffer humiliation again. That day has now arrived; I have been restored to the fortune due to my rank and to my birth; I have even ascended again the steps of a throne, and I thought that, in allying myself with a French prince, I should find in him a relation, a friend, an equal; but I perceive I have found only a master, and I rebel. My mother shall know nothing of it; you whom I respect, and whom I -- love -- ”
+
+The king started; never had any voice so gratified his ear.
+
+“You, sire, who know all, since you have come here; you will, perhaps, understand me. If you had not come, I should have gone to you. I wish for permission to go away. I leave it to your delicacy of feeling to exculpate and to protect me.”
+
+“My dear sister,” murmured the king, overpowered by this bold attack, “have you reflected upon the enormous difficulty of the project you have conceived?”
+
+“Sire, I do not reflect, I feel. Attacked, I instinctively repel the attack, nothing more.”
+
+“Come, tell me, what have they done to you?” said the king.
+
+The princess, it will have been seen, by this peculiarly feminine maneuver, had escaped every reproach, and advanced on her side a far more serious one; from the accused she became the accuser. It is an infallible sign of guilt; but notwithstanding that, all women, even the least clever of the sex, invariably know how to derive some such means of turning the tables. The king had forgotten that he was paying her a visit in order to say to her, “What have you done to my brother?” and he was reduced to weakly asking her, “What have they done to you?”
+
+“What have they done to me?” replied Madame. “One must be a woman to understand it, sire -- they have made me shed tears;” and, with one of her fingers, whose slenderness and perfect whiteness were unequaled, she pointed to her brilliant eyes swimming with unshed drops, and again began to weep.
+
+“I implore you, my dear sister!” said the king, advancing to take her warm and throbbing hand, which she abandoned to him.
+
+“In the first place, sire, I was deprived of the presence of my brother’s friend. The Duke of Buckingham was an agreeable, cheerful visitor; my own countryman, who knew my habits; I will say almost a companion, so accustomed had we been to pass our days together, with our other friends, upon the beautiful piece of water at St. James’s.”
+
+“But Villiers was in love with you.”
+
+“A pretext! What does it matter,” she said, seriously, “whether the duke was in love with me or not? Is a man in love so very dangerous for me? Ah! sire, it is not sufficient for a man to love a woman.” And she smiled so tenderly, and with so much archness, that the king felt his heart swell and throb in his breast.
+
+“At all events, if my brother were jealous?” interrupted the king.
+
+“Very well, I admit that is a reason; and the duke was sent away accordingly.”
+
+“No, not sent away.”
+
+“Driven away, dismissed, expelled, then, if you prefer it, sire. One of the first gentlemen of Europe obliged to leave the court of the King of France, of Louis XIV., like a beggar, on account of a glance or a bouquet. It was little worthy of a most gallant court; but forgive me, sire; I forgot, that, in speaking thus, I am attacking your sovereign power.”
+
+“I assure you, my dear sister, it was not I who dismissed the Duke of Buckingham; I was charmed with him.”
+
+“It was not you?” said Madame; “ah! so much the better;” and she emphasized the “so much the better,” as if she had instead said, “so much the worse.”
+
+A few minutes’ silence ensued. She then resumed: “The Duke of Buckingham having left -- I now know why and by whose means -- I thought I should have recovered my tranquillity; but not at all, for all at once Monsieur found another pretext; all at once -- ”
+
+“All at once,” said the king, playfully, “some one else presents himself. It is but natural; you are beautiful, and will always meet with men who will madly love you.”
+
+“In that case,” exclaimed the princess, “I will create a solitude around me, which indeed seems to be what is wished, and what is being prepared for me. But no, I prefer to return to London. There I am known and appreciated. I shall have friends, without fearing they may be regarded as my lovers. Shame! it is a disgraceful suspicion, and unworthy a gentleman. Monsieur has lost everything in my estimation, since he has shown me he can be a tyrant to a woman.”
+
+“Nay, nay, my brother’s only fault is that of loving you.”
+
+“Love me! Monsieur love me! Ah! sire,” and she burst out laughing. “Monsieur will never love any woman,” she said; “Monsieur loves himself too much; no, unhappily for me, Monsieur’s jealousy is of the worst kind -- he is jealous without love.”
+
+“Confess, however,” said the king, who began to be excited by this varied and animated conversation; “confess that Guiche loves you.”
+
+“Ah! sire, I know nothing about that.”
+
+“You must have perceived it. A man who loves readily betrays himself.”
+
+“M. de Guiche has not betrayed himself.”
+
+“My dear sister, you are defending M. de Guiche.”
+
+“I, indeed! Ah, sire, I only needed a suspicion from yourself to crown my wretchedness.”
+
+“No, madame, no,” returned the king, hurriedly; “do not distress yourself. Nay, you are weeping. I implore you to calm yourself.”
+
+She wept, however, and large tears fell upon her hands; the king took one of her hands in his, and kissed the tears away. She looked at him so sadly and with so much tenderness that he felt his heart giving way under her gaze.
+
+“You have no kind of feeling, then, for Guiche?” he said, more disturbed than became his character of mediator.
+
+“None -- absolutely none.”
+
+“Then I can reassure my brother in that respect?”
+
+“Nothing will satisfy him, sire. Do not believe he is jealous. Monsieur has been badly advised by some one, and he is of nervous disposition.”
+
+“He may well be so when you are concerned,” said the king.
+
+Madame cast down her eyes, and was silent; the king did so likewise, still holding her hand all the while. Their momentary silence seemed to last an age. Madame gently withdrew her hand, and from that moment, she felt her triumph was certain, and that the field of battle was her own.
+
+“Monsieur complains,” said the king, “that you prefer the society of private individuals to his own conversation and society.”
+
+“But Monsieur passes his life in looking at his face in the glass, and in plotting all sorts of spiteful things against women with the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+“Oh, you are going somewhat too far.”
+
+“I only tell you what is true. Do you observe for yourself, sire, and you will see that I am right.”
+
+“I will observe; but, in the meantime, what satisfaction can I give my brother?”
+
+“My departure.”
+
+“You repeat that word,” exclaimed the king, imprudently, as if, during the last ten minutes, such a change had been produced that Madame would have had all her ideas on the subject thoroughly changed.
+
+“Sire, I cannot be happy here any longer,” she said. “M. de Guiche annoys Monsieur. Will he be sent away, too?”
+
+“If it be necessary, why not?” replied the king, smiling.
+
+“Well; and after M. de Guiche -- whom, by the by, I shall regret -- I warn you, sire.”
+
+“Ah, you will regret him?”
+
+“Certainly; he is amiable, he has a great friendship for me, and he amuses me.”
+
+“If Monsieur were only to hear you,” said the king, slightly annoyed, “do you know I would not undertake to make it up again between you; nay, I would not even attempt it.”
+
+“Sire, can you, even now, prevent Monsieur from being jealous of the first person who may approach? I know very well that M. de Guiche is not the first.”
+
+“Again I warn you that as a good brother I shall take a dislike to De Guiche.”
+
+“Ah, sire, do not, I entreat you, adopt either the sympathies or the dislikes of Monsieur. Remain king; better for yourself and for every one else.”
+
+“You jest charmingly, madame; and I can well understand how the people you attack must adore you.”
+
+“And is that the reason why you, sire, whom I had regarded as my defender, are about to join these who persecute me?” said Madame.
+
+“I your persecutor! Heaven forbid!”
+
+“Then,” she continued, languishingly, “grant me a favor.”
+
+“Whatever you wish.”
+
+“Let me return to England.”
+
+“Never, never!” exclaimed Louis XIV.
+
+“I am a prisoner, then?”
+
+“In France -- if France is a prison -- yes.”
+
+“What must I do, then?”
+
+“I will tell you. Instead of devoting yourself to friendships which are somewhat unstable, instead of alarming us by your retirement, remain always in our society, do not leave us, let us live as a united family. M. de Guiche is certainly very amiable; but if, at least, we do not possess his wit -- ”
+
+“Ah, sire, you know very well you are pretending to be modest.”
+
+“No, I swear to you. One may be a king, and yet feel that he possesses fewer chances of pleasing than many other gentlemen.”
+
+“I am sure, sire, that you do not believe a single word you are saying.”
+
+The king looked at Madame tenderly, and said, “Will you promise me one thing?”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That you will no longer waste upon strangers, in your own apartments, the time which you owe us. Shall we make an offensive and defensive alliance against the common enemy?”
+
+“An alliance with you, sire?”
+
+“Why not? Are you not a sovereign power?”
+
+“But are you, sire, a reliable ally?”
+
+“You shall see, madame.”
+
+“And when shall this alliance commence?”
+
+“This very day.”
+
+“I will draw up the treaty, and you shall sign it.”
+
+“Blindly.”
+
+“Then, sire, I promise you wonders; you are the star of the court, and when you make your appearance, everything will be resplendent.”
+
+“Oh, madame, madame,” said Louis XIV., “you know well that there is no brilliancy that does not proceed from yourself, and that if I assume the sun as my device, it is only an emblem.”
+
+“Sire, you flatter your ally, and you wish to deceive her,” said Madame, threatening the king with her finger menacingly raised.
+
+“What! you believe I am deceiving you, when I assure you of my affection?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What makes you so suspicious?”
+
+“One thing.”
+
+“What is it? I shall indeed be unhappy if I do not overcome it.”
+
+“That one thing in question, sire, is not in your power, not even in the power of Heaven.”
+
+“Tell me what it is.”
+
+“The past.”
+
+“I do not understand, madame,” said the king, precisely because he had understood her but too well.
+
+The princess took his hand in hers. “Sire,” she said, “I have had the misfortune to displease you for so long a period, that I have almost the right to ask myself to-day why you were able to accept me as a sister-in-law.”
+
+“Displease me! You have displeased me?”
+
+“Nay, do not deny it, for I remember it well.”
+
+“Our alliance shall date from to-day,” exclaimed the king, with a warmth that was not assumed. “You will not think any more of the past, will you? I myself am resolved that I will not. I shall always remember the present; I have it before my eyes; look.” And he led the princess before a mirror, in which she saw herself reflected, blushing and beautiful enough to overcome a saint.
+
+“It is all the same,” she murmured; “it will not be a very worthy alliance.”
+
+“Must I swear?” inquired the king, intoxicated by the voluptuous turn the whole conversation had taken.
+
+“Oh, I will not refuse to witness a resounding oath,” said Madame; “it has always the semblance of security.”
+
+The king knelt upon a footstool and took Madame’s hand. She, with a smile that no painter could ever succeed in depicting, and which a poet might only imagine, gave him both her hands, in which he hid his burning face. Neither of them could utter a syllable. The king felt Madame withdraw her hands, caressing his face while she did so. He rose immediately and left the apartment. The courtiers remarked his heightened color, and concluded that the scene had been a stormy one. The Chevalier de Lorraine, however, hastened to say, “Nay, be comforted, gentlemen, his majesty is always pale when he is angry.”
+
+Chapter XXXIV. The Advisers.
+
+The king left Madame in a state of agitation it would have been difficult even for himself to have explained. It is impossible, in fact, to depict the secret play of those strange sympathies which, suddenly and apparently without any cause, are excited, after many years passed in the greatest calmness and indifference, by two hearts destined to love each other. Why had Louis formerly disdained, almost hated, Madame? Why did he now find the same woman so beautiful, so captivating? And why, not only were his thoughts occupied about her, but still more, why were they so continuously occupied about her? Why, in fact, had Madame, whose eyes and mind were sought for in another direction, shown during the last week towards the king a semblance of favor which encouraged the belief of still greater regard. It must not be supposed that Louis proposed to himself any plan of seduction; the tie which united Madame to his brother was, or at least, seemed to him, an insuperable barrier; he was even too far removed from that barrier to perceive its existence. But on the downward path of those passions in which the heart rejoices, towards which youth impels us, no one can decide where to stop, not even the man who has in advance calculated all the chances of his own success or another’s submission. As far as Madame was concerned, her regard for the king may easily be explained: she was young, a coquette, and ardently fond of admiration. Hers was one of those buoyant, impetuous natures, which upon a theatre would leap over the greatest obstacles to obtain an acknowledgement of applause from the spectators. It was not surprising, then, that, after having been adored by Buckingham, by De Guiche, who was superior to Buckingham, even if it were only from that negative merit, so much appreciated by women, that is to say, novelty -- it was not surprising, we say, that the princess should raise her ambition to being admired by the king, who not only was the first person in the kingdom, but was one of the handsomest and cleverest men in Europe. As for the sudden passion with which Louis was inspired for his sister-in-law, physiology would perhaps supply an explanation by some hackneyed commonplace reasons, and nature by means of her mysterious affinity of characters. Madame had the most beautiful black eyes in the world; Louis, eyes as beautiful, but blue. Madame was laughter-loving and unreserved in her manners; Louis, melancholy and diffident. Summoned to meet each other for the first time upon the grounds of interest and common curiosity, these two opposite natures were mutually influenced by the mingling of their reciprocal contradictions of character. Louis, when he returned to his own rooms, acknowledged to himself that Madame was the most attractive woman of his court. Madame, left alone, delightedly thought that she had made a great impression on the king. This feeling with her must remain passive, whilst the king could not but act with all the natural vehemence of the heated fancies of a young man, and of a young man who has but to express a wish to see his wish fulfilled.
+
+The first thing the king did was to announce to Monsieur that everything was quietly arranged; that Madame had the greatest respect, the sincerest affection for him; but that she was of a proud, impetuous character, and that her susceptibilities were so acute as to require very careful management.
+
+Monsieur replied in the reticent tone of voice he generally adopted with his brother, that he could not very well understand the susceptibilities of a woman whose conduct might, in his opinion, expose her to censorious remarks, and that if any one had a right to feel wounded, it was he, Monsieur himself. To this the king replied in a quick tone of voice, which showed the interest he took in his sister-in-law, “Thank Heaven, Madame is above censure.”
+
+“The censure of others, certainly, I admit,” said Monsieur; “but not above mine, I presume.”
+
+“Well,” said the king, “all I have to say, Philip, is that Madame’s conduct does not deserve your censure. She certainly is heedless and singular, but professes the best feelings. The English character is not always well understood in France, and the liberty of English manners sometimes surprises those who do not know the extent to which this liberty is enriched by innocence.”
+
+“Ah!” said Monsieur, more and more piqued, “from the very moment that your majesty absolves my wife, whom I accuse, my wife is not guilty, and I have nothing more to say.”
+
+“Philip,” replied the king hastily, for he felt the voice of conscience murmuring softly in his heart, that Monsieur was not altogether wrong, “what I have done, and what I have said, has been only for your happiness. I was told that you complained of a want of confidence and attention on Madame’s part, and I did not wish your uneasiness to be prolonged. It is part of my duty to watch over your household, as over that of the humblest of my subjects. I have satisfied myself, therefore, with the sincerest pleasure, that your apprehensions have no foundation.”
+
+“And,” continued Monsieur, in an interrogative tone of voice, and fixing his eyes upon his brother, “what your majesty has discovered for Madame -- and I bow myself to your superior judgment -- have you verified for those who have been the cause of the scandal of which I complain?”
+
+“You are right, Philip,” said the king; “I will reserve that point for future consideration.”
+
+These words comprised an order as well as a consolation; the prince felt it to be so, and withdrew.
+
+As for Louis, he went to seek his mother, for he felt that he had need of a more complete absolution than that he had just received from his brother. Anne of Austria did not entertain for M. de Guiche the same reasons for indulgence she had had for Buckingham. She perceived, at the very first words he pronounced, that Louis was not disposed to be severe.
+
+To appear in a contradictory humor was one of the stratagems of the good queen, in order to succeed in ascertaining the truth. But Louis was no longer in his apprenticeship; already for more than a year past he had been king, and during that year he had learned how to dissemble. Listening to Anne of Austria, in order to permit her to disclose her own thoughts, testifying his approval only by look and gesture, he became convinced, from certain piercing glances, and from certain skillful insinuations, that the queen, so clear-sighted in matters of gallantry, had, if not guessed, at least suspected, his weakness for Madame. Of all his auxiliaries, Anne of Austria would be the most important to secure; of all his enemies, Anne of Austria would prove most dangerous. Louis, therefore, changed his maneuvers. He complained of Madame, absolved Monsieur, listened to what his mother had to say of De Guiche, as he had previously listened to what she had to say of Buckingham, and then, when he saw that she thought she had gained a complete victory over him, he left her.
+
+The whole of the court, that is to say, all the favorites and more intimate associates, and they were numerous, since there were already five masters, were assembled in the evening for the repetition of the ballet. This interval had been occupied by poor De Guiche in receiving visits; among the number was one which he hoped and feared nearly to an equal extent. It was that of the Chevalier de Lorraine. About three o’clock in the afternoon the chevalier entered De Guiche’s rooms. His looks were of the most reassuring character. “Monsieur,” said he to De Guiche, “was in an excellent humor, and no none could say that the slightest cloud had passed across the conjugal sky. Besides, Monsieur was not one to bear ill-feeling.”
+
+For a long time past, during his residence at the court, the Chevalier de Lorraine had decided, that of Louis XIII.’s two sons, Monsieur was the one who had inherited the father’s character -- an uncertain, irresolute character; impulsively good, indifferently disposed at bottom; but certainly a cipher for his friends. He especially cheered De Guiche, by pointing out to him that Madame would, before long, succeed in governing her husband, and that, consequently, that man would govern Monsieur who should succeed in influencing Madame.
+
+To this, De Guiche full of mistrust and presence of mind, replied, “Yes, chevalier; but I believe Madame to be a very dangerous person.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“She has perceived that Monsieur is not very passionately inclined towards women.”
+
+“Quite true,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, laughing.
+
+“In that case, Madame will choose the first one who approaches, in order to make him the object of her preference, and to bring back her husband by jealousy.”
+
+“Deep! deep!” exclaimed the chevalier.
+
+“But true,” replied De Guiche.
+
+Neither the one nor the other expressed his real thought. De Guiche, at the very moment he thus attacked Madame’s character, mentally asked her forgiveness from the bottom of his heart. The chevalier, while admiring De Guiche’s penetration, was leading him, blindfolded, to the brink of the precipice. De Guiche then questioned him more directly upon the effect produced by the scene of the morning, and upon the still more serious effect produced by the scene at dinner.
+
+“But I have already told you they are all laughing at it,” replied the Chevalier de Lorraine, “and Monsieur himself at the head of them.”
+
+“Yet,” hazarded De Guiche, “I have heard that the king paid Madame a visit.”
+
+“Yes, precisely so. Madame was the only one who did not laugh, and the king went to her in order to make her laugh, too.”
+
+“So that -- ”
+
+“So that nothing is altered in the arrangements of the day,” said the chevalier.
+
+“And is there a repetition of the ballet this evening?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Are you sure?”
+
+“Quite,” returned the chevalier.
+
+At this moment of the conversation between the two young men, Raoul entered, looking full of anxiety. As soon as the chevalier, who had a secret dislike for him, as for every other noble character, perceived him enter, he rose from his seat.
+
+“What do you advise me to do, then?” inquired De Guiche of the chevalier.
+
+“I advise you to go to sleep in perfect tranquillity, my dear count.”
+
+“And my advice, De Guiche,” said Raoul, “is the very opposite.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“To mount your horse and set off at once for one of your estates; on your arrival, follow the chevalier’s advice, if you like; and, what is more, you can sleep there as long and as tranquilly as you please.”
+
+“What! set off!” exclaimed the chevalier, feigning surprise; “why should De Guiche set off?”
+
+“Because, and you cannot be ignorant of it -- you particularly so -- because every one is talking about the scene which has passed between Monsieur and De Guiche.”
+
+De Guiche turned pale.
+
+“Not at all,” replied the chevalier, “not at all; and you have been wrongly informed, M. de Bragelonne.”
+
+“I have been perfectly well informed, on the contrary, monsieur,” replied Raoul, “and the advice I give De Guiche is that of a friend.”
+
+During this discussion, De Guiche, somewhat shaken, looked alternately first at one and then at the other of his advisers. He inwardly felt that a game, important in all its consequences for the rest of his life, was being played at that moment.
+
+“Is it not fact,” said the chevalier, putting the question to the count himself, “is it not fact, De Guiche, that the scene was not so tempestuous as the Vicomte de Bragelonne seems to think, and who, moreover, was not himself there?”
+
+“Whether tempestuous or not,” persisted Raoul, “it is not precisely of the scene itself that I am speaking, but of the consequences that may ensue. I know that Monsieur has threatened, I know that Madame has been in tears.”
+
+“Madame in tears!” exclaimed De Guiche, imprudently clasping his hands.
+
+“Ah!” said the chevalier, laughing, “this is indeed a circumstance I was not acquainted with. You are decidedly better informed than I am, Monsieur de Bragelonne.”
+
+“And it is because I am better informed than yourself, chevalier, that I insist upon De Guiche leaving.”
+
+“No, no; I regret to differ from you, vicomte; but his departure is unnecessary. Why, indeed, should he leave? tell us why.”
+
+“The king!”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Yes; I tell you the king has taken up the affair.”
+
+“Bah!” said the chevalier, “the king likes De Guiche, and particularly his father; reflect, that, if the count were to leave, it would be an admission that he had done something which merited rebuke.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“No doubt of it; when one runs away, it is either from guilt or fear.”
+
+“Sometimes, because a man is offended; often because he is wrongfully accused,” said Bragelonne. “We will assign as a reason for his departure, that he feels hurt and injured -- nothing will be easier; we will say that we both did our utmost to keep him, and you, at least, will not be speaking otherwise than the truth. Come, De Guiche, you are innocent, and, being so, the scene of to-day must have wounded you. So set off.”
+
+“No, De Guiche, remain where you are,” said the chevalier; “precisely as M. de Bragelonne has put it, because you are innocent. Once more, forgive me, vicomte; but my opinion is the very opposite to your own.”
+
+“And you are at perfect liberty to maintain it, monsieur; but be assured that the exile which De Guiche will voluntarily impose upon himself will be of short duration. He can terminate it whenever he pleases, and returning from his voluntary exile, he will meet with smiles from all lips; while, on the contrary, the anger of the king may now draw down a storm upon his head, the end of which no one can foresee.”
+
+The chevalier smiled, and muttered to himself, “That is the very thing I wish.” And at the same time he shrugged his shoulders, a movement which did not escape the count, who dreaded, if he quitted the court, to seem to yield to a feeling of fear.
+
+“No, no; I have decided, Bragelonne; I stay.”
+
+“I prophesy, then,” said Raoul, sadly, “that misfortune will befall you, De Guiche.”
+
+“I, too, am a prophet, but not a prophet of evil; on the contrary, count, I say to you, ‘remain.’”
+
+“Are you sure,” inquired De Guiche, “that the repetition of the ballet still takes place?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“Well, you see, Raoul,” continued De Guiche, endeavoring to smile, “you see, the court is not so very sorrowful, or so readily disposed for internal dissensions, when dancing is carried on with such assiduity. Come, acknowledge that,” said the count to Raoul, who shook his head, saying, “I have nothing to add.”
+
+“But,” inquired the chevalier, curious to learn whence Raoul had obtained his information, the exactitude of which he was inwardly forced to admit, “since you say you are well informed, vicomte, how can you be better informed than myself, who am one of the prince’s most intimate companions?”
+
+“To such a declaration I submit. You certainly ought to be perfectly well informed, I admit; and, as a man of honor is incapable of saying anything but what he knows to be true, or of speaking otherwise than what he thinks, I will say no more, but confess myself defeated, and leave you in possession of the field of battle.”
+
+Whereupon Raoul, who now seemed only to care to be left quiet, threw himself upon a couch, whilst the count summoned his servants to aid him in dressing. The chevalier, finding that time was passing away, wished to leave; but he feared, too, that Raoul, left alone with De Guiche, might yet influence him to change his mind. He therefore made use of his last resource.
+
+“Madame,” he said, “will be brilliant; she appears to-day in her costume of Pomona.”
+
+“Yes, that is so,” exclaimed the count.
+
+“And she has just given directions in consequence,” continued the chevalier. “You know, Monsieur de Bragelonne, that the king is to appear as Spring.”
+
+“It will be admirable,” said De Guiche; “and that is a better reason for me to remain than any you have yet given, because I am to appear as Autumn, and shall have to dance with Madame. I cannot absent myself without the king’s orders, since my departure would interrupt the ballet.”
+
+“I,” said the chevalier, “am to be only a simple egypan; true, it is, I am a bad dancer, and my legs are not well made. Gentlemen, adieu. Do not forget the basket of fruit, which you are to offer to Pomona, count.”
+
+“Rest assured,” said De Guiche, delightedly, “I shall forget nothing.”
+
+“I am now quite certain that he will remain,” murmured the Chevalier de Lorraine to himself.
+
+Raoul, when the chevalier had left, did not even attempt to dissuade his friend, for he felt that it would be trouble thrown away; he merely observed to the comte, in his melancholy and melodious voice, “You are embarking in a most dangerous enterprise. I know you well; you go to extremes in everything, and the lady you love does so, too. Admitting for an instant that she should at last love you -- ”
+
+“Oh, never!” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Why do you say never?”
+
+“Because it would be a great misfortune for both of us.”
+
+“In that case, instead of regarding you simply imprudent, I cannot but consider you absolutely mad.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Are you perfectly sure -- mind, answer me frankly -- that you do not wish her whom you love to make any sacrifice for you?”
+
+“Yes, yes; quite sure.”
+
+“Love her, then, at a distance.”
+
+“What! at a distance?”
+
+“Certainly; what matters being present or absent, since you expect nothing from her? Love her portrait, a memento.”
+
+“Raoul!”
+
+“Love is a shadow, an illusion, a chimera; be devoted to the affection itself, in giving a name to your ideality.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“You turn away; your servants approach. I will say no more. In good or bad fortune, De Guiche, depend on me.”
+
+“Indeed I shall do so.”
+
+“Very well; that is all I had to say to you. Spare no pains in your person, De Guiche, and look your very best. Adieu.”
+
+“You will not be present, then, at the ballet, vicomte?”
+
+“No; I shall have a visit to pay in town. Farewell, De Guiche.”
+
+The reception was to take place in the king’s apartments. In the first place, there were the queens, then Madame, and a few ladies of the court, who had been carefully selected. A great number of courtiers, also selected, occupied the time, before the dancing commenced, in conversing, as people knew how to converse in those times. None of the ladies who had received invitations appeared in the costumes of the fete, as the Chevalier de Lorraine had predicted, but many conversations took place about the rich and ingenious toilettes designed by different painters for the ballet of “The Demi-Gods,” for thus were termed the kings and queens of which Fontainebleau was about to become the Pantheon. Monsieur arrived, holding in his hand a drawing representing his character; he looked somewhat anxious; he bowed courteously to the young queen and his mother, but saluted Madame almost cavalierly. His notice of her and his coldness of manner were observed by all. M. de Guiche indemnified the princess by a look of passionate devotion, and it must be admitted that Madame, as she raised her eyes, returned it to him with interest. It is unquestionable that De Guiche had never looked so handsome, for Madame’s glance had its customary effect of lighting up the features of the son of the Marshal de Gramont. The king’s sister-in-law felt a storm mustering above her head; she felt, too, that during the whole of the day, so fruitful in future events, she had acted unjustly, if not treasonably, towards one who loved her with such a depth of devotion. In her eyes the moment seemed to have arrived for an acknowledgement to the poor victim of the injustice of the morning. Her heart spoke, and murmured the name of De Guiche; the count was sincerely pitied and accordingly gained the victory over all others. Neither Monsieur, nor the king, nor the Duke of Buckingham, was any longer thought of; De Guiche at that moment reigned without a rival. But although Monsieur also looked very handsome, still he could not be compared to the count. It is well known -- indeed all women say so -- that a wide difference invariably exists between the good looks of a lover and those of a husband. Besides, in the present case, after Monsieur had left, and after the courteous and affectionate recognition of the young queen and of the queen-mother, and the careless and indifferent notice of Madame, which all the courtiers had remarked; all these motives gave the lover the advantage over the husband. Monsieur was too great a personage to notice these details. Nothing is so certain as a well settled idea of superiority to prove the inferiority of the man who has that opinion of himself. The king arrived. Every one looked for what might possibly happen in the glance, which began to bestir the world, like the brow of Jupiter Tonans. Louis had none of his brother’s gloominess, but was perfectly radiant. Having examined the greater part of the drawings which were displayed for his inspection on every side, he gave his opinion or made his remarks upon them, and in this manner rendered some happy and others wretched by a single word. Suddenly his glance, which was smilingly directed towards Madame, detected the slight correspondence established between the princess and the count. He bit his lips, but when he opened them again to utter a few commonplace remarks, he said, advancing towards the queens: -- 
+
+“I have just been informed that everything is now prepared at Fontainebleau, in accordance with my directions.” A murmur of satisfaction arose from the different groups, and the king perceived on every face the greatest anxiety to receive an invitation for the fetes. “I shall leave to-morrow,” he added. Whereupon the profoundest silence immediately ensued. “And I invite,” said the king, finishing, “all those who are now present to get ready to accompany me.”
+
+Smiling faces were now everywhere visible, with the exception of Monsieur, who seemed to retain his ill-humor. The different noblemen and ladies of the court thereupon defiled before the king, one after the other, in order to thank his majesty for the great honor which had been conferred upon them by the invitation. When it came to De Guiche’s turn, the king said, “Ah! M. de Guiche, I did not see you.”
+
+The comte bowed, and Madame turned pale. De Guiche was about to open his lips to express his thanks, when the king said, “Comte, this is the season for farming purposes in the country; I am sure your tenants in Normandy will be glad to see you.”
+
+The king, after this pitiless attack, turned his back on the poor comte, whose turn it was now to become pale; he advanced a few steps towards the king, forgetting that the king is never spoken to except in reply to questions addressed.
+
+“I have perhaps misunderstood your majesty,” he stammered out.
+
+The king turned his head slightly, and with a cold and stern glance, which plunged like a sword relentlessly into the hearts of those under disgrace, repeated, “I said retire to your estates,” allowing every syllable to fall slowly one by one.
+
+A cold perspiration bedewed the comte’s face, his hands convulsively opened, and his hat, which he held between his trembling fingers, fell to the ground. Louis sought his mother’s glance, as though to show her that he was master; he sought his brother’s triumphant look, as if to ask him if he were satisfied with the vengeance taken; and lastly, his eyes fell upon Madame; but the princess was laughing and smiling with Madame de Noailles. She heard nothing, or rather had pretended not to hear at all. The Chevalier de Lorraine looked on also, with one of those looks of fixed hostility that seemed to give to a man’s glance the power of a lever when it raises an obstacle, wrests it away, and casts it to a distance. M. de Guiche was left alone in the king’s cabinet, the whole of the company having departed. Shadows seemed to dance before his eyes. He suddenly broke through the settled despair that overwhelmed him, and flew to hide himself in his own room, where Raoul awaited him, immovable in his own sad presentiments.
+
+“Well?” he murmured, seeing his friend enter, bareheaded, with a wild gaze and tottering gait.
+
+“Yes, yes, it is true,” said De Guiche, unable to utter more, and falling exhausted upon the couch.
+
+“And she?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“She,” exclaimed his unhappy friend, as he raised his hand clenched in anger, towards Heaven. “She! -- ”
+
+“What did she say and do?”
+
+“She said that her dress suited her admirably, and then she laughed.”
+
+A fit of hysteric laughter seemed to shatter his nerves, for he fell backwards, completely overcome.
+
+Chapter XXXV. Fontainebleau.
+
+For four days, every kind of enchantment brought together in the magnificent gardens of Fontainebleau had converted this spot into a place of the most perfect enjoyment. M. Colbert seemed gifted with ubiquity. In the morning there were the accounts of the previous night’s expenses to settle; during the day, programmes, essays, enrolments, payments. M. Colbert had amassed four millions of francs, and dispersed them with sleepless economy. He was horrified at the expenses which mythology involved; not a wood nymph, nor a dryad, that cost less than a hundred francs a day! The dress alone amounted to three hundred francs. The expense of powder and sulphur for fireworks amounted, every night, to a hundred thousand francs. In addition to these, the illuminations on the borders of the sheet of water cost thirty thousand francs every evening. The fetes had been magnificent; and Colbert could not restrain his delight. From time to time, he noticed Madame and the king setting forth on hunting expeditions, or preparing for the reception of different fantastic personages, solemn ceremonials, which had been extemporized a fortnight before, and in which Madame’s sparkling wit and the king’s magnificence were equally well displayed.
+
+For Madame, the heroine of the fete, replied to the addresses of the deputations from unknown races -- Garamanths, Scythians, Hyperboreans, Caucasians, and Patagonians, who seemed to issue from the ground for the purpose of approaching her with their congratulations; and upon every representative of these races the king bestowed a diamond, or some other article of value. Then the deputies, in verses more or less amusing, compared the king to the sun, Madame to Phoebe, the sun’s sister, and the queen and Monsieur were no more spoken of than if the king had married Henrietta of England, and not Maria Theresa of Austria. The happy pair, hand in hand, imperceptibly pressing each other’s fingers, drank in deep draughts the sweet beverage of adulation, by which the attractions of youth, beauty, power and love are enhanced. Every one at Fontainebleau was amazed at the extent of the influence which Madame had so rapidly acquired over the king, and whispered among themselves that Madame was, in point of fact, the true queen; and in effect, the king himself proclaimed its truth by his every thought, word, and look. He formed his wishes, he drew his inspirations from Madame’s eyes, and his delight was unbounded when Madame deigned to smile upon him. And was Madame, on her side, intoxicated with the power she wielded, as she beheld every one at her feet? This was a question she herself could hardly answer; but what she did know was, that she could frame no wish, and that she felt herself to be perfectly happy. The result of all these changes, the source of which emanated from the royal will, was that Monsieur, instead of being the second person in the kingdom, had, in reality, become the third. And it was now far worse than in the time when De Guiche’s guitars were heard in Madame’s apartments; for, then, at least, Monsieur had the satisfaction of frightening those who annoyed him. Since the departure, however, of the enemy, who had been driven away by means of his alliance with the king, Monsieur had to submit to a burden, heavier, but in a very different sense, to his former one. Every evening Madame returned home quite exhausted. Horse-riding, bathing in the Seine, spectacles, dinners under the leafy covert of the trees, balls on the banks of the grand canal, concerts, etc., etc.; all this would have been sufficient to have killed, not a slight and delicate woman, but the strongest porter in the chateau. It is perfectly true that, with regard to dancing, concerts, and promenades, and such matters, a woman is far stronger than the most robust of porters. But, however great a woman’s strength may be, there is a limit to it, and she cannot hold out long under such a system. As for Monsieur, he had not even the satisfaction of witnessing Madame’s abdication of her royalty in the evening, for she lived in the royal pavilion with the young queen and the queen-mother. As a matter of course, the Chevalier de Lorraine did not quit Monsieur, and did not fail to distil drops of gall into every wound the latter received. The result was, that Monsieur -- who had at first been in the highest spirits, and completely restored since Guiche’s departure -- subsided into his melancholy state three days after the court was installed at Fontainebleau.
+
+It happened, however, that, one day, about two o’clock in the afternoon, Monsieur, who had risen late, and had bestowed upon his toilet more than his usual attention, -- it happened, we repeat, that Monsieur, who had not heard of any plans having been arranged for the day, formed the project of collecting his own court, and of carrying Madame off with him to Moret, where he possessed a charming country house. He accordingly went to the queen’s pavilion, and was astonished, on entering, to find none of the royal servants in attendance. Quite alone, therefore, he entered the rooms, a door on the left opening to Madame’s apartment, the one on the right to the young queen’s. In his wife’s apartment, Monsieur was informed, by a sempstress who was working there, that every one had left at eleven o’clock, for the purpose of bathing in the Seine, that a grand fete was to be made of the expedition, that all the carriages had been placed at the park gates, and that they had all set out more than an hour ago.
+
+“Very good,” said Monsieur, “the idea is a good one; the heat is very oppressive, and I have no objection to bathe, too.”
+
+He summoned his servants, but no one came. He summoned those in attendance on Madame, but everybody had gone out. He went to the stables, where he was informed by a groom that there were no carriages of any description. He desired that a couple of horses should be saddled, one for himself and the other for his valet. The groom told him that all the horses had been sent away. Monsieur, pale with anger, again descended towards the queen’s apartments, and penetrated as far as Anne of Austria’s oratory, where he perceived, through the half-opened tapestry-hangings, his young and beautiful sister on her knees before the queen-mother, who appeared weeping bitterly. He had not been either seen or heard. He cautiously approached the opening, and listened, the sight of so much grief having aroused his curiosity. Not only was the young queen weeping, but she was complaining also. “Yes,” she said, “the king neglects me, the king devotes himself to pleasures and amusements only, in which I have no share.”
+
+“Patience, patience, my daughter,” said Anne of Austria, in Spanish; and then, also in Spanish, added some words of advice, which Monsieur did not understand. The queen replied by accusations, mingled with sighs and sobs, among which Monsieur often distinguished the word banos, which Maria Theresa accentuated with spiteful anger.
+
+“The baths,” said Monsieur to himself; “it seems it is the baths that have put her out.” And he endeavored to put together the disconnected phrases which he had been able to understand. It was easy to guess that the queen was complaining bitterly, and that, if Anne of Austria did not console her, she at least endeavored to do so. Monsieur was afraid to be detected listening at the door and he therefore made up his mind to cough; the two queens turned round at the sound and Monsieur entered. At sight of the prince, the young queen rose precipitately, and dried her tears. Monsieur, however, knew the people he had to deal with too well, and was naturally too polite to remain silent, and he accordingly saluted them. The queen-mother smiled pleasantly at him, saying, “What do you want, Philip?”
+
+“I? -- nothing,” stammered Monsieur. “I was looking for -- ”
+
+“Whom?”
+
+“I was looking for Madame.”
+
+“Madame is at the baths.”
+
+“And the king?” said Monsieur, in a tone which made the queen tremble.
+
+“The king also, the whole court as well,” replied Anne of Austria.
+
+“Except you, madame,” said Monsieur.
+
+“Oh! I,” said the young queen, “I seem to terrify all those who amuse themselves.”
+
+“And so do I, -- judging from appearances,” rejoined Monsieur.
+
+Anne of Austria made a sigh to her daughter-in-law, who withdrew, weeping.
+
+Monsieur’s brows contracted, as he remarked aloud, “What a cheerless house. What do you think of it, mother?”
+
+“Why, no; everybody here is pleasure-hunting.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, that is the very thing that makes those dull who do not care for pleasure.”
+
+“In what a tone you say that, Philip.”
+
+“Upon my word, madame, I speak as I think.”
+
+“Explain yourself; what is the matter?”
+
+“Ask my sister-in-law, rather, who, just now, was detailing all her grievances to you.”
+
+“Her grievances, what -- ”
+
+“Yes, I was listening; accidentally, I confess, but still I listened -- so that I heard only too well my sister complain of those famous baths of Madame -- ”
+
+“Ah! folly!”
+
+“No, no, no; people are not always foolish when they weep. The queen said banos, which means baths.”
+
+“I repeat, Philip,” said Anne of Austria, “that your sister is childishly jealous.”
+
+“In that case, madame,” replied the prince, “I, too, must with great humility accuse myself of possessing the same defect.”
+
+“You also, Philip?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Are you really jealous of these baths?”
+
+“And why not, madame, when the king goes to the baths with my wife, and does not take the queen? Why not, when Madame goes to the baths with the king, and does not do me the honor to even invite me? And you enjoin my sister-in-law to be satisfied, and require me to be satisfied, too.”
+
+“You are raving, my dear Philip,” said Anne of Austria; “you have driven the Duke of Buckingham away; you have been the cause of M. de Guiche’s exile; do you now wish to send the king away from Fontainebleau?”
+
+“I do not pretend to anything of the kind, madame,” said Monsieur, bitterly; “but, at least, I can withdraw, and I shall do so.”
+
+“Jealous of the king -- jealous of your brother?”
+
+“Yes, madame, I am jealous of the king -- of my own brother, and remarkably jealous, too.”
+
+“Really, Monsieur,” exclaimed Anne of Austria, affecting to be indignant, “I begin to believe you are mad, and a sworn enemy to my repose. I therefore abandon the place to you, for I have no means of defending myself against such monomanias.”
+
+She arose and left Monsieur a prey to the most extravagant transport of passion. He remained for a moment completely bewildered; then, recovering himself, again went to the stables, found the groom, once more asked him for a carriage or a horse, and upon his reply that there was neither the one or the other, Monsieur snatched a long whip from the hand of a stable-boy, and began to pursue the poor devil of a groom all round the servants’ courtyard, whipping him the while, in spite of his cries and excuses; then, quite out of breath, covered with perspiration, and trembling in every limb, he returned to his own apartments, broke in pieces some beautiful specimens of porcelain, and then got into bed, booted and spurred as he was, crying out for some one to come to him. [4]
+
+Chapter XXXVI. The Bath.
+
+At Vulaines, beneath the impenetrable shade of flowering osiers and willows, which, as they bent down their green heads, dipped the extremities of their branches in the blue waters, a long and flat-bottomed boat, with ladders covered with long blue curtains, served as a refuge for the bathing Dianas, who, as they left the water, were watched by twenty plumed Acteons, who, eagerly, and full of admiration, galloped up and down the flowery banks of the river. But Diana herself, even the chaste Diana, clothed in her long chlamys, was less beautiful -- less impenetrable, than Madame, as young and beautiful as that goddess herself. For, notwithstanding the fine tunic of the huntress, her round and delicate knee can be seen; and notwithstanding the sonorous quiver, her brown shoulders can be detected; whereas, in Madame’s case, a long white veil enveloped her, wrapping her round and round a hundred times, as she resigned herself into the hands of her female attendants, and thus was rendered inaccessible to the most indiscreet, as well as to the most penetrating gaze. When she ascended the ladder, the poets were present -- and all were poets when Madame was the subject of discussion -- the twenty poets who were galloping about, stopped, and with one voice, exclaimed that pearls, and not drops of water, were falling from her person, to be lost again in the happy river. The king, the center of these effusions, and of this respectful homage, imposed silence upon those expatiators, for whom it seemed impossible to exhaust their raptures, and he rode away, for fear of offending, even through the silken curtains, the modesty of the woman and the dignity of the princess. A great blank thereupon ensued in the scene, and perfect silence in the boat. From the movements on board -- from the flutterings and agitations of the curtains -- the goings to and fro of the female attendants engaged in their duties, could be guessed.
+
+The king smilingly listened to the conversation of the courtiers around him, but it could easily be perceived that he gave but little, if any, attention to their remarks. In fact, hardly had the sound of the rings drawn along the curtain-rods announced that Madame was dressed, and that the goddess was about to make her reappearance, than the king, returning to his former post immediately, and running quite close to the river-bank, gave the signal for all those to approach whose duty or pleasure summoned them to Madame’s side. The pages hurried forward, conducting the led horses; the carriages, which had remained sheltered under the trees, advanced towards the tent, followed by a crowd of servants, bearers, and female attendants, who, while their masters had been bathing, had mutually exchanged their own observations, critical remarks, and the discussion of matters personal -- the fugitive journal of that period, of which no one now remembers anything, not even by the waves, the witnesses of what went on that day -- themselves now sublimed into immensity, as the actors have vanished into eternity.
+
+A crowd of people swarming upon the banks of the river, without reckoning the groups of peasants drawn together by their anxiety to see the king and the princess, was, for many minutes, the most disorderly, but the most agreeable, mob imaginable. The king dismounted from his horse, a movement which was imitated by all the courtiers, and offered his hat to Madame, whose rich riding-habit displayed her fine figure, which was set off to great advantage by that garment, made of fine woolen cloth embroidered with silver. Her hair, still damp and blacker than jet, hung in heavy masses upon her white and delicate neck. Joy and health sparkled in her beautiful eyes; composed, yet full of energy, she inhaled the air in deep draughts, under a lace parasol, which was borne by one of her pages. Nothing could be more charming, more graceful, more poetical, than these two figures buried under the rose-colored shade of the parasol, the king, whose white teeth were displayed in continual smiles, and Madame, whose black eyes sparkled like carbuncles in the glittering reflection of the changing hues of the silk. When Madame approached her horse, a magnificent animal of Andalusian breed, of spotless white, somewhat heavy, perhaps, but with a spirited and splendid head, in which the mixture, happily combined, of Arabian and Spanish blood could be readily traced, and whose long tail swept the ground; and as the princess affected difficulty in mounting, the king took her in his arms in such a manner that Madame’s arm was clasped like a circlet of alabaster around the king’s neck. Louis, as he withdrew, involuntarily touched with his lips the arm, which was not withheld, and the princess having thanked her royal equerry, every one sprang to his saddle at the same moment. The king and Madame drew aside to allow the carriages, the outriders, and runners, to pass by. A fair proportion of the cavaliers, released from the restraint etiquette had imposed upon them, gave the rein to their horses, and darted after the carriages which bore the maids of honor, as blooming as so many virgin huntresses around Diana, and the human whirlwind, laughing, chattering, and noisy, passed onward.
+
+The king and Madame, however, kept their horses in hand at a foot-pace. Behind his majesty and his sister-in-law, certain of the courtiers -- those, at least, who were seriously disposed or were anxious to be within reach, or under the eyes, of the king -- followed at a respectful distance, restraining their impatient horses, regulating their pace by that of the king and Madame, and abandoned themselves to all the delight and gratification which is to be found in the conversation of clever people, who can, with perfect courtesy, make a thousand atrocious, but laughable remarks about their neighbors. In their stifled laughter, and in the little reticences of their sardonic humor, Monsieur, the poor absentee, was not spared. But they pitied, and bewailed greatly, the fate of De Guiche, and it must be confessed that their compassion, as far as he was concerned, was not misplaced. The king and Madame having breathed the horses, and repeated a hundred times over such remarks as the courtiers, who supplied them with talk, suggested to them, set off at a hand gallop, and the leafy coverts of the forest resounded to the footfalls of the mounted party. To the conversations beneath the shade of the trees, -- to remarks made in the shape of confidential communications, and observations, mysteriously exchanged, succeeded the noisiest bursts of laughter; -- from the very outriders to royalty itself, merriment seemed to spread. Every one began to laugh and to cry out. The magpies and the jays fluttered away uttering their guttural cries, beneath the waving avenues of oaks; the cuckoo staid his monotonous cry in the recesses of the forest; the chaffinch and tomtit flew away in clouds; while the terrified deer bounded riverwards from the midst of the thickets. This crowd, spreading joy, confusion, and light wherever it passed, was heralded, it may be said, to the chateau by its own clamor. As the king and Madame entered the village, they were received by the acclamations of the crowd. Madame hastened to look for Monsieur, for she instinctively understood that he had been far too long kept from sharing in this joy. The king went to rejoin the queens; he knew he owed them -- one especially -- a compensation for his long absence. But Madame was not admitted to Monsieur’s apartments, and she was informed that Monsieur was asleep. The king, instead of being met by Maria Theresa smiling, as was usual with her, found Anne of Austria in the gallery watching for his return, who advanced to meet him, and taking him by the hand, led him to her own apartment. No one ever knew what was the nature of the conversation which took place between them, or rather what it was that the queen-mother said to Louis XIV.; but the general tenor of the interview might certainly be guessed from the annoyed expression of the king’s face as he left her.
+
+But we, whose mission it is to interpret all things, as it is also to communicate our interpretations to our readers, -- we should fail in our duty, if we were to leave them in ignorance of the result of this interview. It will be found sufficiently detailed, at least we hope so, in the following chapter.
+
+Chapter XXXVII. The Butterfly-Chase.
+
+The king, on retiring to his apartments to give some directions and to arrange his ideas, found on his toilette-glass a small note, the handwriting of which seemed disguised. He opened it and read -- “Come quickly, I have a thousand things to say to you.” The king and Madame had not been separated a sufficiently long time for these thousand things to be the result of the three thousand which they had been saying to each other during the route which separated Vulaines from Fontainebleau. The confused and hurried character of the note gave the king a great deal to reflect upon. He occupied himself but slightly with his toilette, and set off to pay his visit to Madame. The princess, who did not wish to have the appearance of expecting him, had gone into the gardens with the ladies of her suite. When the king was informed that Madame had left her apartments and had gone for a walk in the gardens, he collected all the gentlemen he could find, and invited them to follow him. He found Madame engaged in chasing butterflies, on a large lawn bordered with heliotrope and flowering broom. She was looking on as the most adventurous and youngest of her ladies ran to and fro, and with her back turned to a high hedge, very impatiently awaited the arrival of the king, with whom she had appointed the rendezvous. The sound of many feet upon the gravel walk made her turn round. Louis XIV. was hatless, he had struck down with his cane a peacock butterfly, which Monsieur de Saint-Aignan had picked up from the ground quite stunned.
+
+“You see, Madame,” said the king, as he approached her, “that I, too, am hunting on your behalf!” and then, turning towards those who had accompanied him, said, “Gentlemen, see if each of you cannot obtain as much for these ladies,” a remark which was a signal for all to retire. And thereupon a curious spectacle might have been observed; old and corpulent courtiers were seen running after butterflies, losing their hats as they ran, and with their raised canes cutting down the myrtles and the furze, as they would have done the Spaniards.
+
+The king offered Madame his arm, and they both selected, as the center of observation, a bench with a roof of boards and moss, a kind of hut roughly designed by the modest genius of one of the gardeners who had inaugurated the picturesque and fanciful amid the formal style of the gardening of that period. This sheltered retreat, covered with nasturtiums and climbing roses, screened the bench, so that the spectators, insulated in the middle of the lawn, saw and were seen on every side, but could not be heard, without perceiving those who might approach for the purpose of listening. Seated thus, the king made a sign of encouragement to those who were running about; and then, as if he were engaged with Madame in a dissertation upon the butterfly, which he had thrust through with a gold pin and fastened on his hat, said to her, “How admirably we are placed here for conversations.”
+
+“Yes, sire, for I wished to be heard by you alone, and yet to be seen by every one.”
+
+“And I also,” said Louis.
+
+“My note surprised you?”
+
+“Terrified me rather. But what I have to tell you is more important.”
+
+“It cannot be, sire. Do you know that Monsieur refuses to see me?”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Can you not guess why?”
+
+“Ah, Madame! in that case we have both the same thing to say to each other.”
+
+“What has happened to you, then?”
+
+“You wish me to begin?”
+
+“Yes, for I have told you all.”
+
+“Well, then, as soon as I returned, I found my mother waiting for me, and she led me away to her own apartments.”
+
+“The queen-mother?” said Madame, with some anxiety, “the matter is serious then.”
+
+“Indeed it is, for she told me... but, in the first place, allow me to preface what I have to say with one remark. Has Monsieur ever spoken to you about me?”
+
+“Often.”
+
+“Has he ever spoken to you about his jealousy?”
+
+“More frequently still.”
+
+“Of his jealousy of me?”
+
+“No, but of the Duke of Buckingham and De Guiche.”
+
+“Well, Madame, Monsieur’s present idea is a jealousy of myself.”
+
+“Really,” replied the princess, smiling archly.
+
+“And it really seems to me,” continued the king, “that we have never given any ground -- ”
+
+“Never! at least I have not. But who told you that Monsieur was jealous?”
+
+“My mother represented to me that Monsieur entered her apartments like a madman, that he uttered a thousand complaints against you, and -- forgive me for saying it -- against your coquetry. It appears that Monsieur indulges in injustice, too.”
+
+“You are very kind, sire.”
+
+“My mother reassured him; but he pretended that people reassure him too often, and that he had had quite enough of it.”
+
+“Would it not be better for him not to make himself uneasy in any way?”
+
+“The very thing I said.”
+
+“Confess, sire, that the world is very wicked. Is it possible that a brother and sister cannot converse together, or take pleasure in each other’s company, without giving rise to remarks and suspicions? For indeed, sire, we are doing no harm, and have no intention of doing any.” And she looked at the king with that proud yet provoking glance that kindles desire in the coldest and wisest of men.
+
+“No!” sighed the king, “that is true.”
+
+“You know very well, sire, that if it were to continue, I should be obliged to make a disturbance. Do you decide upon our conduct, and say whether it has, or has not, been perfectly correct.”
+
+“Oh, certainly -- perfectly correct.”
+
+“Often alone together, -- for we delight in the same things, -- we might possibly be led away into error, but have we been? I regard you as a brother, and nothing more.”
+
+The king frowned. She continued:
+
+“Your hand, which often meets my own, does not excite in me that agitation and emotion which is the case with those who love each other, for instance -- ”
+
+“Enough,” said the king, “enough, I entreat you. You have no pity -- you are killing me.”
+
+“What is the matter?”
+
+“In fact, then, you distinctly say you experience nothing when near me.”
+
+“Oh, sire! I don’t say that -- my affection -- ”
+
+“Enough, Henrietta, I again entreat you. If you believe me to be marble, as you are, undeceive yourself.”
+
+“I do not understand you, sire.”
+
+“Very well,” said the king, casting down his eyes. “And so our meetings, the pressure of each other’s hand, the looks we have exchanged -- Yes, yes; you are right, and I understand your meaning,” and he buried his face in his hands.
+
+“Take care, sire,” said Madame, hurriedly, “Monsieur de Saint-Aignan is looking at you.”
+
+“Of course,” said Louis, angrily; “never even the shadow of liberty! never any sincerity in my intercourse with any one! I imagine I have found a friend, who is nothing but a spy; a dearer friend, who is only a -- sister!”
+
+Madame was silent, and cast down her eyes.
+
+“My husband is jealous,” she murmured, in a tone of which nothing could equal its sweetness and charm.
+
+“You are right,” exclaimed the king, suddenly.
+
+“You see,” she said, looking at him in a manner that set his heart on fire, “you are free, you are not suspected, the peace of your house is not disturbed.”
+
+“Alas,” said the king, “as yet you know nothing, for the queen is jealous.”
+
+“Maria Theresa!”
+
+“Stark mad with jealousy! Monsieur’s jealousy arises from hers; she was weeping and complaining to my mother, and was reproaching us for those bathing parties, which have made me so happy.”
+
+“And me too,” answered Madame, by a look.
+
+“When, suddenly,” continued the king, “Monsieur, who was listening, heard the word ‘banos,’ which the queen pronounced with some degree of bitterness, that awakened his attention; he entered the room, looking quite wild, broke into the conversation, and began to quarrel with my mother so bitterly that she was obliged to leave him; so that, while you have a jealous husband to deal with, I shall have perpetually present before me a specter of jealousy with swollen eyes, a cadaverous face, and sinister looks.”
+
+“Poor king,” murmured Madame, as she lightly touched the king’s hand. He retained her hand in his, and in order to press it without exciting suspicion in the spectators, who were not so much taken up with the butterflies that they could not occupy themselves about other matters, and who perceived clearly enough that there was some mystery in the king’s and Madame’s conversation, Louis placed the dying butterfly before his sister-in-law, and bent over it as if to count the thousand eyes of its wings, or the particles of golden dust which covered it. Neither of them spoke; however, their hair mingled, their breaths united, and their hands feverishly throbbed in each other’s grasp. Five minutes passed in this manner.
+
+Chapter XXXVIII. What Was Caught after the Butterflies.
+
+The two young people remained for a moment with their heads bent down, bowed, as it were, beneath the double thought of the love which was springing up in their hearts, and which gives birth to so many happy fancies in the imaginations of twenty years of age. Henrietta gave a side glance, from time to time, at the king. Hers was one of those finely-organized natures capable of looking inwardly at itself, as well as at others at the same moment. She perceived Love lying at the bottom of Louis’s heart, as a skillful diver sees a pearl at the bottom of the sea. She knew Louis was hesitating, if not in doubt, and that his indolent or timid heart required aid and encouragement. “And so?” she said, interrogatively, breaking the silence.
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired Louis, after a moment’s pause.
+
+“I mean, that I shall be obliged to return to the resolution I had formed.”
+
+“To what resolution?”
+
+“To that which I have already submitted to your majesty.”
+
+“When?”
+
+“On the very day we had a certain explanation about Monsieur’s jealousies.”
+
+“What did you say to me then?” inquired Louis, with some anxiety.
+
+“Do you not remember, sire?”
+
+“Alas! if it be another cause of unhappiness, I shall recollect it soon enough.”
+
+“A cause of unhappiness for myself alone, sire,” replied Madame Henrietta; “but as it is necessary, I must submit to it.”
+
+“At least, tell me what it is,” said the king.
+
+“Absence.”
+
+“Still that unkind resolve?”
+
+“Believe me, sire, I have not found it without a violent struggle with myself; it is absolutely necessary I should return to England.”
+
+“Never, never will I permit you to leave France,” exclaimed the king.
+
+“And yet, sire,” said Madame, affecting a gentle yet sorrowful determination, “nothing is more urgently necessary; nay, more than that, I am persuaded it is your mother’s desire I should do so.”
+
+“Desire!” exclaimed the king; “that is a very strange expression to use to me.”
+
+“Still,” replied Madame Henrietta, smilingly, “are you not happy in submitting to the wishes of so good a mother?”
+
+“Enough, I implore you; you rend my very soul.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes; for you speak of your departure with tranquillity.”
+
+“I was not born for happiness, sire,” replied the princess, dejectedly; “and I acquired, in very early life, the habit of seeing my dearest wishes disappointed.”
+
+“Do you speak truly?” said the king. “Would your departure gainsay any one of your cherished thoughts?”
+
+“If I were to say ‘yes,’ would you begin to take your misfortune patiently?”
+
+“How cruel you are!”
+
+“Take care, sire; some one is coming.”
+
+The king looked all round him, and said, “No, there is no one,” and then continued: “Come, Henrietta, instead of trying to contend against Monsieur’s jealousy by a departure which would kill me -- ”
+
+Henrietta slightly shrugged her shoulders like a woman unconvinced. “Yes,” repeated Louis, “which would kill me, I say. Instead of fixing your mind on this departure, does not your imagination -- or rather does not your heart -- suggest some expedient?”
+
+“What is it you wish my heart to suggest?”
+
+“Tell me, how can one prove to another that it is wrong to be jealous?”
+
+“In the first place, sire, by giving no motive for jealousy; in other words, in loving no one but the person in question.”
+
+“Oh! I expected more than that.”
+
+“What did you expect?”
+
+“That you would simply tell me that jealous people are pacified by concealing the affection which is entertained for the object of jealousy.”
+
+“Dissimulation is difficult, sire.”
+
+“Yet it is only be means of conquering difficulties that any happiness is attained. As far as I am concerned, I swear I will give the lie to those who are jealous of me by pretending to treat you like any other woman.”
+
+“A bad, as well as unsafe, means,” said the young princess, shaking her pretty head.
+
+“You seem to think everything bad, dear Henrietta,” said Louis, discontentedly. “You negative everything I propose. Suggest, at least, something else in its stead. Come, try and think. I trust implicitly to a woman’s invention. Do you invent in your turn?”
+
+“Well, sire, I have hit upon something. Will you listen to it?”
+
+“Can you ask me? You speak of a matter of life or death to me, and then ask if I will listen.”
+
+“Well, I judge of it by my own case. If my husband intended to put me on the wrong scent with regard to another woman, one thing would reassure me more than anything else.”
+
+“What would that be?”
+
+“In the first place to see that he never took any notice of the woman in question.”
+
+“Exactly. That is precisely what I said just now.”
+
+“Very well; but in order to be perfectly reassured on the subject, I should like to see him occupy himself with some one else.”
+
+“Ah! I understand you,” replied Louis, smiling. “But confess, dear Henrietta, if the means is at least ingenious, it is hardly charitable.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“In curing the dread of a wound in a jealous person’s mind, you inflict one upon the heart. His fear ceases, it is true; but the evil still exists; and that seems to me to be far worse.”
+
+“Agreed; but he does not detect, he does not suspect the real enemy; he does no prejudice to love itself; he concentrates all his strength on the side where his strength will do no injury to anything or any one. In a word, sire, my plan, which I confess I am surprised to find you dispute, is mischievous to jealous people, it is true; but to lovers it is full of advantage. Besides, let me ask, sire, who, except yourself, has ever thought of pitying jealous people? Are they not a melancholy crew of grumblers always equally unhappy, whether with or without a cause? You may remove that cause, but you never can remove their sufferings. It is a disease which lies in the imagination, and, like all imaginary disorders, it is incurable. By the by, I remember an aphorism upon this subject, of poor Dr. Dawley, a clever and amusing man, who, had it not been for my brother, who could not do without him, I should have with me now. He used to say, ‘Whenever you are likely to suffer from two affections, choose that which will give you the least trouble, and I will allow you to retain it; for it is positive,’ he said, ‘that that very ailment is of the greatest service to me, in order to enable me to get rid of the other.’”
+
+“Well and judiciously remarked, Henrietta,” replied the king, smiling.
+
+“Oh! we have some clever people in London, sire.”
+
+“And those clever people produce adorable pupils. I will grant this Daley, Darley, Dawley, or whatever you call him, a pension for his aphorism; but I entreat you, Henrietta, to begin by choosing the least of your evils. You do not answer -- you smile. I guess that the least of your bugbears is your stay in France. I will allow you to retain this information; and, in order to begin with the cure of the other, I will this very day begin to look out for a subject which shall divert the attention of the jealous members of either sex who persecute us both.”
+
+“Hush! this time some one is really coming,” said Madame; and she stooped to gather a flower from the thick grass at her feet. Some one, in fact, was approaching; for, suddenly, a bevy of young girls ran down from the top of the hillock, following the cavaliers -- the cause of this interruption being a magnificent hawk-moth, with wings like rose-leaves. The prey in question had fallen into the net of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who displayed it with some pride to her less successful rivals. The queen of the chase had seated herself some twenty paces from the bank on which Louis and Madame Henrietta were reclining; and leaned her back against a magnificent oak-tree entwined with ivy, and stuck the butterfly on the long cane she carried in her hand. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was very beautiful, and the gentlemen, accordingly, deserted her companions, and under the pretext of complimenting her upon her success, pressed in a circle around her. The king and princess looked gloomily at this scene, as spectators of maturer age look on at the games of little children. “They seem to be amusing themselves there,” said the king.
+
+“Greatly, sire; I have always found that people are amused wherever youth and beauty are to be found.”
+
+“What do you think of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, Henrietta?” inquired the king.
+
+“I think she has rather too much flax-yellow and lily-whiteness in her complexion,” replied Madame, fixing in a moment upon the only fault it was possible to find in the almost perfect beauty of the future Madame de Montespan.”
+
+“Rather too fair, yes; but beautiful, I think, in spite of that.”
+
+“Is that your opinion, sire?”
+
+“Yes, really.”
+
+“Very well; and it is mine, too.”
+
+“And she seems to be much sought after.”
+
+“On, that is a matter of course. Lovers flutter from one to another. If we had hunted for lovers instead of butterflies, you can see, from those who surround her, what successful sport we should have had.”
+
+“Tell me, Henrietta, what would be said if the king were to make himself one of those lovers, and let his glance fall in that direction? Would some one else be jealous, in such a case?”
+
+“Oh! sire, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is a very efficacious remedy,” said Madame, with a sigh. “She would cure a jealous man, certainly; but she might possibly make a woman jealous, too.”
+
+“Henrietta,” exclaimed Louis, “you fill my heart with joy. Yes, yes; Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is far too beautiful to serve as a cloak.”
+
+“A king’s cloak,” said Madame Henrietta, smiling, “ought to be beautiful.”
+
+“Do you advise me to do it, then?” inquired Louis.
+
+“I! what should I say, sire, except that to give such an advice would be to supply arms against myself? It would be folly or pride to advise you to take, for the heroine of an assumed affection, a woman more beautiful than the one for whom you pretend to feel real regard.”
+
+The king tried to take Madame’s hand in his own; his eyes sought hers; and then he murmured a few words so full of tenderness, but pronounced in so low a tone, that the historian, who ought to hear everything, could not hear them. Then, speaking aloud, he said, “Do you yourself choose for me the one who is to cure our jealous friend. To her, then, all my devotion, all my attention, all the time that I can spare from my occupations, shall be devoted. For her shall be the flower that I may pluck for you, the fond thoughts with which you have inspired me. Towards her I will direct the glance I dare not bestow upon you, and which ought to be able to rouse you from your indifference. But, be careful in your selection, lest, in offering her the rose which I may have plucked, I find myself conquered by you; and my looks, my hand, my lips, turn immediately towards you, even were the whole world to guess my secret.”
+
+While these words escaped from the king’s lips, in a stream of wild affection, Madame blushed, breathless, happy, proud, almost intoxicated with delight. She could find nothing to say in reply; her pride and her thirst for homage were satisfied. “I shall fail,” she said, raising her beautiful black eyes, “but not as you beg me, for all this incense which you wish to burn on the altar of another divinity. Ah! sire, I too shall be jealous of it, and want restored to me; and would not that a particle of it should be lost in the way. Therefore, sire, with your royal permission, I will choose one who shall appear to me the least likely to distract your attention, and who will leave my image intact and unshadowed in your heart.”
+
+“Happily for me,” said the king, “your heart is not hard and unfeeling. If it were so, I should be alarmed at the threat you hold out. Precautions were taken on this point, and around you, as around myself, it would be difficult to meet with a disagreeable-looking face.”
+
+Whilst the king was speaking, Madame had risen from her seat, looked around the greensward, and after a careful and silent examination, she called the king to her side, and said, “See yonder, sire, upon the declivity of that little hill, near that group of Guelder roses, that beautiful girl walking alone, her head down, her arms hanging by her side, with her eyes fixed upon the flowers, which she crushes beneath her feet, like one who is lost in thought.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Valliere, do you mean?” remarked the king.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Oh!”
+
+“Will she not suit you, sire?”
+
+“Why, look how thin the poor child is. She has hardly any flesh upon her bones.”
+
+“Nay: am I stout then?”
+
+“She is so melancholy.”
+
+“The greater contrast to myself, who am accused of being too lively.”
+
+“She is lame.”
+
+“Do you really think so?”
+
+“No doubt of it. Look; she has allowed every one to pass by her, through fear of her defect being remarked.”
+
+“Well, she will not run so fast as Daphne, and will not be as able to escape Apollo.”
+
+“Henrietta,” said the king, out of temper; “of all your maids of honor, you have really selected for me the one most full of defects.”
+
+“Still she is one of my maids of honor.”
+
+“Of course; but what do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that, in order to visit this new divinity, you will not be able to do so without paying a visit to my apartments, and that, as propriety will forbid your conversing with her in private, you will be compelled to see her in my circle, to speak, as it were, at me, while speaking to her. I mean, in fact, that those who may be jealous, will be wrong if they suppose you come to my apartments for my sake, since you will go there for Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Who happens to be lame.”
+
+“Hardly that.”
+
+“Who never opens her lips.”
+
+“But who, when she does open them, displays a beautiful set of teeth.”
+
+“Who may serve as a model for an osteologist.”
+
+“Your favor will change her appearance.”
+
+“Henrietta!”
+
+“At all events you allowed me to choose.”
+
+“Alas! yes.”
+
+“Well, my choice is made: I impose her upon you, and you must submit.”
+
+“Oh! I would accept one of the furies, if you were to insist upon it.”
+
+“La Valliere is as gentle as a lamb: do not fear she will ever contradict you when you tell her you love her,” said Madame, laughing.
+
+“You are not afraid, are you, that I shall say too much to her?”
+
+“It would be for my sake.”
+
+“The treaty is agreed to, then?”
+
+“Not only so, but signed. You will continue to show me the friendship of a brother, the attention of a brother, the gallantry of a monarch, will you not?”
+
+“I will preserve for you intact a heart that has already become accustomed to beat only at your command.”
+
+“Very well, do you not see that we have guaranteed the future by this means?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“Will your mother cease to regard me as an enemy?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Will Maria Theresa leave off speaking in Spanish before Monsieur, who has a horror of conversation held in foreign languages, because he always thinks he is being ill spoken of? and lastly,” continued the princess, “will people persist in attributing a wrongful affection to the king when the truth is, we can offer nothing to each other, except absolute sympathy, free from mental reservation?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the king, hesitatingly. “But other things may still be said of us.”
+
+“What can be said, sire? shall we never be left in tranquillity?”
+
+“People will say I am deficient in taste; but what is my self-respect in comparison with your tranquillity?”
+
+“In comparison with my honor, sire, and that of our family, you mean. Besides, I beg you to attend, do not be so hastily prejudiced against La Valliere. She is slightly lame, it is true, but she is not deficient in good sense. Moreover, all that the king touches is converted into gold.”
+
+“Well, Madame, rest assured of one thing, namely, that I am still grateful to you: you might even yet make me pay dearer for your stay in France.”
+
+“Sire, some one approaches.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“One last word.”
+
+“Say it.”
+
+“You are prudent and judicious, sire; but in the present instance you will be obliged to summon to your aid all your prudence, and all your judgment.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Louis, laughing, “from this very day I shall begin to act my part, and you shall see whether I am not quite fit to represent the character of a tender swain. After luncheon, there will be a promenade in the forest, and then there is supper and the ballet at ten o’clock.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“The ardor of my passion shall blaze more brilliantly than the fireworks, shall shine more steadily than our friend Colbert’s lamps; it shall shine so dazzlingly that the queens and Monsieur will be almost blinded by it.”
+
+“Take care, sire, take care.”
+
+“In Heaven’s name, what have I done, then?”
+
+“I shall begin to recall the compliments I paid you just now. You prudent! you wise! did I say? Why, you begin by the most reckless inconsistencies! Can a passion be kindled in this manner, like a torch, in a moment? Can a monarch, such as you are, without any preparation, fall at the feet of a girl like La Valliere?”
+
+“Ah! Henrietta, now I understand you. We have not yet begun the campaign, and you are plundering me already.”
+
+“No, I am only recalling you to common-sense ideas. Let your passion be kindled gradually, instead of allowing it to burst forth so suddenly. Jove’s thunders and lightnings are heard and seen before the palace is set on fire. Everything has its commencements. If you are so easily excited, no one will believe you are really captivated, and every one will think you out of your senses -- if even, indeed, the truth itself not be guessed. The public is not so fatuous as they seem.”
+
+The king was obliged to admit that Madame was an angel for sense, and the very reverse for cleverness. He bowed, and said: “Agreed, Madame, I will think over my plan of attack: great military men -- my cousin De Conde for instance -- grow pale in meditation upon their strategical plans, before they move one of the pawns, which people call armies; I therefore wish to draw up a complete plan of campaign; for you know that the tender passion is subdivided in a variety of ways. Well, then, I shall stop at the village of Little Attentions, at the hamlet of Love-Letters, before I follow the road of Visible Affection; the way is clear enough, you know, and poor Madame de Scudery would never forgive me for passing though a halting-place without stopping.”
+
+“Oh! now we have returned to our proper senses, shall we say adieu, sire?”
+
+“Alas! it must be so, for see, we are interrupted.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said Henrietta, “they are bringing Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and her sphinx butterfly in grand procession this way.”
+
+“It is perfectly well understood, that this evening, during the promenade, I am to make my escape into the forest, and find La Valliere without you.”
+
+“I will take care to send her away.”
+
+“Very well! I will speak to her when she is with her companions, and I will then discharge my first arrow at her.”
+
+“Be skillful,” said Madame, laughing, “and do not miss the heart.”
+
+Then the princess took leave of the king, and went forward to meet the merry troop, which was advancing with much ceremony, and a great many pretended flourishes of trumpets, imitated with their mouths.
+
+Chapter XXXIX. The Ballet of the Seasons.
+
+At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o’clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing Spring, which was the result of so much imagination, and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament-workers of the court. As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise. Hardly, therefore, had he finished his conference, and entered his own apartment, than he desired his two masters of the ceremonies, Villeroy and Saint-Aignan, to be sent for. Both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window; the pale-gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters; the swans themselves, even, reposing with folded wings like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. The king, having observed all these things, and contemplated the magnificent picture before him, gave the order which De Villeroy and De Saint-Aignan awaited; but with a view of insuring the execution of this order in a royal manner, one last question was necessary, and Louis XIV. put it to the two gentlemen in the following manner: -- “Have you any money?”
+
+“Sire,” replied Saint-Aignan, “we have arranged everything with M. Colbert.”
+
+“Ah! very well!”
+
+“Yes, sire, and M. Colbert said he would wait upon your majesty, as soon as your majesty should manifest an intention of carrying out the fetes, of which he has furnished the programme.”
+
+“Let him come in, then,” said the king; and as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself au courant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers.
+
+“Ah! M. Colbert,” said the king. “Gentlemen, to your posts,” whereupon Saint-Aignan and Villeroy took their leave. The king seated himself in an easy-chair near the window, saying: “The ballet will take place this evening, M. Colbert.”
+
+“In that case, sire, I will pay all accounts to-morrow.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“I promised the tradespeople to pay their bills the day following that on which the ballet should take place.”
+
+“Very well, M. Colbert, pay them, since you have promised to do so.”
+
+“Certainly, sire; but I must have money to do that.”
+
+“What! have not the four millions, which M. Fouquet promised, been sent? I forgot to ask you about it.”
+
+“Sire, they were sent at the hour promised.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks, have swallowed up four millions in eight days.”
+
+“Entirely?”
+
+“To the last penny. Every time your majesty directed the banks of the grand canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins.”
+
+“Well, well, M. Colbert; the fact is, then, you have no more money?”
+
+“I have no more, sire, but M. Fouquet has,” Colbert replied, his face darkening with a sinister expression of pleasure.
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired Louis.
+
+“We have already made M. Fouquet advance six millions. He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply.”
+
+The king frowned. “M. Colbert,” said he, accentuating the financier’s name, “that is not the way I understood the matter; I do not wish to make use, against any of my servants, of a means of pressure which may oppress him and fetter his services. In eight days M. Fouquet has furnished six millions; that is a good round sum.”
+
+Colbert turned pale. “And yet,” he said, “your majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle-Isle arrived, for instance.”
+
+“You are right, M. Colbert.”
+
+“Nothing, however, has changed since then; on the contrary, indeed.”
+
+“In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed.”
+
+“Does your majesty then no longer believe the disloyal attempt?”
+
+“My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur; and I have already told you I transact them without interference.”
+
+“Then, I perceive,” said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, “that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty.”
+
+“Not at all; you are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me.”
+
+“Yet, sire,” said the minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Louis’s self-esteem, “what use is there in being agreeable to your majesty, if one can no longer be of any use?”
+
+“I reserve your services for a better occasion; and believe me, they will only be the better appreciated.”
+
+“Your majesty’s plan, then, in this affair, is -- ”
+
+“You want money, M. Colbert?”
+
+“Seven hundred thousand francs, sire.”
+
+“You will take them from my private treasure.” Colbert bowed. “And,” added Louis, “as it seems a difficult matter for you, notwithstanding your economy, to defray, with so limited a sum, the expenses which I intend to incur, I will at once sign an order for three millions.”
+
+The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. “Be satisfied, M. Colbert, the plan I have adopted is one worthy of a king,” said Louis XIV., who pronounced these words with all the majesty he knew how to assume in such circumstances; and dismissed Colbert for the purpose of giving an audience to his tailors.
+
+The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau; it was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning; during its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition. At the same moment, as if by enchantment, every one who knew how to hold a needle, every one who could distinguish a coat from a pair of trousers, was summoned to the assistance of those who had received invitations. The king had completed his toilette by nine o’clock; he appeared in an open carriage decorated with branches of trees and flowers. The queens had taken their seats upon a magnificent dias or platform, erected upon the borders of the lake, in a theater of wonderful elegance of construction. In the space of five hours the carpenters had put together all the different parts connected with the building; the upholsterers had laid down the carpets, erected the seats; and, as if at the wave of an enchanter’s wand, a thousand arms, aiding, instead of interfering with each other, had constructed the building, amidst the sound of music; whilst, at the same time, other workmen illuminated the theater and the shores of the lake with an incalculable number of lamps. As the heavens, set with stars, were perfectly unclouded, as not even a breath of air could be heard in the woods, and as if Nature itself had yielded complacently to the king’s fancies, the back of the theater had been left open; so that, behind the foreground of the scenes, could be seen as a background the beautiful sky, glittering with stars; the sheet of water, illuminated by the lights which were reflected in it; and the bluish outline of the grand masses of woods, with their rounded tops. When the king made his appearance, the theater was full, and presented to the view one vast group, dazzling with gold and precious stones; in which, however, at the first glance, no single face could be distinguished. By degrees, as the sight became accustomed to so much brilliancy, the rarest beauties appeared to the view, as in the evening sky the stars appear one by one to him who closes his eyes and then opens them again.
+
+The theater represented a grove of trees; a few fauns lifting up their cloven feet were jumping about; a dryad made her appearance on the scene, and was immediately pursued by them; others gathered round her for her defense, and they quarrelled as they danced. Suddenly, for the purpose of restoring peace and order, Spring, accompanied by his whole court, made his appearance. The Elements, subaltern powers of mythology, together with their attributes, hastened to follow their gracious sovereign. The Seasons, allies of Spring, followed him closely, to form a quadrille, which, after many words of more or less flattering import, was the commencement of the dance. The music, hautboys, flutes, and viols, was delightfully descriptive of rural delights. The king had already made his appearance, amid thunders of applause. He was dressed in a tunic of flowers, which set off his graceful and well-formed figure to advantage. His legs, the best-shaped at court, were displayed to great advantage in flesh-colored silken hose, of silk so fine and so transparent that it seemed almost like flesh itself. The most beautiful pale-lilac satin shoes, with bows of flowers and leaves, imprisoned his small feet. The bust of the figure was in harmonious keeping with the base; Louis’s waving hair floated on his shoulders, the freshness of his complexion was enhanced by the brilliancy of his beautiful blue eyes, which softly kindled all hearts; a mouth with tempting lips, which deigned to open in smiles. Such was the prince of that period: justly that evening styled “The King of all the Loves.” There was something in his carriage which resembled the buoyant movements of an immortal, and he did not dance so much as seem to soar along. His entrance produced, therefore, the most brilliant effect. Suddenly the Comte de Saint-Aignan was observed endeavoring to approach either the king or Madame.
+
+The princess -- who was robed in a long dress, diaphanous and light as the finest network tissue from the hands of skillful Mechlin workers, one knee occasionally revealed beneath the folds of the tunic, and her little feet encased in silken slippers decked with pearls -- advanced radiant with beauty, accompanied by her cortege of Bacchantes, and had already reached the spot assigned to her in the dance. The applause continued so long that the comte had ample leisure to join the king.
+
+“What is the matter, Saint-Aignan?” said Spring.
+
+“Nothing whatever,” replied the courtier, as pale as death; “but your majesty has not thought of Fruits.”
+
+“Yes; it is suppressed.”
+
+“Far from it, sire; your majesty having given no directions about it, the musicians have retained it.”
+
+“How excessively annoying,” said the king. “This figure cannot be performed, since M. de Guiche is absent. It must be suppressed.”
+
+“Ah, sire, a quarter of an hour’s music without any dancing will produce an effect so chilling as to ruin the success of the ballet.”
+
+“But, come, since -- ”
+
+“Oh, sire, that is not the greatest misfortune; for, after all, the orchestra could still just as well cut it out, if it were necessary; but -- ”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“Why, M. de Guiche is here.”
+
+“Here?” replied the king, frowning, “here? Are you sure?”
+
+“Yes, sire; and ready dressed for the ballet.”
+
+The king felt himself color deeply, and said, “You are probably mistaken.”
+
+“So little is that the case, sire, that if your majesty will look to the right, you will see that the comte is in waiting.”
+
+Louis turned hastily towards the side, and in fact, on his right, brilliant in his character of Autumn, De Guiche awaited until the king should look at him, in order that he might address him. To give an idea of the stupefaction of the king, and that of Monsieur, who was moving about restlessly in his box, -- to describe also the agitated movement of the heads in the theater, and the strange emotion of Madame, at the sight of her partner, -- is a task we must leave to abler hands. The king stood almost gaping with astonishment as he looked at the comte, who, bowing lowly, approached Louis with the profoundest respect.
+
+“Sire,” he said, “your majesty’s most devoted servant approaches to perform a service on this occasion with similar zeal that he has already shown on the field of battle. Your majesty, in omitting the dance of the Fruits, would be losing the most beautiful scene in the ballet. I did not wish to be the substance of so dark a shadow to your majesty’s elegance, skill, and graceful invention; and I have left my tenants in order to place my services at your majesty’s commands.”
+
+Every word fell distinctly, in perfect harmony and eloquence, upon Louis XIV.’s ears. Their flattery pleased, as much as De Guiche’s courage had astonished him, and he simply replied: “I did not tell you to return, comte.”
+
+“Certainly not, sire; but your majesty did not tell me to remain.”
+
+The king perceived that time was passing away, that if this strange scene were prolonged it would complicate everything, and that a single cloud upon the picture would eventually spoil the whole. Besides, the king’s heart was filled with two or three new ideas; he had just derived fresh inspiration from the eloquent glances of Madame. Her look had said to him: “Since they are jealous of you, divide their suspicions, for the man who distrusts two rivals does not object to either in particular.” So that Madame, by this clever diversion, decided him. The king smiled upon De Guiche, who did not comprehend a word of Madame’s dumb language, but he remarked that she pretended not to look at him, and he attributed the pardon which had been conferred upon him to the princess’s kindness of heart. The king seemed only pleased with every one present. Monsieur was the only one who did not understand anything about the matter. The ballet began; the effect was more than beautiful. When the music, by its bursts of melody, carried away these illustrious dancers, when the simple, untutored pantomime of that period, only the more natural on account of the very indifferent acting of the august actors, had reached its culminating point of triumph, the theater shook with tumultuous applause.
+
+De Guiche shone like a sun, but like a courtly sun, that is resigned to fill a subordinate part. Disdainful of a success of which Madame showed no acknowledgement, he thought of nothing but boldly regaining the marked preference of the princess. She, however, did not bestow a single glance upon him. By degrees all his happiness, all his brilliancy, subsided into regret and uneasiness; so that his limbs lost their power, his arms hung heavily by his sides, and his head drooped as though he was stupefied. The king, who had from this moment become in reality the principal dancer in the quadrille, cast a look upon his vanquished rival. De Guiche soon ceased to sustain even the character of the courtier; without applause, he danced indifferently, and very soon could not dance at all, by which accident the triumph of the king and of Madame was assured.
+
+Chapter XL: The Nymphs of the Park of Fontainebleau.
+
+The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards Madame, for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion, than others more advanced in years; but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor: so that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipoise, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty years of age. Louis thought of Madame, but only after he had studiously thought of himself; and Madame carefully thought of herself, without bestowing a single thought upon the king. The victim, however, of all these royal affections and affectations, was poor De Guiche. Every one could observe his agitation and prostration -- a prostration which was, indeed, the more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head bewildered, and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed. It rarely happened that any uneasiness was excited on his account, whenever a question of elegance or taste was under discussion; and De Guiche’s defeat was accordingly attributed by the greater number present to his courtier-like tact and ability. But there were others -- keen-sighted observers are always to be met with at court -- who remarked his paleness and his altered looks; which he could neither feign nor conceal, and their conclusion was that De Guiche was not acting the part of a flatterer. All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. When, however, the queens expressed their satisfaction and the spectators their enthusiasm, when the king had retired to his dressing-room to change his costume, and whilst Monsieur, dressed as a woman, as he delighted to be, was in his turn dancing about, De Guiche, who had now recovered himself, approached Madame, who, seated at the back of the theater, was waiting for the second part, and had quitted the others for the purpose of creating a sort of solitude for herself in the midst of the crowd, to meditate, as it were, beforehand, upon chorographic effects; and it will be perfectly understood that, absorbed in deep meditation, she did not see, or rather pretended not to notice, anything that was passing around her. De Guiche, observing that she was alone, near a thicket constructed of painted cloth, approached her. Two of her maids of honor, dressed as hamadryads, seeing De Guiche advance, drew back out of respect., whereupon De Guiche proceeded towards the middle of the circle and saluted her royal highness; but, whether she did or did not observe his salutations, the princess did not even turn her head. A cold shiver passed through poor De Guiche; he was unprepared for such utter indifference, for he had neither seen nor been told of anything that had taken place, and consequently could guess nothing. Remarking, therefore, that his obeisance obtained him no acknowledgement, he advanced one step further, and in a voice which he tried, though vainly, to render calm, said: “I have the honor to present my most humble respects to your royal highness.”
+
+Upon this Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the comte, observing. “Ah! M. de Guiche, is that you? good day!”
+
+The comte’s patience almost forsook him, as he continued, -- “Your royal highness danced just now most charmingly.”
+
+“Do you think so?” she replied with indifference.
+
+“Yes; the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own.”
+
+Madame again turned round, and, looking De Guiche full in the face with a bright and steady gaze, said, -- “Why so?”
+
+“Oh! there can be no doubt of it.”
+
+“Explain yourself?”
+
+“You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant.”
+
+“You mean Pomona, comte?”
+
+“I allude to the goddess.”
+
+Madame remained silent for a moment, with her lips compressed, and then observed, -- “But, comte, you, too, are an excellent dancer.”
+
+“Nay, Madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed.”
+
+With this remark, accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fibers of one’s being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly, and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply Madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and, as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and Mademoiselle de Montalais.
+
+“Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said?” the princess inquired.
+
+“No.”
+
+“It really is very singular,” she continued, in a compassionate tone, “how exile has affected poor M. de Guiche’s wit.” And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, -- “In the first place he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly.”
+
+She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. De Guiche had overheard everything. The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fete by his annoyance, he fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of Autumn in pieces, and scattering, as he went along, the branches of vines, mulberry and almond trees, with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards he returned to the theater; but it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back; or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure. She saw, but did not look at De Guiche, who, irritated and revengeful, turned his back upon her as she passed him, escorted by her nymphs, and followed by a hundred flatterers. During this time, at the other end of the theater, near the lake, a young woman was seated, with her eyes fixed upon one of the windows of the theater, from which were issuing streams of light -- the window in question being that of the royal box. As De Guiche quitted the theater for the purpose of getting into the fresh air he so much needed, he passed close to this figure and saluted her. When she perceived the young man, she rose, like a woman surprised in the midst of ideas she was desirous of concealing from herself. De Guiche stopped as he recognized her, and said hurriedly, -- “Good evening, Mademoiselle de la Valliere; I am indeed fortunate in meeting you.”
+
+“I, also, M. de Guiche, am glad of this accidental meeting,” said the young girl, as she was about to withdraw.
+
+“Pray do not leave me,” said De Guiche, stretching out his hand towards her, “for you would be contradicting the kind words you have just pronounced. Remain, I implore you: the evening is most lovely. You wish to escape from the merry tumult, and prefer your own society. Well, I can understand it; all women who are possessed of any feeling do, and one never finds them dull or lonely when removed from the giddy vortex of these exciting amusements. Oh! Heaven!” he exclaimed, suddenly.
+
+“What is the matter, monsieur le comte?” inquired La Valliere, with some anxiety. “You seem agitated.”
+
+“I! oh, no!”
+
+“Will you allow me, M. de Guiche, to return you the thanks I had proposed to offer you on the very first opportunity? It is to your recommendation, I am aware, that I owe my admission among the number of Madame’s maids of honor.”
+
+“Indeed! Ah! I remember now, and I congratulate myself. Do you love any one?”
+
+“I!” exclaimed La Valliere.
+
+“Forgive me, I hardly know what I am saying; a thousand times forgive me; Madame was right, quite right, this brutal exile has completely turned my brain.”
+
+“And yet it seemed to me that the king received you with kindness.”
+
+“Do you think so? Received me with kindness -- perhaps so -- yes -- ”
+
+“There cannot be a doubt he received you kindly, for, in fact, you returned without his permission.”
+
+“Quite true, and I believe you are right. But have you not seen M. de Bragelonne here?”
+
+La Valliere started at the name. “Why do you ask?” she inquired.
+
+“Have I offended you again?” said De Guiche. “In that case I am indeed unhappy, and greatly to be pitied.”
+
+“Yes, very unhappy, and very much to be pitied, Monsieur de Guiche, for you seem to be suffering terribly.”
+
+“Oh! mademoiselle, why have I not a devoted sister, or a true friend, such as yourself?”
+
+“You have friends, Monsieur de Guiche, and the Vicomte de Bragelonne, of whom you spoke just now, is, I believe, one of the most devoted.”
+
+“Yes, yes, you are right, he is one of my best friends. Farewell, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, farewell.” And he fled, like one possessed, along the banks of the lake. His dark shadow glided, lengthening as it disappeared, among the illumined yews and glittering undulations of the water. La Valliere looked after him, saying, -- “Yes, yes, he, too, is suffering, and I begin to understand why.”
+
+She had hardly finished when her companions, Mademoiselle de Montalais and Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, ran forward. They were released from their attendance, and had changed their costumes of nymphs; delighted with the beautiful night, and the success of the evening, they returned to look after their companion.
+
+“What, already here!” they said to her. “We thought we should be first at the rendezvous.”
+
+“I have been here this quarter of an hour,” replied La Valliere.
+
+“Did not the dancing amuse you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“But surely the enchanting spectacle?”
+
+“No more than the dancing. As far as beauty is concerned, I much prefer that which these dark woods present, in whose depths can be seen, now in one direction and again in another, a light passing by, as though it were an eye, in color like a midnight rainbow, sometimes open, at others closed.”
+
+“La Valliere is quite a poetess,” said Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“In other words,” said Montalais, “she is insupportable. Whenever there is a question of laughing a little or of amusing ourselves, La Valliere begins to cry; whenever we girls have reason to cry, because, perhaps, we have mislaid our dresses, or because our vanity as been wounded, or our costume fails to produce an effect, La Valliere laughs.”
+
+“As far as I am concerned, that is not my character,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente. “I am a woman; and there are few like me; whoever loves me, flatters me; whoever flatters me, pleases me; and whoever pleases -- ”
+
+“Well!” said Montalais, “you do not finish.”
+
+“It is too difficult,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, laughing loudly. “Do you, who are so clever, finish for me.”
+
+“And you, Louise?” said Montalais, “does any one please you?”
+
+“That is a matter that concerns no one but myself,” replied the young girl, rising from the mossy bank on which she had been reclining during the whole time the ballet lasted. “Now, mesdemoiselles, we have agreed to amuse ourselves to-night without any one to overlook us, and without any escort. We are three in number, we like one another, and the night is lovely. Look yonder, do you not see the moon slowly rising, silvering the topmost branches of the chestnuts and the oaks. Oh, beautiful walk! sweet liberty! exquisite soft turf of the woods, the happiness which your friendship confers upon me! let us walk arm in arm towards those large trees. Out yonder all are at this moment seated at table and fully occupied, or preparing to adorn themselves for a set and formal promenade; horses are being saddled, or harnessed to the carriages -- the queen’s mules or Madame’s four white ponies. As for ourselves, we shall soon reach some retired spot where no eyes can see us and no step follow ours. Do you not remember, Montalais, the woods of Cheverny and of Chambord, the innumerable rustling poplars of Blois, where we exchanged our mutual hopes?”
+
+“And confidences too?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “I also think a good deal; but I take care -- ”
+
+“To say nothing,” said Montalais, “so that when Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente thinks, Athenais is the only one who knows it.”
+
+“Hush!” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “I hear steps approaching from this side.”
+
+“Quick, quick, then, among the high reed-grass,” said Montalais; “stoop, Athenais, you are so tall.”
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente stooped as she was told, and, almost at the same moment, they saw two gentlemen approaching, their heads bent down, walking arm in arm, on the fine gravel walk running parallel with the bank. The young girls had, indeed, made themselves small -- indeed invisible.
+
+“It is Monsieur de Guiche,” whispered Montalais in Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente’s ear.
+
+“It is Monsieur de Bragelonne,” whispered the latter to La Valliere.
+
+The two young men approached still closer, conversing in animated tones. “She was here just now,” said the count. “If I had only seen her, I should have declared it to be a vision, but I spoke to her.”
+
+“You are positive, then?”
+
+“Yes; but perhaps I frightened her.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Oh! I was still half crazy at you know what; so that she could hardly have understood what I was saying, and must have grown alarmed.”
+
+“Oh!” said Bragelonne, “do not make yourself uneasy: she is all kindness, and will excuse you; she is clear-sighted, and will understand.”
+
+“Yes, but if she should have understood, and understood too well, she may talk.”
+
+“You do not know Louise, count,” said Raoul. “Louise possesses every virtue, and has not a single fault.” And the two young men passed on, and, as they proceeded, their voices were soon lost in the distance.
+
+“How is it, La Valliere,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “that the Vicomte de Bragelonne spoke of you as Louise?”
+
+“We were brought up together,” replied Louise, blushing; “M. de Bragelonne has honored me by asking my hand in marriage, but -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“It seems the king will not consent to it.”
+
+“Eh! Why the king? and what has the king to do with it?” exclaimed Aure, sharply. “Good gracious! has the king any right to interfere in matters of that kind? Politics are politics, as M. de Mazarin used to say; but love is love. If, therefore, you love M. de Bragelonne, marry him. I give my consent.”
+
+Athenais began to laugh.
+
+“Oh! I am speaking seriously,” replied Montalais, “and my opinion in this case is quite as good as the king’s, I suppose; is it not, Louise?”
+
+“Come,” said La Valliere, “these gentlemen have passed; let us take advantage of our being alone to cross the open ground and so take refuge in the woods.”
+
+“So much the better,” said Athenais, “because I see the torches setting out from the chateau and the theater, and they seem as if they were preceding some person of distinction.”
+
+“Let us run, then,” said all three. And, gracefully lifting up the long skirts of their silk dresses, they lightly ran across the open space between the lake and the thickest covert of the park. Montalais agile as a deer, Athenais eager as a young wolf, bounded through the dry grass, and, now and then, some bold Acteon might, by the aid of the faint light, have perceived their straight and well-formed limbs somewhat displayed beneath the heavy folds of their satin petticoats. La Valliere, more refined and more bashful, allowed her dress to flow around her; retarded also by the lameness of her foot, it was not long before she called out to her companions to halt, and, left behind, she obliged them both to wait for her. At this moment, a man, concealed in a dry ditch planted with young willow saplings, scrambled quickly up its shelving side, and ran off in the direction of the chateau. The three young girls, on their side, reached the outskirts of the park, every path of which they well knew. The ditches were bordered by high hedges full of flowers, which on that side protected the foot-passengers from being intruded upon by the horses and carriages. In fact, the sound of Madame’s and the queen’s carriages could be heard in the distance upon the hard dry ground of the roads, followed by the mounted cavaliers. Distant music reached them in response, and when the soft notes died away, the nightingale, with throat of pride, poured forth his melodious chants, and his most complicated, learned, and sweetest compositions to those who had met beneath the thick covert of the woods. Near the songster, in the dark background of the large trees, could be seen the glistening eyes of an owl, attracted by the harmony. In this way the fete of the whole court was a fete also for the mysterious inhabitants of the forest; for certainly the deer in the brake, the pheasant on the branch, the fox in its hole, were all listening. One could realize the life led by this nocturnal and invisible population from the restless movements that suddenly took place among the leaves. Our sylvan nymphs uttered a slight cry, but, reassured immediately afterwards, they laughed, and resumed their walk. In this manner they reached the royal oak, the venerable relic of a tree which in its prime has listened to the sighs of Henry II. for the beautiful Diana of Poitiers, and later still to those of Henry IV. for the lovely Gabrielle d’Estrees. Beneath this oak the gardeners had piled up the moss and turf in such a manner that never had a seat more luxuriously rested the wearied limbs of man or monarch. The trunk, somewhat rough to recline against, was sufficiently large to accommodate the three young girls, whose voices were lost among the branches, which stretched upwards to the sky.
+
+Chapter XLI. What Was Said under the Royal Oak.
+
+The softness of the air, the stillness of the foliage, tacitly imposed upon these young girls an engagement to change immediately their giddy conversation for one of a more serious character. She, indeed, whose disposition was the most lively, -- Montalais, for instance, -- was the first to yield to the influence; and she began by heaving a deep sigh, and saying: -- “What happiness to be here alone, and at liberty, with every right to be frank, especially towards one another.”
+
+“Yes,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “for the court, however brilliant it may be, has always some falsehood concealed beneath the folds of its velvet robes, or the glitter of its diamonds.”
+
+“I,” replied La Valliere, “I never tell a falsehood; when I cannot speak the truth, I remain silent.”
+
+“You will not long remain in favor,” said Montalais; “it is not here as it was at Blois, where we told the dowager Madame all our little annoyances, and all our longings. There were certain days when Madame remembered that she herself had been young, and, on those days, whoever talked with her found in her a sincere friend. She related to us her flirtations with Monsieur, and we told her of the flirtations she had had with others, or, at least, the rumors of them that had spread abroad. Poor woman, so simple-minded! she laughed at them, as we did. Where is she now?”
+
+“Ah, Montalais, -- laughter-loving Montalais!” cried La Valliere; “you see you are sighing again; the woods inspire you, and you are almost reasonable this evening.”
+
+“You ought not, either of you,” said Athenais, “to regret the court at Blois so much, unless you do not feel happy with us. A court is a place where men and women resort to talk of matters which mothers, guardians, and especially confessors, severely denounce.”
+
+“Oh, Athenais!” said Louise, blushing.
+
+“Athenais is frank to-night,” said Montalais; “let us avail ourselves of it.”
+
+“Yes, let us take advantage of it, for this evening I could divulge the softest secrets of my heart.”
+
+“Ah, if M. Montespan were here!” said Montalais.
+
+“Do you think that I care for M. de Montespan?” murmured the beautiful young girl.
+
+“He is handsome, I believe?”
+
+“Yes. And that is no small advantage in my eyes.”
+
+“There now, you see -- ”
+
+“I will go further, and say, that of all the men whom one sees here, he is the handsomest, and the most -- ”
+
+“What was that?” said La Valliere, starting suddenly from the mossy bank.
+
+“A deer hurrying by, perhaps.”
+
+“I am only afraid of men,” said Athenais.
+
+“When they do not resemble M. de Montespan.”
+
+“A truce to raillery. M. de Montespan is attentive to me, but that does not commit me in any way. Is not M. de Guiche here, he who is so devoted to Madame?”
+
+“Poor fellow!” said La Valliere.
+
+“Why to be pitied? Madame is sufficiently beautiful, and of high enough rank, I suppose.”
+
+La Valliere shook her head sorrowfully, saying, “When one loves, it is neither beauty nor rank; -- when one loves it should be the heart, or the eyes only, of him, or of her whom one loves.”
+
+Montalais began to laugh loudly. “Heart, eyes,” she said; “oh, sugar-plums!”
+
+“I speak for myself;” replied La Valliere.
+
+“Noble sentiments,” said Athenais, with an air of protection, but with indifference.
+
+“Are they not your own?” asked Louise.
+
+“Perfectly so; but to continue: how can one pity a man who bestows his attentions upon such a woman as Madame? If any disproportion exists, it is on the count’s side.”
+
+“Oh! no, no,” returned La Valliere; “it is on Madame’s side.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“I will. Madame has not even a wish to know what love is. She diverts herself with the feeling, as children do with fireworks, form which a spark might set a palace on fire. It makes a display, and that is all she cares about. Besides, pleasure forms the tissue of which she wishes her life to be woven. M. de Guiche loves this illustrious personage, but she will never love him.”
+
+Athenais laughed disdainfully. “Do people really ever love?” she said. “Where are the noble sentiments you just now uttered? Does not a woman’s virtue consist in the uncompromising refusal of every intrigue that might compromise her? A properly regulated woman, endowed with a natural heart, ought to look at men, make herself loved -- adored, even, by them, and say at the very utmost but once in her life, ‘I begin to think that I ought not to have been what I am, -- I should have detested this one less than others.’”
+
+“Therefore,” exclaimed La Valliere, “that is what M. de Montespan has to expect.”
+
+“Certainly; he, as well as every one else. What! have I not said that I admit he possesses a certain superiority, and would not that be enough? My dear child, a woman is a queen during the entire period nature permits her to enjoy sovereign power -- from fifteen to thirty-five years of age. After that, we are free to have a heart, when we only have that left -- ”
+
+“Oh, oh!” murmured La Valliere.
+
+“Excellent,” cried Montalais; “a very masterly woman; Athenais, you will make your way in the world.”
+
+“Do you not approve of what I say?”
+
+“Completely,” replied her laughing companion.
+
+“You are not serious, Montalais?” said Louise.
+
+“Yes, yes; I approve everything Athenais has just said; only -- ”
+
+“Only what?”
+
+“Well, I cannot carry it out. I have the firmest principles; I form resolutions beside which the laws of the Stadtholder and of the King of Spain are child’s play; but when the moment arrives to put them into execution, nothing comes of them.”
+
+“Your courage fails?” said Athenais, scornfully.
+
+“Miserably so.”
+
+“Great weakness of nature,” returned Athenais. “But at least you make a choice.”
+
+“Why, no. It pleases fate to disappoint me in everything; I dream of emperors, and I find only -- ”
+
+“Aure, Aure!” exclaimed La Valliere, “for pity’s sake, do not, for the pleasure of saying something witty, sacrifice those who love you with such devoted affection.”
+
+“Oh, I do not trouble myself much about that; those who love me are sufficiently happy that I do not dismiss them altogether. So much the worse for myself if I have a weakness for any one, but so much the worse for others if I revenge myself upon them for it.”
+
+“You are right,” said Athenais, “and, perhaps, you too will reach the goal. In other words, young ladies, that is termed being a coquette. Men, who are very silly in most things, are particularly so in confounding, under the term of coquetry, a woman’s pride, and love of changing her sentiments as she does her dress. I, for instance, am proud; that is to say, impregnable. I treat my admirers harshly, but without any pretention to retain them. Men call me a coquette, because they are vain enough to think I care for them. Other women -- Montalais, for instance -- have allowed themselves to be influenced by flattery; they would be lost were it not for that most fortunate principle of instinct which urges them to change suddenly, and punish the man whose devotion they so recently accepted.”
+
+“A very learned dissertation,” said Montalais, in the tone of thorough enjoyment.
+
+“It is odious!” murmured Louise.
+
+“Thanks to that sort of coquetry, for, indeed, that is genuine coquetry,” continued Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “the lover who, a little while since, was puffed up with pride, in a minute afterwards is suffering at every pore of his vanity and self-esteem. He was, perhaps, already beginning to assume the airs of a conqueror, but now he retreats defeated; he was about to assume an air of protection towards us, but he is obliged to prostrate himself once more. The result of all this is, that, instead of having a husband who is jealous and troublesome, free from restraint in his conduct towards us, we have a lover always trembling in our presence, always fascinated by our attractions, always submissive; and for this simple reason, that he finds the same woman never twice of the same mind. Be convinced, therefore, of the advantages of coquetry. Possessing that, one reigns a queen among women in cases where Providence has withheld that precious faculty of holding one’s heart and mind in check.”
+
+“How clever you are,” said Montalais, “and how well you understand the duty women owe themselves!”
+
+“I am only settling a case of individual happiness,” said Athenais modestly; “and defending myself, like all weak, loving dispositions, against the oppressions of the stronger.”
+
+“La Valliere does not say a word.”
+
+“Does she not approve of what we are saying?”
+
+“Nay; only I do not understand it,” said Louise. “You talk like people not called upon to live in this world of ours.”
+
+“And very pretty your world is,” said Montalais.
+
+“A world,” returned Athenais, “in which men worship a woman until she has fallen, -- and insult her when she has fallen.”
+
+“Who spoke to you of falling?” said Louise.
+
+“Yours is a new theory, then; will you tell us how you intend to resist yielding to temptation, if you allow yourself to be hurried away by feelings of affection?”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed the young girl, raising towards the dark heavens her beautiful large eyes filled with tears, “if you did but know what a heart is, I would explain, and convince you; a loving heart is stronger than all your coquetry, more powerful than all your pride. A woman is never truly loved, I believe; a man never loves with idolatry, unless he feels sure he is loved in return. Let old men, whom we read of in comedies, fancy themselves adored by coquettes. A young man is conscious of, and knows them; if he has a fancy, or a strong desire, and an absorbing passion, for a coquette, he cannot mistake her; a coquette may drive him out of his senses, but will never make him fall in love. Love, such as I conceive it to be, is an incessant, complete, and perfect sacrifice; but it is not the sacrifice of one only of the two persons thus united. It is the perfect abnegation of two who are desirous of blending their beings into one. If ever I love, I shall implore my lover to leave me free and pure; I will tell him, and he will understand, that my heart was torn by my refusal, and he, in his love for me, aware of the magnitude of my sacrifice, -- he, in his turn, I say, will store his devotion for me, -- will respect me, and will not seek my ruin, to insult me when I shall have fallen, as you said just now, whilst uttering your blasphemies against love, such as I understand it. That is my idea of love. And now you will tell me, perhaps, that my love will despise me; I defy him to do so, unless he be the vilest of men, and my heart assures me that it is not such a man I would choose. A look from me will repay him for the sacrifices he makes, or will inspire him with the virtues which he would never think he possessed.”
+
+“But, Louise,” exclaimed Montalais, “you tell us this, and do not carry it into practice.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“You are adored by Raoul de Bragelonne, who worships you on both knees. The poor fellow is made the victim of your virtue, just as he would be -- nay, more than he would be, even -- of my coquetry, or Athenais’s pride.”
+
+“All this is simply a different shade of coquetry,” said Athenais; “and Louise, I perceive, is a coquette without knowing it.”
+
+“Oh!” said La Valliere.
+
+“Yes, you may call it instinct, if you please, keenest sensibility, exquisite refinement of feeling, perpetual play of restrained outbreaks of affection, which end in smoke. It is very artful too, and very effective. I should even, now that I reflect upon it, have preferred this system of tactics to my own pride, for waging war on members of the other sex, because it offers the advantage sometimes of thoroughly convincing them; but, at the present moment, without utterly condemning myself, I declare it to be superior to the non-complex coquetry of Montalais.” And the two young girls began to laugh.
+
+La Valliere alone preserved silence, and quietly shook her head. Then, a moment after, she added, “If you were to tell me, in the presence of a man, but a fourth part of what you have just said, or even if I were assured that you think it, I should die of shame and grief where I am now.”
+
+“Very well; die, poor tender little darling,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “for if there are no men here, there are at least two women, your own friends, who declare you to be attained and convicted of being a coquette from instinct; in other words, the most dangerous kind of coquette the world possesses.”
+
+“Oh! mesdemoiselles,” replied La Valliere, blushing, and almost ready to weep. Her two companions again burst out laughing.
+
+“Very well! I will ask Bragelonne to tell me.”
+
+“Bragelonne?” said Athenais.
+
+“Yes! Bragelonne, who is as courageous as Caesar, and as clever and witty as M. Fouquet. Poor fellow! for twelve years he has known you, loved you, and yet -- one can hardly believe it -- he has never even kissed the tips of your fingers.”
+
+“Tell us the reason of this cruelty, you who are all heart,” said Athenais to La Valliere.
+
+“Let me explain it by a single word -- virtue. You will perhaps deny the existence of virtue?”
+
+“Come, Louise, tell us the truth,” said Aure, taking her by the hand.
+
+“What do you wish me to tell you?” cried La Valliere.
+
+“Whatever you like; but it will be useless for you to say anything, for I persist in my opinion of you. A coquette from instinct; in other words, as I have already said, and I say it again, the most dangerous of all coquettes.”
+
+“Oh! no, no; for pity’s sake do not believe that!”
+
+“What! twelve years of extreme severity.”
+
+“How can that be, since twelve years ago I was only five years old? The frivolity of the child cannot surely be placed to the young girl’s account.”
+
+“Well! you are now seventeen; three years instead of twelve. During those three years you have remained constantly and unchangeably cruel. Against you are arrayed the silent shades of Blois, the meetings when you diligently conned the stars together, the evening wanderings beneath the plantain-trees, his impassioned twenty years speaking to your fourteen summers, the fire of his glances addressed to yourself.”
+
+“Yes, yes; but so it is!”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“But why impossible?”
+
+“Tell us something credible and we will believe you.”
+
+“Yet, if you were to suppose one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Suppose that I thought I was in love, and that I am not.”
+
+“What! not in love!”
+
+“Well, then! if I have acted in a different manner to what others do when they are in love, it is because I do not love; and because my hour has not yet come.”
+
+“Louise, Louise,” said Montalais, “take care or I will remind you of the remark you made just now. Raoul is not here; do not overwhelm him while he is absent; be charitable, and if, on closer inspection, you think you do not love him, tell him so, poor fellow!” and she began to laugh.
+
+“Louise pitied M. de Guiche just now,” said Athenais; “would it be possible to detect an explanation of her indifference for the one in this compassion for the other?”
+
+“Say what you please,” said La Valliere, sadly; “upbraid me as you like, since you do not understand me.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” replied Montalais, “temper, sorrow, tears; we are jesting, Louise, and are not, I assure you, quite the monsters you suppose. Look at the proud Athenais, as she is called; she does not love M. de Montespan, it is true, but she would be in despair if M. de Montespan did not continue to love her. Look at me; I laugh at M. Malicorne, but the poor fellow whom I laugh at knows precisely when he will be permitted to press his lips upon my hand. And yet the eldest of us is not twenty yet. What a future before us!”
+
+“Silly, silly girls!” murmured Louise.
+
+“You are quite right,” said Montalais; “and you alone have spoken words of wisdom.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“I do not dispute it,” replied Athenais. “And so it is clear you do not love poor M. de Bragelonne?”
+
+“Perhaps she does,” said Montalais; “she is not yet quite certain of it. But, in any case, listen, Athenais; if M. de Bragelonne is ever free, I will give you a little friendly advice.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“To look at him well before you decide in favor of M. de Montespan.”
+
+“Oh! in that way of considering the subject, M. de Bragelonne is not the only one whom one could look at with pleasure; M. de Guiche, for instance, has his value also.”
+
+“He did not distinguish himself this evening,” said Montalais; “and I know from very good authority that Madame thought him insupportable.”
+
+“M. de Saint-Aignan produced a most brilliant effect, and I am sure that more than one person who saw him dance this evening will not soon forget him. Do you not think so, La Valliere?”
+
+“Why do you ask me? I did not see him, nor do I know him.”
+
+“What! you did not see M. de Saint-Aignan? Don’t you know him?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Come, come, do not affect a virtue more extravagantly excessive than our vanity! -- you have eyes, I suppose?”
+
+“Excellent.”
+
+“Then you must have seen all those who danced this evening.”
+
+“Yes, nearly all.”
+
+“That is a very impertinent ‘nearly all’ for somebody.”
+
+“You must take it for what it is worth.”
+
+“Very well; now, among all those gentlemen whom you saw, which do you prefer?”
+
+“Yes,” said Montalais, “is it M. de Saint-Aignan, or M. de Guiche, or M. -- ”
+
+“I prefer no one; I thought them all about the same.”
+
+“Do you mean, then, that among that brilliant assembly, the first court in the world, no one pleased you?”
+
+“I do not say that.”
+
+“Tell us, then, who your ideal is?”
+
+“It is not an ideal being.”
+
+“He exists, then?”
+
+“In very truth,” exclaimed La Valliere, aroused and excited; “I cannot understand you at all. What! you who have a heart as I have, eyes as I have, and yet you speak of M. de Guiche, of M. de Saint-Aignan, when the king was there.” These words, uttered in a precipitate manner, and in an agitated, fervid tone of voice, made her two companions, between whom she was seated, exclaim in a manner that terrified her, “The king!”
+
+La Valliere buried her face in her hands. “Yes,” she murmured; “the king! the king! Have you ever seen any one to be compared to the king?”
+
+“You were right just now in saying you had excellent eyes, Louise, for you see a great distance; too far, indeed. Alas! the king is not one upon whom our poor eyes have a right to hinge themselves.”
+
+“That is too true,” cried La Valliere; “it is not the privilege of all eyes to gaze upon the sun; but I will look upon him, even were I to be blinded in doing so.” At this moment, and as though caused by the words which had just escaped La Valliere’s lips, a rustling of leaves, and of what sounded like some silken material, was heard behind the adjoining bushes. The young girls hastily rose, almost terrified out of their senses. They distinctly saw the leaves move, without being able to see what it was that stirred them.
+
+“It is a wolf or a wild boar,” cried Montalais; “fly! fly!” The three girls, in the extremity of terror, fled by the first path that presented itself, and did not stop until they had reached the verge of the wood. There, breathless, leaning against each other, feeling their hearts throb wildly, they endeavored to collect their senses, but could only succeed in doing so after the lapse of some minutes. Perceiving at last the lights from the windows of the chateau, they decided to walk towards them. La Valliere was exhausted with fatigue, and Aure and Athenais were obliged to support her.
+
+“We have escaped well,” said Montalais.
+
+“I am greatly afraid,” said La Valliere, “that it was something worse than a wolf. For my part, and I speak as I think, I should have preferred to have run the risk of being devoured alive by some wild animal than to have been listened to and overheard. Fool, fool that I am! How could I have thought, how could I have said what I did?” And saying this her head bowed like the water tossed plume of a bulrush; she felt her limbs fail, and her strength abandoning her, and, gliding almost inanimate from the arms of her companions, sank down upon the turf.
+
+Chapter XLII. The King’s Uneasiness.
+
+Let us leave poor La Valliere, who had fainted in the arms of her two companions, and return to the precincts of the royal oak. The young girls had hardly run twenty paces, when the sound which had so much alarmed them was renewed among the branches. A man’s figure might indistinctly be perceived, and putting the branches of the bushes aside, he appeared upon the verge of the wood, and perceiving that the place was empty, burst out into a peal of laughter. It is almost superfluous to add that the form in question was that of a young and handsome cavalier, who immediately made a sign to another, who thereupon made his appearance.
+
+“What, sire,” said the second figure, advancing timidly, “has your majesty put our young sentimentalists to flight?”
+
+“It seems so,” said the king, “and you can show yourself without fear.”
+
+“Take care, sire, you will be recognized.”
+
+“But I tell you they are flown.”
+
+“This is a most fortunate meeting, sire; and, if I dared offer an opinion to your majesty, we ought to follow them.”
+
+“They are far enough away by this time.”
+
+“They would quickly allow themselves to be overtaken, especially if they knew who were following them.”
+
+“What do you mean by that, coxcomb that you are?”
+
+“Why, one of them seems to have taken a fancy to me, and another compared you to the sun.”
+
+“The greater reason why we should not show ourselves, Saint-Aignan. The sun never shows itself in the night-time.”
+
+“Upon my word, sire, your majesty seems to have very little curiosity. In your place, I should like to know who are the two nymphs, the two dryads, the two hamadryads, who have so good an opinion of us.”
+
+“I shall know them again very well, I assure you, without running after them.”
+
+“By what means?”
+
+“By their voices, of course. They belong to the court, and the one who spoke of me had a remarkably sweet voice.”
+
+“Ah! your majesty permits yourself to be influenced by flattery.”
+
+“No one will ever say it is a means you make use of.”
+
+“Forgive my stupidity, sire.”
+
+“Come; let us go and look where I told you.”
+
+“Is the passion, then, which your majesty confided to me, already forgotten?”
+
+“Oh! no, indeed. How is it possible to forget such beautiful eyes as Mademoiselle de la Valliere has?”
+
+“Yet the other one has a beautiful voice.”
+
+“Which one?”
+
+“The lady who has fallen in love with the sun.”
+
+“M. de Saint-Aignan!”
+
+“Forgive me, sire.”
+
+“Well, I am not sorry you should believe me to be an admirer of sweet voices as well as of beautiful eyes. I know you to be a terrible talker, and to-morrow I shall have to pay for the confidence I have shown you.”
+
+“What do you mean, sire?”
+
+“That to-morrow every one will know that I have designs upon this little La Valliere; but be careful, Saint-Aignan, I have confided my secret to no one but you, and if any one should speak to me about it, I shall know who has betrayed my secret.”
+
+“You are angry, sire.”
+
+“No; but you understand I do not wish to compromise the poor girl.”
+
+“Do not be afraid, sire.”
+
+“You promise me, then?”
+
+“I give you my word of honor.”
+
+“Excellent,” thought the king, laughing to himself; “now every one will know to-morrow that I have been running about after La Valliere to-night.”
+
+Then, endeavoring to see where he was, he said: “Why we have lost ourselves.”
+
+“Not quite so bad as that, sire.”
+
+“Where does that gate lead to?”
+
+“To Rond-Point, sire.”
+
+“Where were we going when we heard the sound of women’s voices?”
+
+“Yes, sire, and the termination of a conversation in which I had the honor of hearing my own name pronounced by the side of your majesty’s.”
+
+“You return to that subject too frequently, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Your majesty will forgive me, but I am delighted to know that a woman exists whose thoughts are occupied about me, without my knowledge, and without my having done anything to deserve it. Your majesty cannot comprehend this satisfaction, for your rank and merit attract attention, and compel regard.”
+
+“No, no, Saint-Aignan, believe me or not, as you like,” said the king, leaning familiarly upon Saint-Aignan’s arm and taking the path he thought would lead them to the chateau; “but this candid confession, this perfectly disinterested preference of one who will, perhaps, never attract my attention -- in one word, the mystery of this adventure excites me, and the truth is, that if I were not so taken with La Valliere -- ”
+
+“Do not let that interfere with your majesty’s intentions: you have time enough before you.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“La Valliere is said to be very strict in her ideas.”
+
+“You excite my curiosity and I am anxious to see her again. Come, let us walk on.”
+
+The king spoke untruly, for nothing, on the contrary, could make him less anxious, but he had a part to play, and so he walked on hurriedly. Saint-Aignan followed him at a short distance. Suddenly the king stopped; the courtier followed his example.
+
+“Saint-Aignan,” he said, “do you not hear some one moaning?”
+
+“Yes, sire, and weeping, too, it seems.”
+
+“It is in this direction,” said the king. “It sounds like the tears and sobs of a woman.”
+
+“Run,” said the king; and, following a by-path, they ran across the grass. As they approached, the cries were more distinctly heard.
+
+“Help, help,” exclaimed two voices. The king and his companion redoubled their speed, and, as they approached nearer, the sighs they had heard were changed into loud sobs. The cry of “Help! help!” was again repeated; at the sound of which, the king and Saint-Aignan increased the rapidity of their pace. Suddenly at the other side of a ditch, under the branches of a willow, they perceived a woman on her knees, holding another in her arms who seemed to have fainted. A few paces from them, a third, standing in the middle of the path, was calling for assistance. Perceiving the two gentlemen, whose rank she could not tell, her cries for assistance were redoubled. The king, who was in advance of his companion, leaped across the ditch, and reached the group at the very moment when, from the end of the path which led to the chateau, a dozen persons were approaching, who had been drawn to the spot by the same cries that had attracted the attention of the king and M. de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“What is the matter, young ladies?” said Louis.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Montalais, in her astonishment, letting La Valliere’s head fall upon the ground.
+
+“Yes, it is the king; but that is no reason why you should abandon your companion. Who is she?”
+
+“It is Mademoiselle de la Valliere, sire.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere!”
+
+“Yes, sire, she has just fainted.”
+
+“Poor child!” said the king. “Quick, quick, fetch a surgeon.” But however great the anxiety with which the king had pronounced these words may have seemed to others, he had not so carefully schooled himself but that they appeared, as well as the gesture which accompanied them, somewhat cold to Saint-Aignan, to whom the king had confided the sudden love with which she had inspired him.
+
+“Saint-Aignan,” continued the king, “watch over Mademoiselle de la Valliere, I beg. Send for a surgeon. I will hasten forward and inform Madame of the accident which has befallen one of her maids of honor.” And, in fact, while M. de Saint-Aignan was busily engaged in making preparations for carrying Mademoiselle de la Valliere to the chateau, the king hurried forward, happy to have an opportunity of approaching Madame, and of speaking to her under a colorable pretext. Fortunately, a carriage was passing; the coachman was told to stop, and the persons who were inside, having been informed of the accident, eagerly gave up their seats to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. The current of fresh air produced by the rapid motion of the carriage soon recalled her to her senses. Having reached the chateau, she was able, though very weak, to alight from the carriage, and, with the assistance of Athenais and of Montalais, to reach the inner apartments. They made her sit down in one of the rooms of the ground floor. After a while, as the accident had not produced much effect upon those who had been walking, the promenade was resumed. During this time, the king had found Madame beneath a tree with overhanging branches, and had seated himself by her side.
+
+“Take care, sire,” said Henrietta to him, in a low tone, “you do not show yourself as indifferent as you ought to be.”
+
+“Alas!” replied the king, in the same tone, “I much fear we have entered into an agreement above our strength to keep.” He then added aloud, “You have heard of the accident, I suppose?”
+
+“What accident?”
+
+“Oh! in seeing you I forgot I hurried here expressly to tell you of it. I am, however, painfully affected by it; one of your maids of honor, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, has just fainted.”
+
+“Indeed! poor girl,” said the princess, quietly, “what was the cause of it?”
+
+She then added in an undertone, “You forget, sire, that you wish others to believe in your passion for this girl, and yet you remain here while she is almost dying, perhaps, elsewhere.”
+
+“Ah! Madame,” said the king, sighing, “how much more perfect you are in your part than I am, and how actively you think of everything.”
+
+He then rose, saying loud enough for every one to hear him, “Permit me to leave you, Madame; my uneasiness is very great, and I wish to be quite certain, myself, that proper attention has been given to Mademoiselle de la Valliere.” And the king left again to return to La Valliere, while those who had been present commented upon the king’s remark: -- “My uneasiness is very great.”
+
+Chapter XLIII. The King’s Secret.
+
+On his way Louis met the Comte de Saint-Aignan. “Well, Saint-Aignan,” he inquired, with affected interest, “how is the invalid.”
+
+“Really, sire,” stammered Saint-Aignan, “to my shame, I confess I do not know.”
+
+“What! you do not know?” said the king, pretending to take in a serious manner this want of attention for the object of his predilection.
+
+“Will your majesty pardon me; but I have just met one of our three loquacious wood-nymphs, and I confess that my attention has been taken away from other matters.”
+
+“Ah!” said the king, eagerly, “you have found, then -- ”
+
+“The one who deigned to speak of me in such advantageous terms; and, having found mine, I was searching for yours, sire, when I had the happiness to meet your majesty.”
+
+“Very well; but Mademoiselle de la Valliere before everything else,” said the king, faithful to the character he had assumed.
+
+“Oh! our charming invalid!” said Saint-Aignan; “how fortunately her fainting fit came on, since your majesty had already occupied yourself about her.”
+
+“What is the name of your fair lady, Saint-Aignan? Is it a secret?”
+
+“It ought to be a secret, and a very great one, even; but your majesty is well aware that no secret can possibly exist for you.”
+
+“Well, what is her name?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Is she pretty?”
+
+“Exceedingly, sire; and I recognized the voice which pronounced my name in such tender accents. I accosted her, questioned her as well as I was able to do, in the midst of the crowd; and she told me, without suspecting anything, that a little while ago she was under the great oak, with her two friends, when the sound of a wolf or a robber had terrified them, and made them run away.”
+
+“But,” inquired the king, anxiously, “what are the names of these two friends?”
+
+“Sire,” said Saint-Aignan, “will your majesty send me forthwith to the Bastile?”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Because I am an egotist and a fool. My surprise was so great at such a conquest, and at so fortunate a discovery, that I went no further in my inquiries. Besides, I did not think that your majesty would attach any very great importance to what you heard, knowing how much your attention was taken up by Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and then, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente left me precipitately, to return to Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Let us hope, then, that I shall be as fortunate as yourself. Come, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Your majesty is ambitions, I perceive, and does not wish to allow any conquest to escape you. Well, I assure you that I will conscientiously set about my inquiries; and, moreover, from one or the other of those Three Graces we shall learn the names of the rest, and by the names their secrets.”
+
+“I, too,” said the king, “only require to hear her voice to know it again. Come, let us say no more about it, but show me where poor La Valliere is.”
+
+“Well,” thought Saint-Aignan, “the king’s regard is beginning to display itself, and for that girl too. It is extraordinary; I should never have believed it.” And with this thought passing through his mind, he showed the king the room to which La Valliere had been carried; the king entered, followed by Saint-Aignan. In a low chamber, near a large window looking out upon the gardens, La Valliere, reclining in a large armchair, was inhaling deep draughts of the perfumed evening breeze. From the loosened body of her dress, the lace fell in tumbled folds, mingling with the tresses of her beautiful fair hair, which lay scattered upon her shoulders. Her languishing eyes were filled with tears; she seemed as lifeless as those beautiful visions of our dreams, that pass before the mental eye of the sleeper, half-opening their wings without moving them, unclosing their lips without a sound escaping them. The pearl-like pallor of La Valliere possessed a charm it would be impossible to describe. Mental and bodily suffering had produced upon her features a soft and noble expression of grief; from the perfect passiveness of her arms and bust, she more resembled one whose soul had passed away, than a living being; she seemed not to hear either of the whisperings which arose from the court. She seemed to be communing within herself; and her beautiful, delicate hands trembled from time to time as though at the contact of some invisible touch. She was so completely absorbed in her reverie, that the king entered without her perceiving him. At a distance he gazed upon her lovely face, upon which the moon shed its pure silvery light.
+
+“Good Heavens!” he exclaimed, with a terror he could not control, “she is dead.”
+
+“No, sire,” said Montalais, in a low voice; “on the contrary, she is better. Are you not better, Louise?”
+
+But Louise did not answer. “Louise,” continued Montalais, “the king has deigned to express his uneasiness on your account.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Louise, starting up abruptly, as if a stream of fire had started through her frame to her heart; “the king uneasy about me?”
+
+“Yes,” said Montalais.
+
+“The king is here, then?” said La Valliere, not venturing to look round her.
+
+“That voice! that voice!” whispered Louis, eagerly, to Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Yes, it is so,” replied Saint-Aignan; “your majesty is right; it is she who declared her love for the sun.”
+
+“Hush!” said the king. And then approaching La Valliere, he said, “You are not well, Mademoiselle de la Valliere? Just now, indeed, in the park, I saw that you had fainted. How were you attacked?”
+
+“Sire,” stammered out the poor child, pale and trembling, “I really do not know.”
+
+“You have been walking too far,” said the king; “and fatigue, perhaps -- ”
+
+“No, sire,” said Montalais, eagerly, answering for her friend, “it could not be from fatigue, for we passed most of the evening seated beneath the royal oak.”
+
+“Under the royal oak?” returned the king, starting. “I was not deceived; it is as I thought.” And he directed a look of intelligence at the comte.
+
+“Yes,” said Saint-Aignan, “under the royal oak, with Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“How do you know that?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“In a very simple way. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente told me so.”
+
+“In that case, she probably told you the cause of Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s fainting?”
+
+“Why, yes; she told me something about a wolf or a robber. I forget precisely which.” La Valliere listened, her eyes fixed, her bosom heaving, as if, gifted with an acuteness of perception, she foresaw a portion of the truth. Louis imagined this attitude and agitation to be the consequence of a terror only partially reassured. “Nay, fear nothing,” he said, with a rising emotion which he could not conceal; “the wolf which terrified you so much was simply a wolf with two legs.”
+
+“It was a man, then!” said Louise; “it was a man who was listening?”
+
+“Suppose it was so, mademoiselle, what great harm was there in his having listened? Is it likely that, even in your own opinion, you would have said anything which could not have been listened to?”
+
+La Valliere wrung her hands, and hid her face in them, as if to hide her blushes. “In Heaven’s name,” she said, “who was concealed there? Who was listening?”
+
+The king advanced towards her, to take hold of one of her hands. “It was I,” he said, bowing with marked respect. “Is it likely I could have frightened you?” La Valliere uttered a loud cry; for the second time her strength forsook her; and moaning in utter despair, she again fell lifeless in her chair. The king had just time to hold out his arm; so that she was partially supported by him. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and Montalais, who stood a few paces from the king and La Valliere, motionless and almost petrified at the recollection of their conversation with La Valliere, did not even think of offering their assistance, feeling restrained by the presence of the king, who, with one knee on the ground, held La Valliere round the waist with his arm.
+
+“You heard, sire!” murmured Athenais. But the king did not reply; he remained with his eyes fixed upon La Valliere’s half-closed eyes, and held her quiescent hand in his own.
+
+“Of course,” replied Saint-Aignan, who, on his side, hoping that Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, too, would faint, advancing towards her, holding his arms extended, -- “of course; we did not even lose a single word.” But the haughty Athenais was not a woman to faint easily; she darted a terrible look at Saint-Aignan, and fled. Montalais, with more courage, advanced hurriedly towards Louise, and received her from the king’s hands, who was already fast losing his presence of mind, as he felt his face covered by the perfumed tresses of the seemingly dying girl. “Excellent,” whispered Saint-Aignan. “This is indeed an adventure; and it will be my own fault if I am not the first to relate it.”
+
+The king approached him, and, with a trembling voice and a passionate gesture, said, “Not a syllable, comte.”
+
+The poor king forgot that, only an hour before, he had given him a similar recommendation, but with the very opposite intention; namely, that the comte should be indiscreet. It followed, as a matter of course, that he latter recommendation was quite as unnecessary as the former. Half an hour afterwards, everybody in Fontainebleau knew that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had had a conversation under the royal oak with Montalais and Tonnay-Charente, and that in this conversation she had confessed her affection for the king. It was known, also, that the king, after having manifested the uneasiness with which Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s health had inspired him, had turned pale, and trembled very much as he received the beautiful girl fainting into his arms; so that it was quite agreed among the courtiers, that the greatest event of the period had just been revealed; that his majesty loved Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and that, consequently, Monsieur could now sleep in perfect tranquillity. It was this, even, that the queen-mother, as surprised as the others by the sudden change, hastened to tell the young queen and Philip d’Orleans. Only she set to work in a different manner, by attacking them in the following way: -- To her daughter-in-law she said, “See, now, Therese, how very wrong you were to accuse the king; now it is said he is devoted to some other person; why should there be any greater truth in the report of to-day than in that of yesterday, or in that of yesterday than in that of to-day?” To Monsieur, in relating to him the adventure of the royal oak, she said, “Are you not very absurd in your jealousies, my dear Philip? It is asserted that the king is madly in love with that little La Valliere. Say nothing of it to your wife; for the queen will know all about it very soon.” This latter confidential communication had an immediate result. Monsieur, who had regained his composure, went triumphantly to look after his wife, and it was not yet midnight and the fete was to continue until two in the morning, he offered her his hand for a promenade. At the end of a few paces, however, the first thing he did was to disobey his mother’s injunctions.
+
+“Do not tell any one, the queen least of all,” he said mysteriously, “what people say about the king.”
+
+“What do they say about him?” inquired Madame.
+
+“That my brother has suddenly fallen in love.”
+
+“With whom?”
+
+“With Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+As it was dark, Madame could smile at her ease.
+
+“Ah!” she said, “and how long is it since this has been the case?”
+
+“For some days, it seems. But that was nothing but nonsense; it is only this evening that he has revealed his passion.”
+
+“The king shows his good taste,” said Madame; “in my opinion she is a very charming girl.”
+
+“I verily believe you are jesting.”
+
+“I! in what way?”
+
+“In any case this passion will make some one very happy, even if it be only La Valliere herself.”
+
+“Really,” continued the princess, “you speak as if you had read into the inmost recesses of La Valliere’s heart. Who has told you that she agrees to return the king’s affection?”
+
+“And who has told you that she will not return it?”
+
+“She loves the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“You think so?”
+
+“She is even affianced to him.”
+
+“She was so.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“When they went to ask the king’s permission to arrange the marriage, he refused his permission.”
+
+“Refused?”
+
+“Yes, although the request was preferred by the Comte de la Fere himself, for whom the king has the greatest regard, on account of the part he took in your royal brother’s restoration, and in other events, also, which happened a long time ago.”
+
+“Well! the poor lovers must wait until the king is pleased to change his opinion; they are young, and there is time enough.”
+
+“But, dear me,” said Philip, laughing, “I perceive you do not know the best part of the affair.”
+
+“No!”
+
+“That by which the king was most deeply touched.”
+
+“The king, do you say, has been deeply touched?”
+
+“To the very quick of his heart.”
+
+“But how? -- in what manner? -- tell me directly.”
+
+“By an adventure, the romance of which cannot be equalled.”
+
+“You know how I love to hear of such adventures, and yet you keep me waiting,” said the princess, impatiently.
+
+“Well, then -- ” and Monsieur paused.
+
+“I am listening.”
+
+“Under the royal oak -- you know where the royal oak is?”
+
+“What can that matter? Under the royal oak, you were saying?”
+
+“Well! Mademoiselle de la Valliere, fancying herself to be alone with her two friends, revealed to them her affection for the king.”
+
+“Ah!” said Madame, beginning to be uneasy, “her affection for the king?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“When was this?”
+
+“About an hour ago.”
+
+Madame started, and then said, “And no one knew of this affection?”
+
+“No one.”
+
+“Not even his majesty?”
+
+“Not even his majesty. The artful little puss kept her secret strictly to herself, when suddenly it proved stronger than herself, and so escaped her.”
+
+“And from whom did you get this absurd tale?”
+
+“Why, as everybody else did, from La Valliere herself, who confessed her love to Montalais and Tonnay-Charente, who were her companions.”
+
+Madame stopped suddenly, and by a hasty movement let go her husband’s hand.
+
+“Did you say it was an hour ago she made this confession?” Madame inquired.
+
+“About that time.”
+
+“Is the king aware of it?”
+
+“Why, that is the very thing which constitutes the perfect romance of the affair, for the king was behind the royal oak with Saint-Aignan, and heard the whole of the interesting conversation without losing a single word of it.”
+
+Madame felt struck to the heart, saying incautiously, “But I have seen the king since, and he never told me a word about it.”
+
+“Of course,” said Monsieur; “he took care not to speak of it to you himself, since he recommended every one not to say a word about it.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said Madame, growing angry.
+
+“I mean that they wished to keep you in ignorance of the affair altogether.”
+
+“But why should they wish to conceal it from me?”
+
+“From the fear that your friendship for the young queen might induce you to say something about it to her, nothing more.”
+
+Madame hung down her head; her feelings were grievously wounded. She could not enjoy a moment’s repose until she had met the king. As a king is, most naturally, the very last person in his kingdom who knows what is said about him, in the same way that a lover is the only one who is kept in ignorance of what is said about his mistress, therefore, when the king perceived Madame, who was looking for him, he approached her in some perturbation, but still gracious and attentive in his manner. Madame waited for him to speak about La Valliere first; but as he did not speak of her, she said, “And the poor girl?”
+
+“What poor girl?” said the king.
+
+“La Valliere. Did you not tell me, sire, that she had fainted?”
+
+“She is still very ill,” said the king, affecting the greatest indifference.
+
+“But surely that will prejudicially affect the rumor you were going to spread, sire?”
+
+“What rumor?”
+
+“That your attention was taken up by her.”
+
+“Oh!” said the king, carelessly, “I trust it will be reported all the same.”
+
+Madame still waited; she wished to know if the king would speak to her of the adventure of the royal oak. But the king did not say a word about it. Madame, on her side, did not open her lips about it; so that the king took leave of her without having reposed the slightest confidence in her. Hardly had she watched the king move away, than she set out in search of Saint-Aignan. Saint-Aignan was never very difficult to find; he was like the smaller vessels that always follow in the wake of, and as tenders to, the larger ships. Saint-Aignan was the very man whom Madame needed in her then state of mind. And as for him, he only looked for worthier ears than others he had found to have an opportunity of recounting the event in all its details. And so he did not spare Madame a single word of the whole affair. When he had finished, Madame said to him, “Confess, now, that is his all a charming invention.”
+
+“Invention, no; a true story, yes.”
+
+“Confess, whether invention or true story, that it was told to you as you have told it to me, but that you were not there.”
+
+“Upon my honor, Madame, I was there.”
+
+“And you think that these confessions may have made an impression on the king?”
+
+“Certainly, as those of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did upon me,” replied Saint-Aignan; “do not forget, Madame, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere compared the king to the sun; that was flattering enough.”
+
+“The king does not permit himself to be influenced by such flatteries.”
+
+“Madame, the king is just as much Adonis as Apollo; and I saw plain enough just now when La Valliere fell into his arms.”
+
+“La Valliere fell into the king’s arms!”
+
+“Oh! it was the most graceful picture possible; just imagine, La Valliere had fallen back fainting, and -- ”
+
+“Well! what did you see? -- tell me -- speak!”
+
+“I saw what ten other people saw at the same time as myself; I saw that when La Valliere fell into his arms, the king almost fainted himself.”
+
+Madame smothered a subdued cry, the only indication of her smothered anger.
+
+“Thank you,” she said, laughing in a convulsive manner, “you relate stories delightfully, M. de Saint-Aignan.” And she hurried away, alone, and almost suffocated by painful emotion, towards the chateau.
+
+Chapter XLIV. Courses de Nuit.
+
+Monsieur quitted the princess in the best possible humor, and feeling greatly fatigued, retired to his apartments, leaving every one to finish the night as he chose. When in his room, Monsieur began to dress for the night with careful attention, which displayed itself from time to time in paroxysms of satisfaction. While his attendants were engaged in curling his hair, he sang the principal airs of the ballet which the violins had played, and to which the king had danced. He then summoned his tailors, inspected his costumes for the next day, and, in token of his extreme satisfaction, distributed various presents among them. As, however, the Chevalier de Lorraine, who had seen the prince return to the chateau, entered the room, Monsieur overwhelmed him with kindness. The former, after having saluted the prince, remained silent for a moment, like a sharpshooter who deliberates before deciding in what direction he will renew his fire; then, seeming to make up his mind, he said, “Have you remarked a very singular coincidence, monseigneur?”
+
+“No; what is it?”
+
+“The bad reception which his majesty, in appearance, gave the Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“In appearance?”
+
+“Yes, certainly; since, in reality, he has restored him to favor.”
+
+“I did not notice it,” said the prince.
+
+“What, did you not remark, that, instead of ordering him to go away again into exile, as was natural, he encouraged him in his opposition by permitting him to resume his place in the ballet?”
+
+“And you think the king was wrong, chevalier?” said the prince.
+
+“Are you not of my opinion, prince?”
+
+“Not altogether so, my dear chevalier; and I think the king was quite right not to have made a disturbance against a poor fellow whose want of judgment is more to be complained of than his intention.”
+
+“Really,” said the chevalier, “as far as I am concerned, I confess that this magnanimity astonishes me to the highest degree.”
+
+“Why so?” inquired Philip.
+
+“Because I should have thought the king had been more jealous,” replied the chevalier, spitefully. During the last few minutes Monsieur had felt there was something of an irritating nature concealed under his favorite’s remarks; this last word, however, ignited the powder.
+
+“Jealous!” exclaimed the prince. “Jealous! what do you mean? Jealous of what, if you please -- or jealous of whom?”
+
+The chevalier perceived that he had allowed an excessively mischievous remark to escape him, as he was in the habit of doing. He endeavored, therefore, apparently to recall it while it was still possible to do so. “Jealous of his authority,” he said, with an assumed frankness; “of what else would you have the king jealous?”
+
+“Ah!” said the prince, “that’s very proper.”
+
+“Did your royal highness,” continued the chevalier, “solicit dear De Guiche’s pardon?”
+
+“No, indeed,” said Monsieur. “De Guiche is an excellent fellow, and full of courage; but as I do not approve of his conduct with Madame, I wish him neither harm nor good.”
+
+The chevalier had assumed a bitterness with regard to De Guiche, as he had attempted to do with regard to the king; but he thought he perceived that the time for indulgence, and even for the utmost indifference, had arrived, and that, in order to throw some light on the question, it might be necessary for him to put the lamp, as the saying is, beneath the husband’s very nose.
+
+“Very well, very well,” said the chevalier to himself, “I must wait for De Wardes; he will do more in one day than I in a month; for I verily believe he is even more envious than I. Then, again, it is not De Wardes I require so much as that some event or another should happen; and in the whole of this affair I see none. That De Guiche returned after he had been sent away is certainly serious enough, but all its seriousness disappears when I learn that De Guiche has returned at the very moment Madame troubles herself no longer about him. Madame, in fact, is occupied with the king, that is clear; but she will not be so much longer if, as it is asserted, the king has ceased to trouble his head about her. The moral of the whole matter is, to remain perfectly neutral, and await the arrival of some new caprice and let that decide the whole affair.” And the chevalier thereupon settled himself resignedly in the armchair in which Monsieur permitted him to seat himself in his presence, and, having no more spiteful or malicious remarks to make, the consequence was that De Lorraine’s wit seemed to have deserted him. Most fortunately Monsieur was in high good-humor, and he had enough for two, until the time arrived for dismissing his servants and gentlemen of the chamber, and he passed into his sleeping-apartment. As he withdrew, he desired the chevalier to present his compliments to Madame, and say that, as the night was cool, Monsieur, who was afraid of the toothache, would not venture out again into the park during the remainder of the evening. The chevalier entered the princess’s apartments at the very moment she came in herself. He acquitted himself faithfully of the commission intrusted to him, and, in the first place, remarked all the indifference and annoyance with which Madame received her husband’s communication -- a circumstance which appeared to him fraught with something fresh. If Madame had been about to leave her apartments with that strangeness of manner, he would have followed her; but she was returning to them; there was nothing to be done, therefore he turned upon his heel like an unemployed heron, appearing to question earth, air, and water about it; shook his head, and walked away mechanically in the direction of the gardens. He had hardly gone a hundred paces when he met two young men, walking arm in arm, with their heads bent down, and idly kicking the small stones out of their path as they walked on, plunged in thought. It was De Guiche and De Bragelonne, the sight of whom, as it always did, produced upon the chevalier, instinctively, a feeling of repugnance. He did not, however, the less, on that account, salute them with a very low bow, which they returned with interest. Then, observing that the park was nearly deserted, that the illuminations began to burn out, and that the morning breeze was setting in, he turned to the left, and entered the chateau again, by one of the smaller courtyards. The others turned aside to the right, and continued on their way towards the large park. As the chevalier was ascending the side staircase, which led to the private entrance, he saw a woman, followed by another, make her appearance under the arcade which led from the small to the large courtyard. The two women walked so fast that the rustling of their dresses could be distinguished through the silence of the night. The style of their mantles, their graceful figures, a mysterious yet haughty carriage which distinguished them both, especially the one who walked first, struck the chevalier.
+
+“I certainly know those two,” he said to himself, pausing upon the top step of the small staircase. Then, as with the instinct of a bloodhound he was about to follow them, one of the servants who had been running after him arrested his attention.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said, “the courier has arrived.”
+
+“Very well,” said the chevalier, “there is time enough; to-morrow will do.”
+
+“There are some urgent letters which you would be glad to see, perhaps.”
+
+“Where from?” inquired the chevalier.
+
+“One from England, and the other from Calais; the latter arrived by express, and seems of great importance.”
+
+“From Calais! Who the deuce can have to write to me from Calais?”
+
+“I think I recognize the handwriting of Monsieur le Comte de Wardes.”
+
+“Oh!” cried the chevalier, forgetting his intention of acting the spy, “in that case I will come up at once.” This he did, while the two unknown beings disappeared at the end of the court opposite to the one by which they had just entered. We shall now follow them, and leave the chevalier undisturbed to his correspondence. When they had arrived at the grove of trees, the foremost of the two halted, somewhat out of breath, and, cautiously raising her hood, said, “Are we still far from the tree?”
+
+“Yes, Madame, more than five hundred paces; but pray rest awhile, you will not be able to walk much longer at this rate.”
+
+“You are right,” said the princes, for it was she; and she leaned against a tree. “And now,” she resumed, after having recovered her breath, “tell me the whole truth, and conceal nothing from me.”
+
+“Oh, Madame,” cried the young girl, “you are already angry with me.”
+
+“No, my dear Athenais, reassure yourself, I am in no way angry with you. After all, these things do not concern me personally. You are anxious about what you may have said under the oak; you are afraid of having offended the king, and I wish to tranquillize you by ascertaining myself if it were possible you could have been overheard.”
+
+“Oh, yes, Madame, the king was close to us.”
+
+“Still, you were not speaking so loud that some of your remarks may not have been lost.”
+
+“We thought we were quite alone, Madame.”
+
+“There were three of you, you say?”
+
+“Yes; La Valliere, Montalais, and myself.”
+
+“And you, individually, spoke in a light manner of the king?”
+
+“I am afraid so. Should such be the case, will your highness have the kindness to make my peace with his majesty?”
+
+“If there should be any occasion for it, I promise you I will do so. However, as I have already told you, it will be better not to anticipate evil. The night is now very dark, and the darkness is still greater under the trees. It is not likely you were recognized by the king. To inform him of it, by being the first to speak, is to denounce yourself.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, Madame! if Mademoiselle de la Valliere were recognized, I must have been recognized also. Besides, M. de Saint-Aignan left no doubt on the subject.”
+
+“Did you, then, say anything very disrespectful of the king?”
+
+“Not at all; it was one of the others who made some very flattering speeches about the king; and my remarks must have been much in contrast with hers.”
+
+“Montalais is such a giddy girl,” said Madame.
+
+“It was not Montalais. Montalais said nothing; it was La Valliere.”
+
+Madame started as if she had not known it perfectly well already. “No, no,” she said, “the king cannot have heard. Besides, we will now try the experiment for which we came out. Show me the oak. Do you know where it is?” she continued.
+
+“Alas! Madame, yes.”
+
+“And you can find it again?”
+
+“With my eyes shut.”
+
+“Very well; sit down on the bank where you were, where La Valliere was, and speak in the same tone and to the same effect as you did before; I will conceal myself in the thicket, and if I can hear you, I will tell you so.”
+
+“Yes, Madame.”
+
+“If, therefore, you really spoke loud enough for the king to have heard you, in that case -- ”
+
+Athenais seemed to await the conclusion of the sentence with some anxiety.
+
+“In that case,” said Madame, in a suffocated voice, arising doubtless from her hurried progress, “in that case, I forbid you -- ” And Madame again increased her pace. Suddenly, however, she stopped. “An idea occurs to me,” she said.
+
+“A good idea, no doubt, Madame,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“Montalais must be as much embarrassed as La Valliere and yourself.”
+
+“Less so, for she is less compromised, having said less.”
+
+“That does not matter; she will help you, I dare say, by deviating a little from the exact truth.”
+
+“Especially if she knows that your highness is kind enough to interest yourself about me.”
+
+“Very well, I think I have discovered what it is best for you all to pretend.”
+
+“How delightful.”
+
+“You had better say that all three of you were perfectly well aware that the king was behind the tree, or behind the thicket, whichever it might have been; and that you knew M. de Saint-Aignan was there too.”
+
+“Yes, Madame.”
+
+“For you cannot disguise it from yourself, Athenais, Saint-Aignan takes advantage of some very flattering remarks you made about him.”
+
+“Well, Madame, you see very clearly that one can be overheard,” cried Athenais, “since M. de Saint-Aignan overheard us.”
+
+Madame bit her lips, for she had thoughtlessly committed herself. “Oh, you know Saint-Aignan’s character very well,” she said, “the favor the king shows him almost turns his brain, and he talks at random; not only so, he very often invents. That is not the question; the fact remains, did or did not the king overhear?”
+
+“Oh, yes, Madame, he certainly did,” said Athenais, in despair.
+
+“In that case, do what I said: maintain boldly that all three of you knew -- mind, all three of you, for if there is a doubt about any one of you, there will be a doubt about all, -- persist, I say, that you knew that the king and M. de Saint-Aignan were there, and that you wished to amuse yourself at the expense of those who were listening.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, at the king’s expense; we shall never dare say that!”
+
+“It is a simple jest; an innocent deception readily permitted in young girls whom men wish to take by surprise. In this manner everything explains itself. What Montalais said of Malicorne, a mere jest; what you said of M. de Saint-Aignan, a mere jest too; and what La Valliere might have said of -- ”
+
+“And which she would have given anything to recall.”
+
+“Are you sure of that?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Very well, an additional reason. Say the whole affair was a mere joke. M. de Malicorne will have no occasion to get out of temper; M. de Saint-Aignan will be completely put out of countenance; he will be laughed at instead of you; and lastly, the king will be punished for a curiosity unworthy of his rank. Let people laugh a little at the king in this affair, and I do not think he will complain of it.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, you are indeed an angel of goodness and sense!”
+
+“It is to my own advantage.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“How can you ask me why it is to my advantage to spare my maids of honor the remarks, annoyances, perhaps even calumnies, that might follow? Alas! you well know that the court has no indulgence for this sort of peccadillo. But we have now been walking for some time, shall we be long before we reach it?”
+
+“About fifty or sixty paces further; turn to the left, Madame, if you please.”
+
+“And you are sure of Montalais?” said Madame.
+
+“Oh, certainly.”
+
+“Will she do what you ask her?”
+
+“Everything. She will be delighted.”
+
+“And La Valliere -- ” ventured the princess.
+
+“Ah, there will be some difficulty with her, Madame; she would scorn to tell a falsehood.”
+
+“Yet, when it is in her interest to do so -- ”
+
+“I am afraid that that would not make the slightest difference in her ideas.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Madame. “I have been already told that; she is one of those overnice and affectedly particular people who place heaven in the foreground in order to conceal themselves behind it. But if she refuses to tell a falsehood, -- as she will expose herself to the jests of the whole court, as she will have annoyed the king by a confession as ridiculous as it was immodest, -- Mademoiselle la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere will think it but proper I should send her back again to her pigeons in the country, in order that, in Touraine yonder, or in Le Blaisois, -- I know not where it may be, -- she may at her ease study sentiment and pastoral life combined.”
+
+These words were uttered with a vehemence and harshness that terrified Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; and the consequence was, that, as far as she was concerned, she promised to tell as many falsehoods as might be necessary. It was in this frame of mind that Madame and her companion reached the precincts of the royal oak.
+
+“Here we are,” said Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“We shall soon learn if one can overhear,” replied Madame.
+
+“Hush!” whispered the young girl, holding Madame back with a hurried gesture, entirely forgetful of her companion’s rank. Madame stopped.
+
+“You see that you can hear,” said Athenais.
+
+“How?”
+
+“Listen.”
+
+Madame held her breath; and, in fact, the following words pronounced by a gentle and melancholy voice, floated towards them:
+
+“I tell you, vicomte, I tell you I love her madly; I tell you I love her to distraction.”
+
+Madame started at the voice; and, beneath her hood, a bright joyous smile illumined her features. It was she who now held back her companion, and with a light step leading her some twenty paces away, that is to say, out of the reach of the voice, she said, “Remain here, my dear Athenais, and let no one surprise us. I think it must be you they are conversing about.”
+
+“Me, Madame?”
+
+“Yes, you -- or rather your adventure. I will go and listen; if we were both there, we should be discovered. Or, stay! -- go and fetch Montalais, and then return and wait for me with her at the entrance of the forest.” And then, as Athenais hesitated, she again said “Go!” in a voice which did not admit of reply. Athenais thereupon arranged her dress so as to prevent its rustling being heard; and, by a path beyond the group of trees, she regained the flower-garden. As for Madame, she concealed herself in the thicket, leaning her back against a gigantic chestnut-tree, one of the branches of which had been cut in such a manner as to form a seat, and waited there, full of anxiety and apprehension. “Now,” she said, “since one can hear from this place, let us listen to what M. de Bragelonne and that other madly-in-love fool, the Comte de Guiche, have to say about me.”
+
+Chapter XLV. In Which Madame Acquires a Proof that Listeners Hear What Is Said.
+
+There was a moment’s silence, as if the mysterious sounds of night were hushed to listen, at the same time as Madame, to the youthful passionate disclosures of De Guiche.
+
+Raoul was about to speak. He leaned indolently against the trunk of the large oak, and replied in his sweet and musical voice, “Alas, my dear De Guiche, it is a great misfortune.”
+
+“Yes,” cried the latter, “great indeed.”
+
+“You do not understand me, De Guiche. I say that it is a great misfortune for you, not merely loving, but not knowing how to conceal your love.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said De Guiche.
+
+“Yes, you do not perceive one thing; namely, that it is no longer to the only friend you have, -- in other words, -- to a man who would rather die than betray you; you do not perceive, I say, that it is no longer to your only friend that you confide your passion, but to the first person that approaches you.”
+
+“Are you mad, Bragelonne,” exclaimed De Guiche, “to say such a thing to me?”
+
+“The fact stands thus, however.”
+
+“Impossible! How, in what manner can I have ever been indiscreet to such an extent?”
+
+“I mean, that your eyes, your looks, your sighs, proclaim, in spite of yourself, that exaggerated feeling which leads and hurries a man beyond his own control. In such a case he ceases to be master of himself; he is a prey to a mad passion, that makes him confide his grief to the trees, or to the air, from the very moment he has no longer any living being in reach of his voice. Besides, remember this: it very rarely happens that there is not always some one present to hear, especially the very things which ought not to be heard.” De Guiche uttered a deep sigh. “Nay,” continued Bragelonne, “you distress me; since your return here, you have a thousand times, and in a thousand different ways, confessed your love for her; and yet, had you not said one word, your return alone would have been a terrible indiscretion. I persist, then, in drawing this conclusion; that if you do not place a better watch over yourself than you have hitherto done, one day or other something will happen that will cause an explosion. Who will save you then? Answer me. Who will save her? for, innocent as she will be of your affection, your affection will be an accusation against her in the hands of her enemies.”
+
+“Alas!” murmured De Guiche; and a deep sigh accompanied the exclamation.
+
+“That is not answering me, De Guiche.”
+
+“Yes, yes.”
+
+“Well, what reply have you to make?”
+
+“This, that when the day arrives I shall be no more a living being than I feel myself now.”
+
+“I do not understand you.”
+
+“So many vicissitudes have worn me out. At present, I am no more a thinking, acting being; at present, the most worthless of men is better than I am; my remaining strength is exhausted, my latest-formed resolutions have vanished, and I abandon myself to my fate. When a man is out campaigning, as we have been together, and he sets off alone and unaccompanied for a skirmish, it sometimes happens that he may meet with a party of five or six foragers, and although alone, he defends himself; afterwards, five or six others arrive unexpectedly, his anger is aroused and he persists; but if six, eight, or ten others should still be met with, he either sets spurs to his horse, if he should still happen to retain one, or lets himself be slain to save an ignominious flight. Such, indeed, is my own case: first, I had to struggle against myself; afterwards, against Buckingham; now, since the king is in the field, I will not contend against the king, nor even, I wish you to understand, will the king retire; nor even against the nature of that woman. Still I do not deceive myself; having devoted myself to the service of such a love, I will lose my life in it.”
+
+“It is not the lady you ought to reproach,” replied Raoul; “it is yourself.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“You know the princess’s character, -- somewhat giddy, easily captivated by novelty, susceptible to flattery, whether it come from a blind person or a child, and yet you allow your passion for her to eat your very life away. Look at her, -- love her, if you will, -- for no one whose heart is not engaged elsewhere can see her without loving her. Yet, while you love her, respect, in the first place, her husband’s rank, then herself, and lastly, your own safety.”
+
+“Thanks, Raoul.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Because, seeing how much I suffer through this woman, you endeavor to console me, because you tell me all the good of her you think, and perhaps even that which you do not think.”
+
+“Oh,” said Raoul, “there you are wrong, comte; what I think I do not always say, but in that case I say nothing; but when I speak, I know not how to feign or to deceive; and whoever listens to me may believe me.”
+
+During this conversation, Madame, her head stretched forward with eager ear and dilated glance, endeavoring to penetrate the obscurity, thirstily drank in the faintest sound of their voices.
+
+“Oh, I know her better than you do, then!” exclaimed Guiche. “She is not merely giddy, but frivolous; she is not only attracted by novelty, she is utterly oblivious, and is without faith; she is not simply susceptible to flattery, she is a practiced and cruel coquette. A thorough coquette! yes, yes, I am sure of it. Believe me, Bragelonne, I am suffering all the torments of hell; brave, passionately fond of danger, I meet a danger greater than my strength and my courage. But, believe me, Raoul, I reserve for myself a victory which shall cost her floods of tears.”
+
+“A victory,” he asked, “and of what kind?”
+
+“Of what kind, you ask?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“One day I will accost her, and will address her thus: ‘I was young -- madly in love, I possessed, however, sufficient respect to throw myself at your feet, and to prostrate myself in the dust, if your looks had not raised me to your hand. I fancied I understood your looks, I rose, and then, without having done anything more towards you than love you yet more devotedly, if that were possible -- you, a woman without heart, faith, or love, in very wantonness, dashed me down again from sheer caprice. You are unworthy, princess of the royal blood though you may be, of the love of a man of honor; I offer my life as a sacrifice for having loved you too tenderly, and I die despairing you.’”
+
+“Oh!” cried Raoul, terrified at the accents of profound truth which De Guiche’s words betrayed, “I was right in saying you were mad, Guiche.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” exclaimed De Guiche, following out his own idea; “since there are no wars here now, I will flee yonder to the north, seek service in the Empire, where some Hungarian, or Croat, or Turk, will perhaps kindly put me out of my misery.” De Guiche did not finish, or rather as he finished, a sound made him start, and at the same moment caused Raoul to leap to his feet. As for De Guiche, buried in his own thoughts, he remained seated, with his head tightly pressed between his hands. The branches of the tree were pushed aside, and a woman, pale and much agitated, appeared before the two young men. With one hand she held back the branches, which would have struck her face, and, with the other, she raised the hood of the mantle which covered her shoulders. By her clear and lustrous glance, by her lofty carriage, by her haughty attitude, and, more than all that, by the throbbing of his own heart, De Guiche recognized Madame, and, uttering a loud cry, he removed his hands from his temple, and covered his eyes with them. Raoul, trembling and out of countenance, merely muttered a few words of respect.
+
+“Monsieur de Bragelonne,” said the princess, “have the goodness, I beg, to see if my attendants are not somewhere yonder, either in the walks or in the groves; and you, M. de Guiche, remain here: I am tired, and you will perhaps give me your arm.”
+
+Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of the unhappy young man, he would have been less terrified than by her cold and severe tone. However, as he himself had just said, he was brave; and as in the depths of his own heart he had just decisively made up his mind, De Guiche arose, and, observing Bragelonne’s hesitation, he turned towards him a glance full of resignation and grateful acknowledgement. Instead of immediately answering Madame, he even advanced a step towards the vicomte, and holding out the arm which the princess had just desired him to give her, he pressed his friend’s hand in his own, with a sigh, in which he seemed to give to friendship all the life that was left in the depths of his heart. Madame, who in her pride had never known what it was to wait, now waited until this mute colloquy was at an end. Her royal hand remained suspended in the air, and, when Raoul had left, it sank without anger, but not without emotion, in that of De Guiche. They were alone in the depths of the dark and silent forest, and nothing could be heard but Raoul’s hastily retreating footsteps along the obscure paths. Over their heads was extended the thick and fragrant vault of branches, through the occasional openings of which the stars could be seen glittering in their beauty. Madame softly drew De Guiche about a hundred paces away from that indiscreet tree which had heard, and had allowed so many things to be heard, during the evening, and, leading him to a neighboring glade, so that they could see a certain distance around them, she said in a trembling voice, “I have brought you here, because yonder where you were, everything can be overheard.”
+
+“Everything can be overheard, did you say, Madame?” replied the young man, mechanically.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Which means -- ” murmured De Guiche.
+
+“Which means that I have heard every syllable you have said.”
+
+“Oh, Heaven! this only was wanting to destroy me,” stammered De Guiche; and he bent down his head, like an exhausted swimmer beneath the wave which engulfs him.
+
+“And so,” she said, “you judge me as you have said?” De Guiche grew pale, turned his head aside, and was silent. He felt almost on the point of fainting.
+
+“I do not complain,” continued the princess, in a tone of voice full of gentleness; “I prefer a frankness that wounds me, to flattery, which would deceive me. And so, according to your opinion, M. de Guiche, I am a coquette, an a worthless creature.”
+
+“Worthless,” cried the young man; “you worthless! Oh, no; most certainly I did not say, I could not have said, that that which was the most precious object in life for me could be worthless. No, no; I did not say that.”
+
+“A woman who sees a man perish, consumed by the fire she has kindled, and who does not allay that fire, is, in my opinion, a worthless woman.”
+
+“What can it matter to you what I said?” returned the comte. “What am I compared to you, and why should you even trouble yourself to know whether I exist or not?”
+
+“Monsieur de Guiche, both you and I are human beings, and, knowing you as I do, I do not wish you to risk your life; with you I will change my conduct and character. I will be, not frank, for I am always so, but truthful. I implore you, therefore, to love me no more, and to forget utterly that I have ever addressed a word or a glance towards you.”
+
+De Guiche turned around, bending a look full of passionate devotion upon her. “You,” he said; “you excuse yourself; you implore me?”
+
+“Certainly; since I have done evil, I ought to repair the evil I have done. And so, comte, this is what we will agree to. You will forgive my frivolity and my coquetry. Nay, do not interrupt me. I will forgive you for having said I was frivolous and a coquette, or something worse, perhaps; and you will renounce your idea of dying, and will preserve for your family, for the king, and for our sex, a cavalier whom every one esteems, and whom many hold dear.” Madame pronounced this last word in such an accent of frankness, and even of tenderness, that poor De Guiche’s heart felt almost bursting.
+
+“Oh! Madame, Madame!” he stammered out.
+
+“Nay, listen further,” she continued. “When you shall have renounced all thought of me forever, from necessity in the first place, and, next, because you will yield to my entreaty, then you will judge me more favorably, and I am convinced you will replace this love -- forgive the frivolity of the expression -- by a sincere friendship, which you will be ready to offer me, and which, I promise you, shall be cordially accepted.”
+
+De Guiche, his forehead bedewed with perspiration, a feeling of death in his heart, and a trembling agitation through his whole frame, bit his lip, stamped his foot on the ground, and, in a word, devoured the bitterness of his grief. “Madame,” he said, “what you offer is impossible, and I cannot accept such conditions.”
+
+“What!” said Madame, “do you refuse my friendship, then?”
+
+“No, no! I do not need your friendship, Madame. I prefer to die from love, than to live for friendship.”
+
+“Comte!”
+
+“Oh! Madame,” cried De Guiche, “the present is a moment for me, in which no other consideration and no other respect exist, than the consideration and respect of a man of honor towards the woman he worships. Drive me away, curse me, denounce me, you will be perfectly right. I have uttered complaints against you, but their bitterness has been owing to my passion for you; I have said I wish to die, and die I will. If I lived, you would forget me; but dead, you would never forget me, I am sure.”
+
+Henrietta, who was standing buried in thought, and nearly as agitated as De Guiche himself, turned aside her head as but a minute before he had turned aside his. Then, after a moment’s pause, she said, “And you love me, then, very much?”
+
+“Madly; madly enough to die from it, whether you drive me from you, or whether you listen to me still.”
+
+“It is a hopeless case,” she said, in a playful manner; “a case which must be treated with soothing application. Give me your hand. It is as cold as ice.” De Guiche knelt down, and pressed to his lips, not one, but both of Madame’s hands.
+
+“Love me, then,” said the princess, “since it cannot be otherwise.” And almost imperceptibly she pressed his fingers, raising him thus, partly in the manner of a queen, and partly as a fond and affectionate woman would have done. De Guiche trembled from head to foot, and Madame, who felt how passion coursed through every fiber of his being, knew that he indeed loved truly. “Give me your arm, comte,” she said, “and let us return.”
+
+“Ah! Madame,” said the comte, trembling and bewildered; “you have discovered a third way of killing me.”
+
+“But, happily, it is the slowest way, is it not?” she replied, as she led him towards the grove of trees they had so lately quitted.
+
+Chapter XLVI. Aramis’s Correspondence.
+
+When De Guiche’s affairs, which had been suddenly set to right without his having been able to guess the cause of their improvement, assumed the unexpected aspect we have seen, Raoul, in obedience to the request of the princess, had withdrawn in order not to interrupt an explanation, the results of which he was far from guessing; and he soon after joined the ladies of honor who were walking about in the flower-gardens. During this time, the Chevalier de Lorraine, who had returned to his own room, read De Wardes’s latter with surprise, for it informed him by the hand of his valet, of the sword-thrust received at Calais, and of all the details of the adventure, and invited him to inform De Guiche and Monsieur, whatever there might be in the affair likely to be most disagreeable to both of them. De Wardes particularly endeavored to prove to the chevalier the violence of Madame’s affection for Buckingham, and he finished his letter by declaring that he thought this feeling was returned. The chevalier shrugged his shoulders at the last paragraph, and, in fact, De Wardes was out of date, as we have seen. De Wardes was still only at Buckingham’s affair. The chevalier threw the letter over his shoulder upon an adjoining table, and said in a disdainful tone, “It is really incredible; and yet poor De Wardes is not deficient in ability; but the truth is, it is not very apparent, so easy is it to grow rusty in the country. The deuce take the simpleton, who ought to have written to me about matters of importance, and yet he writes such silly stuff as that. If it had not been for that miserable letter, which has no meaning at all in it, I should have detected in the grove yonder a charming little intrigue, which would have compromised a woman, would have perhaps have been as good as a sword-thrust for a man, and have diverted Monsieur for many days to come.”
+
+He looked at his watch. “It is now too late,” he said. “One o’clock in the morning; every one must have returned to the king’s apartments, where the night is to be finished; well, the scent is lost, and unless some extraordinary chance -- ” And thus saying, as if to appeal to his good star, the chevalier, greatly out of temper, approached the window, which looked out upon a somewhat solitary part of the garden. Immediately, and as if some evil genius was at his orders, he perceived returning towards the chateau, accompanied by a man, a silk mantle of a dark color, and recognized the figure which had struck his attention half an hour previously.
+
+“Admirable!” he thought, striking his hands together, “this is my providential mysterious affair.” And he started out precipitately, along the staircase, hoping to reach the courtyard in time to recognize the woman in the mantle, and her companion. But as he arrived at the door of the little court, he nearly knocked against Madame, whose radiant face seemed full of charming revelations beneath the mantle which protected without concealing her. Unfortunately, Madame was alone. The chevalier knew that since he had seen her, not five minutes before, with a gentleman, the gentleman in question could not be far off. Consequently, he hardly took time to salute the princess as he drew up to allow her to pass; then when she had advanced a few steps, with the rapidity of a woman who fears recognition, and when the chevalier perceived that she was too much occupied with her own thoughts to trouble herself about him, he darted into the garden, looked hastily round on every side, and embraced within his glance as much of the horizon as he possibly could. He was just in time; the gentleman who had accompanied Madame was still in sight; only he was hurrying towards one of the wings of the chateau, behind which he was on the point of disappearing. There was not an instant to lose; the chevalier darted in pursuit of him, prepared to slacken his pace as he approached the unknown; but in spite of the diligence he used, the unknown had disappeared behind the flight of steps before he approached.
+
+It was evident, however, that as the man pursued was walking quietly, in a pensive manner, with his head bent down, either beneath the weight of grief or happiness, when once the angle was passed, unless, indeed, he were to enter by some door or another, the chevalier could not fail to overtake him. And this, certainly, would have happened, if, at the very moment he turned the angle, the chevalier had not run against two persons, who were themselves wheeling in the opposite direction. The chevalier was ready to seek a quarrel with these two troublesome intruders, when, looking up, he recognized the superintendent. Fouquet was accompanied by a person whom the chevalier now saw for the first time. This stranger was the bishop of Vannes. Checked by the important character of the individual, and obliged out of politeness to make his own excuses when he expected to receive them, the chevalier stepped back a few paces; and as Monsieur Fouquet possessed, if not the friendship, at least the respect of every one; as the king himself, although he was rather his enemy than his friend, treated M. Fouquet as a man of great consideration, the chevalier did what the king himself would have done, namely, he bowed to M. Fouquet, who returned his salutation with kindly politeness, perceiving that the gentleman had run against him by mistake and without any intention of being rude. Then, almost immediately afterwards, having recognized the Chevalier de Lorraine, he made a few civil remarks, to which the chevalier was obliged to reply. Brief as the conversation was, De Lorraine saw, with the most unfeigned displeasure, the figure of his unknown becoming dimmer in the distance, and fast disappearing in the darkness. The chevalier resigned himself, and, once resigned, gave his entire attention to Fouquet: -- “You arrive late, monsieur,” he said. “Your absence has occasioned great surprise, and I heard Monsieur express himself as much astonished that, having been invited by the king, you had not come.”
+
+“It was impossible for me to do so; but I came as soon as I was free.”
+
+“Is Paris quiet?”
+
+“Perfectly so. Paris has received the last tax very well.”
+
+“Ah! I understand you wished to assure yourself of this good feeling before you came to participate in our fetes.”
+
+“I have arrived, however, somewhat late to enjoy them. I will ask you, therefore, to inform me if the king is in the chateau or not, if I am likely to be able to see him this evening, or if I shall have to wait until to-morrow.”
+
+“We have lost sight of his majesty during the last half-hour nearly,” said the chevalier.
+
+“Perhaps he is in Madame’s apartments?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“Not in Madame’s apartments, I should think, for I just now met Madame as she was entering by the small staircase; and unless the gentleman whom you a moment ago encountered was the king himself -- ” and the chevalier paused, hoping that, in this manner, he might learn who it was he had been hurrying after. But Fouquet, whether he had or had not recognized De Guiche, simply replied, “No, monsieur, it was not the king.”
+
+The chevalier, disappointed in his expectation, saluted them; but as he did so, casting a parting glance around him, and perceiving M. Colbert in the center of a group, he said to the superintendent: “Stay, monsieur; there is some one under the trees yonder, who will be able to inform you better than myself.”
+
+“Who?” asked Fouquet, whose near-sightedness prevented him from seeing through the darkness.
+
+“M. Colbert,” returned the chevalier.
+
+“Indeed! That person, then, who is speaking yonder to those men with torches in their hands, is M. Colbert?”
+
+“M. Colbert himself. He is giving orders personally to the workmen who are arranging the lamps for the illuminations.”
+
+“Thank you,” said Fouquet, with an inclination of the head, which indicated that he had obtained all the information he wished. The chevalier, on his side, having, on the contrary, learned nothing at all, withdrew with a profound salutation.
+
+He had scarcely left when Fouquet, knitting his brows, fell into a deep reverie. Aramis looked at him for a moment with a mingled feeling of compassion and silence.
+
+“What!” he said to him, “the fellow’s name alone seemed to affect you. Is it possible that, full of triumph and delight as you were just now, the sight merely of that man is capable of dispiriting you? Tell me, have you faith in your good star?”
+
+“No,” replied Fouquet, dejectedly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because I am too full of happiness at this present moment,” he replied, in a trembling voice. “You, my dear D’Herblay, who are so learned, will remember the history of a certain tyrant of Samos. What can I throw into the sea to avert approaching evil? Yes! I repeat it once more, I am too full of happiness! so happy that I wish for nothing beyond what I have... I have risen so high... You know my motto: ‘Quo non ascendam?’ I have risen so high that nothing is left me but to descend from my elevation. I cannot believe in the progress of a success already more than human.”
+
+Aramis smiled as he fixed his kind and penetrating glance upon him. “If I were aware of the cause of your happiness,” he said, “I should probably fear for your grace; but you regard me in the light of a true friend; I mean, you turn to me in misfortune, nothing more. Even that is an immense and precious boon, I know; but the truth is, I have a just right to beg you to confide in me, from time to time, any fortunate circumstances that befall you, in which I should rejoice, you know, more than if they had befallen myself.”
+
+“My dear prelate,” said Fouquet, laughing, “my secrets are of too profane a character to confide them to a bishop, however great a worldling he may be.”
+
+“Bah! in confession.”
+
+“Oh! I should blush too much if you were my confessor.” And Fouquet began to sigh. Aramis again looked at him without further betrayal of his thoughts than a placid smile.
+
+“Well,” he said, “discretion is a great virtue.”
+
+“Silence,” said Fouquet; “yonder venomous reptile has recognized us, and is crawling this way.”
+
+“Colbert?”
+
+“Yes; leave me, D’Herblay; I do not wish that fellow to see you with me, or he will take an aversion to you.”
+
+Aramis pressed his hand, saying, “What need have I of his friendship, while you are here?”
+
+“Yes, but I may not always be here,” replied Fouquet, dejectedly.
+
+“On that day, then, if that day should ever dawn,” said Aramis, tranquilly, “we will think over a means of dispensing with the friendship, or of braving the dislike of M. Colbert. But tell me, my dear Fouquet, instead of conversing with this reptile, as you did him the honor of styling him, a conversation the need for which I do not perceive, why do you not pay a visit, if not to the king, at least to Madame?”
+
+“To Madame,” said the superintendent, his mind occupied by his souvenirs. “Yes, certainly, to Madame.”
+
+“You remember,” continued Aramis, “that we have been told that Madame stands high in favor during the last two or three days. It enters into your policy, and forms part of our plans, that you should assiduously devote yourself to his majesty’s friends. It is a means of counteracting the growing influence of M. Colbert. Present yourself, therefore, as soon as possible to Madame, and, for our sakes, treat this ally with consideration.”
+
+“But,” said Fouquet, “are you quite sure that it is upon her that the king has his eyes fixed at the present moment?”
+
+“If the needle has turned, it must be since the morning. You know I have my police.”
+
+“Very well! I will go there at once, and, at all events, I shall have a means of introduction in the shape of a magnificent pair of antique cameos set with diamonds.”
+
+“I have seen them, and nothing could be more costly and regal.”
+
+At this moment they were interrupted by a servant followed by a courier. “For you, monseigneur,” said the courier aloud, presenting a letter to Fouquet.
+
+“For your grace,” said the lackey in a low tone, handing Aramis a letter. And as the lackey carried a torch in his hand, he placed himself between the superintendent and the bishop of Vannes, so that both of them could read at the same time. As Fouquet looked at the fine and delicate writing on the envelope, he started with delight. Those who love, or who are beloved, will understand his anxiety in the first place, and his happiness in the next. He hastily tore open the letter, which, however, contained only these words: “It is but an hour since I quitted you, it is an age since I told you how much I love you.” And that was all. Madame de Belliere had, in fact, left Fouquet about an hour previously, after having passed two days with him; and apprehensive lest his remembrance of her might be effaced for too long a period from the heart she regretted, she dispatched a courier to him as the bearer of this important communication. Fouquet kissed the letter, and rewarded the bearer with a handful of gold. As for Aramis, he, on his side, was engaged in reading, but with more coolness and reflection, the following letter:
+
+“The king has this evening been struck with a strange fancy; a woman loves him. He learned it accidentally, as he was listening to the conversation of this young girl with her companions; and his majesty has entirely abandoned himself to his new caprice. The girl’s name is Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and she is sufficiently pretty to warrant this caprice becoming a strong attachment. Beware of Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+There was not a word about Madame. Aramis slowly folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Fouquet was still delightedly inhaling the perfume of his epistle.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said Aramis, touching Fouquet’s arm.
+
+“Yes, what is it?” he asked.
+
+“An idea has just occurred to me. Are you acquainted with a young girl of the name of La Valliere?
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“Reflect a little.”
+
+“Ah! yes, I believe so; one of Madame’s maids of honor.”
+
+“That must be the one.”
+
+“Well, what then?”
+
+“Well, monseigneur, it is to that young girl that you must pay your visit this evening.”
+
+“Bah! why so?”
+
+“Nay, more than that, it is to her you must present your cameos.”
+
+“Nonsense.”
+
+“You know, monseigneur, that my advice is not to be regarded lightly.”
+
+“But this is unforeseen -- ”
+
+“That is my affair. Pay your court in due form, and without loss of time, to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. I will be your guarantee with Madame de Belliere that your devotion is altogether politic.”
+
+“What do you mean, my dear D’Herblay, and whose name have you just pronounced?”
+
+“A name which ought to convince you that, as I am so well informed about yourself, I may possibly be just as well informed about others. Pay your court, therefore, to La Valliere.”
+
+“I will pay my court to whomsoever you like,” replied Fouquet, his heart filled with happiness.
+
+“Come, come, descend again to the earth, traveler in the seventh heaven,” said Aramis; “M. Colbert is approaching. He has been recruiting while we were reading; see, how he is surrounded, praised, congratulated; he is decidedly becoming powerful.” In fact, Colbert was advancing, escorted by all the courtiers who remained in the gardens, every one of whom complimented him upon the arrangements of the fete: all of which so puffed him up that he could hardly contain himself.
+
+“If La Fontaine were here,” said Fouquet, smiling, “what an admirable opportunity for him to recite his fable of ‘The Frog that wanted to make itself as big as the Ox.’”
+
+Colbert arrived in the center of the circle blazing with light; Fouquet awaited his approach, unmoved and with a slightly mocking smile. Colbert smiled too; he had been observing his enemy during the last quarter of an hour, and had been approaching him gradually. Colbert’s smile was a presage of hostility.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, in a low tone of voice to the superintendent; “the scoundrel is going to ask you again for more millions to pay for his fireworks and his colored lamps.” Colbert was the first to salute them, and with an air which he endeavored to render respectful. Fouquet hardly moved his head.
+
+“Well, monseigneur, what do your eyes say? Have we shown our good taste?”
+
+“Perfect taste,” replied Fouquet, without permitting the slightest tone of raillery to be remarked in his words.
+
+“Oh!” said Colbert, maliciously, “you are treating us with indulgence. We are poor, we servants of the king, and Fontainebleau is no way to be compared as a residence with Vaux.”
+
+“Quite true,” replied Fouquet coolly.
+
+“But what can we do, monseigneur?” continued Colbert, “we have done our best on slender resources.”
+
+Fouquet made a gesture of assent.
+
+“But,” pursued Colbert, “it would be only a proper display of your magnificence, monseigneur, if you were to offer to his majesty a fete in your wonderful gardens -- in those gardens which have cost you sixty millions of francs.”
+
+“Seventy-two,” said Fouquet.
+
+“An additional reason,” returned Colbert; “it would, indeed, be truly magnificent.”
+
+“But do you suppose, monsieur, that his majesty would deign to accept my invitation?”
+
+“I have no doubt whatever of it,” cried Colbert, hastily; “I will guarantee that he does.”
+
+“You are exceedingly kind,” said Fouquet. “I may depend on it, then?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur; yes, certainly.”
+
+“Then I will consider the matter,” yawned Fouquet.
+
+“Accept, accept,” whispered Aramis, eagerly.
+
+“You will consider?” repeated Colbert.
+
+“Yes,” replied Fouquet; “in order to know what day I shall submit my invitation to the king.”
+
+“This very evening, monseigneur, this very evening.”
+
+“Agreed,” said the superintendent. “Gentlemen, I should wish to issue my invitations; but you know that wherever the king goes, the king is in his own palace; it is by his majesty, therefore, that you must be invited.” A murmur of delight immediately arose. Fouquet bowed and left.
+
+“Proud and dauntless man,” thought Colbert, “you accept, and yet you know it will cost you ten millions.”
+
+“You have ruined me,” whispered Fouquet, in a low tone, to Aramis.
+
+“I have saved you,” replied the latter, whilst Fouquet ascended the flight of steps and inquired whether the king was still visible.
+
+Chapter XLVII. The Orderly Clerk.
+
+The king, anxious to be again quite alone, in order to reflect well upon what was passing in his heart, had withdrawn to his own apartments, where M. de Saint-Aignan had, after his conversation with Madame, gone to meet him. This conversation has already been related. The favorite, vain of his twofold importance, and feeling that he had become, during the last two hours, the confidant of the king, began to treat the affairs of the court in a somewhat indifferent manner: and, from the position in which he had placed himself, or rather, where chance had placed him, he saw nothing but love and garlands of flowers around him. The king’s love for Madame, that of Madame for the king, that of Guiche for Madame, that of La Valliere for the king, that of Malicorne for Montalais, that of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente for himself, was not all this, truly, more than enough to turn the head of any courtier? Besides, Saint-Aignan was the model of courtiers, past, present, and to come; and, moreover, showed himself such an excellent narrator, and so discerningly appreciative that the king listened to him with an appearance of great interest, particularly when he described the excited manner with which Madame had sought for him to converse about the affair of Mademoiselle de la Valliere. While the king no longer experienced for Madame any remains of the passion he had once felt for her, there was, in this same eagerness of Madame to procure information about him, great gratification for his vanity, from which he could not free himself. He experienced this pleasure then, but nothing more, and his heart was not, for a single moment, alarmed at what Madame might, or might not, think of his adventure. When, however, Saint-Aignan had finished, the king, while preparing to retire to rest, asked, “Now, Saint-Aignan, you know what Mademoiselle de la Valliere is, do you not?”
+
+“Not only what she is, but what she will be.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that she is everything that woman can wish to be -- that is to say, beloved by your majesty; I mean, that she will be everything your majesty may wish her to be.”
+
+“That is not what I am asking. I do not wish to know what she is to-day, or what she will be to-morrow; as you have remarked, that is my affair. But tell me what others say of her.”
+
+“They say she is well conducted.”
+
+“Oh!” said the king, smiling, “that is mere report.”
+
+“But rare enough, at court, sire, to believe when it is spread.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right. Is she well born?”
+
+“Excellently; the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, and step-daughter of that good M. de Saint-Remy.”
+
+“Ah, yes! my aunt’s major-domo; I remember; and I remember now that I saw her as I passed through Blois. She was presented to the queens. I have even to reproach myself that I did not on that occasion pay her the attention she deserved.”
+
+“Oh, sire! I trust that your majesty will now repair time lost.”
+
+“And the report -- you tell me -- is, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere never had a lover.”
+
+“In any case, I do not think your majesty would be much alarmed at the rivalry.”
+
+“Yet, stay,” said the king, in a very serious tone of voice.
+
+“Your majesty?”
+
+“I remember.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“If she has no lover, she has, at least, a betrothed.”
+
+“A betrothed!”
+
+“What! Count, do you not know that?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You, the man who knows all the news?”
+
+“Your majesty will excuse me. You know this betrothed, then?”
+
+“Assuredly! his father came to ask me to sign the marriage contract: it is -- ” The king was about to pronounce the Vicomte de Bragelonne’s name, when he stopped, and knitted his brows.
+
+“It is -- ” repeated Saint-Aignan, inquiringly.
+
+“I don’t remember now,” replied Louis XIV., endeavoring to conceal an annoyance he had some trouble to disguise.
+
+“Can I put your majesty in the way?” inquired the Comte de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“No; for I no longer remember to whom I intended to refer; indeed, I only remember very indistinctly, that one of the maids of honor was to marry -- the name, however, has escaped me.”
+
+“Was it Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente he was going to marry?” inquired Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Very likely,” said the king.
+
+“In that case, the intended was M. de Montespan; but Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did not speak of it, it seemed to me, in such a manner as would frighten suitors away.”
+
+“At all events,” said the king, “I know nothing, or almost nothing, about Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Saint-Aignan, I rely upon you to procure me every information about her.”
+
+“Yes, sire, and when shall I have the honor of seeing your majesty again, to give you the latest news?”
+
+“Whenever you have procured it.”
+
+“I shall obtain it speedily, then, if the information can be as quickly obtained as my wish to see your majesty again.”
+
+“Well said, count! By the by, has Madame displayed any ill-feeling against this poor girl?”
+
+“None, sire.”
+
+“Madame did not get angry, then?”
+
+“I do not know; I only know that she laughed continually.”
+
+“That’s well; but I think I hear voices in the ante-rooms -- no doubt a courier has just arrived. Inquire, Saint-Aignan.” The count ran to the door and exchanged a few words with the usher; he returned to the king, saying, “Sire, it is M. Fouquet who has this moment arrived, by your majesty’s orders, he says. He presented himself, but, because of the lateness of the hour, he does not press for an audience this evening, and is satisfied to have his presence here formally announced.”
+
+“M. Fouquet! I wrote to him at three o’clock, inviting him to be at Fontainebleau the following day, and he arrives at Fontainebleau at two o’clock in the morning! This is, indeed, zeal!” exclaimed the king, delighted to see himself so promptly obeyed. “On the contrary, M. Fouquet shall have his audience. I summoned him, and will receive him. Let him be introduced. As for you, count, pursue your inquiries, and be here to-morrow.”
+
+The king placed his finger on his lips; and Saint-Aignan, his heart brimful of happiness, hastily withdrew, telling the usher to introduce M. Fouquet, who, thereupon, entered the king’s apartment. Louis rose to receive him.
+
+“Good evening, M. Fouquet,” he said, smiling graciously; “I congratulate you on your punctuality; and yet my message must have reached you late?”
+
+“At nine in the evening, sire.”
+
+“You have been working very hard lately, M. Fouquet, for I have been informed that you have not left your rooms at Saint-Mande during the last three or four days.”
+
+“It is perfectly true, your majesty, that I have kept myself shut up for the past three days,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“Do you know, M. Fouquet, that I had a great many things to say to you?” continued the king, with a most gracious air.
+
+“Your majesty overwhelms me, and since you are so graciously disposed towards me, will you permit me to remind you of the promise made to grant an audience?”
+
+“Ah, yes! some church dignitary, who thinks he has to thank me for something, is it not?”
+
+“Precisely so, sire. The hour is, perhaps, badly chosen; but the time of the companion whom I have brought with me is valuable, and as Fontainebleau is on the way to his diocese -- ”
+
+“Who is it, then?”
+
+“The bishop of Vannes, whose appointment your majesty, at my recommendation, deigned, three months since, to sign.”
+
+“That is very possible,” said the king, who had signed without reading; “and he is here?”
+
+“Yes, sire; Vannes is an important diocese; the flock belonging to this pastor needed his religious consolation; they are savages, whom it is necessary to polish, at the same time that he instructs them, and M. d’Herblay is unequalled in such kind of missions.”
+
+“M. d’Herblay!” said the king, musingly, as if his name, heard long since, was not, however, unknown to him.
+
+“Oh!” said Fouquet, promptly, “your majesty is not acquainted with the obscure name of one of your most faithful and valuable servants?”
+
+“No, I confess I am not. And so he wishes to set off again?”
+
+“He has this very day received letters which will, perhaps, compel him to leave, so that, before setting off for that unknown region called Bretagne, he is desirous of paying his respects to your majesty.”
+
+“Is he waiting?”
+
+“He is here, sire.”
+
+“Let him enter.”
+
+Fouquet made a sign to the usher in attendance, who was waiting behind the tapestry. The door opened, and Aramis entered. The king allowed him to finish the compliments which he addressed to him, and fixed a long look upon a countenance which no one could forget, after having once beheld it.
+
+“Vannes!” he said: “you are bishop of Vannes, I believe?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“Vannes is in Bretagne, I think?” Aramis bowed.
+
+“Near the coast?” Aramis again bowed.
+
+“A few leagues from Bell-Isle, is it not?”
+
+“Yes, sire,” replied Aramis; “six leagues, I believe.”
+
+“Six leagues; a mere step, then,” said Louis XIV.
+
+“Not for us poor Bretons, sire,” replied Aramis: “six leagues, on the contrary, is a great distance, if it be six leagues on land; and an immense distance, if it be leagues on the sea. Besides, I have the honor to mention to your majesty that there are six leagues of sea from the river to Belle-Isle.”
+
+“It is said that M. Fouquet has a very beautiful house there?” inquired the king.
+
+“Yes, it is said so,” replied Aramis, looking quietly at Fouquet.
+
+“What do you mean by ‘it is said so?’” exclaimed the king.
+
+“He has, sire.”
+
+“Really, M. Fouquet, I must confess that one circumstance surprises me.”
+
+“What may that be, sire?”
+
+“That you should have at the head of the diocese a man like M. d’Herblay, and yet should not have shown him Belle-Isle.”
+
+“Oh, sire,” replied the bishop, without giving Fouquet time to answer, “we poor Breton prelates seldom leave our residences.”
+
+“M. de Vannes,” said the king, “I will punish M. Fouquet for his indifference.”
+
+“In what way, sire?”
+
+“I will change your bishopric.”
+
+Fouquet bit his lips, but Aramis only smiled.
+
+“What income does Vannes bring you in?” continued the king.
+
+“Sixty thousand livres, sire,” said Aramis.
+
+“So trifling an amount as that; but you possess other property, Monsieur de Vannes?”
+
+“I have nothing else, sire; only M. Fouquet pays me one thousand two hundred livres a year for his pew in the church.”
+
+“Well, M. d’Herblay, I promise you something better than that.”
+
+“Sire -- ”
+
+“I will not forget you.”
+
+Aramis bowed, and the king also bowed to him in a respectful manner, as he was accustomed to do towards women and members of the Church. Aramis gathered that his audience was at an end; he took his leave of the king in the simple, unpretending language of a country pastor, and disappeared.
+
+“He is, indeed, a remarkable face,” said the king, following him with his eyes as long as he could see him, and even to a certain degree when he was no longer to be seen.
+
+“Sire,” replied Fouquet, “if that bishop had been educated early in life, no prelate in the kingdom would deserve the highest distinctions better than he.”
+
+“His learning is not extensive, then?”
+
+“He changed the sword for the crucifix, and that rather late in life. But it matters little, if your majesty will permit me to speak of M. de Vannes again on another occasion -- ”
+
+“I beg you to do so. But before speaking of him, let us speak of yourself, M. Fouquet.”
+
+“Of me, sire?”
+
+“Yes, I have to pay you a thousand compliments.”
+
+“I cannot express to your majesty the delight with which you overwhelm me.”
+
+“I understand you, M. Fouquet. I confess, however, to have had certain prejudices against you.”
+
+“In that case, I was indeed unhappy, sire.”
+
+“But they exist no longer. Did you not perceive -- ”
+
+“I did, indeed, sire; but I awaited with resignation the day when the truth would prevail; and it seems that that day has now arrived.”
+
+“Ah! you knew, then, you were in disgrace with me?”
+
+“Alas! sire, I perceived it.”
+
+“And do you know the reason?”
+
+“Perfectly well; your majesty thought that I had been wastefully lavish in expenditure.”
+
+“Not so; far from that.”
+
+“Or, rather an indifferent administrator. In a word, you thought that, as the people had no money, there would be none for your majesty either.”
+
+“Yes, I thought so; but I was deceived.”
+
+Fouquet bowed.
+
+“And no disturbances, no complaints?”
+
+“And money enough,” said Fouquet.
+
+“The fact is that you have been profuse with it during the last month.”
+
+“I have more, not only for all your majesty’s requirements, but for all your caprices.”
+
+“I thank you, Monsieur Fouquet,” replied the king, seriously. “I will not put you to the proof. For the next two months I do not intend to ask you for anything.”
+
+“I will avail myself of the interval to amass five or six millions, which will be serviceable as money in hand in case of war.”
+
+“Five or six millions!”
+
+“For the expenses of your majesty’s household only, be it understood.”
+
+“You think war probable, M. Fouquet?”
+
+“I think that if Heaven has bestowed on the eagle a beak and claws, it is to enable him to show his royal character.”
+
+The king blushed with pleasure.
+
+“We have spent a great deal of money these few days past, Monsieur Fouquet; will you not scold me for it?”
+
+“Sire, your majesty has still twenty years of youth to enjoy, and a thousand million francs to lavish in those twenty years.”
+
+“That is a great deal of money, M. Fouquet,” said the king.
+
+“I will economize, sire. Besides, your majesty as two valuable servants in M. Colbert and myself. The one will encourage you to be prodigal with your treasures -- and this shall be myself, if my services should continue to be agreeable to your majesty; and the other will economize money for you, and this will be M. Colbert’s province.”
+
+“M. Colbert?” returned the king, astonished.
+
+“Certainly, sire; M. Colbert is an excellent accountant.”
+
+At this commendation, bestowed by the traduced on the traducer, the king felt himself penetrated with confidence and admiration. There was not, moreover, either in Fouquet’s voice or look, anything which injuriously affected a single syllable of the remark he had made; he did not pass one eulogium, as it were, in order to acquire the right of making two reproaches. The king comprehended him, and yielding to so much generosity and address, he said, “You praise M. Colbert, then?”
+
+“Yes, sire, I praise him; for, besides being a man of merit, I believe him to be devoted to your majesty’s interests.”
+
+“Is that because he has often interfered with your own views?” said the king, smiling.
+
+“Exactly, sire.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“It is simple enough. I am the man who is needed to make the money come in; he is the man who is needed to prevent it leaving.”
+
+“Nay, nay, monsieur le surintendant, you will presently say something which will correct this good opinion.”
+
+“Do you mean as far as administrative abilities are concerned, sire?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Not in the slightest.”
+
+“Really?”
+
+“Upon my honor, sire, I do not know throughout France a better clerk than M. Colbert.”
+
+This word “clerk” did not possess, in 1661, the somewhat subservient signification attached to it in the present day; but, as spoken by Fouquet, whom the king had addressed as the superintendent, it seemed to acquire an insignificant and petty character, that at this juncture served admirably to restore Fouquet to his place, and Colbert to his own.
+
+“And yet,” said Louis XIV., “it was Colbert, however, that, notwithstanding his economy, had the arrangement of my fetes here at Fontainebleau; and I assure you, Monsieur Fouquet, that in no way has he checked the expenditure of money.” Fouquet bowed, but did not reply.
+
+“Is it not your opinion too?” said the king.
+
+“I think, sire,” he replied, “that M. Colbert has done what he had to do in an exceedingly orderly manner, and that he deserves, in this respect, all the praise your majesty may bestow upon him.”
+
+The word “orderly” was a proper accompaniment for the word “clerk.” The king possessed that extreme sensitiveness of organization, that delicacy of perception, which pierced through and detected the regular order of feelings and sensations, before the actual sensations themselves, and he therefore comprehended that the clerk had, in Fouquet’s opinion, been too full of method and order in his arrangements; in other words, that the magnificent fetes of Fontainebleau might have been rendered more magnificent still. The king consequently felt that there was something in the amusements he had provided with which some person or another might be able to find fault; he experienced a little of the annoyance felt by a person coming from the provinces to Paris, dressed out in the very best clothes which his wardrobe can furnish, only to find that the fashionably dressed man there looks at him either too much or not enough. This part of the conversation, which Fouquet had carried on with so much moderation, yet with extreme tact, inspired the king with the highest esteem for the character of the man and the capacity of the minister. Fouquet took his leave at a quarter to three in the morning, and the king went to bed a little uneasy and confused at the indirect lesson he had received; and a good hour was employed by him in going over again in memory the embroideries, the tapestries, the bills of fare of the various banquets, the architecture of the triumphal arches, the arrangements for the illuminations and fireworks, all the offspring of the “Clerk Colbert’s” invention. The result was, the king passed in review before him everything that had taken place during the last eight days, and decided that faults could be found in his fetes. But Fouquet, by his politeness, his thoughtful consideration, and his generosity, had injured Colbert more deeply than the latter, by his artifice, his ill-will, and his persevering hatred, had ever yet succeeded in hurting Fouquet.
+
+Chapter XLVIII. Fontainebleau at Two o’Clock in the Morning.
+
+As we have seen, Saint-Aignan had quitted the king’s apartment at the very moment the superintendent entered it. Saint-Aignan was charged with a mission that required dispatch, and he was going to do his utmost to turn his time to the best advantage. He whom we have introduced as the king’s friend was indeed an uncommon personage; he was one of those valuable courtiers whose vigilance and acuteness of perception threw all other favorites into the shade, and counterbalanced, by his close attention, the servility of Dangeau, who was not the favorite, but the toady of the king. M. de Saint-Aignan began to think what was to be done in the present position of affairs. He reflected that his first information ought to come from De Guiche. He therefore set out in search of him, but De Guiche, whom we saw disappear behind one of the wings, and who seemed to have returned to his own apartments, had not entered the chateau. Saint-Aignan therefore went in quest of him, and after having turned, and twisted, and searched in every direction, he perceived something like a human form leaning against a tree. This figure was as motionless as a statue, and seemed deeply engaged in looking at a window, although its curtains were closely drawn. As this window happened to be Madame’s, Saint-Aignan concluded that the form in question must be that of De Guiche. He advanced cautiously, and found he was not mistaken. De Guiche had, after his conversation with Madame, carried away such a weight of happiness, that all of his strength of mind was hardly sufficient to enable him to support it. On his side, Saint-Aignan knew that De Guiche had had something to do with La Valliere’s introduction to Madame’s household, for a courtier knows everything and forgets nothing; but he had never learned under what title or conditions De Guiche had conferred his protection upon La Valliere. But, as in asking a great many questions it is singular if a man does not learn something, Saint-Aignan reckoned upon learning much or little, as the case might be, if he questioned De Guiche with that extreme tact, and, at the same time, with that persistence in attaining an object, of which he was capable. Saint-Aignan’s plan was as follows: If the information obtained was satisfactory, he would inform the king, with alacrity, that he had lighted upon a pearl, and claim the privilege of setting the pearl in question in the royal crown. If the information were unsatisfactory, -- which, after all, might be possible, -- he would examine how far the king cared about La Valliere, and make use of his information in such a manner as to get rid of the girl altogether, and thereby obtain all the merit of her banishment with all the ladies of the court who might have the least pretensions to the king’s heart, beginning with Madame and finishing with the queen. In case the king should show himself obstinate in his fancy, then he would not produce the damaging information he had obtained, but would let La Valliere know that this damaging information was carefully preserved in a secret drawer of her confidant’s memory. In this manner, he would be able to air his generosity before the poor girl’s eyes, and so keep her in constant suspense between gratitude and apprehension, to such an extent as to make her a friend at court, interested, as an accomplice, in trying to make his fortune, while she was making her own. As far as concerned the day when the bombshell of the past should burst, if ever there were any occasion, Saint-Aignan promised himself that he would by that time have taken all possible precautions, and would pretend an entire ignorance of the matter to the king; while, with regard to La Valliere, he would still have an opportunity of being considered the personification of generosity. It was with such ideas as these, which the fire of covetousness had caused to dawn in half an hour, that Saint-Aignan, the son of earth, as La Fontaine would have said, determined to get De Guiche into conversation: in other words, to trouble him in his happiness -- a happiness of which Saint-Aignan was quite ignorant. It was long past one o’clock in the morning when Saint-Aignan perceived De Guiche, standing, motionless, leaning against the trunk of a tree, with his eyes fastened upon the lighted window, -- the sleepiest hour of night-time, which painters crown with myrtles and budding poppies, the hour when eyes are heavy, hearts throb, and heads feel dull and languid -- an hour which casts upon the day which has passed away a look of regret, while addressing a loving greeting to the dawning light. For De Guiche it was the dawn of unutterable happiness; he would have bestowed a treasure upon a beggar, had one stood before him, to secure him uninterrupted indulgence in his dreams. It was precisely at this hour that Saint-Aignan, badly advised, -- selfishness always counsels badly, -- came and struck him on the shoulder, at the very moment he was murmuring a word, or rather a name.
+
+“Ah!” he cried loudly, “I was looking for you.”
+
+“For me?” said De Guiche, starting.
+
+“Yes; and I find you seemingly moon-struck. Is it likely, my dear comte, you have been attacked by a poetical malady, and are making verses?”
+
+The young man forced a smile upon his lips, while a thousand conflicting sensations were muttering defiance of Saint-Aignan in the deep recesses of his heart. “Perhaps,” he said. “But by what happy chance -- ”
+
+“Ah! your remark shows that you did not hear what I said.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Why, I began by telling you I was looking for you.”
+
+“You were looking for me?”
+
+“Yes: and I find you now in the very act.”
+
+“Of doing what, I should like to know?”
+
+“Of singing the praises of Phyllis.”
+
+“Well, I do not deny it,” said De Guiche, laughing. “Yes, my dear comte, I was celebrating Phyllis’s praises.”
+
+“And you have acquired the right to do so.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“You; no doubt of it. You; the intrepid protector of every beautiful and clever woman.”
+
+“In the name of goodness, what story have you got hold of now?”
+
+“Acknowledged truths, I am well aware. But stay a moment; I am in love.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“So much the better, my dear comte; tell me all about it.” And De Guiche, afraid that Saint-Aignan might perhaps presently observe the window, where the light was still burning, took the comte’s arm and endeavored to lead him away.
+
+“Oh!” said the latter, resisting, “do not take me towards those dark woods, it is too damp there. Let us stay in the moonlight.” And while he yielded to the pressure of De Guiche’s arm, he remained in the flower-garden adjoining the chateau.
+
+“Well,” said De Guiche, resigning himself, “lead me where you like, and ask me what you please.”
+
+“It is impossible to be more agreeable than you are.” And then, after a moment’s silence, Saint-Aignan continued, “I wish you to tell me something about a certain person in who you have interested yourself.”
+
+“And with whom you are in love?”
+
+“I will neither admit nor deny it. You understand that a man does not very readily place his heart where there is no hope of return, and that it is most essential he should take measures of security in advance.”
+
+“You are right,” said De Guiche with a sigh; “a man’s heart is a very precious gift.”
+
+“Mine particularly is very tender, and in that light I present it to you.”
+
+“Oh! you are well known, comte. Well?”
+
+“It is simply a question of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Why, my dear Saint-Aignan, you are losing your senses, I should think.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“I have never shown or taken any interest in Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Did you not obtain admission for Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente into Madame’s household?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente -- and you ought to know it better than any one else, my dear comte -- is of a sufficiently good family to make her presence here desirable, and her admittance very easy.”
+
+“You are jesting.”
+
+“No; and upon my honor I do not know what you mean.”
+
+“And you had nothing, then, to do with her admission?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You do not know her?”
+
+“I saw her for the first time the day she was presented to Madame. Therefore, as I have never taken any interest in her, as I do not know her, I am not able to give you the information you require.” And De Guiche made a movement as though he were about to leave his questioner.
+
+“Nay, nay, one moment, my dear comte,” said Saint-Aignan; “you shall not escape me in this manner.”
+
+“Why, really, it seems to me that it is now time to return to our apartments.”
+
+“And yet you were not going in when I -- did not meet, but found you.”
+
+“Therefore, my dear comte,” said De Guiche, “as long as you have anything to say to me, I place myself entirely at your service.”
+
+“And you are quite right in doing so. What matters half an hour more or less? Will you swear that you have no injurious communications to make to me about her, and that any injurious communications you might possibly have to make are not the cause of your silence?”
+
+“Oh! I believe the poor child to be as pure as crystal.”
+
+“You overwhelm me with joy. And yet I do not wish to have towards you the appearance of a man so badly informed as I seem. It is quite certain that you supplied the princess’s household with the ladies of honor. Nay, a song has even been written about it.”
+
+“Oh! songs are written about everything.”
+
+“Do you know it?”
+
+“No: sing it to me and I shall make its acquaintance.”
+
+“I cannot tell you how it begins; I only remember how it ends.”
+
+“Very well, at all events, that is something.”
+
+“When Maids of Honor happen to run short, Lo! -- Guiche will furnish the entire Court.”
+
+“The idea is weak, and the rhyme poor,” said De Guiche.
+
+“What can you expect, my dear fellow? it is not Racine’s or Moliere’s, but La Feuillade’s; and a great lord cannot rhyme like a beggarly poet.”
+
+“It is very unfortunate, though, that you only remember the termination.”
+
+“Stay, stay, I have just recollected the beginning of the second couplet.”
+
+“Why, there’s the birdcage, with a pretty pair, The charming Montalais, and...”
+
+“And La Valliere,” exclaimed Guiche, impatiently, and completely ignorant besides of Saint-Aignan’s object.
+
+“Yes, yes, you have it. You have hit upon the word, ‘La Valliere.’”
+
+“A grand discovery indeed.”
+
+“Montalais and La Valliere, these, then, are the two young girls in whom you interest yourself,” said Saint-Aignan, laughing.
+
+“And so Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente’s name is not to be met with in the song?”
+
+“No, indeed.”
+
+“And are you satisfied, then?”
+
+“Perfectly; but I find Montalais there,” said Saint-Aignan, still laughing.
+
+“Oh! you will find her everywhere. She is a singularly active young lady.”
+
+“You know her?”
+
+“Indirectly. She was the protegee of a man named Malicorne, who is a protegee of Manicamp’s; Manicamp asked me to get the situation of maid of honor for Montalais in Madame’s household, and a situation for Malicorne as an officer in Monsieur’s household. Well, I asked for the appointments, for you know very well that I have a weakness for that droll fellow Manicamp.”
+
+“And you obtained what you sought?”
+
+“For Montalais, yes; for Malicorne, yes and no; for as yet he is only on trial. Do you wish to know anything else?”
+
+“The last word of the couplet still remains, La Valliere,” said Saint-Aignan, resuming the smile that so tormented Guiche.
+
+“Well,” said the latter, “it is true that I obtained admission for her in Madame’s household.”
+
+“Ah!” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“But,” continued Guiche, assuming a great coldness of manner, “you will oblige me, comte, not to jest about that name. Mademoiselle la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere is a young lady perfectly well-conducted.”
+
+“Perfectly well-conducted do you say?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then you have not heard the last rumor?” exclaimed Saint-Aignan.
+
+“No, and you will do me a service, my dear comte, in keeping this report to yourself and to those who circulate it.”
+
+“Ah! bah! you take the matter up very seriously.”
+
+“Yes; Mademoiselle de Valliere is beloved by one of my best friends.”
+
+Saint-Aignan started. “Aha!” he said.
+
+“Yes, comte,” continued Guiche; “and consequently, you, the most distinguished man in France for polished courtesy of manner, will understand that I cannot allow my friend to be placed in a ridiculous position.”
+
+Saint-Aignan began to bite his nails, partially from vexation, and partially from disappointed curiosity. Guiche made him a very profound bow.
+
+“You send me away,” said Saint-Aignan, who was dying to know the name of the friend.
+
+“I do not send you away, my dear fellow. I am going to finish my lines to Phyllis.”
+
+“And those lines -- ”
+
+“Are a quatrain. You understand, I trust, that a quatrain is a serious affair?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“And as, of these four lines, of which it is composed, I have yet three and a half to make, I need my undivided attention.”
+
+“I quite understand. Adieu! comte. By the by -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Are you quick at making verses?”
+
+“Wonderfully so.”
+
+“Will you have quite finished the three lines and a half to-morrow morning?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“Adieu, then, until to-morrow.”
+
+“Adieu, adieu!”
+
+Saint-Aignan was obliged to accept the notice to quit; he accordingly did so, and disappeared behind the hedge. Their conversation had led Guiche and Saint-Aignan a good distance from the chateau.
+
+Every mathematician, every poet, and every dreamer has his own subjects of interest. Saint-Aignan, on leaving Guiche, found himself at the extremity of the grove, -- at the very spot where the outbuildings of the servants begin, and where, behind the thickets of acacias and chestnut-trees interlacing their branches, which were hidden by masses of clematis and young vines, the wall which separated the woods from the courtyard was erected. Saint-Aignan, alone, took the path which led towards these buildings; De Guiche going off in the opposite direction. The one proceeded to the flower-garden, while the other bent his steps towards the walls. Saint-Aignan walked on between rows of mountain-ash, lilac, and hawthorn, which formed an almost impenetrable roof above his head; his feet were buried in the soft gravel and thick moss. He was deliberating a means of taking his revenge, which seemed difficult for him to carry out, and was vexed with himself for not having learned more about La Valliere, notwithstanding the ingenious measures he had resorted to in order to acquire more information about her, when suddenly the murmur of a human voice attracted his attention. He heard whispers, the complaining tones of a woman’s voice mingled with entreaties, smothered laughter, sighs, and half-stilted exclamations of surprise; but above them all, the woman’s voice prevailed. Saint-Aignan stopped to look about him; he perceived from the greatest surprise that the voices proceeded, not from the ground, but from the branches of the trees. As he glided along under the covered walk, he raised his head, and observed at the top of the wall a woman perched upon a ladder, in eager conversation with a man seated on a branch of a chestnut-tree, whose head alone could be seen, the rest of his body being concealed in the thick covert of the chestnut. [5]
+
+Chapter XLIX. The Labyrinth.
+
+Saint-Aignan, who had only been seeking for information, had met with an adventure. This was indeed a piece of good luck. Curious to learn why, and particularly what about, this man and woman were conversing at such an hour, and in such a singular position, Saint-Aignan made himself as small as he possibly could, and approached almost under the rounds of the ladder. And taking measures to make himself as comfortable as possible, he leaned his back against a tree and listened, and heard the following conversation. The woman was the first to speak.
+
+“Really, Monsieur Manicamp,” she said, in a voice which, notwithstanding the reproaches she addressed to him, preserved a marked tone of coquetry, “really your indiscretion is of a very dangerous character. We cannot talk long in this manner without being observed.”
+
+“That is very probable,” said the man, in the calmest and coolest of tones.
+
+“In that case, then, what would people say? Oh! if any one were to see me, I declare I should die of very shame.”
+
+“Oh! that would be very silly; I do not believe you would.”
+
+“It might have been different if there had been anything between us; but to injure myself gratuitously is really very foolish of me; so, adieu, Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“So far so good; I know the man, and now let me see who the woman is,” said Saint-Aignan, watching the rounds of the ladder, on which were standing two pretty little feet covered with blue satin shoes.
+
+“Nay, nay, for pity’s sake, my dear Montalais,” cried Manicamp, “deuce take it, do not go away; I have a great many things to say to you, of the greatest importance, still.”
+
+“Montalais,” said Saint-Aignan to himself, “one of the three. Each of the three gossips had her adventure, only I imagined the hero of this one’s adventure was Malicorne and not Manicamp.”
+
+At her companion’s appeal, Montalais stopped in the middle of her descent, and Saint-Aignan could observe the unfortunate Manicamp climb from one branch of the chestnut-tree to another, either to improve his situation or to overcome the fatigue consequent upon his inconvenient position.
+
+“Now, listen to me,” said he; “you quite understand, I hope, that my intentions are perfectly innocent?”
+
+“Of course. But why did you write me a letter stimulating my gratitude towards you? Why did you ask me for an interview at such an hour and in such a place as this?”
+
+“I stimulated your gratitude in reminding you that it was I who had been the means of your becoming attached to Madame’s household; because most anxiously desirous of obtaining the interview you have been kind enough to grant me, I employed the means which appeared to me most certain to insure it. And my reason for soliciting it, at such an hour and in such a locality, was, that the hour seemed to me to be the most prudent, and the locality the least open to observation. Moreover, I had occasion to speak to you upon certain subjects which require both prudence and solitude.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp!”
+
+“But everything I wish to say is perfectly honorable, I assure you.”
+
+“I think, Monsieur Manicamp, it will be more becoming in me to take my leave.”
+
+“No, no! -- listen to me, or I will jump from my perch here to yours; and be careful how you set me at defiance, for a branch of this chestnut-tree causes me a good deal of annoyance, and may provoke me to extreme measures. Do not follow the example of this branch, then, but listen to me.”
+
+“I am listening, and I agree to do so; but be as brief as possible, for if you have a branch of the chestnut-tree which annoys you, I wish you to understand that one of the rounds of the ladder is hurting the soles of my feet, and my shoes are being cut through.”
+
+“Do me the kindness to give me your hand.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Will you have the goodness to do so?”
+
+“There is my hand, then; but what are you going to do?”
+
+“To draw you towards me.”
+
+“What for? You surely do not wish me to join you in the tree?”
+
+“No; but I wish you to sit down upon the wall; there, that will do; there is quite room enough, and I would give a great deal to be allowed to sit down beside you.”
+
+“No, no; you are very well where you are; we should be seen.”
+
+“Do you really think so?” said Manicamp, in an insinuating voice.
+
+“I am sure of it.”
+
+“Very well, I remain in my tree, then, although I cannot be worse placed.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp, we are wandering away from the subject.”
+
+“You are right, we are so.”
+
+“You wrote me a letter?”
+
+“I did.”
+
+“Why did you write?”
+
+“Fancy, at two o’clock to-day, De Guiche left.”
+
+“What then?”
+
+“Seeing him set off, I followed him, as I usually do.”
+
+“Of course, I see that, since you are here now.”
+
+“Don’t be in a hurry. You are aware, I suppose, that De Guiche is up to his very neck in disgrace?”
+
+“Alas! yes.”
+
+“It was the very height of imprudence on his part, then, to come to Fontainebleau to seek those who had at Paris sent him away into exile, and particularly those from whom he had been separated.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp, you reason like Pythagoras.”
+
+“Moreover, De Guiche is as obstinate as a man in love can be, and he refused to listen to any of my remonstrances. I begged, I implored him, but he would not listen to anything. Oh, the deuce!”
+
+“What’s the matter?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Montalais, but this confounded branch, about which I have already had the honor of speaking to you, has just torn a certain portion of my dress.”
+
+“It is quite dark,” replied Montalais, laughing; “so, pray continue, M. Manicamp.”
+
+“De Guiche set off on horseback as hard as he could, I following him, at a slower pace. You quite understand that to throw one’s self into the water, for instance, with a friend, at the same headlong rate as he himself would do it, would be the act either of a fool or a madman. I therefore allowed De Guiche to get in advance, and I proceeded on my way with a commendable slowness of pace, feeling quite sure that my unfortunate friend would not be received, or, if he had been, that he would ride off again at the very first cross, disagreeable answer; and that I should see him returning much faster than he went, without having, myself, gone much farther than Ris or Melun -- and that even was a good distance you will admit, for it is eleven leagues to get there and as many to return.”
+
+Montalais shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Laugh as much as you like; but if, instead of being comfortably seated on the top of the wall as you are, you were sitting on this branch as if you were on horseback, you would, like Augustus, aspire to descend.”
+
+“Be patient, my dear M. Manicamp; a few minutes will soon pass away; you were saying, I think, that you had gone beyond Ris and Melun.”
+
+“Yes, I went through Ris and Melun, and I continued to go on, more and more surprised that I did not see him returning; and here I am at Fontainebleau; I look for and inquire after De Guiche everywhere, but no one has seen him, no one in the town has spoken to him; he arrived riding at full gallop, he entered the chateau; and there he has disappeared. I have been here at Fontainebleau since eight o’clock this evening inquiring for De Guiche in every direction, but no De Guiche can be found. I am dying with uneasiness. You understand that I have not been running my head into the lion’s den, in entering the chateau, as my imprudent friend has done; I came at once to the servants’ offices, and I succeeded in getting a letter conveyed to you; and now, for Heaven’s sake, my dear young lady, relieve me from my anxiety.”
+
+“There will be no difficulty in that, my dear M. Manicamp; your friend De Guiche has been admirably received.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“The king made quite a fuss over him.”
+
+“The king, who exiled him!”
+
+“Madame smiled upon him, and Monsieur appears to like him better than ever.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Manicamp, “that explains to me, then, why and how he has remained. And did he not say anything about me?”
+
+“Not a word.”
+
+“That is very unkind. What is he doing now?”
+
+“In all probability he is asleep, or, if not asleep, dreaming.”
+
+“And what have they been doing all the evening?”
+
+“Dancing.”
+
+“The famous ballet? How did De Guiche look?”
+
+“Superb!”
+
+“Dear fellow! And now, pray forgive me, Mademoiselle Montalais; but all I now have to do is pass from where I now am to your apartment.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I cannot suppose that the door of the chateau will be opened for me at this hour; and as for spending the night upon this branch, I possibly might not object to do so, but I declare it is impossible for any other animal than a boa-constrictor to do it.”
+
+“But, M. Manicamp, I cannot introduce a man over the wall in that manner.”
+
+“Two, if you please,” said a second voice, but in so timid a tone that it seemed as if its owner felt the utter impropriety of such a request.
+
+“Good gracious!” exclaimed Montalais, “who is that speaking to me?”
+
+“Malicorne, Mademoiselle Montalais.”
+
+And as Malicorne spoke, he raised himself from the ground to the lowest branches, and thence to the height of the wall.
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne! why, you are both mad!”
+
+“How do you do, Mademoiselle Montalais?” inquired Malicorne.
+
+“I needed but this!” said Montalais, in despair.
+
+“Oh! Mademoiselle Montalais,” murmured Malicorne; “do not be so severe, I beseech you.”
+
+“In fact,” said Manicamp, “we are your friends, and you cannot possibly wish your friends to lose their lives; and to leave us to pass the night on these branches is in fact condemning us to death.”
+
+“Oh!” said Montalais, “Monsieur Malicorne is so robust that a night passed in the open air with the beautiful stars above him will not do him any harm, and it will be a just punishment for the trick he has played me.”
+
+“Be it so, then; let Malicorne arrange matters with you in the best way he can; I pass over,” said Manicamp. And bending down the famous branch against which he had directed such bitter complaints, he succeeded, by the assistance of his hands and feet, in seating himself side by side with Montalais, who tried to push him back, while he endeavored to maintain his position, and, moreover, he succeeded. Having taken possession of the ladder, he stepped on it, and then gallantly offered his hand to his fair antagonist. While this was going on, Malicorne had installed himself in the chestnut-tree, in the very place Manicamp had just left, determining within himself to succeed him in the one he now occupied. Manicamp and Montalais descended a few rounds of the ladder, Manicamp insisting, and Montalais laughing and objecting.
+
+Suddenly Malicorne’s voice was heard in tones of entreaty:
+
+“I entreat you, Mademoiselle Montalais, not to leave me here. My position is very insecure, and some accident will be certain to befall me, if I attempt unaided to reach the other side of the wall; it does not matter if Manicamp tears his clothes, for he can make use of M. de Guiche’s wardrobe; but I shall not be able to use even those belonging to M. Manicamp, for they will be torn.”
+
+“My opinion,” said Manicamp, without taking any notice of Malicorne’s lamentations, “is that the best thing to be done is to go and look for De Guiche without delay, for, by and by, perhaps, I may not be able to get to his apartments.”
+
+“That is my own opinion, too,” replied Montalais; “so, go at once, Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“A thousand thanks. Adieu Mademoiselle Montalais,” said Manicamp, jumping to the ground; “your condescension cannot be repaid.”
+
+“Farewell, M. Manicamp; I am now going to get rid of M. Malicorne.”
+
+Malicorne sighed. Manicamp went away a few paces, but returning to the foot of the ladder, he said, “By the by, how do I get to M. de Guiche’s apartments?”
+
+“Nothing easier. You go along by the hedge until you reach a place where the paths cross.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You will see four paths.”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“One of which you will take.”
+
+“Which of them?”
+
+“That to the right.”
+
+“That to the right?”
+
+“No, to the left.”
+
+“The deuce!”
+
+“No, no, wait a minute -- ”
+
+“You do not seem to be quite sure. Think again, I beg.”
+
+“You take the middle path.”
+
+“But there are four.”
+
+“So there are. All I know is, that one of the four paths leads straight to Madame’s apartments; and that one I am well acquainted with.”
+
+“But M. de Guiche is not in Madame’s apartments, I suppose?”
+
+“No, indeed.”
+
+“Well, then the path which leads to Madame’s apartments is of no use to me, and I would willingly exchange it for the one that leads to where M. de Guiche is lodging.”
+
+“Of course, and I know that as well; but as for indicating it from where we are, it is quite impossible.”
+
+“Well, let us suppose that I have succeeded in finding that fortunate path.”
+
+“In that case, you are almost there, for you have nothing else to do but cross the labyrinth.”
+
+“Nothing more than that? The deuce! so there is a labyrinth as well.”
+
+“Yes, and complicated enough too; even in daylight one may sometimes be deceived, -- there are turnings and windings without end: in the first place, you must turn three times to the right, then twice to the left, then turn once -- stay, is it once or twice, though? at all events, when you get clear of the labyrinth, you will see an avenue of sycamores, and this avenue leads straight to the pavilion in which M. de Guiche is lodging.”
+
+“Nothing could be more clearly indicated,” said Manicamp; “and I have not the slightest doubt in the world that if I were to follow your directions, I should lose my way immediately. I have, therefore, a slight service to ask of you.”
+
+“What may that be?”
+
+“That you will offer me your arm and guide me yourself, like another -- like another -- I used to know mythology, but other important matters have made me forget it; pray come with me, then?”
+
+“And am I to be abandoned, then?” cried Malicorne.
+
+“It is quite impossible, monsieur,” said Montalais to Manicamp; “if I were to be seen with you at such an hour, what would be said of me?”
+
+“Your own conscience would acquit you,” said Manicamp, sententiously.
+
+“Impossible, monsieur, impossible.”
+
+“In that case, let me assist Malicorne to get down; he is a very intelligent fellow, and possesses a very keen scent; he will guide me, and if we lose ourselves, both of us will be lost, and the one will save the other. If we are together, and should be met by any one, we shall look as if we had some matter of business in hand; whilst alone I should have the appearance either of a lover or a robber. Come, Malicorne, here is the ladder.”
+
+Malicorne had already stretched out one of his legs towards the top of the wall, when Manicamp said, in a whisper, “Hush!”
+
+“What’s the matter?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“I hear footsteps.”
+
+“Good heavens!”
+
+In fact the fancied footsteps soon became a reality; the foliage was pushed aside, and Saint-Aignan appeared, with a smile on his lips, and his hand stretched out towards them, taking every one by surprise; that is to say, Malicorne upon the tree with his head stretched out, Montalais upon the round of the ladder and clinging to it tightly, and Manicamp on the ground with his foot advanced ready to set off. “Good-evening, Manicamp,” said the comte, “I am glad to see you, my dear fellow; we missed you this evening, and a good many inquiries have been made about you. Mademoiselle de Montalais, your most obedient servant.”
+
+Montalais blushed. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, hiding her face in both her hands.
+
+“Pray reassure yourself; I know how perfectly innocent you are, and I shall give a good account of you. Manicamp, do you follow me: the hedge, the cross-paths, and labyrinth, I am well acquainted with them all; I will be your Ariadne. There now, your mythological name is found at last.”
+
+“Perfectly true, comte.”
+
+“And take M. Malicorne away with you at the same time,” said Montalais.
+
+“No, indeed,” said Malicorne; “M. Manicamp has conversed with you as long as he liked, and now it is my turn, if you please; I have a multitude of things to tell you about our future prospects.”
+
+“You hear,” said the comte, laughing; “stay with him, Mademoiselle Montalais. This is, indeed, a night for secrets.” And, taking Manicamp’s arm, the comte led him rapidly away in the direction of the road Montalais knew so well, and indicated so badly. Montalais followed them with her eyes as long as she could perceive them.
+
+Chapter L: How Malicorne Had Been Turned Out of the Hotel of the Beau Paon.
+
+While Montalais was engaged in looking after the comte and Manicamp, Malicorne had taken advantage of the young girl’s attention being drawn away to render his position somewhat more tolerable, and when she turned round, she immediately noticed the change which had taken place; for he had seated himself, like a monkey, upon the wall, the foliage of the wild vine and honeysuckle curled around his head like a faun, while the twisted ivy branches represented tolerably enough his cloven feet. Montalais required nothing to make her resemblance to a dryad as complete as possible. “Well,” she said, ascending another round of the ladder, “are you resolved to render me unhappy? have you not persecuted me enough, tyrant that you are?”
+
+“I a tyrant?” said Malicorne.
+
+“Yes, you are always compromising me, Monsieur Malicorne; you are a perfect monster of wickedness.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“What have you to do with Fontainebleau? Is not Orleans your place of residence?”
+
+“Do you ask me what I have to do here? I wanted to see you.”
+
+“Ah, great need of that.”
+
+“Not as far as concerns yourself, perhaps, but as far as I am concerned, Mademoiselle Montalais, you know very well that I have left my home, and that, for the future, I have no other place of residence than that which you may happen to have. As you, therefore, are staying at Fontainebleau at the present moment, I have come to Fontainebleau.”
+
+Montalais shrugged her shoulders. “You wished to see me, did you not?” she said.
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“Very well, you have seen me, -- you are satisfied; so now go away.”
+
+“Oh, no,” said Malicorne; “I came to talk with you as well as to see you.”
+
+“Very well, we will talk by and by, and in another place than this.”
+
+“By and by! Heaven only knows if I shall meet you by and by in another place. We shall never find a more favorable one than this.”
+
+“But I cannot this evening, nor at the present moment.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because a thousand things have happened to-night.”
+
+“Well, then, my affair will make a thousand and one.”
+
+“No, no; Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is waiting for me in our room to communicate something of the very greatest importance.”
+
+“How long has she been waiting?”
+
+“For an hour at least.”
+
+“In that case,” said Malicorne, tranquilly, “she can wait a few minutes longer.”
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne,” said Montalais, “you are forgetting yourself.”
+
+“You should rather say that it is you who are forgetting me, and that I am getting impatient at the part you make me play here indeed! For the last week I have been prowling about among the company, and you have not once deigned to notice my presence.”
+
+“Have you been prowling about here for a week, M. Malicorne?”
+
+“Like a wolf; sometimes I have been burnt by the fireworks, which have singed two of my wigs; at others, I have been completely drenched in the osiers by the evening damps, or the spray from the fountains, -- half-famished, fatigued to death, with the view of a wall always before me, and the prospect of having to scale it perhaps. Upon my word, this is not the sort of life for any one to lead who is neither a squirrel, a salamander, nor an otter; and since you drive your inhumanity so far as to wish to make me renounce my condition as a man, I declare it openly. A man I am, indeed, and a man I will remain, unless by superior orders.”
+
+“Well, then, tell me, what do you wish, -- what do you require, -- what do you insist upon?” said Montalais, in a submissive tone.
+
+“Do you mean to tell me that you did not know I was at Fontainebleau?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Nay, be frank.”
+
+“I suspected so.”
+
+“Well, then, could you not have contrived during the last week to have seen me once a day, at least?”
+
+“I have always been prevented, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Fiddlesticks!”
+
+“Ask my companion, if you do not believe me.”
+
+“I shall ask no one to explain matters, I know better than any one.”
+
+“Compose yourself, M. Malicorne: things will change.”
+
+“They must indeed.”
+
+“You know that, whether I see you or not, I am thinking of you,” said Montalais, in a coaxing tone of voice.
+
+“Oh, you are thinking of me, are you? well, and is there anything new?”
+
+“What about?”
+
+“About my post in Monsieur’s household.”
+
+“Ah, my dear Malicorne, no one has ventured lately to approach his royal highness.”
+
+“Well, but now?”
+
+“Now it is quite a different thing; since yesterday he has left off being jealous.”
+
+“Bah! how has his jealousy subsided?”
+
+“It has been diverted into another channel.”
+
+“Tell me all about it.”
+
+“A report was spread that the king had fallen in love with some one else, and Monsieur was tranquillized immediately.”
+
+“And who spread the report?”
+
+Montalais lowered her voice. “Between ourselves,” she said, “I think that Madame and the king have come to a secret understanding about it.”
+
+“Ah!” said Malicorne; “that was the only way to manage it. But what about poor M. de Guiche?”
+
+“Oh, as for him, he is completely turned off.”
+
+“Have they been writing to each other?”
+
+“No, certainly not; I have not seen a pen in either of their hands for the last week.”
+
+“On what terms are you with Madame?”
+
+“The very best.”
+
+“And with the king?”
+
+“The king always smiles at me whenever I pass him.”
+
+“Good. Now tell me whom have the two lovers selected to serve as their screen?”
+
+“La Valliere.”
+
+“Oh, oh, poor girl! We must prevent that!”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because, if M. Raoul Bragelonne were to suspect it, he would either kill her or kill himself.”
+
+“Raoul, poor fellow! do you think so?”
+
+“Women pretend to have a knowledge of the state of people’s affections,” said Malicorne, “and they do not even know how to read the thoughts of their own minds and hearts. Well, I can tell you that M. de Bragelonne loves La Valliere to such a degree that, if she deceived him, he would, I repeat, either kill himself or kill her.”
+
+“But the king is there to defend her,” said Montalais.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Malicorne; “Raoul would kill the king as he would a common thief.”
+
+“Good heavens!” said Montalais; “you are mad, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Not in the least. Everything I have told you is, on the contrary, perfectly serious; and, for my own part, I know one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“That I shall quietly tell Raoul of the trick.”
+
+“Hush!” said Montalais, mounting another round of the ladder, so as to approach Malicorne more closely, “do not open your lips to poor Raoul.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because, as yet you know nothing at all.”
+
+“What is the matter, then?”
+
+“Why, this evening -- but no one is listening, I hope?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“This evening, then, beneath the royal oak, La Valliere said aloud, and innocently enough, ‘I cannot conceive that when one has once seen the king, one can ever love another man.’”
+
+Malicorne almost jumped off the wall. “Unhappy girl! did she really say that?”
+
+“Word for word.”
+
+“And she thinks so?”
+
+“La Valliere always thinks what she says.”
+
+“That positively cries aloud for vengeance. Why, women are the veriest serpents,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Compose yourself, my dear Malicorne, compose yourself.”
+
+“No, no; let us take the evil in time, on the contrary. There is time enough yet to tell Raoul of it.”
+
+“Blunderer, on the contrary, it is too late,” replied Montalais.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“La Valliere’s remark, which was intended for the king, reached its destination.”
+
+“The king knows it, then? The king was told of it, I suppose?”
+
+“The king heard it.”
+
+“Ahime! as the cardinal used to say.”
+
+“The king was hidden in the thicket close to the royal oak.”
+
+“It follows, then,” said Malicorne, “that for the future, the plan which the king and Madame have arranged, will go as easily as if it were on wheels, and will pass over poor Bragelonne’s body.”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“Well,” said Malicorne, after a moment’s reflection, “do not let us interpose our poor selves between a large oak-tree and a great king, for we should certainly be ground to pieces.”
+
+“The very thing I was going to say to you.”
+
+“Let us think of ourselves, then.”
+
+“My own idea.”
+
+“Open your beautiful eyes, then.”
+
+“And you your large ears.”
+
+“Approach your little mouth for a kiss.”
+
+“Here,” said Montalais, who paid the debt immediately in ringing coin.
+
+“Now let us consider. First, we have M. de Guiche, who is in love with Madame; then La Valliere, who is in love with the king; next, the king, who is in love both with Madame and La Valliere; lastly Monsieur, who loves no one but himself. Among all these loves, a noodle would make his fortune: a greater reason, therefore, for sensible people like ourselves to do so.”
+
+“There you are with your dreams again.”
+
+“Nay, rather with realities. Let me still lead you, darling. I do not think you have been very badly off hitherto?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, the future is guaranteed by the past. Only, since all here think of themselves before anything else, let us do so too.”
+
+“Perfectly right.”
+
+“But of ourselves only.”
+
+“Be it so.”
+
+“An offensive and defensive alliance.”
+
+“I am ready to swear it.”
+
+“Put out your hand, then, and say, ‘All for Malicorne.’”
+
+“All for Malicorne.”
+
+“And I, ‘All for Montalais,’” replied Malicorne, stretching out his hand in his turn.
+
+“And now, what is to be done?”
+
+“Keep your eyes and ears constantly open; collect every means of attack which may be serviceable against others; never let anything lie about which can be used against ourselves.”
+
+“Agreed.”
+
+“Decided.”
+
+“Sworn to. And now the agreement entered into, good-bye.”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘good-bye?’”
+
+“Of course you can now return to your inn.”
+
+“To my inn?”
+
+“Yes; are you not lodging at the sign of the Beau Paon?”
+
+“Montalais, Montalais, you now betray that you were aware of my being at Fontainebleau.”
+
+“Well; and what does that prove, except that I occupy myself about you more than you deserve?”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Go back, then, to the Beau Paon.”
+
+“That is now quite out of the question.”
+
+“Have you not a room there?”
+
+“I had, but have it no longer.”
+
+“Who has taken it from you, then?”
+
+“I will tell you. Some little time ago I was returning there, after I had been running about after you; and having reached my hotel quite out of breath, I perceived a litter, upon which four peasants were carrying a sick monk.”
+
+“A monk?”
+
+“Yes, an old gray-bearded Franciscan. As I was looking at the monk, they entered the hotel; and as they were carrying him up the staircase, I followed, and as I reached the top of the staircase I observed that they took him into my room.”
+
+“Into your room?”
+
+“Yes, into my own apartment. Supposing it to be a mistake, I summoned the landlord, who said that the room which had been let to me for the past eight days was let to the Franciscan for the ninth.”
+
+“Oh, oh!”
+
+“That was exactly what I said; nay, I did even more, for I was inclined to get out of temper. I went up-stairs again. I spoke to the Franciscan himself, and wished to prove to him the impropriety of the step; when this monk, dying though he seemed to be, raised himself upon his arm, fixed a pair of blazing eyes upon me, and, in a voice which was admirably suited for commanding a charge of cavalry, said, ‘Turn this fellow out of doors;’ which was done, immediately by the landlord and the four porters, who made me descend the staircase somewhat faster than was agreeable. This is how it happens, dearest, that I have no lodging.”
+
+“Who can this Franciscan be?” said Montalais. “Is he a general?”
+
+“That is exactly the very title that one of the bearers of the litter gave him as he spoke to him in a low tone.”
+
+“So that -- ” said Montalais.
+
+“So that I have no room, no hotel, no lodging; and I am as determined as my friend Manicamp was just now, not to pass the night in the open air.”
+
+“What is to be done, then?” said Montalais.
+
+“Nothing easier,” said a third voice; whereupon Montalais and Malicorne uttered a simultaneous cry, and Saint-Aignan appeared. “Dear Monsieur Malicorne,” said Saint-Aignan, “a very lucky accident has brought me back to extricate you from your embarrassment. Come, I can offer you a room in my own apartments, which, I can assure you, no Franciscan will deprive you of. As for you, my dear lady, rest easy. I already knew Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s secret, and that of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; your own you have just been kind enough to confide to me; for which I thank you. I can keep three quite as well as one.” Malicorne and Montalais looked at each other, like children detected in a theft; but as Malicorne saw a great advantage in the proposition which had been made to him, he gave Montalais a sign of assent, which she returned. Malicorne then descended the ladder, round by round, reflecting at every step on the means of obtaining piecemeal from M. de Saint-Aignan all he might possibly know about the famous secret. Montalais had already darted away like a deer, and neither cross-road nor labyrinth was able to lead her wrong. As for Saint-Aignan, he carried off Malicorne with him to his apartments, showing him a thousand attentions, enchanted to have so close at hand the very two men who, even supposing De Guiche were to remain silent, could give him the best information about the maids of honor.
+
+Chapter LI. What Actually Occurred at the Inn Called the Beau Paon.
+
+In the first place, let us supply our readers with a few details about the inn called Beau Paon. It owed its name to its sign, which represented a peacock spreading its tail. But, in imitation of certain painters who bestowed the face of a handsome young man on the serpent which tempted Eve, the limner of the sign had conferred upon the peacock the features of a woman. This famous inn, an architectural epigram against that half of the human race which renders existence delightful, was situated at Fontainebleau, in the first turning on the left-hand side, which divides the road from Paris, the large artery that constitutes in itself alone the entire town of Fontainebleau. The side street in question was then known as the Rue de Lyon, doubtless because, geographically, it led in the direction of the second capital of the kingdom. The street itself was composed of two houses occupied by persons of the class of tradespeople, the houses being separated by two large gardens bordered with hedges running round them. Apparently, however, there were three houses in the street. Let us explain, notwithstanding appearances, how there were in fact only two. The inn of the Beau Paon had its principal front towards the main street; but upon the Rue de Lyon there were two ranges of buildings divided by courtyards, which comprised sets of apartments for the reception of all classes of travelers, whether on foot or on horseback, or even with their own carriages; and in which could be supplied, not only board and lodging, but also accommodation for exercise, or opportunities of solitude for even the wealthiest courtiers, whenever, after having received some check at the court, they wished to shut themselves up to their own society, either to devour an affront, or to brood on revenge. From the windows of this part of the building travelers could perceive, in the first place, the street with the grass growing between the stones, which were being gradually loosened by it; next the beautiful hedges of elder and thorn, which embraced, as though within two green and flowery arms, the house of which we have spoken; and then, in the spaces between those houses, forming the groundwork of the picture, and appearing an almost impassable barrier, a line of thick trees, the advanced sentinels of the vast forest which extends in front of Fontainebleau. It was therefore easy, provided one secured an apartment at the angle of the building, to obtain, by the main street from Paris, a view of, as well as to hear, the passers-by and the fetes; and, by the Rue de Lyon, to look upon and to enjoy the calm of the country. And this without reckoning that, in cases of urgent necessity, at the very moment people might be knocking at the principal door in the Rue de Paris, one could make one’s escape by the little door in the Rue de Lyon, and, creeping along the gardens of the private houses, attain the outskirts of the forest. Malicorne, who, it will be remembered, was the first to speak about this inn, by way of deploring his being turned out of it, being then absorbed in his own affairs, had not told Montalais all that could be said about this curious inn; and we will try to repair the omission. With the exception of the few words he had said about the Franciscan friar, Malicorne had not given any particulars about the travelers who were staying in the inn. The manner in which they had arrived, the manner in which they had lived, the difficulty which existed for every one but certain privileged travelers, of entering the hotel without a password, or living there without certain preparatory precautions, must have struck Malicorne; and, we will venture to say, really did so. But Malicorne, as we have already said, had personal matters of his own to occupy his attention which prevented him from paying much attention to others. In fact, all the apartments of the hotel were engaged and retained by certain strangers, who never stirred out, who were incommunicative in their address, with countenances full of thoughtful preoccupation, and not one of whom was known to Malicorne. Every one of these travelers had reached the hotel after his own arrival there; each man had entered after having given a kind of password, which had at first attracted Malicorne’s attention; but having inquired, in an indiscreet manner, about it, he had been informed that the host had given as a reason for this extreme vigilance, that, as the town was so full of wealthy noblemen, it must also be as full of clever and zealous pickpockets. The reputation of an honest inn like that of the Beau Paon was concerned in not allowing its visitors to be robbed. It occasionally happened that Malicorne asked himself, as he thought matters carefully over in his mind, and reflected upon his own position in the inn, how it was that they had allowed him to become an inmate of the hotel, when he had observed, since his residence there, admission refused to so many. He asked himself, too, how it was that Manicamp, who, in his opinion, must be a man to be looked upon with veneration by everybody, having wished to bait his horse at the Beau Paon, on arriving there, both horse and rider had been incontinently turned away with a nescio vos of the most positive character. All this for Malicorne, whose mind being fully occupied by his own love affair and personal ambition, was a problem he had not applied himself to solve. Had he wished to do so, we should hardly venture, notwithstanding the intelligence we have accorded as his due, to say he would have succeeded. A few words will prove to the reader that no one but Oedipus in person could have solved the enigma in question. During the week, seven travelers had taken up their abode in the inn, all of them having arrived there the day after the fortunate day on which Malicorne had fixed his choice on the Beau Paon. These seven persons, accompanied by a suitable retinue, were the following: -- 
+
+First of all, a brigadier in the German army, his secretary, physician, three servants, and seven horses. The brigadier’s name was the Comte de Wostpur. -- A Spanish cardinal, with two nephews, two secretaries, an officer of his household, and twelve horses. The cardinal’s name was Monseigneur Herrebia. -- A rich merchant of Bremen, with his man-servant and two horses. This merchant’s name was Meinheer Bonstett. -- A Venetian senator with his wife and daughter, both extremely beautiful. The senator’s name was Signor Marini. -- A Scottish laird, with seven highlanders of his clan, all on foot. The laird’s name was MacCumnor. -- An Austrian from Vienna without title or coat of arms, who had arrived in a carriage; a good deal of the priest, and something of the soldier. He was called the Councilor. -- And, finally, a Flemish lady, with a man-servant, a lady’s maid, and a female companion, a large retinue of servants, great display, and immense horses. She was called the Flemish lady.
+
+All these travelers had arrived on the same day, and yet their arrival had occasioned no confusion in the inn, no stoppage in the street; their apartments had been fixed upon beforehand, by their couriers or secretaries, who had arrived the previous evening or that very morning. Malicorne, who had arrived the previous day, riding an ill-conditioned horse, with a slender valise, had announced himself at the hotel of the Beau Paon as the friend of a nobleman desirous of witnessing the fetes, and who would himself arrive almost immediately. The landlord, on hearing these words, had smiled as if he were perfectly well acquainted either with Malicorne or his friend the nobleman, and had said to him, “Since you are the first arrival, monsieur, choose what apartment you please.” And this was said with that obsequiousness of manners, so full of meaning with landlords, which means, “Make yourself perfectly easy, monsieur: we know with whom we have to do, and you will be treated accordingly.” These words, and their accompanying gesture, Malicorne had thought very friendly, but rather obscure. However, as he did not wish to be very extravagant in his expenses, and as he thought that if he were to ask for a small apartment he would doubtless have been refused, on account of his want of consequence, he hastened to close at once with the innkeeper’s remark, and deceive him with a cunning equal to his own. So, smiling as a man would do for whom whatever might be done was but simply his due, he said, “My dear host, I shall take the best and the gayest room in the house.”
+
+“With a stable?”
+
+“Yes, with a stable.”
+
+“And when will you take it?”
+
+“Immediately if it be possible.”
+
+“Quite so.”
+
+“But,” said Malicorne, “I shall leave the large room unoccupied for the present.”
+
+“Very good!” said the landlord, with an air of intelligence.
+
+“Certain reasons, which you will understand by and by, oblige me to take, at my own cost, this small room only.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the host.
+
+“When my friend arrives, he will occupy the large apartment: and as a matter of course, as this larger apartment will be his own affair, he will settle for it himself.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the landlord, “certainly; let it be understood in that manner.”
+
+“It is agreed, then, that such shall be the terms?”
+
+“Word for word.”
+
+“It is extraordinary,” said Malicorne to himself. “You quite understand, then?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“There is nothing more to be said. Since you understand, -- for you do clearly understand, do you not?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Very well; and now show me to my room.”
+
+The landlord, cap in hand, preceded Malicorne, who installed himself in his room, and became more and more surprised to observe that the landlord, at every ascent or descent, looked and winked at him in a manner which indicated the best possible intelligence between them.
+
+“There is some mistake here,” said Malicorne to himself; “but until it is cleared up, I shall take advantage of it, which is the best thing I can possibly do.” And he darted out of his room, like a hunting-dog following a scent, in search of all the news and curiosities of the court, getting himself burnt in one place and drowned in another, as he had told Mademoiselle de Montalais. The day after he had been installed in his room, he had noticed the seven travelers arrive successively, who speedily filled the whole hotel. When he saw this perfect multitude of people, of carriages, and retinue, Malicorne rubbed his hands delightedly, thinking that, one day later, he should not have found a bed to lie upon after his return from his exploring expeditions. When all the travelers were lodged, the landlord entered Malicorne’s room, and with his accustomed courteousness, said to him, “You are aware, my dear monsieur, that the large room in the third detached building is still reserved for you?”
+
+“Of course I am aware of it.”
+
+“I am really making you a present of it.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“So that when your friend comes -- ”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“He will be satisfied with me, I hope: or, if he be not, he will be very difficult to please.”
+
+“Excuse me, but will you allow me to say a few words about my friend?”
+
+“Of course, for you have a perfect right to do so.”
+
+“He intended to come, as you know.”
+
+“And he does so still.”
+
+“He may possibly have changed his opinion.”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You are quite sure, then?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“But in case you should have some doubt.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“I can only say that I do not positively assure you that he will come.”
+
+“Yet he told you -- ”
+
+“He certainly did tell me; but you know that man proposes and God disposes, -- verba volant, scripta manent.”
+
+“Which is as much to say -- ”
+
+“That what is spoken flies away, and what is written remains; and, as he did not write to me, but contented himself by saying to me, ‘I will authorize you, yet without specifically instructing you,’ you must feel that it places me in a very embarrassing position.”
+
+“What do you authorize me to do, then?”
+
+“Why, to let your rooms if you find a good tenant for them.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you.”
+
+“Never will I do such a thing, monsieur. If he has not written to you, he has written to me.”
+
+“Ah! what does he say? Let us see if his letter agrees with his words.”
+
+“These are almost his very words. ‘To the landlord of the Beau Paon Hotel, -- You will have been informed of the meeting arranged to take place in your inn between some people of importance; I shall be one of those who will meet with the others at Fontainebleau. Keep for me, then, a small room for a friend who will arrive either before or after me -- ’ and you are the friend, I suppose,” said the landlord, interrupting his reading of the letter. Malicorne bowed modestly. The landlord continued:
+
+“‘And a large apartment for myself. The large apartment is my own affair, but I wish the price of the smaller room to be moderate, as it is destined for a fellow who is deucedly poor.’ It is still you he is speaking of, is he not?” said the host.
+
+“Oh, certainly,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Then we are agreed; your friend will settle for his apartment, and you for your own.”
+
+“May I be broken alive on the wheel,” said Malicorne to himself, “if I understand anything at all about it,” and then he said aloud, “Well, then, are you satisfied with the name?”
+
+“With what name?”
+
+“With the name at the end of the letter. Does it give you the guarantee you require?”
+
+“I was going to ask you the name.”
+
+“What! was the letter not signed?”
+
+“No,” said the landlord, opening his eyes very wide, full of mystery and curiosity.
+
+“In that case,” said Malicorne, imitating his gesture and his mysterious look, “if he has not given you his name, you understand, he must have his reasons for it.”
+
+“Oh, of course.”
+
+“And, therefore, I, his friend, his confidant, must not betray him.”
+
+“You are perfectly right, monsieur,” said the landlord, “and I do not insist upon it.”
+
+“I appreciate your delicacy. As for myself, as my friend told you, my room is a separate affair, so let us come to terms about it. Short accounts make long friends. How much is it?”
+
+“There is no hurry.”
+
+“Never mind, let us reckon it all up all the same. Room, my own board, a place in the stable for my horse, and his feed. How much per day?”
+
+“Four livres, monsieur.”
+
+“Which will make twelve livres for the three days I have been here?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“Here are your twelve livres, then.”
+
+“But why settle now?”
+
+“Because,” said Malicorne, lowering his voice, and resorting to his former air of mystery, because he saw that the mysterious had succeeded, “because if I had to set off suddenly, to decamp at any moment, my account would be settled.”
+
+“You are right, monsieur.”
+
+“I may consider myself at home, then?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“So far so well. Adieu!” And the landlord withdrew. Malicorne, left alone, reasoned with himself in the following manner: “No one but De Guiche or Manicamp could have written to this fellow; De Guiche, because he wishes to secure a lodging for himself beyond the precincts of the court, in the event of his success or failure, as the case might be; Manicamp, because De Guiche must have intrusted him with his commission. And De Guiche or Manicamp will have argued in this manner. The large apartment would serve for the reception, in a befitting manner, of a lady thickly veiled, reserving to the lady in question a double means of exit, either in a street somewhat deserted, or closely adjoining the forest. The smaller room might either shelter Manicamp for a time, who is De Guiche’s confidant, and would be the vigilant keeper of the door, or De Guiche himself, acting, for greater safety, the part of a master and confidant at the same time. Yet,” he continued, “how about this meeting which is to take place, and which has actually taken place, in this hotel? No doubt they are persons who are going to be presented to the king. And the ‘poor devil,’ for whom the smaller room is destined, is a trick, in order to better conceal De Guiche or Manicamp. If this be the case, as very likely it is, there is only half the mischief done, for there is simply the length of a purse string between Manicamp and Malicorne.” After he had thus reasoned the matter out, Malicorne slept soundly, leaving the seven travelers to occupy, and in every sense of the word to walk up and down, their several lodgings in the hotel. Whenever there was nothing at court to put him out, when he had wearied himself with his excursions and investigations, tired of writing letters which he could never find an opportunity of delivering to the people they were intended for, he returned home to his comfortable little room, and leaning upon the balcony, which was filled with nasturtiums and white pinks, for whom Fontainebleau seemed to possess no attractions with all its illuminations, amusements, and fetes.
+
+Things went on in this manner until the seventh day, a day of which we have given such full details, with its night also, in the preceding chapters. On that night Malicorne was enjoying the fresh air, seated at his window, toward one o’clock in the morning, when Manicamp appeared on horseback, with a thoughtful and listless air.
+
+“Good!” said Malicorne to himself, recognizing him at the first glance; “there’s my friend, who is come to take possession of his apartment, that is to say, of my room.” And he called to Manicamp, who looked up and immediately recognized Malicorne.
+
+“Ah! by Jove!” said the former, his countenance clearing up, “glad to see you, Malicorne. I have been wandering about Fontainebleau, looking for three things I cannot find: De Guiche, a room, and a stable.”
+
+“Of M. de Guiche I cannot give you either good or bad news, for I have not seen him; but as far as concerns your room and a stable, that’s another matter, for they have been retained here for you.”
+
+“Retained -- and by whom?”
+
+“By yourself, I presume.”
+
+“By me?”
+
+“Do you mean to say you did not take lodgings here?”
+
+“By no means,” said Manicamp.
+
+At this moment the landlord appeared on the threshold of the door.
+
+“I want a room,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Did you engage one, monsieur?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Then I have no rooms to let.”
+
+“In that case, I have engaged a room,” said Manicamp.
+
+“A room simply, or lodgings?”
+
+“Anything you please.”
+
+“By letter?” inquired the landlord.
+
+Malicorne nodded affirmatively to Manicamp.
+
+“Of course by letter,” said Manicamp. “Did you not receive a letter from me?”
+
+“What was the date of the letter?” inquired the host, in whom Manicamp’s hesitation had aroused some suspicion.
+
+Manicamp rubbed his ear, and looked up at Malicorne’s window; but Malicorne had left his window and was coming down the stairs to his friend’s assistance. At the very same moment, a traveler, wrapped in a large Spanish cloak, appeared at the porch, near enough to hear the conversation.
+
+“I ask you what was the date of the letter you wrote to me to retain apartments here?” repeated the landlord, pressing the question.
+
+“Last Wednesday was the date,” said the mysterious stranger, in a soft and polished tone of voice, touching the landlord on the shoulder.
+
+Manicamp drew back, and it was now Malicorne’s turn, who appeared on the threshold, to scratch his ear. The landlord saluted the new arrival as a man who recognizes his true guest.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said to him, with civility, “your apartment is ready for you, and the stables too, only -- ” He looked round him and inquired, “Your horses?”
+
+“My horses may or may not arrive. That, however, matters but little to you, provided you are paid for what has been engaged.” The landlord bowed lower still.
+
+“You have,” continued the unknown traveler, “kept for me in addition, the small room I asked for?”
+
+“Oh!” said Malicorne, endeavoring to hide himself.
+
+“Your friend has occupied it during the last week,” said the landlord, pointing to Malicorne, who was trying to make himself as small as possible. The traveler, drawing his cloak round him so as to cover the lower part of his face, cast a rapid glance at Malicorne, and said, “This gentleman is no friend of mine.”
+
+The landlord started violently.
+
+“I am not acquainted with this gentleman,” continued the traveler.
+
+“What!” exclaimed the host, turning to Malicorne, “are you not this gentleman’s friend, then?”
+
+“What does it matter whether I am or not, provided you are paid?” said Malicorne, parodying the stranger’s remark in a very majestic manner.
+
+“It matters so far as this,” said the landlord, who began to perceive that one person had been taken for another, “that I beg you, monsieur, to leave the rooms, which had been engaged beforehand, and by some one else instead of you.”
+
+“Still,” said Malicorne, “this gentleman cannot require at the same time a room on the first floor and an apartment on the second. If this gentleman will take the room, I will take the apartment: if he prefers the apartment, I will be satisfied with the room.”
+
+“I am exceedingly distressed, monsieur,” said the traveler in his soft voice, “but I need both the room and the apartment.”
+
+“At least, tell me for whom?” inquired Malicorne.
+
+“The apartment I require for myself.”
+
+“Very well; but the room?”
+
+“Look,” said the traveler, pointing towards a sort of procession which was approaching.
+
+Malicorne looked in the direction indicated, and observed borne upon a litter, the arrival of the Franciscan, whose installation in his apartment he had, with a few details of his own, related to Montalais, and whom he had so uselessly endeavored to convert to humbler views. The result of the arrival of the stranger, and of the sick Franciscan, was Malicorne’s expulsion, without any consideration for his feelings, from the inn, by the landlord and the peasants who had carried the Franciscan. The details have already been given of what followed this expulsion; of Manicamp’s conversation with Montalais; how Manicamp, with greater cleverness than Malicorne had shown, had succeeded in obtaining news of De Guiche, of the subsequent conversation of Montalais with Malicorne, and, finally, of the billets with which the Comte de Saint-Aignan had furnished Manicamp and Malicorne. It remains for us to inform our readers who was the traveler in the cloak -- the principal tenant of the double apartment, of which Malicorne had only occupied a portion -- and the Franciscan, quite as mysterious a personage, whose arrival, together with that of the stranger, unfortunately upset the two friends’ plans.
+
+Chapter LII. A Jesuit of the Eleventh Year.
+
+In the first place, in order not to weary the reader’s patience, we will hasten to answer the first question. The traveler with the cloak held over his face was Aramis, who, after he had left Fouquet, and taken from a portmanteau, which his servant had opened, a cavalier’s complete costume, quitted the chateau, and went to the hotel of the Beau Paon, where, by letters, seven or eight days previously, he had, as the landlord had stated, directed a room and an apartment to be retained for him. Immediately after Malicorne and Manicamp had been turned out, Aramis approached the Franciscan, and asked him whether he would prefer the apartment or the room. The Franciscan inquired where they were both situated. He was told that the room was on the first, and the apartment on the second floor.
+
+“The room, then,” he said.
+
+Aramis did not contradict him, but, with great submissiveness, said to the landlord: “The room.” And bowing with respect he withdrew into the apartment, and the Franciscan was accordingly carried at once into the room. Now, is it not extraordinary that this respect should be shown by a prelate of the Church for a simple monk, for one, too, belonging to a mendicant order; to whom was given up, without a request for it even, a room which so many travelers were desirous of obtaining? How, too, can one explain the unexpected arrival of Aramis at the hotel -- he who had entered the chateau with M. Fouquet, and could have remained at the chateau with M. Fouquet if he had liked? The Franciscan supported his removal up the staircase without uttering a complaint, although it was evident he suffered very much, and that every time the litter knocked against the wall or the railing of the staircase, he experienced a terrible shock throughout his frame. And finally, when he had arrived in the room, he said to those who carried him: “Help me to place myself in that armchair.” The bearers of the litter placed it on the ground, and lifting the sick man up as gently as possible, carried him to the chair he had indicated, which was situated at the head of the bed. “Now,” he added, with a marked benignity of gesture and tone, “desire the landlord to come.”
+
+They obeyed, and five minutes afterwards the landlord appeared at the door.
+
+“Be kind enough,” said the Franciscan to him, “to send these excellent fellows away; they are vassals of the Vicomte de Melun. They found me when I had fainted on the road overcome by the heat, and without thinking of whether they would be paid for their trouble, they wished to carry me to their own home. But I know at what cost to themselves is the hospitality which the poor extend to a sick monk, and I preferred this hotel, where, moreover, I was expected.”
+
+The landlord looked at the Franciscan in amazement, but the latter, with his thumb, made the sign of the cross in a peculiar manner upon his breast. The host replied by making a similar sign on his left shoulder. “Yes, indeed,” he said, “we did expect you, but we hoped that you would arrive in a better state of health.” And as the peasants were looking at the innkeeper, usually so supercilious, and saw how respectful he had become in the presence of a poor monk, the Franciscan drew from a deep pocket three or four pieces of gold which he held out.
+
+“My friends,” said he, “here is something to repay you for the care you have taken of me. So make yourselves perfectly easy, and do not be afraid of leaving me here. The order to which I belong, and for which I am traveling, does not require me to beg; only, as the attention you have shown me deserves to be rewarded, take these two louis and depart in peace.”
+
+The peasants did not dare to take them; the landlord took the two louis out of the monk’s hand and placed them in that of one of the peasants, all four of whom withdrew, opening their eyes wider than ever. The door was then closed; and, while the innkeeper stood respectfully near it, the Franciscan collected himself for a moment. He then passed across his sallow face a hand which seemed dried up by fever, and rubbed his nervous and agitated fingers across his beard. His large eyes, hollowed by sickness and inquietude, seemed to peruse in the vague distance a mournful and fixed idea.
+
+“What physicians have you at Fontainebleau?” he inquired, after a long pause.
+
+“We have three, holy father.”
+
+“What are their names?”
+
+“Luiniguet first.”
+
+“The next one?”
+
+“A brother of the Carmelite order, named Brother Hubert.”
+
+“The next?”
+
+“A secular member, named Grisart.”
+
+“Ah! Grisart?” murmured the monk, “send for M. Grisart immediately.”
+
+The landlord moved in prompt obedience to the direction.
+
+“Tell me what priests are there here?”
+
+“What priests?”
+
+“Yes; belonging to what orders?”
+
+“There are Jesuits, Augustines, and Cordeliers; but the Jesuits are the closest at hand. Shall I send for a confessor belonging to the order of Jesuits?”
+
+“Yes, immediately.”
+
+It will be imagined that, at the sign of the cross which they had exchanged, the landlord and the invalid monk had recognized each other as two affiliated members of the well-known Society of Jesus. Left to himself, the Franciscan drew from his pocket a bundle of papers, some of which he read over with the most careful attention. The violence of his disorder, however, overcame his courage; his eyes rolled in their sockets, a cold sweat poured down his face, and he nearly fainted, and lay with his head thrown backwards and his arms hanging down on both sides of his chair. For more than five minutes he remained without any movement, when the landlord returned, bringing with him the physician, whom he hardly allowed time to dress himself. The noise they made in entering the room, the current of air, which the opening of the door occasioned, restored the Franciscan to his senses. He hurriedly seized hold of the papers which were lying about, and with his long and bony hand concealed them under the cushions of the chair. The landlord went out of the room, leaving patient and physician together.
+
+“Come here, Monsieur Grisart,” said the Franciscan to the doctor; “approach closer, for there is no time to lose. Try, by touch and sound, and consider and pronounce your sentence.”
+
+“The landlord,” replied the doctor, “told me I had the honor of attending an affiliated brother.”
+
+“Yes,” replied the Franciscan, “it is so. Tell me the truth, then; I feel very ill, and I think I am about to die.”
+
+The physician took the monk’s hand, and felt his pulse. “Oh, oh,” he said, “a dangerous fever.”
+
+“What do you call a dangerous fever?” inquired the Franciscan, with an imperious look.
+
+“To an affiliated member of the first or second year,” replied the physician, looking inquiringly at the monk, “I should say -- a fever that may be cured.”
+
+“But to me?” said the Franciscan. The physician hesitated.
+
+“Look at my grey hair, and my forehead, full of anxious thought,” he continued: “look at the lines in my face, by which I reckon up the trials I have undergone; I am a Jesuit of the eleventh year, Monsieur Grisart.” The physician started, for, in fact, a Jesuit of the eleventh year was one of those men who had been initiated in all the secrets of the order, one of those for whom science has no more secrets, the society no further barriers to present -- temporal obedience, no more trammels.
+
+“In that case,” said Grisart, saluting him with respect, “I am in the presence of a master?”
+
+“Yes; act, therefore, accordingly.”
+
+“And you wish to know?”
+
+“My real state.”
+
+“Well,” said the physician, “it is a brain fever, which has reached its highest degree of intensity.”
+
+“There is no hope, then?” inquired the Franciscan, in a quick tone of voice.
+
+“I do not say that,” replied the doctor; “yet, considering the disordered state of the brain, the hurried respiration, the rapidity of the pulse, and the burning nature of the fever which is devouring you -- ”
+
+“And which has thrice prostrated me since this morning,” said the monk.
+
+“All things considered, I shall call it a terrible attack. But why did you not stop on your road?”
+
+“I was expected here, and I was obliged to come.”
+
+“Even at the risk of your life?”
+
+“Yes, at the risk of dying on the way.”
+
+“Very well. Considering all the symptoms of your case, I must tell you that your condition is almost desperate.”
+
+The Franciscan smiled in a strange manner.
+
+“What you have just told me is, perhaps, sufficient for what is due to an affiliated member, even of the eleventh year; but for what is due to me, Monsieur Grisart, it is too little, and I have a right to demand more. Come, then, let us be more candid still, and as frank as if you were making your own confession to Heaven. Besides, I have already sent for a confessor.”
+
+“Oh! I have hopes, however,” murmured the doctor.
+
+“Answer me,” said the sick man, displaying with a dignified gesture a golden ring, the stone of which had until that moment been turned inside, and which bore engraved thereon the distinguishing mark of the Society of Jesus.
+
+Grisart uttered loud exclamation. “The general!” he cried.
+
+“Silence,” said the Franciscan., “you can now understand that the whole truth is all important.”
+
+“Monseigneur, monseigneur,” murmured Grisart, “send for the confessor, for in two hours, at the next seizure, you will be attacked by delirium, and will pass away in its course.”
+
+“Very well,” said the patient, for a moment contracting his eyebrows, “I have still two hours to live then?”
+
+“Yes; particularly if you take the potion I will send you presently.”
+
+“And that will give me two hours of life?”
+
+“Two hours.”
+
+“I would take it, were it poison, for those two hours are necessary not only for myself, but for the glory of the order.”
+
+“What a loss, what a catastrophe for us all!” murmured the physician.
+
+“It is the loss of one man -- nothing more,” replied the Franciscan, “for Heaven will enable the poor monk, who is about to leave you, to find a worthy successor. Adieu, Monsieur Grisart; already even, through the goodness of Heaven, I have met with you. A physician who had not been one of our holy order, would have left me in ignorance of my condition; and, confident that existence would be prolonged a few days further, I should not have taken the necessary precautions. You are a learned man, Monsieur Grisart, and that confers an honor upon us all; it would have been repugnant to my feelings to have found one of our order of little standing in his profession. Adieu, Monsieur Grisart; send me the cordial immediately.”
+
+“Give me your blessing, at least, monseigneur.”
+
+“In my mind, I do; go, go; in my mind, I do so, I tell you -- animo, Maitre Grisart, viribus impossibile.” And he again fell back on the armchair, in an almost senseless state. M. Grisart hesitated, whether he should give him immediate assistance, or should run to prepare the cordial he had promised. He decided in favor of the cordial, for he darted out of the room and disappeared down the staircase. [6]
+
+Chapter LIII. The State Secret.
+
+A few moments after the doctor’s departure, the confessor arrived. He had hardly crossed the threshold of the door when the Franciscan fixed a penetrating look upon him, and, shaking his head, murmured -- “A weak mind, I see; may Heaven forgive me if I die without the help of this living piece of human infirmity.” The confessor, on his side, regarded the dying man with astonishment, almost with terror. He had never beheld eyes so burningly bright at the very moment they were about to close, nor looks so terrible at the moment they were about to be quenched in death. The Franciscan made a rapid and imperious movement of his hand. “Sit down, there, my father,” he said, “and listen to me.” The Jesuit confessor, a good priest, a recently initiated member of the order, who had merely seen the beginning of its mysteries, yielded to the superiority assumed by the penitent.
+
+“There are several persons staying in this hotel,” continued the Franciscan.
+
+“But,” inquired the Jesuit, “I thought I had been summoned to listen to a confession. Is your remark, then, a confession?”
+
+“Why do you ask?”
+
+“In order to know whether I am to keep your words secret.”
+
+“My remarks are part of my confession; I confide them to you in your character of a confessor.”
+
+“Very well,” said the priest, seating himself on the chair which the Franciscan had, with great difficulty, just left, to lie down on the bed.
+
+The Franciscan continued, -- “I repeat, there are several persons staying in this inn.”
+
+“So I have heard.”
+
+“They ought to be eight in number.”
+
+The Jesuit made a sign that he understood him. “The first to whom I wish to speak,” said the dying man, “is a German from Vienna, whose name is Baron de Wostpur. Be kind enough to go to him, and tell him the person he expected has arrived.” The confessor, astounded, looked at his penitent; the confession seemed a singular one.
+
+“Obey,” said the Franciscan, in a tone of command impossible to resist. The good Jesuit, completely subdued, rose and left the room. As soon as he had gone, the Franciscan again took up the papers which a crisis of the fever had already, once before, obliged him to put aside.
+
+“The Baron de Wostpur? Good!” he said; “ambitious, a fool, and straitened in means.”
+
+He folded up the papers, which he thrust under his pillow. Rapid footsteps were heard at the end of the corridor. The confessor returned, followed by the Baron de Wostpur, who walked along with his head raised, as if he were discussing with himself the possibility of touching the ceiling with the feather in his hat. Therefore, at the appearance of the Franciscan, at his melancholy look, and seeing the plainness of the room, he stopped, and inquired, -- “Who has summoned me?”
+
+“I,” said the Franciscan, who turned towards the confessor, saying, “My good father, leave us for a moment together; when this gentleman leaves, you will return here.” The Jesuit left the room, and, doubtless, availed himself of this momentary exile from the presence of the dying man to ask the host for some explanation about this strange penitent, who treated his confessor no better than he would a man servant. The baron approached the bed, and wished to speak, but the hand of the Franciscan imposed silence upon him.
+
+“Every moment is precious,” said the latter, hurriedly. “You have come here for the competition, have you not?”
+
+“Yes, my father.”
+
+“You hope to be elected general of the order?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“You know on what conditions only you can possibly attain this high position, which makes one man the master of monarchs, the equal of popes?”
+
+“Who are you,” inquired the baron, “to subject me to these interrogations?”
+
+“I am he whom you expected.”
+
+“The elector-general?”
+
+“I am the elected.”
+
+“You are -- ”
+
+The Franciscan did not give him time to reply; he extended his shrunken hand, on which glittered the ring of the general of the order. The baron drew back in surprise; and then, immediately afterwards, bowing with the profoundest respect, he exclaimed, -- “Is it possible that you are here, monseigneur; you, in this wretched room; you, upon this miserable bed; you, in search of and selecting the future general, that is, your own successor?”
+
+“Do not distress yourself about that, monsieur, but fulfil immediately the principal condition, of furnishing the order with a secret of importance, of such importance that one of the greatest courts of Europe will, by your instrumentality, forever be subjected to the order. Well! do you possess the secret which you promised, in your request, addressed to the grand council?”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“Let us proceed, however, in due order,” said the monk. “You are the Baron de Wostpur?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“And this letter is from you?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+The general of the Jesuits drew a paper from his bundle, and presented it to the baron, who glanced at it, and made a sign in the affirmative, saying, “Yes, monseigneur, this letter is mine.”
+
+“Can you show me the reply which the secretary of the grand council returned to you?”
+
+“Here it is,” said the baron, holding towards the Franciscan a letter bearing simply the address, “To his excellency the Baron de Wostpur,” and containing only this phrase, “From the 15th to the 22nd May, Fontainebleau, the hotel of the Beau Paon. -- A. M. D. G.” [7]
+
+“Right,” said the Franciscan, “and now speak.”
+
+“I have a body of troops, composed of 50,000 men; all the officers are gained over. I am encamped on the Danube. In four days I can overthrow the emperor, who is, as you are aware, opposed to the progress of our order, and can replace him by whichever of the princes of his family the order may determine upon.” The Franciscan listened, unmoved.
+
+“Is that all?” he said.
+
+“A revolution throughout Europe is included in my plan,” said the baron.
+
+“Very well, Monsieur de Wostpur, you will receive a reply; return to your room, and leave Fontainebleau within a quarter of an hour.” The baron withdrew backwards, as obsequiously as if he were taking leave of the emperor he was ready to betray.
+
+“There is no secret there,” murmured the Franciscan, “it is a plot. Besides,” he added, after a moment’s reflection, “the future of Europe is no longer in the hands of the House of Austria.”
+
+And with a pencil he held in his hand, he struck the Baron de Wostpur’s name from the list.
+
+“Now for the cardinal,” he said; “we ought to get something more serious from the side of Spain.”
+
+Raising his head, he perceived the confessor, who was awaiting his orders as respectfully as a school-boy.
+
+“Ah, ah!” he said, noticing his submissive air, “you have been talking with the landlord.”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur; and to the physician.”
+
+“To Grisart?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“He is here, then?”
+
+“He is waiting with the potion he promised.”
+
+“Very well; if I require him, I will call; you now understand the great importance of my confession, do you not?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“Then go and fetch me the Spanish Cardinal Herrebia. Make haste. Only, as you now understand the matter in hand, you will remain near me, for I begin to feel faint.”
+
+“Shall I summon the physician?”
+
+“Not yet, not yet... the Spanish cardinal, no one else. Fly.”
+
+Five minutes afterwards, the cardinal, pale and disturbed, entered the little room.
+
+“I am informed, monseigneur, -- ” stammered the cardinal.
+
+“To the point,” said the Franciscan, in a faint voice, showing the cardinal a letter which he had written to the grand council. “Is that your handwriting?”
+
+“Yes, but -- ”
+
+“And your summons?”
+
+The cardinal hesitated to answer. His purple revolted against the mean garb of the poor Franciscan, who stretched out his hand and displayed the ring, which produced its effect, greater in proportion to the greatness of the person over whom the Franciscan exercised his influence.
+
+“Quick, the secret, the secret!” said the dying man, leaning upon his confessor.
+
+“Coram isto?” inquired the Spanish cardinal. [8]
+
+“Speak in Spanish,” said the Franciscan, showing the liveliest attention.
+
+“You are aware, monseigneur,” said the cardinal, continuing the conversation in Castilian, “that the condition of the marriage of the Infanta with the king of France was the absolute renunciation of the rights of the said Infanta, as well as of King Louis XIV., to all claim to the crown of Spain.” The Franciscan made a sign in the affirmative.
+
+“The consequence is,” continued the cardinal, “that the peace and alliance between the two kingdoms depend upon the observance of that clause of the contract.” A similar sign from the Franciscan. “Not only France and Spain,” continued the cardinal, “but the whole of Europe even, would be violently rent asunder by the faithlessness of either party.” Another movement of the dying man’s head.
+
+“It further results,” continued the speaker, “that the man who might be able to foresee events, and to render certain that which is no more than a vague idea floating in the mind of man, that is to say, the idea of a future good or evil, would preserve the world from a great catastrophe; and the event, which has no fixed certainty even in the brain of him who originated it, could be turned to the advantage of our order.”
+
+“Pronto, pronto!” murmured the Franciscan, in Spanish, who suddenly became paler, and leaned upon the priest. The cardinal approached the ear of the dying man, and said, “Well, monseigneur, I know that the king of France has determined that, at the very first pretext, a death for instance, either that of the king of Spain, or that of a brother of the Infanta, France will, arms in hand, claim the inheritance, and I have in my possession, already prepared, the plan of policy agreed upon by Louis XIV. for this occasion.”
+
+“And this plan?” said the Franciscan.
+
+“Here it is,” returned the cardinal.
+
+“In whose handwriting is it?”
+
+“My own.”
+
+“Have you anything further to say to me?”
+
+“I think I have said a good deal, my lord,” replied the cardinal.
+
+“Yes, you have rendered the order a great service. But how did you procure the details, by the aid of which you have constructed your plan?”
+
+“I have the under-servants of the king of France in my pay, and I obtain from them all the waste papers, which have been saved from being burnt.”
+
+“Very ingenious,” murmured the Franciscan, endeavoring to smile; “you will leave this hotel, cardinal, in a quarter of an hour, and a reply shall be sent you.” The cardinal withdrew.
+
+“Call Grisart, and desire the Venetian Marini to come,” said the sick man.
+
+While the confessor obeyed, the Franciscan, instead of striking out the cardinal’s name, as he had done the baron’s, made a cross at the side of it. Then, exhausted by the effort, he fell back on his bed, murmuring the name of Dr. Grisart. When he returned to his senses, he had drunk about half of the potion, of which the remainder was left in the glass, and he found himself supported by the physician, while the Venetian and the confessor were standing close to the door. The Venetian submitted to the same formalities as his two predecessors, hesitated as they had done at the sight of the two strangers, but his confidence restored by the order of the general, he revealed that the pope, terrified at the power of the order, was weaving a plot for the general expulsion of the Jesuits, and was tampering with the different courts of Europe in order to obtain their assistance. He described the pontiff’s auxiliaries, his means of action, and indicated the particular locality in the Archipelago where, by a sudden surprise, two cardinals, adepts of the eleventh year, and, consequently, high in authority, were to be transported, together with thirty-two of the principal affiliated members of Rome. The Franciscan thanked the Signor Marini. It was by no means a slight service he had rendered the society by denouncing this pontifical project. The Venetian thereupon received directions to set off in a quarter of an hour, and left as radiant as if he already possessed the ring, the sign of the supreme authority of the society. As, however, he was departing, the Franciscan murmured to himself: “All these men are either spies, or a sort of police, not one of them a general; they have all discovered a plot, but not one of them a secret. It is not by means of ruin, or war, or force, that the Society of Jesus is to be governed, but by that mysterious influence moral superiority alone confers. No, the man is not yet found, and to complete the misfortune, Heaven strikes me down, and I am dying. Oh! must the society indeed fall with me for want of a column to support it? Must death, which is waiting for me, swallow up with me the future of the order; that future which ten years more of my own life would have rendered eternal? for that future, with the reign of the new king, is opening radiant and full of splendor.” These words, which had been half-reflected, half-pronounced aloud, were listened to by the Jesuit confessor with a terror similar to that with which one listens to the wanderings of a person attacked by fever, whilst Grisart, with a mind of higher order, devoured them as the revelations of an unknown world, in which his looks were plunged without ability to comprehend. Suddenly the Franciscan recovered himself.
+
+“Let us finish this,” he said; “death is approaching. Oh! just now I was dying resignedly, for I hoped... while now I sink in despair, unless those who remain... Grisart, Grisart, give me to live a single hour longer.”
+
+Grisart approached the dying monk, and made him swallow a few drops, not of the potion which was still left in the glass, but of the contents of a small bottle he had upon his person.
+
+“Call the Scotchman!” exclaimed the Franciscan; “call the Bremen merchant. Call, call quickly. I am dying. I am suffocated.”
+
+The confessor darted forward to seek assistance, as if there had been any human strength which could hold back the hand of death, which was weighing down the sick man; but, at the threshold of the door, he found Aramis, who, with his finger on his lips, like the statue of Harpocrates, the god of silence, by a look motioned him back to the end of the apartment. The physician and the confessor, after having consulted each other by looks, made a movement as if to push Aramis aside, who, however, with two signs of the cross, each made in a different manner, transfixed them both in their places.
+
+“A chief!” they both murmured.
+
+Aramis slowly advanced into the room where the dying man was struggling against the first attack of the agony which had seized him. As for the Franciscan, whether owing to the effect of the elixir, or whether the appearance of Aramis had restored his strength, he made a movement, and his eyes glaring, his mouth half open, and his hair damp with sweat, sat up upon the bed. Aramis felt that the air of the room was stifling; the windows were closed; the fire was burning upon the hearth; a pair of candles of yellow wax were guttering down in the copper candlesticks, and still further increased, by their thick smoke, the temperature of the room. Aramis opened the window, and fixing upon the dying man a look full of intelligence and respect, said to him: “Monseigneur, pray forgive my coming in this manner, before you summoned me, but your state alarms me, and I thought you might possibly die before you had seen me, for I am but the sixth upon your list.”
+
+The dying man started and looked at the list.
+
+“You are, therefore, he who was formerly called Aramis, and since, the Chevalier d’Herblay? You are the bishop of Vannes?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“I know you, I have seen you.”
+
+“At the last jubilee, we were with the Holy Father together.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I remember; and you place yourself on the list of candidates?”
+
+“Monseigneur, I have heard it said that the order required to become possessed of a great state secret, and knowing that from modesty you had in anticipation resigned your functions in favor of the person who should be the depositary of such a secret, I wrote to say that I was ready to compete, possessing alone a secret I believe to be important.”
+
+“Speak,” said the Franciscan; “I am ready to listen to you, and to judge the importance of the secret.”
+
+“A secret of the value of that which I have the honor to confide to you cannot be communicated by word of mouth. Any idea which, when once expressed, has thereby lost its safeguard, and has become vulgarized by any manifestation or communication of it whatever, no longer is the property of him who gave it birth. My words may be overheard by some listener, or perhaps by an enemy; one ought not, therefore, to speak at random, for, in such a case, the secret would cease to be one.”
+
+“How do you propose, then, to convey your secret?” inquired the dying monk.
+
+With one hand Aramis signed to the physician and the confessor to withdraw, and with the other he handed to the Franciscan a paper enclosed in a double envelope.
+
+“Is not writing more dangerous still than language?”
+
+“No, my lord,” said Aramis, “for you will find within this envelope characters which you and I alone can understand.” The Franciscan looked at Aramis with an astonishment which momentarily increased.
+
+“It is a cipher,” continued the latter, “which you used in 1655, and which your secretary, Juan Jujan, who is dead, could alone decipher, if he were restored to life.”
+
+“You knew this cipher, then?”
+
+“It was I who taught it him,” said Aramis, bowing with a gracefulness full of respect, and advancing towards the door as if to leave the room: but a gesture of the Franciscan accompanied by a cry for him to remain, restrained him.
+
+“Ecce homo!” he exclaimed; then reading the paper a second time, he called out, “Approach, approach quickly!”
+
+Aramis returned to the side of the Franciscan, with the same calm countenance and the same respectful manner, unchanged. The Franciscan, extending his arm, burnt by the flame of the candle the paper which Aramis had handed him. Then, taking hold of Aramis’s hand, he drew him towards him, and inquired: “In what manner and by whose means could you possibly become acquainted with such a secret?”
+
+“Through Madame de Chevreuse, the intimate friend and confidante of the queen.”
+
+“And Madame de Chevreuse -- ”
+
+“Is dead.”
+
+“Did any others know it?”
+
+“A man and a woman only, and they of the lower classes.”
+
+“Who are they?”
+
+“Persons who had brought him up.”
+
+“What has become of them?”
+
+“Dead also. This secret burns like vitriol.”
+
+“But you survive?”
+
+“No one is aware that I know it.”
+
+“And for what length of time have you possessed this secret?”
+
+“For the last fifteen years.”
+
+“And you have kept it?”
+
+“I wished to live.”
+
+“And you give it to the order without ambition, without acknowledgement?”
+
+“I give it to the order with ambition and with a hope of return,” said Aramis; “for if you live, my lord, you will make of me, now you know me, what I can and ought to be.”
+
+“And as I am dying,” exclaimed the Franciscan, “I constitute you my successor... Thus.” And drawing off the ring, he passed it on Aramis’s finger. Then, turning towards the two spectators of this scene, he said: “Be ye witnesses of this, and testify, if need be, that, sick in body, but sound in mind, I have freely and voluntarily bestowed this ring, the token of supreme authority, upon Monseigneur d’Herblay, bishop of Vannes, whom I nominate my successor, and before whom I, an humble sinner, about to appear before Heaven, prostrate myself, as an example for all to follow.” And the Franciscan bowed lowly and submissively, whilst the physician and the Jesuit fell on their knees. Aramis, even while he became paler than the dying man himself, bent his looks successively upon all the actors of this scene. Profoundly gratified ambition flowed with life-blood towards his heart.
+
+“We must lose no time,” said the Franciscan; “what I had still to do on earth was urgent. I shall never succeed in carrying it out.”
+
+“I will do it,” said Aramis.
+
+“It is well,” said the Franciscan, and then turning towards the Jesuit and the doctor, he added, “Leave us alone,” a direction they instantly obeyed.
+
+“With this sign,” he said, “you are the man needed to shake the world from one end to the other; with this sign you will overthrow; with this sign you will edify; in hoc signo vinces!” [9]
+
+“Close the door,” continued the Franciscan after a pause. Aramis shut and bolted the door, and returned to the side of the Franciscan.
+
+“The pope is conspiring against the order,” said the monk; “the pope must die.”
+
+“He shall die,” said Aramis, quietly.
+
+“Seven hundred thousand livres are owing to a Bremen merchant of the name of Bonstett, who came here to get the guarantee of my signature.”
+
+“He shall be paid,” said Aramis.
+
+“Six knights of Malta, whose names are written here, have discovered, by the indiscretion of one of the affiliated of the eleventh year, the three mysteries; it must be ascertained what else these men have done with the secret, to get it back again and bury it.”
+
+“It shall be done.”
+
+“Three dangerous affiliated members must be sent away into Tibet, there to perish; they stand condemned. Here are their names.”
+
+“I will see that the sentence be carried out.”
+
+“Lastly, there is a lady at Anvers, grand-niece of Ravaillac; she holds certain papers in her hands that compromise the order. There has been payable to the family during the last fifty-one years a pension of fifty thousand livres. The pension is a heavy one, and the order is not wealthy. Redeem the papers, for a sum of money paid down, or, in case of refusal, stop the pension -- but run no risk.”
+
+“I will quickly decide what is best to be done,” said Aramis.
+
+“A vessel chartered from Lima entered the port of Lisbon last week; ostensibly it is laden with chocolate, in reality with gold. Every ingot is concealed by a coating of chocolate. The vessel belongs to the order; it is worth seventeen millions of livres; you will see that it is claimed; here are the bills of landing.”
+
+“To what port shall I direct it to be taken?”
+
+“To Bayonne.”
+
+“Before three weeks are over it shall be there, wind and weather permitting. Is that all?” The Franciscan made a sign in the affirmative, for he could no longer speak; the blood rushed to his throat and his head, and gushed from his mouth, his nostrils, and his eyes. The dying man had barely time to press Aramis’s hand, when he fell in convulsions from his bed upon the floor. Aramis placed his hand upon the Franciscan’s heart, but it had ceased to beat. As he stooped down, Aramis observed that a fragment of the paper he had given the Franciscan had escaped being burnt. He picked it up, and burnt it to the last atom. Then, summoning the confessor and the physician, he said to the former: “Your penitent is in heaven; he needs nothing more than prayers and the burial bestowed upon the pious dead. Go and prepare what is necessary for a simple interment, such as a poor monk only would require. Go.”
+
+The Jesuit left the room. Then, turning towards the physician, and observing his pale and anxious face, he said, in a low tone of voice: “Monsieur Grisart, empty and clean this glass; there is too much left in it of what the grand council desired you to put in.”
+
+Grisart, amazed, overcome, completely astounded, almost fell backwards in his extreme terror. Aramis shrugged his shoulders in sign of pity, took the glass, and poured out the contents among the ashes of the hearth. He then left the room, carrying the papers of the dead man with him.
+
+Chapter LIV. A Mission.
+
+The next day, or rather the same day (for the events we have just described were concluded only at three o’clock in the morning), before breakfast was served, and as the king was preparing to go to mass with the two queens; as Monsieur, with the Chevalier de Lorraine, and a few other intimate companions, was mounting his horse to set off for the river, to take one of those celebrated baths with which the ladies of the court were so infatuated, as, in fact, no one remained in the chateau, with the exception of Madame who, under the pretext of indisposition, would not leave her room; Montalais was seen, or rather not was not seen, to glide stealthily out of the room appropriated to the maids of honor, leading La Valliere after her, who tried to conceal herself as much as possible, and both of them, hurrying secretly through the gardens, succeeded, looking round them at every step they took, in reaching the thicket. The weather was cloudy, a warm breeze bowed the flowers and the shrubs, the burning dust, swept along in clouds by the wind, was whirled in eddies towards the trees. Montalais, who, during their progress, had discharged the functions of a clever scout, advanced a few steps further, and turning round again, to be quite sure that no one was either listening or approaching, said to her companion, “Thank goodness, we are quite alone! Since yesterday every one spies on us here, and a circle seems to be drawn round us, as if we were plague-stricken.” La Valliere bent down her head and sighed. “It is positively unheard of,” continued Montalais; “from M. Malicorne to M. de Saint-Aignan, every one wishes to get hold of our secret. Come, Louise, let us take counsel, you and I, together, in order that I may know what to do.”
+
+La Valliere lifted towards her companion her beautiful eyes, pure and deep as the azure of a spring sky, “And I,” she said, “will ask you why we have been summoned to Madame’s own room? Why have we slept close to her apartment, instead of sleeping as usual in our own? Why did you return so late, and whence are these measures of strict supervision which have been adopted since this morning, with respect to us both?”
+
+“My dear Louise, you answer my question by another, or rather, by ten others, which is not answering me at all. I will tell you all you want to know later, and as it is of secondary importance, you can wait. What I ask you -- for everything will depend upon that -- is, whether there is or is not any secret?”
+
+“I do not know if there is any secret,” said La Valliere; “but I do know, for my part at least, that there has been great imprudence committed. Since the foolish remark I made, and my still more silly fainting yesterday, every one here is making remarks about us.”
+
+“Speak for yourself,” said Montalais, laughing, “speak for yourself and for Tonnay-Charente; for both of you made your declarations of love to the skies, which unfortunately were intercepted.”
+
+La Valliere hung down her head. “Really you overwhelm me,” she said.
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you torture me with your jests.”
+
+“Listen to me, Louise. These are no jests, for nothing is more serious; on the contrary, I did not drag you out of the chateau; I did not miss attending mass; I did not pretend to have a cold, as Madame did, which she has no more than I have; and, lastly, I did not display ten times more diplomacy than M. Colbert inherited from M. de Mazarin, and makes use of with respect to M. Fouquet, in order to find means of confiding my perplexities to you, for the sole end and purpose that, when at last we were alone, with no one to listen to us, you should deal hypocritically with me. No, no; believe me, that when I ask you a question, it is not from curiosity alone, but really because the position is a critical one. What you said yesterday is now known, -- it is a text on which every one is discoursing. Every one embellishes it to the utmost, and according to his own fancy; you had the honor last night, and you have it still to-day, of occupying the whole court, my dear Louise; and the number of tender and witty remarks which have been ascribed to you, would make Mademoiselle de Scudery and her brother burst from very spite, if they were faithfully reported.”
+
+“But, dearest Montalais,” said the poor girl, “you know better than any one exactly what I said, since you were present when I said it.”
+
+“Yes, I know. But that is not the question. I have not forgotten a single syllable you uttered, but did you think what you were saying?”
+
+Louise became confused. “What,” she exclaimed, “more questions still! Oh, heavens! when I would give the world to forget what I did say, how does it happen that every one does all he possibly can to remind me of it? Oh, this is indeed terrible!”
+
+“What is?”
+
+“To have a friend who ought to spare me, who might advise me and help me to save myself, and yet who is undoing me -- is killing me.”
+
+“There, there, that will do,” said Montalais; “after having said too little, you now say too much. No one thinks of killing you, nor even of robbing you, even of your secret; I wish to have it voluntarily, and in no other way; for the question does not concern your own affairs only, but ours also; and Tonnay-Charente would tell you as I do, if she were here. For, the fact is, that last evening she wished to have some private conversation in our room, and I was going there after the Manicamp and Malicorne colloquies terminated, when I learned, on my return, rather late, it is true, that Madame had sequestered her maids of honor, and that we were to sleep in her apartments, instead of our own. Moreover, Madame has shut up her maids of honor in order that they should not have the time to concert any measures together, and this morning she was closeted with Tonnay-Charente with the same object. Tell me, then, to what extent Athenais and I can rely upon you, as we will tell you in what way you can rely upon us?”
+
+“I do not clearly understand the question you have put,” said Louise, much agitated.
+
+“Hum! and yet, on the contrary, you seem to understand me very well. However, I will put my questions in a more precise manner, in order that you may not be able, in the slightest degree, to evade them. Listen to me: Do you love M. de Bragelonne? That is plain enough, is it not?”
+
+At this question, which fell like the first bombshell of a besieging army into a doomed town, Louise started. “You ask me,” she exclaimed, “if I love Raoul, the friend of my childhood, -- my brother almost?”
+
+“No, no, no! Again you evade me, or rather, you wish to escape me. I do not ask if you love Raoul, your childhood’s friend, -- your brother; but I ask if you love the Vicomte de Bragelonne, your affianced husband?”
+
+“Good heavens! dear Montalais,” said Louise, “how severe your tone is!”
+
+“You deserve no indulgence, -- I am neither more nor less severe than usual. I put a question to you, so answer it.”
+
+“You certainly do not,” said Louise, in a choking voice, “speak to me like a friend; but I will answer you as a true friend.”
+
+“Well, do so.”
+
+“Very well; my heart is full of scruples and silly feelings of pride, with respect to everything that a woman ought to keep secret, and in this respect no one has ever read into the bottom of my soul.”
+
+“That I know very well. If I had read it, I should not interrogate you as I have done; I should simply say, -- ‘My good Louise, you have the happiness of an acquaintance with M. de Bragelonne, who is an excellent young man, and an advantageous match for a girl without fortune. M. de la Fere will leave something like fifteen thousand livres a year to his son. At a future day, then, you, as this son’s wife, will have fifteen thousand livres a year; which is not bad. Turn, then, neither to the right hand nor to the left, but go frankly to M. de Bragelonne; that is to say, to the altar to which he will lead you. Afterwards, why -- afterwards, according to his disposition, you will be emancipated or enslaved; in other words, you will have a right to commit any piece of folly people commit who have either too much liberty or too little.’ That is, my dear Louise, what I should have told you at first, if I had been able to read your heart.”
+
+“And I should have thanked you,” stammered out Louise, “although the advice does not appear to me to be altogether sound.”
+
+“Wait, wait. But immediately after having given you that advice, I should have added, -- ‘Louise, it is very dangerous to pass whole days with your head drooping, your hands unoccupied, your eyes restless and full of thought; it is dangerous to prefer the least frequented paths, and no longer be amused with such diversions as gladden young girls’ hearts; it is dangerous, Louise, to scrawl with the point of your foot, as you do, upon the gravel, certain letters it is useless for you to efface, but which appear again under your heel, particularly when those letters rather resemble the letter L than the letter B; and, lastly, it is dangerous to allow the mind to dwell on a thousand wild fancies, the fruits of solitude and heartache; these fancies, while they sink into a young girl’s mind, make her cheeks sink in also, so that it is not unusual, on such occasions, to find the most delightful persons in the world become the most disagreeable, and the wittiest to become the dullest.’”
+
+“I thank you, dearest Aure,” replied La Valliere, gently; “it is like you to speak to me in this manner, and I thank you for it.”
+
+“It was only for the benefit of wild dreamers, such as I have just described, that I spoke; do not take any of my words, then, to yourself, except such as you think you deserve. Stay, I hardly know what story recurs to my memory of some silly or melancholy girl, who was gradually pining away because she fancied that the prince, or the king, or the emperor, whoever it was -- and it does not matter much which -- had fallen in love with her; while on the contrary, the prince, or the king, or the emperor, whichever you please, was plainly in love with some one else, and -- a singular circumstance, one, indeed, which she could not perceive, although every one around and about her perceived it clearly enough -- made use of her as a screen for his own love affair. You laugh as I do, at this poor silly girl, do you not, Louise?”
+
+“I? -- oh! of course,” stammered Louise, pale as death.
+
+“And you are right, too, for the thing is amusing enough. The story, whether true or false, amused me, and so I remembered it and told it to you. Just imagine then, my good Louise, the mischief that such a melancholy would create in anybody’s brain, -- a melancholy, I mean, of that kind. For my own part, I resolved to tell you the story; for if such a thing were to happen to either of us, it would be most essential to be assured of its truth; to-day it is a snare, to-morrow it would become a jest and mockery, the next day it would mean death itself.” La Valliere started again, and became, if possible, still paler.
+
+“Whenever a king takes notice of us,” continued Montalais, “he lets us see it easily enough, and, if we happen to be the object he covets, he knows very well how to gain his object. You see, then, Louise, that, in such circumstances, between young girls exposed to such a danger as the one in question, the most perfect confidence should exist, in order that those hearts which are not disposed towards melancholy may watch over those likely to become so.”
+
+“Silence, silence!” said La Valliere; “some one approaches.”
+
+“Some one is approaching fast, in fact,” said Montalais; “but who can it possibly be? Everybody is away, either at mass with the king, or bathing with Monsieur.”
+
+At the end of the walk the young girls perceived almost immediately, beneath the arching trees, the graceful carriage and noble stature of a young man, who, with his sword under his arm and a cloak thrown across his shoulders, booted and spurred besides, saluted them from the distance with a gentle smile. “Raoul!” exclaimed Montalais.
+
+“M. de Bragelonne!” murmured Louise.
+
+“A very proper judge to decide upon our difference of opinion,” said Montalais.
+
+“Oh! Montalais, Montalais, for pity’s sake,” exclaimed La Valliere, “after having been so cruel, show me a little mercy.” These words, uttered with all the fervor of a prayer, effaced all trace of irony, if not from Montalais’s heart, at least from her face.
+
+“Why, you are as handsome as Amadis, Monsieur de Bragelonne,” she cried to Raoul, “and armed and booted like him.”
+
+“A thousand compliments, young ladies,” replied Raoul, bowing.
+
+“But why, I ask, are you booted in this manner?” repeated Montalais, whilst La Valliere, although she looked at Raoul with a surprise equal to that of her companion, nevertheless uttered not a word.
+
+“Why?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“Yes!” ventured Louise.
+
+“Because I am about to set off,” said Bragelonne, looking at Louise.
+
+The young girl seemed as though smitten by some superstitious feeling of terror, and tottered. “You are going away, Raoul!” she cried; “and where are you going?”
+
+“Dearest Louise,” he replied, with that quiet, composed manner which was natural to him, “I am going to England.”
+
+“What are you going to do in England?”
+
+“The king has sent me there.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Louise and Aure together, involuntarily exchanging glances, the conversation which had just been interrupted recurring to them both. Raoul intercepted the glance, but could not understand its meaning, and, naturally enough, attributed it to the interest both the young girls took in him.
+
+“His majesty,” he said, “has been good enough to remember that the Comte de la Fere is high in favor with King Charles II. This morning, as he was on his way to attend mass, the king, seeing me as he passed, signed to me to approach, which I accordingly did. ‘Monsieur de Bragelonne,’ he said to me, ‘you will call upon M. Fouquet, who has received from me letters for the king of Great Britain; you will be the bearer of them.’ I bowed. ‘Ah!’ his majesty added, ‘before you leave, you will be good enough to take any commissions which Madame may have for the king her brother.’”
+
+“Gracious heaven!” murmured Louise, much agitated, and yet full of thought at the same time.
+
+“So quickly! You are desired to set off in such haste!” said Montalais, almost paralyzed by this unforeseen event.
+
+“Properly to obey those whom we respect,” said Raoul, “it is necessary to obey quickly. Within ten minutes after I had received the order, I was ready. Madame, already informed, is writing the letter which she is good enough to do me the honor of intrusting to me. In the meantime, learning from Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente that it was likely you would be in this direction, I came here, and am happy to find you both.”
+
+“And both of us very sad, as you see,” said Montalais, going to Louise’s assistance, whose countenance was visibly altered.
+
+“Suffering?” responded Raoul, pressing Louise’s hand with a tender curiosity. “Your hand is like ice.”
+
+“It is nothing.”
+
+“This coldness does not reach your heart, Louise, does it?” inquired the young man, with a tender smile. Louise raised her head hastily, as if the question had been inspired by some suspicion, and had aroused a feeling of remorse.
+
+“Oh! you know,” she said, with an effort, “that my heart will never be cold towards a friend like yourself, Monsieur de Bragelonne.”
+
+“Thank you, Louise. I know both your heart and your mind; it is not by the touch of the hand that one can judge of an affection like yours. You know, Louise, how devotedly I love you, with what perfect and unreserved confidence I reserve my life for you; will you not forgive me, then, for speaking to you with something like the frankness of a child?”
+
+“Speak, Monsieur Raoul,” said Louise, trembling painfully, “I am listening.”
+
+“I cannot part from you, carrying away with me a thought that tortures me; absurd I know it to be, and yet one which rends my very heart.”
+
+“Are you going away, then, for any length of time?” inquired La Valliere, with faltering utterance, while Montalais turned her head aside.
+
+“No; probably I shall not be absent more than a fortnight.” La Valliere pressed her hand upon her heart, which felt as though it were breaking.
+
+“It is strange,” pursued Raoul, looking at the young girl with a melancholy expression; “I have often left you when setting off on adventures fraught with danger. Then I started joyously enough -- my heart free, my mind intoxicated by thoughts of happiness in store for me, hopes of which the future was full; and yet I was about to face the Spanish cannon, or the halberds of the Walloons. To-day, without the existence of any danger or uneasiness, and by the sunniest path in the world, I am going in search of a glorious recompense, which this mark of the king’s favor seems to indicate, for I am, perhaps, going to win you, Louise. What other favor, more precious than yourself, could the king confer upon me? Yet, Louise, in very truth I know not how or why, but this happiness and this future seem to vanish before my very eyes like mist -- like an idle dream; and I feel here, here at the very bottom of my heart, a deep-seated grief, a dejection I cannot overcome -- something heavy, passionless, death-like, -- resembling a corpse. Oh! Louise, too well do I know why; it is because I have never loved you so truly as now. God help me!”
+
+At this last exclamation, which issued as it were from a broken heart, Louise burst into tears, and threw herself into Montalais’s arms. The latter, although she was not easily moved, felt the tears rush to her eyes. Raoul noted only the tears Louise shed; his look, however, did not penetrate -- nay, sought not to penetrate -- beyond those tears. He bent his knee before her, and tenderly kissed her hand; and it was evident that in that kiss he poured out his whole heart.
+
+“Rise, rise,” said Montalais to him, ready to cry, “for Athenais is coming.”
+
+Raoul rose, brushed his knee with the back of his hand, smiled again upon Louise, whose eyes were fixed on the ground, and, having pressed Montalais’s hand gratefully, he turned round to salute Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, the sound of whose silken robe was already heard upon the gravel walk. “Has Madame finished her letter?” he inquired, when the young girl came within reach of his voice.
+
+“Yes, the letter is finished, sealed, and her royal highness is ready to receive you.”
+
+Raoul, at this remark, hardly gave himself time to salute Athenais, cast one look at Louise, bowed to Montalais, and withdrew in the direction of the chateau. As he withdrew he again turned round, but at last, at the end of the grand walk, it was useless to do so again, as he could no longer see them. The three young girls, on their side, had, with widely different feelings, watched him disappear.
+
+“At last,” said Athenais, the first to interrupt the silence, “at last we are alone, free to talk of yesterday’s great affair, and to come to an understanding upon the conduct it is advisable for us to pursue. Besides, if you will listen to me,” she continued, looking round on all sides, “I will explain to you, as briefly as possible, in the first place, our own duty, such as I imagine it to be, and, if you do not understand a hint, what is Madame’s desire on the subject.” And Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente pronounced these words in such a tone as to leave no doubt, in her companion’s minds, upon the official character with which she was invested.
+
+“Madame’s desire!” exclaimed Montalais and La Valliere together.
+
+“Her ultimatum,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, diplomatically.
+
+“But,” murmured La Valliere, “does Madame know, then -- ”
+
+“Madame knows more about the matter than we said, even,” said Athenais, in a formal, precise manner. “Therefore let us come to a proper understanding.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said Montalais, “and I am listening in breathless attention.”
+
+“Gracious heavens!” murmured Louise, trembling, “shall I ever survive this cruel evening?”
+
+“Oh! do not frighten yourself in that manner,” said Athenais; “we have found a remedy.” So, seating herself between her two companions, and taking each of them by the hand, which she held in her own, she began. The first words were hardly spoke, when they heard a horse galloping away over the stones of the public high-road, outside the gates of the chateau.
+
+Chapter LV. Happy as a Prince.
+
+At the very moment he was about entering the chateau, Bragelonne met De Guiche. But before having been met by Raoul, De Guiche had met Manicamp, who had met Malicorne. How was it that Malicorne had met Manicamp? Nothing more simple, for he had awaited his return from mass, where he had accompanied M. de Saint-Aignan. When they met, they congratulated each other upon their good fortune, and Manicamp availed himself of the circumstance to ask his friend if he had not a few crowns still remaining at the bottom of his pocket. The latter, without expressing any surprise at the question, which he perhaps expected, answered that every pocket which is always being drawn upon without anything ever being put in it, resembles those wells which supply water during the winter, but which gardeners render useless by exhausting during the summer; that his, Malicorne’s, pocket certainly was deep, and that there would be a pleasure in drawing on it in times of plenty, but that, unhappily, abuse had produced barrenness. To this remark, Manicamp, deep in thought, had replied, “Quite true!”
+
+“The question, then, is how to fill it?” Malicorne added.
+
+“Of course; but in what way?”
+
+“Nothing easier, my dear Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“So much the better. How?”
+
+“A post in Monsieur’s household, and the pocket is full again.”
+
+“You have the post?”
+
+“That is, I have the promise of being nominated.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“Yes; but the promise of nomination, without the post itself, is like a purse with no money in it.”
+
+“Quite true,” Manicamp replied a second time.
+
+“Let us try for the post, then,” the candidate had persisted.
+
+“My dear fellow,” sighed Manicamp, “an appointment in his royal highness’s household is one of the gravest difficulties of our position.”
+
+“Oh! oh!”
+
+“There is no question that, at the present moment, we cannot ask Monsieur for anything.”
+
+“Why so?” “Because we are not on good terms with him.”
+
+“A great absurdity, too,” said Malicorne, promptly.
+
+“Bah! and if we were to show Madame any attention,” said Manicamp, “frankly speaking, do you think we should please Monsieur?”
+
+“Precisely; if we show Madame any attention, and do it adroitly, Monsieur ought to adore us.”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Either that or we are great fools. Make haste, therefore, M. Manicamp, you who are so able a politician, and make M. de Guiche and his royal highness friendly again.”
+
+“Tell me, what did M. de Saint-Aignan tell you, Malicorne?”
+
+“Tell me? nothing; he asked me several questions, and that was all.”
+
+“Well, was he less discreet, then, with me.”
+
+“What did he tell you?”
+
+“That the king is passionately in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“We knew that already,” replied Malicorne, ironically; “and everybody talks about it loud enough for all to know it; but in the meantime, do what I advise you; speak to M. de Guiche, and endeavor to get him to make advances to Monsieur. Deuce take it! he owes his royal highness that, at least.”
+
+“But we must see De Guiche, then?”
+
+“There does not seem to be any great difficulty in that; try to see him in the same way I tried to see you; wait for him; you know that he is naturally very fond of walking.”
+
+“Yes; but whereabouts does he walk?”
+
+“What a question to ask! Do you not know that he is in love with Madame?”
+
+“So it is said.”
+
+“Very well; you will find him walking about on the side of the chateau where her apartments are.”
+
+“Stay, my dear Malicorne, you were not mistaken, for here he is coming.”
+
+“Why should I be mistaken? Have you ever noticed that I am in the habit of making a mistake? Come, we only need to understand each other. Are you in want of money?”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Manicamp, mournfully.
+
+“Well, I want my appointment. Let Malicorne have the appointment, and Manicamp shall have the money. There is no greater difficulty in the way than that.”
+
+“Very well; in that case make yourself easy. I will do my best.”
+
+“Do.”
+
+De Guiche approached, Malicorne stepped aside, and Manicamp caught hold of De Guiche, who was thoughtful and melancholy. “Tell me, my dear comte, what rhyme you were trying to find,” said Manicamp. “I have an excellent one to match yours, particularly if yours ends in ame.”
+
+De Guiche shook his head, and recognizing a friend, he took him by the arm. “My dear Manicamp,” he said, “I am in search of something very different from a rhyme.”
+
+“What is it you are looking for?”
+
+“You will help me to find what I am in search of,” continued the comte: “you who are such an idle fellow, in other words, a man with a mind full of ingenious devices.”
+
+“I am getting my ingenuity ready, then, my dear comte.”
+
+“This is the state of the case, then: I wish to approach a particular house, where I have some business.”
+
+“You must get near the house, then,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Very good; but in this house dwells a husband who happens to be jealous.”
+
+“Is he more jealous than the dog Cerberus?”
+
+“Not more, but quite as much so.”
+
+“Has he three mouths, as that obdurate guardian of the infernal regions had? Do not shrug your shoulders, my dear comte: I put the question to you with an excellent reason, since poets pretend that, in order to soften Monsieur Cerberus, the visitor must take something enticing with him -- a cake, for instance. Therefore, I, who view the matter in a prosaic light, that is to say in the light of reality, I say: one cake is very little for three mouths. If your jealous husband has three mouths, comte, get three cakes.”
+
+“Manicamp, I can get such advice as that from M. de Beautru.”
+
+“In order to get better advice,” said Manicamp, with a comical seriousness of expression, “you will be obliged to adopt a more precise formula than you have used towards me.”
+
+“If Raoul were here,” said De Guiche, “he would be sure to understand me.”
+
+“So I think, particularly if you said to him: ‘I should very much like to see Madame a little nearer, but I fear Monsieur, because he is jealous.’”
+
+“Manicamp!” cried the comte, angrily, and endeavoring to overwhelm his tormentor by a look, who did not, however, appear to be in the slightest degree disturbed by it.
+
+“What is the matter now, my dear comte?” inquired Manicamp.
+
+“What! is it thus you blaspheme the most sacred of names?”
+
+“What names?”
+
+“Monsieur! Madame! the highest names in the kingdom.”
+
+“You are very strangely mistaken, my dear comte. I never mentioned the highest names in the kingdom. I merely answered you in reference to the subject of a jealous husband, whose name you did not tell me, and who, as a matter of course, has a wife. I therefore replied to you, in order to see Madame, you must get a little more intimate with Monsieur.”
+
+“Double-dealer that you are,” said the comte, smiling; “was that what you said?”
+
+“Nothing else.”
+
+“Very good; what then?”
+
+“Now,” added Manicamp, “let the question be regarding the Duchess -- or the Duke -- ; very well, I shall say: Let us get into the house in some way or other, for that is a tactic which cannot in any case be unfavorable to your love affair.”
+
+“Ah! Manicamp, if you could but find me a pretext, a good pretext.”
+
+“A pretext; I can find you a hundred, nay, a thousand. If Malicorne were here, he would have already hit upon a thousand excellent pretexts.”
+
+“Who is Malicorne?” replied De Guiche, half-shutting his eyes, like a person reflecting, “I seem to know the name.”
+
+“Know him! I should think so: you owe his father thirty thousand crowns.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! so it’s that worthy fellow from Orleans.”
+
+“Whom you promised an appointment in Monsieur’s household; not the jealous husband, but the other.”
+
+“Well, then, since your friend Malicorne is such an inventive genius, let him find me a means of being adored by Monsieur, and a pretext to make my peace with him.”
+
+“Very good: I’ll talk to him about it.”
+
+“But who is that coming?”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“Raoul! yes, it is he,” said De Guiche, as he hastened forward to meet him. “You here, Raoul?” said De Guiche.
+
+“Yes: I was looking for you to say farewell,” replied Raoul, warmly, pressing the comte’s hand. “How do you do, Monsieur Manicamp?”
+
+“How is this, vicomte, you are leaving us?”
+
+“Yes, a mission from the king.”
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To London. On leaving you, I am going to Madame; she has a letter to give me for his majesty, Charles II.”
+
+“You will find her alone, for Monsieur has gone out; gone to bathe, in fact.”
+
+“In that case, you, who are one of Monsieur’s gentlemen in waiting, will undertake to make my excuses to him. I would have waited in order to receive any directions he might have to give me, if the desire for my immediate departure had not been intimated to me by M. Fouquet on behalf of his majesty.”
+
+Manicamp touched De Guiche’s elbow, saying, “There’s a pretext for you.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne’s excuses.”
+
+“A weak pretext,” said De Guiche.
+
+“An excellent one, if Monsieur is not angry with you; but a paltry one if he bears you ill-will.”
+
+“You are right, Manicamp; a pretext, however poor it may be, is all I require. And so, a pleasant journey to you, Raoul!” And the two friends took a warm leave of each other.
+
+Five minutes afterwards Raoul entered Madame’s apartments, as Mademoiselle de Montalais had begged him to do. Madame was still seated at the table where she had written her letter. Before her was still burning the rose-colored taper she had used to seal it. Only in her deep reflection, for Madame seemed to be buried in thought, she had forgotten to extinguish the light. Bragelonne was a very model of elegance in every way; it was impossible to see him once without always remembering him; and not only had Madame seen him once, but it will not be forgotten he was one of the very first who had gone to meet her, and had accompanied her from Le Havre to Paris. Madame preserved therefore an excellent recollection of him.
+
+“Ah! M. de Bragelonne,” she said to him, “you are going to see my brother, who will be delighted to pay to the son a portion of the debt of gratitude he contracted with the father.”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere, Madame, has been abundantly recompensed for the little service he had the happiness to render the king, by the kindness manifested towards him, and it is I who will have to convey to his majesty the assurance of the respect, devotion, and gratitude of both father and son.”
+
+“Do you know my brother?”
+
+“No, your highness; I shall have the honor of seeing his majesty for the first time.”
+
+“You require no recommendation to him. At all events, however, if you have any doubt about your personal merit, take me unhesitatingly for your surety.”
+
+“Your royal highness overwhelms me with kindness.”
+
+“No! M. de Bragelonne, I well remember that we were fellow-travelers once, and that I remarked your extreme prudence in the midst of the extravagant absurdities committed, on both sides, by two of the greatest simpletons in the world, -- M. de Guiche and the Duke of Buckingham. Let us not speak of them, however; but of yourself. Are you going to England to remain there permanently? Forgive my inquiry: it is not curiosity, but a desire to be of service to you in anything I can.”
+
+“No, Madame; I am going to England to fulfil a mission which his majesty has been kind enough to confide to me -- nothing more.”
+
+“And you propose to return to France?”
+
+“As soon as I have accomplished my mission; unless, indeed, his majesty, King Charles II., should have other orders for me.”
+
+“He well beg you, at the very least, I am sure, to remain near him as long as possible.”
+
+“In that case, as I shall not know how to refuse, I will now beforehand entreat your royal highness to have the goodness to remind the king of France that one of his devoted servants is far away from him.”
+
+“Take care that when you are recalled, you do not consider his command an abuse of power.”
+
+“I do not understand you, Madame.”
+
+“The court of France is not easily matched, I am aware, but yet we have some pretty women at the court of England also.”
+
+Raoul smiled.
+
+“Oh!” said Madame, “yours is a smile which portends no good to my countrywomen. It is as though you were telling them, Monsieur de Bragelonne: ‘I visit you, but I leave my heart on the other side of the Channel.’ Did not your smile indicate that?”
+
+“Your highness is gifted with the power of reading the inmost depths of the soul, and you will understand, therefore, why, at present, any prolonged residence at the court of England would be a matter of the deepest regret.”
+
+“And I need not inquire if so gallant a knight is recompensed in return?”
+
+“I have been brought up, Madame, with her whom I love, and I believe our affection is mutual.”
+
+“In that case, do not delay your departure, Monsieur de Bragelonne, and delay not your return, for on your return we shall see two persons happy; for I hope no obstacle exists to your felicity.”
+
+“There is a great obstacle, Madame.”
+
+“Indeed! what is it?”
+
+“The king’s wishes on the subject.”
+
+“The king opposes your marriage?”
+
+“He postpones it, at least. I solicited his majesty’s consent through the Comte de la Fere, and, without absolutely refusing it, he positively said it must be deferred.”
+
+“Is the young lady whom you love unworthy of you, then?”
+
+“She is worthy of a king’s affection, Madame.”
+
+“I mean, she is not, perhaps, of birth equal to your own.”
+
+“Her family is excellent.”
+
+“Is she young, beautiful?”
+
+“She is seventeen, and, in my opinion, exceedingly beautiful.”
+
+“Is she in the country, or at Paris?”
+
+“She is here at Fontainebleau, Madame.”
+
+“At the court?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Do I know her?”
+
+“She has the honor to form one of your highness’s household.”
+
+“Her name?” inquired the princess, anxiously; “if indeed,” she added, hastily, “her name is not a secret.”
+
+“No, Madame, my affection is too pure for me to make a secret of it to any one, and with still greater reason to your royal highness, whose kindness towards me has been so extreme. It is Mademoiselle Louise de la Valliere.”
+
+Madame could not restrain an exclamation, in which a feeling stronger than surprise might have been detected. “Ah!” she said, “La Valliere -- she who yesterday -- ” she paused, and then continued, “she who was taken ill, I believe.”
+
+“Yes, Madame; it was only this morning that I heard of the accident that had befallen her.”
+
+“Did you see her before you came to me?”
+
+“I had the honor of taking leave of her.”
+
+“And you say,” resumed Madame, making a powerful effort over herself, “that the king has -- deferred your marriage with this young girl.”
+
+“Yes, Madame, deferred it.”
+
+“Did he assign any reason for this postponement?”
+
+“None.”
+
+“How long is it since the Comte de la Fere preferred his request to the king?”
+
+“More than a month, Madame.”
+
+“It is very singular,” said the princess, as something like a film clouded her eyes.
+
+“A month?” she repeated.
+
+“About a month.”
+
+“You are right, vicomte,” said the princess, with a smile, in which De Bragelonne might have remarked a kind of restraint; “my brother must not keep you too long in England; set off at once, and in the first letter I write to England, I will claim you in the king’s name.” And Madame rose to place her letter in Bragelonne’s hands. Raoul understood that his audience was at an end; he took the letter, bowed lowly to the princess, and left the room.
+
+“A month!” murmured the princess; “could I have been blind, then, to so great an extent, and could he have loved her for this last month?” And as Madame had nothing to do, she sat down to begin a letter to her brother, the postscript of which was a summons for Bragelonne to return.
+
+The Comte de Guiche, as we have seen, had yielded to the pressing persuasions of Manicamp, and allowed himself to be led to the stables, where they desired their horses to be got ready for them; then, by one of the side paths, a description of which has already been given, they advanced to meet Monsieur, who, having just finished bathing, was returning towards the chateau, wearing a woman’s veil to protect his face from getting burnt by the sun, which was shining very brightly. Monsieur was in one of those fits of good humor to which the admiration of his own good looks sometimes gave occasion. As he was bathing he had been able to compare the whiteness of his body with that of the courtiers, and, thanks to the care which his royal highness took of himself, no one, not even the Chevalier de Lorraine, was able to stand the comparison. Monsieur, moreover, had been tolerably successful in swimming, and his muscles having been exercised by the healthy immersion in the cool water, he was in a light and cheerful state of mind and body. So that, at the sight of Guiche, who advanced to meet him at a hand gallop, mounted upon a magnificent white horse, the prince could not restrain an exclamation of delight.
+
+“I think matters look well,” said Manicamp, who fancied he could read this friendly disposition upon his royal highness’s countenance.
+
+“Good day, De Guiche, good day,” exclaimed the prince.
+
+“Long life to your royal highness!” replied De Guiche, encouraged by the tone of Philip’s voice; “health, joy, happiness, and prosperity to your highness.”
+
+“Welcome, De Guiche, come on my right side, but keep your horse in hand, for I wish to return at a walking pace under the cool shade of these trees.”
+
+“As you please, monseigneur,” said De Guiche, taking his place on the prince’s right as he had been invited to do.
+
+“Now, my dear De Guiche,” said the prince, “give me a little news of that De Guiche whom I used to know formerly, and who used to pay attentions to my wife.”
+
+Guiche blushed to the very whites of his eyes, while Monsieur burst out laughing, as though he had made the wittiest remark in the world. The few privileged courtiers who surrounded Monsieur thought it their duty to follow his example, although they had not heard the remark, and a noisy burst of laughter immediately followed, beginning with the first courtier, passing on through the whole company, and only terminating with the last. De Guiche, although blushing scarlet, put a good countenance on the matter; Manicamp looked at him.
+
+“Ah! monseigneur,” replied De Guiche, “show a little charity towards such a miserable fellow as I am: do not hold me up to the ridicule of the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+“How do you mean?”
+
+“If he hears you ridicule me, he will go beyond your highness, and will show no pity.”
+
+“About your passion and the princess, do you mean?”
+
+“For mercy’s sake, monseigneur.”
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche, confess that you did get a little sweet upon Madame.”
+
+“I will never confess such a thing, monseigneur.”
+
+“Out of respect for me, I suppose; but I release you from your respect, De Guiche. Confess, as if it were simply a question about Mademoiselle de Chalais or Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+Then breaking off, he said, beginning to laugh again, “Comte, that wasn’t at all bad! -- a remark like a sword, which cuts two ways at once. I hit you and my brother at the same time, Chalais and La Valliere, your affianced bride and his future lady love.”
+
+“Really, monseigneur,” said the comte, “you are in a most brilliant humor to-day.”
+
+“The fact is, I feel well, and then I am pleased to see you again. But you were angry with me, were you not?”
+
+“I, monseigneur? Why should I have been so?”
+
+“Because I interfered with your sarabands and your other Spanish amusements. Nay, do not deny it. On that day you left the princess’s apartments with your eyes full of fury; that brought you ill-luck, for you danced in the ballet yesterday in a most wretched manner. Now don’t get sulky, De Guiche, for it does you no good, but makes you look like a tame bear. If the princess did not look at you attentively yesterday, I am quite sure of one thing.”
+
+“What is that, monseigneur? Your highness alarms me.”
+
+“She has quite forsworn you now,” said the prince, with a burst of loud laughter.
+
+“Decidedly,” thought Manicamp, “rank has nothing to do with it, and all men are alike.”
+
+The prince continued: “At all events, you have now returned, and it is to be hoped that the chevalier will become amiable again.”
+
+“How so, monseigneur: and by what miracle can I exercise such an influence over M. de Lorraine?”
+
+“The matter is very simple, he is jealous of you.”
+
+“Bah! it is not possible.”
+
+“It is the case, though.”
+
+“He does me too much honor.”
+
+“The fact is, that when you are here, he is full of kindness and attention, but when you are gone he makes me suffer a perfect martyrdom. I am like a see-saw. Besides, you do not know the idea that has struck me?”
+
+“I do not even suspect it.”
+
+“Well, then; when you were in exile -- for you really were exiled, my poor De Guiche -- ”
+
+“I should think so, indeed; but whose fault was it?” said De Guiche, pretending to speak in an angry tone.
+
+“Not mine, certainly, my dear comte,” replied his royal highness, “upon my honor, I did not ask for the king to exile you -- ”
+
+“No, not you, monseigneur, I am well aware; but -- ”
+
+“But Madame; well, as far as that goes, I do not say it was not the case. Why, what the deuce did you do or say to Madame?”
+
+“Really, monseigneur -- ”
+
+“Women, I know, have their grudges, and my wife is not free from caprices of that nature. But if she were the cause of your being exiled I bear you no ill-will.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur,” said De Guiche. “I am not altogether unhappy.”
+
+Manicamp, who was following closely behind De Guiche and who did not lose a word of what the prince was saying, bent down to his very shoulders over his horse’s neck, in order to conceal the laughter he could not repress.
+
+“Besides, your exile started a project in my head.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“When the chevalier -- finding you were no longer here, and sure of reigning undisturbed -- began to bully me, I, observing that my wife, in the most perfect contrast to him, was most kind and amiable towards me who had neglected her so much, the idea occurred to me of becoming a model husband -- a rarity, a curiosity, at the court; and I had an idea of getting very fond of my wife.”
+
+De Guiche looked at the prince with a stupefied expression of countenance, which was not assumed.
+
+“Oh! monseigneur,” De Guiche stammered out; “surely, that never seriously occurred to you.”
+
+“Indeed it did. I have some property that my brother gave me on my marriage; she has some money of her own, and not a little either, for she gets money from her brother and brother-in-law of England and France at the same time. Well! we should have left the court. I should have retired to my chateau at Villers-Cotterets, situated in the middle of a forest, in which we should have led a most sentimental life in the very same spot where my grandfather, Henry IV., sojourned with La Belle Gabrielle. What do you think of that idea, De Guiche?”
+
+“Why, it is enough to make one shiver, monseigneur,” replied De Guiche, who shuddered in reality.
+
+“Ah! I see you would never be able to endure being exiled a second time.”
+
+“I, monseigneur?”
+
+“I will not carry you off with us, as I had first intended.”
+
+“What, with you, monseigneur?”
+
+“Yes; if the idea should occur to me again of taking a dislike to the court.”
+
+“Oh! do not let that make any difference, monseigneur; I would follow your highness to the end of the world.”
+
+“Clumsy fellow that you are!” said Manicamp, grumblingly, pushing his horse towards De Guiche, so as almost to unseat him, and then, as he passed close to him, as if he had lost command over the horse, he whispered, “For goodness’ sake, think what you are saying.”
+
+“Well, it is agreed, then,” said the prince; “since you are so devoted to me, I shall take you with me.”
+
+“Anywhere, monseigneur,” replied De Guiche in a joyous tone, “whenever you like, and at once, too. Are you ready?”
+
+And De Guiche, laughingly, gave his horse the rein, and galloped forward a few yards.
+
+“One moment,” said the prince. “Let us go to the chateau first.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Why, to take my wife, of course.”
+
+“What for?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“Why, since I tell you that it is a project of conjugal affection, it is necessary I should take my wife with me.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur,” replied the comte, “I am greatly concerned, but no De Guiche for you.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Yes. -- Why do you take Madame with you?”
+
+“Because I begin to fancy I love her,” said the prince.
+
+De Guiche turned slightly pale, but endeavored to preserve his seeming cheerfulness.
+
+“If you love Madame, monseigneur,” he said, “that ought to be quite enough for you, and you have no further need of your friends.”
+
+“Not bad, not bad,” murmured Manicamp.
+
+“There, your fear of Madame has begun again,” replied the prince.
+
+“Why, monseigneur, I have experienced that to my cost; a woman who was the cause of my being exiled!”
+
+“What a revengeful disposition you have, De Guiche, how virulently you bear malice.”
+
+“I should like the case to be your own, monseigneur.”
+
+“Decidedly, then, that was the reason why you danced so badly yesterday; you wished to revenge yourself, I suppose, by trying to make Madame make a mistake in her dancing; ah! that is very paltry, De Guiche, and I will tell Madame of it.”
+
+“You may tell her whatever you please, monseigneur, for her highness cannot hate me more than she does.”
+
+“Nonsense, you are exaggerating; and this because merely of the fortnight’s sojourn in the country she imposed on you.”
+
+“Monseigneur, a fortnight is a fortnight; and when the time is passed in getting sick and tired of everything, a fortnight is an eternity.”
+
+“So that you will not forgive her?”
+
+“Never!”
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche, be a better disposed fellow than that. I wish to make your peace with her; you will find, in conversing with her, that she has no malice or unkindness in her nature, and that she is very talented.”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“You will see that she can receive her friends like a princess, and laugh like a citizen’s wife; you will see that, when she pleases, she can make the pleasant hours pass like minutes. Come, De Guiche, you must really make up your differences with my wife.”
+
+“Upon my word,” said Manicamp to himself, “the prince is a husband whose wife’s name will bring him ill-luck, and King Candaules, of old, was a tiger beside his royal highness.”
+
+“At all events,” added the prince, “I am sure you will make it up with my wife: I guarantee you will do so. Only, I must show you the way now. There is nothing commonplace about her: it is not every one who takes her fancy.”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“No resistance, De Guiche, or I shall get out of temper,” replied the prince.
+
+“Well, since he will have it so,” murmured Manicamp, in Guiche’s ear, “do as he wants you to do.”
+
+“Well, monseigneur,” said the comte, “I obey.”
+
+“And to begin,” resumed the prince, “there will be cards, this evening, in Madame’s apartment; you will dine with me, and I will take you there with me.”
+
+“Oh! as for that, monseigneur,” objected De Guiche, “you will allow me to object.”
+
+“What, again! this is positive rebellion.”
+
+“Madame received me too indifferently, yesterday, before the whole court.”
+
+“Really!” said the prince, laughing.
+
+“Nay, so much so, indeed, that she did not even answer me when I addressed her; it may be a good thing to have no self-respect at all, but to have too little is not enough, as the saying is.”
+
+“Comte! after dinner, you will go to your own apartments and dress yourself, and then you will come to fetch me. I shall wait for you.”
+
+“Since your highness absolutely commands it.”
+
+“Positively.”
+
+“He will not lose his hold,” said Manicamp; “these are the things to which husbands cling most obstinately. Ah! what a pity M. Moliere could not have heard this man; he would have turned him into verse if he had.”
+
+The prince and his court, chatting in this manner, returned to the coolest apartments of the chateau.
+
+“By the by,” said De Guiche, as they were standing by the door, “I had a commission for your royal highness.”
+
+“Execute it, then.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne has, by the king’s order, set off for London, and he charged me with his respects for you; monseigneur.”
+
+“A pleasant journey to the vicomte, whom I like very much. Go and dress yourself, De Guiche, and come back for me. If you don’t come back -- ”
+
+“What will happen, monseigneur?”
+
+“I will have you sent to the Bastile.”
+
+“Well,” said De Guiche, laughing, “his royal highness, monseigneur, is decidedly the counterpart of her royal highness, Madame. Madame gets me sent into exile, because she does not care for me sufficiently; and monseigneur gets me imprisoned, because he cares for me too much. I thank monseigneur, and I thank Madame.”
+
+“Come, come,” said the prince, “you are a delightful companion, and you know I cannot do without you. Return as soon as you can.”
+
+“Very well; but I am in the humor to prove myself difficult to be pleased, in my turn, monseigneur.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“So, I will not return to your royal highness, except upon one condition.”
+
+“Name it.”
+
+“I want to oblige the friend of one of my friends.”
+
+“What’s his name?”
+
+“Malicorne.”
+
+“An ugly name.”
+
+“But very well borne, monseigneur.”
+
+“That may be. Well?”
+
+“Well, I owe M. Malicorne a place in your household, monseigneur.”
+
+“What kind of a place?”
+
+“Any kind of a place; a supervision of some sort or another, for instance.”
+
+“That happens very fortunately, for yesterday I dismissed my chief usher of the apartments.”
+
+“That will do admirably. What are his duties?”
+
+“Nothing, except to look about and make his report.”
+
+“A sort of interior police?”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“Ah, how excellently that will suit Malicorne,” Manicamp ventured to say.
+
+“You know the person we are speaking of, M. Manicamp?” inquired the prince.
+
+“Intimately, monseigneur. He is a friend of mine.”
+
+“And your opinion is?”
+
+“That your highness could never get a better usher of the apartments than he will make.”
+
+“How much does the appointment bring in?” inquired the comte of the prince.
+
+“I don’t know at all, only I have always been told that he could make as much as he pleased when he was thoroughly in earnest.”
+
+“What do you call being thoroughly in earnest, prince?”
+
+“It means, of course, when the functionary in question is a man who has his wits about him.”
+
+“In that case I think your highness will be content, for Malicorne is as sharp as the devil himself.”
+
+“Good! the appointment will be an expensive one for me, in that case,” replied the prince, laughing. “You are making me a positive present, comte.”
+
+“I believe so, monseigneur.”
+
+“Well, go and announce to your M. Melicorne -- ”
+
+“Malicorne, monseigneur.”
+
+“I shall never get hold of that name.”
+
+“You say Manicamp very well, monseigneur.”
+
+“Oh, I ought to say Malicorne very well, too. The alliteration will help me.”
+
+“Say what you like, monseigneur, I can promise you your inspector of apartments will not be annoyed; he has the very happiest disposition that can be met with.”
+
+“Well, then, my dear De Guiche, inform him of his nomination. But, stay -- ”
+
+“What is it, monseigneur?”
+
+“I wish to see him beforehand; if he be as ugly as his name, I retract every word I have said.”
+
+“Your highness knows him, for you have already seen him at the Palais Royal; nay, indeed, it was I who presented him to you.”
+
+“Ah, I remember now -- not a bad-looking fellow.”
+
+“I know you must have noticed him, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, yes, yes. You see, De Guiche, I do not wish that either my wife or myself should have ugly faces before our eyes. My wife will have all her maids of honor pretty; I, all the gentlemen about me good-looking. In this way, De Guiche, you see, that any children we may have will run a good chance of being pretty, if my wife and myself have handsome models before us.”
+
+“Most magnificently argued, monseigneur,” said Manicamp, showing his approval by look and voice at the same time.
+
+As for De Guiche, he very probably did not find the argument so convincing, for he merely signified his opinion by a gesture, which, moreover, exhibited in a marked manner some indecision of mind on the subject. Manicamp went off to inform Malicorne of the good news he had just learned. De Guiche seemed very unwilling to take his departure for the purpose of dressing himself. Monsieur, singing, laughing, and admiring himself, passed away the time until the dinner-hour, in a frame of mind that justified the proverb of “Happy as a prince.”
+
+Chapter LVI. Story of a Dryad and a Naiad.
+
+Every one had partaken of the banquet at the chateau, and afterwards assumed their full court dresses. The usual hour for the repast was five o’clock. If we say, then, that the repast occupied an hour, and the toilette two hours, everybody was ready about eight o’clock in the evening. Towards eight o’clock, then, the guests began to arrive at Madame’s, for we have already intimated that it was Madame who “received” that evening. And at Madame’s soirees no one failed to be present; for the evenings passed in her apartments always had that perfect charm about them which the queen, that pious and excellent princess, had not been able to confer upon her reunions. For, unfortunately, one of the advantages of goodness of disposition is that it is far less amusing than wit of an ill-natured character. And yet, let us hasten to add, that such a style of wit could not be assigned to Madame, for her disposition of mind, naturally of the very highest order, comprised too much true generosity, too many noble impulses and high-souled thoughts, to warrant her being termed ill-natured. But Madame was endowed with a spirit of resistance -- a gift frequently fatal to its possessor, for it breaks where another disposition would have bent; the result was that blows did not become deadened upon her as upon what might be termed the cotton-wadded feelings of Maria Theresa. Her heart rebounded at each attack, and therefore, whenever she was attacked, even in a manner that almost stunned her, she returned blow for blow to any one imprudent enough to tilt against her.
+
+Was this really maliciousness of disposition or simply waywardness of character? We regard those rich and powerful natures as like the tree of knowledge, producing good and evil at the same time; a double branch, always blooming and fruitful, of which those who wish to eat know how to detect the good fruit, and from which the worthless and frivolous die who have eaten of it -- a circumstance which is by no means to be regarded as a great misfortune. Madame, therefore, who had a well-disguised plan in her mind of constituting herself the second, if not even the principal, queen of the court, rendered her receptions delightful to all, from the conversation, the opportunities of meeting, and the perfect liberty she allowed every one of making any remark he pleased, on the condition, however, that the remark was amusing or sensible. And it will hardly be believed, that, by that means, there was less talking among the society Madame assembled together than elsewhere. Madame hated people who talked much, and took a remarkably cruel revenge upon them, for she allowed them to talk. She disliked pretension, too, and never overlooked that defect, even in the king himself. It was more than a weakness of Monsieur, and the princess had undertaken the amazing task of curing him of it. As for the rest, poets, wits, beautiful women, all were received by her with the air of a mistress superior to her slaves. Sufficiently meditative in her liveliest humors to make even poets meditate; sufficiently pretty to dazzle by her attractions, even among the prettiest; sufficiently witty for the most distinguished persons who were present, to be listened to with pleasure -- it will easily be believed that the reunions held in Madame’s apartments must naturally have proved very attractive. All who were young flocked there, and when the king himself happens to be young, everybody at court is so too. And so, the older ladies of the court, the strong-minded women of the regency, or of the last reign, pouted and sulked at their ease; but others only laughed at the fits of sulkiness in which these venerable individuals indulged, who had carried the love of authority so far as even to take command of bodies of soldiers in the wars of the Fronde, in order, as Madame asserted, not to lose their influence over men altogether. As eight o’clock struck her royal highness entered the great drawing-room accompanied by her ladies in attendance, and found several gentlemen belonging to the court already there, having been waiting for some minutes. Among those who had arrived before the hour fixed for the reception she looked round for one who, she thought, ought to have been first in attendance, but he was not there. However, almost at the very moment she completed her investigation, Monsieur was announced. Monsieur looked splendid. All the precious stones and jewels of Cardinal Mazarin, which of course that minister could not do otherwise than leave; all the queen-mother’s jewels as well as a few belonging to his wife -- Monsieur wore them all, and he was as dazzling as the rising sun. Behind him followed De Guiche, with hesitating steps and an air of contrition admirably assumed; De Guiche wore a costume of French-gray velvet, embroidered with silver, and trimmed with blue ribbons: he wore also Mechlin lace as rare and beautiful in its own way as the jewels of Monsieur in theirs. The plume in his hat was red. Madame, too, wore several colors, and preferred red for embroidery, gray for dress, and blue for flowers. M. de Guiche, dressed as we have described, looked so handsome that he excited every one’s observation. An interesting pallor of complexion, a languid expression of the eyes, his white hands seen through the masses of lace that covered them, the melancholy expression of his mouth -- it was only necessary, indeed, to see M. de Guiche to admit that few men at the court of France could hope to equal him. The consequence was that Monsieur, who was pretentious enough to fancy he could eclipse a star even, if a star had adorned itself in a similar manner to himself, was, on the contrary, completely eclipsed in all imaginations, which are silent judges certainly, but very positive and firm in their convictions. Madame looked at De Guiche lightly, but light as her look had been, it brought a delightful color to his face. In fact, Madame found De Guiche so handsome and so admirably dressed, that she almost ceased regretting the royal conquest she felt she was on the point of escaping her. Her heart, therefore, sent the blood to her face. Monsieur approached her. He had not noticed the princess’s blush, or if he had seen it, he was far from attributing it to its true cause.
+
+“Madame,” he said, kissing his wife’s hand, “there is some one present here, who has fallen into disgrace, an unhappy exile whom I venture to recommend to your kindness. Do not forget, I beg, that he is one of my best friends, and that a gentle reception of him will please me greatly.”
+
+“What exile? what disgraced person are you speaking of?” inquired Madame, looking all round, and not permitting her glance to rest more on the count than on the others.
+
+This was the moment to present De Guiche, and the prince drew aside and let De Guiche pass him, who, with a tolerably well-assumed awkwardness of manner, approached Madame and made his reverence to her.
+
+“What!” exclaimed Madame, as if she were greatly surprised, “is M. de Guiche the disgraced individual you speak of, the exile in question?”
+
+“Yes, certainly,” returned the duke.
+
+“Indeed,” said Madame, “he seems almost the only person here!”
+
+“You are unjust, Madame,” said the prince.
+
+“I?”
+
+“Certainly. Come, forgive the poor fellow.”
+
+“Forgive him what? What have I to forgive M. de Guiche?”
+
+“Come, explain yourself, De Guiche. What do you wish to be forgiven?” inquired the prince.
+
+“Alas! her royal highness knows very well what it is,” replied the latter, in a hypocritical tone.
+
+“Come, come, give him your hand, Madame,” said Philip.
+
+“If it will give you any pleasure, Monsieur,” and, with a movement of her eyes and shoulders, which it would be impossible to describe, Madame extended towards the young man her beautiful and perfumed hand, upon which he pressed his lips. It was evident that he did so for some little time, and that Madame did not withdraw her hand too quickly, for the duke added:
+
+“De Guiche is not wickedly disposed, Madame; so do not be afraid, he will not bite you.”
+
+A pretext was given in the gallery by the duke’s remark, which was not, perhaps, very laughable, for every one to laugh excessively. The situation was odd enough, and some kindly disposed persons had observed it. Monsieur was still enjoying the effect of his remark, when the king was announced. The appearance of the room at that moment was as follows: -- in the center, before the fireplace, which was filled with flowers, Madame was standing up, with her maids of honor formed in two wings, on either side of her; around whom the butterflies of the court were fluttering. Several other groups were formed in the recesses of the windows, like soldiers stationed in their different towers who belong to the same garrison. From their respective places they could pick up the remarks which fell from the principal group. From one of these groups, the nearest to the fireplace, Malicorne, who had been at once raised to the dignity, through Manicamp and De Guiche, of the post of master of the apartments, and whose official costume had been ready for the last two months, was brilliant with gold lace, and shone upon Montalais, standing on Madame’s extreme left, with all the fire of his eyes and splendor of his velvet. Madame was conversing with Mademoiselle de Chatillon and Mademoiselle de Crequy, who were next to her, and addressed a few words to Monsieur, who drew aside as soon as the king was announced. Mademoiselle de la Valliere, like Montalais, was on Madame’s left hand, and the last but one on the line, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente being on her right. She was stationed as certain bodies of troops are, whose weakness is suspected, and who are placed between two experienced regiments. Guarded in this manner by the companions who had shared her adventure, La Valliere, whether from regret at Raoul’s departure, or still suffering from the emotion caused by recent events, which had begun to render her name familiar on the lips of the courtiers, La Valliere, we repeat, hid her eyes, red with weeping, behind her fan, and seemed to give the greatest attention to the remarks which Montalais and Athenais, alternately, whispered to her from time to time. As soon as the king’s name was announced a general movement took place in the apartment. Madame, in her character as hostess, rose to receive the royal visitor; but as she rose, notwithstanding her preoccupation of mind, she glanced hastily towards her right; her glance, which the presumptuous De Guiche regarded as intended for himself, rested, as it swept over the whole circle, upon La Valliere, whose warm blush and restless emotion it instantly perceived.
+
+The king advanced to the middle of the group, which had now become a general one, by a movement which took place from the circumference to the center. Every head bowed low before his majesty, the ladies bending like frail, magnificent lilies before King Aquilo. There was nothing very severe, we will even say, nothing very royal that evening about the king, except youth and good looks. He wore an air of animated joyousness and good-humor which set all imaginations at work, and, thereupon, all present promised themselves a delightful evening, for no other reason than from having remarked the desire his majesty had to amuse himself in Madame’s apartments. If there was any one in particular whose high spirits and good-humor equalled the king’s, it was M. de Saint-Aignan, who was dressed in a rose-colored costume, with face and ribbons of the same color, and, in addition, particularly rose-colored in his ideas, for that evening M. de Saint-Aignan was prolific in jests. The circumstance which had given a new expansion to the numerous ideas germinating in his fertile brain was, that he had just perceived that Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was, like himself, dressed in rose-color. We would not wish to say, however, that the wily courtier had not know beforehand that the beautiful Athenais was to wear that particular color; for he very well knew the art of unlocking the lips of a dress-maker or a lady’s maid as to her mistress’s intentions. He cast as many killing glances at Mademoiselle Athenais as he had bows of ribbons on his stockings and doublet; in other words he discharged a prodigious number. The king having paid Madame the customary compliments, and Madame having requested him to be seated, the circle was immediately formed. Louis inquired of Monsieur the particulars of the day’s bathing; and stated, looking at the ladies present while he spoke, that certain poets were engaged turning into verse the enchanting diversion of the baths of Vulaines, and that one of them particularly, M. Loret, seemed to have been intrusted with the confidence of some water-nymph, as he had in his verses recounted many circumstances that were actually true -- at which remark more than one lady present felt herself bound to blush. The king at this moment took the opportunity of looking round him at more leisure; Montalais was the only one who did not blush sufficiently to prevent her looking at the king, and she saw him fix his eyes devouringly on Mademoiselle de la Valliere. This undaunted maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais, be it understood, forced the king to lower his gaze, and so saved Louise de la Valliere from a sympathetic warmth of feeling this gaze might possibly have conveyed. Louis was appropriated by Madame, who overwhelmed him with inquiries, and no one in the world knew how to ask questions better than she did. He tried, however, to render the conversation general, and, with the view of effecting this, he redoubled his attention and devotion to her. Madame coveted complimentary remarks, and, determined to procure them at any cost, she addressed herself to the king, saying:
+
+“Sire, your majesty, who is aware of everything which occurs in your kingdom, ought to know beforehand the verses confided to M. Loret by this nymph; will your majesty kindly communicate them to us?”
+
+“Madame,” replied the king, with perfect grace of manner, “I dare not -- you, personally, might be in no little degree confused at having to listen to certain details -- but Saint-Aignan tells a story well, and has a perfect recollection of the verses. If he does not remember them, he will invent. I can certify he is almost a poet himself.” Saint-Aignan, thus brought prominently forward, was compelled to introduce himself as advantageously as possible. Unfortunately, however, for Madame, he thought of his own personal affairs only; in other words, instead of paying Madame the compliments she so much desired and relished, his mind was fixed upon making as much display as possible of his own good fortune. Again glancing, therefore, for the hundredth time at the beautiful Athenais, who carried into practice her previous evening’s theory of not even deigning to look at her adorer, he said: -- 
+
+“Your majesty will perhaps pardon me for having too indifferently remembered the verses which the nymph dictated to Loret; but if the king has not retained any recollection of them, how could I possibly remember?”
+
+Madame did not receive this shortcoming of the courtier very favorably.
+
+“Ah! madame,” added Saint-Aignan, “at present it is no longer a question what the water-nymphs have to say; and one would almost be tempted to believe that nothing of any interest now occurs in those liquid realms. It is upon earth, madame, important events happen. Ah! Madame, upon the earth, how many tales are there full of -- ”
+
+“Well,” said Madame, “and what is taking place upon the earth?”
+
+“That question must be asked of the Dryads,” replied the comte; “the Dryads inhabit the forest, as your royal highness is aware.”
+
+“I am aware also, that they are naturally very talkative, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Such is the case, Madame; but when they say such delightful things, it would be ungracious to accuse them of being too talkative.”
+
+“Do they talk so delightfully, then?” inquired the princess, indifferently. “Really, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you excite my curiosity; and, if I were the king, I would require you immediately to tell us what the delightful things are these Dryads have been saying, since you alone seem to understand their language.”
+
+“I am at his majesty’s orders, Madame, in that respect,” replied the comte, quickly.
+
+“What a fortunate fellow this Saint-Aignan is to understand the language of the Dryads,” said Monsieur.
+
+“I understand it perfectly, monseigneur, as I do my own language.”
+
+“Tell us all about them, then,” said Madame.
+
+The king felt embarrassed, for his confidant was, in all probability, about to embark in a difficult matter. He felt that it would be so, from the general attention excited by Saint-Aignan’s preamble, and aroused too by Madame’s peculiar manner. The most reserved of those who were present seemed ready to devour every syllable the comte was about to pronounce. They coughed, drew closer together, looked curiously at some of the maids of honor, who, in order to support with greater propriety, or with more steadiness, the fixity of the inquisitorial looks bent upon them, adjusted their fans accordingly, and assumed the bearing of a duelist about to be exposed to his adversary’s fire. At this epoch, the fashion of ingeniously constructed conversations, and hazardously dangerous recitals, so prevailed, that, where, in modern times, a whole company assembled in a drawing-room would begin to suspect some scandal, or disclosure, or tragic event, and would hurry away in dismay, Madame’s guests quietly settled themselves in their places, in order not to lose a word or gesture of the comedy composed by Monsieur de Saint-Aignan for their benefit, and the termination of which, whatever the style and the plot might be, must, as a matter of course, be marked by the most perfect propriety. The comte as known as a man of extreme refinement, and an admirable narrator. He courageously began, then, amidst a profound silence, which would have been formidable to any one but himself: -- “Madame, by the king’s permission, I address myself, in the first place, to your royal highness, since you admit yourself to be the person present possessing the greatest curiosity. I have the honor, therefore, to inform your royal highness that the Dryad more particularly inhabits the hollows of oaks; and, as Dryads are mythological creatures of great beauty, they inhabit the most beautiful trees, in other words, the largest to be found.”
+
+At this exordium, which recalled, under a transparent veil, the celebrated story of the royal oak, which had played so important a part in the last evening, so many hearts began to beat, both from joy and uneasiness, that, if Saint-Aignan had not had a good and sonorous voice, their throbbings might have been heard above the sound of his voice.
+
+“There must surely be Dryads at Fontainebleau, then,” said Madame, in a perfectly calm voice; “for I have never, in all my life, seen finer oaks than in the royal park.” And as she spoke, she directed towards De Guiche a look of which he had no reason to complain, as he had of the one that preceded it; which, as we have already mentioned, had reserved a certain amount of indefiniteness most painful for so loving a heart as his.
+
+“Precisely, Madame, it is of Fontainebleau I was about to speak to your royal highness,” said Saint-Aignan; “for the Dryad whose story is engaging our attention, lives in the park belonging to the chateau of his majesty.”
+
+The affair was fairly embarked on; the action was begun, and it was no longer possible for auditory or narrator to draw back.
+
+“It will be worth listening to,” said Madame; “for the story not only appears to me to have all the interest of a national incident, but still more, seems to be a circumstance of very recent occurrence.”
+
+“I ought to begin at the beginning,” said the comte. “In the first place, then, there lived at Fontainebleau, in a cottage of modest and unassuming appearance, two shepherds. The one was the shepherd Tyrcis, the owner of extensive domains transmitted to him from his parents, by right of inheritance. Tyrcis was young and handsome, and, from his many qualifications, he might be pronounced to be the first and foremost among the shepherds in the whole country; one might even boldly say he was the king of shepherds.” A subdued murmur of approbation encouraged the narrator, who continued: -- “His strength equals his courage; no one displays greater address in hunting wild beasts, nor greater wisdom in matters where judgment is required. Whenever he mounts and exercises his horse in the beautiful plains of his inheritance, or whenever he joins with the shepherds who owe him allegiance, in different games of skill and strength, one might say that it is the god Mars hurling his lance on the plains of Thrace, or, even better, that it was Apollo himself, the god of day, radiant upon earth, bearing his flaming darts in his hand.” Every one understood that this allegorical portrait of the king was not the worst exordium the narrator could have chosen; and consequently it did not fail to produce its effect, either upon those who, from duty or inclination, applauded it to the very echo, or on the king himself, to whom flattery was very agreeable when delicately conveyed, and whom, indeed, it did not always displease, even when it was a little too broad. Saint-Aignan then continued: -- “It is not in games of glory only, ladies, that the shepherd Tyrcis had acquired that reputation by which he was regarded as the king of the shepherds.”
+
+“Of the shepherds of Fontainebleau,” said the king, smilingly, to Madame.
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Madame, “Fontainebleau is selected arbitrarily by the poet; but I should say, of the shepherds of the whole world.” The king forgot his part of a passive auditor, and bowed.
+
+“It is,” paused Saint-Aignan, amidst a flattering murmur of applause, “it is with ladies fair especially that the qualities of this king of the shepherds are most prominently displayed. He is a shepherd with a mind as refined as his heart is pure; he can pay a compliment with a charm of manner whose fascination it is impossible to resist; and in his attachments he is so discreet, that beautiful and happy conquests may regard their lot as more than enviable. Never a syllable of disclosure, never a moment’s forgetfulness. Whoever has seen and heard Tyrcis must love him; whoever loves and is beloved by him, has indeed found happiness.” Saint-Aignan here paused; he was enjoying the pleasure of all these compliments; and the portrait he had drawn, however grotesquely inflated it might be, had found favor in certain ears, in which the perfections of the shepherd did not seem to have been exaggerated. Madame begged the orator to continue. “Tyrcis,” said the comte, “had a faithful companion, or rather a devoted servant, whose name was -- Amyntas.”
+
+“Ah!” said Madame, archly, “now for the portrait of Amyntas; you are such an excellent painter, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Madame -- ”
+
+“Oh! comte, do not, I entreat you, sacrifice poor Amyntas; I should never forgive you.”
+
+“Madame, Amyntas is of too humble a position, particularly beside Tyrcis, for his person to be honored by a parallel. There are certain friends who resemble those followers of ancient times, who caused themselves to be buried alive at their masters’ feet. Amyntas’s place, too, is at the feet of Tyrcis; he cares for no other; and if, sometimes, the illustrious hero -- ”
+
+“Illustrious shepherd, you mean?” said Madame, pretending to correct M. de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Your royal highness is right; I was mistaken,” returned the courtier; “if, I say, the shepherd Tyrcis deigns occasionally to call Amyntas his friend, and to open his heart to him, it is an unparalleled favor, which the latter regards as the most unbounded felicity.”
+
+“All that you say,” interrupted Madame, “establishes the extreme devotion of Amyntas to Tyrcis, but does not furnish us with the portrait of Amyntas. Comte, do not flatter him, if you like; but describe him to us. I will have Amyntas’s portrait.” Saint-Aignan obeyed, after having bowed profoundly to his majesty’s sister-in-law.
+
+“Amyntas,” he said, “is somewhat older than Tyrcis; he is not an ill-favored shepherd; it is even said that the muses condescended to smile upon him at his birth, even as Hebe smiled upon youth. He is not ambitious of display, but he is ambitious of being loved; and he might not, perhaps, be found unworthy of it, if he were only sufficiently well-known.”
+
+This latter paragraph, strengthened by a killing glance, was directed straight to Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who received them both unmoved. But the modesty and tact of the allusion had produced a good effect; Amyntas reaped the benefit of it in the applause bestowed upon him: Tyrcis’s head even gave the signal for it by a consenting bow, full of good feeling.
+
+“One evening,” continued Saint-Aignan, “Tyrcis and Amyntas were walking together in the forest, talking of their love disappointments. Do not forget, ladies, that the story of the Dryad is now beginning, otherwise it would be easy to tell you what Tyrcis and Amyntas, the two most discreet shepherds of the whole earth, were talking about. They reached the thickest part of the forest, for the purpose of being quite alone, and of confiding their troubles more freely to each other, when suddenly the sound of voices struck upon their ears.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” said those who surrounded the narrator. “Nothing can be more interesting.”
+
+At this point, Madame, like a vigilant general inspecting his army, glanced at Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who could not help wincing as they drew themselves up.
+
+“These harmonious voices,” resumed Saint-Aignan, “were those of certain shepherdesses, who had been likewise desirous of enjoying the coolness of the shade, and who, knowing the isolated and almost unapproachable situation of the place, had betaken themselves there to interchange their ideas upon -- ” A loud burst of laughter occasioned by this remark of Saint-Aignan, and an imperceptible smile of the king, as he looked at Tonnay-Charente, followed this sally.
+
+“The Dryad affirms positively,” continued Saint-Aignan, “that the shepherdesses were three in number, and that all three were young and beautiful.”
+
+“What were their names?” said Madame, quickly.
+
+“Their names?” said Saint-Aignan, who hesitated from fear of committing an indiscretion.
+
+“Of course; you call your shepherds Tyrcis and Amyntas; give your shepherdesses names in a similar manner.”
+
+“Oh! Madame, I am not an inventor; I relate simply what took place as the Dryad related it to me.”
+
+“What did your Dryad, then, call these shepherdesses? You have a very treacherous memory, I fear. This Dryad must have fallen out with the goddess Mnemosyne.”
+
+“These shepherdesses, Madame? Pray remember that it is a crime to betray a woman’s name.”
+
+“From which a woman absolves you, comte, on the condition that you will reveal the names of the shepherdesses.”
+
+“Their names were Phyllis, Amaryllis, and Galatea.”
+
+“Exceedingly well! -- they have not lost by the delay,” said Madame, “and now we have three charming names. But now for their portraits.”
+
+Saint-Aignan again made a slight movement.
+
+“Nay, comte, let us proceed in due order,” returned Madame. “Ought we not, sire, to have the portraits of the shepherdesses?”
+
+The king, who expected this determined perseverance, and who began to feel some uneasiness, did not think it safe to provoke so dangerous an interrogator. He thought, too, that Saint-Aignan, in drawing the portraits, would find a means of insinuating some flattering allusions which would be agreeable to the ears of one his majesty was interested in pleasing. It was with this hope and with this fear that Louis authorized Saint-Aignan to sketch the portraits of the shepherdesses, Phyllis, Amaryllis, and Galatea.
+
+“Very well, then; be it so,” said Saint-Aignan, like a man who has made up his mind, and he began.
+
+Chapter LVII. Conclusion of the Story of a Naiad and of a Dryad.
+
+“Phyllis,” said Saint-Aignan, with a glance of defiance at Montalais, such as a fencing-master would give who invites an antagonist worthy of him to place himself on guard, “Phyllis is neither fair nor dark, neither tall nor short, neither too grave nor too gay; though but a shepherdess, she is as witty as a princess, and as coquettish as the most finished flirt that ever lived. Nothing can equal her excellent vision. Her heart yearns for everything her gaze embraces. She is like a bird, which, always warbling, at one moment skims the ground, at the next rises fluttering in pursuit of a butterfly, then rests itself upon the topmost branch of a tree, where it defies the bird-catchers either to come and seize it or to entrap it in their nets.” The portrait bore such a strong resemblance to Montalais, that all eyes were directed towards her; she, however, with her head raised, and with a steady, unmoved look, listened to Saint-Aignan, as if he were speaking of an utter stranger.
+
+“Is that all, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan?” inquired the princess.
+
+“Oh! your royal highness, the portrait is but a mere sketch, and many more additions could be made, but I fear to weary your patience, or offend the modesty of the shepherdess, and I shall therefore pass on to her companion, Amaryllis.”
+
+“Very well,” said Madame, “pass on to Amaryllis, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, we are all attention.”
+
+“Amaryllis is the eldest of the three, and yet,” Saint-Aignan hastened to add, “this advanced age does not reach twenty years.”
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who had slightly knitted her brows at the commencement of the description, unbent them with a smile.
+
+“She is tall, with an astonishing abundance of beautiful hair, which she fastens in the manner of the Grecian statues; her walk is full of majesty, her attitude haughty; she has the air, therefore, rather of a goddess than a mere mortal, and among the goddesses, she most resembles Diana the huntress; with this sole difference, however, that the cruel shepherdess, having stolen the quiver of young love, while poor Cupid was sleeping in a thicket of roses, instead of directing her arrows against the inhabitants of the forest, discharges them pitilessly against all poor shepherds who pass within reach of her bow and of her eyes.”
+
+“Oh! what a wicked shepherdess!” said Madame. “She may some day wound herself with one of those arrows she discharges, as you say, so mercilessly on all sides.”
+
+“It is the hope of shepherds, one and all!” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“And that of the shepherd Amyntas in particular, I suppose?” said Madame.
+
+“The shepherd Amyntas is so timid,” said Saint-Aignan, with the most modest air he could assume, “that if he cherishes such a hope as that, no one has ever known anything about it, for he conceals it in the very depths of his heart.” A flattering murmur of applause greeted this profession of faith on behalf of the shepherd.
+
+“And Galatea?” inquired Madame. “I am impatient to see a hand so skillful as yours continue the portrait where Virgil left it, and finish it before our eyes.”
+
+“Madame,” said Saint-Aignan, “I am indeed a poor dumb post beside the mighty Virgil. Still, encouraged by your desire, I will do my best.”
+
+Saint-Aignan extended his foot and hand, and thus began: -- “White as milk, she casts upon the breeze the perfume of her fair hair tinged with golden hues, as are the ears of corn. One is tempted to inquire if she is not the beautiful Europa, who inspired Jupiter with a tender passion as she played with her companions in the flower-spangled meadows. From her exquisite eyes, blue as azure heaven on the clearest summer day, emanates a tender light, which reverie nurtures, and love dispenses. When she frowns, or bends her looks towards the ground, the sun is veiled in token of mourning. When she smiles, on the contrary, nature resumes her jollity, and the birds, for a brief moment silenced, recommence their songs amid the leafy covert of the trees. Galatea,” said Saint-Aignan, in conclusion, “is worthy of the admiration of the whole world; and if she should ever bestow her heart upon another, happy will that man be to whom she consecrates her first affections.”
+
+Madame, who had attentively listened to the portrait Saint-Aignan had drawn, as, indeed, had all the others, contented herself with accentuating her approbation of the most poetic passage by occasional inclinations of her head; but it was impossible to say if these marks of assent were accorded to the ability of the narrator of the resemblance of the portrait. The consequence, therefore, was, that as Madame did not openly exhibit any approbation, no one felt authorized to applaud, not even Monsieur, who secretly thought that Saint-Aignan dwelt too much upon the portraits of the shepherdesses, and had somewhat slightingly passed over the portraits of the shepherds. The whole assembly seemed suddenly chilled. Saint-Aignan, who had exhausted his rhetorical skill and his palette of artistic tints in sketching the portrait of Galatea, and who, after the favor with which his other descriptions had been received, already imagined he could hear the loudest applause allotted to this last one, was himself more disappointed than the king and the rest of the company. A moment’s silence followed, which was at last broken by Madame.
+
+“Well, sir,” she inquired, “What is your majesty’s opinion of these three portraits?”
+
+The king, who wished to relieve Saint-Aignan’s embarrassment without compromising himself, replied, “Why, Amaryllis, in my opinion, is beautiful.”
+
+“For my part,” said Monsieur, “I prefer Phyllis; she is a capital girl, or rather a good-sort-of-fellow of a nymph.”
+
+A gentle laugh followed, and this time the looks were so direct, that Montalais felt herself blushing almost scarlet.
+
+“Well,” resumed Madame, “what were those shepherdesses saying to each other?”
+
+Saint-Aignan, however, whose vanity had been wounded, did not feel himself in a position to sustain an attack of new and refreshed troops, and merely said, “Madame, the shepherdesses were confiding to one another their little preferences.”
+
+“Nay, nay! Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you are a perfect stream of pastoral poesy,” said Madame, with an amiable smile, which somewhat comforted the narrator.
+
+“They confessed that love is a mighty peril, but that the absence of love is the heart’s sentence of death.”
+
+“What was the conclusion they came to?” inquired Madame.
+
+“They came to the conclusion that love was necessary.”
+
+“Very good! Did they lay down any conditions?”
+
+“That of choice, simply,” said Saint-Aignan. “I ought even to add, -- remember it is the Dryad who is speaking, -- that one of the shepherdesses, Amaryllis, I believe, was completely opposed to the necessity of loving, and yet she did not positively deny that she had allowed the image of a certain shepherd to take refuge in her heart.”
+
+“Was it Amyntas or Tyrcis?”
+
+“Amyntas, Madame,” said Saint-Aignan, modestly. “But Galatea, the gentle and soft-eyed Galatea, immediately replied, that neither Amyntas, nor Alphesiboeus, nor Tityrus, nor indeed any of the handsomest shepherds of the country, were to be compared to Tyrcis; that Tyrcis was as superior to all other men, as the oak to all other trees, as the lily in its majesty to all other flowers. She drew even such a portrait of Tyrcis that Tyrcis himself, who was listening, must have felt truly flattered at it, notwithstanding his rank as a shepherd. Thus Tyrcis and Amyntas had been distinguished by Phyllis and Galatea; and thus had the secrets of two hearts revealed beneath the shades of evening, and amid the recesses of the woods. Such, Madame, is what the Dryad related to me; she who knows all that takes place in the hollows of oaks and grassy dells; she who knows the loves of the birds, and all they wish to convey by their songs; she who understands, in fact, the language of the wind among the branches, the humming of the insect with its gold and emerald wings in the corolla of the wild-flowers; it was she who related the particulars to me, and I have repeated them.”
+
+“And now you have finished, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, have you not?” said Madame, with a smile that made the king tremble.
+
+“Quite finished,” replied Saint-Aignan, “and but too happy if I have been able to amuse your royal highness for a few moments.”
+
+“Moments which have been too brief,” replied the princess; “for you have related most admirably all you know; but, my dear Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you have been unfortunate enough to obtain your information from one Dryad only, I believe?”
+
+“Yes, Madame, only from one, I confess.”
+
+“The fact was, that you passed by a little Naiad, who pretended to know nothing at all, and yet knew a great deal more than your Dryad, my dear comte.”
+
+“A Naiad!” repeated several voices, who began to suspect that the story had a continuation.
+
+“Of course close beside the oak you are speaking of, which, if I am not mistaken, is called the royal oak -- is it not so, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan?”
+
+Saint-Aignan and the king exchanged glances.
+
+“Yes, Madame,” the former replied.
+
+“Well, close beside the oak there is a pretty little spring, which runs murmuringly over the pebbles, between banks of forget-me-nots and daffodils.”
+
+“I believe you are correct,” said the king, with some uneasiness, and listening with some anxiety to his sister-in-law’s narrative.
+
+“Oh! there is one, I can assure you,” said Madame; “and the proof of it is, that the Naiad who resides in that little stream stopped me as I was about to come.”
+
+“Ah?” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Yes, indeed,” continued the princess, “and she did so in order to communicate to me many particulars Monsieur de Saint-Aignan has omitted in his recital.”
+
+“Pray relate them yourself, then,” said Monsieur, “you can relate stories in such a charming manner.” The princess bowed at the conjugal compliment paid her.
+
+“I do not possess the poetical powers of the comte, nor his ability to bring to light the smallest details.”
+
+“You will not be listened to with less interest on that account,” said the king, who already perceived that something hostile was intended in his sister-in-law’s story.
+
+“I speak, too,” continued Madame, “in the name of that poor little Naiad, who is indeed the most charming creature I ever met. Moreover, she laughed so heartily while she was telling me her story, that, in pursuance of that medical axiom that laughter is the finest physic in the world, I ask permission to laugh a little myself when I recollect her words.”
+
+The king and Saint-Aignan, who noticed spreading over many of the faces present a distant and prophetic ripple of the laughter Madame announced, finished by looking at each other, as if asking themselves whether there was not some little conspiracy concealed beneath these words. But Madame was determined to turn the knife in the wound over and over again; she therefore resumed with the air of the most perfect candor, in other words, with the most dangerous of all her airs: “Well, then, I passed that way,” she said, “and as I found beneath my steps many fresh flowers newly blown, no doubt Phyllis, Amaryllis, Galatea, and all your shepherdesses had passed the same way before me.”
+
+The king bit his lips, for the recital was becoming more and more threatening. “My little Naiad,” continued Madame, “was cooing over her quaint song in the bed of the rivulet; as I perceived that she accosted me by touching the hem of my dress, I could not think of receiving her advances ungraciously, and more particularly so, since, after all, a divinity, even though she be of a second grade, is always of greater importance than a mortal, though a princess. I thereupon accosted the Naiad, and bursting into laughter, this is what she said to me:
+
+“‘Fancy, princess...’ You understand, sire, it is the Naiad who is speaking?”
+
+The king bowed assentingly; and Madame continued: -- “‘Fancy, princess, the banks of my little stream have just witnessed a most amusing scene. Two shepherds, full of curiosity, even indiscreetly so, have allowed themselves to be mystified in a most amusing manner by three nymphs, or three shepherdesses,’ -- I beg your pardon, but I do not now remember if it was nymphs or shepherdesses she said; but it does not much matter, so we will continue.”
+
+The king, at this opening, colored visibly, and Saint-Aignan, completely losing countenance, began to open his eyes in the greatest possible anxiety.
+
+“‘The two shepherds,’ pursued my nymph, still laughing, ‘followed in the wake of the three young ladies,’ -- no, I mean, of the three nymphs; forgive me, I ought to say, of the three shepherdesses. It is not always wise to do that, for it may be awkward for those who are followed. I appeal to all the ladies present, and not one of them, I am sure, will contradict me.”
+
+The king, who was much disturbed by what he suspected was about to follow, signified his assent by a gesture.
+
+“‘But,’ continued the Naiad, ‘the shepherdesses had noticed Tyrcis and Amyntas gliding into the wood, and, by the light of the moon, they had recognized them through the grove of the trees.’ Ah, you laugh!” interrupted Madame; “wait, wait, you are not yet at the end.”
+
+The king turned pale; Saint-Aignan wiped his forehead, now dewed with perspiration. Among the groups of ladies present could be heard smothered laughter and stealthy whispers.
+
+“‘The shepherdesses, I was saying, noticing how indiscreet the two shepherds were, proceeded to sit down at the foot of the royal oak; and, when they perceived that their over-curious listeners were sufficiently near, so that not a syllable of what they might say could be lost, they addressed towards them very innocently, in the most artless manner in the world indeed, a passionate declaration, which from the vanity natural to all men, and even to the most sentimental of shepherds, seemed to the two listeners as sweet as honey.’”
+
+The king, at these words, which the assembly was unable to hear without laughing, could not restrain a flash of anger darting from his eyes. As for Saint-Aignan, he let his head fall upon his breast, and concealed, under a silly laugh, the extreme annoyance he felt.
+
+“Oh,” said the king, drawing himself up to his full height, “upon my word, that is a most amusing jest, certainly; but, really and truly, are you sure you quite understood the language of the Naiads?”
+
+“The comte, sire, pretends to have perfectly understood that of the Dryads,” retorted Madame, icily.
+
+“No doubt,” said the king; “but you know the comte has the weakness to aspire to become a member of the Academy, so that, with this object in view, he has learnt all sorts of things of which very happily you are ignorant; and it might possibly happen that the language of the Nymph of the Waters might be among the number of things you have not studied.”
+
+“Of course, sire,” replied Madame, “for facts of that nature one does not altogether rely upon one’s self alone; a woman’s ear is not infallible, so says Saint Augustine; and I, therefore, wished to satisfy myself by other opinions beside my own, and as my Naiad, who, in her character of a goddess, is polyglot, -- is not that the expression, M. de Saint-Aignan?”
+
+“I believe so,” said the latter, quite out of countenance.
+
+“Well,” continued the princess, “as my Naiad, who, in her character of a goddess, had, at first spoken to me in English, I feared, as you suggest, that I might have misunderstood her, and I requested Mesdemoiselles de Montalais, de Tonnay-Charente, and de la Valliere, to come to me, begging my Naiad to repeat to me in the French language, the recital she had already communicated to me in English.”
+
+“And did she do so?” inquired the king.
+
+“Oh, she is the most polite divinity it is possible to imagine! Yes, sire, she did so; so that no doubt whatever remains on the subject. Is it not so, young ladies?” said the princess, turning towards the left of her army; “did not the Naiad say precisely what I have related, and have I, in any one particular, exceeded the truth, Phyllis? I beg your pardon, I mean Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais?”
+
+“Precisely as you have stated, Madame,” articulated Mademoiselle de Montalais, very distinctly.
+
+“Is it true, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente?”
+
+“The perfect truth,” replied Athenais, in a voice quite as firm, but not yet so distinct.
+
+“And you, La Valliere?” asked Madame.
+
+The poor girl felt the king’s ardent look fixed upon her, -- she dared not deny -- she dared not tell a falsehood; she merely bowed her head; and everybody took it for a token of assent. Her head, however, was not raised again, chilled as she was by a coldness more bitter than that of death. This triple testimony overwhelmed the king. As for Saint-Aignan, he did not even attempt to dissemble his despair, and, hardly knowing what he said, he stammered out, “An excellent jest! admirably played!”
+
+“A just punishment for curiosity,” said the king, in a hoarse voice. “Oh! who would think, after the chastisement that Tyrcis and Amyntas had suffered, of endeavoring to surprise what is passing in the heart of shepherdesses? Assuredly I shall not, for one; and, you, gentlemen?”
+
+“Nor I! nor I!” repeated, in a chorus, the group of courtiers.
+
+Madame was filled with triumph at the king’s annoyance; and was full of delight, thinking that her story had been, or was to be, the termination of the whole affair. As for Monsieur, who had laughed at the two stories without comprehending anything about them, he turned towards De Guiche, and said to him, “Well, comte, you say nothing; can you not find something to say? Do you pity M. Tyrcis and M. Amyntas, for instance?”
+
+“I pity them with all my soul,” replied De Guiche; “for, in very truth, love is so sweet a fancy, that to lose it, fancy though it may be, is to lose more than life itself. If, therefore, these two shepherds thought themselves beloved, -- if they were happy in that idea, and if, instead of that happiness, they meet not only that empty void which resembles death, but jeers and jests at love itself, which is worse than a thousand deaths, -- in that case, I say that Tyrcis and Amyntas are the two most unhappy men I know.”
+
+“And you are right, too, Monsieur de Guiche,” said the king; “for, in fact, the injury in question is a very hard return for a little harmless curiosity.”
+
+“That is as much to say, then, that the story of my Naiad has displeased the king?” asked Madame, innocently.
+
+“Nay, Madame, undeceive yourself,” said Louis, taking the princess by the hand; “your Naiad, on the contrary, has pleased me, and the more so, because she was so truthful, and because her tale, I ought to add, is confirmed by the testimony of unimpeachable witnesses.”
+
+These words fell upon La Valliere, accompanied by a look that on one, from Socrates to Montaigne, could have exactly defined. The look and the king’s remark succeeded in overpowering the unhappy girl, who, with her head upon Montalais’s shoulder, seemed to have fainted away. The king rose, without remarking this circumstance, of which no one, moreover, took any notice, and, contrary to his usual custom, for generally he remained late in Madame’s apartments, he took his leave, and retired to his own side of the palace. Saint-Aignan followed him, leaving the rooms in as much despair as he had entered them with delight. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, less sensitive than La Valliere, was not much frightened, and did not faint. However, it may be that the last look of Saint-Aignan had hardly been so majestic as the king’s.
+
+Chapter LVIII. Royal Psychology.
+
+The king returned to his apartments with hurried steps. The reason he walked as fast as he did was probably to avoid tottering in his gait. He seemed to leave behind him as he went along a trace of a mysterious sorrow. That gayety of manner, which every one had remarked in him on his arrival, and which they had been delighted to perceive, had not perhaps been understood in its true sense: but his stormy departure, his disordered countenance, all knew, or at least thought they could tell the reason of. Madame’s levity of manner, her somewhat bitter jests, -- bitter for persons of a sensitive disposition, and particularly for one of the king’s character; the great resemblance which naturally existed between the king and an ordinary mortal, were among the reasons assigned for the precipitate and unexpected departure of his majesty. Madame, keen-sighted enough in other respects, did not, however, at first see anything extraordinary in it. It was quite sufficient for her to have inflicted some slight wound upon the vanity or self-esteem of one who, so soon forgetting the engagements he had contracted, seemed to have undertaken to disdain, without cause, the noblest and highest prize in France. It was not an unimportant matter for Madame, in the present position of affairs, to let the king perceive the difference which existed between the bestowal of his affections on one in a high station, and the running after each passing fancy, like a youth fresh from the provinces. With regard to those higher placed affections, recognizing their dignity and their illimitable influence, acknowledging in them a certain etiquette and display -- a monarch not only did not act in a manner derogatory to his high position, but found even repose, security, mystery, and general respect therein. On the contrary, in the debasement of a common or humble attachment, he would encounter, even among his meanest subjects, carping and sarcastic remarks; he would forfeit his character of infallibility and inviolability. Having descended to the region of petty human miseries, he would be subjected to paltry contentions. In one word, to convert the royal divinity into a mere mortal by striking at his heart, or rather even at his face, like the meanest of his subjects, was to inflict a terrible blow upon the pride of that generous nature. Louis was more easily captivated by vanity than affection. Madame had wisely calculated her vengeance, and it has been seen, also, in what manner she carried it out. Let it not be supposed, however, that Madame possessed such terrible passions as the heroines of the middle ages, or that she regarded things from a pessimistic point of view; on the contrary, Madame, young, amiable, of cultivated intellect, coquettish, loving in her nature, but rather from fancy, or imagination, or ambition, than from her heart -- Madame, we say, on the contrary, inaugurated that epoch of light and fleeting amusements, which distinguished the hundred and twenty years that intervened between the middle of the seventeenth century, and the last quarter of the eighteenth. Madame saw, therefore, or rather fancied she saw, things under their true aspect; she knew that the king, her august brother-in-law, had been the first to ridicule the humble La Valliere, and that, in accordance with his usual custom, it was hardly probable he would ever love the person who had excited his laughter, even had it been only for a moment. Moreover, was not her vanity ever present, that evil influence which plays so important a part in that comedy of dramatic incidents called the life of a woman? Did not her vanity tell her, aloud, in a subdued voice, in a whisper, in every variety of tone, that she could not, in reality, she a princess, young, beautiful, and rich, be compared to the poor La Valliere, as youthful as herself it is true, but far less pretty, certainly, and utterly without money, protectors, or position? And surprise need not be excited with respect to Madame; for it is known that the greatest characters are those who flatter themselves the most in the comparisons they draw between themselves and others, between others and themselves. It may perhaps be asked what was Madame’s motive for an attack so skillfully conceived and executed. Why was there such a display of forces, if it were not seriously her intention to dislodge the king from a heart that had never been occupied before, in which he seemed disposed to take refuge? Was there any necessity, then, for Madame to attach so great an importance to La Valliere, if she did not fear her? Yet Madame did not fear La Valliere in that direction in which an historian, who knows everything, sees into the future, or rather, the past. Madame was neither a prophetess nor a sibyl; nor could she, any more than another, read what was written in that terrible and fatal book of the future, which records in its most secret pages the most serious events. No, Madame desired simply to punish the king for having availed himself of secret means altogether feminine in their nature; she wished to prove to him that if he made use of offensive weapons of that nature, she, a woman of ready wit and high descent, would assuredly discover in the arsenal of her imagination defensive weapons proof even against the thrusts of a monarch. Moreover, she wished him to learn that, in a war of that description, kings are held of no account, or, at all events, that kings who fight on their own behalf, like ordinary individuals, may witness the fall of their crown in the first encounter; and that, in fact, if he had expected to be adored by all the ladies of the court from the very first, from a confident reliance on his mere appearance, it was a pretension which was most preposterous and insulting even, for certain persons who filled a higher position than others, and that a lesson taught in season to this royal personage, who assumed too high and haughty a carriage, would be rendering him a great service. Such, indeed, were Madame’s reflections with respect to the king. The sequel itself was not thought of. And in this manner, it will be seen that she had exercised all her influence over the minds of her maids of honor, and with all its accompanying details, had arranged the comedy which had just been acted. The king was completely bewildered by it; for the first time since he had escaped from the trammels of M. de Mazarin, he found himself treated as a man. Similar severity from any of his subjects would have been at once resisted by him. Strength comes with battle. But to match one’s self with women, to be attacked by them, to have been imposed upon by mere girls from the country, who had come from Blois expressly for that purpose; it was the depth of dishonor for a young sovereign full of the pride his personal advantages and royal power inspired him with. There was nothing he could do -- neither reproaches, nor exile -- nor could he even show the annoyance he felt. To manifest vexation would have been to admit that he had been touched, like Hamlet, by a sword from which the button had been removed -- the sword of ridicule. To show animosity against women -- humiliation! especially when the women in question have laughter on their side, as a means of vengeance. If, instead of leaving all the responsibility of the affair to these women, one of the courtiers had had anything to do with the intrigue, how delightedly would Louis have seized the opportunity of turning the Bastile to personal account. But there, again, the king’s anger paused, checked by reason. To be the master of armies, of prisons, of an almost divine authority, and to exert such majesty and might in the service of a petty grudge, would be unworthy not only of a monarch, but even of a man. It was necessary, therefore, simply to swallow the affront in silence, and to wear his usual gentleness and graciousness of expression. It was essential to treat Madame as a friend. As a friend! -- Well, and why not? Either Madame had been the instigator of the affair, or the affair itself had found her passive. If she had been the instigator of it, it certainly was a bold measure on her part, but, at all events, it was but natural in her. Who was it that had sought her in the earliest moments of her married life to whisper words of love in her ear? Who was it that had dared to calculate the possibility of committing a crime against the marriage vow -- a crime, too, still more deplorable on account of the relationship between them? Who was it that, shielded behind his royal authority, had said to this young creature: be not afraid, love but the king of France, who is above all, and a movement of whose sceptered hand will protect you against all attacks, even from your own remorse? And she had listened to and obeyed the royal voice, had been influenced by his ensnaring tones; and when, morally speaking, she had sacrificed her honor in listening to him, she saw herself repaid for her sacrifice by an infidelity the more humiliating, since it was occasioned by a woman far beneath her in the world.
+
+Had Madame, therefore, been the instigator of the revenge, she would have been right. If, on the contrary, she had remained passive in the whole affair, what grounds had the king to be angry with her on that account? Was it for her to restrain, or rather could she restrain, the chattering of a few country girls? and was it for her, by an excess of zeal that might have been misinterpreted, to check, at the risk of increasing it, the impertinence of their conduct? All these various reasonings were like so many actual stings to the king’s pride; but when he had carefully, in his own mind, gone over all the various causes of complaint, Louis was surprised, upon due reflection -- in other words, after the wound has been dressed -- to find that there were other causes of suffering, secret, unendurable, and unrevealed. There was one circumstance he dared not confess, even to himself; namely, that the acute pain from which he was suffering had its seat in his heart. The fact is, he had permitted his heart to be gratified by La Valliere’s innocent confusion. He had dreamed of a pure affection -- of an affection for Louis the man, and not the sovereign -- of an affection free from all self-interest; and his heart, simpler and more youthful than he had imagined it to be, had to meet that other heart that had revealed itself to him by its aspirations. The commonest thing in the complicated history of love, is the double inoculation of love to which any two hearts are subjected; the one loves nearly always before the other, in the same way that the latter finishes nearly always by loving after the other. In this way, the electric current is established, in proportion to the intensity of the passion which is first kindled. The more Mademoiselle de la Valliere showed her affection, the more the king’s affection had increased. And it was precisely that which had annoyed his majesty. For it was now fairly demonstrated to him, that no sympathetic current had been the means of hurrying his heart away in its course, because there had been no confession of love in the case -- because the confession was, in fact, an insult towards the man and towards the sovereign; and finally, because -- and the word, too, burnt like a hot iron -- because, in fact, it was nothing but a mystification after all. This girl, therefore, who, in strictness, could not lay claim to beauty, or birth, or great intelligence -- who had been selected by Madame herself, on account of her unpretending position, had not only aroused the king’s regard, but had, moreover, treated him with disdain -- he, the king, a man who, like an eastern potentate, had but to bestow a glance, to indicate with his finger, to throw his handkerchief. And, since the previous evening, his mind had been so absorbed with this girl that he could think and dream of nothing else. Since the previous evening his imagination had been occupied by clothing her image with charms to which she could not lay claim. In very truth, he whom such vast interests summoned, and whom so many women smiled upon invitingly, had, since the previous evening, consecrated every moment of his time, every throb of his heart, to this sole dream. It was, indeed, either too much, or not sufficient. The indignation of the king, making him forget everything, and, among others, that Saint-Aignan was present, was poured out in the most violent imprecations. True it is, that Saint-Aignan had taken refuge in a corner of the room; and from his corner, regarded the tempest passing over. His own personal disappointment seemed contemptible, in comparison with the anger of the king. He compared with his own petty vanity the prodigious pride of offended majesty; and, being well read in the hearts of kings in general, and in those of powerful kings in particular, he began to ask himself if this weight of anger, as yet held in suspense, would not soon terminate by falling upon his own head, for the very reason that others were guilty, and he innocent. In point of fact, the king, all at once, did arrest his hurried pace; and, fixing a look full of anger upon Saint-Aignan, suddenly cried out: “And you, Saint-Aignan?”
+
+Saint-Aignan made a sign which was intended to signify, “Well, sire?”
+
+“Yes; you have been as silly as myself, I think.”
+
+“Sire,” stammered out Saint-Aignan.
+
+“You permitted us to be deceived by this shameless trick.”
+
+“Sire,” said Saint-Aignan, whose agitation was such as to make him tremble in every limb, “let me entreat your majesty not to exasperate yourself. Women, you know, are characters full of imperfections, created for the misfortune of mankind: to expect anything good from them is to require them to perform impossibilities.”
+
+The king, who had the greatest consideration for himself, and who had begun to acquire over his emotions that command which he preserved over them all his life, perceived that he was doing an outrage to his own dignity in displaying so much animosity about so trifling an object. “No,” he said, hastily; “you are mistaken, Saint-Aignan; I am not angry; I can only wonder that we should have been turned into ridicule so cleverly and with such audacity by these young girls. I am particularly surprised that, although we might have informed ourselves accurately on the subject, we were silly enough to leave the matter for our own hearts to decide.”
+
+“The heart, sire, is an organ which requires positively to be reduced to its material functions, but which, for the sake of humanity’s peace of mind, should be deprived of all its metaphysical inclinations. For my own part, I confess, when I saw that your majesty’s heart was so taken up by this little -- ”
+
+“My heart taken up! I! My mind might, perhaps, have been so; but as for my heart, it was -- ” Louis again perceived that, in order to fill one gulf, he was about to dig another. “Besides,” he added, “I have no fault to find with the girl. I was quite aware that she was in love with some one else.”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne. I informed your majesty of the circumstance.”
+
+“You did so: but you were not the first who told me. The Comte de la Fere had solicited from me Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s hand for his son. And, on his return from England, the marriage shall be celebrated, since they love each other.”
+
+“I recognize your majesty’s great generosity of disposition in that act.”
+
+“So, Saint-Aignan, we will cease to occupy ourselves with these matters any longer,” said Louis.
+
+“Yes, we will digest the affront, sire,” replied the courtier, with resignation.
+
+“Besides, it will be an easy matter to do so,” said the king, checking a sigh.
+
+“And, by way of a beginning, I will set about the composition of an epigram upon all three of them. I will call it ‘The Naiad and Dryad,’ which will please Madame.”
+
+“Do so, Saint-Aignan, do so,” said the king, indifferently. “You shall read me your verses; they will amuse me. Ah! it does not signify, Saint-Aignan,” added the king, like a man breathing with difficulty, “the blow requires more than human strength to support in a dignified manner.” As the king thus spoke, assuming an air of the most angelic patience, one of the servants in attendance knocked gently at the door. Saint-Aignan drew aside, out of respect.
+
+“Come in,” said the king. The servant partially opened the door. “What is it?” inquired Louis.
+
+The servant held out a letter of a triangular shape. “For your majesty,” he said.
+
+“From whom?”
+
+“I do not know. One of the officers on duty gave it to me.”
+
+The valet, in obedience to a gesture of the king, handed him the letter. The king advanced towards the candles, opened the note, read the signature, and uttered a loud cry. Saint-Aignan was sufficiently respectful not to look on; but, without looking on, he saw and heard all, and ran towards the king, who with a gesture dismissed the servant. “Oh, heavens!” said the king, as he read the note.
+
+“Is your majesty unwell?” inquired Saint-Aignan, stretching forward his arms.
+
+“No, no, Saint-Aignan -- read!” and he handed him the note.
+
+Saint-Aignan’s eyes fell upon the signature. “La Valliere!” he exclaimed. “Oh, sire!”
+
+“Read, read!”
+
+And Saint-Aignan read:
+
+“Forgive my importunity, sire; and forgive, also, the absence of the formalities which may be wanting in this letter. A note seems to be more speedy and more urgent than a dispatch. I venture, therefore, to address this note to your majesty. I have retired to my own room, overcome with grief and fatigue, sire; and I implore your majesty to grant me the favor of an audience, which will enable me to confess the truth to my sovereign.
+
+“LOUISE de la VALLIERE.”
+
+“Well?” asked the king, taking the letter from Saint-Aignan’s hands, who was completely bewildered by what he had just read.
+
+“Well!” repeated Saint-Aignan.
+
+“What do you think of it?”
+
+“I hardly know.”
+
+“Still, what is your opinion?”
+
+“Sire, the young lady must have heard the muttering of the thunder, and has got frightened.”
+
+“Frightened at what?” asked Louis with dignity.
+
+“Why, your majesty has a thousand reasons to be angry with the author or authors of so hazardous a joke; and, if your majesty’s memory were to be awakened in a disagreeable sense, it would be a perpetual menace hanging over the head of this imprudent girl.”
+
+“Saint-Aignan, I do not think as you do.”
+
+“Your majesty doubtless sees more clearly than myself.”
+
+“Well! I see affliction and restraint in these lines; more particularly since I recall some of the details of the scene which took place this evening in Madame’s apartments -- ” The king suddenly stopped, leaving his meaning unexpressed.
+
+“In fact,” resumed Saint-Aignan, “your majesty will grant an audience; nothing is clearer than that.”
+
+“I will do better, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“What is that, sire?”
+
+“Put on your cloak.”
+
+“But, sire -- ”
+
+“You know the suite of rooms where Madame’s maids of honor are lodged?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“You know some means of obtaining an entrance there.”
+
+“As far as that is concerned, I do not.”
+
+“At all events, you must be acquainted with some one there.”
+
+“Really, your majesty is the source of every good idea.”
+
+“You do know some one, then. Who is it?”
+
+“I know a certain gentleman, who is on very good terms with a certain young lady there.”
+
+“One of the maids of honor?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“With Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, I suppose?” said the king, laughing.
+
+“Fortunately, no, sire; with Montalais.”
+
+“What is his name?”
+
+“Malicorne.”
+
+“And you can depend on him?”
+
+“I believe so, sire. He ought to have a key of some sort in his possession; and if he should happen to have one, as I have done him a service, why, he will let us have it.”
+
+“Nothing could be better. Let us set off immediately.”
+
+The king threw his cloak over Saint-Aignan’s shoulders, asked him for his, and both went out into the vestibule.
+
+Chapter LIX. Something That neither Naiad nor Dryad Foresaw.
+
+Saint-Aignan stopped at the foot of the staircase leading to the entresol, where the maids of honor were lodged, and to the first floor, where Madame’s apartments were situated. Then, by means of one of the servants who was passing, he sent to apprise Malicorne, who was still with Monsieur. After having waited ten minutes, Malicorne arrived, full of self-importance. The king drew back towards the darkest part of the vestibule. Saint-Aignan, on the contrary, advanced to meet him, but at the first words, indicating his wish, Malicorne drew back abruptly.
+
+“Oh, oh!” he said, “you want me to introduce you into the rooms of the maids of honor?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You know very well that I cannot do anything of the kind, without being made acquainted with your object.”
+
+“Unfortunately, my dear Monsieur Malicorne, it is quite impossible for me to give you any explanation; you must therefore confide in me as in a friend who got you out of a great difficulty yesterday, and who now begs you to draw him out of one to-day.”
+
+“Yet I told you, monsieur, what my object was; which was, not to sleep out in the open air, and any man might express the same wish, whilst you, however, admit nothing.”
+
+“Believe me, my dear Monsieur Malicorne,” Saint-Aignan persisted, “that if I were permitted to explain myself, I would do so.”
+
+“In that case, my dear monsieur, it is impossible for me to allow you to enter Mademoiselle de Montalais’s apartment.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“You know why, better than any one else, since you caught me on the wall paying my addresses to Mademoiselle de Montalais; it would, therefore, be an excess of kindness on my part, you will admit, since I am paying my attentions to her, to open the door of her room to you.”
+
+“But who told you it was on her account I asked you for the key?”
+
+“For whom, then?”
+
+“She does not lodge there alone, I suppose?”
+
+“No, certainly; for Mademoiselle de la Valliere shares her rooms with her; but, really, you have nothing more to do with Mademoiselle de la Valliere than with Mademoiselle de Montalais, and there are only two men to whom I would give this key; to M. de Bragelonne, if he begged me to give it to him, and to the king, if he commanded me.”
+
+“In that case, give me the key, monsieur: I order you to do so,” said the king, advancing from the obscurity, and partially opening his cloak. “Mademoiselle de Montalais will step down to talk with you, while we go up-stairs to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for, in fact, it is she only whom we desire to see.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Malicorne, bowing to the very ground.
+
+“Yes, the king,” said Louis, smiling: “the king, who is as pleased with your resistance as with your capitulation. Rise, monsieur, and render us the service we request of you.”
+
+“I obey, your majesty,” said Malicorne, leading the way up the staircase.
+
+“Get Mademoiselle de Montalais to come down,” said the king, “and do not breathe a word to her of my visit.”
+
+Malicorne bowed in token of obedience, and proceeded up the staircase. But the king, after a hasty reflection, followed him, and that, too, with such rapidity, that, although Malicorne was already more than half-way up the staircase, the king reached the room at the same moment. He then observed, by the door which remained half-opened behind Malicorne, La Valliere, sitting in an armchair with her head thrown back, and in the opposite corner Montalais, who, in her dressing-gown, was standing before a looking-glass, engaged in arranging her hair, and parleying the while with Malicorne. The king hurriedly opened the door and entered the room. Montalais called out at the noise made by the opening of the door, and, recognizing the king, made her escape. La Valliere rose from her seat, like a dead person galvanized, and then fell back in her armchair. The king advanced slowly towards her.
+
+“You wished for an audience, I believe,” he said coldly. “I am ready to hear you. Speak.”
+
+Saint-Aignan, faithful to his character of being deaf, blind, and dumb, had stationed himself in a corner of the door, upon a stool which by chance he found there. Concealed by the tapestry which covered the doorway, and leaning his back against the wall, he could thus listen without being seen; resigning himself to the post of a good watch-dog, who patiently waits and watches without ever getting in his master’s way.
+
+La Valliere, terror-stricken at the king’s irritated aspect, rose a second time, and assuming a posture full of humility and entreaty, murmured, “Forgive me, sire.”
+
+“What need is there for my forgiveness?” asked Louis.
+
+“Sire, I have been guilty of a great fault; nay, more than a great fault, a great crime.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Sire, I have offended your majesty.”
+
+“Not in the slightest degree in the world,” replied Louis XIV.
+
+“I implore you, sire, not to maintain towards me that terrible seriousness of manner which reveals your majesty’s just anger. I feel I have offended you, sire; but I wish to explain to you how it was that I have not offended you of my own accord.”
+
+“In the first place,” said the king, “in what way can you possibly have offended me? I cannot perceive how. Surely not on account of a young girl’s harmless and very innocent jest? You turned the credulity of a young man into ridicule -- it was very natural to do so: any other woman in your place would have done the same.”
+
+“Oh! your majesty overwhelms me by your remark.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because, if I had been the author of the jest, it would not have been innocent.”
+
+“Well, is that all you had to say to me in soliciting an audience?” said the king, as though about to turn away.
+
+Thereupon La Valliere, in an abrupt and a broken voice, her eyes dried up by the fire of her tears, made a step towards the king, and said, “Did your majesty hear everything?”
+
+“Everything, what?”
+
+“Everything I said beneath the royal oak.”
+
+“I did not lose a syllable.”
+
+“And now, after your majesty really heard all, are you able to think I abused your credibility?”
+
+“Credulity; yes, indeed, you have selected the very word.”
+
+“And your majesty did not suppose that a poor girl like myself might possibly be compelled to submit to the will of others?”
+
+“Forgive me,” returned the king; “but I shall never be able to understand that she, who of her own free will could express herself so unreservedly beneath the royal oak, would allow herself to be influenced to such an extent by the direction of others.”
+
+“But the threat held out against me, sire.”
+
+“Threat! who threatened you -- who dared to threaten you?”
+
+“Those who have the right to do so, sire.”
+
+“I do not recognize any one as possessing the right to threaten the humblest of my subjects.”
+
+“Forgive me, sire, but near your majesty, even, there are persons sufficiently high in position to have, or to believe that they possess, the right of injuring a young girl, without fortune, and possessing only her reputation.”
+
+“In what way injure her?”
+
+“In depriving her of her reputation, by disgracefully expelling her from the court.”
+
+“Oh! Mademoiselle de la Valliere,” said the king bitterly, “I prefer those persons who exculpate themselves without incriminating others.”
+
+“Sire!”
+
+“Yes; and I confess that I greatly regret to perceive, that an easy justification, as your own would have been, is now complicated in my presence by a tissue of reproaches and imputations against others.”
+
+“And which you do not believe?” exclaimed La Valliere. The king remained silent.
+
+“Nay, but tell me!” repeated La Valliere, vehemently.
+
+“I regret to confess it,” repeated the king, bowing coldly.
+
+The young girl uttered a deep groan, striking her hands together in despair. “You do not believe me, then,” she said to the king, who still remained silent, while poor La Valliere’s features became visibly changed at his continued silence. “Therefore, you believe,” she said, “that I pre-arranged this ridiculous, this infamous plot, of trifling, in so shameless a manner, with your majesty.”
+
+“Nay,” said the king, “it was neither ridiculous nor infamous; it was not even a plot; merely a jest, more or less amusing, and nothing more.”
+
+“Oh!” murmured the young girl, “the king does not, and will not believe me, then?”
+
+“No, indeed, I will not believe you,” said the king. “Besides, in point of fact, what can be more natural? The king, you argue, follows me, listens to me, watches me; the king wishes perhaps to amuse himself at my expense, I will amuse myself at his, and as the king is very tender-hearted, I will take his heart by storm.”
+
+La Valliere hid her face in her hands, as she stifled her sobs. The king continued pitilessly; he was revenging himself upon the poor victim before him for all he had himself suffered.
+
+“Let us invent, then, this story of my loving him and preferring him to others. The king is so simple and so conceited that he will believe me; and then we can go and tell others how credulous the king is, and can enjoy a laugh at his expense.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed La Valliere, “you think that, you believe that! -- it is frightful.”
+
+“And,” pursued the king, “that is not all; if this self-conceited prince take our jest seriously, if he should be imprudent enough to exhibit before others anything like delight at it, well, in that case, the king will be humiliated before the whole court; and what a delightful story it will be, too, for him to whom I am really attached, in fact part of my dowry for my husband, to have the adventure to relate of the monarch who was so amusingly deceived by a young girl.”
+
+“Sire!” exclaimed La Valliere, her mind bewildered, almost wandering, indeed, “not another word, I implore you; do you not see that you are killing me?”
+
+“A jest, nothing but a jest,” murmured the king, who, however, began to be somewhat affected.
+
+La Valliere fell upon her knees, and that so violently, that the sound could be heard upon the hard floor. “Sire,” she said, “I prefer shame to disloyalty.”
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired the king, without moving a step to raise the young girl from her knees.
+
+“Sire, when I shall have sacrificed my honor and my reason both to you, you will perhaps believe in my loyalty. The tale which was related to you in Madame’s apartments, and by Madame herself, is utterly false; and that which I said beneath the great oak -- ”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“That is the only truth.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed the king.
+
+“Sire,” exclaimed La Valliere, hurried away by the violence of her emotions, “were I to die of shame on the very spot where my knees are fixed, I would repeat it until my latest breath; I said that I loved you, and it is true; I do love you.”
+
+“You!”
+
+“I have loved you, sire, from the very first day I ever saw you; from the moment when at Blois, where I was pining away my existence, your royal looks, full of light and life, were first bent upon me. I love you still, sire; it is a crime of high treason, I know, that a poor girl like myself should love her sovereign, and should presume to tell him so. Punish me for my audacity, despise me for my shameless immodesty; but do not ever say, do not ever think, that I have jested with or deceived you. I belong to a family whose loyalty has been proved, sire, and I, too, love my king.”
+
+Suddenly her strength, voice, and respiration ceased, and she fell forward, like the flower Virgil alludes to, which the scythe of the reaper severed in the midst of the grass. The king, at these words, at this vehement entreaty, no longer retained any ill-will or doubt in his mind: his whole heart seemed to expand at the glowing breath of an affection which proclaimed itself in such noble and courageous language. When, therefore, he heard the passionate confession, his strength seemed to fail him, and he hid his face in his hands. But when he felt La Valliere’s hands clinging to his own, when their warm pressure fired his blood, he bent forward, and passing his arm round La Valliere’s waist, he raised her from the ground and pressed her against his heart. But she, her drooping head fallen forward on her bosom, seemed to have ceased to live. The king, terrified, called out for Saint-Aignan. Saint-Aignan, who had carried his discretion so far as to remain without stirring in his corner, pretending to wipe away a tear, ran forward at the king’s summons. He then assisted Louis to seat the young girl upon a couch, slapped her hands, sprinkled some Hungary water over her face, calling out all the while, “Come, come, it is all over; the king believes you, and forgives you. There, there now! take care, or you will agitate his majesty too much; his majesty is so sensitive, so tender-hearted. Now, really, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, you must pay attention, for the king is very pale.”
+
+The fact was, the king was visibly losing color. But La Valliere did not move.
+
+“Do pray recover,” continued Saint-Aignan. “I beg, I implore you; it is really time you should; think only of one thing, that if the king should become unwell, I should be obliged to summon his physician. What a state of things that would be! So do pray rouse yourself; make an effort, pray do, and do so at once, my dear.”
+
+It was difficult to display more persuasive eloquence than Saint-Aignan did, but something still more powerful, and of a more energetic nature than this eloquence, aroused La Valliere. The king, who was kneeling before her, covered the palms of her hands with those burning kisses which are to the hands what a kiss upon the lips is to the face. La Valliere’s senses returned to her; she languidly opened her eyes and, with a dying look, murmured, “Oh! sire, has your majesty pardoned me, then?”
+
+The king did not reply, for he was still too much overcome. Saint-Aignan thought it was his duty again to retire, for he observed the passionate devotion which was displayed in the king’s gaze. La Valliere rose.
+
+“And now, sire, that I have justified myself, at least I trust so, in your majesty’s eyes, grant me leave to retire into a convent. I shall bless your majesty all my life, and I shall die thanking and loving Heaven for having granted me one hour of perfect happiness.”
+
+“No, no,” replied the king, “you will live here blessing Heaven, on the contrary, but loving Louis, who will make your existence one of perfect felicity -- Louis who loves you -- Louis who swears it.”
+
+“Oh! sire, sire!”
+
+And upon this doubt of La Valliere, the king’s kisses became so warm that Saint-Aignan thought it was his duty to retire behind the tapestry. These kisses, however, which she had not the strength at first to resist, began to intimidate the young girl.
+
+“Oh! sire,” she exclaimed, “do not make me repeat my loyalty, for this would show me that your majesty despises me still.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere,” said the king, suddenly, drawing back with an air full of respect, “there is nothing in the world that I love and honor more than yourself, and nothing in my court, I call Heaven to witness, shall be so highly regarded as you shall be henceforward. I entreat your forgiveness for my transport; it arose from an excess of affection, but I can prove to you that I love you more than ever by respecting you as much as you can possibly desire or deserve.” Then, bending before her, and taking her by the hand, he said to her, “Will you honor me by accepting the kiss I press upon your hand?” And the king’s lips were pressed respectfully and lightly upon the young girl’s trembling hand. “Henceforth,” added Louis, rising and bending his glance upon La Valliere, “henceforth you are under my safeguard. Do not speak to any one of the injury I have done you, forgive others that which they may have attempted. For the future, you shall be so far above all those, that, far from inspiring you with fear, they shall be even beneath your pity.” And he bowed as reverently as though he were leaving a place of worship. Then calling to Saint-Aignan, who approached with great humility, he said, “I hope, comte, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere will kindly confer a little of her friendship upon you, in return for that which I have vowed to her eternally.”
+
+Saint-Aignan bent his knee before La Valliere, saying, “How happy, indeed, would such an honor make me!”
+
+“I will send your companion back to you,” said the king. “Farewell! or, rather, adieu till we meet again; do not forget me in your prayers, I entreat.”
+
+“Oh!” cried La Valliere, “be assured that you and Heaven are in my heart together.”
+
+These words of Louise elated the king, who, full of happiness, hurried Saint-Aignan down the stairs. Madame had not anticipated this denouement; and neither the Naiad nor the Dryad had breathed a word about it.
+
+Chapter LX. The New General of the Jesuits.
+
+While La Valliere and the king were mingling, in their first confession of love, all the bitterness of the past, the happiness of the present, and hopes of the future, Fouquet had retired to the apartments which had been assigned to him in the chateau, and was conversing with Aramis precisely upon the very subjects which the king at that moment was forgetting.
+
+“Now tell me,” said Fouquet, after having installed his guest in an armchair and seated himself by his side, “tell me, Monsieur d’Herblay, what is our position with regard to the Belle-Isle affair, and whether you have received any news about it.”
+
+“Everything is going on in that direction as we wish,” replied Aramis; “the expenses have been paid, and nothing has transpired of our designs.”
+
+“But what about the soldiers the king wished to send there?”
+
+“I have received news this morning they arrived there fifteen days ago.”
+
+“And how have they been treated?”
+
+“In the best manner possible.”
+
+“What has become of the former garrison?”
+
+“The soldiers were landed at Sarzeau, and then transferred immediately to Quimper.”
+
+“And the new garrison?”
+
+“Belongs to us from this very moment.”
+
+“Are you sure of what you say, my dear Monsieur de Vannes?”
+
+“Quite sure, and, moreover, you will see by and by how matters have turned out.”
+
+“Still you are very well aware, that, of all the garrison towns, Belle-Isle is precisely the very worst.”
+
+“I know it, and have acted accordingly; no space to move about, no gayety, no cheerful society, no gambling permitted: well, it is a great pity,” added Aramis, with one of those smiles so peculiar to him, “to see how much young people at the present day seek amusement, and how much, consequently, they incline to the man who procures and pays for their favorite pastimes.”
+
+“But if they amuse themselves at Bell-Isle?”
+
+“If they amuse themselves through the king’s means, they will attach themselves to the king; but if they get bored to death through the king’s means, and amuse themselves through M. Fouquet, they will attach themselves to M. Fouquet.”
+
+“And you informed my intendant, of course? -- so that immediately on their arrival -- ”
+
+“By no means; they were left alone a whole week, to weary themselves at their ease; but, at the end of the week, they cried out, saying that former officers amused themselves much better. Whereupon they were told that the old officers had been able to make a friend of M. Fouquet, and that M. Fouquet, knowing them to be friends of his, had from that moment done all he possibly could to prevent their getting wearied or bored upon his estates. Upon this they began to reflect. Immediately afterwards, however, the intendant added, that without anticipating M. Fouquet’s orders, he knew his master sufficiently well to be aware that he took an interest in every gentleman in the king’s service, and that, although he did not know the new-comers, he would do as much for them as he had done for the others.”
+
+“Excellent! and I trust that the promises were followed up; I desire, as you know, that no promise should ever be made in my name without being kept.”
+
+“Without a moment’s loss of time, our two privateers, and your own horses, were placed at the disposal of the officers; the keys of the principal mansion were handed over to them, so that they made up hunting-parties, and walking excursions with such ladies as are to be found in Belle-Isle; and such other as they are enabled to enlist from the neighborhood, who have no fear of sea-sickness.”
+
+“And there is a fair sprinkling to be met with at Sarzeau and Vannes, I believe, your eminence?”
+
+“Yes; in fact all along the coast,” said Aramis, quietly.
+
+“And now, how about the soldiers?”
+
+“Everything precisely the same, in a relative degree, you understand; the soldiers have plenty of wine, excellent provisions, and good pay.”
+
+“Very good; so that -- ”
+
+“So that this garrison can be depended upon, and it is a better one than the last.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“The result is, if Fortune favors us, so that the garrisons are changed in this manner, only every two months, that, at the end of every three years, the whole army will, in its turn, have been there; and, therefore, instead of having one regiment in our favor, we shall have fifty thousand men.”
+
+“Yes, yes; I knew perfectly well,” said Fouquet, “that no friend could be more incomparable and invaluable than yourself, my dear Monsieur d’Herblay; but,” he added, laughing, “all this time we are forgetting our friend, Du Vallon; what has become of him? During the three days I spent at Saint-Mande, I confess I have forgotten him completely.”
+
+“I do not forget him, however,” returned Aramis. “Porthos is at Saint-Mande; his joints are kept well greased, the greatest care is being taken care of him with regard to the food he eats, and the wines he drinks; I advise him to take daily airings in the small park, which you have kept for your own use, and he makes us of it accordingly. He begins to walk again, he exercises his muscular powers by bending down young elm-trees, or making the old oaks fly into splinters, as Milo of Crotona used to do; and, as there are no lions in the park, it is not unlikely we shall find him alive. Porthos is a brave fellow.”
+
+“Yes, but in the mean time he will get bored to death.”
+
+“Oh, no; he never does that.”
+
+“He will be asking questions?”
+
+“He sees no one.”
+
+“At all events, he is looking or hoping for something or another.”
+
+“I have inspired in him a hope which we will realize some fine morning, and on that he subsists.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That of being presented to the king.”
+
+“Oh! in what character?”
+
+“As the engineer of Belle-Isle, of course.”
+
+“Is it possible?”
+
+“Quite true.”
+
+“Shall we not be obliged, then, to send him back to Belle-Isle?”
+
+“Most certainly; I am even thinking of sending him as soon as possible. Porthos is very fond of display; he is man whose weakness D’Artagnan, Athos, and myself are alone acquainted with; he never commits himself in any way; he is dignity himself; to the officers there, he would seem like a Paladin of the time of the Crusades. He would make the whole staff drunk, without getting tipsy in the least himself, and every one will regard him with admiration and sympathy; if, therefore, it should happen that we have any orders requiring to be carried out, Porthos is an incarnation of the order itself, and whatever he chose to do others would find themselves obliged to submit to.”
+
+“Send him back, then.”
+
+“That is what I intend to do; but only in a few days; for I must not omit to tell you one thing.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I begin to mistrust D’Artagnan. He is not at Fontainebleau, as you may have noticed, and D’Artagnan is never absent, or apparently idle, without some object in view. And now that my own affairs are settled, I am going to try and ascertain what the affairs are in which D’Artagnan is engaged.”
+
+“Your own affairs are settled, you say?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are very fortunate in that case, then, and I should like to be able to say the same.”
+
+“I hope you do not make yourself uneasy.”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Nothing could be better than the king’s reception of you.”
+
+“True.”
+
+“And Colbert leaves you in peace.”
+
+“Nearly so.”
+
+“In that case,” said Aramis, with that connection of ideas which marked him, “in that case, then, we can bestow a thought upon the young girl I was speaking to you about yesterday.”
+
+“Whom do you mean?”
+
+“What, have you forgotten already? I mean La Valliere.”
+
+“Ah! of course, of course.”
+
+“Do you object, then, to try and make a conquest of her?”
+
+“In one respect only; my heart is engaged in another direction, and I positively do not care about the girl in the least.”
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, “your heart is engaged, you say. The deuce! we must take care of that.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because it is terrible to have the heart occupied, when others, besides yourself, have so much need of the head.”
+
+“You are right. So you see, at your first summons, I left everything. But to return to this girl. What good do you see in my troubling myself about her?”
+
+“This. -- The king, it is said, has taken a fancy to her; at least, so it is supposed.”
+
+“But you, who know everything, know very differently.”
+
+“I know that the king is greatly and suddenly changed; that the day before yesterday he was crazy over Madame; that a few days ago, Monsieur complained of it, even to the queen-mother; and that some conjugal misunderstandings and maternal scoldings were the consequence.”
+
+“How do you know all that?”
+
+“I do know it; at all events, since these misunderstandings and scoldings, the king has not addressed a word, has not paid the slightest attention, to her royal highness.”
+
+“Well, what next?”
+
+“Since then, he has been taken up with Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Now, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is one of Madame’s maids of honor. You happen to know, I suppose, what is called a chaperon in matters of love. Well, then, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is Madame’s chaperon. It is for you to take advantage of this state of things. You have no occasion for me to tell you that. But, at all events, wounded vanity will render the conquest an easier one; the girl will get hold of the king, and Madame’s secret, and you can scarcely predict what a man of intelligence can do with a secret.”
+
+“But how to get at her?”
+
+“Nay, you, of all men, to ask me such a question!” said Aramis.
+
+“Very true. I shall not have any time to take any notice of her.”
+
+“She is poor and unassuming, you will create a position for her, and whether she tames the king as his lady confessor, or his sweetheart, you will have enlisted a new and valuable ally.”
+
+“Very good,” said Fouquet. “What is to be done, then, with regard to this girl?”
+
+“Whenever you have taken a fancy to any lady, Monsieur Fouquet, what course have you generally pursued?”
+
+“I have written to her, protesting my devotion to her. I have added, how happy I should be to render her any service in my power, and have signed ‘Fouquet,’ at the end of the letter.”
+
+“And has any one offered resistance?”
+
+“One person only,” replied Fouquet. “But, four days ago, she yielded, as the others had done.”
+
+“Will you take the trouble to write?” said Aramis, holding a pen towards him, which Fouquet took, saying:
+
+“I will write at your dictation. My head is so taken up in another direction, that I should not be able to write a couple lines.”
+
+“Very well,” said Aramis, “write.”
+
+And he dictated, as follows: “Mademoiselle -- I have seen you -- and you will not be surprised to learn, I think you very beautiful. But, for want of the position you merit at court, your presence there is a waste of time. The devotion of a man of honor, should ambition of any kind inspire you, might possibly serve as a means of display for your talent and beauty. I place my devotion at your feet; but, as an affection, however reserved and unpresuming it may be, might possibly compromise the object of its worship, it would ill become a person of your merit running the risk of being compromised, without her future being assured. If you would deign to accept, and reply to my affection, my affection shall prove its gratitude to you in making you free and independent forever.”
+
+Having finished writing, Fouquet looked at Aramis.
+
+“Sign it,” said the latter.
+
+“Is it absolutely necessary?”
+
+“Your signature at the foot of that letter is worth a million; you forget that.” Fouquet signed.
+
+“Now, by whom do you intend to send this letter?” asked Aramis.
+
+“By an excellent servant of mine.”
+
+“Can you rely on him?”
+
+“He is a man who has been with me all my life.”
+
+“Very well. Besides, in this case, we are not playing for very heavy stakes.”
+
+“How so? For if what you say be true of the accommodating disposition of this girl for the king and Madame, the king will give her all the money she can ask for.”
+
+“The king has money, then?” asked Aramis.
+
+“I suppose so, for he has not asked me for any more.”
+
+“Be easy, he will ask for some, soon.”
+
+“Nay, more than that, I had thought he would have spoken to me about the fete at Vaux, but he never said a word about it.”
+
+“He will be sure to do so, though.”
+
+“You must think the king’s disposition a very cruel one, Monsieur d’Herblay.”
+
+“It is not he who is so.”
+
+“He is young, and therefore his disposition is a kind one.”
+
+“He is young, and either he is weak, or his passions are strong; and Monsieur Colbert holds his weakness and his passions in his villainous grasp.”
+
+“You admit that you fear him?”
+
+“I do not deny it.”
+
+“I that case I am lost.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“My only influence with the king has been through the money I commanded, and now I am a ruined man.”
+
+“Not so.”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘not so?’ Do you know my affairs better than myself?”
+
+“That is not unlikely.”
+
+“If he were to request this fete to be given?”
+
+“You would give it, of course.”
+
+“But where is the money to come from?”
+
+“Have you ever been in want of any?”
+
+“Oh! if you only knew at what a cost I procured the last supply.”
+
+“The next shall cost you nothing.”
+
+“But who will give it me?”
+
+“I will.”
+
+“What, give me six millions?”
+
+“Ten, if necessary.”
+
+“Upon my word, D’Herblay,” said Fouquet, “your confidence alarms me more than the king’s displeasure. Who can you possibly be, after all?”
+
+“You know me well enough, I should think.”
+
+“Of course; but what is it you are aiming at?”
+
+“I wish to see upon the throne of France a king devoted to Monsieur Fouquet, and I wish Monsieur Fouquet to be devoted to me.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Fouquet, pressing his hand, -- “as for being devoted to you, I am yours, entirely; but believe me, my dear D’Herblay, you are deceiving yourself.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“The king will never become devoted to me.”
+
+“I do not remember to have said that King Louis would ever become devoted to you.”
+
+“Why, on the contrary, you have this moment said so.”
+
+“I did not say the king; I said a king.”
+
+“Is it not all the same?”
+
+“No, on the contrary, it is altogether different.”
+
+“I do not understand you.”
+
+“You will do so, shortly, then; suppose, for instance, the king in question were to be a very different person to Louis XIV.”
+
+“Another person.”
+
+“Yes, who is indebted for everything to you.”
+
+“Impossible.”
+
+“His very throne, even.”
+
+“You are mad, D’Herblay. There is no man living besides Louis XIV. who can sit on the throne of France. I know of none, not one.”
+
+“But I know one.”
+
+“Unless it be Monsieur,” said Fouquet, looking at Aramis uneasily; “yet Monsieur -- ”
+
+“It is not Monsieur.”
+
+“But how can it be, that a prince not of the royal line, that a prince without any right -- ”
+
+“My king, or rather your king, will be everything that is necessary, be assured of that.”
+
+“Be careful, Monsieur d’Herblay, you make my blood run cold, and my head swim.”
+
+Aramis smiled. “There is but little occasion for that,” he replied.
+
+“Again, I repeat, you terrify me,” said Fouquet. Aramis smiled.
+
+“You laugh,” said Fouquet.
+
+“The day will come when you will laugh too; only at the present moment I must laugh alone.”
+
+“But explain yourself.”
+
+“When the proper time comes, I will explain all. Fear nothing. Have faith in me, and doubt nothing.”
+
+“The fact is, I cannot but doubt, because I do not see clearly, or even at all.”
+
+“That is because of your blindness; but a day will come when you will be enlightened.”
+
+“Oh!” said Fouquet, “how willingly would I believe.”
+
+“You, without belief! you, who, through my means, have ten times crossed the abyss yawning at your feet, and in which, had you been alone, you would have been irretrievably swallowed; you, without belief; you, who from procureur-general attained the rank of intendant, from the rank of intendant, that of the first minister of the crown, and who from the rank of first minister will pass to that of mayor of the palace. But no,” he said, with the same unaltered smile, “no, no, you cannot see, and consequently cannot believe -- what I tell you.” And Aramis rose to withdraw.
+
+“One word more,” said Fouquet; “you have never yet spoken to me in this manner, you have never yet shown yourself so confident, I should rather say so daring.”
+
+“Because it is necessary, in order to speak confidently, to have the lips unfettered.”
+
+“And that is now your case?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Since a very short time, then?”
+
+“Since yesterday, only.”
+
+“Oh! Monsieur d’Herblay, take care, your confidence is becoming audacity.”
+
+“One can well be audacious when one is powerful.”
+
+“And you are powerful?”
+
+“I have already offered you ten millions; I repeat the offer.”
+
+Fouquet rose, profoundly agitated.
+
+“Come,” he said, “come; you spoke of overthrowing kings and replacing them by others. If, indeed, I am not really out of my senses, is or is not that what you said just now?”
+
+“You are by no means out of your senses, for it is perfectly true I did say all that just now.”
+
+“And why did you say so?”
+
+“Because it is easy to speak in this manner of thrones being cast down, and kings being raised up, when one is, one’s self, far above all kings and thrones, of this world at least.”
+
+“Your power is infinite, then?” cried Fouquet.
+
+“I have told you so already, and I repeat it,” replied Aramis, with glistening eyes and trembling lips.
+
+Fouquet threw himself back in his chair, and buried his face in his hands. Aramis looked at him for a moment, as the angel of human destinies might have looked upon a simple mortal.
+
+“Adieu,” he said to him, “sleep undisturbed, and send your letter to La Valliere. To-morrow we shall see each other again.”
+
+“Yes, to-morrow,” said Fouquet, shaking his hands like a man returning to his senses. “But where shall we see each other?”
+
+“At the king’s promenade, if you like.”
+
+“Agreed.” And they separated.
+
+Chapter LXI. The Storm.
+
+The dawn of the following day was dark and gloomy, and as every one knew that the promenade was down in the royal programme, every one’s gaze, as his eyes were opened, was directed towards the sky. Just above the tops of the trees a thick, suffocating vapor seemed to remain suspended, with barely sufficient power to rise thirty feet above the ground under the influence of the sun’s rays, which was scarcely visible as a faint spot of lesser darkness through the veil of heavy mist. No dew had fallen in the morning; the turf was dried up for want of moisture, the flowers withered. The birds sang less inspiringly than usual upon the boughs, which remained motionless as the limbs of corpses. The strange confused and animated murmurs, which seemed born and to exist in virtue of the sun, that respiration of nature which is unceasingly heard amidst all other sounds, could not be heard now, and never had the silence been so profound.
+
+The king had noticed the cheerless aspect of the heavens as he approached the window immediately upon rising. But as all the necessary directions had been given respecting the promenade, and every preparation had been made accordingly, and as, which was far more imperious than anything else, Louis relied upon this promenade to satisfy the cravings of his imagination, and we will even already say, the clamorous desires of his heart -- the king unhesitatingly decided that the appearance of the heavens had nothing whatever to do with the matter; that the promenade was arranged, and that, whatever the state of the weather, the promenade should take place. Besides, there are certain terrestrial sovereigns who seem to have accorded them privileged existences, and there are certain times when it might almost be supposed that the expressed wish of an earthly monarch has its influence over the Divine will. It was Virgil who observed of Augustus: Nocte pluit tota redeunt spectacula mane. [10]
+
+Louis attended mass as usual, but it was evident that his attention was somewhat distracted from the presence of the Creator by the remembrance of the creature. His mind was occupied during the service in reckoning more than once the number of minutes, then of seconds, which separated him from the blissful moment when the promenade would begin, that is to say, the moment when Madame would set out with her maids of honor. Besides, as a matter of course, everybody at the chateau was ignorant of the interview which had taken place between La Valliere and the king. Montalais, perhaps, with her usual chattering propensity, might have been disposed to talk about it; but Montalais on this occasion was held in check by Malicorne, who had securely fastened on her pretty lips the golden padlock of mutual interest. As for Louis XIV., his happiness was so extreme that he had forgiven Madame, or nearly so, her little piece of malice of the previous evening. In fact, he had occasion to congratulate himself rather than to complain of it. Had it not been for her ill-natured action, he would not have received the letter from La Valliere; had it not been for the letter, he would have had no interview; and had it not been for the interview he would have remained undecided. His heart was filled with too much happiness for any ill-feeling to remain in it, at that moment at least. Instead, therefore, of knitting his brows into a frown when he perceived his sister-in-law, Louis resolved to receive her in a more friendly and gracious manner than usual. But on one condition only, that she would be ready to set out early. Such was the nature of Louis’s thoughts during mass; which made him, during the ceremony, forget matters which, in his character of Most Christian King and of the eldest son of the Church, ought to have occupied his attention. He returned to the chateau, and as the promenade was fixed for midday, and it was at present just ten o’clock, he set to work desperately with Colbert and Lyonne. But even while he worked Louis went from the table to the window, inasmuch as the window looked out upon Madame’s pavilion: he could see M. Fouquet in the courtyard, to whom the courtiers, since the favor shown towards him on the previous evening, paid greater attention than ever. The king, instinctively, on noticing Fouquet, turned towards Colbert, who was smiling, and seemed full of benevolence and delight, a state of feeling which had arisen from the very moment one of his secretaries had entered and handed him a pocket-book, which he had put unopened into his pocket. But, as there was always something sinister at the bottom of any delight expressed by Colbert, Louis preferred, of the smiles of the two men, that of Fouquet. He beckoned to the superintendent to come up, and turning towards Lyonne and Colbert, he said: -- “Finish this matter, place it on my desk, and I will read it at my leisure.” And he left the room. At the sign the king had made to him, Fouquet had hastened up the staircase, while Aramis, who was with the superintendent, quietly retired among the group of courtiers and disappeared without having been even observed by the king. The king and Fouquet met at the top of the staircase.
+
+“Sire,” said Fouquet, remarking the gracious manner in which Louis was about to receive him, “your majesty has overwhelmed me with kindness during the last few days. It is not a youthful monarch, but a being of higher order, who reigns over France, one whom pleasure, happiness, and love acknowledge as their master.” The king colored. The compliment, although flattering, was not the less somewhat pointed. Louis conducted Fouquet to a small room that divided his study from his sleeping-apartment.
+
+“Do you know why I summoned you?” said the king as he seated himself upon the edge of the window, so as not to lose anything that might be passing in the gardens which fronted the opposite entrance to Madame’s pavilion.
+
+“No, sire,” replied Fouquet, “but I am sure for something agreeable, if I am to judge from your majesty’s gracious smile.”
+
+“You are mistaken, then.”
+
+“I, sire?”
+
+“For I summoned you, on the contrary, to pick a quarrel with you.”
+
+“With me, sire?”
+
+“Yes: and that a serious one.”
+
+“Your majesty alarms me -- and yet I was most confident in your justice and goodness.”
+
+“Do you know I am told, Monsieur Fouquet, that you are preparing a grand fete at Vaux.”
+
+Fouquet smiled, as a sick man would do at the first shiver of a fever which has left him but returns again.
+
+“And that you have not invited me!” continued the king.
+
+“Sire,” replied Fouquet, “I have not even thought of the fete you speak of, and it was only yesterday evening that one of my friends,” Fouquet laid a stress upon the word, “was kind enough to make me think of it.”
+
+“Yet I saw you yesterday evening, Monsieur Fouquet, and you said nothing to me about it.”
+
+“How dared I hope that your majesty would so greatly descend from your own exalted station as to honor my dwelling with your royal presence?”
+
+“Excuse me, Monsieur Fouquet, you did not speak to me about your fete.”
+
+“I did not allude to the fete to your majesty, I repeat, in the first place, because nothing had been decided with regard to it, and, secondly, because I feared a refusal.”
+
+“And something made you fear a refusal, Monsieur Fouquet? You see I am determined to push you hard.”
+
+“The profound wish I had that your majesty should accept my invitation -- ”
+
+“Well, Monsieur Fouquet, nothing is easier, I perceive, than our coming to an understanding. Your wish is to invite me to your fete, my own is to be present at it; invite me and I will go.”
+
+“Is it possible that your majesty will deign to accept?” murmured the superintendent.
+
+“Why, really, monsieur,” said the king, laughing, “I think I do more than accept; I rather fancy I am inviting myself.”
+
+“Your majesty overwhelms me with honor and delight,” exclaimed Fouquet, “but I shall be obliged to repeat what M. Vieuville said to your ancestor, Henry IV., Domine non sum dignus.” [11]
+
+“To which I reply, Monsieur Fouquet, that if you give a fete, I will go, whether I am invited or not.”
+
+“I thank your majesty deeply,” said Fouquet, as he raised his head beneath this favor, which he was convinced would be his ruin.
+
+“But how could your majesty have been informed of it?”
+
+“By a public rumor, Monsieur Fouquet, which says such wonderful things of yourself and the marvels of your house. Would you become proud, Monsieur Fouquet, if the king were to be jealous of you?”
+
+“I should be the happiest man in the world, sire, since the very day on which your majesty were to be jealous of Vaux, I should possess something worthy of being offered to you.”
+
+“Very well, Monsieur Fouquet, prepare your fete, and open the door of your house as wide as possible.”
+
+“It is for your majesty to fix the day.”
+
+“This day month, then.”
+
+“Has your majesty any further commands?”
+
+“Nothing, Monsieur Fouquet, except from the present moment until then to have you near me as much as possible.”
+
+“I have the honor to form one of your majesty’s party for the promenade.”
+
+“Very good; indeed, I am now setting out; for there are the ladies, I see, who are going to start.”
+
+With this remark, the king, with all the eagerness, not only of a young man, but of a young man in love, withdrew from the window, in order to take his gloves and cane, which his valet held ready for him. The neighing of the horses and the crunching of the wheels on the gravel of the courtyard could be distinctly heard. The king descended the stairs, and at the moment he appeared upon the flight of steps, every one stopped. The king walked straight up to the young queen. The queen-mother, who was still suffering more than ever from the illness with which she was afflicted, did not wish to go out. Maria Theresa accompanied Madame in her carriage, and asked the king in what direction he wished the promenade to drive. The king, who had just seen La Valliere, still pale from the event of the previous evening, get into a carriage with three of her companions, told the queen that he had no preference, and wherever she would like to go, there would he be with her. The queen then desired that the outriders should proceed in the direction of Apremont. The outriders set off accordingly before the others. The king rode on horseback, and for a few minutes accompanied the carriage of the queen and Madame. The weather had cleared up a little, but a kind of veil of dust, like a thick gauze, was still spread over the surface of the heavens, and the sun made every atom glisten within the circuit of its rays. The heat was stifling; but, as the king did not seem to pay any attention to the appearance of the heavens, no one made himself uneasy about it, and the promenade, in obedience to the orders given by the queen, took its course in the direction of Apremont. The courtiers who followed were in the very highest spirits; it was evident that every one tried to forget, and to make others forget, the bitter discussions of the previous evening. Madame, particularly, was delightful. In fact, seeing the king at the door of her carriage, as she did not suppose he would be there for the queen’s sake, she hoped that her prince had returned to her. Hardly, however, had they proceeded a quarter of a mile on the road, when the king, with a gracious smile, saluted them and drew up his horse, leaving the queen’s carriage to pass on, then that of the principal ladies of honor, and then all the others in succession, who, seeing the king stop, wished in their turn to stop too; but the king made a sign to them to continue their progress. When La Valliere’s carriage passed, the king approached it, saluted the ladies who were inside, and was preparing to accompany the carriage containing the maids of honor, in the same way he had followed that in which Madame was, when suddenly the whole file of carriages stopped. It was probable that Madame, uneasy at the king having left her, had just given directions for the performance of this maneuver, the direction in which the promenade was to take place having been left to her. The king, having sent to inquire what her object was in stopping the cavalcade, was informed in reply, that she wished to walk. She most likely hoped that the king, who was following the carriages of the maids of honor on horseback, would not venture to follow the maids of honor themselves on foot. They had arrived in the middle of the forest.
+
+The promenade, in fact, was not ill-timed, especially for those who were dreamers or lovers. From the little open space where the halt had taken place, three beautiful long walks, shady and undulating, stretched out before them. These walks were covered with moss or with leaves that formed a carpet from the loom of nature; and each walk had its horizon in the distance, consisting of about a hand-breadth of sky, apparent through the interlacing of the branches of the trees. At the end of almost every walk, evidently in great tribulation and uneasiness, the startled deer were seen hurrying to and fro, first stopping for a moment in the middle of the path, and then raising their heads they fled with the speed of an arrow or bounded into the depths of the forest, where they disappeared from view; now and then a rabbit, of philosophical mien, might be noticed quietly sitting upright, rubbing his muzzle with his fore paws, and looking about inquiringly, as though wondering whether all these people, who were approaching in his direction, and who had just disturbed him in his meditations and his meal, were not followed by their dogs, or had not their guns under their arms. All alighted from their carriages as soon as they observed that the queen was doing so. Maria Theresa took the arm of one of her ladies of honor, and, with a side glance towards the king, who did not perceive that he was in the slightest degree the object of the queen’s attention, entered the forest by the first path before her. Two of the outriders preceded her majesty with long poles, which they used for the purpose of putting the branches of the trees aside, or removing the bushes that might impede her progress. As soon as Madame alighted, she found the Comte de Guiche at her side, who bowed and placed himself at her disposal. Monsieur, delighted with his bath of the two previous days, had announced his preference for the river, and, having given De Guiche leave of absence, remained at the chateau with the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp. He was not in the slightest degree jealous. He had been looked for to no purpose among those present; but as Monsieur was a man who thought a great deal of himself, and usually added very little to the general pleasure, his absence was rather a subject of satisfaction than regret. Every one had followed the example which the queen and Madame had set, doing just as they pleased, according as chance or fancy influenced them. The king, we have already observed, remained near La Valliere, and, throwing himself off his horse at the moment the door of her carriage was opened, he offered her his hand to alight. Montalais and Tonnay-Charente immediately drew back and kept at a distance; the former from calculated, the latter from natural motives. There was this difference, however, between the two, that the one had withdrawn from a wish to please the king, the other for a very opposite reason. During the last half-hour the weather also had undergone a change; the veil which had been spread over the sky, as if driven by a blast of heated air, had become massed together in the western part of the heavens; and afterwards, as if driven by a current of air from the opposite direction, was now advancing slowly and heavily towards them. The approach of the storm could be felt, but as the king did not perceive it, no one thought it proper to do so. The promenade was therefore continued; some of the company, with minds ill at ease on the subject, raised their eyes from time to time towards the sky; others, even more timid still, walked about without wandering too far from the carriages, where they relied upon taking shelter in case the storm burst. The greater number of these, however, observing that the king fearlessly entered the wood with La Valliere, followed his majesty. The king, noticing this, took La Valliere’s hand, and led her to a lateral forest-alley; where no one this time ventured to follow him.
+
+Chapter LXII. The Shower of Rain.
+
+At this moment, and in the same direction, too, that the king and La Valliere had taken, except that they were in the wood itself instead of following the path, two men were walking together, utterly indifferent to the appearance of the heavens. Their heads were bent down in the manner of people occupied with matters of great moment. They had not observed either De Guiche or Madame, the king or La Valliere. Suddenly something fell through the air like a colossal sheet of flame, followed by a loud but distant rumbling noise.
+
+“Ah!” said one of them, raising his head, “here comes the storm. Let us reach our carriages, my dear D’Herblay.”
+
+Aramis looked inquiringly at the heavens. “There is no occasion to hurry yet,” he said; and then resuming the conversation where it had doubtless been interrupted, he said, “You were observing that the letter we wrote last evening must by this time have reached its destination?”
+
+“I was saying that she certainly has it.”
+
+“Whom did you send it by?”
+
+“By my own servant, as I have already told you.”
+
+“Did he bring back an answer?”
+
+“I have not seen him since; the young girl was probably in attendance on Madame, or was in her own room dressing, and he may have had to wait. Our time for leaving arrived, and we set off, of course; I cannot, therefore, know what is going on yonder.”
+
+“Did you see the king before leaving?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“How did he seem?”
+
+“Nothing could have passed off better, or worse; according as he be sincere or hypocritical.”
+
+“And the fete?”
+
+“Will take place in a month.”
+
+“He invited himself, you say?”
+
+“With a pertinacity in which I detected Colbert’s influence. But has not last night removed your illusions?”
+
+“What illusions?”
+
+“With respect to the assistance you may be able to give me under these circumstances.”
+
+“No; I have passed the night writing, and all my orders are given.”
+
+“Do not conceal it from yourself, D’Herblay, but the fete will cost some millions.”
+
+“I will supply six; do you on your side get two or three.”
+
+“You are a wonderful man, my dear D’Herblay.”
+
+Aramis smiled.
+
+“But,” inquired Fouquet, with some remaining uneasiness, “how is it that while you are now squandering millions in this manner, a few days ago you did not pay the fifty thousand francs to Baisemeaux out of your own pocket?”
+
+“Because a few days ago I was as poor as Job.”
+
+“And to-day?”
+
+“To-day I am wealthier than the king himself.”
+
+“Very well,” said Fouquet; “I understand men pretty well; I know you are incapable of forfeiting your word; I do not wish to wrest your secret from you, and so let us talk no more about it.”
+
+At this moment a dull, heavy rumbling was heard, which suddenly developed into a violent clap of thunder.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Fouquet, “I was quite right in what I said.”
+
+“Come,” said Aramis, “let us rejoin the carriages.”
+
+“We shall not have time,” said Fouquet, “for here comes the rain.”
+
+In fact, as he spoke, and as if the heavens were opened, a shower of large drops of rain was suddenly heard pattering on the leaves about them.
+
+“We shall have time,” said Aramis, “to reach the carriages before the foliage becomes saturated.”
+
+“It will be better,” said Fouquet, “to take shelter somewhere -- in a grotto, for instance.”
+
+“Yes, but where are we to find a grotto?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“I know one,” said Fouquet, smiling, “not ten paces from here.” Then looking round him, he added: “Yes, we are quite right.”
+
+“You are very fortunate to have so good a memory,” said Aramis, smiling in his turn, “but are you not afraid that your coachman, finding we do not return, will suppose we have taken another road back, and that he will not follow the carriages belonging to the court?”
+
+“Oh, there is no fear of that,” said Fouquet; “whenever I place my coachman and my carriage in any particular spot, nothing but an express order from the king could stir them; and more than that, too, it seems that we are not the only ones who have come so far, for I hear footsteps and the sound of voices.”
+
+As he spoke, Fouquet turned round, and opened with his cane a mass of foliage which hid the path from his view. Aramis’s glance as well as his own plunged at the same moment through the aperture he had made.
+
+“A woman,” said Aramis.
+
+“And a man,” said Fouquet.
+
+“It is La Valliere and the king,” they both exclaimed together.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, “is his majesty aware of your cavern as well? I should not be astonished if he were, for he seems to be on very good terms with the dryads of Fontainebleau.”
+
+“Never mind,” said Fouquet; “let us get there. If he is not aware of it, we shall see what he will do if he should know it, as it has two entrances, so that whilst he enters by one, we can leave by the other.”
+
+“Is it far?” asked Aramis, “for the rain is beginning to penetrate.”
+
+“We are there now,” said Fouquet, as he pushed aside a few branches, and an excavation in the solid rock could be observed, hitherto concealed by heaths, ivy, and a thick covert of small shrubs.
+
+Fouquet led the way, followed by Aramis; but as the latter entered the grotto, he turned round, saying: “Yes, they are entering the wood; and, see, they are bending their steps this way.”
+
+“Very well; let us make room for them,” said Fouquet, smiling and pulling Aramis by his cloak; “but I do not think the king knows of my grotto.”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “they are looking about them, but it is only for a thicker tree.”
+
+Aramis was not mistaken, the king’s looks were directed upward, and not around him. He held La Valliere’s arm within his own, and held her hand in his. La Valliere’s feet began to sleep on the damp grass. Louis again looked round him with greater attention than before, and perceiving an enormous oak with wide-spreading branches, he hurriedly drew La Valliere beneath its protecting shelter. The poor girl looked round her on all sides, and seemed half afraid, half desirous of being followed. The king made her lean back against the trunk of the tree, whose vast circumference, protected by the thickness of the foliage, was as dry as if at that moment the rain had not been falling in torrents. He himself remained standing before her with his head uncovered. After a few minutes, however, some drops of rain penetrated through the branches of the tree and fell on the king’s forehead, who did not pay any attention to them.
+
+“Oh, sire!” murmured La Valliere, pushing the king’s hat towards him. But the king simply bowed, and determinedly refused to cover his head.
+
+“Now or never is the time to offer your place,” said Fouquet in Aramis’s ear.
+
+“Now or never is the time to listen, and not lose a syllable of what they may have to say to each other,” replied Aramis in Fouquet’s ear.
+
+In fact they both remained perfectly silent, and the king’s voice reached them where they were.
+
+“Believe me,” said the king, “I perceive, or rather I can imagine your uneasiness; believe me, I sincerely regret having isolated you from the rest of the company, and brought you, also, to a spot where you will be inconvenienced by the rain. You are wet already, and perhaps cold too?”
+
+“No, sire.”
+
+“And yet you tremble?”
+
+“I am afraid, sire, that my absence may be misinterpreted; at a moment, too, when all the others are reunited.”
+
+“I would not hesitate to propose returning to the carriages, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, but pray look and listen, and tell me if it be possible to attempt to make the slightest progress at present?”
+
+In fact the thunder was still rolling, and the rain continued to fall in torrents.
+
+“Besides,” continued the king, “no possible interpretation can be made which would be to your discredit. Are you not with the king of France; in other words, with the first gentleman of the kingdom?”
+
+“Certainly, sire,” replied La Valliere, “and it is a very distinguished honor for me; it is not, therefore, for myself that I fear any interpretations that may be made.”
+
+“For whom, then?”
+
+“For you, sire.”
+
+“For me?” said the king, smiling, “I do not understand you.”
+
+“Has your majesty already forgotten what took place yesterday evening in her royal highness’s apartments?”
+
+“Oh! forget that, I beg, or allow me to remember it for no other purpose than to thank you once more for your letter, and -- ”
+
+“Sire,” interrupted La Valliere, “the rain is falling, and your majesty’s head is uncovered.”
+
+“I entreat you not to think of anything but yourself.”
+
+“Oh! I,” said La Valliere, smiling, “I am a country girl, accustomed to roaming through the meadows of the Loire and the gardens of Blois, whatever the weather may be. And, as for my clothes,” she added, looking at her simple muslin dress, “your majesty sees there is but little room for injury.”
+
+“Indeed, I have already noticed, more than once, that you owed nearly everything to yourself and nothing to your toilette. Your freedom from coquetry is one of your greatest charms in my eyes.”
+
+“Sire, do not make me out better than I am, and say merely, ‘You cannot possibly be a coquette.’”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because,” said La Valliere, smiling, “I am not rich.”
+
+“You admit, then,” said the king, quickly, “that you have a love for beautiful things?”
+
+“Sire, I only regard those things as beautiful which are within my reach. Everything which is too highly placed for me -- ”
+
+“You are indifferent to?”
+
+“Is foreign to me, as being prohibited.”
+
+“And I,” said the king, “do not find that you are at my court on the footing you should be. The services of your family have not been sufficiently brought under my notice. The advancement of your family was cruelly neglected by my uncle.”
+
+“On the contrary, sire. His royal highness, the Duke of Orleans, was always exceedingly kind towards M. de Saint-Remy, my step-father. The services rendered were humble, and, properly speaking, our services have been adequately recognized. It is not every one who is happy enough to find opportunities of serving his sovereign with distinction. I have no doubt at all, that, if ever opportunities had been met with, my family’s actions would have been as lofty as their loyalty was firm: but that happiness was never ours.”
+
+“In that case, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, it belongs to kings to repair the want of opportunity, and most delightedly do I undertake to repair, in your instance, and with the least possible delay, the wrongs of fortune towards you.”
+
+“Nay, sire,” cried La Valliere, eagerly; “leave things, I beg, as they are now.”
+
+“Is it possible! you refuse what I ought, and what I wish to do for you?”
+
+“All I desired has been granted me, when the honor was conferred upon me of forming one of Madame’s household.”
+
+“But if you refuse for yourself, at least accept for your family.”
+
+“Your generous intentions, sire, bewilder me and make me apprehensive, for, in doing for my family what your kindness urges you to do, your majesty will raise up enemies for us, and enemies for yourself, too. Leave me in the ranks of middle life, sire; of all the feelings and sentiments I experience, leave me to enjoy the pleasing instinct of disinterestedness.”
+
+“The sentiments you express,” said the king, “are indeed admirable.”
+
+“Quite true,” murmured Aramis in Fouquet’s ear, “and he cannot be accustomed to them.”
+
+“But,” replied Fouquet, “suppose she were to make a similar reply to my letter.”
+
+“True!” said Aramis, “let us not anticipate, but wait the conclusion.”
+
+“And then, dear Monsieur d’Herblay,” added the superintendent, hardly able to appreciate the sentiments which La Valliere had just expressed, “it is very often sound calculation to seem disinterested with monarchs.”
+
+“Exactly what I was thinking this very minute,” said Aramis. “Let us listen.”
+
+The king approached nearer to La Valliere, and as the rain dripped more and more through the foliage of the oak, he held his hat over the head of the young girl, who raised her beautiful blue eyes towards the royal hat which sheltered her, and shook her head, sighing deeply as she did so.
+
+“What melancholy thought,” said the king, “can possibly reach your heart when I place mine as a rampart before it?”
+
+“I will tell you, sire. I had already once before broached this question, which is so difficult for a young girl of my age to discuss, but your majesty imposed silence on me. Your majesty belongs not to yourself alone: you are married; and every sentiment which would separate your majesty from the queen, in leading you to take notice of me, will be a source of profoundest sorrow for the queen.” The king endeavored to interrupt the young girl, but she continued with a suppliant gesture. “The Queen Maria, with an attachment which can be well understood, follows with her eyes every step of your majesty which separates you from her. Happy enough in having had her fate united to your own, she weepingly implores Heaven to preserve you to her, and is jealous of the faintest throb of your heart bestowed elsewhere.” The king again seemed anxious to speak, but again did La Valliere venture to prevent him. -- “Would it not, therefore, be a most blamable action,” she continued, “if your majesty, a witness of this anxious and disinterested affection, gave the queen any cause for jealousy? Forgive me, sire, for the expressions I have used. I well know it is impossible, or rather that it would be impossible, that the greatest queen of the whole world could be jealous of a poor girl like myself. But though a queen, she is still a woman, and her heart, like that of the rest of her sex, cannot close itself against the suspicions which such as are evilly disposed, insinuate. For Heaven’s sake, sire, think no more of me; I am unworthy of your regard.”
+
+“Do you not know that in speaking as you have done, you change my esteem for you into the profoundest admiration?”
+
+“Sire, you assume my words to be contrary to the truth; you suppose me to be better than I really am, and attach a greater merit to me than God ever intended should be the case. Spare me, sire; for, did I not know that your majesty was the most generous man in your kingdom, I should believe you were jesting.”
+
+“You do not, I know, fear such a thing; I am quite sure of that,” exclaimed Louis.
+
+“I shall be obliged to believe it, if your majesty continues to hold such language towards me.”
+
+“I am most unhappy, then,” said the king, in a tone of regret which was not assumed; “I am the unhappiest prince in the Christian world, since I am powerless to induce belief in my words, in one whom I love the best in the wide world, and who almost breaks my heart by refusing to credit my regard for her.”
+
+“Oh, sire!” said La Valliere, gently putting the king aside, who had approached nearer to her, “I think the storm has passed away now, and the rain has ceased.” At the very moment, however, as the poor girl, fleeing as it were from her own heart, which doubtless throbbed but too well in unison with the king’s, uttered these words, the storm undertook to contradict her. A dead-white flash of lightning illumined the forest with a weird glare, and a peal of thunder, like a discharge of artillery, burst over their heads, as if the height of the oak that sheltered them had attracted the storm. The young girl could not repress a cry of terror. The king with one hand drew her towards his heart, and stretched the other above her head, as though to shield her from the lightning. A moment’s silence ensued, as the group, delightful as everything young and loving is delightful, remained motionless, while Fouquet and Aramis contemplated it in attitudes as motionless as La Valliere and the king. “Oh, sire!” murmured La Valliere, “do you hear?” and her head fell upon his shoulder.
+
+“Yes,” said the king. “You see, the storm has not passed away.”
+
+“It is a warning, sire.” The king smiled. “Sire, it is the voice of Heaven in anger.”
+
+“Be it so,” said the king. “I agree to accept that peal of thunder as a warning, and even as a menace, if, in five minutes from the present moment, it is renewed with equal violence; but if not, permit me to think that the storm is a storm simply, and nothing more.” And the king, at the same moment, raised his head, as if to interrogate the heavens. But, as if the remark had been heard and accepted, during the five minutes which elapsed after the burst of thunder which had alarmed them, no renewed peal was heard; and, when the thunder was again heard, it was passing as plainly as if, during those same five minutes, the storm, put to flight, had traversed the heavens with the wings of the wind. “Well, Louise,” said the king, in a low tone of voice, “do you still threaten me with the anger of Heaven? and, since you wished to regard the storm as a warning, do you still believe it bodes misfortune?”
+
+The young girl looked up, and saw that while they had been talking, the rain had penetrated the foliage above them, and was trickling down the king’s face. “Oh, sire, sire!” she exclaimed, in accents of eager apprehensions, which greatly agitated the king. “Is it for me,” she murmured, “that the king remains thus uncovered, and exposed to the rain? What am I, then?”
+
+“You are, you perceive,” said the king, “the divinity who dissipates the storm, and brings back fine weather.” In fact, even as the king spoke, a ray of sunlight streamed through the forest, and caused the rain-drops which rested upon the leaves, or fell vertically among the openings in the branches of the trees, to glisten like diamonds.
+
+“Sire,” said La Valliere, almost overcome, but making a powerful effort over herself, “think of the anxieties your majesty will have to submit to on my account. At this very moment, they are seeking you in every direction. The queen must be full of uneasiness; and Madame -- oh, Madame!” the young girl exclaimed, with an expression almost resembling terror.
+
+This name had a certain effect upon the king. He started, and disengaged himself from La Valliere, whom he had, till that moment, held pressed against his heart. He then advanced towards the path, in order to look round, and returned, somewhat thoughtfully, to La Valliere. “Madame, did you say?” he remarked.
+
+“Yes, Madame; she, too, is jealous,” said La Valliere, with a marked tone of voice; and her eyes, so timorous in their expression, and so modestly fugitive in their glance, for a moment, ventured to look inquiringly into the king’s.
+
+“Still,” returned Louis, making an effort over himself, “it seems to me that Madame has no reason, no right to be jealous of me.”
+
+“Alas!” murmured La Valliere.
+
+“Are you, too,” said the king, almost in a tone of reproach, “are you among those who think the sister has a right to be jealous of the brother?”
+
+“It is not for me, sire, to seek to penetrate your majesty’s secrets.”
+
+“You do believe it, then?” exclaimed the king.
+
+“I believe Madame is jealous, sire,” La Valliere replied, firmly.
+
+“Is it possible,” said the king with some anxiety, “that you have perceived it, then, from her conduct towards you? Have her manners in any way been such towards you that you can attribute them to the jealousy you speak of?”
+
+“Not at all, sire; I am of so little importance.”
+
+“Oh! if it were really the case -- ” exclaimed Louis, violently.
+
+“Sire,” interrupted the young girl, “it has ceased raining; some one is coming, I think.” And, forgetful of all etiquette, she had seized the king by the arm.
+
+“Well,” replied the king, “let them come. Who is there who would venture to think I had done wrong in remaining alone with Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”
+
+“For pity’s sake, sire! they will think it strange to see you wet through, in this manner, and that you should have run such risk for me.”
+
+“I have simply done my duty as a gentleman,” said Louis; “and woe to him who may fail in his, in criticising his sovereign’s conduct.” In fact, at this moment a few eager and curious faces were seen in the walk, as if engaged in a search. Catching glimpses at last of the king and La Valliere, they seemed to have found what they were seeking. They were some of the courtiers who had been sent by the queen and Madame, and uncovered themselves, in token of having perceived his majesty. But Louis, notwithstanding La Valliere’s confusion, did not quit his respectful and tender attitude. Then, when all the courtiers were assembled in the walk -- when every one had been able to perceive the extraordinary mark of deference with which he had treated the young girl, by remaining standing and bare-headed during the storm -- he offered her his arm, led her towards the group who were waiting, recognized by an inclination of the head the respectful salutations which were paid him on all sides; and, still holding his hat in his hand, he conducted her to her carriage. And, as a few sparse drops of rain continued to fall -- a last adieu of the vanishing storm -- the other ladies, whom respect had prevented from getting into their carriages before the king, remained altogether unprotected by hood or cloak, exposed to the rain from which the king was protecting, as well as he was able, the humblest among them. The queen and Madame must, like the others, have witnessed this exaggerated courtesy of the king. Madame was so disconcerted at it, that she touched the queen with her elbow, saying at the same time, “Look there, look there.”
+
+The queen closed her eyes as if she had been suddenly seized with a fainting-spell. She lifted her hands to her face and entered her carriage, Madame following her. The king again mounted his horse, and without showing a preference for any particular carriage door, he returned to Fontainebleau, the reins hanging over his horse’s neck, absorbed in thought. As soon as the crowd had disappeared, and the sound of the horses and carriages grew fainter in the distance, and when they were certain, in fact, that no one could see them, Aramis and Fouquet came out of their grotto, and both of them in silence passed slowly on towards the walk. Aramis looked most narrowly not only at the whole extent of the open space stretching out before and behind him, but even into the very depth of the wood.
+
+“Monsieur Fouquet,” he said, when he had quite satisfied himself that they were alone, “we must get back, at any cost, that letter you wrote to La Valliere.”
+
+“That will be easy enough,” said Fouquet, “if my servant has not given it to her.”
+
+“In any case it must be had, do you understand?”
+
+“Yes. The king is in love with the girl, you mean?”
+
+“Deeply, and what is worse is, that on her side, the girl is passionately attached to him.”
+
+“As much as to say that we must change our tactics, I suppose?”
+
+“Not a doubt of it; you have no time to lose. You must see La Valliere, and, without thinking any more of becoming her lover, which is out of the question, must declare yourself her most devoted friend and her most humble servant.”
+
+“I will do so,” replied Fouquet, “and without the slightest feeling of disinclination, for she seems a good-hearted girl.”
+
+“Or a very clever one,” said Aramis; “but in that case, all the greater reason.” Then he added, after a moment’s pause, “If I am not mistaken, that girl will become the strongest passion of the king’s life. Let us return to our carriage, and, as fast as possible, to the chateau.”
+
+Chapter LXIII. Toby.
+
+Two hours after the superintendent’s carriage had set off by Aramis’s directions, conveying them both towards Fontainebleau with the fleetness of the clouds the last breath of the tempest was hurrying across the face of heaven, La Valliere was closeted in her own apartment, with a simple muslin wrapper round her, having just finished a slight repast, which was placed upon a marble table. Suddenly the door was opened, and a servant entered to announce M. Fouquet, who had called to request permission to pay his respects to her. She made him repeat the message twice over, for the poor girl only knew M. Fouquet by name, and could not conceive what business she could possibly have with a superintendent of finances. However, as he might represent the king -- and, after the conversation we have recorded, it was very likely -- she glanced at her mirror, drew out still more the ringlets of her hair, and desired him to be admitted. La Valliere could not, however, refrain from a certain feeling of uneasiness. A visit from the superintendent was not an ordinary event in the life of any woman attached to the court. Fouquet, so notorious for his generosity, his gallantry, and his sensitive delicacy of feeling with regard to women generally, had received more invitations than he had requested audiences. In many houses, the presence of the superintendent had been significant of fortune; in many hearts, of love. Fouquet entered the apartment with a manner full of respect, presenting himself with that ease and gracefulness of manner which was the distinctive characteristic of the men of eminence of that period, and which at the present day seems no longer to be understood, even through the interpretation of the portraits of the period, in which the painter has endeavored to recall them to being. La Valliere acknowledged the ceremonious salutation which Fouquet addressed to her by a gentle inclination of the head, and motioned him to a seat. But Fouquet, with a bow, said, “I will not sit down until you have pardoned me.”
+
+“I?” asked La Valliere, “pardon what?”
+
+Fouquet fixed a most piercing look upon the young girl, and fancied he could perceive in her face nothing but the most unaffected surprise. “I observe,” he said, “that you have as much generosity as intelligence, and I read in your eyes the forgiveness I solicit. A pardon pronounced by your lips is insufficient for me, and I need the forgiveness of your heart and mind.”
+
+“Upon my honor, monsieur,” said La Valliere, “I assure you most positively I do not understand your meaning.”
+
+“Again, that is a delicacy on your part which charms me,” replied Fouquet, “and I see you do not wish me to blush before you.”
+
+“Blush! blush before me! Why should you blush?”
+
+“Can I have deceived myself,” said Fouquet; “and can I have been happy enough not to have offended you by my conduct towards you?”
+
+“Really, monsieur,” said La Valliere, shrugging her shoulders, “you speak in enigmas, and I suppose I am too ignorant to understand you.”
+
+“Be it so,” said Fouquet; “I will not insist. Tell me, only, I entreat you, that I may rely upon your full and complete forgiveness.”
+
+“I have but one reply to make to you, monsieur,” said La Valliere, somewhat impatiently, “and I hope that will satisfy you. If I knew the wrong you have done me, I would forgive you, and I now do so with still greater reason since I am ignorant of the wrong you allude to.”
+
+Fouquet bit his lips, as Aramis would have done. “In that case,” he said, “I may hope, that, notwithstanding what has happened, our good understanding will remain undisturbed, and that you will kindly confer the favor upon me of believing in my respectful friendship.”
+
+La Valliere fancied that she now began to understand, and said to herself, “I should not have believed M. Fouquet so eager to seek the source of a favor so very recent,” and then added aloud, “Your friendship, monsieur! you offer me your friendship. The honor, on the contrary, is mine, and I feel overpowered by it.”
+
+“I am aware,” replied Fouquet, “that the friendship of the master may appear more brilliant and desirable than that of the servant; but I assure you the latter will be quite as devoted, quite as faithful, and altogether disinterested.”
+
+La Valliere bowed, for, in fact, the voice of the superintendent seemed to convey both conviction and real devotion in its tone, and she held out her hand to him, saying, “I believe you.”
+
+Fouquet eagerly took hold of the young girl’s hand. “You see no difficulty, therefore,” he added, “in restoring me that unhappy letter.”
+
+“What letter?” inquired La Valliere.
+
+Fouquet interrogated her with his most searching gaze, as he had already done before, but the same ingenious expressions, the same transparently candid look met his. “I am obliged to confess,” he said, after this denial, “that your heart is the most delicate in the world, and I should not feel I was a man of honor and uprightness if I were to suspect anything from a woman so generous as yourself.”
+
+“Really, Monsieur Fouquet,” replied La Valliere, “it is with profound regret I am obliged to repeat that I absolutely understand nothing of what you refer to.”
+
+“In fact, then, upon your honor, mademoiselle, you have not received any letter from me?”
+
+“Upon my honor, none,” replied La Valliere, firmly.
+
+“Very well, that is quite sufficient; permit me, then, to renew the assurance of my utmost esteem and respect,” said Fouquet. Then, bowing, he left the room to seek Aramis, who was waiting for him in his own apartment, and leaving La Valliere to ask herself whether the superintendent had not lost his senses.
+
+“Well!” inquired Aramis, who was impatiently waiting Fouquet’s return, “are you satisfied with the favorite?”
+
+“Enchanted,” replied Fouquet; “she is a woman full of intelligence and fine feeling.”
+
+“She did not get angry, then?”
+
+“Far from that -- she did not even seem to understand.”
+
+“To understand what?”
+
+“To understand that I had written to her.”
+
+“She must, however, have understood you sufficiently to give the letter back to you, for I presume she returned it.”
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“At least, you satisfied yourself that she had burnt it.”
+
+“My dear Monsieur d’Herblay, I have been playing at cross-purposes for more than an hour, and, however amusing it may be, I begin to have had enough of this game. So understand me thoroughly: the girl pretended not to understand what I was saying to her; she denied having received any letter; therefore, having positively denied its receipt, she was unable either to return or burn it.”
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, with uneasiness, “what is this you tell me?”
+
+“I say that she swore most positively she had not received any letter.”
+
+“That is too much. And did you not insist?”
+
+“On the contrary, I did insist, almost impertinently even.”
+
+“And she persisted in her denial?”
+
+“Unhesitatingly.”
+
+“And did she not contradict herself?”
+
+“Not once.”
+
+“But, in that case, then, you have left our letter in her hands?”
+
+“How could I do otherwise?”
+
+“Oh! it was a great mistake.”
+
+“What the deuce would you have done in my place?”
+
+“One could not force her, certainly, but it is very embarrassing; such a letter ought not to remain in existence against us.”
+
+“Oh! the young girl’s disposition is generosity itself; I looked at her eyes, and I can read eyes well.”
+
+“You think she can be relied upon?”
+
+“From my heart I do.”
+
+“Well, I think we are mistaken.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“I think that, in point of fact, as she herself told you, she did not receive the letter.”
+
+“What! do you suppose -- ”
+
+“I suppose that, from some motive, of which we know nothing, your man did not deliver the letter to her.”
+
+Fouquet rang the bell. A servant appeared. “Send Toby here,” he said. A moment afterwards a man made his appearance, with an anxious, restless look, shrewd expression of the mouth, with short arms, and his back somewhat bent. Aramis fixed a penetrating look upon him.
+
+“Will you allow me to interrogate him myself?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“Do so,” said Fouquet.
+
+Aramis was about to say something to the lackey, when he paused. “No,” he said; “he would see that we attach too much importance to his answer; therefore question him yourself; I will pretend to be writing.” Aramis accordingly placed himself at a table, his back turned towards the old attendant, whose every gesture and look he watched in a looking-glass opposite to him.
+
+“Come here, Toby,” said Fouquet to the valet, who approached with a tolerably firm step. “How did you execute my commission?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“In the usual way, monseigneur,” replied the man.
+
+“But how, tell me?”
+
+“I succeeded in penetrating as far as Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s apartment; but she was at mass, and so I placed the note on her toilette-table. Is not that what you told me to do?”
+
+“Precisely; and is that all?”
+
+“Absolutely all, monseigneur.”
+
+“No one was there?”
+
+“No one.”
+
+“Did you conceal yourself as I told you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And she returned?”
+
+“Ten minutes afterwards.”
+
+“And no one could have taken the letter?”
+
+“No one; for no one had entered the room.”
+
+“From the outside, but from the interior?”
+
+“From the place where I was secreted, I could see to the very end of the room.”
+
+“Now listen to me,” said Fouquet, looking fixedly at the lackey; “if this letter did not reach its proper destination, confess it; for, if a mistake has been made, your head shall be the forfeit.”
+
+Toby started, but immediately recovered himself. “Monseigneur,” he said, “I placed the letter on the very place I told you: and I ask only half an hour to prove to you that the letter is in Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s hand, or to bring you back the letter itself.”
+
+Aramis looked at the valet scrutinizingly. Fouquet was ready in placing confidence in people, and for twenty years this man had served him faithfully. “Go,” he said; “but bring me the proof you speak of.” The lackey quitted the room.
+
+“Well, what do you think of it?” inquired Fouquet of Aramis.
+
+“I think that you must, by some means or another, assure yourself of the truth, either that the letter has, or has not, reached La Valliere; that, in the first case, La Valliere must return it to you, or satisfy you by burning it in your presence; that, in the second, you must have the letter back again, even were it to cost you a million. Come, is not that your opinion?”
+
+“Yes; but still, my dear bishop, I believe you are exaggerating the importance of the affair.”
+
+“Blind, how blind you are!” murmured Aramis.
+
+“La Valliere,” returned Fouquet, “whom we assume to be a schemer of the first ability, is simply nothing more than a coquette, who hopes that I shall pay my court to her, because I have already done so, and who, now that she has received a confirmation of the king’s regard, hopes to keep me in leading strings with the letter. It is natural enough.”
+
+Aramis shook his head.
+
+“Is not that your opinion?” said Fouquet.
+
+“She is not a coquette,” he replied.
+
+“Allow me to tell you -- ”
+
+“Oh! I am well enough acquainted with women who are coquettes,” said Aramis.
+
+“My dear friend!”
+
+“It is a long time ago since I finished my education, you mean. But women are the same, throughout the centuries.”
+
+“True; but men change, and you at the present day are far more suspicious than you formerly were.” And then, beginning to laugh, he added, “Come, if La Valliere is willing to love me only to the extent of a third, and the king two-thirds, do you think the condition acceptable?”
+
+Aramis rose impatiently. “La Valliere,” he said, “has never loved, and never will love, any one but the king.”
+
+“At all events,” said Fouquet, “what would you do?”
+
+“Ask me rather what I would have done?”
+
+“Well! what would you have done?”
+
+“In the first place, I should not have allowed that man to depart.”
+
+“Toby?”
+
+“Yes; Toby is a traitor. Nay, I am sure of it, and I would not have let him go until he had told me the truth.”
+
+“There is still time. I will recall him, and do you question him in your turn.”
+
+“Agreed.”
+
+“But I assure you it is useless. He has been with me for twenty years, and has never made the slightest mistake, and yet,” added Fouquet, laughing, “it would have been easy enough for him to have done so.”
+
+“Still, call him back. This morning I fancy I saw that face, in earnest conversation with one of M. Colbert’s men.”
+
+“Where was that?”
+
+“Opposite the stables.”
+
+“Bah! all my people are at daggers drawn with that fellow.”
+
+“I saw him, I tell you, and his face, which should have been unknown to me when he entered just now, struck me as disagreeably familiar.”
+
+“Why did you not say something, then, while he was here?”
+
+“Because it is only at this very minute that my memory is clear upon the subject.”
+
+“Really,” said Fouquet, “you alarm me.” And he again rang the bell.
+
+“Provided that it is not already too late,” said Aramis.
+
+Fouquet once more rang impatiently. The valet usually in attendance appeared. “Toby!” said Fouquet, “send Toby.” The valet again shut the door.
+
+“You leave me at perfect liberty, I suppose?”
+
+“Entirely so.”
+
+“I may employ all means, then, to ascertain the truth.”
+
+“All.”
+
+“Intimidation, even?”
+
+“I constitute you public prosecutor in my place.”
+
+They waited ten minutes longer, but uselessly, and Fouquet, thoroughly out of patience, again rang loudly.
+
+“Toby!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said the valet, “they are looking for him.”
+
+“He cannot be far distant, I have not given him any commission to execute.”
+
+“I will go and see, monseigneur,” replied the valet, as he closed the door. Aramis, during the interview, walked impatiently, but without a syllable, up and down the cabinet. They waited a further ten minutes. Fouquet rang in a manner to alarm the very dead. The valet again presented himself, trembling in a way to induce a belief that he was the bearer of bad news.
+
+“Monseigneur is mistaken,” he said, before even Fouquet could interrogate him, “you must have given Toby some commission, for he has been to the stables and taken your lordship’s swiftest horse, and saddled it himself.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“And he has gone off.”
+
+“Gone!” exclaimed Fouquet. “Let him be pursued, let him be captured.”
+
+“Nay, nay,” whispered Aramis, taking him by the hand, “be calm, the evil is done.”
+
+The valet quietly went out.
+
+“The evil is done, you say?”
+
+“No doubt; I was sure of it. And now, let us give no cause for suspicion; we must calculate the result of the blow, and ward it off, if possible.”
+
+“After all,” said Fouquet, “the evil is not great.”
+
+“You think so?” said Aramis.
+
+“Of course. Surely a man is allowed to write a love-letter to a woman.”
+
+“A man, certainly; a subject, no; especially, too, when the woman in question is one with whom the king is in love.”
+
+“But the king was not in love with La Valliere a week ago! he was not in love with her yesterday, and the letter is dated yesterday; I could not guess the king was in love, when the king’s affection was not even yet in existence.”
+
+“As you please,” replied Aramis; “but unfortunately the letter is not dated, and it is that circumstance particularly which annoys me. If it had only been dated yesterday, I should not have the slightest shadow of uneasiness on your account.”
+
+Fouquet shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Am I not my own master,” he said, “and is the king, then, king of my brain and of my flesh?”
+
+“You are right,” replied Aramis, “do not let us attach greater importance to matters than is necessary; and besides... Well! if we are menaced, we have means of defense.”
+
+“Oh! menaced!” said Fouquet, “you do not place this gnat bite, as it were, among the number of menaces which may compromise my fortune and my life, do you?”
+
+“Do not forget, Monsieur Fouquet, that the bit of an insect can kill a giant, if the insect be venomous.”
+
+“But has this sovereign power you were speaking of, already vanished?”
+
+“I am all-powerful, it is true, but I am not immortal.”
+
+“Come, then, the most pressing matter is to find Toby again, I suppose. Is not that your opinion?”
+
+“Oh! as for that, you will not find him again,” said Aramis, “and if he were of any great value to you, you must give him up for lost.”
+
+“At all events he is somewhere or another in the world,” said Fouquet.
+
+“You’re right, let me act,” replied Aramis.
+
+Chapter LXIV. Madame’s Four Chances.
+
+Anne of Austria had begged the young queen to pay her a visit. For some time past suffering most acutely, and losing both her youth and beauty with that rapidity which signalizes the decline of women for whom life has been one long contest, Anne of Austria had, in addition to her physical sufferings, to experience the bitterness of being no longer held in any esteem, except as a surviving remembrance of the past, amidst the youthful beauties, wits, and influential forces of her court. Her physician’s opinions, her mirror also, grieved her far less than the inexorable warnings which the society of the courtiers afforded, who, like rats in a ship, abandon the hold into which on the very next voyage the water will infallibly penetrate, owing to the ravages of decay. Anne of Austria did not feel satisfied with the time her eldest son devoted to her. The king, a good son, more from affectation than from affection, had at first been in the habit of passing an hour in the morning and one in the evening with his mother; but, since he had himself undertaken the conduct of state affairs, the duration of the morning and evening’s visit had been reduced by one half; and then, by degrees, the morning visit had been suppressed altogether. They met at mass; the evening visit was replaced by a meeting, either at the king’s assembly or at Madame’s, which the queen attended obligingly enough, out of regard to her two sons.
+
+The result of this was, that Madame gradually acquired an immense influence over the court, which made her apartments the true royal place of meeting. This, Anne of Austria perceived; knowing herself to be very ill, and condemned by her sufferings to frequent retirement, she was distressed at the idea that the greater part of her future days and evenings would pass away solitary, useless, and in despondency. She recalled with terror the isolation in which Cardinal Richelieu had formerly left her, those dreaded and insupportable evenings, during which, however, she had both youth and beauty, which are ever accompanied by hope, to console her. She next formed the project of transporting the court to her own apartments, and of attracting Madame, with her brilliant escort, to her gloomy and already sorrowful abode, where the widow of a king of France, and the mother of a king of France, was reduced to console, in her artificial widowhood, the weeping wife of a king of France.
+
+Anne began to reflect. She had intrigued a good deal in her life. In the good times past, when her youthful mind nursed projects that were, ultimately, invariably successful, she had by her side, to stimulate her ambition and her love, a friend of her own sex, more eager, more ambitious than herself, -- a friend who had loved her, a rare circumstance at courts, and whom some petty considerations had removed from her forever. But for many years past -- except Madame de Motteville, and La Molena, her Spanish nurse, a confidante in her character of countrywoman and woman too -- who could boast of having given good advice to the queen? Who, too, among all the youthful heads there, could recall the past for her, -- that past in which alone she lived? Anne of Austria remembered Madame de Chevreuse, in the first place exiled rather by her wish than the king’s, and then dying in exile, the wife of a gentleman of obscure birth and position. She asked herself what Madame de Chevreuse would have advised her to do in similar circumstances, in their mutual difficulties arising from their intrigues; and after serious reflection, it seemed as if the clever, subtle mind of her friend, full of experience and sound judgment, answered her in the well-remembered ironical tones: “All the insignificant young people are poor and greedy of gain. They require gold and incomes to supply means of amusement; it is by interest you must gain them over.” And Anne of Austria adopted this plan. Her purse was well filled, and she had at her disposal a considerable sum of money, which had been amassed by Mazarin for her, and lodged in a place of safety. She possessed the most magnificent jewels in France, and especially pearls of a size so large that they made the king sigh every time he saw them, because the pearls of his crown were like millet seed compared to them. Anne of Austria had neither beauty nor charms any longer at her disposal. She gave out, therefore, that her wealth was great, and as an inducement for others to visit her apartments she let it be known that there were good gold crowns to be won at play, or that handsome presents were likely to be made on days when all went well with her; or windfalls, in the shape of annuities which she had wrung from the king by entreaty, and thus she determined to maintain her credit. In the first place, she tried these means upon Madame; because to gain her consent was of more importance than anything else. Madame, notwithstanding the bold confidence which her wit and beauty inspired her, blindly ran head foremost into the net thus stretched out to catch her. Enriched by degrees by these presents and transfers of property, she took a fancy to inheritances by anticipation. Anne of Austria adopted the same means towards Monsieur, and even towards the king himself. She instituted lotteries in her apartments. The day on which the present chapter opens, invitations had been issued for a late supper in the queen-mother’s apartments, as she intended that two beautiful diamond bracelets of exquisite workmanship should be put into a lottery. The medallions were antique cameos of the greatest value; the diamonds, in point of intrinsic value, did not represent a very considerable amount, but the originality and rarity of the workmanship were such, that every one at court not only wished to possess the bracelets, but even to see the queen herself wear them; for, on the days she wore them, it was considered as a favor to be admitted to admire them in kissing her hands. The courtiers had, even with regard to this subject, adopted various expressions of gallantry to establish the aphorism, that the bracelets would have been priceless in value if they had not been unfortunate enough to be placed in contact with arms as beautiful as the queen’s. This compliment had been honored by a translation into all the languages of Europe, and numerous verses in Latin and French had been circulated on the subject. The day that Anne of Austria had selected for the lottery was a decisive moment; the king had not been near his mother for a couple of days; Madame, after the great scene of the Dryads and Naiads, was sulking by herself. It is true, the king’s fit of resentment was over, but his mind was absorbingly occupied by a circumstance that raised him above the stormy disputes and giddy pleasures of the court.
+
+Anne of Austria effected a diversion by the announcement of the famous lottery to take place in her apartments on the following evening. With this object in view, she saw the young queen, whom, as we have already seen, she had invited to pay her a visit in the morning. “I have good news to tell you,” she said to her; “the king has been saying the most tender things about you. He is young, you know, and easily drawn away; but so long as you keep near me, he will not venture to keep away from you, to whom, besides, he is most warmly and affectionately attached. I intend to have a lottery this evening and shall expect to see you.”
+
+“I have heard,” said the young queen, with a sort of timid reproach, “that your majesty intends to put in the lottery those lovely bracelets whose rarity is so great that we ought not to allow them to pass out of the custody of the crown, even were there no other reason than that they had once belonged to you.”
+
+“My daughter,” said Anne of Austria, who read the young queen’s thoughts, and wished to console her for not having received the bracelets as a present, “it is positively necessary that I should induce Madame to pass her time in my apartments.”
+
+“Madame!” said the young queen, blushing.
+
+“Of course: would you not prefer to have a rival near you, whom you could watch and influence, to knowing the king is with her, always as ready to flirt as to be flirted with by her? The lottery I have proposed is my means of attraction for that purpose; do you blame me?”
+
+“Oh, no!” returned Maria Theresa, clapping her hands with a childlike expression of delight.
+
+“And you no longer regret, then, that I did not give you these bracelets, as I at first intended to do?”
+
+“Oh, no, no!”
+
+“Very well; make yourself look as beautiful as possible that our supper may be very brilliant; the gayer you seem, the more charming you appear, and you will eclipse all the ladies present as much by your brilliancy as by your rank.”
+
+Maria Theresa left full of delight. An hour afterwards, Anne of Austria received a visit from Madame, whom she covered with caresses, saying, “Excellent news! the king is charmed with my lottery.”
+
+“But I,” replied Madame, “am not so greatly charmed: to see such beautiful bracelets on any one’s arms but yours or mine, is what I cannot reconcile myself to.”
+
+“Well, well,” said Anne of Austria, concealing by a smile a violent pang she had just experienced, “do not look at things in the worst light immediately.”
+
+“Ah, Madame, Fortune is blind, and I am told there are two hundred tickets.”
+
+“Quite as many as that; but you cannot surely forget that there can only be one winner.”
+
+“No doubt. But who will that be? Can you tell?” said Madame, in despair.
+
+“You remind me that I had a dream last night; my dreams are always good, -- I sleep so little.”
+
+“What was your dream? -- but are you suffering?”
+
+“No,” said the queen, stifling with wonderful command the torture of a renewed attack of shooting pains in her bosom; “I dreamed that the king won the bracelets.”
+
+“The king!”
+
+“You are going to ask me, I think, what the king could possibly do with the bracelets?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And you would not add, perhaps, that it would be very fortunate if the king were really to win, for he would be obliged to give the bracelets to some one else.”
+
+“To restore them to you, for instance.”
+
+“In which case I should immediately give them away; for you do not think, I suppose,” said the queen, laughing, “that I have put these bracelets up to a lottery from necessity. My object was to give them without arousing any one’s jealousy; but if Fortune will not get me out of my difficulty -- well, I will teach Fortune a lesson -- and I know very well to whom I intend to offer the bracelets.” These words were accompanied by so expressive a smile, that Madame could not resist paying her by a grateful kiss.
+
+“But,” added Anne of Austria, “do you not know, as well as I do, that if the king were to win the bracelets, he would not restore them to me?”
+
+“You mean he would give them to the queen?”
+
+“No; and for the very same reason that he would not give them back again to me; since, if I had wished to make the queen a present of them, I had no need of him for that purpose.”
+
+Madame cast a side glance upon the bracelets, which, in their casket, were dazzlingly exposed to view upon a table close beside her.
+
+“How beautiful they are,” she said, sighing. “But stay,” Madame continued, “we are quite forgetting that your majesty’s dream was nothing but a dream.”
+
+“I should be very much surprised,” returned Anne of Austria, “if my dream were to deceive me; that has happened to me very seldom.”
+
+“We may look upon you as a prophetess, then.”
+
+“I have already said, that I dream but very rarely; but the coincidence of my dream about this matter, with my own ideas, is extraordinary! it agrees so wonderfully with my own views and arrangements.”
+
+“What arrangements do you allude to?”
+
+“That you will get the bracelets, for instance.”
+
+“In that case, it will not be the king.”
+
+“Oh!” said Anne of Austria, “there is not such a very great distance between his majesty’s heart and your own; for, are you not his sister, for whom he has a great regard? There is not, I repeat, so very wide a distance, that my dream can be pronounced false on that account. Come, let us reckon up the chances in its favor.”
+
+“I will count them.”
+
+“In the first place, we will begin with the dream. If the king wins, he is sure to give you the bracelets.”
+
+“I admit that is one.”
+
+“If you win them, they are yours.”
+
+“Naturally; that may be admitted also.”
+
+“Lastly; -- if Monsieur were to win them!”
+
+“Oh!” said Madame, laughing heartily, “he would give them to the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+Anne of Austria laughed as heartily as her daughter-in-law; so much so, indeed, that her sufferings again returned, and made her turn suddenly pale in the very midst of her enjoyment.
+
+“What is the matter?” inquired Madame, terrified.
+
+“Nothing, nothing; a pain in my side. I have been laughing too much. We were at the fourth chance, I think.”
+
+“I cannot see a fourth.”
+
+“I beg your pardon; I am not excluded from the chance of winning, and if I be the winner, you are sure of me.”
+
+“Oh! thank you, thank you!” exclaimed Madame.
+
+“I hope that you look upon yourself as one whose chances are good, and that my dream now begins to assure the solid outlines of reality.”
+
+“Yes, indeed: you give me both hope and confidence,” said Madame, “and the bracelets, won in this manner, will be a hundred times more precious to me.”
+
+“Well! then, good-bye, until this evening.” And the two princesses separated. Anne of Austria, after her daughter-in-law had left her, said to herself, as she examined the bracelets, “They are, indeed, precious; since, by their means, this evening, I shall have won over a heart to my side, at the same time, fathomed an important secret.”
+
+Then turning towards the deserted recess in her room, she said, addressing vacancy, -- “Is it not thus that you would have acted, my poor Chevreuse? Yes, yes; I know it is.”
+
+And, like a perfume of other, fairer days, her youth, her imagination, and her happiness seemed to be wafted towards the echo of this invocation.
+
+Chapter LXV. The Lottery.
+
+By eight o’clock in the evening, every one had assembled in the queen-mother’s apartments. Anne of Austria, in full dress, beautiful still, from former loveliness, and from all the resources coquetry can command at the hands of clever assistants, concealed, or rather pretended to conceal, from the crowd of courtiers who surrounded her, and who still admired her, thanks to the combination of circumstances which we have indicated in the preceding chapter, the ravages, which were already visible, of the acute suffering to which she finally yielded a few years later. Madame, almost as great a coquette as Anne of Austria, and the queen, simple and natural as usual, were seated beside her, each contending for her good graces. The ladies of honor, united in a body, in order to resist with greater effect, and consequently with more success, the witty and lively conversations which the young men held about them, were enabled, like a battalion formed in a square, to offer each other the means of attack and defense which were thus at their command. Montalais, learned in that species of warfare which consists of sustained skirmishing, protected the whole line by a sort of rolling fire she directed against the enemy. Saint-Aignan, in utter despair at the rigor, which became almost insulting from the very fact of her persisting in it, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente displayed, tried to turn his back upon her; but, overcome by the irresistible brilliancy of her eyes, he, every moment, returned to consecrate his defeat by new submissions, to which Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did not fail to reply by fresh acts of impertinence. Saint-Aignan did not know which way to turn. La Valliere had about her, not exactly a court, but sprinklings of courtiers. Saint-Aignan, hoping by this maneuver to attract Athenais’s attention towards him, approached the young girl, and saluted her with a respect that induced some to believe that he wished to balance Athenais by Louise. But these were persons who had neither been witnesses of the scene during the shower, nor had heard it spoken of. As the majority was already informed, and well informed, too, on the matter, the acknowledged favor with which she was regarded had attracted to her side some of the most astute, as well as the least sensible, members of the court. The former, because they said with Montaigne, “How do I know?” and the latter, who said with Rabelais, “Perhaps.” The greatest number had followed in the wake of the latter, just as in hunting five or six of the best hounds alone follow the scent of the animal hunted, whilst the remainder of the pack follow only the scent of the hounds. The two queens and Madame examined with particular attention the toilettes of their ladies and maids of honor; and they condescended to forget they were queens in recollecting that they were women. In other words, they pitilessly picked to pieces every person present who wore a petticoat. The looks of both princesses simultaneously fell upon La Valliere, who, as we have just said, was completely surrounded at that moment. Madame knew not what pity was, and said to the queen-mother, as she turned towards her, “If Fortune were just, she would favor that poor La Valliere.”
+
+“That is not possible,” said the queen-mother, smiling.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“There are only two hundred tickets, so that it was not possible to inscribe every one’s name on the list.”
+
+“And hers is not there, then?”
+
+“No!”
+
+“What a pity! she might have won them, and then sold them.”
+
+“Sold them!” exclaimed the queen.
+
+“Yes; it would have been a dowry for her, and she would not have been obliged to marry without her trousseau, as will probably be the case.”
+
+“Really,” answered the queen-mother, “poor little thing: has she no dresses, then?”
+
+And she pronounced these words like a woman who has never been able to understand the inconveniences of a slenderly filled purse.
+
+“Stay, look at her. Heaven forgive me, if she is not wearing the very same petticoat this evening that she had on this morning during the promenade, and which she managed to keep clean, thanks to the care the king took of her, in sheltering her from the rain.”
+
+At the very moment Madame uttered these words the king entered the room. The two queens would not perhaps have observed his arrival, so completely were they occupied in their ill-natured remarks, had not Madame noticed that, all at once, La Valliere, who was standing up facing the gallery, exhibited certain signs of confusion, and then said a few words to the courtiers who surrounded her, who immediately dispersed. This movement induced Madame to look towards the door, and at that moment, the captain of the guards announced the king. At this moment La Valliere, who had hitherto kept her eyes fixed upon the gallery, suddenly cast them down as the king entered. His majesty was dressed magnificently and in the most perfect taste; he was conversing with Monsieur and the Duc de Roquelaure, Monsieur on his right, and the Duc de Roquelaure on his left. The king advanced, in the first place, towards the queens, to whom he bowed with an air full of graceful respect. He took his mother’s hand and kissed it, addressed a few compliments to Madame upon the beauty of her toilette, and then began to make the round of the assembly. La Valliere was saluted in the same manner as the others, but with neither more nor less attention. His majesty then returned to his mother and his wife. When the courtiers noticed that the king had only addressed some ordinary remark to the young girl who had been so particularly noticed in the morning, they immediately drew their own conclusion to account for this coldness of manner; this conclusion being, that although the king may have taken a sudden fancy to her, that fancy had already disappeared. One thing, however, must be remarked, that close beside La Valliere, among the number of the courtiers, M. Fouquet was to be seen; and his respectfully attentive manner served to sustain the young girl in the midst of the varied emotions that visibly agitated her.
+
+M. Fouquet was just on the point, moreover, of speaking in a more friendly manner with Mademoiselle de la Valliere, when M. Colbert approached, and after having bowed to Fouquet with all the formality of respectful politeness, he seemed to take up a post beside La Valliere, for the purpose of entering into conversation with her. Fouquet immediately quitted his place. These proceedings were eagerly devoured by the eyes of Montalais and Malicorne, who mutually exchanged their observations on the subject. De Guiche, standing within the embrasure of one of the windows, saw no one but Madame. But as Madame, on her side, frequently glanced at La Valliere, De Guiche’s eyes, following Madame’s, were from time to time cast upon the young girl. La Valliere instinctively felt herself sinking beneath the weight of all these different looks, inspired, some by interest, others by envy. She had nothing to compensate her for her sufferings, not a kind word from her companions, nor a look of affection from the king. No one could possibly express the misery the poor girl was suffering. The queen-mother next directed the small table to be brought forward, on which the lottery-tickets were placed, two hundred in number, and begged Madame de Motteville to read the list of the names. It was a matter of course that this list had been drawn out in strict accordance with the laws of etiquette. The king’s name was first on the list, next the queen-mother, then the queen, Monsieur, Madame, and so on. All hearts throbbed anxiously as the list was read out; more than three hundred persons had been invited, and each of them was anxious to learn whether his or her name was to be found in the number of privileged names. The king listened with as much attention as the others, and when the last name had been pronounced, he noticed that La Valliere had been omitted from the list. Every one, of course, remarked this omission. The king flushed as if much annoyed; but La Valliere, gentle and resigned, as usual, exhibited nothing of the sort. While the list was being read, the king had not taken his eyes off the young girl, who seemed to expand, as it were, beneath the happy influence she felt was shed around her, and who was delighted and too pure in spirit for any other thought than that of love to find an entrance either to her mind or her heart. Acknowledging this touching self-denial by the fixity of his attention, the king showed La Valliere how much he appreciated its delicacy. When the list was finished, the different faces of those who had been omitted or forgotten fully expressed their disappointment. Malicorne was also left out from amongst the men; and the grimace he made plainly said to Montalais, who was also forgotten, “Cannot we contrive to arrange matters with Fortune in such a manner that she shall not forget us?” to which a smile full of intelligence from Mademoiselle Aure, replied: “Certainly we can.”
+
+The tickets were distributed to each according to the number listed. The king received his first, next the queen-mother, then Monsieur, then the queen and Madame, and so on. After this, Anne of Austria opened a small Spanish leather bag, containing two hundred numbers engraved upon small balls of mother-of-pearl, and presented the open sack to the youngest of her maids of honor, for the purpose of taking one of the balls out of it. The eager expectation of the throng, amidst all the tediously slow preparations, was rather that of cupidity than curiosity. Saint-Aignan bent towards Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente to whisper to her, “Since we have each a number, let us unite our two chances. The bracelet shall be yours if I win, and if you are successful, deign to give me but one look of your beautiful eyes.”
+
+“No,” said Athenais, “if you win the bracelet, keep it, every one for himself.”
+
+“You are without any pity,” said Saint-Aignan, “and I will punish you by a quatrain: -- 
+
+“Beautiful Iris, to my vows You are too opposed -- ”
+
+“Silence,” said Athenais, “you will prevent me hearing the winning number.”
+
+“Number one,” said the young girl who had drawn the mother-of-pearl from the Spanish leather bag.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed the queen-mother.
+
+“The king has won,” repeated the queen, delightedly.
+
+“Oh! the king! your dream!” said Madame, joyously, in the ear of Anne of Austria.
+
+The king was the only one who did not exhibit any satisfaction. He merely thanked Fortune for what she had done for him, in addressing a slight salutation to the young girl who had been chosen as her proxy. Then receiving from the hands of Anne of Austria, amid the eager desire of the whole assembly, the casket inclosing the bracelets, he said, “Are these bracelets really beautiful, then?”
+
+“Look at them,” said Anne of Austria, “and judge for yourself.”
+
+The king looked at them, and said, “Yes, indeed, an admirable medallion. What perfect finish!”
+
+Queen Maria Theresa easily saw, and that, too at the very first glance, that the king would not offer the bracelets to her; but, as he did not seem the least degree in the world disposed to offer them to Madame, she felt almost satisfied, or nearly so. The king sat down. The most intimate among the courtiers approached, one by one, for the purpose of admiring more closely the beautiful piece of workmanship, which soon, with the king’s permission, was handed about from person to person. Immediately, every one, connoisseurs or not, uttered various exclamations of surprise, and overwhelmed the king with congratulations. There was, in fact, something for everybody to admire -- the brilliance for some, and the cutting for others. The ladies present visibly displayed their impatience to see such a treasure monopolized by the gentlemen.
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said the king, whom nothing escaped, “one would almost think that you wore bracelets as the Sabines used to do; hand them round for a while for the inspection of the ladies, who seem to have, and with far greater right, an excuse for understanding such matters!”
+
+These words appeared to Madame the commencement of a decision she expected. She gathered, besides, this happy belief from the glances of the queen-mother. The courtier who held them at the moment the king made this remark, amidst the general agitation, hastened to place the bracelets in the hands of the queen, Maria Theresa, who, knowing too well, poor woman, that they were not designed for her, hardly looked at them, and almost immediately passed them on to Madame. The latter, and even more minutely, Monsieur, gave the bracelets a long look of anxious and almost covetous desire. She then handed the jewels to those ladies who were near her, pronouncing this single word, but with an accent which was worth a long phrase, “Magnificent!”
+
+The ladies who had received the bracelets from Madame’s hands looked at them as long as they chose to examine them, and then made them circulate by passing them on towards the right. During this time the king was tranquilly conversing with De Guiche and Fouquet, rather passively letting them talk than himself listening. Accustomed to the set form of ordinary phrases, his ear, like that of all men who exercise an incontestable superiority over others, merely selected from the conversations held in various directions the indispensable word which requires reply. His attention, however, was now elsewhere, for it wandered as his eyes did.
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was the last of the ladies inscribed for tickets; and, as if she had ranked according to her name upon the list, she had only Montalais and La Valliere near her. When the bracelets reached these two latter, no one appeared to take any further notice of them. The humble hands which for a moment touched these jewels, deprived them, for the time, of their importance -- a circumstance which did not, however, prevent Montalais from starting with joy, envy, and covetous desire, at the sight of the beautiful stones still more than at their magnificent workmanship. It is evident that if she were compelled to decide between the pecuniary value and the artistic beauty, Montalais would unhesitatingly have preferred diamonds to cameos, and her disinclination, therefore, to pass them on to her companion, La Valliere, was very great. La Valliere fixed a look almost of indifference upon the jewels.
+
+“Oh, how beautiful, how magnificent these bracelets are!” exclaimed Montalais; “and yet you do not go into ecstasies about them, Louise! You are no true woman, I am sure.”
+
+“Yes, I am, indeed,” replied the young girl, with an accent of the most charming melancholy; “but why desire that which can never, by any possibility, be ours?”
+
+The king, his head bent forward, was listening to what Louise was saying. Hardly had the vibration of her voice reached his ear than he rose, radiant with delight, and passing across the whole assembly, from the place where he stood, to La Valliere, “You are mistaken, mademoiselle,” he said, “you are a woman, and every woman has a right to wear jewels, which are a woman’s appurtenance.”
+
+“Oh, sire!” said La Valliere, “your majesty will not absolutely believe in my modesty?”
+
+“I believe you possess every virtue, mademoiselle; frankness as well as every other; I entreat you, therefore, to say frankly what you think of these bracelets?”
+
+“That they are beautiful, sire, and cannot be offered to any other than a queen.”
+
+“I am delighted that such is your opinion, mademoiselle; the bracelets are yours, and the king begs your acceptance of them.”
+
+And as, with a movement almost resembling terror, La Valliere eagerly held out the casket to the king, the king gently pushed back her trembling hand.
+
+A silence of astonishment, more profound than that of death, reigned in the assembly.
+
+And yet, from the side where the queens were, no one had heard what he had said, nor understood what he had done. A charitable friend, however, took upon herself to spread the news; it was Tonnay-Charente, to whom Madame had made a sign to approach.
+
+“Good heavens!” explained Tonnay-Charente, “how happy that La Valliere is! the king has just given her the bracelets.”
+
+Madame bit her lips to such a degree that the blood appeared upon the surface of the skin. The young queen looked first at La Valliere and then at Madame, and began to laugh. Anne of Austria rested her chin upon her beautiful white hand, and remained for a long time absorbed by a presentiment that disturbed her mind, and by a terrible pang which stung her heart. De Guiche, observing Madame turn pale, and guessing the cause of her change of color, abruptly quitted the assembly and disappeared. Malicorne was then able to approach Montalais very quietly, and under cover of the general din of conversation, said to her:
+
+“Aure, your fortune and our future are standing at your elbow.”
+
+“Yes,” was her reply, as she tenderly embraced La Valliere, whom, inwardly, she was tempted to strangle.
+
+End of Ten Years Later. The next text in the series is Louise de la Valliere.
+
+Footnotes:
+
+[Footnote 1: In the three-volume edition, Volume 1, entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, ends here.]
+
+[Footnote 2: In most other editions, the previous chapter and the next are usually combined into one chapter, entitled “D’Artagnan calls De Wardes to account.”]
+
+[Footnote 3: Dumas is mistaken. The events in the following chapters occurred in 1661.]
+
+[Footnote 4: In the five-volume edition, Volume 2 ends here.]
+
+[Footnote 5: The verses in this chapter have been re-written to give the flavor of them rather than the meaning. A more literal translation would look like this:
+
+“Guiche is the furnisher Of the maids of honor.”
+
+and -- 
+
+“He has stocked the birdcage; Montalais and -- ”
+
+It would be more accurate, though, to say “baited” rather than “stocked” in the second couplet.]
+
+[Footnote 6: The Latin translates to “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”]
+
+[Footnote 7: “Ad majorem Dei gloriam” was the motto of the Jesuits. It translates to “For the greater glory of God.”]
+
+[Footnote 8: “In the presence of these men?”]
+
+[Footnote 9: “By this sign you shall conquer.”]
+
+[Footnote 10: “It rained all night long; the games will be held tomorrow.”]
+
+[Footnote 11: “Lord, I am not worthy.”]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5863/metadata.json b/benchmark/5863/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4ff111b478ecb1d20cea196439f6f607d16eebe3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5863/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "5863", "title": "Ten Years Later", "description": "After <i>The Three Muskateers</i> and <i>Twenty Years After</i> the adventurous story of Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan continues!<br><br><i>The Vicomte of Bragelonne: Ten Years Later</i> (French: <i>Le Vicomte de Bragelonne ou Dix ans plus tard</i>) is the last of the Musketeer novels. It is usually divided into four volumes and this second volume contains chapters 76-140. (Summary by Diana Majlinger)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2681", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1850", "num_sections": "65", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/5863", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/tenyears_later_1301_librivox/tenyears_later_1301_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Vicomte_de_Bragelonne", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/ten-years-later-by-alexandre-dumas/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "19:47:26", "totaltimesecs": 71246, "authors": [{"id": "431", "first_name": "Alexandre", "last_name": "Dumas", "dob": "1802", "dod": "1870"}], "genre": ["Action & Adventure Fiction", "Historical Fiction", "Romance"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["tenyearslater_01_dumas", "tenyearslater_02_dumas", "tenyearslater_03_dumas", "tenyearslater_04_dumas", "tenyearslater_05_dumas", "tenyearslater_06_dumas", "tenyearslater_07_dumas", "tenyearslater_08_dumas", "tenyearslater_09_dumas", "tenyearslater_10_dumas", "tenyearslater_11_dumas", "tenyearslater_12_dumas", "tenyearslater_13_dumas", "tenyearslater_14_dumas", "tenyearslater_15_dumas", "tenyearslater_16_dumas", "tenyearslater_17_dumas", "tenyearslater_18_dumas", "tenyearslater_19_dumas", "tenyearslater_20_dumas", "tenyearslater_21_dumas", "tenyearslater_22_dumas", "tenyearslater_23_dumas", "tenyearslater_24_dumas", "tenyearslater_25_dumas", "tenyearslater_26_dumas", "tenyearslater_27_dumas", "tenyearslater_28_dumas", "tenyearslater_29_dumas", "tenyearslater_30_dumas", "tenyearslater_31_dumas", "tenyearslater_32_dumas", "tenyearslater_33_dumas", "tenyearslater_34_dumas", "tenyearslater_35_dumas", "tenyearslater_36_dumas", "tenyearslater_37_dumas", "tenyearslater_38_dumas", "tenyearslater_39_dumas", "tenyearslater_40_dumas", "tenyearslater_41_dumas", "tenyearslater_42_dumas", "tenyearslater_43_dumas", "tenyearslater_44_dumas", "tenyearslater_45_dumas", "tenyearslater_46_dumas", "tenyearslater_47_dumas", "tenyearslater_48_dumas", "tenyearslater_49_dumas", "tenyearslater_50_dumas", "tenyearslater_51_dumas", "tenyearslater_52_dumas", "tenyearslater_53_dumas", "tenyearslater_54_dumas", "tenyearslater_55_dumas", "tenyearslater_56_dumas", "tenyearslater_57_dumas", "tenyearslater_58_dumas", "tenyearslater_59_dumas", "tenyearslater_60_dumas", "tenyearslater_61_dumas", "tenyearslater_62_dumas", "tenyearslater_63_dumas", "tenyearslater_64_dumas", "tenyearslater_65_dumas"], "readers": [["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["5588"], ["6930"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["5588"], ["7131"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5927"], ["7131"], ["2033"], ["2033"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7434"], ["7434"], ["7434"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["7127"], ["7127"], ["7127"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["5927"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["5038"], ["5038"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4970f594f7442172eaaa956418b65c2bdc526667
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5957/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4992/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4992", "quotations": [{"text": "'over my hollow heart.", "start_byte": 22544, "end_byte": 22566, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 67.1049981689453, "cut_end_time": 68.4900606689453, "narration": {"text": " I felt all this keenly -- I did not think it was right -- but what was I to do?", "cut_start_time": 69.78499969482421, "cut_end_time": 74.58006219482421, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "It was bitter. I had always tried to preserve as many of the moral principles which had been instilled into me as can be conveniently retained in this grasping world, and it had been my pride that, roughly speaking, I had never been guilty of an unmistakable falsehood.\n\nBut henceforth, if I meant to win Lilian, that boast must be relinquished for ever! I should have to lie now with all my might, without limit or scruple, to dissemble incessantly, and 'wear a mask,' as the poet Bunn beautifully expressed it long ago, <|quote_start|>'over my hollow heart.'<|quote_end|> I felt all this keenly -- I did not think it was right -- but what was I to do?\n\nAfter thinking all this out very carefully, I decided that my only course was to bury the poor animal where he fell and say nothing about it. With some vague idea of precaution I first took off the silver collar he wore, and then hastily interred him with a garden-trowel and succeeded in removing all traces of the disaster.\n\nI fancy I felt a certain relief in the knowledge that there would now be no necessity to tell my pitiful story and risk the loss of my neighbours' esteem.", "narrative_information_pred": {"expressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "'I don't see the dog,", "start_byte": 25356, "end_byte": 25377, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 261.8949890136719, "cut_end_time": 263.4200515136719, "narration": {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "My conscience smote me as I went in. I put on an unconscious easy manner, which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they were too much engrossed to notice it.\n\nI never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.\n\n<|quote_start|>'I don't see the dog,'<|quote_end|> I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?", "start_byte": 25388, "end_byte": 25457, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 264.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 268.7400576171875, "narration": {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "My conscience smote me as I went in. I put on an unconscious easy manner, which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they were too much engrossed to notice it.\n\nI never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.\n\n'I don't see the dog,' I began. <|quote_start|>'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?'<|quote_end|> I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him", "narrative_information_pred": {"wondered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "'Why, the fact is,", "start_byte": 25553, "end_byte": 25571, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 275.86500244140626, "cut_end_time": 277.06000244140625, "narration": {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.\n\n'I don't see the dog,' I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n<|quote_start|>'Why, the fact is,'<|quote_end|> said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'", "start_byte": 25628, "end_byte": 25690, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 280.25498657226564, "cut_end_time": 284.52004907226564, "narration": {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.\n\n'I don't see the dog,' I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, <|quote_start|>'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!", "start_byte": 25692, "end_byte": 25736, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 286.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 288.70011767578126, "narration": {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.\n\n'I don't see the dog,' I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!'<|quote_end|> said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "plaintively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "'I wouldn't have believed it of him,", "start_byte": 25833, "end_byte": 25869, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 294.8350036621094, "cut_end_time": 296.7400661621094, "narration": {"text": " said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "cut_start_time": 288.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 293.3800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n<|quote_start|>'I wouldn't have believed it of him,'<|quote_end|> said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'", "start_byte": 25889, "end_byte": 25984, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.85499267578126, "cut_end_time": 303.62005517578126, "narration": {"text": " said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "cut_start_time": 288.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 293.3800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.\n\n'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; <|quote_start|>'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'", "start_byte": 26015, "end_byte": 26107, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 306.3849938964844, "cut_end_time": 313.0800563964844, "narration": {"text": " said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "cut_start_time": 288.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 293.3800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'\n\n'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, <|quote_start|>'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'\n\nI said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.\n\n'He's not dead!' cried Mrs. Currie.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pleaded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'", "start_byte": 26145, "end_byte": 26409, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 315.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 330.44005029296875, "narration": {"text": " said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "cut_start_time": 288.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 293.3800771484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.\n\n'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'\n\n'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. <|quote_start|>'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'<|quote_end|>\n\nI said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.\n\n'He's not dead!' cried Mrs. Currie. 'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'm sure I should! But I'm certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "angrily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "'He's not dead!", "start_byte": 26481, "end_byte": 26496, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 336.565, "cut_end_time": 337.61, "narration": {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'\n\n'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'\n\nI said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.\n\n<|quote_start|>'He's not dead!'<|quote_end|> cried Mrs. Currie. 'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'm sure I should! But I'm certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'", "start_byte": 26517, "end_byte": 26564, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 338.3349853515625, "cut_end_time": 340.8000478515625, "narration": {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'\n\nI said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.\n\n'He's not dead!' cried Mrs. Currie. <|quote_start|>'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'<|quote_end|>m sure I should! But I'm certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'\n\nIt will be easily understood what torture conversations like these were to me, and how I hated myself as I sympathised and spoke encouraging words concerning the dog's recovery, when I knew all the time he was lying hid under my garden mould. But I took it as a part of my punishment, and bore it all uncomplainingly; practice even made me an adept in the art of consolation -- I believe I really was a great comfort to them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'", "start_byte": 28806, "end_byte": 28923, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 505.3049951171875, "cut_end_time": 512.1801201171875, "narration": {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.\n\n'Unless what?' I asked. <|quote_start|>'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "'Do you want to know really?", "start_byte": 28925, "end_byte": 28953, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 513.5350170898438, "cut_end_time": 515.2500170898438, "narration": {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.\n\n'Unless what?' I asked. 'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Do you want to know really?'<|quote_end|> she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'", "start_byte": 29001, "end_byte": 29040, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 518.3950170898438, "cut_end_time": 521.5300795898438, "narration": {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.\n\n'Unless what?' I asked. 'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'\n\n'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. <|quote_start|>'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'<|quote_end|>\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "'What about Bingo?", "start_byte": 29152, "end_byte": 29170, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 530.9049975585938, "cut_end_time": 532.0800600585937, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.\n\n'Unless what?' I asked. 'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'\n\n'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! <|quote_start|>'What about Bingo?'<|quote_end|> I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said;", "narrative_information_pred": {"managed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "pronounce": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "dry": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "'You never l-loved him when he was here,", "start_byte": 29216, "end_byte": 29256, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 535.5350122070313, "cut_end_time": 538.3400122070312, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'\n\n'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You never l-loved him when he was here,'<|quote_end|> she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"sobbed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "'you know you didn't!'", "start_byte": 29270, "end_byte": 29292, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 538.8850048828125, "cut_end_time": 540.1400673828125, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'\n\n'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; <|quote_start|>'you know you didn't!'<|quote_end|>\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"sobbed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'", "start_byte": 29368, "end_byte": 29528, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 548.0850048828125, "cut_end_time": 557.9800673828125, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'\n\nI started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; <|quote_start|>'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'\n\n'What do you mean, Lilian?' I said hoarsely. 'How could I find him?' Again I feared the worst.\n\n'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'", "start_byte": 29556, "end_byte": 29788, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 560.6350146484375, "cut_end_time": 575.6700146484375, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.\n\n'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'\n\nI was relieved to find it was no worse than this.\n\n'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said; <|quote_start|>'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'What do you mean, Lilian?' I said hoarsely. 'How could I find him?' Again I feared the worst.\n\n'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'\n\nLilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "'What do you mean, Lilian?", "start_byte": 29790, "end_byte": 29816, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 576.835, "cut_end_time": 578.3000625, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'What do you mean, Lilian?'<|quote_end|> I said hoarsely. 'How could I find him?' Again I feared the worst.\n\n'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'\n\nLilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hoarsely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "'How could I find him?", "start_byte": 29835, "end_byte": 29857, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.0550170898438, "cut_end_time": 580.3600795898437, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'\n\n'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'\n\n'What do you mean, Lilian?' I said hoarsely. <|quote_start|>'How could I find him?'<|quote_end|> Again I feared the worst.\n\n'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'\n\nLilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hoarsely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "'You know that isn't just, Lilian,", "start_byte": 30549, "end_byte": 30583, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 627.8050024414063, "cut_end_time": 630.0200024414063, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'\n\nLilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.\n\nHe was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You know that isn't just, Lilian,'<|quote_end|> I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you'", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "'But only tell me what you want me to do?'", "start_byte": 30596, "end_byte": 30638, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 630.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 634.2600146484375, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.\n\nHe was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed <|quote_start|>'But only tell me what you want me to do?'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you'", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!", "start_byte": 30640, "end_byte": 30672, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 634.3549731445313, "cut_end_time": 636.2400356445313, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.\n\nHe was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!'<|quote_end|> she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "'Bring back Bingo!", "start_byte": 30685, "end_byte": 30703, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 637.6950024414062, "cut_end_time": 639.2600024414063, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.\n\nHe was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n<|quote_start|>'Bring back Bingo!'<|quote_end|> I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'", "start_byte": 30724, "end_byte": 30812, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 640.9549755859375, "cut_end_time": 645.9401005859376, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.\n\nHe was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. <|quote_start|>'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'<|quote_end|>\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'\n\nIt was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "'I can't help it,", "start_byte": 30814, "end_byte": 30831, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 646.9050073242188, "cut_end_time": 648.1600698242188, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n<|quote_start|>'I can't help it,'<|quote_end|> she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'\n\nIt was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you'r", "start_byte": 30843, "end_byte": 31030, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 649.1949829101562, "cut_end_time": 659.9000454101563, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.\n\n'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'\n\n'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.\n\n'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'\n\n'I can't help it,' she said; <|quote_start|>'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're<|quote_end|> not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'\n\nIt was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "not": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "quite": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "sincere": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "'followed a gentleman", "start_byte": 32657, "end_byte": 32678, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 776.1150170898437, "cut_end_time": 777.2200170898437, "narration": {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "So, partly with this object, and partly to appease the remorse which now revived and stung me deeper than before, I undertook long and weary pilgrimages after office hours. I spent many pounds in advertisements; I interviewed dogs of every size, colour, and breed, and of course I took care to keep Lilian informed of each successive failure. But still her heart was not touched; she was firm. If I went on like that, she told me, I was certain to find Bingo one day -- then, but not before, would her doubts be set at rest.\n\nI was walking one day through the somewhat squalid district which lies between Bow Street and High Holborn, when I saw, in a small theatrical costumier's window, a handbill stating that a black poodle had <|quote_start|>'followed a gentleman'<|quote_end|> on a certain date, and if not claimed and the finder remunerated before a stated time, would be sold to pay expenses.\n\nI went in and got a copy of the bill to show Lilian, and although by that time I scarcely dared to look a poodle in the face, I thought I would go to the address given and see the animal, simply to be able to tell Lilian I had done so.\n\nThe gentleman whom the dog had very unaccountably followed was a certain Mr. William Blagg, who kept a little shop near Endell Street, and called himself a bird-fancier, though I should scarcely have credited him with the necessary imagination. He was an evil-browed ruffian in a fur cap, with a broad broken nose and little shifty red eyes, and after I had told him what I wanted, he took me through a horrible little den, stacked with piles of wooden, wire, and wicker prisons, each quivering with restless, twittering life, and then out into a back yard, in which were two or three rotten old kennels and tubs. 'That there's him,' he said, jerking his thumb to the farthest tub; 'follered me all the way 'ome from Kinsington Gardings, he did. Kim out, will yer?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"had": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'", "start_byte": 34795, "end_byte": 34853, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 923.1549731445313, "cut_end_time": 926.7200356445313, "narration": {"text": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly,", "cut_start_time": 915.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 923.2000380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "At least, so I thought for a moment, and felt as if I had seen a spectre; the resemblance was so exact -- in size, in every detail, even to the little clumps of hair about the hind parts, even to the lop of half an ear, this dog might have been the 'doppel-g\u00e4nger' of the deceased Bingo. I suppose, after all, one black poodle is very like any other black poodle of the same size, but the likeness startled me.\n\nI think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.\n\nAlmost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, <|quote_start|>'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "'He don't seem to be a puttin", "start_byte": 34855, "end_byte": 34884, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 928.20498046875, "cut_end_time": 929.86010546875, "narration": {"text": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly,", "cut_start_time": 915.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 923.2000380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.\n\nAlmost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'He don't seem to be a puttin'<|quote_end|> of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry eveni", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "'isself out about seeing you again,", "start_byte": 34889, "end_byte": 34924, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 929.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 932.0400454101563, "narration": {"text": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly,", "cut_start_time": 915.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 923.2000380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.\n\nAlmost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'\n\n'He don't seem to be a puttin' of <|quote_start|>'isself out about seeing you again,'<|quote_end|> observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,", "start_byte": 34994, "end_byte": 35032, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 936.734990234375, "cut_end_time": 939.510115234375, "narration": {"text": " mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this", "cut_start_time": 947.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 952.87004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.\n\nAlmost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'\n\n'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n<|quote_start|>'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,'<|quote_end|> I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "'he belongs to a friend of mine!'", "start_byte": 35042, "end_byte": 35075, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 940.7050244140626, "cut_end_time": 942.3100869140625, "narration": {"text": " mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this", "cut_start_time": 947.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 952.87004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'\n\n'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; <|quote_start|>'he belongs to a friend of mine!'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'\n\nHe gave me a curious leer.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "'Then maybe you'r", "start_byte": 35112, "end_byte": 35129, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 946.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 947.5000981445313, "narration": {"text": " mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this", "cut_start_time": 947.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 952.87004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'\n\n'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. <|quote_start|>'Then maybe you're<|quote_end|> mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'\n\nHe gave me a curious leer. 'No offence, you know, guv'nor,' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"mistook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "'ere werry evenin", "start_byte": 35226, "end_byte": 35243, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 952.8649877929688, "cut_end_time": 953.9000502929688, "narration": {"text": " to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'", "cut_start_time": 953.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 960.4200502929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.\n\n'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'\n\nHe gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this <|quote_start|>'ere werry evenin'<|quote_end|> to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'\n\nHe gave me a curious leer. 'No offence, you know, guv'nor,' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'\n\n'Well,' I said,", "narrative_information_pred": {"to": {"id": "1", "type": "preposition", "confidence": 7}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "'No offence, you know, guv'nor,", "start_byte": 35414, "end_byte": 35445, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 966.974970703125, "cut_end_time": 968.740095703125, "narration": {"text": " to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'", "cut_start_time": 953.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 960.4200502929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "He gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'\n\nHe gave me a curious leer. <|quote_start|>'No offence, you know, guv'nor,'<|quote_end|> he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'\n\n'Well,' I said, 'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'\n\nHe took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog. 'Ah,' he said, as he put it in his pocket,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'", "start_byte": 35573, "end_byte": 35620, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 976.3750244140625, "cut_end_time": 979.4000869140625, "narration": {"text": "Surely some who read this will be generous enough to consider the peculiar state of the case, and mingle a little pity with their contempt.", "cut_start_time": 1064.7349951171875, "cut_end_time": 1072.0601201171874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'\n\n'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'\n\nHe gave me a curious leer. 'No offence, you know, guv'nor,' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'\n\n'Well,' I said, <|quote_start|>'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog. 'Ah,' he said, as he put it in his pocket, 'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordi", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordin", "start_byte": 35847, "end_byte": 36030, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 995.3949731445313, "cut_end_time": 1005.9800981445313, "narration": {"text": "Surely some who read this will be generous enough to consider the peculiar state of the case, and mingle a little pity with their contempt.", "cut_start_time": 1064.7349951171875, "cut_end_time": 1072.0601201171874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'\n\n'Well,' I said, 'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'\n\nHe took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog. 'Ah,' he said, as he put it in his pocket, <|quote_start|>'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordin'<|quote_end|>, you see.'\n\nI wanted to get the hateful business over as soon as possible. I did not care what I paid -- Lilian was worth all the expense! I said I had no doubt myself as to the real ownership of the animal, but I would give him any sum in reason, and would remove the dog at once.\n\nAnd so we settled it. I paid him an extortionate sum, and came away with a duplicate poodle, a canine counterfeit which I hoped to pass off at Shuturgarden as the long-lost Bingo.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "'Will you believe now that I am sincere?", "start_byte": 38462, "end_byte": 38502, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1171.455029296875, "cut_end_time": 1173.9900917968748, "narration": {"text": "The next morning I wrote a note to Mrs. Currie, expressing my pleasure at being able to restore the lost one, and another to Lilian, containing only the words,", "cut_start_time": 1161.915029296875, "cut_end_time": 1170.9900917968748, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "When I got him home, I put Bingo's silver collar round his neck -- congratulating myself on my forethought in preserving it, and took him in to see my mother. She accepted him as what he seemed, without the slightest misgiving; but this, though it encouraged me to go on, was not decisive, the spurious poodle would have to encounter the scrutiny of those who knew every tuft on the genuine animal's body!\n\nNothing would have induced me to undergo such an ordeal as that of personally restoring him to the Curries. We gave him supper, and tied him up on the lawn, where he howled dolefully all night, and buried bones.\n\nThe next morning I wrote a note to Mrs. Currie, expressing my pleasure at being able to restore the lost one, and another to Lilian, containing only the words, <|quote_start|>'Will you believe now that I am sincere?'<|quote_end|> Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.\n\n* * * * *\n\nI had an anxious walk home from the station that evening; I went round by the longer way, trembling the whole time lest I should meet any of the Currie household, to which I felt myself entirely unequal just then. I could not rest until I knew whether my fraud had succeeded, or if the poodle to which I had entrusted my fate had basely betrayed me; but my suspense was happily ended as soon as I entered my mother's room. 'You can't think how delighted those poor Curries were to see Bingo again,'she said at once; 'and they said such charming things about you, Algy -- Lilian, particularly -- quite affected she seemed, poor child! And they wanted you to go round and dine there and be thanked to-night, but at last I persuaded them to come to us instead. And the", "narrative_information_pred": {"containing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "'re going to bring the dog to make friends. Oh, and I met Frank Travers; he's back from circuit again now, so I asked him in too, to meet them!'", "start_byte": 39428, "end_byte": 39572, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1234.41494140625, "cut_end_time": 1244.06000390625, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "I had an anxious walk home from the station that evening; I went round by the longer way, trembling the whole time lest I should meet any of the Currie household, to which I felt myself entirely unequal just then. I could not rest until I knew whether my fraud had succeeded, or if the poodle to which I had entrusted my fate had basely betrayed me; but my suspense was happily ended as soon as I entered my mother's room. 'You can't think how delighted those poor Curries were to see Bingo again,'she said at once; 'and they said such charming things about you, Algy -- Lilian, particularly -- quite affected she seemed, poor child! And they wanted you to go round and dine there and be thanked to-night, but at last I persuaded them to come to us instead. And they<|quote_start|>'re going to bring the dog to make friends. Oh, and I met Frank Travers; he's back from circuit again now, so I asked him in too, to meet them!'<|quote_end|>\n\nI drew a deep breath of relief. I had played a desperate game -- but I had won! I could have wished, to be sure, that my mother had not thought of bringing in Travers on that of all evenings -- but I hoped that I could defy him after this.\n\nThe Colonel and his people were the first to arrive; he and his wife being so effusively grateful that they made me very uncomfortable indeed; Lilian met me with downcast eyes, and the faintest possible blush, but she said nothing just then. Five minutes afterwards, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "'Mr. Weatherhead -- Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?", "start_byte": 40260, "end_byte": 40351, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1289.7750195312499, "cut_end_time": 1296.76008203125, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "I drew a deep breath of relief. I had played a desperate game -- but I had won! I could have wished, to be sure, that my mother had not thought of bringing in Travers on that of all evenings -- but I hoped that I could defy him after this.\n\nThe Colonel and his people were the first to arrive; he and his wife being so effusively grateful that they made me very uncomfortable indeed; Lilian met me with downcast eyes, and the faintest possible blush, but she said nothing just then. Five minutes afterwards, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly, <|quote_start|>'Mr. Weatherhead -- Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?'<|quote_end|> And I replied that, upon the whole, I could.\n\nWe were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shyly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,", "start_byte": 41510, "end_byte": 41549, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1379.8350292968748, "cut_end_time": 1381.820029296875, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "We were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,'<|quote_end|> said the Colonel. 'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'\n\nI saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'", "start_byte": 41569, "end_byte": 41850, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1382.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 1401.1000771484373, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "We were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.\n\n'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,' said the Colonel. <|quote_start|>'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'<|quote_end|>\n\nI saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.\n\n'You can't think,' I heard Mrs. Currie telling my mother, 'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 58}, {"text": "'You can't think,", "start_byte": 42106, "end_byte": 42123, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1418.6149951171874, "cut_end_time": 1419.7801201171874, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'\n\nI saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You can't think,'<|quote_end|> I heard Mrs. Currie telling my mother, 'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"telling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,", "start_byte": 42690, "end_byte": 42730, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1455.5149609374998, "cut_end_time": 1458.0600234375, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,'<|quote_end|> said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'", "start_byte": 42745, "end_byte": 42788, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1459.1450439453124, "cut_end_time": 1461.4101064453125, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; <|quote_start|>'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his;", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 62}, {"text": "'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!", "start_byte": 42790, "end_byte": 42822, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1462.255009765625, "cut_end_time": 1464.310072265625, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!'<|quote_end|> said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his;", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 63}, {"text": "'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'", "start_byte": 42852, "end_byte": 42916, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1465.9250537109374, "cut_end_time": 1469.1501162109373, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_49.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; <|quote_start|>'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_49.flac", "original_index": 64}, {"text": "'Ah, those cats!", "start_byte": 42918, "end_byte": 42934, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1470.3150390624999, "cut_end_time": 1471.6801015624999, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_50.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Ah, those cats!'<|quote_end|> said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_50.flac", "original_index": 65}, {"text": "'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They'r", "start_byte": 42966, "end_byte": 43041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1473.5649853515624, "cut_end_time": 1476.9200478515625, "narration": {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_51.flac"}, "context": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'\n\n'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. <|quote_start|>'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're<|quote_end|> worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother.", "narrative_information_pred": {"worse": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_51.flac", "original_index": 66}, {"text": "'That's a good idea,", "start_byte": 43141, "end_byte": 43161, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1486.0349755859374, "cut_end_time": 1487.1401005859375, "narration": {"text": "I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time.", "cut_start_time": 1479.664951171875, "cut_end_time": 1485.050013671875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_52.flac"}, "context": "'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'\n\n'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. <|quote_start|>'That's a good idea,'<|quote_end|> he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_52.flac", "original_index": 67}, {"text": "'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?", "start_byte": 43214, "end_byte": 43276, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1490.61498046875, "cut_end_time": 1494.99004296875, "narration": {"text": "I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time.", "cut_start_time": 1479.664951171875, "cut_end_time": 1485.050013671875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_53.flac"}, "context": "' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'\n\n'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; <|quote_start|>'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?'<|quote_end|> I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_53.flac", "original_index": 69}, {"text": "'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,", "start_byte": 43364, "end_byte": 43416, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1502.5449999999998, "cut_end_time": 1505.8100625, "narration": {"text": " I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.", "cut_start_time": 1495.7349462890625, "cut_end_time": 1501.0500087890623, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_54.flac"}, "context": "'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'\n\nI troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n<|quote_start|>'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,'<|quote_end|> said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_54.flac", "original_index": 70}, {"text": "'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'", "start_byte": 43434, "end_byte": 43635, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1507.1649658203123, "cut_end_time": 1519.0300283203123, "narration": {"text": " I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.", "cut_start_time": 1495.7349462890625, "cut_end_time": 1501.0500087890623, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_55.flac"}, "context": "I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. <|quote_start|>'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'\n\n'If you really won't take any more wine,' I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, 'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_55.flac", "original_index": 71}, {"text": "'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'", "start_byte": 43715, "end_byte": 43902, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1524.4050341796874, "cut_end_time": 1535.6800966796875, "narration": {"text": " said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences,", "cut_start_time": 1520.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1524.0101162109374, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_56.flac"}, "context": "' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.\n\n'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, <|quote_start|>'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'If you really won't take any more wine,' I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, 'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.' For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.\n\nI left Travers to amuse the ladies -- he could do no more harm now; and taking the Colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_56.flac", "original_index": 73}, {"text": "'If you really won't take any more wine,", "start_byte": 43904, "end_byte": 43944, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1536.88501953125, "cut_end_time": 1539.38008203125, "narration": {"text": " said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences,", "cut_start_time": 1520.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1524.0101162109374, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_57.flac"}, "context": "'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'If you really won't take any more wine,'<|quote_end|> I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, 'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.' For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.\n\nI left Travers to amuse the ladies -- he could do no more harm now; and taking the Colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_57.flac", "original_index": 74}, {"text": "'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.", "start_byte": 44000, "end_byte": 44086, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1542.5449902343748, "cut_end_time": 1547.630115234375, "narration": {"text": " said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences,", "cut_start_time": 1520.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1524.0101162109374, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_58.flac"}, "context": "'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'\n\n'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'\n\n'If you really won't take any more wine,' I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, <|quote_start|>'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.'<|quote_end|> For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.\n\nI left Travers to amuse the ladies -- he could do no more harm now; and taking the Colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially. 'There's not a man in England,' he said, 'that I'd sooner see her married to after to-day. You're a quiet steady young fellow, and you've a good kind heart. As for the money, that's neither here nor there; Lilian won't come to you without a penny, you know. But really, my boy, you can hardly believe what it is to my poor wife and me to see that dog. Why, bless my soul, look at him now! What's the matter with him, eh?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb_58.flac", "original_index": 75}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb.json b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..3d3dfecfe82b4d172466948f1374a7f7210f89bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5957/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4992/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4992", "quotations": [{"text": "'Illustrated Police News,", "start_byte": 137034, "end_byte": 137059, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 131.25499877929687, "cut_end_time": 132.85012377929687, "narration": {"text": " but the distinction implied in this was more than outweighed by the fact that Barnjum's wraith was slowly but surely undermining both my fortune and my reputation.", "cut_start_time": 133.72500732421875, "cut_end_time": 143.42000732421874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "I had to leave the rooms where I had been so comfortable, for my landlady complained that the street was blocked up by a mob of the lowest description from seven till twelve every evening, and she really could not put up with it any longer.\n\nOn inquiry I found that this was owing to Barnjum's ghost getting out upon the roof almost every night after dark, and playing the fool among the chimney-pots, causing me, as its apparent owner, to be indicted five times for committing a common nuisance by obstructing the thoroughfare, and once for collecting an unlawful assembly: I spent all my spare cash in fines.\n\nI believe there were portraits of us both in the <|quote_start|>'Illustrated Police News,'<|quote_end|> but the distinction implied in this was more than outweighed by the fact that Barnjum's wraith was slowly but surely undermining both my fortune and my reputation.\n\nIt followed me one day to one of the underground railway stations, and would get into a compartment with me, which led to a lawsuit that made a nine days' sensation in the legal world. I need only mention the celebrated case of 'The Metropolitan District Railway v. Bunting,' in which the important principle was once for all laid down that a railway company by the terms of its contract is entitled to refuse to carry ghosts, spectres, or any other supernatural baggage, and can moreover exact a heavy penalty from passengers who infringe its bye-laws in this respect.", "narrative_information_pred": {"were": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "'Blow your brains out by all means!", "start_byte": 144409, "end_byte": 144444, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 619.485, "cut_end_time": 621.2100625, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'\n\nThere was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n<|quote_start|>'Blow your brains out by all means!'<|quote_end|> said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "'I don't know what all this nonsense you'r", "start_byte": 144469, "end_byte": 144511, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 622.395029296875, "cut_end_time": 624.320091796875, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'\n\nThere was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; <|quote_start|>'I don't know what all this nonsense you're<|quote_end|> talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'", "narrative_information_pred": {"talking": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "'m not a ghost that I'", "start_byte": 144532, "end_byte": 144554, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 625.5749975585937, "cut_end_time": 626.6201225585937, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'\n\nThere was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I<|quote_start|>'m not a ghost that I'<|quote_end|>m aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity,", "narrative_information_pred": {"m": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "'m alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'", "start_byte": 144567, "end_byte": 144641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 627.255029296875, "cut_end_time": 632.9800917968751, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'\n\nThere was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I<|quote_start|>'m alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance", "narrative_information_pred": {"am": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "'Barnjum -- and alive!", "start_byte": 144643, "end_byte": 144665, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 634.0050268554688, "cut_end_time": 635.5000893554687, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'\n\nThere was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Barnjum -- and alive!'<|quote_end|> I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "relief": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "'If that is so,", "start_byte": 144696, "end_byte": 144711, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 637.5849853515625, "cut_end_time": 638.6600478515625, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "There was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.\n\n'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. <|quote_start|>'If that is so,'<|quote_end|> I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'", "start_byte": 144804, "end_byte": 144899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 645.0149877929688, "cut_end_time": 649.6201127929688, "narration": {"text": " I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner,", "cut_start_time": 638.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 644.4800600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, <|quote_start|>'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said,", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "'what d'ye call that thing?'", "start_byte": 145013, "end_byte": 145041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 658.0950268554687, "cut_end_time": 659.5400268554688, "narration": {"text": "He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then.", "cut_start_time": 650.9950024414063, "cut_end_time": 654.4800649414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "'m alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, <|quote_start|>'what d'ye call that thing?'<|quote_end|>\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "'I call it a beastly nuisance!", "start_byte": 145043, "end_byte": 145073, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 660.5949951171875, "cut_end_time": 662.6600576171875, "narration": {"text": "He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then.", "cut_start_time": 650.9950024414063, "cut_end_time": 654.4800649414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "'m alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'\n\n'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n<|quote_start|>'I call it a beastly nuisance!'<|quote_end|> I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'", "start_byte": 145083, "end_byte": 145195, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 663.5649853515625, "cut_end_time": 670.4201103515625, "narration": {"text": "He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then.", "cut_start_time": 650.9950024414063, "cut_end_time": 654.4800649414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. <|quote_start|>'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'<|quote_end|>\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "'I don't know anything about it,", "start_byte": 145265, "end_byte": 145297, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 676.5950048828125, "cut_end_time": 678.1700048828126, "narration": {"text": " I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '", "cut_start_time": 686.8450268554687, "cut_end_time": 693.9700893554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'\n\nHe did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? <|quote_start|>'I don't know anything about it,'<|quote_end|> he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued,", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'", "start_byte": 145308, "end_byte": 145406, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 678.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 684.13008203125, "narration": {"text": " I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '", "cut_start_time": 686.8450268554687, "cut_end_time": 693.9700893554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, <|quote_start|>'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n'No, I don't", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "'This is ungenerous,", "start_byte": 145408, "end_byte": 145428, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 685.6550219726563, "cut_end_time": 686.8700844726562, "narration": {"text": " I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '", "cut_start_time": 686.8450268554687, "cut_end_time": 693.9700893554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'\n\n'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'This is ungenerous,'<|quote_end|> I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n'No, I don't,' he said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "determined": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,", "start_byte": 145558, "end_byte": 145629, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 695.1950097656251, "cut_end_time": 698.660009765625, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'\n\nWill it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n<|quote_start|>'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,'<|quote_end|> he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n'No, I don't,' he said.\n\nI determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"retorted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "brutally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "'we may take that as admitted.'", "start_byte": 145653, "end_byte": 145684, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 700.2650170898438, "cut_end_time": 702.0300170898438, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "Will it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, <|quote_start|>'we may take that as admitted.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n'No, I don't,' he said.\n\nI determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"retorted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "brutally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'", "start_byte": 145718, "end_byte": 145819, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 704.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 709.9600454101562, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'\n\n'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, <|quote_start|>'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'No, I don't,' he said.\n\nI determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"argued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "'No, I don't,", "start_byte": 145821, "end_byte": 145834, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 710.9149926757813, "cut_end_time": 711.9701176757812, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'No, I don't,'<|quote_end|> he said.\n\nI determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,", "start_byte": 145894, "end_byte": 145924, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 717.2750219726563, "cut_end_time": 719.1800844726563, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '\n\n'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'\n\n'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'\n\n'No, I don't,' he said.\n\nI determined to make a last effort to move him. <|quote_start|>'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,'<|quote_end|> I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "earnestly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'", "start_byte": 146937, "end_byte": 147031, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 788.025, "cut_end_time": 794.4600625, "narration": {"text": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.", "cut_start_time": 777.1850195312501, "cut_end_time": 785.32008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'\n\nBut Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.\n\n'Do,' I implored him; <|quote_start|>'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'<|quote_end|>\n\nStill he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was 'Silver Threads among the Gold,' or 'In the Sweet By-and-By' -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.\n\n'You don't deserve it,' he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"implored": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "'Silver Threads among the Gold,", "start_byte": 147156, "end_byte": 147187, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 803.9049877929688, "cut_end_time": 805.7000502929687, "narration": {"text": "Still he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was", "cut_start_time": 795.765029296875, "cut_end_time": 803.8300292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'\n\nBut Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.\n\n'Do,' I implored him; 'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'\n\nStill he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was <|quote_start|>'Silver Threads among the Gold,'<|quote_end|> or 'In the Sweet By-and-By' -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.\n\n'You don't deserve it,' he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'\n\nIt wavered for an instant, and then, to my joy, it suddenly 'gave' all over, and, shrivelling up into a sort of cobweb, was drawn by the draught into the fireplace, and carried up the chimney, and I never saw it again.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "'In the Sweet By-and-By", "start_byte": 147192, "end_byte": 147215, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 805.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 807.4900048828125, "narration": {"text": "Still he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was", "cut_start_time": 795.765029296875, "cut_end_time": 803.8300292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.\n\n'Do,' I implored him; 'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'\n\nStill he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was 'Silver Threads among the Gold,' or <|quote_start|>'In the Sweet By-and-By'<|quote_end|> -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.\n\n'You don't deserve it,' he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'\n\nIt wavered for an instant, and then, to my joy, it suddenly 'gave' all over, and, shrivelling up into a sort of cobweb, was drawn by the draught into the fireplace, and carried up the chimney, and I never saw it again.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "'You don't deserve it,", "start_byte": 147380, "end_byte": 147402, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 819.8549853515625, "cut_end_time": 821.0101103515625, "narration": {"text": "Still he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was", "cut_start_time": 795.765029296875, "cut_end_time": 803.8300292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'\n\nStill he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was 'Silver Threads among the Gold,' or 'In the Sweet By-and-By' -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You don't deserve it,'<|quote_end|> he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'\n\nIt wavered for an instant, and then, to my joy, it suddenly 'gave' all over, and, shrivelling up into a sort of cobweb, was drawn by the draught into the fireplace, and carried up the chimney, and I never saw it again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "'esoteric Buddhist,", "start_byte": 148230, "end_byte": 148249, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 877.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 879.1500454101563, "narration": {"text": "; but esoteric Buddhism requires an exemplary character and years of abstract meditation -- both of which conditions were far beyond Barnjum's attainment.", "cut_start_time": 882.9150146484375, "cut_end_time": 892.1700146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "Barnjum's escape was very simple; he had fallen upon one of the herring-boats in the lake, and the heap of freshly-caught fish lying on the deck had merely broken his fall instead of his neck. As soon as he had recovered from the effects, he was called away from this country upon urgent business, and found himself unable to return for months.\n\nBut to this day the appearance of the wraith is a mystery to me. If Barnjum had been the kind of man to be an <|quote_start|>'esoteric Buddhist,'<|quote_end|> it might be accounted for as an 'astral shape'; but esoteric Buddhism requires an exemplary character and years of abstract meditation -- both of which conditions were far beyond Barnjum's attainment.\n\nThe shape may have been one of those subtle emanations which we are told some people are constantly shedding, like the coats of an onion, and which certain conditions of the atmosphere, and the extreme activity of Barnjum's mind under sudden excitement, possibly contributed to materialise in this particular instance.\n\nOr, perhaps, it was merely a caprice of one of those vagrant Poltergeists, or supernatural buffoons, which took upon itself, very officiously, the duty of avenging my behaviour to Barnjum.", "narrative_information_pred": {"an": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 7}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_09_anstey_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb.json b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..905df80a869e1168d63605a4a88e0c0cb545a866
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5957/4992/blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5957/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4992/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4992", "quotations": [{"text": "'Curse of the Catafalques", "start_byte": 236050, "end_byte": 236075, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 52.77499923706055, "cut_end_time": 54.40006173706055, "narration": {"text": "He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him.", "cut_start_time": 382.65500000000003, "cut_end_time": 386.34000000000003, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "For the fate which the siren had dreaded had come upon her at last; she had loved, and she had paid the penalty for loving, and never more would her wild, sweet voice beguile mortals to their doom.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE CURSE OF THE CATAFALQUES.\n\nI.\n\nUnless I am very much mistaken, until the time when I was subjected to the strange and exceptional experience which I now propose to relate, I had never been brought into close contact with anything of a supernatural description. At least if I ever was, the circumstance can have made no lasting impression upon me, as I am quite unable to recall it. But in the <|quote_start|>'Curse of the Catafalques'<|quote_end|> I was confronted with a horror so weird and so altogether unusual, that I doubt whether I shall ever succeed in wholly forgetting it -- and I know that I have never felt really well since.\n\nIt is difficult for me to tell my story intelligibly without some account of my previous history by way of introduction, although I will to make it as little diffuse as I may.\n\nI had not been a success at home; I was an orphan, and, in my anxiety to please a wealthy uncle upon whom I was practically dependent, I had consented to submit myself to a series of competitive examinations for quite a variety of professions, but in each successive instance I achieved the same disheartening failure. Some explanation of this may, no doubt, be found in the fact that, with a fatal want of forethought, I had entirely omitted to prepare myself by any particular course of study -- which, as I discovered too late, is almost indispensable to success in these intellectual contests.", "narrative_information_pred": {"confronted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "'This will never do,", "start_byte": 238450, "end_byte": 238470, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 224.64500732421874, "cut_end_time": 226.02000732421874, "narration": {"text": "He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him.", "cut_start_time": 382.65500000000003, "cut_end_time": 386.34000000000003, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "In pursuance of my resolution, I booked my passage home by one of the Orient liners from Melbourne to London. About an hour before the ship was to leave her moorings, I went on board and made my way at once to the state-room which I was to share with a fellow passenger, whose acquaintance I then made for the first time.\n\nHe was a tall cadaverous young man of about my own age, and my first view of him was not encouraging, for when I came in, I found him rolling restlessly on the cabin floor, and uttering hollow groans.\n\n<|quote_start|>'This will never do,'<|quote_end|> I said, after I had introduced myself; 'if you're like this now, my good sir, what will you be when we're fairly out at sea? You must husband your resources for that. And why trouble to roll? The ship will do all that for you, if you will only have patience.'\n\nHe explained, somewhat brusquely, that he was suffering from mental agony, not sea-sickness; and by a little pertinacious questioning (for I would not allow myself to be rebuffed) I was soon in possession of the secret which was troubling my companion, whose name, as I also learned, was Augustus McFadden.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "'re fairly out at sea? You must husband your resources for that. And why trouble to roll? The ship will do all that for you, if you will only have patience.'", "start_byte": 238574, "end_byte": 238731, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 232.17499694824218, "cut_end_time": 241.46012194824218, "narration": {"text": "He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him.", "cut_start_time": 382.65500000000003, "cut_end_time": 386.34000000000003, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "In pursuance of my resolution, I booked my passage home by one of the Orient liners from Melbourne to London. About an hour before the ship was to leave her moorings, I went on board and made my way at once to the state-room which I was to share with a fellow passenger, whose acquaintance I then made for the first time.\n\nHe was a tall cadaverous young man of about my own age, and my first view of him was not encouraging, for when I came in, I found him rolling restlessly on the cabin floor, and uttering hollow groans.\n\n'This will never do,' I said, after I had introduced myself; 'if you're like this now, my good sir, what will you be when we<|quote_start|>'re fairly out at sea? You must husband your resources for that. And why trouble to roll? The ship will do all that for you, if you will only have patience.'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe explained, somewhat brusquely, that he was suffering from mental agony, not sea-sickness; and by a little pertinacious questioning (for I would not allow myself to be rebuffed) I was soon in possession of the secret which was troubling my companion, whose name, as I also learned, was Augustus McFadden.\n\nIt seemed that his parents had emigrated before his birth, and he had lived all his life in the Colony, where he was contented and fairly prosperous -- when an eccentric old aunt of his over in England happened to die.", "narrative_information_pred": {"would": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "'I heard of it first,", "start_byte": 239846, "end_byte": 239867, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 318.93498657226564, "cut_end_time": 320.26011157226566, "narration": {"text": "He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him.", "cut_start_time": 382.65500000000003, "cut_end_time": 386.34000000000003, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "She left McFadden himself nothing, having given by her will the bulk of her property to the only daughter of a baronet of ancient family, in whom she took a strong interest. But the will was not without its effect upon her existence, for it expressly mentioned the desire of the testatrix that the baronet should receive her nephew Augustus if he presented himself within a certain time, and should afford him every facility for proving his fitness for acceptance as a suitor. The alliance was merely recommended, however, not enjoined, and the gift was unfettered by any conditions.\n\n<|quote_start|>'I heard of it first,'<|quote_end|> said McFadden, 'from Chlorine's father (Chlorine is her name, you know). Sir Paul Catafalque wrote to me, informing me of the mention of my name in my aunt's will, enclosing his daughter's photograph, and formally inviting me to come over and do my best, if my affections were not pre-engaged, to carry out the last wishes of the departed. He added that I might expect to receive shortly a packet from my aunt's executors which would explain matters fully, and in which I should find certain directions for my guidance. The photograph decided me; it was so eminently pleasing that I felt at once that my poor aunt's wishes must be sacred to me. I could not wait for the packet to arrive, and so I wrote at once to Sir Paul accepting the invitation. Yes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "'miserable wretch that I am, I pledged my honour to present myself as a suitor, and now -- now -- here I am, actually embarked upon the desperate errand!'", "start_byte": 240669, "end_byte": 240823, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 371.30501220703127, "cut_end_time": 381.37001220703127, "narration": {"text": "He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him.", "cut_start_time": 382.65500000000003, "cut_end_time": 386.34000000000003, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "'from Chlorine's father (Chlorine is her name, you know). Sir Paul Catafalque wrote to me, informing me of the mention of my name in my aunt's will, enclosing his daughter's photograph, and formally inviting me to come over and do my best, if my affections were not pre-engaged, to carry out the last wishes of the departed. He added that I might expect to receive shortly a packet from my aunt's executors which would explain matters fully, and in which I should find certain directions for my guidance. The photograph decided me; it was so eminently pleasing that I felt at once that my poor aunt's wishes must be sacred to me. I could not wait for the packet to arrive, and so I wrote at once to Sir Paul accepting the invitation. Yes,' he added, with another of the hollow groans, <|quote_start|>'miserable wretch that I am, I pledged my honour to present myself as a suitor, and now -- now -- here I am, actually embarked upon the desperate errand!'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him. 'Really,' I said, 'I think in your place, with an excellent chance -- for I presume the lady's heart is also disengaged -- with an excellent chance of winning a baronet's daughter with a considerable fortune and a pleasing appearance, I should bear up better.'\n\n'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "'I think in your place, with an excellent chance -- for I presume the lady's heart is also disengaged -- with an excellent chance of winning a baronet's daughter with a considerable fortune and a pleasing appearance, I should bear up better.'", "start_byte": 240910, "end_byte": 241152, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 388.5150085449219, "cut_end_time": 402.7900710449219, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "'from Chlorine's father (Chlorine is her name, you know). Sir Paul Catafalque wrote to me, informing me of the mention of my name in my aunt's will, enclosing his daughter's photograph, and formally inviting me to come over and do my best, if my affections were not pre-engaged, to carry out the last wishes of the departed. He added that I might expect to receive shortly a packet from my aunt's executors which would explain matters fully, and in which I should find certain directions for my guidance. The photograph decided me; it was so eminently pleasing that I felt at once that my poor aunt's wishes must be sacred to me. I could not wait for the packet to arrive, and so I wrote at once to Sir Paul accepting the invitation. Yes,' he added, with another of the hollow groans, 'miserable wretch that I am, I pledged my honour to present myself as a suitor, and now -- now -- here I am, actually embarked upon the desperate errand!'\n\nHe seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him. 'Really,' I said, <|quote_start|>'I think in your place, with an excellent chance -- for I presume the lady's heart is also disengaged -- with an excellent chance of winning a baronet's daughter with a considerable fortune and a pleasing appearance, I should bear up better.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?", "start_byte": 241619, "end_byte": 241676, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.53501098632813, "cut_end_time": 441.86007348632813, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?'<|quote_end|> I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'\n\n'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'\n\n'Perhaps she would,' I said.\n\n'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'", "start_byte": 241687, "end_byte": 241834, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.8750146484375, "cut_end_time": 449.8400771484375, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'\n\n'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. <|quote_start|>'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'\n\n'Perhaps she would,' I said.\n\n'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'", "start_byte": 241859, "end_byte": 242079, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 452.5750024414063, "cut_end_time": 465.2800024414063, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'\n\n'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'\n\n'Impossible,' he said; <|quote_start|>'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Perhaps she would,' I said.\n\n'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'\n\n'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "'Perhaps she would,", "start_byte": 242081, "end_byte": 242100, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 466.6549951171875, "cut_end_time": 467.72012011718755, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'\n\n'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Perhaps she would,'<|quote_end|> I said.\n\n'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'\n\n'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'", "start_byte": 242111, "end_byte": 242368, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 469.17498779296875, "cut_end_time": 485.95011279296875, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'\n\n'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'\n\n'Perhaps she would,' I said.\n\n<|quote_start|>'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,", "start_byte": 242386, "end_byte": 242580, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 489.03498779296876, "cut_end_time": 500.25011279296876, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'\n\n'Perhaps she would,' I said.\n\n'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'\n\n'Well,' I said, <|quote_start|>'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,'<|quote_end|> I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'\n\n'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'", "start_byte": 242675, "end_byte": 242789, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 506.16500976562503, "cut_end_time": 512.210009765625, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'\n\n'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): <|quote_start|>'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'\n\n'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "'I never intended to go as far as that,", "start_byte": 242791, "end_byte": 242830, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 514.06498046875, "cut_end_time": 516.4401054687501, "narration": {"text": " I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature):", "cut_start_time": 500.38501220703125, "cut_end_time": 505.39007470703126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'I never intended to go as far as that,'<|quote_end|> he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'\n\n'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "pettishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'", "start_byte": 242907, "end_byte": 243162, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 521.7449951171875, "cut_end_time": 535.8900576171875, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'\n\n'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; <|quote_start|>'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'\n\n'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "pettishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'", "start_byte": 243185, "end_byte": 243396, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 538.3750244140625, "cut_end_time": 551.0100869140625, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'\n\n'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'\n\n'Precisely,' I said. <|quote_start|>'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,' he added, with a shudder, 'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,' he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "'Why, to be sure, I might do that!", "start_byte": 243398, "end_byte": 243432, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 552.4750170898437, "cut_end_time": 554.6700170898438, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'\n\n'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'Why, to be sure, I might do that!'<|quote_end|> he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,' he added, with a shudder, 'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,' he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "animation": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,", "start_byte": 243464, "end_byte": 243589, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 556.73501953125, "cut_end_time": 564.98008203125, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'\n\n'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'\n\n'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; <|quote_start|>'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,'<|quote_end|> he added, with a shudder, 'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,' he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shudder": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,", "start_byte": 243617, "end_byte": 243751, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 566.55501953125, "cut_end_time": 579.06008203125, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'\n\n'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,' he added, with a shudder, <|quote_start|>'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,'<|quote_end|> he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,", "start_byte": 244289, "end_byte": 244357, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 618.405029296875, "cut_end_time": 622.140029296875, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,'<|quote_end|> was my very natural rejoinder.\n\n'She will not require strict proof,' he continued eagerly; 'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'\n\nI hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "'She will not require strict proof,", "start_byte": 244391, "end_byte": 244426, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 625.3349877929687, "cut_end_time": 627.2601127929688, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'\n\n'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,' was my very natural rejoinder.\n\n<|quote_start|>'She will not require strict proof,'<|quote_end|> he continued eagerly; 'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'\n\nI hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "eagerly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'", "start_byte": 244450, "end_byte": 244566, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 628.5150244140625, "cut_end_time": 634.6500869140625, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'\n\n'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,' was my very natural rejoinder.\n\n'She will not require strict proof,' he continued eagerly; <|quote_start|>'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'<|quote_end|>\n\nI hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.\n\nWhen we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden, 'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"continued": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "eagerly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'", "start_byte": 244978, "end_byte": 245223, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 664.525, "cut_end_time": 678.76, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'\n\nI hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.\n\nWhen we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden, <|quote_start|>'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'<|quote_end|>\n\n'That won't do at all!' he said irritably; 'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "'That won't do at all!", "start_byte": 245225, "end_byte": 245247, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 679.94498046875, "cut_end_time": 681.1800429687501, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "I hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.\n\nWhen we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden, 'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'\n\n<|quote_start|>'That won't do at all!'<|quote_end|> he said irritably; 'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "irritably": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "'I might work it up into something effective, certainly,", "start_byte": 245796, "end_byte": 245852, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 718.345009765625, "cut_end_time": 721.100009765625, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'\n\n<|quote_start|>'I might work it up into something effective, certainly,'<|quote_end|> I admitted; 'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'\n\nHe gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.", "narrative_information_pred": {"admitted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'", "start_byte": 245866, "end_byte": 246096, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 721.6749926757813, "cut_end_time": 734.6201176757813, "narration": {"text": "When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden,", "cut_start_time": 658.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 663.7400356445313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'\n\n'I might work it up into something effective, certainly,' I admitted; <|quote_start|>'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'<|quote_end|>\n\nHe gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.\n\nAnd then the 'All-ashore' bell rang, and McFadden, as he bade me farewell, took from his pocket a bulky packet. 'You have saved me,' he said. 'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'", "narrative_information_pred": {"admitted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "'You have saved me,", "start_byte": 246433, "end_byte": 246452, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 758.5249731445313, "cut_end_time": 759.7000356445312, "narration": {"text": "During the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.", "cut_start_time": 783.515, "cut_end_time": 790.8900625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'\n\nHe gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.\n\nAnd then the 'All-ashore' bell rang, and McFadden, as he bade me farewell, took from his pocket a bulky packet. <|quote_start|>'You have saved me,'<|quote_end|> he said. 'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'\n\nBefore I could say anything, he had fastened something heavy to the parcel and dropped it through the cabin-light into the sea, after which he went ashore, and I have never seen nor heard of him since.\n\nDuring the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'", "start_byte": 246463, "end_byte": 246599, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 759.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 768.5300219726563, "narration": {"text": "During the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.", "cut_start_time": 783.515, "cut_end_time": 790.8900625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'\n\nHe gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.\n\nAnd then the 'All-ashore' bell rang, and McFadden, as he bade me farewell, took from his pocket a bulky packet. 'You have saved me,' he said. <|quote_start|>'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'<|quote_end|>\n\nBefore I could say anything, he had fastened something heavy to the parcel and dropped it through the cabin-light into the sea, after which he went ashore, and I have never seen nor heard of him since.\n\nDuring the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.\n\nNo man with the instincts of a gentleman can feel any satisfaction at rinding himself on the way to harrow up a poor young lady's feelings by a perfectly fictitious account of the death of a poor-spirited suitor who could selfishly save his reputation at her expense.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/5957.blackpoodle_14_anstey_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 37}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5957/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/5957/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a2d91ac25594ef839c623881a385394d0a2e531c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5957/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3531 @@
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+THE BLACK POODLE &c.
+
+[Illustration: 'IT'S MY BINGO, FOR ALL THAT!']
+
+THE BLACK POODLE
+
+AND OTHER TALES
+
+BY
+
+F. ANSTEY
+
+AUTHOR OF 'VICE VERSÂ' ETC.
+
+NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
+
+72 FIFTH AVENUE. 1896.
+
+PREFACE.
+
+The Author begs to state that the stories which are collected in this volume made their first appearance in 'Belgravia,' the 'Cornhill Magazine,' the 'Graphic,' 'Longman's Magazine,' 'Mirth,' and 'Temple Bar,' respectively, and he takes this opportunity of expressing his thanks to those Editors to whose courtesy he is indebted for permission to reprint them.
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+PAGE THE BLACK POODLE 1
+
+THE STORY OF A SUGAR PRINCE 46
+
+THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON 69
+
+THE WRAITH OF BARNJUM 93
+
+A TOY TRAGEDY 115
+
+AN UNDERGRADUATE'S AUNT 149
+
+THE SIREN 168
+
+THE CURSE OF THE CATAFALQUES 182
+
+A FAREWELL APPEARANCE 232
+
+ACCOMPANIED ON THE FLUTE 256
+
+THE BLACK POODLE.
+
+[Illustration: I]
+
+I have set myself the task of relating in the course of this story, without suppressing or altering a single detail, the most painful and humiliating episode in my life.
+
+I do this, not because it will give me the least pleasure, but simply because it affords me an opportunity of extenuating myself which has hitherto been wholly denied to me.
+
+As a general rule I am quite aware that to publish a lengthy explanation of one's conduct in any questionable transaction is not the best means of recovering a lost reputation; but in my own case there is one to whom I shall never more be permitted to justify myself by word of mouth -- even if I found myself able to attempt it. And as she could not possibly think worse of me than she does at present, I write this, knowing it can do me no harm, and faintly hoping that it may come to her notice and suggest a doubt whether I am quite so unscrupulous a villain, so consummate a hypocrite, as I have been forced to appear in her eyes.
+
+The bare chance of such a result makes me perfectly indifferent to all else: I cheerfully expose to the derision of the whole reading world the story of my weakness and my shame, since by doing so I may possibly rehabilitate myself somewhat in the good opinion of one person.
+
+Having said so much, I will begin my confession without further delay: -- 
+
+My name is Algernon Weatherhead, and I may add that I am in one of the Government departments; that I am an only son, and live at home with my mother.
+
+We had had a house at Hammersmith until just before the period covered by this history, when, our lease expiring, my mother decided that my health required country air at the close of the day, and so we took a 'desirable villa residence' on one of the many new building estates which have lately sprung up in such profusion in the home counties.
+
+We have called it 'Wistaria Villa.' It is a pretty little place, the last of a row of detached villas, each with its tiny rustic carriage gate and gravel sweep in front, and lawn enough for a tennis court behind, which lines the road leading over the hill to the railway station.
+
+I could certainly have wished that our landlord, shortly after giving us the agreement, could have found some other place to hang himself in than one of our attics, for the consequence was that a housemaid left us in violent hysterics about every two months, having learnt the tragedy from the tradespeople, and naturally 'seen a somethink' immediately afterwards.
+
+Still it is a pleasant house, and I can now almost forgive the landlord for what I shall always consider an act of gross selfishness on his part.
+
+In the country, even so near town, a next-door neighbour is something more than a mere numeral; he is a possible acquaintance, who will at least consider a new-comer as worth the experiment of a call. I soon knew that 'Shuturgarden,' the next house to our own, was occupied by a Colonel Currie, a retired Indian officer; and often, as across the low boundary wall I caught a glimpse of a graceful girlish figure flitting about amongst the rose-bushes in the neighbouring garden, I would lose myself in pleasant anticipations of a time not far distant when the wall which separated us would be (metaphorically) levelled.
+
+I remember -- ah, how vividly! -- the thrill of excitement with which I heard from my mother on returning from town one evening that the Curries had called, and seemed disposed to be all that was neighbourly and kind.
+
+I remember, too, the Sunday afternoon on which I returned their call -- alone, as my mother had already done so during the week. I was standing on the steps of the Colonel's villa waiting for the door to open when I was startled by a furious snarling and yapping behind, and, looking round, discovered a large poodle in the act of making for my legs.
+
+He was a coal-black poodle, with half of his right ear gone, and absurd little thick moustaches at the end of his nose; he was shaved in the sham-lion fashion, which is considered, for some mysterious reason, to improve a poodle, but the barber had left sundry little tufts of hair which studded his haunches capriciously.
+
+I could not help being reminded, as I looked at him, of another black poodle which Faust entertained for a short time, with unhappy results, and I thought that a very moderate degree of incantation would be enough to bring the fiend out of this brute.
+
+He made me intensely uncomfortable, for I am of a slightly nervous temperament, with a constitutional horror of dogs and a liability to attacks of diffidence on performing the ordinary social rites under the most favourable conditions, and certainly the consciousness that a strange and apparently savage dog was engaged in worrying the heels of my boots was the reverse of reassuring.
+
+The Currie family received me with all possible kindness: 'So charmed to make your acquaintance, Mr. Weatherhead,' said Mrs. Currie, as I shook hands. 'I see,' she added pleasantly, 'you've brought the doggie in with you.' As a matter of fact, I had brought the doggie in at the ends of my coat-tails, but it was evidently no unusual occurrence for visitors to appear in this undignified manner, for she detached him quite as a matter of course, and, as soon as I was sufficiently collected, we fell into conversation.
+
+I discovered that the Colonel and his wife were childless, and the slender willowy figure I had seen across the garden wall was that of Lilian Roseblade, their niece and adopted daughter. She came into the room shortly afterwards, and I felt, as I went through the form of an introduction, that her sweet fresh face, shaded by soft masses of dusky brown hair, more than justified all the dreamy hopes and fancies with which I had looked forward to that moment.
+
+She talked to me in a pretty, confidential, appealing way, which I have heard her dearest friends censure as childish and affected, but I thought then that her manner had an indescribable charm and fascination about it, and the memory of it makes my heart ache now with a pang that is not all pain.
+
+Even before the Colonel made his appearance I had begun to see that my enemy, the poodle, occupied an exceptional position in that household. It was abundantly clear by the time I took my leave.
+
+He seemed to be the centre of their domestic system, and even lovely Lilian revolved contentedly around him as a kind of satellite; he could do no wrong in his owner's eyes, his prejudices (and he was a narrow-minded animal) were rigorously respected, and all domestic arrangements were made with a primary view to his convenience.
+
+I may be wrong, but I cannot think that it is wise to put any poodle upon such a pedestal as that. How this one in particular, as ordinary a quadruped as ever breathed, had contrived to impose thus upon his infatuated proprietors, I never could understand, but so it was -- he even engrossed the chief part of the conversation, which after any lull seemed to veer round to him by a sort of natural law.
+
+I had to endure a long biographical sketch of him -- what a Society paper would call an 'anecdotal photo' -- and each fresh anecdote seemed to me to exhibit the depraved malignity of the beast in a more glaring light, and render the doting admiration of the family more astounding than ever.
+
+'Did you tell Mr. Weatherhead, Lily, about Bingo' (Bingo was the poodle's preposterous name) 'and Tacks? No? Oh, I must tell him that -- it'll make him laugh. Tacks is our gardener down in the village (d'ye know Tacks?). Well, Tacks was up here the other day, nailing up some trellis-work at the top of a ladder, and all the time there was Master Bingo sitting quietly at the foot of it looking on, wouldn't leave it on any account. Tacks said he was quite company for him. Well, at last, when Tacks had finished and was coming down, what do you think that rascal there did? Just sneaked quietly up behind and nipped him in both calves and ran off. Been looking out for that the whole time! Ha, ha! -- deep that, eh?'
+
+I agreed with an inward shudder that it was very deep, thinking privately that, if this was a specimen of Bingo's usual treatment of the natives, it would be odd if he did not find himself deeper still before -- probably just before -- he died.
+
+'Poor faithful old doggie!' murmured Mrs. Currie; 'he thought Tacks was a nasty burglar, didn't he? he wasn't going to see Master robbed, was he?'
+
+'Capital house-dog, sir,' struck in the Colonel. 'Gad, I shall never forget how he made poor Heavisides run for it the other day! Ever met Heavisides of the Bombay Fusiliers? Well, Heavisides was staying here, and the dog met him one morning as he was coming down from the bath-room. Didn't recognise him in "pyjamas" and a dressing-gown, of course, and made at him. He kept poor old Heavisides outside the landing window on the top of the cistern for a quarter of an hour, till I had to come and raise the siege!'
+
+Such were the stories of that abandoned dog's blunderheaded ferocity to which I was forced to listen, while all the time the brute sat opposite me on the hearthrug, blinking at me from under his shaggy mane with his evil bleared eyes, and deliberating where he would have me when I rose to go.
+
+This was the beginning of an intimacy which soon displaced all ceremony. It was very pleasant to go in there after dinner, even to sit with the Colonel over his claret and hear more stories about Bingo, for afterwards I could go into the pretty drawing-room and take my tea from Lilian's hands, and listen while she played Schubert to us in the summer twilight.
+
+The poodle was always in the way, to be sure, but even his ugly black head seemed to lose some of its ugliness and ferocity when Lilian laid her pretty hand on it.
+
+On the whole I think that the Currie family were well disposed towards me; the Colonel considering me as a harmless specimen of the average eligible young man -- which I certainly was -- and Mrs. Currie showing me favour for my mother's sake, for whom she had taken a strong liking.
+
+As for Lilian, I believed I saw that she soon suspected the state of my feelings towards her and was not displeased by it. I looked forward with some hopefulness to a day when I could declare myself with no fear of a repulse.
+
+But it was a serious obstacle in my path that I could not secure Bingo's good opinion on any terms. The family would often lament this pathetically themselves. 'You see,' Mrs. Currie would observe in apology, 'Bingo is a dog that does not attach himself easily to strangers' -- though for that matter I thought he was unpleasantly ready to attach himself to me.
+
+I did try hard to conciliate him. I brought him propitiatory buns -- which was weak and ineffectual, as he ate them with avidity, and hated me as bitterly as ever, for he had conceived from the first a profound contempt for me and a distrust which no blandishments of mine could remove. Looking back now, I am inclined to think it was a prophetic instinct that warned him of what was to come upon him through my instrumentality.
+
+Only his approbation was wanting to establish for me a firm footing with the Curries, and perhaps determine Lilian's wavering heart in my direction; but, though I wooed that inflexible poodle with an assiduity I blush to remember, he remained obstinately firm.
+
+Still, day by day, Lilian's treatment of me was more encouraging; day by day I gained in the esteem of her uncle and aunt; I began to hope that soon I should be able to disregard canine influence altogether.
+
+Now there was one inconvenience about our villa (besides its flavour of suicide) which it is necessary to mention here. By common consent all the cats of the neighbourhood had selected our garden for their evening reunions. I fancy that a tortoiseshell kitchen cat of ours must have been a sort of leader of local feline society -- I know she was 'at home,' with music and recitations, on most evenings.
+
+My poor mother found this interfered with her after-dinner nap, and no wonder, for if a cohort of ghosts had been 'shrieking and squealing,' as Calpurnia puts it, in our back garden, or it had been fitted up as a crèche for a nursery of goblin infants in the agonies of teething, the noise could not possibly have been more unearthly.
+
+We sought for some means of getting rid of the nuisance: there was poison of course, but we thought it would have an invidious appearance, and even lead to legal difficulties, if each dawn were to discover an assortment of cats expiring in hideous convulsions in various parts of the same garden.
+
+Firearms, too, were open to objection, and would scarcely assist my mother's slumbers, so for some time we were at a loss for a remedy. At last, one day, walking down the Strand, I chanced to see (in an evil hour) what struck me as the very thing -- it was an air-gun of superior construction displayed in a gunsmith's window. I went in at once, purchased it, and took it home in triumph; it would be noiseless, and would reduce the local average of cats without scandal -- one or two examples, and feline fashion would soon migrate to a more secluded spot.
+
+I lost no time in putting this to the proof. That same evening I lay in wait after dusk at the study window, protecting my mother's repose. As soon as I heard the long-drawn wail, the preliminary sputter, and the wild stampede that followed, I let fly in the direction of the sound. I suppose I must have something of the national sporting instinct in me, for my blood was tingling with excitement; but the feline constitution assimilates lead without serious inconvenience, and I began to fear that no trophy would remain to bear witness to my marksmanship.
+
+But all at once I made out a dark indistinct form slinking in from behind the bushes. I waited till it crossed a belt of light which streamed from the back kitchen below me, and then I took careful aim and pulled the trigger.
+
+This time at least I had not failed -- there was a smothered yell, a rustle -- and then silence again. I ran out with the calm pride of a successful revenge to bring in the body of my victim, and I found underneath a laurel, no predatory tom-cat, but (as the discerning reader will no doubt have foreseen long since) the quivering carcase of the Colonel's black poodle!
+
+I intend to set down here the exact unvarnished truth, and I confess that at first, when I knew what I had done, I was not sorry. I was quite innocent of any intention of doing it, but I felt no regret. I even laughed -- madman that I was -- at the thought that there was the end of Bingo at all events; that impediment was removed, my weary task of conciliation was over for ever!
+
+But soon the reaction came; I realised the tremendous nature of my deed, and shuddered. I had done that which might banish me from Lilian's side for ever! All unwittingly I had slaughtered a kind of sacred beast, the animal around which the Currie household had wreathed their choicest affections! How was I to break it to them? Should I send Bingo in with a card tied to his neck and my regrets and compliments? That was too much like a present of game. Ought I not to carry him in myself? I would wreathe him in the best crape, I would put on black for him -- the Curries would hardly consider a taper and a white sheet, or sackcloth and ashes, an excessive form of atonement -- but I could not grovel to quite such an abject extent.
+
+I wondered what the Colonel would say. Simple and hearty as a general rule, he had a hot temper on occasions, and it made me ill as I thought, would he and, worse still, would Lilian believe it was really an accident? They knew what an interest I had in silencing the deceased poodle -- would they believe the simple truth?
+
+I vowed that they should believe me. My genuine remorse and the absence of all concealment on my part would speak powerfully for me. I would choose a favourable time for my confession; that very evening I would tell all.
+
+Still I shrank from the duty before me, and as I knelt down sorrowfully by the dead form and respectfully composed his stiffening limbs, I thought that it was unjust of Fate to place a well-meaning man, whose nerves were not of iron, in such a position.
+
+Then, to my horror, I heard a well-known ringing tramp on the road outside, and smelt the peculiar fragrance of a Burmese cheroot. It was the Colonel himself, who had been taking out the doomed Bingo for his usual evening run.
+
+I don't know how it was exactly, but a sudden panic came over me. I held my breath, and tried to crouch down unseen behind the laurels; but he had seen me, and came over at once to speak to me across the hedge.
+
+He stood there, not two yards from his favourite's body! Fortunately it was unusually dark that evening.
+
+'Ha, there you are, eh?' he began heartily; 'don't rise, my boy, don't rise.' I was trying to put myself in front of the poodle, and did not rise -- at least, only my hair did.
+
+'You're out late, ain't you?' he went on; 'laying out your garden, hey?'
+
+I could not tell him that I was laying out his poodle! My voice shook as, with a guilty confusion that was veiled by the dusk, I said it was a fine evening -- which it was not.
+
+'Cloudy, sir,' said the Colonel, 'cloudy -- rain before morning, I think. By the way, have you seen anything of my Bingo in here?'
+
+This was the turning point. What I ought to have done was to say mournfully, 'Yes, I'm sorry to say I've had a most unfortunate accident with him -- here he is -- the fact is, I'm afraid I've shot him!'
+
+But I couldn't. I could have told him at my own time, in a prepared form of words -- but not then. I felt I must use all my wits to gain time and fence with the questions.
+
+'Why,' I said with a leaden airiness, 'he hasn't given you the slip, has he?'
+
+'Never did such a thing in his life!' said the Colonel, warmly; 'he rushed off after a rat or a frog or something a few minutes ago, and as I stopped to light another cheroot I lost sight of him. I thought I saw him slip in under your gate, but I've been calling him from the front there and he won't come out.'
+
+No, and he never would come out any more. But the Colonel must not be told that just yet. I temporised again: 'If,' I said unsteadily, 'if he had slipped in under the gate, I should have seen him. Perhaps he took it into his head to run home?'
+
+'Oh, I shall find him on the doorstep, I expect, the knowing old scamp! Why, what d'ye think was the last thing he did, now?'
+
+I could have given him the very latest intelligence; but I dared not. However, it was altogether too ghastly to kneel there and laugh at anecdotes of Bingo told across Bingo's dead body; I could not stand that! 'Listen,' I said suddenly, 'wasn't that his bark? There again; it seems to come from the front of your house, don't you think?'
+
+'Well,' said the Colonel, 'I'll go and fasten him up before he's off again. How your teeth are chattering -- you've caught a chill, man -- go indoors at once and, if you feel equal to it, look in half an hour later about grog time, and I'll tell you all about it. Compliments to your mother. Don't forget -- about grog time!' I had got rid of him at last, and I wiped my forehead, gasping with relief. I would go round in half an hour, and then I should be prepared to make my melancholy announcement. For, even then, I never thought of any other course, until suddenly it flashed upon me with terrible clearness that my miserable shuffling by the hedge had made it impossible to tell the truth! I had not told a direct lie, to be sure, but then I had given the Colonel the impression that I had denied having seen the dog. Many people can appease their consciences by reflecting that, whatever may be the effect their words produce, they did contrive to steer clear of a downright lie. I never quite knew where the distinction lay, morally, but there is that feeling -- I have it myself.
+
+Unfortunately, prevarication has this drawback, that, if ever the truth comes to light, the prevaricator is in just the same case as if he had lied to the most shameless extent, and for a man to point out that the words he used contained no absolute falsehood will seldom restore confidence.
+
+I might of course still tell the Colonel of my misfortune, and leave him to infer that it had happened after our interview, but the poodle was fast becoming cold and stiff, and they would most probably suspect the real time of the occurrence.
+
+And then Lilian would hear that I had told a string of falsehoods to her uncle over the dead body of their idolised Bingo -- an act, no doubt, of abominable desecration, of unspeakable profanity in her eyes!
+
+If it would have been difficult before to prevail on her to accept a bloodstained hand, it would be impossible after that. No, I had burnt my ships, I was cut off for ever from the straightforward course; that one moment of indecision had decided my conduct in spite of me -- I must go on with it now and keep up the deception at all hazards.
+
+It was bitter. I had always tried to preserve as many of the moral principles which had been instilled into me as can be conveniently retained in this grasping world, and it had been my pride that, roughly speaking, I had never been guilty of an unmistakable falsehood.
+
+But henceforth, if I meant to win Lilian, that boast must be relinquished for ever! I should have to lie now with all my might, without limit or scruple, to dissemble incessantly, and 'wear a mask,' as the poet Bunn beautifully expressed it long ago, 'over my hollow heart.' I felt all this keenly -- I did not think it was right -- but what was I to do?
+
+After thinking all this out very carefully, I decided that my only course was to bury the poor animal where he fell and say nothing about it. With some vague idea of precaution I first took off the silver collar he wore, and then hastily interred him with a garden-trowel and succeeded in removing all traces of the disaster.
+
+I fancy I felt a certain relief in the knowledge that there would now be no necessity to tell my pitiful story and risk the loss of my neighbours' esteem.
+
+By-and-by, I thought, I would plant a rose-tree over his remains, and some day, as Lilian and I, in the noontide of our domestic bliss, stood before it admiring its creamy luxuriance, I might (perhaps) find courage to confess that the tree owed some of that luxuriance to the long-lost Bingo.
+
+There was a touch of poetry in this idea that lightened my gloom for the moment.
+
+I need scarcely say that I did not go round to Shuturgarden that evening. I was not hardened enough for that yet -- my manner might betray me, and so I very prudently stayed at home.
+
+But that night my sleep was broken by frightful dreams. I was perpetually trying to bury a great gaunt poodle, which would persist in rising up through the damp mould as fast as I covered him up.... Lilian and I were engaged, and we were in church together on Sunday, and the poodle, resisting all attempts to eject him, forbade our banns with sepulchral barks.... It was our wedding-day, and at the critical moment the poodle leaped between us and swallowed the ring.... Or we were at the wedding-breakfast, and Bingo, a grizzly black skeleton with flaming eyes, sat on the cake and would not allow Lilian to cut it. Even the rose-tree fancy was reproduced in a distorted form -- the tree grew, and every blossom contained a miniature Bingo, which barked; and as I woke I was desperately trying to persuade the Colonel that they were ordinary dog-roses.
+
+I went up to the office next day with my gloomy secret gnawing my bosom, and, whatever I did, the spectre of the murdered poodle rose before me. For two days after that I dared not go near the Curries, until at last one evening after dinner I forced myself to call, feeling that it was really not safe to keep away any longer.
+
+My conscience smote me as I went in. I put on an unconscious easy manner, which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they were too much engrossed to notice it.
+
+I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.
+
+'I don't see the dog,' I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.
+
+'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'
+
+'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.
+
+'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'
+
+'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'
+
+'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'
+
+I said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.
+
+'He's not dead!' cried Mrs. Currie. 'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'm sure I should! But I'm certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'
+
+It will be easily understood what torture conversations like these were to me, and how I hated myself as I sympathised and spoke encouraging words concerning the dog's recovery, when I knew all the time he was lying hid under my garden mould. But I took it as a part of my punishment, and bore it all uncomplainingly; practice even made me an adept in the art of consolation -- I believe I really was a great comfort to them.
+
+I had hoped that they would soon get over the first bitterness of their loss, and that Bingo would be first replaced and then forgotten in the usual way; but there seemed no signs of this coming to pass.
+
+The poor Colonel was too plainly fretting himself ill about it; he went pottering about forlornly -- advertising, searching, and seeing people, but all of course to no purpose, and it told upon him. He was more like a man whose only son and heir had been stolen, than an Anglo-Indian officer who had lost a poodle. I had to affect the liveliest interest in all his inquiries and expeditions, and to listen to, and echo, the most extravagant eulogies of the departed, and the wear and tear of so much duplicity made me at last almost as ill as the Colonel himself.
+
+I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.
+
+'Unless what?' I asked. 'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'
+
+'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'
+
+I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.
+
+'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'
+
+I was relieved to find it was no worse than this.
+
+'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'
+
+'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'
+
+'What do you mean, Lilian?' I said hoarsely. 'How could I find him?' Again I feared the worst.
+
+'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'
+
+Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.
+
+He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.
+
+'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'
+
+'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.
+
+'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'
+
+'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'
+
+It was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.
+
+I left her with a heavy heart. Unless I proved my worth by bringing back Bingo within a very short time, Travers would probably have everything his own way. And Bingo was dead!
+
+However, I took heart. I thought that perhaps if I could succeed by my earnest efforts in persuading Lilian that I really was doing all in my power to recover the poodle, she might relent in time, and dispense with his actual production.
+
+So, partly with this object, and partly to appease the remorse which now revived and stung me deeper than before, I undertook long and weary pilgrimages after office hours. I spent many pounds in advertisements; I interviewed dogs of every size, colour, and breed, and of course I took care to keep Lilian informed of each successive failure. But still her heart was not touched; she was firm. If I went on like that, she told me, I was certain to find Bingo one day -- then, but not before, would her doubts be set at rest.
+
+I was walking one day through the somewhat squalid district which lies between Bow Street and High Holborn, when I saw, in a small theatrical costumier's window, a handbill stating that a black poodle had 'followed a gentleman' on a certain date, and if not claimed and the finder remunerated before a stated time, would be sold to pay expenses.
+
+I went in and got a copy of the bill to show Lilian, and although by that time I scarcely dared to look a poodle in the face, I thought I would go to the address given and see the animal, simply to be able to tell Lilian I had done so.
+
+The gentleman whom the dog had very unaccountably followed was a certain Mr. William Blagg, who kept a little shop near Endell Street, and called himself a bird-fancier, though I should scarcely have credited him with the necessary imagination. He was an evil-browed ruffian in a fur cap, with a broad broken nose and little shifty red eyes, and after I had told him what I wanted, he took me through a horrible little den, stacked with piles of wooden, wire, and wicker prisons, each quivering with restless, twittering life, and then out into a back yard, in which were two or three rotten old kennels and tubs. 'That there's him,' he said, jerking his thumb to the farthest tub; 'follered me all the way 'ome from Kinsington Gardings, he did. Kim out, will yer?'
+
+And out of the tub there crawled slowly, with a snuffling whimper and a rattling of its chain, the identical dog I had slain a few evenings before!
+
+At least, so I thought for a moment, and felt as if I had seen a spectre; the resemblance was so exact -- in size, in every detail, even to the little clumps of hair about the hind parts, even to the lop of half an ear, this dog might have been the 'doppel-gänger' of the deceased Bingo. I suppose, after all, one black poodle is very like any other black poodle of the same size, but the likeness startled me.
+
+I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.
+
+Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'
+
+'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.
+
+'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'
+
+He gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'
+
+'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'
+
+He gave me a curious leer. 'No offence, you know, guv'nor,' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'
+
+'Well,' I said, 'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'
+
+He took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog. 'Ah,' he said, as he put it in his pocket, 'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordin', you see.'
+
+I wanted to get the hateful business over as soon as possible. I did not care what I paid -- Lilian was worth all the expense! I said I had no doubt myself as to the real ownership of the animal, but I would give him any sum in reason, and would remove the dog at once.
+
+And so we settled it. I paid him an extortionate sum, and came away with a duplicate poodle, a canine counterfeit which I hoped to pass off at Shuturgarden as the long-lost Bingo.
+
+I know it was wrong -- it even came unpleasantly near dog-stealing -- but I was a desperate man. I saw Lilian gradually slipping away from me, I knew that nothing short of this could ever recall her, I was sorely tempted, I had gone far on the same road already, it was the old story of being hung for a sheep. And so I fell.
+
+Surely some who read this will be generous enough to consider the peculiar state of the case, and mingle a little pity with their contempt.
+
+I was dining in town that evening and took my purchase home by a late train; his demeanour was grave and intensely respectable; he was not the animal to commit himself by any flagrant indiscretion -- he was gentle and tractable, too, and in all respects an agreeable contrast in character to the original. Still, it may have been the after-dinner workings of conscience, but I could not help fancying that I saw a certain look in the creature's eyes, as if he were aware that he was required to connive at a fraud, and rather resented it.
+
+If he would only be good enough to back me up! Fortunately, however, he was such a perfect facsimile of the outward Bingo, that the risk of detection was really inconsiderable.
+
+When I got him home, I put Bingo's silver collar round his neck -- congratulating myself on my forethought in preserving it, and took him in to see my mother. She accepted him as what he seemed, without the slightest misgiving; but this, though it encouraged me to go on, was not decisive, the spurious poodle would have to encounter the scrutiny of those who knew every tuft on the genuine animal's body!
+
+Nothing would have induced me to undergo such an ordeal as that of personally restoring him to the Curries. We gave him supper, and tied him up on the lawn, where he howled dolefully all night, and buried bones.
+
+The next morning I wrote a note to Mrs. Currie, expressing my pleasure at being able to restore the lost one, and another to Lilian, containing only the words, 'Will you believe now that I am sincere?' Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I had an anxious walk home from the station that evening; I went round by the longer way, trembling the whole time lest I should meet any of the Currie household, to which I felt myself entirely unequal just then. I could not rest until I knew whether my fraud had succeeded, or if the poodle to which I had entrusted my fate had basely betrayed me; but my suspense was happily ended as soon as I entered my mother's room. 'You can't think how delighted those poor Curries were to see Bingo again,'she said at once; 'and they said such charming things about you, Algy -- Lilian, particularly -- quite affected she seemed, poor child! And they wanted you to go round and dine there and be thanked to-night, but at last I persuaded them to come to us instead. And they're going to bring the dog to make friends. Oh, and I met Frank Travers; he's back from circuit again now, so I asked him in too, to meet them!'
+
+I drew a deep breath of relief. I had played a desperate game -- but I had won! I could have wished, to be sure, that my mother had not thought of bringing in Travers on that of all evenings -- but I hoped that I could defy him after this.
+
+The Colonel and his people were the first to arrive; he and his wife being so effusively grateful that they made me very uncomfortable indeed; Lilian met me with downcast eyes, and the faintest possible blush, but she said nothing just then. Five minutes afterwards, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly, 'Mr. Weatherhead -- Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?' And I replied that, upon the whole, I could.
+
+We were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.
+
+'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,' said the Colonel. 'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'
+
+I saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.
+
+'You can't think,' I heard Mrs. Currie telling my mother, 'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'
+
+'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'
+
+'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'
+
+'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'
+
+I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.
+
+'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'
+
+'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'
+
+'If you really won't take any more wine,' I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, 'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.' For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.
+
+I left Travers to amuse the ladies -- he could do no more harm now; and taking the Colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially. 'There's not a man in England,' he said, 'that I'd sooner see her married to after to-day. You're a quiet steady young fellow, and you've a good kind heart. As for the money, that's neither here nor there; Lilian won't come to you without a penny, you know. But really, my boy, you can hardly believe what it is to my poor wife and me to see that dog. Why, bless my soul, look at him now! What's the matter with him, eh?'
+
+To my unutterable horror I saw that that miserable poodle, after begging unnoticed at the tea-table for some time, had retired to an open space before it, where he was now industriously standing on his head.
+
+We gathered round and examined the animal curiously, as he continued to balance himself gravely in his abnormal position. 'Good gracious, John,' cried Mrs. Currie, 'I never saw Bingo do such a thing before in his life!'
+
+'Very odd,' said the Colonel, putting up his glasses; 'never learnt that from me.'
+
+'I tell you what I fancy it is,' I suggested wildly. 'You see, he was always a sensitive, excitable animal, and perhaps the -- the sudden joy of his return has gone to his head -- upset him, you know.'
+
+They seemed disposed to accept this solution, and indeed I believe they would have credited Bingo with every conceivable degree of sensibility; but I felt myself that if this unhappy animal had many more of these accomplishments I was undone, for the original Bingo had never been a dog of parts.
+
+'It's very odd,' said Travers, reflectively, as the dog recovered his proper level, 'but I always thought that it was half the right ear that Bingo had lost?'
+
+'So it is, isn't it?' said the Colonel. 'Left, eh? Well, I thought myself it was the right.'
+
+My heart almost stopped with terror -- I had altogether forgotten that. I hastened to set the point at rest. 'Oh, it was the left,' I said positively; 'I know it because I remember so particularly thinking how odd it was that it should be the left ear, and not the right!' I told myself this should be positively my last lie.
+
+'Why odd?' asked Frank Travers, with his most offensive Socratic manner.
+
+'My dear fellow, I can't tell you,' I said impatiently; 'everything seems odd when you come to think at all about it.'
+
+'Algernon,' said Lilian later on, 'will you tell Aunt Mary and Mr. Travers, and -- and me, how it was you came to find Bingo? Mr. Travers is quite anxious to hear all about it.'
+
+I could not very well refuse; I sat down and told the story, all my own way. I painted Blagg, perhaps, rather bigger and blacker than life, and described an exciting scene, in which I recognised Bingo by his collar in the streets, and claimed and bore him off then and there in spite of all opposition.
+
+I had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing Travers grinding his teeth with envy as I went on, and feeling Lilian's soft, slender hand glide silently into mine as I told my tale in the twilight.
+
+All at once, just as I reached the climax, we heard the poodle barking furiously at the hedge which separated my garden from the road. 'There's a foreign-looking man staring over the hedge,' said Lilian; 'Bingo always did hate foreigners.'
+
+There certainly was a swarthy man there, and, though I had no reason for it then, somehow my heart died within me at the sight of him.
+
+'Don't be alarmed, sir,' cried the Colonel, 'the dog won't bite you -- unless there's a hole in the hedge anywhere.'
+
+The stranger took off his small straw hat with a sweep. 'Ah, I am not afraid,' he said, and his accent proclaimed him a Frenchman, 'he is not enrage at me. May I ask, is it pairmeet to speak wiz Misterre Vezzered?'
+
+I felt I must deal with this person alone, for I feared the worst; and, asking them to excuse me, I went to the hedge and faced the Frenchman with the frightful calm of despair. He was a short, stout little man, with blue cheeks, sparkling black eyes, and a vivacious walnut-coloured countenance; he wore a short black alpaca coat, and a large white cravat with an immense oval malachite brooch in the centre of it, which I mention because I found myself staring mechanically at it during the interview.
+
+'My name is Weatherhead,' I began, with the bearing of a detected pickpocket. 'Can I be of any service to you?'
+
+'Of a great service,' he said emphatically; 'you can restore to me ze poodle vich I see zere!'
+
+Nemesis had called at last in the shape of a rival claimant. I staggered for an instant; then I said, 'Oh, I think you are under a mistake -- that dog is not mine.'
+
+'I know it,' he said; 'zere 'as been leetle mistake, so if ze dog is not to you, you give him back to me, hein?'
+
+'I tell you,' I said, 'that poodle belongs to the gentleman over there.' And I pointed to the Colonel, seeing that it was best now to bring him into the affair without delay.
+
+'You are wrong,' he said doggedly; 'ze poodle is my poodle! And I was direct to you -- it is your name on ze carte!' And he presented me with that fatal card which I had been foolish enough to give to Blagg as a proof of my identity. I saw it all now; the old villain had betrayed me, and to earn a double reward had put the real owner on my track.
+
+I decided to call the Colonel at once, and attempt to brazen it out with the help of his sincere belief in the dog.
+
+'Eh, what's that; what's it all about?' said the Colonel, bustling up, followed at intervals by the others.
+
+The Frenchman raised his hat again. 'I do not vant to make a trouble,' he began, 'but zere is leetle mistake. My word of honour, sare, I see my own poodle in your garden. Ven I appeal to zis gentilman to restore 'im he reffer me to you.'
+
+'You must allow me to know my own dog, sir,' said the Colonel. 'Why, I've had him from a pup. Bingo, old boy, you know your master, don't you?'
+
+But the brute ignored him altogether, and began to leap wildly at the hedge, in frantic efforts to join the Frenchman. It needed no Solomon to decide his ownership!
+
+'I tell you, you 'ave got ze wrong poodle -- it is my own dog, my Azor! He remember me well, you see? I lose him it is three, four days.... I see a nottice zat he is found, and ven I go to ze address zey tell me, "Oh, he is reclaim, he is gone wiz a strangaire who has advertise." Zey show me ze placard, I follow 'ere, and ven I arrive, I see my poodle in ze garden before me!'
+
+'But look here,' said the Colonel, impatiently; 'it's all very well to say that, but how can you prove it? I give you my word that the dog belongs to me! You must prove your claim, eh, Travers?'
+
+'Yes,' said Travers, judicially, 'mere assertion is no proof: it's oath against oath, at present.'
+
+'Attend an instant -- your poodle was he 'ighly train, had he some talents -- a dog viz tricks, eh?'
+
+'No, he's not,' said the Colonel; 'I don't like to see dogs taught to play the fool -- there's none of that nonsense about him, sir!'
+
+'Ah, remark him well, then. Azor, mon chou, danse donc un peu!'
+
+And on the foreigner's whistling a lively air, that infernal poodle rose on his hind legs and danced solemnly about half-way round the garden! We inside followed his movements with dismay. 'Why, dash it all!' cried the disgusted Colonel, 'he's dancing along like a d -- -- d mountebank! But it's my Bingo for all that!'
+
+'You are not convince? You shall see more. Azor, ici! Pour Beesmarck, Azor!' (the poodle barked ferociously). 'Pour Gambetta!' (he wagged his tail and began to leap with joy). 'Meurs pour la Patrie!' -- and the too-accomplished animal rolled over as if killed in battle!
+
+'Where could Bingo have picked up so much French!' cried Lilian, incredulously.
+
+'Or so much French history?' added that serpent Travers.
+
+'Shall I command 'im to jomp, or reverse 'imself?' inquired the obliging Frenchman.
+
+'We've seen that, thank you,' said the Colonel, gloomily. 'Upon my word, I don't know what to think. It can't be that that's not my Bingo after all -- I'll never believe it!'
+
+I tried a last desperate stroke. 'Will you come round to the front?' I said to the Frenchman; 'I'll let you in, and we can discuss the matter quietly.' Then, as we walked back together, I asked him eagerly what he would take to abandon his claims and let the Colonel think the poodle was his after all.
+
+He was furious -- he considered himself insulted; with great emotion he informed me that the dog was the pride of his life (it seems to be the mission of black poodles to serve as domestic comforts of this priceless kind!), that he would not part with him for twice his weight in gold.
+
+'Figure,' he began, as we joined the others, 'zat zis gentilman 'ere 'as offer me money for ze dog! He agrees zat it is to me, you see? Ver well zen, zere is no more to be said!'
+
+'Why, Weatherhead, have you lost faith too, then?' said the Colonel.
+
+I saw that it was no good -- all I wanted now was to get out of it creditably and get rid of the Frenchman. 'I'm sorry to say,' I replied, 'that I'm afraid I've been deceived by the extraordinary likeness. I don't think, on reflection, that that is Bingo!'
+
+'What do you think, Travers?' asked the Colonel.
+
+'Well, since you ask me,' said Travers, with quite unnecessary dryness, 'I never did think so.'
+
+'Nor I,' said the Colonel; 'I thought from the first that was never my Bingo. Why, Bingo would make two of that beast!'
+
+And Lilian and her aunt both protested that they had had their doubts from the first.
+
+'Zen you pairmeet zat I remove 'im?' said the Frenchman.
+
+'Certainly' said the Colonel; and after some apologies on our part for the mistake, he went off in triumph, with the detestable poodle frisking after him.
+
+When he had gone the Colonel laid his hand kindly on my shoulder. 'Don't look so cut up about it, my boy,' he said; 'you did your best -- there was a sort of likeness, to any one who didn't know Bingo as we did.'
+
+Just then the Frenchman again appeared at the hedge. 'A thousand pardons,' he said, 'but I find zis upon my dog -- it is not to me. Suffer me to restore it viz many compliments.'
+
+It was Bingo's collar. Travers took it from his hand and brought it to us.
+
+'This was on the dog when you stopped that fellow, didn't you say?' he asked me.
+
+One more lie -- and I was so-weary of falsehood! 'Y-yes,' I said reluctantly, that was so.'
+
+'Very extraordinary,' said Travers; 'that's the wrong poodle beyond a doubt, but when he's found, he's wearing the right dog's collar! Now how do you account for that?'
+
+'My good fellow,' I said impatiently, 'I'm not in the witness-box. I can't account for it. It -- it's a mere coincidence!'
+
+'But look here, my dear Weatherhead,' argued Travers (whether in good faith or not I never could quite make out), 'don't you see what a tremendously important link it is? Here's a dog who (as I understand the facts) had a silver collar, with his name engraved on it, round his neck at the time he was lost. Here's that identical collar turning up soon afterwards round the neck of a totally different dog! We must follow this up; we must get at the bottom of it somehow! With a clue like this, we're sure to find out, either the dog himself, or what's become of him! Just try to recollect exactly what happened, there's a good fellow. This is just the sort of thing I like!'
+
+It was the sort of thing I did not enjoy at all. 'You must excuse me to-night, Travers,' I said uncomfortably; 'you see, just now it's rather a sore subject for me -- and I'm not feeling very well!' I was grateful just then for a reassuring glance of pity and confidence from Lilian's sweet eyes which revived my drooping spirits for the moment.
+
+'Yes, we'll go into it to-morrow, Travers,' said the Colonel; 'and then -- hullo, why, there's that confounded Frenchman again!'
+
+It was indeed; he came prancing back delicately, with a malicious enjoyment on his wrinkled face. 'Once more I return to apologise,' he said. 'My poodle 'as permit 'imself ze grave indiscretion to make a very big 'ole at ze bottom of ze garden!'
+
+I assured him that it was of no consequence. 'Perhaps,' he replied, looking steadily at me through his keen half-shut eyes, 'you vill not say zat ven you regard ze 'ole. And you others, I spik to you: somtimes von loses a somzing vich is qvite near all ze time. It is ver droll, eh? my vord, ha, ha, ha!' And he ambled off, with an aggressively fiendish laugh that chilled my blood.
+
+'What the dooce did he mean by that, eh?' said the Colonel, blankly.
+
+'Don't know,' said Travers; 'suppose we go and inspect the hole?'
+
+But before that I had contrived to draw near it myself, in deadly fear lest the Frenchman's last words had contained some innuendo which I had not understood.
+
+It was light enough still for me to see something, at the unexpected horror of which I very nearly fainted.
+
+That thrice accursed poodle which I had been insane enough to attempt to foist upon the Colonel must, it seems, have buried his supper the night before very near the spot in which I had laid Bingo, and in his attempts to exhume his bone had brought the remains of my victim to the surface!
+
+There the corpse lay, on the very top of the excavations. Time had not, of course, improved its appearance, which was ghastly in the extreme, but still plainly recognisable by the eye of affection.
+
+'It's a very ordinary hole,' I gasped, putting myself before it and trying to turn them back. 'Nothing in it -- nothing at all!'
+
+'Except one Algernon Weatherhead, Esq., eh?' whispered Travers jocosely in my ear.
+
+'No, but,' persisted the Colonel, advancing, 'look here! Has the dog damaged any of your shrubs?'
+
+'No, no!' I cried piteously, 'quite the reverse. Let's all go indoors now; it's getting so cold!'
+
+'See, there is a shrub or something uprooted!' said the Colonel, still coming nearer that fatal hole. 'Why, hullo, look there! What's that?'
+
+Lilian, who was by his side, gave a slight scream. 'Uncle,' she cried, 'it looks like -- like Bingo!'
+
+The Colonel turned suddenly upon me. 'Do you hear?' he demanded, in a choked voice. 'You hear what she says? Can't you speak out? Is that our Bingo?'
+
+I gave it up at last; I only longed to be allowed to crawl away under something! 'Yes,' I said in a dull whisper, as I sat down heavily on a garden seat, 'yes ... that's Bingo ... misfortune ... shoot him ... quite an accident!'
+
+There was a terrible explosion after that; they saw at last how I had deceived them, and put the very worst construction upon everything. Even now I writhe impotently at times, and my cheeks smart and tingle with humiliation, as I recall that scene -- the Colonel's very plain speaking, Lilian's passionate reproaches and contempt, and her aunt's speechless prostration of disappointment.
+
+I made no attempt to defend myself; I was not perhaps the complete villain they deemed me, but I felt dully that no doubt it all served me perfectly right.
+
+Still I do not think I am under any obligation to put their remarks down in black and white here.
+
+Travers had vanished at the first opportunity -- whether out of delicacy, or the fear of breaking out into unseasonable mirth, I cannot say; and shortly afterwards the others came to where I sat silent with bowed head, and bade me a stern and final farewell.
+
+And then, as the last gleam of Lilian's white dress vanished down the garden path, I laid my head down on the table amongst the coffee-cups and cried like a beaten child.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I got leave as soon as I could and went abroad. The morning after my return I noticed, while shaving, that there was a small square marble tablet placed against the wall of the Colonel's garden. I got my opera-glass and read -- and pleasant reading it was -- the following inscription: -- 
+
+IN AFFECTIONATE MEMORY OF B I N G O, SECRETLY AND CRUELLY PUT TO DEATH, IN COLD BLOOD; BY A NEIGHBOUR AND FRIEND. JUNE, 1881
+
+If this explanation of mine ever reaches my neighbours' eyes, I humbly hope they will have the humanity either to take away or tone down that tablet. They cannot conceive what I suffer, when curious visitors insist, as they do every day, in spelling out the words from our windows, and asking me countless questions about them!
+
+Sometimes I meet the Curries about the village, and, as they pass me with averted heads, I feel myself growing crimson. Travers is almost always with Lilian now. He has given her a dog -- a fox-terrier -- and they take ostentatiously elaborate precautions to keep it out of my garden.
+
+I should like to assure them here that they need not be under any alarm. I have shot one dog.
+
+THE STORY OF A SUGAR PRINCE.
+
+A TALE FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: O]
+
+Of course he may have been really a fairy prince, and I should be sorry to contradict any one who chose to say so. For he was only about three inches high, he had rose-pink cheeks and bright yellow curling locks, he wore a doublet and hose which fitted him perfectly, and a little cap and feather, all of delicately contrasted shades of blue -- and this does seem a fair description of a fairy prince.
+
+But then he was painted -- very cleverly -- but still only painted, on a slab of prepared sugar, and his back was a plain white blank; while the regular fairies all have more than one side to them, and I am obliged to say that I never before happened to come across a real fairy prince who was nothing but paint and sugar.
+
+For all that he may, as I said before, have been a fairy prince, and whether he was or not does not matter in the least -- for he at any rate quite believed he was one.
+
+As yet there had been very little romance or enchantment in his life, which, as far as he could remember, had all been spent in a long shop, full of sweet and subtle scents, where the walls were lined with looking-glass and fitted with shelves on which stood rows of glass jars, containing pastilles and jujubes of every colour, shape, and flavour in the world -- a shop where, in summer, a strange machine for making cooling drinks gurgled and sputtered all day long, and in winter, the large plate-glass windows were filled with boxes made of painted silk from Paris, so charmingly expensive and useless that rich people bought them eagerly to give to one another.
+
+The prince generally lay on one of the counters between two beds of sugar roses and violets in a glass case, on either side of which stood a figure of highly coloured plaster.
+
+One was a major of some unknown regiment; he had an immense head, with goggling eyes and a very red complexion, and this head would unscrew so that he could be filled with comfits, which, though it hurt him fearfully every time this was done, he was proud of, because it always astonished people.
+
+The other figure was an old brown gipsy woman in a red cloak and a striped petticoat, with a head which, although it wouldn't take off, was always nodding and grinning mysteriously from morning to night.
+
+It was to her that the prince (for we shall have to call him 'the prince,' as I don't know his other name -- if he ever had one) owed all his notions of Fairyland and his high birth.
+
+'You let the old gipsy alone for knowing a prince when she sees one,' she would say, nodding at him with encouragement. 'They've kept you out of your rights all this time; but wait a while, and see if one of these clumsy giants that are always bustling in and out doesn't help you; you'll be restored to your kingdom, never fear!'
+
+But the major used to get angry at her prophecies: 'It's all nonsense,' he used to say, 'the boy's no more a prince than I am, and he'll never be noticed by anybody, unless he learns to unscrew his head and hold comfits -- like a soldier and a gentleman!'
+
+However, the prince believed the gipsy, and every morning, as the shutters were taken down, and grey mist, brilliant sunshine, or brown fog stole into the close shop, he wondered whether the day had come which would see his restoration to his kingdom.
+
+And at last the day really came; some one who had been buying sugar violets and roses noticed the prince in the middle of them and bought him too, to his immense delight. 'What did the old gipsy tell you, eh?' said the old woman, wagging her head wisely; 'you see, it has all come true!'
+
+Even the major was convinced now, for, before the prince had been packed up, he whispered to him that if at any time he wanted a commander-in-chief, why, he knew where to send for him. 'Yes, I will remember,' said the prince; 'and you,' he added to the gipsy, 'you shall be my prime minister!' -- for he was so ignorant of politics that he actually thought an old woman could be prime minister.
+
+And then, before he could finish saying good-bye and hearing their congratulations, he was covered with several wrappers of white paper and plunged into complete darkness, which he did not mind at all, he was so happy.
+
+After that he remembered no more until he was unwrapped and placed upright on the top of a dazzling white dome which stood in the very centre of a long plain, where a host of the strangest forms were scattered about in bewildering confusion.
+
+On each side of him tall twisted trunks of sparkling glass and silver sprang high into the air, and from their tops the cool green branches swayed gently down, while round their bases velvet-petalled flowers bloomed in a bed of soft moss.
+
+Farther away, an exquisite temple, made of a sort of delicate gold-coloured crystal, rose out of the crowd of gorgeous things that surrounded it, and this crowd, as the prince's eyes became accustomed to the splendour, gradually separated itself into various forms of loveliness.
+
+He saw high curiously moulded masses of transparent amber, within which ruby and emerald gems glowed dimly; mounds of rose-flushed snow, and blocks of creamy marble; and in the space between these were huge platforms of silver and porcelain, on which were piled heaps of treasures that he knew must be priceless, though he could not guess what they were all used for.
+
+But amidst all these were certain grim shapes; some seemed to be the carcases of fearful beasts, whose heads had all been struck off, but who had evidently shown such courage in death that they had earned the respect of the brave hunters who had vanquished them -- for rosettes had been pinned on their rough breasts, and their stiffened limbs were bound together by bright-hued ribbons.
+
+Then there was one monstrous head of some brute larger still, which could not have been quite killed even then, for its tawny eyes were still glaring with fury -- the prince could easily have stood upright between its grinning jaws if he had wanted to do so; but he had no intention of doing any such thing, for though he was quite as brave as most fairy princes he was not foolhardy.
+
+And there were big enchanted castles with no doors nor windows in them, and inhabited by restless monsters -- dragons most likely -- who had thrust their scaly black claws through the roofs.
+
+Perhaps he was a little frightened by some of the ugliest shapes at first, but he soon grew used to them, and had no room for any other feelings than pride and joy. For this was Fairyland at last, stranger and more beautiful than anything he could have dreamed of -- he had come into his kingdom!
+
+He was going to live in that lacework palace; those dragons would come fawning out of their lairs presently, and do homage to him; these formidable dead creatures had been slain to do him honour; and he was the rightful owner of all these treasures of gold, and silk, and gems.
+
+He must not forget, he thought, that he owed it all to the good-natured giants who had brought him here: no, when they came in -- as of course they would -- to pay their respects, he would thank them graciously and reward them liberally out of his new wealth.
+
+There was a silver giraffe, stiff and old-fashioned, under a palm-tree hard by, which must have guessed from the prince's proud gay smile that he was deceiving himself and had no idea of his real position.
+
+But the giraffe did not make any attempt to warn him, either because it had seen so many things all round it consumed in its day that the selfish fear that it too would be cut up and handed round some evening kept it preoccupied and silent, or else because, being only electro-plated and hollow inside, it had no feelings of any kind.
+
+By-and-by the doors opened, and delicious bursts of music floated into the room, mingled with scraps of conversation and ripples of fresh laughter; servants came noiselessly in and increased the glare of a kind of sun that hung above the plain, and a host of smaller lights suddenly started up and shone softly through shades of silk and paper.
+
+The music stopped, the laughter and voices grew louder and came nearer, there was the sound of approaching feet -- and then a whole army of mortals surrounded the prince's kingdom.
+
+They were a far smaller and finer race than the giants he had seen hitherto, with pretty fresh complexions, and wearing, some of them, soft shimmering dresses that he thought only fairies ever wore. After a little confusion, they ranged themselves in one long line completely round the plain; the taller beings glided softly about behind, and the prince prepared himself to receive their congratulations with proper dignity and modesty.
+
+But these giants certainly had very odd ways of showing their loyalty, for they saluted him with a clinking and clattering so deafening that they would have drowned the noise of a million gnomes forging fairy armour, while every now and then came a loud report, after which a golden sparkling cascade fell creaming and bubbling from somewhere above into the crystal reservoirs prepared for it.
+
+It was all very gratifying, no doubt -- and yet, though they all pretended to be honouring him, no one seemed to pay him any more particular attention; he thought perhaps they might be feeling abashed in his presence, and that he must manage to reassure them.
+
+But while he was thinking how he could best do this, he began to be aware that along the whole of that glittering plain things were being done without his permission which were scandalous and insulting -- he saw the grisly carcases cut swiftly into pieces with flashing blades, or torn limb from limb deliberately; all the dragons were attacked and overpowered, and hauled out unresisting from their strongholds; even the fierce head was gashed hideously behind the ears!
+
+He tried to speak and ask them what they meant by such audacity, but he could not make them hear as he could the major and the old gipsy; so he was obliged to look on while one by one the trophies dedicated to his glory were changed to shapeless heaps of ruin.
+
+And, unless he was mistaken, the greater part of them were actually disappearing from sight altogether! It seemed impossible, for where could they all go to? and yet nothing now remained of the huge carcases but a meagre framework of bone, hanging together by shreds of skin; the strong castles were roofless walls with gaping breaches in them; and could it be that the more attractive objects were beginning to melt away in the same mysterious manner? Was it enchantment, or how -- how on earth did they manage to do it?
+
+He was no happier when he found out -- for though, of course, to us eating is quite an ordinary everyday affair, only think what a shock the first sight of it must have been to a delicate fairy prince, whose mouth was simply a cherry-coloured curve, and not made to open on any terms!
+
+He saw all the treasures he had looked upon as his very own being lifted to a long line of mouths of all sizes and shapes; the mouths opened to various widths, and -- the treasures vanished, he could not tell how or where.
+
+The mellow amber tottered and quivered for a while and was gone; even the solid creamy marble was hacked in pieces and absorbed; nothing, however beautiful or fantastic, escaped instant annihilation between those terrible bars of scarlet and flashing ivory.
+
+Could this be Fairyland, this plain where all things beautiful were doomed -- or had they brought him back to his kingdom only to make this cruel fun of him, and destroy his riches one by one before his eyes?
+
+But before he could find any answers to these sad questions he chanced to look straight in front of him, and there he saw a face which made his little sugar heart almost melt within him, with a curious feeling, half pleasure, half pain, that was quite new to him.
+
+It was a girl's face, of course, and the prince had not looked at her very long before he forgot all about his kingdom.
+
+He was relieved to see that she at least was too generous to join in the work of destruction that was going on all around her -- indeed, she seemed to dislike it as much as he did himself, for only a little of the tinted snow passed her soft lips.
+
+Now and then she laughed a little silvery laugh, and shook out her rippling gold-brown hair at something the being next to her said -- a great boy-mortal, with a red face, bold eyes, and grasping brown hands, which were fatal to everything within their range.
+
+How the prince did hate that boy! -- he found to his joy that he could understand what they said, and began to listen jealously to their conversation.
+
+'I say,' the boy (whose name, it seemed, was Bertie) was saying, as he received a plateful of floating fragments of the lacework palace, 'you aren't eating anything, Mabel. Don't you care about suppers? I do.'
+
+'I'm not hungry,' she said, evidently feeling this a distinction; 'I've been out so much this fortnight.'
+
+'How jolly!' he observed, 'I only wish I had. But I say,' he added confidentially, 'won't they make you take a grey powder soon? They would me.'
+
+'I'm never made to take anything at all nasty,' she said -- and the prince was indignant that any one should have dared to think otherwise.
+
+'I suppose,' continued the boy, 'you didn't manage to get any of that cake the conjurer made in Uncle John's hat, did you?'
+
+'No, indeed,' she said, and made a little face; 'I don't think I should like cake that came out of anybody's hat!'
+
+'It was very decent cake,' he said; 'I got a lot of it. I was afraid it might spoil my appetite for supper -- but it hasn't.'
+
+'What a very greedy boy you are, Bertie,' she remarked; 'I suppose you could eat anything?'
+
+'At home I think I could, pretty nearly,' he said, with a proud confidence, 'but not at old Tokoe's, I can't. Tokoe's is where I go to school, you know. I can't stand the resurrection-pie on Saturdays -- all the week they save up the bones and rags and things, and when it comes up -- -- '
+
+'I don't want to hear,' she interrupted; 'you talk about nothing but horrid things to eat, and it isn't a bit interesting.'
+
+Bertie allowed himself a brief interval for refreshment unalloyed by conversation, after which he began again: 'Mabel, if they have dancing after supper, dance with me.'
+
+'Are you sure you know how to dance?' she inquired rather fastidiously.
+
+'Oh, I can get through all right,' he replied. 'I've learnt. It's not harder than drilling. I can dance the Highland Schottische and the Swedish dance, any-way.'
+
+'Any one can dance those. I don't call that dancing,' she said.
+
+'Well, but try me once, Mabel; say you will,' said he.
+
+'I don't believe they will have dancing,' she said; 'there are so many very young children here and they get in the way so. But I hope there won't be any more games -- games are stupid.'
+
+'Only to girls,' said Bertie; 'girls never care about any fun.'
+
+'Not your kind of fun,' she said, a little vaguely. 'I don't mind hide-and-seek in a nice old house with long passages and dark corners and secret panels -- and ghosts even -- that's jolly; but I don't care much about running round and round a row of silly chairs, trying to sit down when the music stops and keep other people out -- I call it rude.'
+
+'You didn't seem to think it so rude just now,' he retorted; 'you were laughing quite as much as any one; and I saw you push young Bobby Meekin off the last chair of all, and sit on it yourself, anyhow.'
+
+'Bertie, you didn't,' she cried, flushing angrily.
+
+'I did though.'
+
+'But I tell you I didn't!
+
+'And I say you did!'
+
+'If you will go on saying I did, when I'm quite sure I never did anything of the sort,' she said, 'please don't speak to me again; I shan't answer if you do. And I think you're a particularly ill-bred boy -- not polite, like my brothers.'
+
+'Your brothers are every bit as rude as I am. If they aren't, they're milksops -- I should be sorry to be a milksop.'
+
+'My brothers are not milksops -- they could fight you!' she cried, with a little defiant ring in her voice that the prince thought perfectly charming.
+
+'As if a girl knew anything about fighting,' said Bertie; 'why, I could fight your brothers all stuck in a row!'
+
+'That you couldn't,' from Mabel, and 'I could then, so now!' from Bertie, until at last Mabel refused to answer any more of Bertie's taunts, as they grew decidedly offensive; and, finding that she took refuge in disdainful silence, he consumed tart after tart with gloomy determination.
+
+And then all at once, Mabel, having nothing to do, chanced to look across to the white dome on which the prince was standing, and she opened her beautiful grey eyes with a pleased surprise as she saw him.
+
+All this time the prince had been falling deeper and deeper in love with her; at first he had felt almost certain that she was a princess and his destined bride; he was rather small for her, certainly, though he did not know how very much smaller he was; but Fairyland, he had always been told, was full of resources -- he could easily be filled out to her size, or, better still, she might be brought down to his.
+
+But he had begun to give up these wild fancies already, and even to fear that she would go away without having once noticed him; and now she was looking at him as if she found him pleasant to look at, as if she would like to know him.
+
+At last, evidently after some struggle, she turned to the offending Bertie, and spoke his name softly; but Bertie could not give up the luxury of sulking with her all at once, and so he looked another way.
+
+'Is it Pax, Bertie?' she asked. (She had not had brothers for nothing.)
+
+'No, it isn't,' said Bertie.
+
+'Oh, you want to sulk? I thought only girls sulked,' she said; 'but it doesn't matter, I only wanted to tell you something.'
+
+His curiosity was too much for his dignity. 'Well -- what?' he asked, gruffly enough.
+
+'Only,' she said, 'that I've been thinking over things, and I dare say you could fight my brothers -- only not all together and I'm not sure that Charlie wouldn't beat you.'
+
+'Charlie! I could settle him in five minutes,' muttered Bertie, only half appeased.
+
+'Oh, not in five, Bertie,' cried Mabel, 'ten, perhaps; but you'd never want to, would you, when he's my brother? And now,' she added, 'we're friends again, aren't we, Bertie?'
+
+He was a cynic in his way -- 'I see,' he said, 'you want something out of me; you should have thought of that before you quarrelled, you know!'
+
+Mabel contracted her eyebrows and bit her lip for a moment, then she said meekly -- 
+
+'I know I should, Bertie; but I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind doing this for me. I can ask the boy on my other side -- he's a stupid-looking boy, and I don't care about knowing him -- still, if you won't do it -- -- '
+
+'Oh, well, I don't mind,' he said, softened at once. 'What is it you want?'
+
+'Bertie,' she whispered breathlessly, 'you'll be quite a nice boy if you'll only get me that dear little sugar prince off the cake there; you can reach him better than I can, and -- and I don't quite like to -- only, be quick, or some one else will get him first.'
+
+And in another second the enraptured prince found himself lying on her plate!
+
+'Isn't he lovely?' she cried.
+
+'Not bad,' said Bertie; 'give us a bit -- I got him for you, you know.'
+
+'Give you a bit!' she cried, with the keenest horror and disgust. 'Bertie! you don't really think I wanted him to -- to eat.'
+
+'Oh, the paint doesn't matter,' he said; 'I've eaten lots of them.'
+
+'You really are too horrid,' she said; 'all you think about is eating things. I can't bear greedy boys. I won't have anything to do with you any more; after this we'll be perfect strangers.'
+
+He stared helplessly at her; he had made friends and done all she asked of him, and, just because he begged for a share in the spoil, she had treated him like this! It was too bad of her -- it served him right for bothering about a girl.
+
+He would have told her what he thought about it, only just then there was a general rising. The prince was carried tenderly upstairs, entrusted with many cautions to a trim maid, and laid to rest wrapped in a soft lace handkerchief upon a dressing-table, to dream of the new life in store for him to the accompaniment of faintly heard music and laughter from below.
+
+He had given up all his old ideas of recovering his kingdom and marrying a princess -- very likely he might not be a fairy prince after all, and he felt now that he did not very much care if he wasn't.
+
+He was going to be Mabel's for evermore, and that was worth all Fairyland to him. How bewitching her anger had been when Bertie suspected her of wanting the prince for her own eating. (The prince had already found out that eating meant the way in which these ruthless mortals made everything beautiful pass away between their sharp teeth.)
+
+She had pitied and protected him; might she not some day come to love him? If he had only known what a little sugar fool he was making of himself, I think he would certainly have dissolved into syrup for very shame.
+
+Mabel came up to fetch him at last; they had fastened something white and fleecy round her head and shoulders, and her face was flushed and her eyes seemed a darker grey as she took him out of the handkerchief, with a cry of delight at finding him quite safe, and hurried downstairs with him.
+
+While she was waiting in the hall for her carriage, the prince heard the last of Bertie; he came up to her and whispered spitefully, 'Well, you've kept your word, you've not looked at me since supper, all because I thought you meant to eat that sugar thing off the cake! Now I just tell you this -- you needn't pretend you don't like sweets -- I wouldn't give much for that figure's lasting a week, now!'
+
+She only glanced at him with calm disdain, and passed on under the awning to her carriage, where her brothers were waiting for her, and Bertie was left with a recollection that would make his first fortnight under old Tokoe's roof even bitterer than usual to him.
+
+What a deliciously dreamy drive home that was for the prince; he lay couched on Mabel's soft palm, thinking how cool and satiny it was, and how different from the hot coarse hands which had touched him hitherto.
+
+She said nothing to her brothers, who were curled up, grey indistinct forms, opposite; she sat quietly at the side of the servant who had come to fetch them, and now and then in the faint light the prince could see her smiling with half-shut sleepy eyes at some pleasant recollection.
+
+If that drive could only have gone on for ever! but it came to an end soon, very soon.
+
+A little later his tired little protectress placed him where she could see him when first she awoke the next day, and all that night the prince stood on guard upon the high mantelpiece in the night nursery, thinking of the kiss, half-childish and half-playful, she had given him just before she left him at his post.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The next morning Mabel woke up tired, and, if it must be confessed, a little cross; but the prince thought she looked lovelier than even on the night before, in her plain dark dress and fresh white pinafore and crossbands.
+
+She took him down with her to breakfast, and stationed him near her plate -- and then he made a discovery.
+
+She, too, could make the solid things around her vanish in the very way of which he thought she disapproved so strongly!
+
+It was done, as she seemed to do everything, very daintily and prettily -- but still the things did disappear, somehow, and it was a shock.
+
+She called the attention of her governess -- who was a pale lady, with a very prominent forehead and round spectacles -- to the prince's good looks, and the governess admitted that he was pretty, but cautioned Mabel not to eat him, as these highly-coloured confections invariably contained deleterious matter, and were therefore unwholesome.
+
+'Oh,' said Mabel, defending her favourite with great animation, 'but not this one, Miss Pringle. Because I heard Mrs. Goodchild tell somebody last night that she was always so careful to get only sweets painted with "pure vegetable colours," she called it. But that wouldn't matter -- for of course I shall never want to eat this little man!'
+
+'Oh, of course not,' said the governess, with a smile that struck the prince as being unpleasant -- though he did not know exactly why, and he was glad to forget it in watching the play of Mabel's pretty restless fingers on the table-cloth.
+
+By-and-by the nurse came in, carrying something which he had never seen anything at all like before, and which frightened him very much. It was called as he soon found, a 'Baby,' and it goggled round it with glassy, meaningless eyes, and clucked fearfully somewhere deep down in its throat, while it stretched out feeble little wrinkled hands, exactly like yellow starfish.
+
+'There, there, then!' said the nurse (which seems to be the right thing to say to a baby). 'See, Miss Mabel, he's asking for that to play with.'
+
+Now that happened to be the sugar prince.
+
+Mabel seemed completely in the power of this monster, for she dared not refuse it anything; she crossed almost timidly to it now, and laid the prince in one of its starfish, only entreating that nurse would not allow it to put him in its mouth.
+
+But the baby did not try to do this; its vacant countenance only creased into an idiotic grin, as it began to take a great deal of notice of him; and its way of taking notice was to shake the prince violently up and down, till he was quite giddy.
+
+After doing this several times, it ducked him quite suddenly down, head-foremost, into the nearest cup of tea.
+
+The poor prince felt as if he were all softening and crumbling away into nothing, but it was only some of the paint coming off; and before he could be ducked a second time, Mabel, with a cry of dismay, rescued him from the indignant baby, which howled in a dreadful manner.
+
+She dried him tenderly on her handkerchief, and then, as she saw the result, suddenly began to weep inconsolably herself. 'Oh, see what Baby's done!' she gasped between her sobs; 'all his lovely complexion ruined, spoilt ... I wish somebody would just spoil Baby's face for him, and see how he likes it.... If he isn't slapped at once -- I'll never love him again!'
+
+But nobody slapped the baby -- it was soothed; and, besides, all the slaps hand could bestow would not bring back the prince's lost beauty.
+
+His face was all the colours of the rainbow now; the yellow of his curls had run into his forehead, his brown eyes were smudged across his nose, and his cherry lips smeared upon his cheeks, while all the blue of his doublet had spread up to his chin.
+
+He knew from what they were all saying that this had happened to him, but he did not mind it much, except at first; he had never been vain of his beauty, and it was delightful to hear Mabel's little tender laments over his misfortune; so long as she cared for him as he was -- what did anything else matter?
+
+In the schoolroom that morning he leaned against her writing-desk, and watched her turning fat books lazily over and inking her fair little hands, until she shut them all up with an impatient bang and yawned.
+
+Why was it that at that precise moment the prince began to feel uncomfortable?
+
+'Is it near dinner-time, Miss Pringle?' she asked. 'I'm so awfully hungry!'
+
+The governess's watch showed an hour more to wait.
+
+'I wonder if Comfitt would give me some cake if I ran down and asked her!' said Mabel next.
+
+The governess thought Mabel had much better wait patiently till dinner-time without spoiling her appetite.
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Mabel; 'what a bore it is to be hungry too soon, isn't it?'
+
+Then she took the faded prince up and looked at him mournfully. 'What a shame of Baby!' she said; 'I wanted to keep him always to look at -- but I don't see how I can very well now, do you, Miss Pringle? Do they make these things only for ornament, should you think?'
+
+'I think it is time you finished that exercise,' was all the governess replied.
+
+'Oh, I've almost done it,' said Mabel, 'and I want just to ask this question (it comes under "general information," you know) -- aren't vegetable colours "dilly-whatever-it-is" colours I mean -- harmless? And Dr. Harley said vegetables were so very good for me. I wonder if I might just taste him.'
+
+Here the prince's dream ended: he saw it all at last -- how she had petted and praised him only while he was pleasant to look at; and now that was over -- he was nothing more to her than something to eat.
+
+Presently he was lifted gently between her slim finger and thumb to her lips, and touched caressingly by something red and moist and warm behind them. It was not unpleasant exactly, so far, but he knew that worse was coming, and longed for her to make haste and get it over.
+
+'Vanilla!' reported Mabel, 'that must be all right, Miss Pringle. Cook flavours corn-flour with it!'
+
+Miss Pringle shrugged her sharp shoulders: 'You must use your own judgment, my dear,' was all she said.
+
+And then -- I am sorry to have to tell what happened next, but this is a true story and I must go on -- then the prince saw Mabel's grey eyes looking at him from under their long lashes with interest for the last time, he saw two gleaming pearly rows closing upon him, he felt a sharp pang, of grief as well as pain, as they crunched him up into small pieces, and he slowly melted away and there was an end of him.
+
+There is a beautiful moral belonging to this story, but it is of no use to print it here, because it only applies to sugar princes -- until Mabel is quite grown up.
+
+THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON.
+
+[Illustration: It]
+
+It was ten years since Agamemnon, the mighty Argive monarch, had left his kingdom (somewhat suddenly, and after a stormy interview with the Queen, as those said who had the best opportunities of knowing), with the avowed intention of going to assist at the siege of Troy.
+
+He had never written once since, but so many reports of his personal daring and his terrible wounds had reached the palace that Clytemnestra would often observe, with a touch of annoyance, that, if not actually dead by that time, he must be nearly as full of holes as a fishing-net.
+
+So that she was scarcely surprised when they broke the intelligence to her one day that he really had gone at last, having fallen, fighting desperately, against the most fearful odds, upon the Trojan plain; and when, a little later, she formally announced to her faithful subjects her betrothal to Ægisthus, her youngest and favourite courtier, they were not surprised in their turn.
+
+They told one another, with ribald facetiousness, that they had rather expected something of the kind.
+
+They were celebrating their Queen's betrothal day with the wildest enthusiasm, for they were a simple affectionate people, and foresaw an impetus to local trade. It had been but a dull time for Argos during those weary ten years, and the city had become well-nigh deserted, as, one by one, all her bravest and her best had left her, to seek, as they poetically put it, 'a soldier's tomb.'
+
+Several married men, in whom no such patriotic enthusiasm had ever been previously suspected, found out that their country required their services, left their wives and their little ones, and started for the field of battle. There were many pushing Argive tradesmen, too, who abandoned their business and sought -- not ostentatiously, but with the self-effacement of true heroism -- the seat of war upon which their sovereign had been sitting so long; while the real extent of their devotion was seldom appreciated until long after their departure, when it was generally discovered that, in their eagerness, they had left their affairs in the greatest confusion.
+
+And very soon almost the only young men left were mild, unwarlike youths, who were respectable and wore spectacles, while the rest of the male population was composed of equal parts of prattling infants and doddering octogenarians.
+
+This was a melancholy state of things -- but then the absent ones wrote such capital letters home, containing such graphic descriptions of camp life and the fiercer excitements of night attacks and forlorn hopes, that the recipients ought to have been amply consoled.
+
+They were not; they only remarked that it seemed rather odd that the writers should so persistently forget to give their addresses, and that it was a singular circumstance that while each letter purported to come direct from the Grecian lines, every envelope somehow bore a different postmark. And often would the older married women (and their mothers too) wish with infinite pathos that they could only just get the missing ones home and talk to them a little -- that was all!
+
+But all anxiety was forgotten in the celebration of the betrothal, for the Argives were determined to do the thing really well. So in the principal streets they had erected triumphal arches, typifying the chief local manufactures, which were (as it is scarcely necessary to inform the scholar) soda-water and cane-bottomed chairs; and from these arches chairs and bottles were constantly dropping, like a gentle dew, upon the happy crowd which passed beneath. All the public fountains spouted a cheap dinner sherry like water -- 'very like water,' said some disaffected persons; householders were graciously invited to exhibit flags and illuminations at their own expense, and in the market-place a fowl was being roasted whole for the populace.
+
+All was gaiety, therefore, at sunset, when the citizens assembled in groups about the square in front of the palace, prepared to cheer the royal pair with enthusiasm when they deigned to show themselves upon the balcony.
+
+The well-meaning old gentlemen who formed the Chorus (for in those days every house of any position in society maintained a chorus, and even shabby-genteel families kept a semi-chorus in buttons) were twittering in a corner, prepared to come forth by-and-by with the ill-timed allusions, melancholy and depressing forebodings, and unnecessary advice, which were all that was expected of them, and the Mayor and Corporation were fussing about distractedly with a brass band and the inevitable address.
+
+All at once there was a stir in the crowd, and the eyes of everyone were strained towards a tall and swaying scaffold on the royal house-top, where a small black figure, outlined sharply against the saffron sky, could be seen gesticulating wildly?
+
+'Look at the watchman!' they whispered excitedly; 'what can be the matter with him?'
+
+Now before Agamemnon left he had had fires laid upon all the mountain tops in a straight line between Argos and Troy, arranging to light the pile at the Troy end of the chain when it should become necessary to let them know at home that they might expect him back shortly.
+
+The watchman had been put up on a scaffold to look out for the beacon, and had been there for years day and night, without being once allowed to quit his post -- even on his birthday. It was expected that Clytemnestra would have let him come down for good when she was informed of Agamemnon's death on such excellent authority, but she would not hear of such a thing. She knew people would think it very foolish and sentimental of her, she said, but to take the watchman down would seem so like giving up all hope! So she kept him up, a proof of her conjugal devotion which touched everyone -- except perhaps the watchman himself.
+
+Clytemnestra and Ægisthus, who had happened to come out while all this excitement was at its height, found themselves absolutely ignored. 'Not a single cap off -- not one solitary hurray,' cried the Queen with majestic anger. 'What have you been doing to make yourself so unpopular with my loyal Argives?' she demanded suspiciously.
+
+'I don't think it's anything to do with me, really,' protested Ægisthus, feebly. 'They're only looking the other way just now, and -- can't you see why?' he added suddenly, 'they've lit the beacon on the top of Arachnæus!'
+
+Clytemnestra looked, and started violently, as on the mountain-top in question a red tongue of flame shot up through the gathering dusk: 'What does it mean?' she whispered, clutching him convulsively by the arm.
+
+'Well,' said Ægisthus, 'it looks to me, do you know, rather as if your late lamented husband has changed his mind about dying, and is on his way to your arms.'
+
+'Then he is not dead!' exclaimed Clytemnestra. 'He is coming home. I shall look upon that face, hear that voice, press that hand once again! How excessively annoying!'
+
+'Confounded nuisance!' he agreed heartily, but his irritation sounded slightly overdone, somehow. 'Well, it's all over with the betrothal after this; don't you think it would be as well to get all the arches, and fireworks, and things out of the way? We shan't want them now, you know.'
+
+'Why not?' said the Queen; 'they will all do for him; he won't know. Ye gods!' she cried, stretching out her arms with a tragic groan. 'Must I, too, do for him?'
+
+'Any way,' said Ægisthus, with an attempted ease, 'you won't want me any longer, and so, if you will kindly excuse me, I -- I think I'll retire to some quiet spot whither I can drag myself with my broken heart and bleed to death, like a wounded deer, don't you know!'
+
+'You can do all that just as well here,' she replied. 'I wish you to stay. Who knows what may happen?' -- she added, with a sinister smile, 'We may be happy yet!'
+
+Clytemnestra's sinister smiles always made Ægisthus feel exactly as if something was disagreeing with him -- so he stayed.
+
+By this time the populace had also realised the turn affairs had taken, but they very sensibly determined that it was their plain duty to persevere with the merriment. They were, as has been mentioned before, a simple and affectionate people, and fond of their king; so, as his return would be even more beneficial to trade than the betrothal, they rejoiced on, and there was nothing in the least strained or hollow in their revelry.
+
+And presently there was a fresh stir in the crowd, and then a rumbling of wheels as the covered chariot from the station rolled, amidst faint cheering, up to the palace gates, and was saluted by the one aged sentinel who stood on guard.
+
+'It is Agamemnon,' gasped the Queen; 'he has come already -- he must not find me unprepared. I will go within.'
+
+She had just time to retire hastily, followed by Ægisthus, before a short stout man in faded regimentals and a cocked hat with a moulting plume descended from the vehicle.
+
+The Chorus, finding it left to them to do the honours, advanced in a row, singing the ode of welcome, which they had had in rehearsal ever since the first year of the war.
+
+'O King,' they chanted in their cracked old trebles, 'offspring of Atreus, and sacker of Troy!'
+
+'Will you kindly count the boxes?' interrupted the monarch, who hated sentiment; 'there should be four -- a tin cocked-hat box, two camel-hair trunks, and a carpet bag.'
+
+But a Greek chorus was not easily suppressed, and they broke out again all together, 'Nay, but with bursting hearts would we bid thee thrice hail!'
+
+'Once is ample, thank you,' said the King, with regal politeness; 'and I should be really distressed if any of you were to burst on my account. Has anybody such a thing as half a drachma about him?'
+
+He heard no more of the ode, and the Mayor thought it advisable to roll up his address and take his Corporation home.
+
+Agamemnon had succeeded in borrowing the drachma, and had just turned his back to pay the driver as Clytemnestra glided down the broad steps to the court-yard, and, striking an attitude, addressed nobody in particular in tones of rapturous joy.
+
+'O happy day!' she cried very loudly, 'on which my hero husband returns to me after a long absence, quite unexpectedly. Henceforth shall his helmet rust upon the hat-stand, and his spear repose innocuous amongst the umbrellas, and his breastplate shall he replace by a chest-protector; for a shield he shall have a sunshade, and instead of his sword he shall carry a spud. But now let me, as an exceptionally faithful wife, greet him before ye all with -- -- Agamemnon, will you have the goodness to tell me who that young person is in the chariot?' was her abrupt and somewhat lame conclusion.
+
+'Oh, there you are, eh?' said Agamemnon, turning round and presenting a forefinger. 'How de do, my love; how de do?' ('I shan't give you another obol!' he said to the driver, who seemed still unsatisfied.) 'So, you're quite well, eh?' he resumed to his wife; 'plenty to say for yourself as usual. Gad, I feel as if I hadn't been away a week -- till I look at you.... Well, we can't expect to be always young, can we? So you want to know my little friend here? Allow me to present her to you. One moment.'
+
+And bustling up to the chariot, he assisted from it a maiden with a pale face, great, wild, roving eyes, and hair of tawny gold, and led her back to his wife.
+
+'The Princess Cassandra of Troy -- my wife, Queen Clytemnestra. They tell me this young lady can prophesy very prettily, my dear,' he remarked.
+
+Clytemnestra bowed coldly, and said she was sure it would be vastly amusing. Did the Princess intend giving any public entertainments?
+
+'She is our visitor,' Agamemnon put in warningly; while Cassandra smiled satirically, and said nothing at all.
+
+Clytemnestra hoped she might be able to induce her to stay longer, a week was such a very short time.
+
+'She has kindly consented to stay on a little longer, my love,' said Agamemnon -- 'all her life,' in fact.'
+
+The Queen was charmed to hear it; it was so very nice and kind of her, particularly as strangers were apt to find the neighbourhood an unhealthy one.
+
+And as Ægisthus joined them just then, she presented him to the King, with the remark that he had been the most faithful and devoted of courtiers during the whole period of the King's absence; to which Agamemnon replied, with the slightest of scowls, that he was delighted to make the acquaintance of Mr. Ægisthus; and after that no one seemed to know exactly what to say for a minute or two.
+
+At last Ægisthus hazarded a supposition that the royal warrior had found it warm over at Troy.
+
+'It varied, sir,' said the monarch, uncomfortably; 'the climate varied. I used to get very warm fighting sometimes.'
+
+Ægisthus agreed that a battle must be hot work, and Clytemnestra suddenly exclaimed that her husband was wearing the very same dear shabby old uniform he had on when he went away.
+
+'The very same,' said Agamemnon, smiling. 'I wore it all through the campaign. Your true warrior is no dandy!'
+
+'We were given to understand you were wounded,' remarked Ægisthus.
+
+'Oh,' said the King, 'yes; I was considerably wounded -- all over the chest and arms. But what cared I?'
+
+'Exactly,' said Ægisthus; 'and, curiously enough, the weapons don't seem to have pierced your coat at all. I observe there are no patches.'
+
+'No,' the King replied; 'so you noticed that, eh? Well, the reason of that is that those fellows out there have a peculiar sort of way of cutting and slashing, so as to -- -- '
+
+And he explained this by some elaborate illustrations with his sheathed sword, until Ægisthus said that he thought he understood how it was done.
+
+But Clytemnestra suddenly, with a kitten-like girlishness that sat but ill upon her, pounced playfully upon the weapon. 'I want to see it drawn,' she cried; 'I want to look upon the keen flashing blade which has penetrated the inmost recesses of so many of our country's foes. Oh, it won't come out,' she added, as she attempted to pull it out of the scabbard; 'do make it come out!'
+
+The King tried, but the blade stuck half way, and what was visible of it seemed thickly coated with rust; but Agamemnon said it was gore, and his orderly must have forgotten to clean his accoutrements after the fall of Troy. He added that it was the effect of the sea air.
+
+'Troy really has fallen then?' asked Ægisthus. 'I suppose you stayed to see the thing out?'
+
+'I did, sir,' answered the monarch proudly; 'I sacked the most fashionable quarters myself. I expect my booty will be forwarded -- shortly. Didn't you know Troy was taken?' he asked suspiciously. 'Couldn't you see the beacon I lighted just before I started?'
+
+The courtier murmured that it was wonderful to find so long and tedious a journey accomplished in such capital time.
+
+'What do you mean by that? How do you know how long it took?' demanded Agamemnon.
+
+'Don't you see?' said Clytemnestra. 'Why, you say you had the fire lighted at Ida when you started; then, of course, they would see it directly over at Lemnos, and light theirs; and then at Athos, and then -- -- '
+
+'You are not a time-table, my love,' interrupted the monarch, coldly. 'I won't trouble you for all these details. Come to the point.'
+
+'The point is,' she explained sweetly, 'that we have only just seen the beacon flame arrive here at Arachnæus, after leaping from height to height across lake and plain; so that you, my dearest, must have made the distance with almost equal celerity!'
+
+'I came with the beacon,' said Agamemnon, coughing; 'perhaps that disposes of the difficulty?'
+
+'Perhaps,' said the Queen; 'I mean quite. And now,' she continued, after a rapid exchange of glances with Ægisthus, 'you will come indoors, and have a nice cup of coffee and a warm bath before you do anything else, won't you?'
+
+He almost thought he would, he said; fighting for ten long years without intermission was a dusty, tiring occupation, and he was accordingly about to enter, when his eye fell on the awnings and flags and the red stair carpet, which had been prepared for the betrothal festivities, and he frowned.
+
+'Now, my dear, this sort of thing is all very well, no doubt; but I don't care about it. I'm a plain, honest ruler of men, and I hate flummery and flattery -- particularly when it all comes out of my pocket! Why, you've laid down the drugget from the Throne-Room over all this gravel. Take it up directly; I decline to walk over it. Do you hear? This wasteful extravagance is positively sinful. Take it up!'
+
+Clytemnestra assured him earnestly that they had had no intention of annoying him with it -- which was literally true; and suggested meekly that for the King to stay out in the court-yard until all the decorations were removed might be a tedious and even a ridiculous proceeding. 'If,' she added, 'he was merely unwilling to spoil the drugget, he might easily remove his boots, which were extremely muddy -- for a monarch's.'
+
+'Well, well, my dear, be it so,' said the King; 'I did not intend to chide you. It is only that I have grown so accustomed to the frugal, hardy life of a camp, that I have imbibed a soldier's contempt for luxury.'
+
+And, removing his boots, he followed the Queen into the Palace, as she led the way with a baleful expression upon her dark and inscrutable face.
+
+As the pair passed up the steps and between the lofty pillars, the hounds howled from the royal kennels at the back of the Palace, and -- a stranger portent still -- a meteor shot suddenly through the growing gloom and burst in a rain of coloured stars above the house-top, while, shortly after, a staff fell from above upon the head of one of the Chorus -- and was shivered to fragments!
+
+* * * * *
+
+Ægisthus had strolled away under the colonnade, and Cassandra was left alone with the Chorus. She stood apart, mystic, moody, and impenetrable, letting down her flowing back hair.
+
+'You prophesy, do you not?' said the kind old men at length, wishing to make her feel at home; 'might we beg you to favour us with a prediction -- just a little one?'
+
+Cassandra made excuses at first, as was proper; she had a cold, and was feeling the effects of the journey. She was really not inspired just then, she protested, and besides, she had not touched a tripod for ages.
+
+But, upon being pressed, she gave way at last, after declaring with a little giggle that she was perfectly certain nobody would believe a single word she said.
+
+'I see before me,' she began, in a weird, sepulchral tone which she found it impossible to keep up for many sentences, 'a proud and stately pile -- but enter not. See ye yon ghoul among the chimney-pots, yon amphisboena in the back garden? And the scent of gore pervades it!'
+
+'It is no happy home that is thus described!' the Chorus threw in profesionally.
+
+'But the Finger of Fate is slowly unwound, and the Hand of Destiny steps in to pace the marble halls with heavy tramp. And know, old men, that the Inevitable is not wholly unconnected with the Probable!'
+
+At this even their politeness could not restrain a gesture of incredulity, but she heeded it not, and continued:
+
+'Who is this that I see next -- this regal warrior bounding over the blazing battlements in brazen panoply?'
+
+('That must be Agamemnon,' cried the Chorus; 'the despatches mentioned him bounding like that. Wonderful!')
+
+'I see him,' she resumed, 'pale and prostrate -- a prey to the pangs within him, scanning the billows from his storm-tossed ship. Now he has reached his native city. Hark! how they greet him! And, behold, a stately matron meets him with a honeyed smile, inviting him to enter. He yields. And then -- -- '
+
+Here Cassandra stopped, with the remark that that was all -- as there were limits even to the marvellous faculty of second-sight.
+
+The Chorus were not unimpressed, for they had never seen a prediction and its literal fulfilment in quite such close conjunction before, and their own attempts always came wrong; but although they were agreed that the prophecy was charming as far as it went, they began to feel slightly afraid of the prophetess, and were secretly relieved when Ægisthus happened to come up shortly afterwards with an offer to show her such places of interest as Argos boasted.
+
+But they were great authorities upon all points of etiquette and morality, and they all remarked (when she had gone) that she displayed an unbecoming readiness in accepting the escort of a courtier who had not been formally introduced to her. 'That may be the custom in Troy,' they said, wagging their beards, 'but if she means to behave like that here -- well!'
+
+And now the last gleam of the sunset had faded, and the stars straggled out in the pale green sky, whilst the Chorus walked up and down to keep warm, for the evening was growing chilly.
+
+Suddenly a loud cry broke the silence -- a scream as of a strong man in mortal agony! It struck all of them that the voice was uncommonly like Agamemnon's, but none liked to say so, and they only observed with a forced composure that really the cats were becoming quite a nuisance.
+
+The cry came again, louder this time, and more distinct; it seemed to come from the direction of the royal bath-room. 'Hi, here, somebody -- help! They've turned on the hot water, and I can't turn it off again!'
+
+After this there could be no possible doubt that there was something the matter far more serious than cats. Agamemnon, the king of men, was apparently in difficulties, and it was only too probable that this was Clytemnestra's fell work.
+
+They all ran about and fell over one another in the general flurry and confusion, and then as they recovered their presence of mind they began to consult upon the best course to pursue under the circumstances. Some were of opinion that it would not be a quite unpardonable breach of court etiquette if they were to rush into the bath-room and pull the royal sufferer out; others, more cautious, asked for precedents in a case of such delicacy, and they almost quarrelled, until the wisest of them all reminded his fellows that, at all events, it was too late to interfere then, as the monarch must certainly be hard-boiled by that time -- which relieved them from all responsibility in the happiest manner.
+
+At this point the Queen appeared at the head of the marble steps, down which she glided cautiously and came towards them, evidently in a condition of suppressed excitement.
+
+'What a beautiful evening!' said the Chorus in unison, for they considered it better taste not to appear to have noticed anything at all unusual.
+
+'Agamemnon is with his ancestors,' she replied in a fierce whisper; 'I sewed up the sleeves of his bathing-gown and I drugged his coffee, and then from afar I turned on the hot water. And he is boiled, and it serves him right, and I'm glad of it -- so now! But tell me, ye aged ones,' she added with one of her quick transitions, 'have I done well?'
+
+Now the Chorus were distinctly disgusted at her want of tact and reserve, and would have greatly preferred not to be admitted into confidences of so purely domestic a description, but they were not the men to flinch from their duty.
+
+'In our opinion, O Queen,' they replied coldly, 'the deed was a hasty one, and accomplished without sufficient consideration.'
+
+'Ha!' she exclaimed angrily, 'so ye would rate me like a girl! Am I not your sovereign mistress? Guard, seize these insolents!'
+
+And the superannuated old sentinel left his box and tottered up to seize as many of them as he could lay hold of at once, telling the remainder to consider themselves under arrest, which they did directly.
+
+'Summon the populace,' Clytemnestra next commanded, and the Argives left the fireworks obediently and assembled before the steps.
+
+'Citizens! Argives!' she cried in a loud clear voice, 'I am sure you will all be very sorry and disappointed to hear that your beloved sovereign, so lately restored to us' (here she broke down with the naturalness of a great artist) -- 'that our beloved sovereign is -- by a most deplorable and unaccountable lack of precaution -- -- '
+
+'Alive!' interrupted a voice from behind the Queen, and someone pushed aside the hangings before the door of the Palace, and began to descend the steps. It was Agamemnon himself.
+
+Clytemnestra shrieked as she turned slowly, and confronted him in silence for some moments; the situation was intensely dramatic, and the Argives, a simple and affectionate people, fully appreciated this, and never once regretted the fireworks they had abandoned.
+
+The Queen was the first to speak: 'So,' she said, pale and panting, 'you -- you've -- had your bath?'
+
+'Well -- no,' said Agamemnon mildly; 'I happened to observe that someone had thoughtfully sewn up the armholes of my dressing-gown, and that the coffee had a particularly nasty smell in it, and so, somehow, I thought I would rather wait. And then the boiling water came rushing in, and I saw there had been a little mistake somewhere. So it occurred to me that I too would dissemble and see what came of it, and I shouted for help. I think I see it all now.'
+
+And then he took a higher moral tone; his manner was no longer cynical; he was not angry even -- only deeply wounded, and there was something fine and striking in the stern sadness of his brow.
+
+'So this,' he said, 'was to have been my fate? I was to return, a war-worn warrior, to the hearth and home from which I had been absent so long -- so long -- to be ruthlessly parboiled the very moment after my arrival, by the partner of my throne! Was this kind -- was this wifely, Clytemnestra?'
+
+'That comes so well from you, does it not?' she retorted.
+
+'Why -- why -- what do you mean?' he stammered.
+
+'You know very well what I mean,' she said. 'Bah! why play the hypocrite with me?'
+
+'Is it possible,' he cried, 'that you can suspect me of not having been near Troy all this time -- tell me, Clytemnestra -- is this monstrous thing possible?'
+
+'Quite,' she replied; 'I know you haven't!'
+
+'What -- when I tell you that there is a poet, a fellow called Homer or something, who has got a sort of reputation already by putting the campaign into verses, rather long, but quite readable (you must order them); well, there's a lot about me in them.'
+
+'Did Homer see you there?'
+
+'Now that's a most ridiculous question,' he protested, with a feeling that she was coming round, and that he should convince her directly; 'the poet's blind, Clytemnestra, quite blind. But I will not argue -- you must be content with a warrior's assurance.'
+
+She laughed. 'I'm afraid,' she said, 'that even a warrior's assurance will find it difficult to account satisfactorily for this -- and this -- and these!' And as she spoke, she handed him a variety of articles: a folding hat, a guide to Corinth, a conversation manual, several unused tourist tickets, one or two theatre programmes, a green veil, some supper bills, a correct card for the Olympian races, with the names of probable starters, and three little jointed wooden dolls.
+
+Agamemnon took them all helplessly; all his virtuous indignation had evaporated, and he looked very red and foolish as he said with a kind of nervous laugh, 'You've been looking in my pockets!'
+
+'I have,' she said, 'and now what have you to say for yourself? I don't believe there is any such place as Troy.'
+
+'There is indeed,' he pleaded; 'I can show it to you on the map!'
+
+'Well,' she said, 'if there is, you never went near it!'
+
+'Send those people away,' he said, 'and I will tell you all!'
+
+And when they had gone, he confessed everything, explaining that he really had meant to go to Troy at first, and how, as he got nearer, he found himself less and less inclined for fighting -- until at last he determined to travel about and see life instead, and, as he expressed it, 'pick up a little character.'
+
+'Well,' said Clytemnestra, 'I will have no little characters in my palace, Agamemnon.'
+
+But he protested that she had not understood him. 'And if I have erred, my love,' he suggested humbly, 'excuse me, but I cannot help thinking that the means devised for my correction were unnecessarily severe!'
+
+'They were nothing of the sort,' she said; 'you deserved it all -- and worse!'
+
+Upon this Agamemnon made haste to assure her that she had shown a very proper spirit, and he respected her the more for it. 'And now,' he put it to her, 'why not let bygones be bygones?' But Clytemnestra's reply was that she would be quite willing to permit this when they were bygones, which, at present, she added, they were very far from being.
+
+The King was in despair, until beneficent nature came to his assistance; a faint chirrup was heard from a neighbouring bush, a circumstance which he turned to admirable account.
+
+'You hear it?' he asked tenderly, 'the dulcet strain? Know ye the note? Ah, Clytemnestra, 'tis the owl -- the blithe and tuneful owl! Owls sang on our bridal night -- can you hear their melody now and be unmoved? No, I did but wrong ye ... a tear trembles on that eyelash, a smile flickers upon that lip! I am pardoned. Clytemnestra -- wife, embrace me ... we both have much to forgive!'
+
+This speech (which was not unlike some he had heard in thrilling dramas at the 'Hæmabronteion,' Corinth, where the prophetess Cassandra had been greatly admired in her impersonations of persecuted and distracted heroines) touched Clytemnestra's heart, in which, hard as it was, there was a strain of sentiment -- and she fell sobbing into her husband's arms.
+
+And so all was forgotten and forgiven in the most satisfactory manner, the Chorus (who had been considering themselves arrested until the intellectual strain had proved almost too much for them) were released, while it was found on inquiry that both Ægisthus and Cassandra were missing, and no trace of either of them was ever found again; but it was generally understood that, with a delicate unselfishness, they had been unwilling to remain where their presence would lead to inevitable complications.
+
+And from that night -- until the fatal day, some six short weeks afterwards, when each, by an unfortunate oversight, partook of a mixture which had been carefully prepared for the other -- there was not a happier royal couple in all Argos than Clytemnestra and Agamemnon.
+
+THE WRAITH OF BARNJUM.[1]
+
+[Illustration: I]
+
+I frankly admit, whatever may be the consequences of doing so, that I was not fond of Barnjum; in fact, I detested him. Everything that fellow said and did jarred upon me to an absolutely indescribable extent, although I did not discover for some time that he regarded me with a strange and unreasonable aversion.
+
+We were so essentially unlike in almost every particular -- I, with my innate refinement and high culture, my over-fastidious exclusiveness in the choice of associates; and he, a big, red, coarse brute, with neither sweetness nor light, who knew himself a Philistine, and seemed to like it -- we were so unlike, that I often asked him, with a genuine desire for information, what had I in common with him?
+
+[Footnote 1: Reprinted from Temple Bar for March 1879, by permission of the Proprietors.]
+
+And yet it will scarcely be believed, perhaps, that with such good reasons for keeping apart, we were continually seeking one another's company with a zest that knew no satiety. The only explanation I can offer for such a phenomenon is, that our mutual antipathy had become so much a part of ourselves, that we could not let it perish for lack of nourishment.
+
+Perhaps we were not conscious of this at the time, and when we agreed to go on a walking tour together in North Wales, I think it was chiefly because we knew that we could devise no surer means of annoying one another; but, however that may be, in an ill-starred day for my own peace of mind, we started upon a journey from which but one of us was fated to return.
+
+I pass by the painful experiences of the first few days of that unhappy tour. I will say nothing of Barnjum's grovelling animalism, of his consummate selfishness, his more than bucolic indifference to the charms of Nature, nor even of the mean and sordid way in which he contrived to let me in for railway tickets and hotel bills.
+
+I wish to tell my melancholy story with perfect impartiality, and I am sure that I am not reduced to exciting any prejudice to secure the sympathies of all readers.
+
+I shall pass, then, to the memorable day when my disgust, so long pent up, so imperfectly concealed, culminated in one grand outburst of a not ignoble indignation, to the hour when I summoned up moral courage to sever the bonds which linked us so unequally.
+
+I remember it so well, that brilliant morning in June when we left the Temperance Hotel, Doldwyddlm, and scaled in sulky silence the craggy heights of Cader Idris, which, I presume, still overhang that picturesque village, while, as we ascended, an ever-changing and ever-improving panorama unrolled itself before my delighted eyes.
+
+The air up there was keen and bracing, and I recollect that I could not repress an æsthetic shudder at the crude and primitive tone which Barnjum's nose had assumed under atmospheric influences. I mentioned this (for we still maintained the outward forms of friendship), when he retorted, with the brutal personality which formed so strong an ingredient of his character, that if I could only see myself in that suit of mine, and that hat (referring to the dress I was then wearing), I should feel the propriety of letting his nose alone. To which I replied, with a sarcasm that I feel now was a little too crushing, that I had every intention of doing so, as it was quite painful enough to merely contemplate such a spectacle; and he, evidently meaning to be offensive, remarked, that no one could help his nose getting red, but that any man in my position could at least dress like a gentleman I took no notice of this insult; a Bunting (I don't think I mentioned before that my name is Philibert Bunting) -- a Bunting can afford to pass such insinuations by; indeed, I find it actually cheaper to do so, and I flattered myself that my dress was distinguished by a sort of studied looseness, that would appeal at once to a cultivated and artistic eye, though of course Barnjum's hard and shallow organs could not be expected to appreciate it.
+
+I overlooked it, then, and presently we found ourselves skirting the edge of a huge chasm, whose steep sides sloped sheer down into the slate-blue waters of the lake below.
+
+How can I hope to give an idea of the magnificent view which met our eyes as we stood there -- a view of which, as far as I am aware, no description has ever yet been attempted?
+
+To our right towered the Peaks of Dolgelly, with their saw-like outline cutting the blue sky with a faint grating sound, while the shreds of white cloud lay below in drifts. At our feet were the sun-lit waters of the lake, upon which danced a fleet of brown-sailed herring-boats; beyond was the plain of Capel Curig, and there, over on the left, sparkled the falls of Y-Dydd.
+
+As I took all this in I felt a longing to say something worthy of the occasion. Being possessed of a considerable fund of carefully-dried and selected humour, I frequently amuse myself by a species of intellectual exercise, which consists in so framing a remark that a word or more therein may bear two entirely opposite constructions; and some of the quaint names of the vicinity seemed to me just then admirably adapted for this purpose.
+
+I was about to gauge my dull-witted companion's capacity by some such test, when he forestalled me.
+
+'You ought to live up here, Bunting,' said he; 'you were made for this identical old mountain.'
+
+I was not displeased, for, Londoner as I am, I have the nerve and steadiness of a practised mountaineer.
+
+'Perhaps I was,' I said good-humouredly; 'but how did you find it out?'
+
+'I'll tell you,' he replied, with one of his odious grins. 'This is Cader Idris, ain't it? well, and you're a cad awry dressed, ain't you? Cader Idrissed, see?' (he was dastard enough to explain) 'That's how I get at it!'
+
+He must have been laboriously leading up to that for the last ten minutes!
+
+I solemnly declare that it was not the personal outrage that roused me; I simply felt that a paltry verbal quibble of that description, emitted amidst such scenery and at that altitude, required a protest in the name of indignant Nature, and I protested accordingly, although with an impetuosity which I afterwards regretted, and of which I cannot even now entirely approve.
+
+He happened to be standing on the brink of an abyss, and had just turned his back upon me, as, with a vigorous thrust of my right foot, I launched him into the blue æther, with the chuckle at his unhallowed jest still hovering upon his lips.
+
+I am aware that by such an act I took a liberty which, under ordinary circumstances, even the licence of a life-long friendship would scarcely have justified; but I thought it only due to myself to let him see plainly that I desired our acquaintanceship to cease from that instant, and Barnjum was the kind of man upon whom a more delicate hint would have been distinctly thrown away.
+
+I watched his progress with some interest as he rebounded from point to point during his descent. I waited -- punctiliously, perhaps, until the echoes he had aroused had died away on the breeze, and then, slowly and thoughtfully, I retraced my steps, and left a spot which was already becoming associated for me with memories the reverse of pleasurable.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I took the next up-train, and before I reached town had succeeded in dismissing the incident from my mind, or if I thought of it at all, it was only to indulge relief at the reflection that I had shaken off Barnjum for ever.
+
+But when I had paid my cab, and was taking out my latch-key, a curious thing happened -- the driver called me back.
+
+'Beg pardon, sir,' he said hoarsely, 'but I think you've bin and left something white in my cab!'
+
+I turned and looked in: there, grinning at me from the interior of the hansom, over the folding-doors, was the wraith of Barnjum!
+
+I had presence of mind enough to thank the man for his honesty, and go upstairs to my rooms with as little noise as possible. Barnjum's ghost, as I expected, followed me in, and sat down coolly before the fire, in my arm-chair, thus giving me an opportunity of subjecting the apparition to a thorough examination.
+
+It was quite the conventional ghost, filmy, transparent, and, though wanting firmness in outline, a really passable likeness of Barnjum. Before I retired to rest I had thrown both my boots and the contents of my bookcase completely through the thing, without appearing to cause it more than a temporary inconvenience -- which convinced me that it was indeed a being from another world.
+
+Its choice of garments struck me even then as decidedly unusual. I am not narrow; I cheerfully allow that, assuming the necessity for apparitions at all, it is well that they should be clothed in robes of some kind; but Barnjum's ghost delighted in a combination of costume which set the fitness of things at defiance.
+
+It wore that evening, for instance, to the best of my recollection, striped pantaloons, a surplice, and an immense cocked hat; but on subsequent occasions its changes of costume were so rapid and eccentric, that I ceased to pay much attention to them, and could only explain them on the supposition that somewhere in space there exists a supernatural store in the nature of a theatrical wardrobe, and that Barnjum's ghost had the run of it.
+
+I had not been in very long before my landlady came up to see if I wanted anything, and of course as soon as she came in, she saw the wraith. At first she objected to it very strongly, declaring that she would not have such nasty things in her house, and if I wanted to keep ghosts, I had better go somewhere else; but I pacified her at last by representing that it would give her no extra trouble, and that I was only taking care of it for a friend.
+
+When she had gone, however, I sat up till late, thinking calmly over my position, and the complications which might be expected to ensue from it.
+
+It would be very easy to harrow the reader's feelings and work upon his sympathies here by a telling description of my terror and my guilty confusion at the unforeseen consequences of what I had done. But I think, in relating an experience of this kind, the straightforward way is always the best, and I do not care to heighten the effect by attributing to myself a variety of sensations which I do not remember to have actually felt at the time.
+
+My first impression had not unnaturally been that the spectre was merely the product of overwrought nerves or indigestion, but it seemed improbable that a cabman should be plagued by a morbid activity of imagination, and that a landlady's digestion could be delicate sufficiently to evolve a thing so far removed from the merely commonplace; and, reluctantly enough, I was forced to the conclusion that it was a real ghost, and would probably continue to haunt me to the end of my days.
+
+Of course I was disgusted by this exhibition of petty revenge and low malice on the part of Barnjum, which might be tolerated perhaps in a Christmas annual, with a full-page illustration, but which, in real life and the height of summer, was a glaring anachronism.
+
+Still, it was of no use to repine then; I resolved to look at the thing in a common-sense light -- I told myself that I had made my ghost, and would have to live with it. And after all, I had much to be thankful for: Barnjum in the spirit was a decided improvement upon Barnjum in the flesh; and as the spirit did not appear to be gifted with speech, it was unlikely to tell tales.
+
+Luckily for me, too, Barnjum was absolutely unknown about town: his only relative was an aunt resident at Camberwell, and so there was no danger of any suspicion being excited by chance recognition in the circles to which I belonged.
+
+It would have been folly to shut one's eyes to the fact that it might require considerable nerve to re-enter society closely attended by an obscure and fancifully-attired apparition.
+
+Society would sneer considerably at first and make remarks, but I was full of tact and knowledge of the world, and I knew, too, that men have overcome far more formidable obstacles to social success than any against which I should be called upon to contend.
+
+And so, instead of weakly giving way to unreasonable panic, I took the more manly course of determining to live it down, with what success I shall have presently to show.
+
+When I went out after breakfast the next morning, Barnjum's ghost insisted upon coming too, and followed me, to my intense annoyance, all down St. James's Street; in fact, for many weeks it was almost constantly by my side, and rendered me the innocent victim of mingled curiosity and aversion.
+
+I thought it best to affect to be unaware of the presence of anything of a ghostly nature, and when taxed with it, ascribed it to the diseased fancy of my interlocutor; but, by-and-by, as the whole town began to ring with the story, I found it impossible to pretend ignorance any longer.
+
+So I gave out that it was an artfully-contrived piece of spectral mechanism, of which I was the inventor, and for which I contemplated taking out a patent; and this would have earned for me a high reputation in the scientific world if Messrs. Maskelyne and Cooke had not grown envious of my fame, declaring that they had long since anticipated the secret of my machine, and could manufacture one in every way superior to it, which they presently did.
+
+Then I was obliged to confide (in the strictest secrecy) to two members of the Peerage (both persons of irreproachable breeding, with whom I was at that time exceedingly intimate) that it was indeed a bonâ fide apparition, and that I rather liked such things about me. I cannot explain how it happened, but in a very short time the story had gone the round of the clubs and drawing-rooms, and I found myself launched as a lion of the largest size -- if it is strictly correct to speak of launching a lion.
+
+I received invitations everywhere, on the tacit understanding that I was to bring my ghost, and the wraith of Barnjum, as some who read this may remember, was to be seen at all the best houses in town for the remainder of the season; while in the following autumn, I was asked down for the shooting by several wealthy parvenus, with a secret hope, unless I am greatly mistaken, that the ghost might conceive the idea of remaining with them permanently, thereby imparting to their brand-new palaces the necessary flavour of legend and mystery; but of course it never did.
+
+To tell the truth, whatever novelty there was about it soon wore off -- too soon, in fact, for, fickle as society is, I have no hesitation in asserting that we ought to have lasted it at least a second season, if only Barnjum's ghost had not persisted in making itself so ridiculously cheap that, in little more than a fortnight, society was as sick of it as I was myself.
+
+And then the inconveniences which attached to my situation began to assert themselves more and more emphatically.
+
+I began to stay at home sometimes in the evening, when I observed that the phantom had an unpleasant trick of illuminating itself at the approach of darkness with a bilious green light, which, as it was not nearly strong enough to enable me to dispense with a reading lamp, merely served to depress me.
+
+And then it began to absent itself occasionally for days together, and though at first I was rather glad not to see so much of it, I grew uneasy at last. I was always fancying that the Psychical Society, who are credited with understanding the proper treatment of spectres in health and disease, from the tomb upwards, might have got hold of it and be teaching it to talk and compromise me. I heard afterwards that one of their most prominent members did happen to come across it, but, with a scepticism which I cannot but think was somewhat wanting in discernment, rejected it as a palpable imposition.
+
+I had to leave the rooms where I had been so comfortable, for my landlady complained that the street was blocked up by a mob of the lowest description from seven till twelve every evening, and she really could not put up with it any longer.
+
+On inquiry I found that this was owing to Barnjum's ghost getting out upon the roof almost every night after dark, and playing the fool among the chimney-pots, causing me, as its apparent owner, to be indicted five times for committing a common nuisance by obstructing the thoroughfare, and once for collecting an unlawful assembly: I spent all my spare cash in fines.
+
+I believe there were portraits of us both in the 'Illustrated Police News,' but the distinction implied in this was more than outweighed by the fact that Barnjum's wraith was slowly but surely undermining both my fortune and my reputation.
+
+It followed me one day to one of the underground railway stations, and would get into a compartment with me, which led to a lawsuit that made a nine days' sensation in the legal world. I need only mention the celebrated case of 'The Metropolitan District Railway v. Bunting,' in which the important principle was once for all laid down that a railway company by the terms of its contract is entitled to refuse to carry ghosts, spectres, or any other supernatural baggage, and can moreover exact a heavy penalty from passengers who infringe its bye-laws in this respect.
+
+This was, of course, a decision against me, and carried heavy costs, which my private fortune was just sufficient to meet.
+
+But Barnjum's ghost was bent upon alienating me from society also, for at one of the best dances of the season, at a house where I had with infinite pains just succeeded in establishing a precarious footing, that miserable phantom disgraced me for ever by executing a shadowy but decidedly objectionable species of cancan between the dances!
+
+Feeling indirectly responsible for its behaviour, I apologised profusely to my hostess, but the affair found its way into the society journals, and she never either forgave or recognised me again.
+
+Shortly after that, the committee of my club (one of the most exclusive in London) invited me to resign, intimating that, by introducing an acquaintance of questionable antecedents and disreputable exterior into the smoking-room, I had abused the privileges of membership.
+
+I had been afraid of this when I saw it following me into the building, arrayed in Highland costume and a tall hat; but I was quite unable to drive it away.
+
+Up to that time I had been at the bar, where I was doing pretty well, but now no respectable firm of solicitors would employ a man who had such an unprofessional thing as a phantom about his chambers. I threw up my practice, and had no sooner changed my last sovereign than I was summoned for keeping a ghost without a licence!
+
+Some men, no doubt, would have given up there and then in despair -- but I am made of sterner stuff, and, besides, an idea had already occurred to me of turning the table upon my shadowy persecutor.
+
+Barnjum's ghost had ruined me: why should I not endeavour to turn an honest penny out of Barnjum's ghost? It was genuine -- as I well knew; it was, in some respects, original; it was eminently calculated to delight the young and instruct the old; there was even a moral or two to be got out of it, and though it had long failed to attract in town, I saw no reason why it should not make a great hit in the provinces.
+
+I borrowed the necessary funds and had soon made all preliminary arrangements for running the wraith of Barnjum on a short tour in the provinces, deciding to open at Tenby, in South Wales.
+
+I took every precaution, travelling by night and keeping within doors all day, lest the shade (which was deplorably destitute of the commonest professional pride) should get about and exhibit itself beforehand for nothing; and so successful was I, that when it first burst upon a Welsh audience, from the platform of the Assembly Rooms, Tenby, no ghost could have wished for a more enthusiastic reception, and -- for the first and last time -- I felt positively proud of it!
+
+But the applause gradually subsided, and was succeeded by an awkward pause. It had not struck me till that moment that it would be necessary to do or say anything in particular during the exhibition, beyond showing the spectators round the phantom, and making the customary assurance that there was no deception and no concealed machinery, which I could do with a clear conscience. But a terrible conviction struck me as I stood there bowing repeatedly, that the audience had come prepared for a comic duologue, with incidental music and dances.
+
+This was quite out of the question, even supposing that Barnjum's ghost would have helped me to entertain them, which, perhaps, I could scarcely expect. As it was, it did nothing at all, except grimace at the audience and make an idiotic fool of itself and me -- an exhibition of which they soon wearied. I am perfectly certain that an ordinary magic lantern would have made a far deeper impression upon them.
+
+Whether the wraith managed in some covert way, when my attention was diverted, to insult the national prejudices of that sensitive and hot-blooded nation, I cannot say. All I know is, that after sitting still for some time they suddenly rose as one man; chairs were hurled at me through the ghost, and the stage was completely wrecked before the audience could be induced to go away.
+
+It was all over. I was hopelessly ruined now! My weak fancy that even a spectre would have some remnants of common decency and good-feeling hanging about it, had put the finishing touch to my misfortunes!
+
+I paid for the smashed platform and windows with the money that had been taken at the doors, and then I travelled back to London, third class, that night, with the feeling that everything was against me.
+
+* * * * *
+
+It was Christmas, and I was sitting gloomily in my shabby Bloomsbury lodgings, watching with a miserable, apathetic interest Barnjum's wraith as, clad in a Roman toga, topboots, and a turban, it flitted about the horsehair furniture.
+
+I was wondering if they would admit me into any workhouse while the spectre continued my attendant; I was utterly and completely wretched, and now, for the first time, I really repented my conduct in having parted with Barnjum so abruptly by the bleak cliff side, that bright June morning.
+
+I had heard no more of him -- I knew he must have reached the bottom after his fall, because I heard the splash he made -- but no tidings had come of the discovery of his body; the lake kept its dark secret well.
+
+If I could only hope that this insidious shade, now that it had hounded me down to poverty, would consider this as a sufficient expiation of my error and go away and leave me in peace! But I felt, only too keenly, that it was one of those one-idea'd apparitions, which never know when they have had enough of a good thing -- it would be sure to stay and see the very last of me!
+
+All at once there came a sharp tap at my door, and another figure strode solemnly in. This, too, wore the semblance of Barnjum, but was cast in a more substantial mould, and possessed the power of speech, as I gathered from its addressing me instantly as a cowardly villain.
+
+I started back, and stood behind an arm-chair, facing those two forms, the shadow and the solid, with a feeling of sick despair. 'Listen to me,' I said, 'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'
+
+There was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.
+
+'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'
+
+'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'
+
+He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'
+
+'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'
+
+Will it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'
+
+'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '
+
+'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'
+
+'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'
+
+'No, I don't,' he said.
+
+I determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'
+
+But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.
+
+'Do,' I implored him; 'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'
+
+Still he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was 'Silver Threads among the Gold,' or 'In the Sweet By-and-By' -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.
+
+'You don't deserve it,' he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'
+
+It wavered for an instant, and then, to my joy, it suddenly 'gave' all over, and, shrivelling up into a sort of cobweb, was drawn by the draught into the fireplace, and carried up the chimney, and I never saw it again.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Barnjum's escape was very simple; he had fallen upon one of the herring-boats in the lake, and the heap of freshly-caught fish lying on the deck had merely broken his fall instead of his neck. As soon as he had recovered from the effects, he was called away from this country upon urgent business, and found himself unable to return for months.
+
+But to this day the appearance of the wraith is a mystery to me. If Barnjum had been the kind of man to be an 'esoteric Buddhist,' it might be accounted for as an 'astral shape'; but esoteric Buddhism requires an exemplary character and years of abstract meditation -- both of which conditions were far beyond Barnjum's attainment.
+
+The shape may have been one of those subtle emanations which we are told some people are constantly shedding, like the coats of an onion, and which certain conditions of the atmosphere, and the extreme activity of Barnjum's mind under sudden excitement, possibly contributed to materialise in this particular instance.
+
+Or, perhaps, it was merely a caprice of one of those vagrant Poltergeists, or supernatural buffoons, which took upon itself, very officiously, the duty of avenging my behaviour to Barnjum.
+
+Upon one point I am clear: the whole of this system of deliberate persecution being undertaken directly on Barnjum's account, he is morally and legally bound to reimburse me for the heavy expense and damage which have resulted therefrom.
+
+Hitherto I have been unable to impress Barnjum with this principle, and so my wrongs are still without redress.
+
+I may be asked why I do not make them the basis of an action at law; but persons of any refinement will understand my reluctance to resort to legal proceedings against one with whom I have at least lived on a footing of friendship. I would fain persuade, and shrink from appealing to force; and, besides, I have not succeeded as yet in persuading any solicitor -- even a shady one -- to take up my case.
+
+A TOY TRAGEDY.
+
+A STORY FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: T]
+
+This story is mostly about dolls, and I am afraid that all boys, and a good many girls who have tried hard to forget that they ever had dolls, will not care about hearing it. Still, as I have been very careful to warn them at the very beginning, they must not blame me if they read on and find that it does not interest them.
+
+It was after dark, and the criss-cross shadows of the high wire-fender were starting in and out on the walls and ceiling of Winifred's nursery in the flickering firelight, and Winifred's last new doll Ethelinda was sitting on the top of a chest of drawers, leaning back languidly against the wall.
+
+Ethelinda was a particularly handsome doll; she had soft thick golden hair, arranged in the latest fashion, full blue eyes, with rather more expression in them than dolls' eyes generally have, a rose-leaf complexion, the least little haughty curl on her red lips, and a costume that came direct from Paris.
+
+She ought to have been happy with all these advantages, and yet she was plainly dissatisfied; she looked disgustedly at all around her, at the coloured pictures from the illustrated papers on the walls, the staring red dolls' house, the big Noah's ark on the shelf, and the dingy dappled rocking-horse in the corner -- she despised them all.
+
+'I do wish I was back in Regent Street again,' she sighed aloud.
+
+There was another doll sitting quite close to her, but Ethelinda had not made the remark to him, as he did not seem at all the sort of person to be encouraged.
+
+He was certainly odd-looking: his head was a little too big for his body, and his body was very much too big for his legs; he had fuzzy white hair, and a face which was rather like Punch's only with all the fun taken out of it.
+
+When anyone pinched him in the chest hard, he squeaked and shut his eyes, as if it hurt him -- and very likely it did. He wore a tawdry jester's dress of red and blue, and once he had even carried a cymbal in each hand and clapped them together every time they made him squeak; but he had always disliked being obliged to make so much noise, for he was of a quiet and retiring nature, and so he had got rid of his unmusical instruments as soon as he could.
+
+Still, even without the cymbals, his appearance was hardly respectable, and Ethelinda was a little annoyed to find him so near her, though he never guessed her feelings, which was fortunate for him, for he had fallen in love with her.
+
+Since he first entered the nursery he had had a good deal of knocking about, but his life there had begun to seem easier to put up with from the moment she formed part of it.
+
+He had never dared to speak to her before, she had never given him the chance; and besides, it was quite enough for him to look at her; but now he thought she meant to be friendly and begin a conversation.
+
+'Are you very dull here then?' he asked rather nervously.
+
+Ethelinda stared at first; no one had introduced him, and she felt very much inclined to take no notice; however, she thought after her long silence that it might amuse her to talk to somebody, even if it was only a shabby common creature like this jester.
+
+So she said, 'Dull! You were never in Regent Street, or you wouldn't ask such a question.'
+
+'I came from the Lowther Arcade,' he said.
+
+'Oh, really?' drawled Ethelinda; 'then, of course, this would be quite a pleasant change for you.'
+
+'I don't know,' he said; 'I liked the Arcade. It was so lively; a little noisy perhaps -- too much top spinning, and pop-gunning, and mouth-organ playing all round one -- but very cheerful. Yes, I liked the Arcade.'
+
+'Very mixed the society there, isn't it?' she asked; 'aren't you expected to know penny things?'
+
+'Well, there were a good many penny things there,' he owned, 'and very amusing they were. There was a wooden bird there that used to duck his head and wag his tail when they swung a weight underneath -- he would have made you laugh so!'
+
+'I hope,' said Ethelinda freezingly, 'I should never so far forget myself as to laugh under any circumstances -- and certainly not at a penny thing!'
+
+'I wonder how much he cost?' she thought; 'not very much, I can see from his manner. But perhaps I can get him to tell me. Do you remember,' she asked aloud, 'what was the -- ah -- the premium they asked for introducing you here -- did you happen to catch the amount?
+
+'Do you mean my price?' he said; 'oh, elevenpence three farthings -- it was on the ticket.'
+
+'What a vulgar creature!' thought Ethelinda; 'I shall really have to drop him.'
+
+'Dear me,' she said,'that sounds very reasonable, very moderate indeed; but perhaps you were "reduced"?' for she thought he would be more bearable if he had cost a little more once.
+
+'I don't think so,' he said; 'that's the fair selling price.'
+
+'Well, that's very curious,' said she, 'because the young man at Regent Street (a most charming person, by the way) positively wouldn't part with me under thirty-five shillings, and he said so many delightful things about me that I feel quite sorry for him sometimes, when I think how he must be missing me. But then, very likely he's saying the same thing about some other doll now!'
+
+'I suppose he is,' said the jester (he had seen something of toy-selling in his time); 'it's his business, you know.'
+
+'I don't see how you can possibly tell,' said Ethelinda, who had not expected him to agree with her; 'the Lowther Arcade is not Regent Street.'
+
+The jester did not care to dispute this. 'And were you very happy at Regent Street?' he asked.
+
+'Happy?' she repeated. 'Well, I don't know; at least, one was not bored there. I was in the best set, you see, the two-guinea one, and they were always getting up something to amuse us in the window -- a review, or a sham fight, or a garden-party, or something. Last winter they gave us a fancy-dress ball -- I went as Mary Stuart, and was very much admired. But here -- -- ' and she finished the sentence with a disdainful little shrug.
+
+'I don't think you'll find it so very bad here, when you get a little more used to it,' he said; 'our mistress -- -- '
+
+'Pray don't use that very unpleasant word,' she interrupted sharply. 'Did you never hear of "dolls' rights?" We call these people "hostesses."'
+
+'Well, our hostess, then -- Winifred, she's not unkind. She doesn't care much about me, and that cousin of hers, Master Archie, gives me a bad time of it when I come in his way, but really she's very polite and attentive to you.'
+
+'Polite and attentive!' sneered Ethelinda (and if you have never seen a doll sneer, you can have no idea how alarming it is). 'I don't call it an attention to be treated like a baby by a little chit of a girl who can't dress herself properly yet -- no style, no elegance, and actually a pinafore in the mornings!'
+
+This is the way some of these costly lady dolls talk about their benefactresses when the gas is out and they think no one overhears them. I don't know whether the plain old-fashioned ones, who are not so carefully treated, but often more tenderly loved, are as bad; but it is impossible to say -- dolls are exceedingly artful, and there are persons, quite clever in other things, who will tell you honestly that they do not understand them in the least.
+
+'Then the society here,' Ethelinda went on, without much consideration for the other's feelings -- perhaps she thought he was too cheap to have any -- 'it's really something too dreadful for words. Why, those people in the poky little house over there, with only four rooms and a front door they can't open, have never had the decency to call upon me. Not that I should take any notice, of course, if they did, but it just shows what they are. And the other day I actually overheard one frightful creature in a print dress, with nothing on her head but a great tin-tack, ask another horror "which she liked best -- make-believe tea or orange-juice!"'
+
+'Well, I prefer make-believe tea myself,' said the jester, 'because, you see, I can't get the orange-juice down, and so it's rather bad for the dress and complexion.'
+
+'Possibly,' she said scornfully. 'I'm thankful to say I've not been called upon to try it myself -- even Miss Winifred knows better than that. But, anyhow, it's horribly insipid here, and I suppose it will be like this always now. I did hope once that when I went out into the world I should be a heroine and have a romance of my own.'
+
+'What is a romance?' he asked.
+
+'I thought you wouldn't understand me,' she said; 'a romance is -- well, there's champagne in it, and cigarettes, to begin with.'
+
+'But what is champagne?' he interrupted.
+
+'Something you drink,' she said; 'what else could it be?'
+
+'I see,' he said; 'a sort of orange-juice.'
+
+'Orange-juice!' Ethelinda cried contemptuously; 'it's not in the least like orange-juice; it's -- -- ' (she didn't know what it was made of herself, but there was no use in telling him so) 'I couldn't make you understand without too much trouble, you really are so very ignorant, but there's a good deal of it in romances. And dukes, and guardsmen, and being very beautiful and deliciously miserable, till just before the end -- that's a romance! My milliner used to have it read out to her while she was dressing me for that ball I told you about.'
+
+'Do you mind telling me what a heroine is?' he asked. 'I know I'm very stupid.'
+
+'A heroine? oh, any doll can be a heroine. I felt all the time the heroines were all just like me. They were either very good or very wicked, and I'm sure I could be the one or the other if I got the chance. I think it would be more amusing, perhaps, to be a little wicked, but then it's not quite so easy, you know.'
+
+'I should think it would be more uncomfortable,' he suggested.
+
+'Ah, but then you see you haven't any sentiment about you,' she said disparagingly.
+
+'No,' he admitted, 'I'm afraid I haven't. I suppose they couldn't put it in for elevenpence three farthings.'
+
+'I should think not,' Ethelinda observed, 'it's very expensive.' And then, after a short silence, she said more confidentially, 'you were talking of Master Archie just now. I rather like that boy, do you know. I believe I could make something of him if he would only let me.'
+
+'He's a mischievous boy,' said the jester, 'and ill-natured too.'
+
+'Yes, isn't he?' she agreed admiringly; 'I like him for that. I fancy a duke or a guardsman must be something like him; they all had just his wicked black eyes and long restless fingers. It wouldn't be quite so dull if he would notice me a little; but he never will!'
+
+'He's going back to school next week,' the jester said rather cheerfully.
+
+'So soon!' sighed Ethelinda. 'There's hardly time for him to make a real heroine of me before that. How I wish he would! I shouldn't care how he did it, or what came of it. I'm sure I should enjoy it, and it would give me something to think about all my life.'
+
+'Say that again, my dainty little lady; say it again!' cried a harsh, jeering voice from beside them, 'and, if you really mean it, perhaps the old Sausage-Glutton can manage it for you. He's done more wonderful things than that in his time, I can tell you.'
+
+The voice came from an old German clock which stood on the mantelpiece, or rather, from a strange painted wooden figure which was part of it -- an ugly old man, who sat on the top with a plate of sausages on his knees, and a fork in one hand. Every minute he slowly forked up a sausage from the plate to his mouth, and swallowed it suddenly, while his lower jaw wagged, and his narrow eyes rolled as it went down in a truly horrible manner.
+
+The children had long since given him the name of 'Sausage-Glutton,' which he richly deserved. He was a sort of magician in his way, having so much clockwork in his inside, and he was spiteful and malicious, owing to the quantity of wooden sausages he bolted, which would have ruined anyone's digestion and temper.
+
+'Good gracious!' cried Ethelinda, with a start, 'who is that person?'
+
+'Somebody who can be a good kind friend to you, pretty lady, if you only give him leave. So you want some excitement here, do you? You want to be wicked, and interesting, and unfortunate, and all the rest of it, eh? And you'd like young Archibald (a nice boy that, by the way), you'd like him to give you a little romance? Well, then, he shall, and to-morrow too, hot and strong, if you like to say the word.'
+
+Ethelinda was too much fluttered to speak at first, and she was a little afraid of the old man, too, for he leered all round in such an odd way, and ate so fast and jerkily.
+
+'Don't -- oh, please don't!' cried a little squeaky voice above him. It came from a queer little angular doll, with gold-paper wings, a spangled muslin dress, and a wand with a tinsel star at the end of it, who was fastened up on the wall above a picture. 'You won't like it -- you won't, really!'
+
+'Don't trust him,' whispered the jester; 'he's a bad old man; he ruined a very promising young dancing nigger only the other day, unhinged him so that he will never hook on any more.'
+
+'Ha, ha!' laughed the Sausage-Glutton, as he disposed of another sausage, 'that old fellow in the peculiar coat is jealous, you know; he can't make a heroine of you, and so he doesn't want anyone else to. Who cares what he says? And as for our little wooden friend up above, well, I should hope a dainty duchess like you is not going to let herself be dictated to by a low jointed creature, who sets up for a fairy when she knows her sisters dance round white hats every Derby Day.'
+
+'They're not sisters; they're second cousins,' squeaked the poor Dutch doll, very much hurt, 'and they don't mean any harm by it; it's only their high spirits. And whatever you say, I'm a fairy. I had a Christmas-tree of my own once; but I had to leave it, it was so expensive to keep up. Now, you take my advice, my dear, do,' she added to Ethelinda, 'don't you listen to him. He'd give all his sausages to see you in trouble, he would; but he can't do anything unless you give him leave.'
+
+But of course it would have been a little too absurd if Ethelinda had taken advice from a flat-headed twopenny doll and a flabby jester from the Lowther Arcade. 'My good creatures,' she said to them, 'you mean well, no doubt, but pray leave this gentleman and me to settle our own affairs. Can you really get Master Archie to take some notice of me, sir?' she said to the figure on the clock.
+
+'I can, my loveliest,' he said.
+
+'And will it be exciting,' she asked, 'and romantic, and -- and just the least bit wicked, too?'
+
+'You shall be the very wickedest heroine in any nursery in the world,' he replied. 'Oh, dear me, how you will enjoy yourself!'
+
+'Then I accept,' said Ethelinda; 'I put myself quite in your hands -- I leave everything to you.'
+
+'That's right!' cried the Sausage-Glutton, 'that's a brave little beauty. It's a bargain, then? To-morrow afternoon the fun will begin, and then -- my springs and wheels -- what a time you will have of it! He, he! You look out for Archibald!'
+
+And then he trembled all over as the clock struck twelve, and went on eating his sausages without another word, while Ethelinda gave herself up to delightful anticipations of the wonderful adventures that were actually about to happen to her at last.
+
+But the jester felt very uneasy about it all; he felt so sure that the old Sausage-Glutton's amiability had some trickery underneath it.
+
+'You are a fairy, aren't you?' he said to the Dutch doll in a whisper; 'can't you do anything to help her?'
+
+'No,' she said sulkily; 'and if I could, I wouldn't. She has chosen to put herself in his power, and whatever comes of it will serve her right. I don't know what he means to do, and I can't stop him. Still, if I can't help her, I can help you; and you may want it, because he is sure to be angry with you for trying to warn her.'
+
+'But I never gave him leave to meddle with me,' said the jester.
+
+'Have you got sawdust or bran inside you, or what?' asked the fairy.
+
+'Neither,' he said; 'only the bellows I squeak with, and wire. But why?'
+
+'I was afraid so. It's only the dolls with sawdust or bran inside them that he can't do whatever he likes with without their consent. He can do anything he chooses with you; but he shan't hurt you this time, if you only take care -- for I'll grant you the very next thing you wish. Only do be careful now about wishing; don't be in a hurry and waste the wish. Wait till things are at their very worst.'
+
+'Thank you very much,' he said; 'I don't mind for myself so much, but I should like to prevent any harm from coming to her. I'll remember.'
+
+Then he bent towards Ethelinda and whispered: 'You didn't believe what the old man on the clock told you about me, did you? I'm not jealous -- I'm only a poor jester, and you're a great lady. But you'll let me sit by you, and you'll talk to me sometimes in the evenings as you did to-night, won't you?'
+
+But Ethelinda, though she heard him plainly, pretended to be fast asleep -- it was of no consequence to her whether he was jealous or not.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Winifred was sitting the next afternoon alone in her nursery, trying to play. She was a dear little girl about nine years old, with long, soft, brown hair, a straight little nose, and brown eyes which just then had a wistful, dissatisfied look in them -- for the fact was that, for some reason or other, she could not get on with her dolls at all.
+
+The jester was not good-looking enough for her; they had put his eyes in so carelessly, and his face had such a 'queer' look, and he was altogether a limp, unmanageable person. She always said to herself that she liked him 'for the sake of the giver,' poor clumsy, good-hearted Martha, the housemaid, who had left in disgrace, and presented him as her parting gift; but one might as well not be cared for at all as be liked in that roundabout way.
+
+And Ethelinda, beautiful and fashionable as she was, was not friendly, and Winifred never could get intimate with her; she felt afraid to treat her as a small child younger than herself, it seemed almost a liberty to nurse her, for Ethelinda seemed to be quite grown up and to know far more than she did herself.
+
+She sat there looking at Ethelinda, and Ethelinda stared back at her in a cold, distant way, as if she half remembered meeting her somewhere before. There was a fixed smile on her vermilion lips which seemed false and even a little contemptuous to poor lonely little Winifred, who thought it was hard that her own doll should despise her.
+
+The jester's smile was amiable enough, though it was rather meaningless, but then no one cared about him or how he smiled, as he lay unnoticed on his back in the corner.
+
+You would not have guessed it from their faces, but both dolls were really very much excited; each was thinking about the Sausage-Glutton and his vague promises, and wondering if, and how, those promises were to be carried out.
+
+The wooden magician himself was bolting his sausage a minute on the top of the clock just as usual, only the jester fancied his cunning eyes rolled round at them with a peculiar leer as a cheerful whistle was heard on the stairs outside.
+
+A moment afterwards a lively brown-faced boy in sailor dress put his head in at the door. 'Hullo, Winnie,' he said, 'are you all alone?'
+
+'Nurse has gone downstairs,' said Winnie, plaintively; 'I've got the dolls, but it's dull here somehow. Can't you come and help me to play, Archie?'
+
+Archie had been skating all the morning, and could not settle down just then to any of his favourite books, so he had come up to see Winnie with the idea of finding something to amuse him there -- for though he was a boy, he did unbend at times, so far as to help her in her games, out of which he managed to get a good deal of amusement in his own peculiar way.
+
+But of course he had to make a favour of it, and must not let Winifred see that it was anything but a sacrifice for him to consent.
+
+'I've got other things to do,' he said; 'and you know you always make a fuss when I do play with you. Look at last time!'
+
+'Ah, but then you played at being a slave-driver, Archie, and you made me sell you my old black Dinah for a slave, and then you tied her up and whipped her. I didn't like that game! But if you'll stay this time, I won't mind what else you do!'
+
+For Archie had a way of making the dolls go through exciting adventures, at which Winifred assisted with a fearful wonder that had a fascination about it.
+
+'Girls don't know how to play with dolls, and that's a fact,' said Archie. 'I could get more fun out of that dolls' house than a dozen girls could' (he would have set fire to it); 'but I tell you what: if you'll let me do exactly what I like, and don't go interfering, except when I tell you to, perhaps I will stay a little while -- not long, you know.'
+
+'I promise,' said Winifred, 'if you won't break anything. I'll do just what you tell me.'
+
+'Very well then, here goes; let's see who you've got. I say, who's this in the swell dress?'
+
+He was pointing to Ethelinda, whose brain began to tingle at once with a delicious excitement. 'He has noticed me at last,' she thought; 'I wonder if I could make him fall desperately in love with me!' and she turned her big blue eyes full upon him. 'Ah, if I could only speak -- but perhaps I shall presently. I'm quite sure the romance is going to begin!'
+
+'That's Ethelinda, Archie -- isn't she pretty?'
+
+'I've seen them uglier,' he said; 'she's like that Eve de Something we saw at Drury Lane -- we'll have her, and there's that chap in the fool's dress, we may want him. Now we're ready.'
+
+'What are you going to do with them, Archie?'
+
+'You leave that to me. I've an idea, something much better than your silly tea-parties.'
+
+'Why doesn't he tell that child to go?' thought Ethelinda, 'we don't want her!'
+
+'Now listen, Winifred,' said Archie: 'this is the game. You're a beautiful queen (only do sit up and take that finger out of your mouth -- queens don't do that). Well, and I'm the king, and this is your maid of honour, the beautiful Lady Ethelinda, see?'
+
+'Go on, Archie; I see,' cried Winifred; 'and I like it so far.'
+
+'I think I ought to have been the queen!' said Ethelinda to herself.
+
+'Well, now,' said the boy, 'I'll tell you something. This maid of honour of yours doesn't like you (don't say she does, now; I'm telling this, and I know). You watch her carefully. Can't you see a sort of look in her face as if she didn't think much of you?'
+
+'How clever he is,' thought Ethelinda; 'he knows exactly how I feel!'
+
+'Do you really think it's that, Archie?' said Winifred; 'it's just what I was afraid of before you came in.'
+
+'That's it. Look out for a kind of glare in her eye when I pay you any attention. (How does Your Majesty do? Well, I hope.) There, didn't you see it? Well, that's jealousy, that is. She hates you like anything!'
+
+'I'm sure she doesn't, then,' protested Winifred.
+
+'Oh, well, if you know better than I do, you can finish it for yourself. I'm going.'
+
+'No, no; do stay. I like it. I'll be good after this!'
+
+'Don't you interrupt again, then. Now the real truth is that she'd like to be queen instead of you; she's ambitious, you know -- that's what's the matter with her. And so she's got it into her head that if you were only out of the way, I should ask her to be the next queen!'
+
+Winifred could not say a word, she was so overcome by the idea of her doll's unkindness; and Archie took Ethelinda by the waist and brought her near her royal mistress as he said: 'Now you'll see how artful she is; she's coming to ask you if she may go out. Listen. "Please, Your Gracious Majesty, may I go out for a little while?"'
+
+'This is even better than if I spoke myself,' Ethelinda thought; 'he can talk for me, and I do believe I'm going to be quite wicked presently.'
+
+'Am I to speak to her, Archie?' Winifred asked, feeling a little nervous.
+
+'Of course you are. Go on; don't be silly; give her leave.'
+
+'Certainly, Ethelinda, if you wish it,' replied Winifred, with a happy recollection of her mother's manner on somewhat similar occasions, 'but I should like you to be in to prayers.'
+
+'A maid of honour isn't the same as a housemaid, you know,' said Archie; 'but never mind -- she's off. You don't see where she goes, of course.'
+
+'Yes I do,' said Winifred.
+
+'Ah, but not in the game; nobody does. She goes to the apothecary's -- here's the apothecary.' And he caught hold of the jester, who thought helplessly, 'I'm being brought into it now; I wish he'd let me alone -- I don't like it!' 'Well, so she says, "Oh, if you please, Mr. Apothecary, I want some arsenic to kill the royal blackbeetles with; not much -- a pound or two will be plenty." So he takes down a jar (here Archie got up and fetched a big bottle of citrate of magnesia from a cupboard), 'and he weighs it out, and wraps it up, and gives it to her. And he says, "You'll mind and be very careful with it, my lady. The dose is one pinch in a teaspoonful of treacle to each blackbeetle, the last thing at night; but it oughtn't to be left about in places." And so Lady Ethelinda takes it home and hides it.'
+
+'I've bought some poison now,' thought Ethelinda, immensely delighted, 'I am a wicked doll! How convenient it is to have it all done for one like this! I do hope he's going to make me give Winifred some of that stuff, to get her out of the way, and have the romance all to our two selves.'
+
+'Now you and I,' Archie continued, 'haven't the least idea of all this. But one day, the Court jester ('I was an apothecary just now,' thought the jester; 'it's really very confusing!') -- the Court jester comes up, looking very grave, and sneaks of her. The reason of that is that he's angry with her because she never will have anything to do with him, and he says that he's seen her folding up a powder in paper and writing on it, and he thought I ought to be told about it.' ('This is awful,' thought the jester. 'What will Ethelinda think of me for telling tales? and what has come to Ethelinda? It's all that miserable Sausage-Glutton's doing -- and I can't help myself!')
+
+'Well, I'm very much surprised of course,' said Archie; 'any king would be -- but I wait, and one day, when she has gone out for a holiday, the jester and I go to her desk and break it open.'
+
+'Oh, Archie,' objected the poor little Queen in despair, 'isn't that rather mean of you?'
+
+'Now look here, Winnie, I can't have this sort of thing every minute. For a gentleman, it might be rather mean, perhaps, but then I'm a king, and I've got a right to do it, and it's all for your sake, too -- so you can't say anything. Besides, it's the jester does it; I only look on. Well, and by-and-by,' said Archie, as he scribbled something laboriously on a piece of paper, 'by-and-by he finds this!'
+
+And with imposing gravity he handed Winifred a folded paper, on which she read with real terror and grief the alarming words -- 'Poisin for the Queen!'
+
+'There, what do you think of that?' he asked triumphantly; 'looks bad, doesn't it?'
+
+'Perhaps,' suggested the Queen feebly, 'perhaps it was only in fun?'
+
+'Fun -- there's not much fun about her! Now the guard' (here he used the bewildered jester once more) 'arrests her. Do you want to ask the prisoner any questions? -- you can if you like.'
+
+'You -- you didn't mean to poison me really, did you, Ethelinda dear?' said Winifred, who was taking it all very seriously, as she took most things. 'Archie, do make her say something!'
+
+'Why can't you answer when the Queen asks you a question, eh?' demanded Archie. 'No, she won't say a word; she'll only grin at you; you see she's quite hardened. There's only one thing that would make her confess,' he added cautiously, aware that he was on rather delicate ground, 'and that's the torture. I could make a beautiful rack, Winnie, if you didn't mind?'
+
+'Whatever she's done,' said the Queen, firmly, 'I'm not going to have her tortured! And I believe she's sorry inside and wants me to forgive her!'
+
+'Then why doesn't she say so?' said Archie. 'No, no, Winnie. Look here, this is a serious thing, you know; it won't do to pass it over; it's high treason, and she'll have to be tried.'
+
+'But I don't want her tried,' said Winifred.
+
+'Oh, very well then; I had better go downstairs again and read. The best part was all coming, but if you don't care, I'm sure I don't!'
+
+'Little idiot!' thought Ethelinda angrily, 'she'll spoil the whole thing; every heroine has to be tried!'
+
+But Winnie gave in, as she usually did, to Archie. 'Well, then, she shall be tried if you really think she ought to be, Archie; it won't hurt her though, will it?'
+
+'Of course it won't; it's all right. Now for the trial: here's the court, and here's a place for the judge' (he built it all up with books and bricks as he spoke); 'here's the dock -- stick Lady What's-her-name inside -- that's it. We must do without a jury, but I suppose we ought to have a judge; oh, this fellow will do for judge!'
+
+And he seized the jester and raised him to the Bench at once. The jester was more puzzled than ever. 'Now I'm a judge,' he thought, 'I shall have to try her; but I'm glad of it -- I'll let her off!'
+
+But unluckily he very soon found that he had no voice at all in the matter, except what Archie chose to lend him.
+
+'Oh, but Archie,' said Winifred, who was determined to defeat the ends of justice if she possibly could, 'can a jester be a judge?'
+
+'Why not?' said Archie; 'judges make jokes sometimes -- I've heard papa say so, and he's a barrister, and ought to know.'
+
+'But this one doesn't make real jokes!' persisted Winifred.
+
+'Who asked him to? Judges are not obliged to make jokes, Winnie. I believe you are trying to get her off, but I'm going to see justice done, I tell you. So now then, Lady Ethelinda, you are charged with high treason and trying to poison Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Winifred Gladys Robertson, by putting arsenic in Her Majesty's tea. Guilty or not guilty! Speak up!'
+
+'Not guilty!' put in Winifred quickly, thinking that would settle the whole trial comfortably. 'There, Archie, you can't say she didn't speak that time!'
+
+'Now, you have done it!' Archie said triumphantly. 'If she'd confessed, we might have shown mercy. Now we shall have to prove it, and if we do I'm sorry for her, that's all!'
+
+'If she says "Guilty, and she won't do it again!"' suggested Winifred.
+
+'It's too late for that now,' said Archie, who was not going to have his trial cut short in that way: 'no, we must prove it.'
+
+'But how are you going to prove it?'
+
+'You wait. I've been in court once or twice with papa, and seen him prove all sorts of things. First, we must have in the fellow who sold the poison -- the apothecary, you know. Oh, I say, though, I forgot that -- he's the judge; that won't do!'
+
+'Then you can't prove it after all -- I'm so glad!' cried the Queen, with her eyes sparkling.
+
+'One would think you rather liked being poisoned,' said Archie, in an offended tone.
+
+'I like magnesia, and it isn't poison, really -- it's medicine.'
+
+'It isn't magnesia now; it's arsenic; and she shan't get off like this. I'll call the apothecary's young man, he'll prove it (this brick is the apothecary's young man). There, he says it's all right; she did it right enough. Now for the sentence! (put a penwiper on the judge's head, will you, Winnie; it's solemner).'
+
+'What's a sentence?' asked Winifred, much disturbed at these ill-omened arrangements.
+
+'You'll see; this is the judge talking now: "Lady Ethelinda, you've been found guilty of very bad conduct; you've put arsenic in your beloved Queen's tea!"'
+
+'Why, I haven't had tea yet!' protested the Sovereign.
+
+"Her Majesty is respectfully ordered not to interrupt the judge when he's summing up; it puts him out. Well, as I was saying, Lady Ethelinda, I'm sorry to tell you that we shall have to cut your head off!"'
+
+'What have I done?' thought the jester; 'she'll think I'm in earnest; she'll never forgive me!'
+
+But Ethelinda was perfectly delighted, for not one of her heroines had ever been in such a romantic position as this. 'And of course,' she thought, 'it will all come right in the end; it always does.'
+
+Winifred, however, was terrified by the sternness of the court: 'Archie,' she cried, 'she mustn't have her head cut off.'
+
+'It will be all right, Winnie, if you will only leave it to me and not interfere. You promised not to interrupt, and yet you will keep on doing it!'
+
+Archie's head was full of executions just then, for he had been reading 'The Tower of London;' he had been artfully leading up to an execution from the very first, and he meant to have his own way.
+
+But first he amused himself by working upon Winifred's feelings, which was a bad habit of his on these occasions. To do him justice, he did not know how keenly she felt things, and how soon she forgot it was only pretence; it flattered him to see how easily he could make Winifred cry about nothing, and he never guessed what real pain he was giving her.
+
+'Winnie,' he began very dolefully, 'she's in prison now, languishing in her prison cell, and do you know, I rather think her heart's beginning to soften a little: she wants you to come and see her. You won't refuse her last request, Winnie, will you?'
+
+'As if I could!' cried Winifred, full of the tenderest compassion.
+
+'Very well then; this is the last meeting. "My dear kind mistress" (it's Ethelinda speaking to you now), "that I once loved so dearly in the happy days when I was innocent and good, I couldn't die till I had asked you to forgive me. Let your poor wicked maid-of-honour kiss your hand just once more as she used to do; tell her you forgive her about that arsenic." Now then, Winnie!'
+
+'I -- I can't, Archie!' sobbed Winifred, quite melted by this pathetic appeal.
+
+'If you don't, she'll think you're angry still, and won't forgive her,' said Archie. 'Just you listen; this is her now: "Won't you say one little word, Your Majesty; you might as well. When I'm gone and mouldering away in my felon's grave it will be too late then, and you'll be sorry. It's the last thing I shall ever ask you!"'
+
+'Oh, Ethelinda, darling, don't!' implored her Queen; 'don't go on talking in that dreadful way; I can't bear it. Archie, I must forgive her now!'
+
+'Oh yes, forgive her,' he said with approval; 'queens shouldn't sulk or bear malice.'
+
+'It's all right,' said Winifred briskly, as she dried her eyes; 'she's quite good again. Now let's play at something not quite so horrid!'
+
+'When we've done with this, we will; but it isn't half over yet; there's all the execution to come. It's the fatal day now, the dismal scaffold is erected' (here he made a rough platform and a neat little block with the books), 'the sheriff is mounting guard over it' (and Archie propped up the unfortunate jester against a workbox so that he overlooked the scaffold); 'the trembling criminal is brought out amidst the groans of the populace (groan, Winnie, can't you?)'
+
+'I shan't groan,' said Winnie, rebelliously; 'I'm a queen, not a populace. Archie, you won't really cut off her head, will you?'
+
+'Don't be a little duffer,' said he; 'the end is to be a surprise, so I can't tell you what it is till it comes. You've heard of pardons arriving just in time, haven't you? Very well then. Only I don't say one will arrive here, you know, I only say, wait!'
+
+'And now,' he went on, 'I'm not the King any longer, I'm the headsman; and -- and I say, Winnie, perhaps you'd better hide your face now; a queen wouldn't look on at the execution, really; at least a nice queen wouldn't!'
+
+So Winifred hid her face in her hands obediently, very glad to be spared even the pretence of an execution, and earnestly wishing Archie was near the end of this uncomfortable game.
+
+But Archie was just beginning to enjoy himself: 'The wretched woman,' he announced with immense unction, 'is led tottering to the block, and then the headsman, very respectfully, cuts off some of her beautiful golden hair, so that it shouldn't get in his way.'
+
+At this point I am sorry to say that Archie, in the wish to have everything as real as possible, actually did snip off a good part of Ethelinda's flossy curls. Luckily for him, his cousin was too conscientious and unsuspecting to peep through her fingers, and never imagined that the scissors she heard were really cutting anything -- she even kept her eyes shut while Archie hunted about the room for something, which he found out at last, and which was a sword in a red tin scabbard.
+
+Till then Archie was not quite sure what he really meant to do; at first he had fancied that it would be enough for him just to touch Ethelinda lightly with the sword, but now (whether the idea had been put in his head by the Sausage Glutton, or whether it had been there somewhere all the time) he began to think how easily the sharp blade would cleave Ethelinda's soft wax neck, and how he could hold up the severed head by the hair, just like the executioner in the pictures, and say solemnly, 'This is the head of a traitress!'
+
+He knew of course that it would get him into terrible trouble, and he ought to have known that it would be mean and cowardly of him to take advantage of his poor little cousin's trust in him to deceive her.
+
+But he did not stop to think of that; the temptation was too strong for him; he had gone so far in cutting off her hair that he might just as well cut off her head too.
+
+So that presently Ethelinda found herself lying helpless, with her hands tied behind her, and her close-cropped head placed on a thick book, while Archie stood over her with a cruel gleam in his eyes, and flourished a flashing sword.
+
+'I ought to be masked though,' he said suddenly, 'or I might be recognised -- executioners had to be masked. I'll tie a handkerchief over my eyes and that will have to do.'
+
+And when he had done this, he began to measure the distance with his eye, and to make some trial cuts to be quite sure of his aim, for he meant to get the utmost possible enjoyment out of it.
+
+Ethelinda began to be terribly frightened. Being a heroine was not nearly so pleasant as she had expected. It had cost her most of her beautiful hair already: was it going to cost her her head as well?
+
+Too late, she began to see how foolish she had been, and that even make-believe tea-parties were better than this. She longed to be held safe in tender-hearted little Winifred's arms.
+
+But Winifred's eyes were shut tight, and would not be opened till -- till all was over. Ethelinda could not move, could not cry out to her, she was quite helpless, and all the time the wicked old man on the clock went on steadily swallowing sausage after sausage, as if he had nothing at all to do with it!
+
+The jester was even more alarmed for Ethelinda than she was herself; he was quite certain that Winifred was being wickedly deceived, and that the pardon so cunningly suggested would never come.
+
+In another minute this dainty little lady, with the sweet blue eyes and disdainful smile, would be gone from him for ever; and there was no hope for her, -- none!
+
+And the bitterest thing about it was, that, although he was a great deal confused, as he very well might be, as to how it had all come about, he knew that in some way, he himself had taken part (or rather several parts) in bringing her to this shameful end, and the poor jester, innocent as he was, fancied that her big eyes had a calm scorn and reproach in them as she looked up at him sideways from the block.
+
+'What shall I do without her?' he thought; 'how can I bear it. Ah, I ought to be lying there -- not she. I wish I could take her place!'
+
+All this time Archie had been lingering -- he lingered so long that Winifred lost all patience. 'Do make haste, Archie,' she said, with a little shudder that shook the table. 'I can't bear it much longer; I shall have to open my eyes!'
+
+'It was only the mask got in my way,' he said. 'Now I'm ready. One, two, three!'
+
+And then there was a whistling swishing sound, followed by a heavy thud, and a flop.
+
+After that Archie very prudently made for the door. 'I -- I couldn't help it, really, Winnie,' he stammered, as she put her hands down with relief and looked about, rather dazzled at first by the sudden light. 'I'll save up and buy you another twice as pretty. And you know you said Ethelinda didn't seem to care about you!'
+
+'Stop, Archie, what do you mean? Did you think you'd cut her head off really!'
+
+'Haven't I?' said Archie, stupidly. 'I cut something's head off; I saw it go!'
+
+'Then you did mean it! And, oh, it's the jester! I wouldn't have minded it so much, if you hadn't meant it for Ethelinda! And, Archie, you cruel, bad boy -- you've cut -- cut all her beautiful hair off, and I sat here and let you! She's not pretty at all now -- it's a shame, it is a shame!'
+
+Ethelinda had had a wonderful escape, and this is how it had happened:
+
+The jester had been so anxious about Ethelinda that he had forgotten all about the fairy, and how she had granted him his very next wish; but she, being a fairy, had to remember it. If he had only thought of it, it would have been just as easy to wish Ethelinda safe without any harm coming to himself, but he had wished 'to take her place,' and the fairy, whether she liked it or not, was obliged to keep her promise.
+
+So the little shake which Winifred had given the table was enough to make Ethelinda roll quietly over the edge of the platform, and the jester, who never was very firm on his legs, fall forward on his face the next moment, exactly where she had lain -- and either the fairy or the handkerchief over his face prevented Archie from finding out the exchange in time.
+
+Archie tried to defend himself: 'I think she looks better with her hair cut short,' he said; 'lots of girls wear it like that. And, don't you see, Winnie, this has been a plot got up by the jester; Ethelinda was innocent all the time, and he's just nicely caught in his own trap.... That -- that's the surprise!'
+
+'I don't believe you one bit!' said Winifred. 'You had no business to cut even my jester's head off, but you meant to do much worse! I won't play with you any more, and I shan't forgive you till the very day you go back to school!'
+
+'But, Winnie,' protested Archie, looking rather sheepish and ashamed of himself.
+
+'Go away directly,' said Winnie, stamping her foot; 'I don't want to listen; leave me alone!'
+
+So Archie went, not sorry, now, that an accident had kept him from doing his worst, and feeling tolerably certain that he would be able to make his cousin relent long before the time she had fixed, while Winifred, left to herself again, was so absorbed in sobbing over Ethelinda's sad disfigurement, that she quite forgot to pick up the split halves of the jester's head which were lying on the nursery floor.
+
+* * * * *
+
+That night Ethelinda had the chest of drawers all to herself, and the old Sausage Glutton grinned savagely at her from the mantelpiece, for he was disappointed at the way in which his plans had turned out.
+
+'Good evening,' he began, with one of his nastiest sneers. 'And how are you after your little romance, eh? Master Archie very nearly had your pretty little empty head off -- but of course I couldn't allow that. I hope you enjoyed yourself?'
+
+'I did at first,' said Ethelinda; 'I got frightened afterwards, when I thought it wasn't going to end at all nicely. But did you notice how very wickedly that dreadful jester behaved to me -- it will be a warning to me against associating with such persons in future, and I assure you that there was something about him that made me shudder from the very first! I have heard terrible things about the dolls in the Lowther Arcade, and what can you expect at such prices? Well, he's rewarded for his crimes, and that's a comfort to think of -- but it has all upset me very much indeed, and I don't want any more romance -- it does shorten the hair so!'
+
+The Dutch fairy doll heard her and was very angry, for she knew of course why the jester had come to a tragic ending.
+
+'Shall I tell her now, and make her ashamed and sorry -- would she believe me? would she care? Perhaps not, but I must speak out some time -- only I had better wait till the clock has stopped. I can't bear her to talk about that poor jester in this way.'
+
+But it really did not matter to the jester, who could hear or feel nothing any more -- for they had thrown him into the dustbin, where, unless the dustcart has called since, he is lying still.
+
+AN UNDERGRADUATE'S AUNT.
+
+[Illustration: F]
+
+Francis Flushington belonged to a small college, and by becoming a member conferred upon it one of the few distinctions it could boast -- the possession of the very bashfulest man in the whole university.
+
+But his college did not treat him with any excess of adulation on that account, and, probably from a prudent fear of rubbing the bloom off his modesty, allowed him to blush unseen -- which was indeed the condition in which he preferred to blush.
+
+He felt himself distressed in the presence of his fellow men, by a dearth of ideas and a difficulty in knowing which way to look, that made him happiest when he had fastened his outer door, and secured himself from all possibility of intrusion -- although this was almost an unnecessary precaution on his part, for nobody ever thought of coming to see Flushington.
+
+In appearance he was a man of middle height, with a long neck and a large head, which gave him the air of being shorter than he really was; he had little weak eyes which were always blinking, a nose and mouth of no particular shape, and hair of no definite colour, which he wore long -- not because he thought it becoming, but because he hated having to talk to his hairdresser.
+
+He had a timid deprecating manner, due to the consciousness that he was an uninteresting anomaly, and he certainly was as impervious to the ordinary influences of his surroundings as any modern under-graduate could well be.
+
+Flushington had never particularly wanted to be sent to Cambridge, and when he was there he did not enjoy it, and had not the faintest hope of distinguishing himself in anything; he lived a colourless, aimless sort of life in his little sloping rooms under the roof where he read every morning from nine till two with a superstitious regularity, even when his books failed to convey any ideas whatever to his brain, which was not a remarkably powerful organ.
+
+If the afternoon was fine, he generally sought out his one friend, who was a shade less shy than himself, and they went a monosyllabic walk together (for of course Flushington did not row, or take up athletics in any form); if it was wet, he read the papers and magazines at the Union, and in the evenings after hall, he studied 'general literature' -- a graceful periphrasis for novels -- or laboriously picked out a sonata or a nocturne upon his piano, a habit which had not tended to increase his popularity.
+
+Fortunately for Flushington, he had no gyp, or his life would have been a burden to him, and with his bedmaker he was rather a favourite, as a 'gentleman what gave no trouble' -- which meant that when he observed his sherry sinking like the water in a lock when the sluices are up, he was too delicate to refer to the phenomenon in any way.
+
+One afternoon when Flushington was engaged over his modest luncheon of bread and butter, potted meat, and lemonade, he suddenly became aware of a sound of unusual voices and a strange flutter of female dresses on the winding stone staircase outside -- and was instantly overcome with a cold dread.
+
+Now, although there were certainly ladies coming upstairs, there was no reason for alarm; they were probably friends of the man who kept opposite, and was always having his people up. But Flushington had one of those odd presentiments, so familiar to nervous persons, that something unpleasant was at hand; he could not imagine who these ladies might be, but he knew instinctively that they were coming to him!
+
+If he could only be sure that his outer oak was safely latched! He rose from his chair with wild ideas of rushing to see, of retreating to his bedroom, and hiding under the bed until they had gone.
+
+Too late! the dresses were rustling now in his very passage; there was a pause evidently before his inner door, a few faint and smothered laughs, some little feminine coughs, then -- two taps.
+
+Flushington stood still for a moment, feeling like a caged animal; he had thoughts, even then, of concealment -- was there time to get under the sofa? No, it would be too dreadful if the visitors, whoever they were, were to discover him in so unusual a situation.
+
+So he ran back to his chair and sat down before crying 'Come in' in a faint voice. He did wish he had been reading anything but the work of M. Zola, which was propped up in front of him, but there was no time to put it away.
+
+Your mild man often has a taste for seeing the less reputable side of life in a safe and second-hand way, and Flushington would toil manfully through the most realistic descriptions without turning a hair; now and then he looked out a word in the dictionary, and when it was not to be found there -- and it generally wasn't -- he had a sense almost of injury. But there was a strong fascination for him in experiencing the sensation of a kind of intellectual orgie, for he knew enough of the language to be aware that the incidents frequently bordered on the improper, even while it was not exactly clear in what the impropriety consisted.
+
+As he said 'Come in,' the door opened, and his heart seemed to stop, and all the blood in it rushed violently up to his head, as a large lady came sweeping in, her face rippling with a broad smile of affection.
+
+She horrified Flushington, who knew nobody with the smallest claim to smile at him so expansively as that, and he drank lemonade to conceal his confusion.
+
+'You don't know me, my dear Frank,' she said easily; 'why of course you don't; how should you? Well, I'm (for goodness sake, my dear boy, don't look so dreadfully frightened, I don't want to eat you!) I'm your aunt -- your Aunt Amelia, you know me now -- from Australia, you know!'
+
+This was a severe shock to Flushington, who had not even known he possessed such a relative anywhere; all he could say just then was, 'Oh, are you?' which he felt at the time was not quite the welcome to give an aunt who had come all the way from the Antipodes.
+
+'Yes, that I am!' she said cheerily, 'but that's not all. I've another surprise for you -- the dear girls would insist upon coming up too, to see their grand college cousin; they're just outside. I'll call them in, shall I?'
+
+And in another second Flushington's small room was overrun by a horde of female relatives, while he could only look on and gasp.
+
+They were pretty girls too, most of them, but that only frightened him more; he did not mind plain women half so much; some of them looked bright and clever as well, and a combination of beauty and intellect always reduced him to a condition of hopeless imbecility.
+
+He had never forgotten one occasion on which he had been captured and introduced to a charming young lady from Newnham, and all he could do was to back feebly into a corner, murmuring 'Thank you' repeatedly.
+
+He showed himself to scarcely more advantage now, as his aunt proceeded to single out one girl after another. 'We needn't have any formal nonsense between cousins,' she said; 'you know all their names already, I dare say. This is Milly, and that's Jane; and here's Flora, and Kitty, and Margaret, and this is my little Thomasina, keeping close to mamma, as usual.'
+
+Poor Flushington ducked blindly in the various directions at the mention of each name, and then collectively to all; he had not sufficient presence of mind to offer them chairs, or cake, or anything, and besides, there was not nearly enough for that multitude.
+
+Meanwhile his aunt had spread herself comfortably out in his only arm-chair, and was untying her bonnet-strings, while she beamed at him until he was ready to expire with embarrassment. 'I do think, Frankie dear,' she observed at last, 'that when an old auntie all the way from Australia takes the trouble to come and see you like this, the least -- the very least you could do would be to give her one little kiss.'
+
+She seemed so hurt by the omission, that Flushington dared not refuse; he staggered up and kissed her somewhere upon her face -- after which he did not know which way to look, so terribly afraid was he that the same ceremony might have to be gone through with all the cousins, and he could not have survived that.
+
+Happily for him, however, they did not appear to expect it, and he balanced a chair on its hind legs and, resting one knee upon it, waited for them to begin a conversation, for he could not think of a single apposite remark himself.
+
+His aunt came to his rescue. 'You don't ask after your Uncle Samuel -- have you forgotten all the beetles and things he used to send you?' she said reprovingly.
+
+'No,' said Flushington, to whom Uncle Samuel was another revelation. 'How is the beetle -- I mean, how is Uncle Samuel? Quite well, I hope?'
+
+'Only tolerably so, Frank, thank you; as well as could be expected after his loss.'
+
+'I didn't hear of that,' said Flushington, catching at this conversational rope in despair. 'Was it -- did he lose much?'
+
+'I was not referring to a money loss,' she said, and her glance was stony for the moment; 'I was (as I think you might have guessed) referring to the death of your cousin John.'
+
+And Flushington, who had begun to feel his first agonies abating, had a terrible relapse at this unhappy mistake; he stammered something about it being very sad indeed, and then, wondering why no one had ever kept him better posted as to his relations, he resolved that he would not betray his ignorance by any further inquiries.
+
+But his aunt was evidently wounded afresh. 'I ought to have known,' she said, and shook her head pathetically; 'they soon forget us when we leave the old country -- and yet I did think, too, my own sister's son would remember his cousin's death! Well, well, my loves, we must teach him to know us better now we have the opportunity. Frankie dear, the girls and I expect you to take us about everywhere and show us all the sights; or what's the use of having a nephew at Cambridge University, you know.'
+
+Flushington had a horrible mental vision of himself careering all over Cambridge at the head of a long procession of female relatives, a fearful prospect for so shy a man. 'Shall you be here long?' he asked.
+
+'Oh, only a week or so; we're at the "Bull," very near you; and so we can always be popping in on you. And now, Frankie, my boy, will you think your aunt a very bold beggar if she asks you to give us a little something to eat? We wouldn't wait for lunch, the dear children were so impatient, and we're all ravenous! We all thought, the girls and I (didn't you, dears?) that it would be such fun lunching with a real college student in his own room.'
+
+'Oh,' protested Flushington, 'I assure you there's nothing so extraordinary in it, and -- and the fact is, I'm afraid there's very little for you to eat, and the kitchens and the buttery are closed by this time.' He said this at a venture, for he felt quite unequal to facing the college cook and ordering lunch from that tremendous personage -- he would far rather order it from his tutor even.
+
+'But,' he added, touched by the little cry of disappointment which the girls made in spite of themselves, 'if you don't mind potted ham -- there's some left in the bottom of this tin, and there's some bread and an inch of butter, and a little marmalade and a few milk biscuits -- and there was some sherry this morning!'
+
+His cousins declared merrily that they were so hungry they would enjoy anything, and so they sat round the table and poor Flushington served out meagre rations to them of all the provisions he could hunt up, even to his figs and his French plums. It was like a shipwreck, he thought drearily. There was not nearly enough to go round, and they lunched with evident disillusionment, thinking that the college luxury of which they had heard so much had been sadly exaggerated.
+
+During the meal the aunt began to study Flushington's features with affectionate interest. 'There's a strong look of poor dear Simon about him when he smiles,' she said, looking at him through her gold double-glasses. 'There, did you catch it, girls? Just his mother's profile! Turn your face a leetle more to the window; I want to get the light on your nose, Frankie; now don't you see the likeness to your aunt's portrait at Gumtree Creek, girls?'
+
+And Flushington had to sit still with all the girls' charming eyes fixed critically upon his crimson countenance, until he would have given worlds to be able to slide down under the table and evade them, but of course he was obliged to remain above.
+
+'He's got dear Caroline's nose!' the aunt announced triumphantly, and the cousins were agreed that he certainly had Caroline's nose -- which made him feel vaguely that he ought at least to offer to return it.
+
+Presently the youngest and prettiest of the girls whispered to her mother, who laughed indulgently. 'Why, you baby,' she said, 'what do you think this silly child wants me to ask you, Frankie? She says she would so like to see how you look in your college robes and that odd four-cornered hat you all wear. Will you put them on, just to please her?'
+
+And he had to put them on and walk slowly up and down the room in his cap and gown, feeling all the time that he was making a dismal display of himself, and that the girls were plainly disappointed, for they admitted that somehow they had fancied the academical costume would have been more becoming.
+
+After this came a hotly-sustained catechism upon his studies, his amusements, his friends, and his mode of life generally, and the aunt -- who by this time felt the potted ham beginning to disagree with her -- seemed to be unfavourably impressed by the answers she obtained.
+
+This was particularly the case when to the question 'what church he attended,' he replied that he attended none, as he was always regular at chapel: for the aunt was disappointed to find her nephew a Dissenter, and said as much; while Flushington, though he saw the misunderstanding, was far too shy and too miserable to explain it.
+
+The cousins by this time were clustered together, whispering and laughing over little private jokes, and he, after the manner of sensitive men, of course concluded they were laughing at him, and perhaps on this occasion he was not mistaken.
+
+He stood by the fireplace, growing hotter and hotter every second, inwardly cursing his whole race, and wishing that his father had been a foundling. What would he have to do next? take all his people out for a walk. He trembled at the idea. He would have to pass through the court with them, under the eyes of the men who were loitering about the grass plots before going down to the boats; through the open window he could hear their voices, and the clash they made as they fenced with walking-sticks.
+
+As he stood there, dumb and miserable, he heard another tap at his door -- a feeble one this time.
+
+'Why,' cried his aunt, 'that must be poor old Sophy at last -- you may not remember old Sophy, Frankie; you were quite a baby when she came out to us; but she remembers you, and begged so hard to be allowed to come and see you. Don't keep her standing outside. Come in, Sophy; it's quite right; Master Frankie is here!'
+
+And at this a very old person in a black bonnet came in, and was overcome by emotion at the first sight of Flushington. 'To think,' she quavered, 'to think as my dim old eyes should live to see the child I've dandled times and again on my lap growed out into a college gentleman!' Whereupon she hugged Flushington respectfully, and wept copiously upon his shoulder, which made him almost cataleptic.
+
+But as she grew calmer, she became more critical, even confessing a certain feeling of disappointment with Flushington. He had not filled out, she declared, so fine as he'd promised to fill out. And when she began to drag up reminiscences of his early youth, asking if he recollected how he wouldn't be washed unless they first put his little spotted wooden horse on the washstand, and how they had to bribe him with a penny trumpet to take his castor oil, and how fond he used to be of senna tea, Flushington felt that he must seem more of a fool than ever!
+
+This was quite bad enough, but at last the girls began to be restless, and there being no efforts made to entertain them, amused themselves by exploring their cousin's rooms and exclaiming at everything they saw; admiring his pipes and his umbrella rack, his buffalo horns and his tin heraldic shields, and his quaint wooden kettle-holder, until they came round to his French novel, and, as they were healthy-minded Colonial girls, with a limited knowledge of Parisian literature, they pounced upon it directly, and wanted Flushington to tell them what it was all about.
+
+'Yes, Frankie, tell us,' the aunt struck in as he faltered; 'I'm always glad for the girls to know of any nice foreign works, as they've really improved wonderfully in their French lately.'
+
+There are French novels, no doubt, of which it would be practicable and pleasant to give a general idea to one's aunt, but they are not numerous, and this particular book did not chance to be one of them.
+
+So this demand threw him into a cold perspiration; he had not presence of mind to prevaricate or invent, and he would probably have committed himself in some deplorable manner, if just at that moment there had not happened to come another tap at the door, or rather a sharp rattle, as if with the end of something wooden.
+
+Flushington's head swam with horror at this third interruption; he was prepared for anything now -- another aunt, say from Greenland's icy mountains, or India's coral strand, with a fresh relay of female cousins, or a staff of aged family retainers who had washed him in early infancy: he sat there cowering.
+
+But when the door opened, a tall, fair, good-looking young fellow in a boating-straw and flannels, and carrying a tennis racket, burst impulsively in. 'Oh, I say,' he began, 'you don't happen to have heard or seen anything of -- oh, beg pardon, didn't see, you know,' he added, as he noticed the extraordinary fact that Flushington had people up.
+
+'Oh -- er -- let me introduce you,' said Flushington, with a vague notion that this was the right thing to do; 'Mr. Lushington -- Mrs. (no, I don't know her name) -- my aunt ... my cousins!'
+
+The young man, who had just been about to retire, bowed and stared with sudden surprise. 'Do you know,' he said slowly in an undertone to the other, 'do you know that I can't help fancying there's some mistake -- are you sure that's not my aunt you've got hold of there?'
+
+'Oh,' whispered Flushington, catching at this unexpected hope, 'do you really think so? She seems so certain she belongs to me!'
+
+'Well,' said the new-comer, 'I only know I have an aunt and cousins I've never seen who were coming up some time this week -- do these ladies happen to come from the Colonies, by the way?'
+
+'Yes, yes!' cried Flushington, eagerly; 'it's all right, they belong to you; and, I say, do take them away; I can't bear it any longer!'
+
+'Now, now, what's this whispering, Frankie?' cried the aunt; 'not very polite, I must say!'
+
+'He says,' explained Flushington, 'he says it's all a mistake, and -- and you're not my aunt at all!'
+
+'Oh, indeed, does he?' she replied, drawing herself together with dignity; 'and may I ask who is this gentleman who knows so much about our family -- I didn't catch the name?'
+
+'My name is Lushington -- Frank Lushington,' he said.
+
+'Then -- who are you?' she demanded, turning upon the unfortunate owner of the rooms; 'answer me, I insist upon it!'
+
+'Me?' he stammered, 'I'm Francis Flushington. I -- I'm very sorry -- but I can't help it!'
+
+'Why -- why -- then you're no nephew of mine, sir!' cried the aunt.
+
+'Thank you very much,' said Flushington, with positive gratitude.
+
+'But,' she said, 'I want to know why I have been allowed to deceive myself in this way. Perhaps, sir, you will kindly explain?'
+
+'What's the good of asking me?' protested Flushington; 'I haven't an idea why!'
+
+'I think I see,' put in her genuine nephew; 'you see, there isn't much light on the staircase outside, and you must have taken the "Flushington" over his oak to be "F. Lushington," and gone straight in, you know. They told me at the lodge that some ladies had been asking for me, and so when I didn't find you in my rooms, I thought I'd look in here on the chance -- and here you all are, eh?'
+
+But the aunt was annoyed to find that she had been pouring out all her pent-up affection over a perfect stranger, and had eaten his lunch into the bargain. She almost feared she had put herself in a slightly ridiculous position, and this, of course, made her feel very angry with Flushington.
+
+'Yes, yes, yes!' she said excitedly, 'that's all very well; but why did he deliberately encourage me in my mistake?'
+
+'How was I to know it was a mistake?' pleaded Flushington. 'You told me you were my aunt from Australia; for all I know Australia may be overrun with my aunts. I supposed you knew best.'
+
+'But you asked affectionately after Samuel,' she persisted; 'you must have had some object in humouring my mistake.'
+
+'You told me to ask after him, and I did,' said Flushington; 'what else could I do?'
+
+'No, sir,' she said, rising in her wrath; 'it was a most ungentlemanly and heartless practical joke on your part, and -- and I shall not listen to further excuses.'
+
+'Oh, good gracious!' Flushington almost whimpered; 'a practical joke! me, oh, it really is too bad!'
+
+'My dear aunt,' Lushington assured her, 'he's quite incapable of such a thing; it's a mistake on both sides; he wouldn't wish to intercept another fellow's aunt.'
+
+'I wouldn't do such a thing for worlds!' protested Flushington, sincerely enough; he would not have robbed a fellow creature of a single relation of the remotest degree; and as for carrying off an aunt and a complete set of female cousins, he would have blushed (and, in fact, did blush) at the bare suspicion.
+
+The cousins themselves had been laughing and whispering together all this time, regarding their new relation with shy admiration, very different from the manner in which they had looked at poor Flushington; the old nurse, too, was overjoyed at the exchange, and now declared that from the minute she set eyes on Flushington, she had felt something inside tell her that her Master Frank would never have turned out so undersized as him!
+
+'Well,' said the aunt, mollified at last, 'you must forgive us for having disturbed you like this, Mr. a -- Flushington' (the unfortunate man murmured that he did not mind it now); 'and now, Frank, my boy, I should like the girls to see your rooms.'
+
+'Come along then,' said he. 'Will you let me give you something to eat? -- I'll run down and see what they can let me have; and perhaps you'll kindly help me to lay the cloth; I never can lay the thing straight myself, and my old bedmaker's out of the way, as usual.'
+
+The girls looked dubiously at one another -- they were frightfully hungry still; at last the eldest, out of pure consideration for Flushington's feelings, said, 'Thank you very much, Cousin Frank -- but your friend has kindly given us some lunch already.'
+
+'Oh!' he said, 'has he though? That's really uncommonly good of you, old chap.'
+
+But Flushington's modesty did not allow him to accept undeserved gratitude. 'I say,' he whispered, taking the other aside, 'I gave them what I could, but I'm afraid it -- it wasn't much of a lunch.'
+
+Lushington made a mental note that he would repeat his invitation when he had got his cousins outside. 'Well, look here,' he said, 'will you come and help me to row the ladies up to Byron's Pool -- say in an hour from this -- and we'll all come back and have a little dinner in my rooms, eh?'
+
+'Yes, Mr. Flushington, do -- do come,' the girls all entreated him, 'just to show you forgive us for taking possession of you like this.'
+
+But Flushington wriggled out of it somehow. He couldn't come, he said uncomfortably; he had an engagement. He had nothing of the kind, but he felt that he had had quite enough female society for one day.
+
+They did not press him, and he was heartily glad when the last of his temporary relations had filed out of his little room, leaving him reminiscences of a terrible half-hour which caused him to be extremely careful for months after not to lunch without ascertaining previously that his outer door was securely sported. But never again did a solitary hungry aunt invade his solitude.
+
+THE SIREN.
+
+Long long ago, a siren lived all alone upon a rocky little island far out in the Southern Ocean. She may have been the youngest and most beautiful of the original three sirens, driven by her sisters' jealousy, or her own weariness of their society, to seek this distant home; or she may have lived there in solitude from the beginning.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But she was not unhappy; all she cared about was the admiration and worship of mortal men, and these were hers whenever she wished, for she had only to sing, and her exquisite voice would float away over the waters, until it reached some passing vessel, and then every one that heard was seized instantly with the irresistible longing to hasten to her isle and throw himself adoringly at her feet.
+
+One day as she sat upon a low headland, looking earnestly out over the sparkling blue-green water before her, and hoping to discover the peak of some far-off sail on the hazy sea-line, she was startled by a sound she had never heard before -- the grating of a boat's keel on the pebbles in the little creek at her side.
+
+She had been too much absorbed in watching for distant ships to notice that a small bark had been gliding round the other side of her island, but now, as she glanced round, she saw that the stranger who had guided it was already jumping ashore and securing his boat.
+
+Evidently she had not attracted him there, for she had been too indolent to sing of late, and he did not seem even to have seen her, or to have landed from any other motive than curiosity.
+
+He was quite young, gallant-looking and sunburnt, with brown hair curling over his forehead, an open face and honest grey eyes. And as she looked at him, the fancy came to her that she would like to question him and hear his voice; she would find out, if she could, what manner of beings these mortals were over whom she possessed so strange a power.
+
+Never before had such a thought entered her mind, notwithstanding that she had seen many mortals of every age and rank, from captain to the lowest galley slave; but then she had only seen them under the influence of her magical voice, when they were struck dumb and motionless, after which -- except as proofs of her power -- they did not interest her.
+
+But this stranger was still free -- so long as she did not choose to enslave him; and for some reason she did not choose to do so just yet.
+
+As he turned towards her, she beckoned to him imperiously, and he saw the slender graceful figure above for the first time, -- the fairest maiden his eyes had ever beheld, with an unearthly beauty in her wonderful dark blue eyes, and hair of the sunniest gold, -- he stood gazing at her in motionless uncertainty, for he thought he must be cheated by a vision.
+
+He came nearer, and, obeying a careless motion of her hand, threw himself down on a broad shelf of rock a little below the spot where she was seated; still he did not dare to speak lest the vision should pass away.
+
+She looked at him for some time with an innocent, almost childish, curiosity shining under her long lashes. At last she gave a low little laugh: 'Are you afraid of me?' she asked; 'why don't you speak? but perhaps,' she added to herself, 'mortals cannot speak.'
+
+'I was silent,' he said, 'lest by speaking I should anger you -- for surely you must be some goddess or sea-nymph?'
+
+'Ah, you can speak!' she cried. 'No, I am no goddess or nymph, and you will not anger me -- if only you will tell me many things I want to know!'
+
+And she began to ask him all the questions she could think of: first about the great world in which men lived, and then about himself, for she was very curious, in a charmingly wilful and capricious fashion of her own.
+
+He answered frankly and simply, but it seemed as if some influence were upon him which kept him from being dazzled and overcome by her loveliness, for he gave no sign as yet of yielding to the glamour she cast upon all other men, nor did his eyes gleam with the despairing adoration the siren knew so well.
+
+She was quick to perceive this, and it piqued her. She paid less and less attention to the answers he gave her, and ceased at last to question him further.
+
+Presently she said, with a strange smile that showed her cruel little teeth gleaming between her scarlet lips, 'Why don't you ask me who I am, and what I am doing here alone? do not you care to know?'
+
+'If you will deign to tell me,' he said.
+
+'Then I will tell you,' she said; 'I am a siren -- are you not afraid now?'
+
+'Why should I be afraid?' he asked, for the name had no meaning in his ears.
+
+She was disappointed; it was only her voice -- nothing else, then -- that deprived men of their senses; perhaps this youth was proof even against that; she longed to try, and yet she hesitated still.
+
+'Then you have never heard of me,' she said; 'you don't know why I sit and watch for the great gilded ships you mortals build for yourselves?'
+
+'For your pleasure, I suppose,' he answered. 'I have watched them myself many a time; they are grand as they sweep by, with their sharp brazen beaks cleaving the frothing water, and their painted sails curving out firm against the sky. It is good to hear the measured thud of the great oars and the cheerful cries of the sailors as they clamber about the cordage.'
+
+She laughed disdainfully. 'And you think I care for all that!' she cried. 'Where is the pleasure of looking idly on and admiring? -- that is for them, not for me. As these galleys of yours pass, I sing -- and when the sailors hear, they must come to me. Man after man leaps eagerly into the sea, and makes for the shore -- until at last the oars grind and lock together, and the great ship drifts helplessly on, empty and aimless. I like that.'
+
+'But the men?' he asked, with an uneasy wonder at her words.
+
+'Oh, they reach the shore -- some of them, and then they lie at my feet, just as you are lying now, and I sing on, and as they listen they lose all power or wish to move, nor have I ever heard them speak as you speak; they only lie there upon the sand or rock, and gaze at me always, and soon their cheeks grow hollower and hollower, and their eyes brighter and brighter -- and it is I who make them so!'
+
+'But I see them not,' said the youth, divided between hope and fear; 'the beach is bare; where, then, are all those gone who have lain here?'
+
+'I cannot say,' she replied carelessly; 'they are not here for long; when the sea comes up it carries them away.'
+
+'And you do not care!' he cried, struck with horror at the absolute indifference in her face; 'you do not even try to keep them here?'
+
+'Why should I care?' said the siren lightly; 'I do not want them. More will always come when I wish. And it is so wearisome always to see the same faces, that I am glad when they go.'
+
+'I will not believe it, siren,' groaned the young man, turning from her in bitter anguish; 'oh, you cannot be cruel!'
+
+'No, I am not cruel,' she said in surprise. 'And why will you not believe me? It is true!'
+
+'Listen to me,' he said passionately: 'do you know how bitter it is to die, -- to leave the sunlight and the warm air, the fair land and the changing sea?'
+
+'How can I know?' said the siren. 'I shall never die -- unless -- unless something happens which will never be!'
+
+'You will live on, to bring this bitterness upon others for your sport. We mortals lead but short lives, and life, even spent in sorrow, is sweet to most of us; and our deaths when they come bring mourning to those who cared for us and are left behind. But you lure men to this isle, and look on unmoved as they are borne away!'
+
+'No, you are wrong,' she said; 'I am not cruel, as you think me; when they are no longer pleasant to look at, I leave them. I never see them borne away. I never thought what became of them at last. Where are they now?'
+
+'They are dead, siren,' he said sadly, 'drowned. Life was dear to them; far away there were women and children to whom they had hoped to return, and who have waited and wept for them since. Happy years were before them, and to some at least -- but for you -- a restful and honoured old age. But you called them, and as they lay here the greedy waves came up, dashed them from these rocks and sucked them, blinded, suffocating, battling painfully for breath and life, down into the dark green depths. And now their bones lie tangled in the sea-weed, but they themselves are wandering, sad, restless shades, in the shadowy world below, where is no sun, no happiness, no hope -- but only sighing evermore, and the memory of the past!'
+
+She listened with drooping lids, and her chin resting upon her soft palm; at last she said with a slight quiver in her voice,'I did not know -- I did not mean them to die. And what can I do? I cannot keep back the sea.'
+
+'You can let them sail by unharmed,' he said.
+
+'I cannot!' she cried. 'Of what use is my power to me if I may not exercise it? Why do you tell me of men's sufferings -- what are they to me?'
+
+'They give you their lives,' he said; 'you fill them with a hopeless love and they die for it in misery -- yet you cannot even pity them!'
+
+'Is it love that brings them here?' she said eagerly. 'What is this that is called love? For I have always known that if I ever love -- but then only -- I must die, though what love may be I know not. Tell me, so that I may avoid it!'
+
+'You need not fear, siren,' he said, 'for, if death is only to come to you through love, you will never die!'
+
+'Still, I want to know,' she insisted; 'tell me!'
+
+'If a stranger were to come some day to this isle, and when his eyes meet yours, you feel your indifference leaving you, so that you have no heart to see him lie ignobly at your feet, and cannot leave him to perish miserably in the cold waters; if you desire to keep him by your side -- not as your slave and victim, but as your companion, your equal, for evermore -- that will be love!'
+
+'If that is love,' she cried joyously, 'I shall indeed never die! But that is not how men love me?' she added.
+
+'No,' he said; 'their love for you must be some strange and enslaving passion, since they will submit to death if only they may hear your voice. That is not true love, but a fatal madness.'
+
+'But if mortals feel love for one another,' she asked,'they must die, must they not?'
+
+'The love of a man for a maiden who is gentle and good does not kill -- even when it is most hopeless,' he said; 'and where she feels it in return, it is well for both, for their lives will flow on together in peace and happiness.'
+
+He had spoken softly, with a far away look in his eyes that did not escape the siren.
+
+'And you love one of your mortal maidens like that?' she asked. 'Is she more beautiful than I am?'
+
+'She is mortal,' he said, 'but she is fair and gracious, my maiden; and it is she who has my love, and will have it while I live.'
+
+'And yet,' she said, with a mocking smile, 'I could make you forget her.'
+
+Her childlike waywardness had left her as she spoke the words, and a dangerous fire was shining in her deep eyes.
+
+'Never!' he cried; 'even you cannot make me false to my love! And yet,' he added quickly, 'I dare not challenge you, enchantress that you are; what is my will against your power?'
+
+'You do not love me yet,' she said; 'you have called me cruel, and reproached me; you have dared to tell me of a maiden compared with whom I am nothing! You shall be punished. I will have you for my own, like the others!'
+
+'Siren,' he pleaded, seizing one of her hands as it lay close to him on the hot grey rock, 'take my life if you will -- but do not drive away the memory of my love; let me die, if I must die, faithful to her; for what am I, or what is my love, to you?'
+
+'Nothing,' she said scornfully, and yet with something of a caress in her tone, 'yet I want you; you shall lie here, and hold my hand, and look into my eyes, and forget all else but me.'
+
+'Let me go,' he cried, rising, and turning back to regain his bark; 'I choose life while I may!'
+
+She laughed. 'You have no choice,' she said; 'you are mine!' she seemed to have grown still more radiantly, dazzlingly fair, and presently, as the stranger made his way to the creek where his boat was lying, she broke into the low soft chant whose subtle witchery no mortals had ever resisted as yet.
+
+He started as he heard her, but still he went on over the rocks a little longer, until at last he stopped with a groan, and turned slowly back; his love across the sea was fading fast from his memory; he felt no desire to escape any longer; he was even eager at last to be back on the ledge at her feet and listen to her for ever.
+
+He reached it and sank down with a sigh, and a drowsy delicious languor stole over him, taking away all power to stir or speak.
+
+Her song was triumphant and mocking, and yet strangely tender at times, thrilling him as he heard it, but her eyes only rested now and then, and always indifferently, upon his upturned face.
+
+He wished for nothing better now than to lie there, following the flashing of her supple hands upon the harp-strings and watching every change of her fair face. What though the waves might rise round him and sweep him away out of sight, and drown her voice with the roar and swirl of waters? it would not be just yet.
+
+And the siren sang on; at first with a cruel pride at finding her power supreme, and this youth, for all his fidelity, no wiser than the rest; he would waste there with yearning, hopeless passion, till the sight of him would weary her, and she would leave him to drift away and drown forgotten.
+
+Yet she did not despise him as she had despised all the others; in her fancy his eyes bore a sad reproach, and she could look at him no longer with indifference.
+
+Meanwhile the waves came rolling in fast, till they licked the foot of the rock, and as the foam creamed over the shingle, the siren found herself thinking of the fate which was before him, and, as she thought, her heart was wrung with a new strange pity.
+
+She did not want him to be drowned; she would like him there always at her feet, with that rapt devotion upon his face; she almost longed to hear his voice again -- but that could never be!
+
+And the sun went down, and the crimson flush in the sky and on the sea faded out, the sea grew grey and crested with the white billows, which came racing in and broke upon the shore, roaring sullenly and raking back the pebbles with a sharp rattle at each recoil. The siren could sing no longer; her voice died away, and she gazed on the troubled sea with a wistful sadness in her great eyes.
+
+At last a wave larger than the others struck the face of the low cliff with a shock that seemed to leave it trembling, and sent the cold salt spray dashing up into the siren's face.
+
+She sprang forward to the edge and looked over, with a sudden terror lest the ledge below should be bare -- but her victim lay there still, bound fast by her spell, and careless of the death that was advancing upon him.
+
+Then she knew for the first time that she could not give him up to the sea, and she leaned down to him and laid one small white hand upon his shoulder. 'The next wave will carry you away,' she cried, trembling; 'there is still time; save yourself, for I cannot let you die!'
+
+But he gave no sign of having heard her, but lay there motionless, and the wind wailed past them and the sea grew wilder and louder.
+
+She remembered now that no efforts of his own could save him -- he was doomed, and she was the cause of it, and she hid her face in her slender hands, weeping for the first time in her life.
+
+The words he had spoken in answer to her questions about love came back to her: 'It was true, then,' she said to herself; 'it is love that I feel for him. But I cannot love -- I must not love him -- for if I do, my power is gone, and I must throw myself into the sea!'
+
+So she hardened her heart once more, and turned away, for she feared to die; but again the ground shook beneath her, and the spray rose high into the air, and then she could bear it no more -- whatever it cost her, she must save him -- for if he died, what good would her life be to her?
+
+'If one of us must die,' she said, 'I will be that one. I am cruel and wicked, as he told me; I have done harm enough!' and bending down, she wound her arms round his unconscious body and drew him gently up to the level above.
+
+'You are safe now,' she whispered; 'you shall not be drowned -- for I love you. Sail back to your maiden on the mainland, and be happy; but do not hate me for the evil I have wrought, for suffering and death have come to me in my turn!'
+
+The lethargy into which he had fallen left him under her clinging embrace, and the sad, tender words fell almost unconsciously upon his dulled ears; he felt the touch of her hair as it brushed his cheek, and his forehead was still warm with the kiss she had pressed there as he opened his eyes -- only to find himself alone.
+
+For the fate which the siren had dreaded had come upon her at last; she had loved, and she had paid the penalty for loving, and never more would her wild, sweet voice beguile mortals to their doom.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE CURSE OF THE CATAFALQUES.
+
+I.
+
+Unless I am very much mistaken, until the time when I was subjected to the strange and exceptional experience which I now propose to relate, I had never been brought into close contact with anything of a supernatural description. At least if I ever was, the circumstance can have made no lasting impression upon me, as I am quite unable to recall it. But in the 'Curse of the Catafalques' I was confronted with a horror so weird and so altogether unusual, that I doubt whether I shall ever succeed in wholly forgetting it -- and I know that I have never felt really well since.
+
+It is difficult for me to tell my story intelligibly without some account of my previous history by way of introduction, although I will to make it as little diffuse as I may.
+
+I had not been a success at home; I was an orphan, and, in my anxiety to please a wealthy uncle upon whom I was practically dependent, I had consented to submit myself to a series of competitive examinations for quite a variety of professions, but in each successive instance I achieved the same disheartening failure. Some explanation of this may, no doubt, be found in the fact that, with a fatal want of forethought, I had entirely omitted to prepare myself by any particular course of study -- which, as I discovered too late, is almost indispensable to success in these intellectual contests.
+
+My uncle himself took this view, and conceiving -- not without discernment -- that I was by no means likely to retrieve myself by any severe degree of application in the future, he had me shipped out to Australia, where he had correspondents and friends who would put things in my way.
+
+They did put several things in my way -- and, as might have been expected, I came to grief over every one of them, until at length, having given a fair trial to each opening that had been provided for me, I began to perceive that my uncle had made a grave mistake in believing me suited for a colonial career.
+
+I resolved to return home and convince him of his error, and give him one more opportunity of repairing it; he had failed to discover the best means of utilising my undoubted ability, yet I would not reproach him (nor do I reproach him even now), for I too have felt the difficulty.
+
+In pursuance of my resolution, I booked my passage home by one of the Orient liners from Melbourne to London. About an hour before the ship was to leave her moorings, I went on board and made my way at once to the state-room which I was to share with a fellow passenger, whose acquaintance I then made for the first time.
+
+He was a tall cadaverous young man of about my own age, and my first view of him was not encouraging, for when I came in, I found him rolling restlessly on the cabin floor, and uttering hollow groans.
+
+'This will never do,' I said, after I had introduced myself; 'if you're like this now, my good sir, what will you be when we're fairly out at sea? You must husband your resources for that. And why trouble to roll? The ship will do all that for you, if you will only have patience.'
+
+He explained, somewhat brusquely, that he was suffering from mental agony, not sea-sickness; and by a little pertinacious questioning (for I would not allow myself to be rebuffed) I was soon in possession of the secret which was troubling my companion, whose name, as I also learned, was Augustus McFadden.
+
+It seemed that his parents had emigrated before his birth, and he had lived all his life in the Colony, where he was contented and fairly prosperous -- when an eccentric old aunt of his over in England happened to die.
+
+She left McFadden himself nothing, having given by her will the bulk of her property to the only daughter of a baronet of ancient family, in whom she took a strong interest. But the will was not without its effect upon her existence, for it expressly mentioned the desire of the testatrix that the baronet should receive her nephew Augustus if he presented himself within a certain time, and should afford him every facility for proving his fitness for acceptance as a suitor. The alliance was merely recommended, however, not enjoined, and the gift was unfettered by any conditions.
+
+'I heard of it first,' said McFadden, 'from Chlorine's father (Chlorine is her name, you know). Sir Paul Catafalque wrote to me, informing me of the mention of my name in my aunt's will, enclosing his daughter's photograph, and formally inviting me to come over and do my best, if my affections were not pre-engaged, to carry out the last wishes of the departed. He added that I might expect to receive shortly a packet from my aunt's executors which would explain matters fully, and in which I should find certain directions for my guidance. The photograph decided me; it was so eminently pleasing that I felt at once that my poor aunt's wishes must be sacred to me. I could not wait for the packet to arrive, and so I wrote at once to Sir Paul accepting the invitation. Yes,' he added, with another of the hollow groans, 'miserable wretch that I am, I pledged my honour to present myself as a suitor, and now -- now -- here I am, actually embarked upon the desperate errand!'
+
+He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him. 'Really,' I said, 'I think in your place, with an excellent chance -- for I presume the lady's heart is also disengaged -- with an excellent chance of winning a baronet's daughter with a considerable fortune and a pleasing appearance, I should bear up better.'
+
+'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'
+
+'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'
+
+'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'
+
+'Perhaps she would,' I said.
+
+'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'
+
+'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'
+
+'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'
+
+'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'
+
+'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,' he added, with a shudder, 'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,' he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'
+
+'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,' was my very natural rejoinder.
+
+'She will not require strict proof,' he continued eagerly; 'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'
+
+I hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.
+
+When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden, 'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'
+
+'That won't do at all!' he said irritably; 'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'
+
+'I might work it up into something effective, certainly,' I admitted; 'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'
+
+He gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.
+
+And then the 'All-ashore' bell rang, and McFadden, as he bade me farewell, took from his pocket a bulky packet. 'You have saved me,' he said. 'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'
+
+Before I could say anything, he had fastened something heavy to the parcel and dropped it through the cabin-light into the sea, after which he went ashore, and I have never seen nor heard of him since.
+
+During the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.
+
+No man with the instincts of a gentleman can feel any satisfaction at rinding himself on the way to harrow up a poor young lady's feelings by a perfectly fictitious account of the death of a poor-spirited suitor who could selfishly save his reputation at her expense.
+
+And so strong was my feeling about this from the very first, that I doubt whether, if McFadden's terms had been a shade less liberal, I could ever have brought myself to consent.
+
+But it struck me that, under judiciously sympathetic treatment, the lady might prove not inconsolable, and that I myself might be able to heal the wound I was about to inflict.
+
+I found a subtle pleasure in the thought of this, for, unless McFadden had misinformed me, Chlorine's fortune was considerable, and did not depend upon any marriage she might or might not make. On the other hand, I was penniless, and it seemed to me only too likely that her parents might seek to found some objection to me on that ground.
+
+I studied the photograph McFadden had left with me; it was that of a pensive but distinctly pretty face, with an absence of firmness in it that betrayed a plastic nature. I felt certain that if I only had the recommendation, as McFadden had, of an aunt's dying wishes, it would not take me long to effect a complete conquest.
+
+And then, as naturally as possible, came the thought -- why should not I procure myself the advantages of this recommendation? Nothing could be easier; I had merely to present myself as Augustus McFadden, who was hitherto a mere name to them; the information I already possessed as to his past life would enable me to support the character, and as it seemed that the baronet lived in great seclusion, I could easily contrive to keep out of the way of the few friends and relations I had in London until my position was secure.
+
+What harm would this innocent deception do to anyone? McFadden, even if he ever knew, would have no right to complain -- he had given up all pretentions himself and if he was merely anxious to preserve his reputation, his wishes would be more than carried out, for I flattered myself that whatever ideal Chlorine might have formed of her destined suitor, I should come much nearer to it than poor McFadden could ever have done. No, he would gain, positively gain, by my assumption. He could not have counted upon arousing more than a mild regret as it was; now he would be fondly, it might be madly, loved. By proxy, it is true, but that was far more than he deserved.
+
+Chlorine was not injured -- far from it; she would have a suitor to welcome, not weep over, and his mere surname could make no possible difference to her. And lastly, it was a distinct benefit to me, for with a new name and an excellent reputation success would be an absolute certainty. What wonder, then, that the scheme, which opened out a far more manly and honourable means of obtaining a livelihood than any I had previously contemplated, should have grown more attractively feasible each day, until I resolved at last to carry it out? Let rigid moralists blame me if they will; I have never pretended to be better than the average run of mankind (though I am certainly no worse), and no one who really knows what human nature is will reproach me very keenly for obeying what was almost an instinct. And I may say this, that if ever an unfortunate man was bitterly punished for a fraud which was harmless, if not actually pious, by a visitation of intense and protracted terror, that person was I!
+
+II.
+
+After arriving in England, and before presenting myself at Parson's Green in my assumed character, I took one precaution against any danger there might be of my throwing away my liberty in a fit of youthful impulsiveness. I went to Somerset House, and carefully examined the probate copy of the late Miss Petronia McFadden's last will and testament.
+
+Nothing could have been more satisfactory; a sum of between forty and fifty thousand pounds was Chlorine's unconditionally, just as McFadden had said. I searched, but could find nothing in the will whatever to prevent her property, under the then existing state of the law, from passing under the entire control of a future husband.
+
+After this, then, I could no longer restrain my ardour, and so, one foggy afternoon about the middle of December, I found myself driving towards the house in which I reckoned upon achieving a comfortable independence.
+
+Parson's Green was reached at last; a small triangular open space bordered on two of its sides by mean and modern erections, but on the third by some ancient mansions, gloomy and neglected-looking indeed, but with traces on them still of their former consequence.
+
+My cab stopped before the gloomiest of them all -- a square grim house with dull and small-paned windows, flanked by two narrow and projecting wings, and built of dingy brick, faced with yellow-stone. Some old scroll-work railings, with a corroded frame in the middle for a long departed oil-lamp, separated the house from the road; inside was a semicircular patch of rank grass, and a damp gravel sweep led from the heavy gate to a square portico supported by two wasted black wooden pillars.
+
+As I stood there, after pulling the pear-shaped bell-handle, and heard the bell tinkling and jangling fretfully within, and as I glanced up at the dull house-front looming cheerless out of the fog-laden December twilight, I felt my confidence beginning to abandon me for the first time, and I really was almost inclined to give the whole thing up and run away.
+
+Before I could make up my mind, a mouldy and melancholy butler had come slowly down the sweep and opened the gate -- and my opportunity had fled. Later I remembered how, as I walked along the gravel, a wild and wailing scream pierced the heavy silence -- it seemed at once a lamentation and a warning. But as the District Railway was quite near, I did not attach any particular importance to the sound at the time.
+
+I followed the butler through a dank and chilly hall, where an antique lamp hung glimmering feebly through its panes of dusty stained glass, up a broad carved staircase, and along some tortuous panelled passages, until at length I was ushered into a long and rather low reception room, scantily furnished with the tarnished mirrors and spindle-legged brocaded furniture of a bygone century.
+
+A tall and meagre old man, with a long white beard, and haggard, sunken black eyes, was seated at one side of the high chimney-piece, while opposite him sat a little limp old lady with a nervous expression, and dressed in trailing black robes relieved by a little yellow lace about the head and throat. As I saw them, I recognised at once that I was in the presence of Sir Paul Catafalque and his wife.
+
+They both rose slowly, and advanced arm-in-arm in their old-fashioned way, and met me with a stately solemnity. 'You are indeed welcome,' they said in faint hollow voices. 'We thank you for this proof of your chivalry and devotion. It cannot be but that such courage and such self-sacrifice will meet with their reward!'
+
+And although I did not quite understand how they could have discerned, as yet, that I was chivalrous and devoted, I was too glad to have made a good impression to do anything but beg them not to mention it.
+
+And then a slender figure, with a drooping head, a wan face, and large sad eyes, came softly down the dimly-lighted room towards me, and I and my destined bride met for the first time.
+
+As I had expected, after she had once anxiously raised her eyes, and allowed them to rest upon me, her face was lighted up by an evident relief, as she discovered that the fulfilment of my aunt's wishes would not be so distasteful to her, personally, as it might have been.
+
+For myself, I was upon the whole rather disappointed in her; the portrait had flattered her considerably -- the real Chlorine was thinner and paler than I had been led to anticipate, while there was a settled melancholy in her manner which I felt would prevent her from being an exhilarating companion.
+
+And I must say I prefer a touch of archness and animation in womankind, and, if I had been free to consult my own tastes, should have greatly preferred to become a member of a more cheerful family. Under the circumstances, however, I was not entitled to be too particular, and I put up with it.
+
+From the moment of my arrival I fell easily and naturally into the position of an honoured guest, who might be expected in time to form nearer and dearer relations with the family, and certainly I was afforded every opportunity of doing so.
+
+I made no mistakes, for the diligence with which I had got up McFadden's antecedents enabled me to give perfectly satisfactory replies to most of the few allusions or questions that were addressed to me, and I drew upon my imagination for the rest.
+
+But those days I spent in the baronet's family were far from lively: the Catafalques went nowhere; they seemed to know nobody; at least no visitors ever called or dined there while I was with them, and the time dragged slowly on in a terrible monotony in that dim tomb of a house, which I was not expected to leave except for very brief periods, for Sir Paul would grow uneasy if I walked out alone -- even to Putney.
+
+There was something, indeed, about the attitude of both the old people towards myself which I could only consider as extremely puzzling. They would follow me about with a jealous care, blended with anxious alarm, and their faces as they looked at me wore an expression of tearful admiration, touched with something of pity, as for some youthful martyr; at times, too, they spoke of the gratitude they felt, and professed a determined hopefulness as to my ultimate success.
+
+Now I was well aware that this is not the ordinary bearing of the parents of an heiress to a suitor who, however deserving in other respects, is both obscure and penniless, and the only way in which I could account for it was by the supposition that there was some latent defect in Chlorine's temper or constitution, which entitled the man who won her to commiseration, and which would also explain their evident anxiety to get her off their hands.
+
+But although anything of this kind would be, of course, a drawback, I felt that forty or fifty thousand pounds would be a fair set-off -- and I could not expect everything.
+
+When the time came at which I felt that I could safely speak to Chlorine of what lay nearest my heart, I found an unforeseen difficulty in bringing her to confess that she reciprocated my passion.
+
+She seemed to shrink unaccountably from speaking the word which gave me the right to claim her, confessing that she dreaded it not for her own sake, but for mine alone, which struck me as an unpleasantly morbid trait in so young a girl.
+
+Again and again I protested that I was willing to run all risks -- as I was -- and again and again she resisted, though always more faintly, until at last my efforts were successful, and I forced from her lips the assent which was of so much importance to me.
+
+But it cost her a great effort, and I believe she even swooned immediately afterwards; but this is only conjecture, as I lost no time in seeking Sir Paul and clenching the matter before Chlorine had time to retract.
+
+He heard what I had to tell him with a strange light of triumph and relief in his weary eyes. 'You have made an old man very happy and hopeful,' he said. 'I ought, even now to deter you, but I am too selfish for that. And you are young and brave and ardent; why need we despair? I suppose,' he added, looking keenly at me, 'you would prefer as little delay as possible?'
+
+'I should indeed,' I replied. I was pleased, for I had not expected to find him so sensible as that.
+
+'Then leave all preliminaries to me; when the day and time have been settled, I will let you know. As you are aware, it will be necessary to have your signature to this document; and here, my boy, I must in conscience warn you solemnly that by signing you make your decision irrevocable -- irrevocable, you understand?'
+
+When I had heard this, I need scarcely say that I was all eagerness to sign; so great was my haste that I did not even try to decipher the somewhat crabbed and antiquated writing in which the terms of the agreement were set out.
+
+I was anxious to impress the baronet with a sense of my gentlemanly feeling and the confidence I had in him, while I naturally presumed that, since the contract was binding upon me, the baronet would, as a man of honour, hold it equally conclusive on his own side.
+
+As I look back upon it now, it seems simply extraordinary that I should have been so easily satisfied, have taken so little pains to find out the exact position in which I was placing myself; but, with the ingenuous confidence of youth, I fell an easy victim, as I was to realise later with terrible enlightenment.
+
+'Say nothing of this to Chlorine,' said Sir Paul, as I handed him the document signed, 'until the final arrangements are made; it will only distress her unnecessarily.'
+
+I wondered why at the time, but I promised to obey, supposing that he knew best, and for some days after that I made no mention to Chlorine of the approaching day which was to witness our union.
+
+As we were continually together, I began to regard her with an esteem which I had not thought possible at first. Her looks improved considerably under the influence of happiness, and I found she could converse intelligently enough upon several topics, and did not bore me nearly as much as I was fully prepared for.
+
+And so the time passed less heavily, until one afternoon the baronet took me aside mysteriously. 'Prepare yourself, Augustus' (they had all learned to call me Augustus), he said; 'all is arranged. The event upon which our dearest hopes depend is fixed for to-morrow -- in the Grey Chamber of course, and at midnight.'
+
+I thought this a curious time and place for the ceremony, but I had divined his eccentric passion for privacy and retirement, and only imagined that he had procured some very special form of licence.
+
+'But you do not know the Grey Chamber,' he added. 'Come with me, and I will show you where it is.' And he led me up the broad staircase, and, stopping at the end of a passage before an immense door covered with black baize and studded with brass nails, which gave it a hideous resemblance to a gigantic coffin lid, he pressed a spring, and it fell slowly back.
+
+I saw a long dim gallery, whose very existence nothing in the external appearance of the mansion had led me to suspect; it led to a heavy oaken door with cumbrous plates and fastenings of metal.
+
+'To-morrow night is Christmas Eve, as you are doubtless aware,' he said in a hushed voice. 'At twelve, then, you will present yourself at yonder door -- the door of the Grey Chamber -- where you must fulfil the engagement you have made.'
+
+I was surprised at his choosing such a place for the ceremony; it would have been more cheerful in the long drawing room; but it was evidently a whim of his, and I was too happy to think of opposing it. I hastened at once to Chlorine, with her father's sanction, and told her that the crowning moment of both our lives was fixed at last.
+
+The effect of my announcement was astonishing: she fainted, for which I remonstrated with her as soon as she came to herself. 'Such extreme sensitiveness, my love,' I could not help saying, 'may be highly creditable to your sense of maidenly propriety, but allow me to say that I can scarcely regard it as a compliment.'
+
+'Augustus,' she said, 'you must not think I doubt you; and yet -- and yet -- the ordeal will be a severe one for you.'
+
+'I will steel my nerves,' I said grimly (for I was annoyed with her); 'and, after all, Chlorine, the ceremony is not invariably fatal; I have heard of the victim surviving it -- occasionally.'
+
+'How brave you are!' she said earnestly. 'I will imitate you, Augustus; I too will hope.'
+
+I really thought her insane, which alarmed me for the validity of the marriage. 'Yes, I am weak, foolish, I know,' she continued; 'but oh, I shudder so when I think of you, away in that gloomy Grey Chamber, going through it all alone!'
+
+This confirmed my worst fears. No wonder her parents felt grateful to me for relieving them of such a responsibility! 'May I ask where you intend to be at the time?' I inquired very quietly.
+
+'You will not think us unfeeling,' she replied, 'but dear papa considered that such anxiety as ours would be scarcely endurable did we not seek some distraction from it; and so, as a special favour, he has procured evening orders for Sir John Soane's Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields, where we shall drive immediately after dinner.'
+
+I knew that the proper way to treat the insane was by reasoning with them gently, so as to place their own absurdity clearly before them. 'If you are forgetting your anxiety in Sir John Soane's Museum, while I cool my heels in the Grey Chamber,' I said, 'is it probable that any clergyman will be induced to perform the marriage ceremony? Did you really think two people can be united separately?'
+
+She was astonished this time. 'You are joking!' she cried; 'you cannot really believe that we are to be married in -- in the Grey Chamber?'
+
+'Then will you tell me where we are to be married?' I asked. 'I think I have the right to know -- it can hardly be at the Museum!'
+
+She turned upon me with a sudden misgiving; 'I could almost fancy,' she said anxiously, 'that this is no feigned ignorance. Augustus, your aunt sent you a message -- tell me, have you read it?'
+
+Now, owing to McFadden's want of consideration, this was my one weak point -- I had not read it, and thus I felt myself upon delicate ground. The message evidently related to business of importance which was to be transacted in this Grey Chamber, and as the genuine McFadden clearly knew all about it, it would have been simply suicidal to confess my own ignorance.
+
+'Why of course, darling, of course,' I said hastily. 'You must think no more of my silly joke; there is something I have to arrange in the Grey Chamber before I can call you mine. But, tell me, why does it make you so uneasy?' I added, thinking it might be prudent to find out beforehand what formality was expected from me.
+
+'I cannot help it -- no, I cannot!' she cried, 'the test is so searching -- are you sure that you are prepared at all points? I overheard my father say that no precaution could safely be neglected. I have such a terrible foreboding that, after all, this may come between us.'
+
+It was clear enough to me now; the baronet was by no means so simple and confiding in his choice of a son-in-law as I had imagined, and had no intention, after all, of accepting me without some inquiry into my past life, my habits, and my prospects.
+
+That he should seek to make this examination more impressive by appointing this ridiculous midnight interview for it, was only what might have been expected from an old man of his confirmed eccentricity.
+
+But I knew I could easily contrive to satisfy the baronet, and with the idea of consoling Chlorine, I said as much. 'Why will you persist in treating me like a child, Augustus?' she broke out almost petulantly. 'They have tried to hide it all from me, but do you suppose I do not know that in the Grey Chamber you will have to encounter one far more formidable, far more difficult to satisfy, than poor dear papa?'
+
+'I see you know more than I -- more than I thought you did,' I said. 'Let us understand one another, Chlorine -- tell me exactly how much you know.'
+
+'I have told you all I know,' she said; 'it is your turn to confide in me.'
+
+'Not even for your sweet sake, my dearest,' I was obliged to say, 'can I break the seal that is set upon my tongue. You must not press me. Come, let us talk of other things.'
+
+But I now saw that matters were worse than I had thought; instead of the feeble old baronet I should have to deal with a stranger, some exacting and officious friend or relation perhaps, or, more probably, a keen family solicitor who would put questions I should not care about answering, and even be capable of insisting upon strict settlements.
+
+It was that, of course; they would try to tie my hands by a strict settlement, with a brace of cautious trustees; unless I was very careful, all I should get by my marriage would be a paltry life-interest, contingent upon my surviving my wife.
+
+This revolted me; it seems to me that when law comes in with its offensively suspicious restraints upon the husband and its indelicately premature provisions for the offspring, all the poetry of love is gone at once. By allowing the wife to receive the income 'for her separate use and free from the control of her husband,' as the phrase runs, you infallibly brush the bloom from the peach, and implant the 'little speck within the fruit' which, as Tennyson beautifully says, will widen by-and-by and make the music mute.
+
+This may be overstrained on my part, but it represents my honest conviction; I was determined to have nothing to do with law. If it was necessary, I felt quite sure enough of Chlorine to defy Sir Paul. I would refuse to meet a family solicitor anywhere, and I intended to say so plainly at the first convenient opportunity.
+
+III.
+
+The opportunity came after dinner that evening when we were all in the drawing-room, Lady Catafalque dozing uneasily in her arm-chair behind a firescreen, and Chlorine, in the further room, playing funereal dirges in the darkness, and pressing the stiff keys of the old piano with a languid uncertain touch.
+
+Drawing a chair up to Sir Paul's, I began to broach the subject calmly and temperately. 'I find,' I said, 'that we have not quite understood one another over this affair in the Grey Chamber. When I agreed to an appointment there, I thought -- well, it doesn't matter what I thought, I was a little too premature. What I want to say now is, that while I have no objection to you, as Chlorine's father, asking me any questions (in reason) about myself, I feel a delicacy in discussing my private affairs with a perfect stranger.'
+
+His burning eyes looked me through and through; 'I don't understand,' he said. 'Tell me what you are talking about.'
+
+I began all over again, telling him exactly what I felt about solicitors and settlements. 'Are you well?' he asked sternly. 'What have I ever said about settlements or solicitors?
+
+I saw that I was wrong again, and could only stammer something to the effect that a remark of Chlorine's had given me this impression.
+
+'What she could have said to convey such an idea passes my comprehension,' he said gravely; 'but she knows nothing -- she's a mere child. I have felt from the first, my boy, that your aunt's intention was to benefit you quite as much as my own daughter. Believe me, I shall not attempt to restrict you in any way; I shall be too rejoiced to see you come forth in safety from the Grey Chamber.'
+
+All the relief I had begun to feel respecting the settlements was poisoned by these last words. Why did he talk of that confounded Grey Chamber as if it were a fiery furnace, or a cage of lions? What mystery was there concealed beneath all this, and how, since I was obviously supposed to be thoroughly acquainted with it, could I manage to penetrate the secret of this perplexing appointment?
+
+While he had been speaking, the faint, mournful music died away, and, looking up, I saw Chlorine, a pale, slight form, standing framed in the archway which connected the two rooms.
+
+'Go back to your piano, my child,' said the baronet; 'Augustus and I have much to talk about which is not for your ears.'
+
+'But why not?' she said; 'oh, why not? Papa! dearest mother! Augustus! I can bear it no longer! I have often felt of late that we are living this strange life under the shadow of some fearful Thing, which would chase all cheerfulness from any home. More than this I did not seek to know; I dared not ask. But now, when I know that Augustus, whom I love with my whole heart, must shortly face this ghastly presence, you cannot wonder if I seek to learn the real extent of the danger that awaits him! Tell me all. I can bear the worst -- for it cannot be more horrible than my own fears!'
+
+Lady Catafalque had roused herself and was wringing her long mittened hands and moaning feebly. 'Paul,' she said, 'you must not tell her; it will kill her; she is not strong!' Her husband seemed undecided, and I myself began to feel exquisitely uncomfortable. Chlorine's words pointed to something infinitely more terrible than a mere solicitor.
+
+'Poor girl,' said Sir Paul at last, 'it was for your own good that the whole truth has been thus concealed from you; but now, perhaps, the time has come when the truest kindness will be to reveal all. What do you say, Augustus?'
+
+'I -- I agree with you,' I replied faintly; 'she ought to be told.'
+
+'Precisely!' he said. 'Break to her, then, the nature of the ordeal which lies before you.'
+
+It was the very thing which I wanted to be broken to me! I would have given the world to know all about it myself, and so I stared at his gloomy old face with eyes that must have betrayed my helpless dismay. At last I saved myself by suggesting that such a story would come less harshly from a parent's lips.
+
+'Well, so be it,' he said. 'Chlorine, compose yourself, dearest one; sit down there, and summon up all your fortitude to hear what I am about to tell you. You must know, then -- I think you had better let your mother give you a cup of tea before I begin; it will steady your nerves.'
+
+During the delay which followed -- for Sir Paul did not consider his daughter sufficiently fortified until she had taken at least three cups -- I suffered tortures of suspense, which I dared not betray.
+
+They never thought of offering me any tea, though the merest observer might have noticed how very badly I wanted it.
+
+At last the baronet was satisfied, and not without a sort of gloomy enjoyment and a proud relish of the distinction implied in his exceptional affliction, he began his weird and almost incredible tale.
+
+'It is now,' said he, 'some centuries since our ill-fated house was first afflicted with the family curse which still attends it. A certain Humfrey de Catafalque, by his acquaintance with the black art, as it was said, had procured the services of a species of familiar, a dread and supernatural being. For some reason he had conceived a bitter enmity towards his nearest relations, whom he hated with a virulence that not even death could soften. For, by a refinement of malice, he bequeathed this baleful thing to his descendants for ever, as an inalienable heirloom! And to this day it follows the title -- and the head of the family for the time being is bound to provide it with a secret apartment under his own roof. But that is not the worst: as each member of our house succeeds to the ancestral rank and honours, he must seek an interview with 'The Curse,' as it has been styled for generations. And, in that interview, it is decided whether the spell is to be broken and the Curse depart from us for ever -- or whether it is to continue its blighting influence, and hold yet another life in miserable thraldom.'
+
+'And are you one of its thralls then, papa?' faltered Chlorine.
+
+'I am, indeed,' he said. 'I failed to quell it, as every Catafalque, however brave and resolute, has failed yet. It checks all my accounts, and woe to me if that cold, withering eye discovers the slightest error -- even in the pence column! I could not describe the extent of my bondage to you, my daughter, or the humiliation of having to go and tremble monthly before that awful presence. Not even yet, old as I am, have I grown quite accustomed to it!'
+
+Never, in my wildest imaginings, had I anticipated anything one quarter so dreadful as this; but still I clung to the hope that it was impossible to bring me into the affair.
+
+'But, Sir Paul,' I said -- 'Sir Paul, you -- you mustn't stop there, or you'll alarm Chlorine more than there's any need to do. She -- ha, ha! -- don't you see, she has got some idea into her head that I have to go through much the same sort of thing. Just explain that to her. I'm not a Catafalque, Chlorine, so it -- it can't interfere with me. That is so, isn't it, Sir Paul? Good heavens, sir, don't torture her like this!' I cried, as he was silent. 'Speak out!'
+
+'You mean well, Augustus,' he said, 'but the time for deceiving her has gone by; she must know the worst. Yes, my poor child,' he continued to Chlorine, whose eyes were wide with terror -- though I fancy mine were even wider -- 'unhappily, though our beloved Augustus is not a Catafalque himself, he has of his own free will brought himself within the influence of the Curse, and he, too, at the appointed hour, must keep the awful assignation, and brave all that the most fiendish malevolence can do to shake his resolution.'
+
+I could not say a single word; the horror of the idea was altogether too much for me, and I fell back on my chair in a state of speechless collapse.
+
+'You see,' Sir Paul went on explaining, 'it is not only all new baronets, but every one who would seek an alliance with the females of our race, who must, by the terms of that strange bequest, also undergo this trial. It may be in some degree owing to this necessity that, ever since Humfrey de Catafalque's diabolical testament first took effect, every maiden of our House has died a spinster.' (Here Chlorine hid her face with a low wail.) 'In 1770, it is true, one solitary suitor was emboldened by love and daring to face the ordeal. He went calmly and resolutely to the chamber where the Curse was then lodged, and the next morning they found him outside the door -- a gibbering maniac!'
+
+I writhed on my chair. 'Augustus!' cried Chlorine wildly, 'promise me you will not permit the Curse to turn you into a gibbering maniac. I think if I saw you gibber I should die!'
+
+I was on the verge of gibbering then; I dared not trust myself to speak.
+
+'Nay, Chlorine,' said Sir Paul more cheerfully, 'there is no cause for alarm; all has been made smooth for Augustus.' (I began to brighten a little at this.) 'His Aunt Petronia had made a special study of the old-world science of incantation, and had undoubtedly succeeded at last in discovering the master-word which, employed according to her directions, would almost certainly break the unhallowed spell. In her compassionate attachment to us, she formed the design of persuading a youth of blameless life and antecedents to present himself as our champion, and the reports she had been given of our dear Augustus' irreproachable character led her to select him as a likely instrument. And her confidence in his generosity and courage was indeed well-founded, for he responded at once to the appeal of his departed aunt, and, with her instructions for his safeguard, and the consciousness of his virtue as an additional protection, there is hope, my child, strong hope, that, though the struggle may be a long and bitter one, yet Augustus will emerge a victor!'
+
+I saw very little ground for expecting to emerge as anything of the kind, or for that matter to emerge at all, except in instalments, -- for the master-word which was to abash the demon was probably inside the packet of instructions, and that was certainly somewhere at the bottom of the sea, outside Melbourne, fathoms below the surface.
+
+I could bear no more. 'It's simply astonishing to me,' I said, 'that in the nineteenth century, hardly six miles from Charing Cross, you can calmly allow this hideous "Curse," or whatever you call it, to have things all its own way like this.'
+
+'What can I do, Augustus?' he asked helplessly.
+
+'Do? Anything!' I retorted wildly (for I scarcely knew what I said). 'Take it out for an airing (it must want an airing by this time); take it out -- and lose it! Or get both the archbishops to step in and lay it for you. Sell the house, and make the purchaser take it at a valuation, with the other fixtures. I certainly would not live under the same roof with it. And I want you to understand one thing -- I was never told all this; I have been kept in the dark about it. Of course I knew there was some kind of a curse in the family -- but I never dreamed of anything so bad as this, and I never had any intention of being boxed up alone with it either. I shall not go near the Grey Chamber!'
+
+'Not go near it!' they all cried aghast.
+
+'Not on any account,' I said, for I felt firmer and easier now that I had taken up this position. 'If the Curse has any business with me, let it come down and settle it here before you all in a plain straightforward manner. Let us go about it in a business-like way. On second thoughts,' I added, fearing lest they should find means of carrying out this suggestion. 'I won't meet it anywhere!'
+
+'And why -- why won't you meet it?' they asked breathlessly.
+
+'Because,' I explained desperately, 'because I'm -- I'm a materialist.' (I had not been previously aware that I had any decided opinions on the question, but I could not stay then to consider the point.) 'How can I have any dealings with a preposterous supernatural something which my reason forbids me to believe in? You see my difficulty? It would be inconsistent, to begin with, and -- and extremely painful to both sides.'
+
+'No more of this ribaldry,' said Sir Paul sternly. 'It may be terribly remembered against you when the hour comes. Keep a guard over your tongue, for all our sakes, and more especially your own. Recollect that the Curse knows all that passes beneath this roof. And do not forget, too, that you are pledged -- irrevocably pledged. You must confront the Curse!'
+
+Only a short hour ago, and I had counted Chlorine's fortune and Chlorine as virtually mine; and now I saw my golden dreams roughly shattered for ever! And, oh, what a wrench it was to tear myself from them! what it cost me to speak the words that barred my Paradise to me for ever!
+
+But if I wished to avoid confronting the Curse -- and I did wish this very much -- I had no other course. 'I had no right to pledge myself,' I said, with quivering lips, 'under all the circumstances.'
+
+'Why not,' they demanded again; 'what circumstances?'
+
+'Well, in the first place,' I assured them earnestly, 'I'm a base impostor. I am indeed. I'm not Augustus McFadden at all. My real name is of no consequence -- but it's a prettier one than that. As for McFadden, he, I regret to say, is now no more.'
+
+Why on earth I could not have told the plain truth here has always been a mystery to me. I suppose I had been lying so long that it was difficult to break myself of this occasionally inconvenient trick at so short a notice, but I certainly mixed things up to a hopeless extent.
+
+'Yes,' I continued mournfully, 'McFadden is dead; I will tell you how he died if you would care to know. During his voyage here he fell overboard, and was almost instantly appropriated by a gigantic shark, when, as I happened to be present, I enjoyed the melancholy privilege of seeing him pass away. For one brief moment I beheld him between the jaws of the creature, so pale but so composed (I refer to McFadden, you understand -- not the shark), he threw just one glance up at me, and with a smile, the sad sweetness of which I shall never forget (it was McFadden's smile, I mean, of course -- not the shark's), he, courteous and considerate to the last, requested me to break the news and remember him very kindly to you all. And, in the same instant, he abruptly vanished within the monster -- and I saw neither of them again!'
+
+Of course in bringing the shark in at all I was acting directly contrary to my instructions, but I quite forgot them in my anxiety to escape the acquaintance of the Curse of the Catafalques.
+
+'If this is true, sir,' said the baronet haughtily when I had finished, 'you have indeed deceived us basely.'
+
+'That,' I replied, 'is what I was endeavouring to bring out. You see, it puts it quite out of my power to meet your family Curse. I should not feel justified in intruding upon it. So, if you will kindly let some one fetch a fly or a cab in half an hour -- -- '
+
+'Stop!' cried Chlorine. 'Augustus, as I will call you still, you must not go like this. If you have stooped to deceit, it was for love of me, and -- and Mr. McFadden is dead. If he had been alive, I should have felt it my duty to allow him an opportunity of winning my affection, but he is lying in his silent tomb, and -- and I have learnt to love you. Stay, then; stay and brave the Curse; we may yet be happy!'
+
+I saw how foolish I had been not to tell the truth at first, and I hastened to repair this error. 'When I described McFadden as dead,' I said hoarsely, 'it was a loose way of putting the facts -- because, to be quite accurate, he isn't dead. We found out afterwards that it was another fellow the shark had swallowed, and, in fact, another shark altogether. So he is alive and well now, at Melbourne, but when he came to know about the Curse, he was too much frightened to come across, and he asked me to call and make his excuses. I have now done so, and will trespass no further on your kindness -- if you will tell somebody to bring a vehicle of any sort in a quarter of an hour.'
+
+'Pardon me,' said the baronet, 'but we cannot part in this way. I feared when first I saw you that your resolution might give way under the strain; it is only natural, I admit. But you deceive yourself if you think we cannot see that these extraordinary and utterly contradictory stories are prompted by sudden panic. I quite understand it, Augustus; I cannot blame you; but to allow you to withdraw now would be worse than weakness on my part. The panic will pass, you will forget these fears to-morrow, you must forget them; remember, you have promised. For your own sake, I shall take care that you do not forfeit that solemn bond, for I dare not let you run the danger of exciting the Curse by a deliberate insult.'
+
+I saw clearly that his conduct was dictated by a deliberate and most repulsive selfishness; he did not entirely believe me, but he was determined that if there was any chance that I, whoever I might be, could free him from his present thraldom, he would not let it escape him.
+
+I raved, I protested, I implored -- all in vain; they would not believe a single word I said, they positively refused to release me, and insisted upon my performing my engagement.
+
+And at last Chlorine and her mother left the room, with a little contempt for my unworthiness mingled with their evident compassion; and a little later Sir Paul conducted me to my room, and locked me in 'till,' as he said, 'I had returned to my senses.'
+
+IV.
+
+What a night I passed, as I tossed sleeplessly from side to side under the canopy of my old-fashioned bedstead, torturing my fevered brain with vain speculations as to the fate the morrow was to bring me.
+
+I felt myself perfectly helpless; I saw no way out of it; they seemed bent upon offering me up as a sacrifice to this private Moloch of theirs. The baronet was quite capable of keeping me locked up all the next day and pushing me into the Grey Chamber to take my chance when the hour came.
+
+If I had only some idea what the Curse was like to look at, I thought I might not feel quite so afraid of it; the vague and impalpable awfulness of the thing was intolerable, and the very thought of it caused me to fling myself about in an ecstasy of horror.
+
+By degrees, however, as daybreak came near, I grew calmer -- until at length I arrived at a decision. It seemed evident to me that, as I could not avoid my fate, the wisest course was to go forth to meet it with as good a grace as possible. Then, should I by some fortunate accident come well out of it, my fortune was ensured.
+
+But if I went on repudiating my assumed self to the very last, I should surely arouse a suspicion which the most signal rout of the Curse would not serve to dispel.
+
+And after all, as I began to think, the whole thing had probably been much exaggerated; if I could only keep my head, and exercise all my powers of cool impudence, I might contrive to hoodwink this formidable relic of mediæval days, which must have fallen rather behind the age by this time. It might even turn out to be (although I was hardly sanguine as to this) as big a humbug as I was myself, and we should meet with confidential winks, like the two augurs.
+
+But, at all events, I resolved to see this mysterious affair out, and trust to my customary good luck to bring me safely through, and so, having found the door unlocked, I came down to breakfast something like my usual self, and set myself to remove the unfavourable impression I had made on the previous night.
+
+They did it from consideration for me, but still it was mistaken kindness for them all to leave me entirely to my own thoughts during the whole of the day, for I was driven to mope alone about the gloom-laden building, until by dinner-time I was very low indeed from nervous depression.
+
+We dined in almost unbroken silence; now and then, as Sir Paul saw my hand approaching a decanter, he would open his lips to observe that I should need the clearest head and the firmest nerve ere long, and warn me solemnly against the brown sherry; from time to time, too, Chlorine and her mother stole apprehensive glances at me, and sighed heavily between every course. I never remember eating a dinner with so little enjoyment.
+
+The meal came to an end at last; the ladies rose, and Sir Paul and I were left to brood over the dessert. I fancy both of us felt a delicacy in starting a conversation, and before I could hit upon a safe remark, Lady Catafalque and her daughter returned, dressed, to my unspeakable horror, in readiness to go out. Worse than that even, Sir Paul apparently intended to accompany them, for he rose at their entrance.
+
+'It is now time for us to bid you a solemn farewell, Augustus,' he said, in his hollow old voice. 'You have three hours before you yet, and if you are wise, you will spend them in earnest self-preparation. At midnight, punctually, for you must not dare to delay, you will go to the Grey Chamber -- the way thither you know, and you will find the Curse prepared for you. Good-bye, then, brave and devoted boy; stand firm, and no harm can befall you!'
+
+'You are going away, all of you!' I cried. They were not what you might call a gay family to sit up with, but even their society was better than my own.
+
+'Upon these dread occasions,' he explained, 'it is absolutely forbidden for any human being but one to remain in the house. All the servants have already left, and we are about to take our departure for a private hotel near the Strand. We shall just have time, if we start at once, to inspect the Soane Museum on our way thither, which will serve as some distraction from the terrible anxiety we shall be feeling.'
+
+At this I believe I positively howled with terror; all my old panic came back with a rush. 'Don't leave me all alone with It!' I cried; 'I shall go mad if you do!'
+
+Sir Paul simply turned on his heel in silent contempt, and his wife followed him; but Chlorine remained behind for one instant, and somehow, as she gazed at me with a yearning pity in her sad eyes, I thought I had never seen her looking so pretty before.
+
+'Augustus,' she said, 'get up.' (I suppose I must have been on the floor somewhere.) 'Be a man; show us we were not mistaken in you. You know I would spare you this if I could; but we are powerless. Oh, be brave, or I shall lose you for ever!'
+
+Her appeal did seem to put a little courage into me, I staggered up and kissed her slender hand and vowed sincerely to be worthy of her.
+
+And then she too passed out, and the heavy hall door slammed behind the three, and the rusty old gate screeched like a banshee as it swung back and closed with a clang.
+
+I heard the carriage-wheels grind the slush, and the next moment I knew that I was shut up on Christmas Eve in that sombre mansion -- with the Curse of the Catafalques as my sole companion!
+
+* * * * *
+
+I don't think the generous ardour with which Chlorine's last words had inspired me lasted very long, for I caught myself shivering before the clock struck nine, and, drawing up a clumsy leathern arm-chair close to the fire, I piled on the logs and tried to get rid of a certain horrible sensation of internal vacancy which was beginning to afflict me.
+
+I tried to look my situation fairly in the face; whatever reason and common sense had to say about it, there seemed no possible doubt that something of a supernatural order was shut up in that great chamber down the corridor, and also that, if I meant to win Chlorine, I must go up and have some kind of an interview with it. Once more I wished I had some definite idea to go upon; what description of being should I find this Curse? Would it be aggressively ugly, like the bogie of my infancy, or should I see a lank and unsubstantial shape, draped in clinging black, with nothing visible beneath it but a pair of burning hollow eyes and one long pale bony hand? Really I could not decide which would be the more trying of the two.
+
+By-and-by I began to recollect unwillingly all the frightful stories I had ever read; one in particular came back to me, -- the adventure of a foreign marshal who, after much industry, succeeded in invoking an evil spirit, which came bouncing into the room shaped like a gigantic ball, with, I think, a hideous face in the middle of it, and would not be got rid of until the horrified marshal had spent hours in hard praying and persistent exorcism!
+
+What should I do if the Curse was a globular one and came rolling all round the room after me?
+
+Then there was another appalling tale I had read in some magazine, -- a tale of a secret chamber, too, and in some respects a very similar case to my own, for there the heir of some great house had to go in and meet a mysterious aged person with strange eyes and an evil smile, who kept attempting to shake hands with him.
+
+Nothing should induce me to shake hands with the Curse of the Catafalques, however apparently friendly I might find it.
+
+But it was not very likely to be friendly, for it was one of those mystic powers of darkness which know nearly everything -- it would detect me as an impostor directly, and what would become of me? I declare I almost resolved to confess all and sob out my deceit upon its bosom, and the only thing which made me pause was the reflection that probably the Curse did not possess a bosom.
+
+By this time I had worked myself up to such a pitch of terror that I found it absolutely necessary to brace my nerves, and I did brace them. I emptied all the three decanters, but as Sir Paul's cellar was none of the best, the only result was that, while my courage and daring were not perceptibly heightened, I was conscious of feeling exceedingly unwell.
+
+Tobacco, no doubt, would have calmed and soothed me, but I did not dare to smoke. For the Curse, being old-fashioned, might object to the smell of it, and I was anxious to avoid exciting its prejudices unnecessarily.
+
+And so I simply sat in my chair and shook. Every now and then I heard steps on the frosty path outside: sometimes a rapid tread, as of some happy person bound to scenes of Christmas revelry, and little dreaming of the miserable wretch he was passing; sometimes the slow creaking tramp of the Fulham policeman on his beat.
+
+What if I called him in and gave the Curse into custody -- either for putting me in bodily fear (as it was undeniably doing), or for being found on the premises under suspicious circumstances?
+
+There was a certain audacity about this means of cutting the knot that fascinated me at first, but still I did not venture to adopt it, thinking it most probable that the stolid constable would decline to interfere as soon as he knew the facts; and even if he did, it would certainly annoy Sir Paul extremely to hear of his Family Curse spending its Christmas in a police-cell, and I felt instinctively that he would consider it a piece of unpardonable bad taste on my part.
+
+So one hour passed. A few minutes after ten I heard more footsteps and voices in low consultation, as if a band of men had collected outside the railings. Could there be any indication without of the horrors these walls contained?
+
+But no; the gaunt house-front kept its secret too well; they were merely the waits. They saluted me with the old carol, 'God rest you, merry gentleman, let nothing you dismay!' which should have encouraged me, but it didn't, and they followed that up by a wheezy but pathetic rendering of 'The Mistletoe Bough.'
+
+For a time I did not object to them; while they were scraping and blowing outside I felt less abandoned and cut off from human help, and then they might arouse softer sentiments in the Curse upstairs by their seasonable strains: these things do happen at Christmas sometimes. But their performance was really so infernally bad that it was calculated rather to irritate than subdue any evil spirit, and very soon I rushed to the window and beckoned to them furiously to go away.
+
+Unhappily, they thought I was inviting them indoors for refreshment, and came round to the gate, when they knocked and rang incessantly for a quarter of an hour.
+
+This must have stirred the Curse up quite enough, but when they had gone, there came a man with a barrel organ, which was suffering from some complicated internal disorder, causing it to play its whole repertory at once, in maddening discords. Even the grinder himself seemed dimly aware that his instrument was not doing itself justice, for he would stop occasionally, as if to ponder or examine it. But he was evidently a sanguine person and had hopes of bringing it round by a little perseverance; so, as Parson's Green was well-suited by its quiet for this mode of treatment, he remained there till he must have reduced the Curse to a rampant and rabid condition.
+
+He went at last, and then the silence that followed began to my excited fancy (for I certainly saw nothing) to be invaded by strange sounds that echoed about the old house. I heard sharp reports from the furniture, sighing moans in the draughty passages, doors opening and shutting, and -- worse still -- stealthy padding footsteps, both above and in the ghostly hall outside!
+
+I sat there in an ice-cold perspiration, until my nerves required more bracing, to effect which I had recourse to the spirit-case.
+
+And after a short time my fears began to melt away rapidly. What a ridiculous bugbear I was making of this thing after all! Was I not too hasty in setting it down as ugly and hostile before I had seen it ... how did I know it was anything which deserved my horror?
+
+Here a gush of sentiment came over me at the thought that it might be that for long centuries the poor Curse had been cruelly misunderstood -- that it might be a blessing in disguise.
+
+I was so affected by the thought that I resolved to go up at once and wish it a merry Christmas through the keyhole, just to show that I came in no unfriendly spirit.
+
+But would not that seem as if I was afraid of it? I scorned the idea of being afraid. Why, for two straws, I would go straight in and pull its nose for it -- if it had a nose!
+
+I went out with this object, not very steadily, but before I had reached the top of the dim and misty staircase, I had given up all ideas of defiance, and merely intended to go as far as the corridor by way of a preliminary canter.
+
+The coffin-lid door stood open, and I looked apprehensively down the corridor; the grim metal fittings on the massive door of the Grey Chamber were gleaming with a mysterious pale light, something between the phenomena obtained by electricity and the peculiar phosphorescence observable in a decayed shell-fish; under the door I saw the reflection of a sullen red glow, and within I could hear sounds like the roar of a mighty wind, above which peals of fiendish mirth rang out at intervals, and were followed by a hideous dull clanking.
+
+It seemed only too evident that the Curse was getting up the steam for our interview. I did not stay there long, because I was afraid that it might dart out suddenly and catch me eavesdropping, which would be a hopelessly bad beginning. I got back to the dining-room, somehow; the fire had taken advantage of my short absence to go out, and I was surprised to find by the light of the fast-dimming lamp that it was a quarter to twelve already.
+
+Only fifteen more fleeting minutes and then -- unless I gave up Chlorine and her fortune for ever -- I must go up and knock at that awful door, and enter the presence of the frightful mystic Thing that was roaring and laughing and clanking on the other side!
+
+Stupidly I sat and stared at the clock; in five minutes, now, I should be beginning my desperate duel with one of the powers of darkness -- a thought which gave me sickening qualms.
+
+I was clinging to the thought that I had still two precious minutes left -- perhaps my last moments of safety and sanity -- when the lamp expired with a gurgling sob, and left me in the dark.
+
+I was afraid of sitting there all alone any longer, and besides, if I lingered, the Curse might come down and fetch me. The horror of this idea made me resolve to go up at once, especially as scrupulous punctuality might propitiate it.
+
+Groping my way to the door, I reached the hall and stood there, swaying under the old stained-glass lantern. And then I made a terrible discovery. I was not in a condition to transact any business; I had disregarded Sir Paul's well-meant warning at dinner; I was not my own master. I was lost!
+
+The clock in the adjoining room tolled twelve, and from without the distant steeples proclaimed in faint peals and chimes that it was Christmas morn. My hour had come!
+
+Why did I not mount those stairs? I tried again and again, and fell down every time, and at each attempt I knew the Curse would be getting more and more impatient.
+
+I was quite five minutes late, and yet, with all my eagerness to be punctual, I could not get up that staircase. It was a horrible situation, but it was not at its worst even then, for I heard a jarring sound above, as if heavy rusty bolts were being withdrawn.
+
+The Curse was coming down to see what had become of me! I should have to confess my inability to go upstairs without assistance, and so place myself wholly at its mercy!
+
+I made one more desperate effort, and then -- and then, upon my word, I don't know how it was exactly -- but, as I looked wildly about, I caught sight of my hat on the hat-rack below, and the thoughts it roused in me proved too strong for resistance. Perhaps it was weak of me, but I venture to think that very few men in my position would have behaved any better.
+
+I renounced my ingenious and elaborate scheme for ever, the door (fortunately for me) was neither locked nor bolted, and the next moment I was running for my life along the road to Chelsea, urged on by the fancy that the Curse itself was in hot pursuit.
+
+* * * * *
+
+For weeks after that I lay in hiding, starting at every sound, so fearful was I that the outraged Curse might track me down at last; all my worldly possessions were at Parson's Green, and I could not bring myself to write or call for them, nor indeed have I seen any of the Catafalques since that awful Christmas Eve.
+
+I wish to have nothing more to do with them, for I feel naturally that they took a cruel advantage of my youth and inexperience, and I shall always resent the deception and constraint to which I so nearly fell a victim.
+
+But it occurs to me that those who may have followed my strange story with any curiosity and interest may be slightly disappointed at its conclusion, which I cannot deny is a lame and unsatisfactory one.
+
+They expected, no doubt, to be told what the Curse's personal appearance is, and how it comports itself in that ghastly Grey Chamber, what it said to me, and what I said to it, and what happened after that.
+
+This information, as will be easily understood, I cannot pretend to give, and, for myself, I have long ceased to feel the slightest curiosity on any of these points. But for the benefit of such as are less indifferent, I may suggest that almost any eligible bachelor would easily obtain the opportunities I failed to enjoy by simply calling at the old mansion at Parson's Green, and presenting himself to the baronet as a suitor for his daughter's hand.
+
+I shall be most happy to allow my name to be used as a reference.
+
+A FAREWELL APPEARANCE.
+
+A DOG STORY FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: D]
+
+'Andy, come here, sir; I want you.' The little girl who spoke was standing by the table in the morning-room of a London house one summer day, and she spoke to a small silver-grey terrier lying curled up at the foot of one of the window curtains.
+
+As Dandy happened to be particularly comfortable just then, he pretended not to hear, in the hope that his child-mistress would not press the point.
+
+But she did not choose to be trifled with in this way: he was called more imperiously still, until he could dissemble no longer and came out gradually, stretching himself and yawning with a deep sense of injury.
+
+'I know you haven't been asleep; I saw you watching the flies,' she said. 'Come up here, on the table.'
+
+Seeing there was no help for it, he obeyed, and sat down on the table-cloth opposite to her, with his tongue hanging out and his eyes blinking, waiting her pleasure.
+
+Dandy was rather particular as to the hands he allowed to touch him, but generally speaking, he found it pleasant enough (when he had nothing better to do) to resign himself to be pulled about, lectured, or caressed by Hilda.
+
+She was a strikingly pretty child, with long curling brown locks, and a petulant profile, which reminded one of Mr. Doyle's charming wilful little fairy princesses.
+
+On the whole, although Dandy privately considered she had taken rather a liberty in disturbing him, he was willing to overlook it.
+
+'I've been thinking, Dandy,' said Hilda, reflectively, 'that as you and Lady Angelina will be thrown a good deal together when we go into the country next week, you ought to know one another, and you've never been properly introduced yet; so I'm going to introduce you now.'
+
+Now Lady Angelina was only Hilda's doll, and a doll, too, with perhaps as few ideas as any doll ever had yet -- which is a good deal to say.
+
+Dandy despised her with all the enlightenment of a thoroughly superior dog; he considered there was simply nothing in her, except possibly bran, and it had made him jealous and angry for a long time to notice the influence that this staring, simpering creature had managed to gain over her mistress.
+
+'Now sit up,' said Hilda. Dandy sat up. He felt that committed him to nothing, but he was careful not to look at Lady Angelina, who was lolling ungracefully in the work-basket with her toes turned in.
+
+'Lady Angelina,' said Hilda next, with great ceremony, 'let me introduce my particular friend Mr. Dandy. Dandy, you ought to bow and say something nice and clever, only you can't; so you must give Angelina your paw instead.'
+
+Here was an insult for a self-respecting dog! Dandy determined never to disgrace himself by presenting his paw to a doll; it was quite against his principles. He dropped on all fours rebelliously.
+
+'That's very rude of you,' said Hilda, 'but you shall do it. Angelina will think it so odd of you. Sit up again and give your paw, and let Angelina stroke your head.'
+
+The dog's little black nose wrinkled and his lips twitched, showing his sharp white teeth: he was not going to be touched by Angelina's flabby wax hand if he could help it!
+
+Unfortunately, Hilda, like older people sometimes, was bent upon forcing persons to know one another, in spite of an obvious unwillingness on at least one side, and so she brought the doll up to the terrier, and, taking one limp pink arm, attempted to pat the dog's head with it.
+
+This was too much: his eyes flamed red like two signal lamps, there was a sharp sudden snap, and the next minute Lady Angelina's right arm was crunched viciously between Dandy's keen teeth.
+
+After that there was a terrible pause. Dandy knew he was in for it, but he was not sorry. He dropped the mangled pieces of wax one by one, and stood there with his head on one side, growling to himself, but wincing for all that, for he was afraid to meet Hilda's indignant grey eyes.
+
+'You abominable, barbarous dog!' she said at last, using the longest words she could to impress him. 'See what you've done! you've bitten poor Lady Angelina's arm off.'
+
+He could not deny it; he had. He looked down at the fragments before him, and then sullenly up again at Hilda. His eyes said what he felt -- 'I'm glad of it -- serves her right; I'd do it again.'
+
+'You deserve to be well whipped,' continued Hilda, severely; 'but you do howl so. I shall leave you to your own conscience' (a favourite remark of her governess) 'until your bad heart is touched, and you come here and say you're sorry and beg both our pardons. I only wish you could be made to pay for a new arm. Go away out of my sight, you bad dog; I can't bear to look at you!'
+
+Dandy, still impenitent, moved leisurely down from the table and out of the open door into the kitchen. He was thinking that Angelina's arm was very nasty, and he should like something to take the taste away. When he got downstairs, however, he found the butcher was calling and had left the area gate open, which struck him as a good opportunity for a ramble. By the time he came back Hilda would have forgotten all about it, or she might think he was lost, and find out which was the more valuable animal -- a silly, useless doll, or an intelligent dog like himself.
+
+Hilda saw him from the window as he bolted out with tail erect. 'He's doing it to show off,' she said to herself; 'he's a horrid dog sometimes. But I suppose I shall have to forgive him when he comes back!'
+
+However, Dandy did not come back that night, nor all next day, nor the day after that, nor any more; for the fact was, an experienced dog-stealer had long had his eye upon him, and Dandy happened to come across him that very morning.
+
+He was not such a stupid dog as to be unaware he was doing wrong in following a stranger, but then the man had such delightful suggestions about him of things dogs love to eat, and Dandy had started for his run in a disobedient temper.
+
+So he followed the broken-nosed, bandy-legged man till they reached a narrow lonely alley, and then just as Dandy was thinking about going home again, the stranger turned suddenly on him, hemmed him up in a corner, caught him dexterously up in one hand, tapped him sharply on the head, and slipped him, stunned, into a capacious inside pocket.
+
+* * * * *
+
+'I thought werry likely I should come on you in 'ere, Bob,' said a broken-nosed man in a fur cap, about a week after Dandy's disappearance, to a short, red-faced, hoarse man who was drinking at the bar of a public-house.
+
+'Ah,' said the hoarse man; 'well, you ain't fur out as it happens.'
+
+'Yes, I did,' said the other. 'I met your partner the other day, and he tells me you're looking out for a noo Toby dawg. I've got a article somewheres about me at this moment I should like you to cast a eye over.'
+
+And, diving into his inside pocket he fished out a small shining silver-grey terrier which he slammed down rather roughly on the pewter counter.
+
+Of course the terrier was Hilda's lost Dandy. For some reason or other, the dog-stealer had not thought it prudent to claim the reward offered for him as he had intended to do at first, and Dandy, not being of a breed in fashionable demand, the man was trying to get rid of him now for the best price he could obtain from humble purchasers.
+
+'Well, we do want a understudy, and that's a fact,' said the hoarse man, who was one of the managers of Mr. Punch's Theatre. 'The Toby as travels with us now is breakin' up, getting so blind he don't know Punch from Jack Ketch. But that there animal 'ud never make a 'it as a Toby,' he said, examining Dandy critically: 'why, that's bin a gen'leman's dawg once, that has -- we don't want no amatoors on our show.'
+
+'It's the amatoors as draws nowadays,' said the dog-fancier: 'not but what this 'ere partic'lar dawg has his gifts for the purfession. You see him sit up and smoke a pipe and give yer his paw, now.'
+
+And he put Dandy through these performances on the sloppy counter. It was much worse than being introduced to Angelina; but hunger and fretting and rough treatment had broken down the dog's spirit, and it was with dull submission now that he repeated the poor little tricks Hilda had taught him with such pretty perseverance.
+
+'It's no use talking,' said the showman, though he began to show some signs of yielding. 'It takes a tyke born and bred to make a reg'lar Toby. And this ain't a young dog, and he ain't 'ad no proper dramatic eddication; he's not worth to us not the lowest you'd take for him.'
+
+'Well now, I'll tell you 'ow fur I'm willing to meet yer,' said the other persuasively; 'you shall have him, seein' it's you, for -- -- ' And so they haggled on for a little longer, but at the end of the interview Dandy had changed hands, and was permanently engaged as a member of Mr. Punch's travelling company.
+
+A few days after that Dandy made acquaintance with his strange fellow-performers. The men had put the show up on a deserted part of a common near London, behind the railings of a little cemetery where no one was likely to interfere with them, and the new Toby was hoisted up on the very narrow and uncomfortable shelf to go through his first interview with Mr. Punch.
+
+When that popular gentleman appeared at his side Dandy examined him with pricked and curious ears. He was rather odd-looking, but his smile, though there was certainly a good deal of it, seemed genial and encouraging, and the poor dog wagged his tail in a conciliatory manner -- he wanted some one to be kind to him again.
+
+'The dawg's a fool, Bob,' growled Jem, the other proprietor of the show, a little shabby dirty-faced man with a thin and ragged red beard, who was watching the experiment from the outside; 'he's a-waggin' his bloomin' tail -- he'll be a-lickin of Punch's face next! Try him with a squeak.'
+
+And Bob produced a sound which was a hideous compound of chuckle, squeak, and crow, when Dandy, in the full persuasion that the strange figure must be a new variety of cat, flew at it blindly.
+
+But though he managed to get a firm grip of its great hook nose, there was not much satisfaction to be got out of that -- the hard wood made his teeth ache, and besides, in his excitement he overbalanced himself and came suddenly down upon Mr. Robert Blott inside, who swore horribly and put him up again.
+
+Then, after a little highly mysterious dancing up and down, and wagging his head, Mr. Punch, in the most uncalled-for manner, hit Dandy over the head with a stick, in order, as Jem put it, 'to get up a ill-feeling between them' -- a wanton insult that made the dog madder than ever.
+
+He did not revenge himself at once: he only barked furiously and retreated to his corner of the stage; but the next time Punch came sidling cautiously up to him, Dandy made, not for his wooden head, but for a place between his shoulders which he thought looked more yielding.
+
+There was a savage howl from below, Punch dropped in a heap on the narrow shelf, and Mr. Blott sucked his finger and thumb with many curses.
+
+Mr. Punch was not killed, however, though Dandy had at first imagined he had settled him. He revived almost directly, when he proceeded to rain down such a shower of savage blows from his thick stick upon every part of the dog's defenceless body, that Dandy was completely subdued long before his master thought fit to leave off.
+
+By the time the lesson came to an end, Dandy was sore and shaken and dazed, for Bob had allowed himself to be a little carried away by personal feeling. Still it only showed Dandy more plainly that Mr. Punch was not a person to be trifled with, and, though he liked him as little as ever, he respected as well as feared him.
+
+Unfortunately for Dandy, he was a highly intelligent terrier, of an inquiring turn of mind, and so, after he had been led about for some days with the show, and was able to think things over and put them together, he began to suspect that Punch and the other figures were not alive after all, but only a particularly ugly set of dolls, which Mr. Blott put in motion in some way best known to himself.
+
+From the time he was perfectly certain of this he felt a degraded dog indeed. He had scorned once to allow himself to be even touched by Angelina (who at least was not unpleasant to look at, and always quite inoffensive): now, every hour of his life he found himself ordered about and insulted before a crowd of shabby strangers by a vulgar tawdry doll, to which he was obliged to be civil and even affectionate -- as if it was something real!
+
+Dandy was an honest dog, and so, of course, it was very revolting to his feelings to have to impose upon the public in this manner; but Mr. Punch, if he was only a doll, had a way of making himself obeyed.
+
+And though in time the new Toby learnt to perform his duties respectably enough, he did so without the least enthusiasm: it wounded his pride -- besides making him very uncomfortable -- when Punch caught hold of his head, and something with red whiskers and a blue frock took him by the hind legs, and danced jerkily round the stage with him. He hated that more than anything. Day by day he grew more miserable and homesick.
+
+He loathed the Punch and Judy show and every doll in it, from the hero down to the ghost and the baby. Jem and Bob were not actually unkind to him, and would even have been friendly had he allowed it; but he was a dainty dog, with a natural dislike to ill-dressed and dirty persons, and shrank from their rough if well-meant advances. He never could forget what he had once been, and what he was, and often, in the close sleeping-room of some common lodging-house, he dreamed of the comfortable home he had lost, and Hilda's pretty imperious face, and woke to miss her more than ever.
+
+At first his new masters had been careful to keep him from all chance of escape, and Bob led him after the show by a string; but, as he seemed to be getting resigned to his position, allowed him to run loose.
+
+He was trotting tamely at Jem's heels one hot August morning, followed by a small train of admiring children, when all at once he became aware that he was in a street he knew well -- he was near his old home -- a few minutes' hard run and he would be safe with Hilda!
+
+He looked up sideways at Jem, who was beating his drum and blowing his pipes, with his eyes on the lower and upper windows. Bob's head was inside the show, and both were in front and not thinking of him just then.
+
+Dandy stopped, turned round upon the unwashed children behind, looked wistfully up at them, as much as to say, 'Don't tell,' and then bolted at the top of his speed.
+
+There was a shrill cry from the children at once of 'Oh, Mr. Punch, sir, please -- your dawg's a-runnin' away from yer!' and angry calls to return from the two men. Jem even made an attempt to pursue him, but the drum was too much in his way, and a small dog is not easily caught at the best of times when he takes it into his head to run away. So he gave it up sulkily.
+
+Meanwhile Dandy ran on, till the shouts behind died away. Once an errand boy, struck by the parti-coloured frill round the dog's neck, tried to stop him, but he managed to slip past him and run out into the middle of the road, and kept on blindly, narrowly escaping being run over several times by tradesmen's carts.
+
+And at last, panting and exhausted, he reached the well-remembered gate, out of which he had marched so defiantly, it seemed long ages ago.
+
+The railings were covered with wire netting inside, as he knew, but fortunately some one had left the gate open, and he pattered eagerly down the area steps feeling safe and at home at last.
+
+The kitchen door was shut, but the window was not, and, as the sill was low, he contrived to scramble up somehow and jump into the kitchen, where he reckoned upon finding friends to protect him.
+
+But he found it empty, and looking strangely cold and desolate; only a small fire was smouldering in the range, instead of the cheerful blaze he remembered there, and he could not find the cook -- an especial patroness of his -- anywhere.
+
+He scampered up into the hall, making straight for the morning-room, where he knew he should find Hilda curled up in one of the arm-chairs with a book.
+
+But that room was empty too -- the shutters were up, and the half-light which streamed in above them showed a dreary state of confusion: the writing-table was covered with a sheet and put away in a corner, the chairs were piled up on the centre table, the carpet had been taken up and rolled under the sideboard, and there was a faint warm smell of flue and dust and putty in the place.
+
+He pattered out again, feeling puzzled and a little afraid, and went up the bare stone staircase to find Hilda in one of the upper rooms, perhaps in the nursery.
+
+But the upper rooms, too, were all bare and sheeted and ghostly, and, higher up, the stairs were spotted with great stars of whitewash, and there were ladders and planks on which strange men in dirty white blouses were talking and joking a great deal, and doing a little whitewashing now and then, when they had time for it.
+
+Their voices echoed up and down the stairs with a hollow noise that scared him, and he was afraid to venture any higher. Besides, he knew by this time somehow that Hilda, her father and mother, all the friends he had counted upon seeing again, would not be found in any part of that house.
+
+It was the same house, though stripped and deserted, but all the life and colour and warmth had gone out of it; and he ran here and there, seeking for them in vain.
+
+He picked his way forlornly down to the hall again, and there he found a mouldy old woman with a duster pinned over her head and a dustpan and brush in her hand; for, unhappily for him, the family, servants and all, had gone away some days before into the country, and this old woman had been put into the house as caretaker.
+
+She dropped her brush and pan with a start as she saw him, for she was not fond of dogs.
+
+'Why, deary me,' she said morosely, 'if it hasn't give me quite a turn. However did the nasty little beast get in? a-gallivantin' about as if the 'ole place belonged to him.'
+
+Dandy sat up and begged. In the old days he would not have done such a thing for any servant below a cook (who was always worth being polite to), but he felt a very reduced and miserable little animal indeed just then, and he thought she might be able to take him to Hilda.
+
+But the charwoman's only idea was to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
+
+'Why, if it ain't a Toby dawg!' she cried, as her dim old eyes caught sight of his frill. Here, you get out; you don't belong 'ere!'
+
+And she took him up by the scruff of the neck and went to the front door. As she opened it, a sound came from the street outside which Dandy knew only to well: it was the long-drawn squeak of Mr. Punch.
+
+'That's where he come from, I'll bet a penny,' cried the caretaker, and she went down the steps and called over the gate, 'Hi, master, you don't happen to have lost your Toby dawg, do you? Is this him?'
+
+The man with the drum came up -- it was Jem himself; and thereupon Dandy was ignominiously handed over the railings to him, and delivered up once more to the hard life he had so nearly succeeded in shaking off.
+
+He had a severe beating when they got him home, as a warning to him not to rebel again; and he never did try to run away a second time. Where was the good of it? Hilda was gone he did not know where, and the house was a home no longer.
+
+So he went patiently about with the show, a dismal little dog-captive, the dullest little Toby that ever delighted a street audience; so languid and listless at times that Mr. Punch was obliged to rap him really hard on the head before he could induce him to take the slightest notice of him.
+
+But in spite of all this, he made the people laugh; most, perhaps, at night, when the show was lit up by a flaring can of paraffin, and he sat with his feet in Punch's coffin, howling dolefully at the melancholy strains of Jem's pipes, which Dandy always found too much for his feelings.
+
+* * * * *
+
+It was winter time, about a fortnight after Christmas, and the night was snowy and slushy outside, though warm enough in the kitchen of a big Belgravian house. The kitchen was crowded, a stream of waiters and gorgeous powdered footmen and smart maids was perpetually coming and going; in front of the fire a tired little terrier, with a shabby frill round his neck, was basking in the blaze, and near him sat a little dirty-faced man with a red beard, who was being listened to with some attention by a few of the upper servants, who were enjoying a moment's leisure.
+
+'Yes,' he was saying, 'I've been in the purfession a sight o' years now, but I don't know as I ever heard on a Punch's show like me and my mate's bein' engaged for a reg'lar swell evenin' party afore. It shows, to my mind, as public taste is a-coming round -- it ain't quite so low as formerly.'
+
+The little man was Jem; and he, with his partner Bob, and Dandy, were in the house owing to an eccentric notion of its master, who happened to have a taste for experiments.
+
+He agreed with many who consider that some kind of amusement in the intervals of dancing is welcome to children; but it was one of his ideas too that they must be getting a little bored by the inevitable lecture with the dissolving views, and find a conjuror (even after seeing him several times in a fortnight) as a rule more bewildering than amusing; although as a present-producing animal, the last has his compensations.
+
+He was curious to see whether the drama of Punch and Judy had quite lost its old power to please. He could easily have hired an elegant and perfectly refined form of the entertainment from some of the fashionable toy-shops or 'universal providers,' only unfortunately in these improved versions much of the original fun is often found to have been refined away.
+
+So he had decided upon introducing the original Mr. Punch from his native streets and in his natural uncivilised state, and Jem and Bob chanced to be the persons selected to exhibit him.
+
+'Juveniles is all alike,' observed the butler, who, having been commissioned to engage the showmen, condescended to feel a fatherly interest in the affair; ''igh or low, there's nothing pleases 'em more than seeing one party a-fetching another party a thunderin' good whack over the 'ead. That's where, in my opinion, all these pantomimes makes a mistake. There's too much bally and music 'all about 'em and not 'arf enough buttered slide and red-'ot poker.'
+
+'There's plenty of 'ead whackin' in our show,' said Jem, with some pride, 'for my partner, you see, he don't find as the dialogue come as fluid to him as he could wish for, so he cuts a deal of it, and what ain't squeakin' is mostly stick -- like a cheap operer.'
+
+'Your little dog seems very wet and tired,' said a pretty housemaid, bending down to pat Dandy, as he lay stretched out wearily at her feet. 'Would he eat a cake if I got one for him?'
+
+'He ain't, not to say, fed on cakes as a general thing,' said Jem drily, 'but you can try him, miss, and thankee.'
+
+But Dandy only half raised his head and rejected the cake languidly -- he was very comfortable there in the warm firelight, and the place made him feel as if he were back in his own old kitchen, but he was too tired to be hungry.
+
+'He won't hardly look at it,' said the housemaid compassionately. 'I don't think he can be well.'
+
+'Well!' said Jem. 'He's well enough; that's all his contrariness, that is. The fact is, he thinks hisself a deal too good for the likes of us, he do -- thinks he ought to be kep' on chickin in a droring-room!' he sneered, wasting his satire on the unconscious Dandy.
+
+'I tell you what it is, miss: that there dawg's 'art ain't in his business -- he reg'lar looks down on the 'ole concern, thinks it low! Why, I see 'im from the werry fust a-turnin' up his nose at it, and it downright set me against him. Give me a Toby as takes a interest in the drama! The last but one as we had, afore him, now, he used to look on from start to finish, and when Punch went and 'anged Jack Ketch, why, that dawg used to bark and jump about as pleased as Punch 'isself, and he'd go in among the crowd too and fetch back the babby as Punch pitched out o' winder, as tender with it as a Newfunland! And he warn't like the general run of Tobies neither, for he got quite thick with the Punch figger -- thought a deal on 'im, he did -- and if you'll believe me, when I 'ad to get the figger a noo 'ead and costoom, it broke the dawg's 'art -- he pined away quite rapid. But this 'ere one wouldn't turn a 'air if the 'ole company went to blazes together!'
+
+Here Bob, who had been setting up the show in one of the rooms, came into the kitchen, looking rather uneasy at finding himself in such fine company, and Dandy was spared further upbraidings, as he was called upon to follow the pair upstairs.
+
+They went up into a large handsome room, where at one end there were placed rows of rout seats and chairs, and at the other the homely old show, seeming oddly out of place in its new surroundings.
+
+Poor draggled Dandy felt more ashamed of it and himself than ever, and he was glad to get away under its ragged hangings and lie still by Bob's dirty boots till he was wanted.
+
+And then there was the sound of children's voices and laughter as they all came trooping in, with a crisp rustle of delicate dresses and a scent of hothouse flowers and kid gloves, that reached Dandy where he lay: it reminded him of evenings long ago when Hilda had had parties, and he had been washed and combed and decked out in ribbons for the occasion, and children had played with him and given him nice things to eat -- they had generally disagreed with him, but now he could only remember the pleasure and petting of it all.
+
+He would not be petted any more! Presently these children would see him smoking a pipe and being familiar with that low Punch. They would laugh at him too -- they always did -- and Dandy, like most dogs, hated being laughed at, and never took it as a compliment.
+
+The host's experiment was evidently a complete success: the children, even the most blasés, who danced the newest valse step and thought pantomines vulgar, were delighted to meet an old friend so unexpectedly. A good many had often yearned to see the whole show right through from beginning to end, and chance or a stern nurse had never permitted it. Now their time had come, and Mr. Punch, in spite of his lamentable shortcomings in every relation of life, was received with the usual uproarious applause.
+
+At last the hero called for his faithful dog Toby, as a distraction after the painful domestic scenes, in which he had felt himself driven to throw his child out of window and silence the objections of his wife by becoming a widower, and accordingly Dandy was caught up and set on the shelf by his side.
+
+The sudden glare hurt his eyes, and he sat there blinking at the audience with a pitiful want of pride in his dignity as Dog Toby.
+
+He tried to look as if he didn't know Punch, who was doing all he could to catch his eye, for his riotous 'rootitoot' made him shiver nervously, and long to get away from the whole thing and lie down somewhere in peace.
+
+Jem was scowling up at him balefully. 'I know'd that 'ere dawg would go and disgrace hisself,' he was saying to himself. 'When I get him to myself, he shall catch it for this!'
+
+Dandy was able to see better now, and he found, as he had guessed, that here was not one of his usual audiences -- no homely crowd of loitering errand boys, smirched maids-of-all-work, and ragged children jostling and turning their grinning white faces up to him.
+
+There were children here too -- plenty of them -- but children at their best and daintiest, and looking as if untidiness and quarrels were things unknown to them -- though possibly they were not. The laughter, however, was much the same as he was accustomed to, more musical perhaps, and pleasanter to hear, but quite as hearty and unrestrained -- they were laughing at him, and he hung his head abashed.
+
+But all at once he forgot his shame, though he did not remember Mr. Punch a bit the more for that; he ran backwards and forwards on his ledge, sniffing and whining, wagging his tail and giving short piteous barks in a state of the wildest excitement. The reason of it was this: near the end of the front row he saw a little girl who was bending eagerly forward with her pretty grey eyes wide open and a puzzled line on her forehead.
+
+Dandy knew her at the very first glance. It was Hilda, looking more like a fairy princess than ever.
+
+She knew him almost as soon, for her clear voice rang out above the general laughter. 'Oh, that isn't Toby -- he's my own dog, my Dandy, that I lost! It is really; let him come to me, please do! Don't you see how badly he wants to?'
+
+There was a sudden surprised silence at this -- even Mr. Punch was quiet for an instant; but as soon as Dandy heard her voice he could wait no longer, and crouched for a spring.
+
+'Catch the dog, somebody, he's going to jump!' cried the master of the house, more amused than ever, from behind.
+
+Jem was too sulky to interfere, but some good-natured grown-up person caught the trembling dog just in time to save him from a broken leg, or worse, and handed him to his delighted little mistress; and I think the frantic joy which Dandy felt as he was clasped tight in her loving arms once more and covered her flushed face with his eager kisses more than made up for all he had suffered.
+
+Hilda scornfully refused to have anything to do with Jem, who tried hard to convince her she was mistaken. She took her recovered favourite to her hostess.
+
+'He really is mine!' she assured her earnestly; and he doesn't want to be a Toby, I'm sure he doesn't: see how he trembles when that horrid man comes near. Dear Mrs. Lovibond, please tell them I'm to have him!'
+
+And of course Hilda carried her point, for the showmen were not unwilling, after a short conversation with the master of the house, to give up their rights in a dog who would never be much of an ornament to their profession, and was out of health into the bargain.
+
+Hilda held Dandy, all muddy and draggled as he was, fast in her arms all through the remainder of the performance, as if she was afraid Mr. Punch might still claim him for his own; and the dog lay there in measureless content. The hateful squeak made him start and shiver no more; he was too happy to howl at Jem's dismal pipes and drum: they had no terrors for him any more.
+
+'I think I should like to go home now,' she said to her hostess, when Mr. Punch had finally retired. 'Dandy is so excited; feel how his heart beats, just there, you know; he ought to be in bed, and I want to tell them all at home so much!'
+
+She resisted all despairing entreaties to stay, from several small partners who felt life a blank after she had gone -- till supper came; and so her carriage was called, and she and Dandy drove home in it together once more.
+
+'Dandy, you're very quiet,' she said once, as they bowled easily and swiftly along. 'Aren't you going to tell me you're glad to be mine again?'
+
+But Dandy could only wag his tail feebly and look up in her face with an exhausted sigh. He had suffered much and was almost worn out; but rest was coming to him at last.
+
+As soon as the carriage had stopped and the door was opened, Hilda ran in, breathless with excitement.
+
+'Oh, Parker, look!' she cried to the maid in the hall, 'Dandy is found -- he's here!'
+
+The maid took the lifeless little body from her, looked at it for a moment under the lamp, and turned away without speaking. Then she placed it gently in Hilda's arms again.
+
+'Oh, Miss Hilda, didn't you see?' she said, with a catch in her voice. 'Don't take on, now; but it's come too late -- poor little dog, he's gone!'
+
+ACCOMPANIED ON THE FLUTE.
+
+A TALE OF ANCIENT ROME.
+
+[Illustration: T]
+
+The Consul Duilius was entering Rome in triumph after his celebrated defeat of the Carthaginian fleet at Mylæ. He had won a great naval victory for his country with the first fleet that it had ever possessed -- which was naturally a gratifying reflection, and he would have been perfectly happy now, if he had only been a little more comfortable.
+
+But he was standing in an extremely rickety chariot, which was crammed with his nearer relations and a few old friends, to whom he had been obliged to send tickets. At his back stood a slave who held a heavy Etruscan crown on the Consul's head, and whenever he thought his master was growing conceited, threw in the reminder that he was only a man after all -- a liberty which at any other time he might have had good reason to regret.
+
+Then the large Delphic wreath, which Duilius wore as well as the crown, had slipped down over one eye and was tickling his nose, while -- as both his hands were occupied, one with a sceptre, the other with a laurel bough, and he had to hold on tightly to the rail of the chariot whenever it jolted -- there was nothing to do but suffer in silence.
+
+They had insisted, too, upon painting him a beautiful bright red all over, and though it made him look quite new, and very shining and splendid, he had his doubts at times whether it was altogether becoming, and particularly, whether he would ever be able to get it off again.
+
+But these were but trifles after all, and nothing compared with the honour and glory of it! Was not everybody straining to catch a glimpse of him? Did not even the spotted and skittish horses which drew the chariot repeatedly turn round to gaze upon his vermilioned features? As Duilius remarked this, he felt that he was, indeed, the central personage in all this magnificence, and that, on the whole, he liked it.
+
+He could see the beaks of the ships he had captured, bobbing up and down in the middle distance; he could see the white bulls destined for sacrifice entering completely into the spirit of the thing, and redeeming the procession from any monotony by occasionally bolting down a back street, or tossing on their gilded horns some of the flamens who were walking solemnly in front of them.
+
+He could hear, too, above five distinct brass bands, the remarks of his friends as they predicted rain, or expressed a pained surprise at the smallness of the crowd and the absence of any genuine enthusiasm; and he caught the general purport of the very offensive ribaldry circulated at his own expense among the brave legions that brought up the rear.
+
+This was merely the usual course of things on such occasions, and a great compliment when properly understood, and Duilius felt it to be so. In spite of his friends, and the red paint, and the familiar slave, in spite of the extreme heat of the weather and his itching nose, he told himself that this -- and this alone -- was worth living for.
+
+And it was a painful reflection to him that, after all, it would only last a day: he could not go on triumphing like this for the remainder of his natural life -- he would not be able to afford it on his moderate income; and yet -- and yet -- existence would fall woefully flat after so much excitement.
+
+It may be supposed that Duilius was naturally fond of ostentation and notoriety, but this was far from being the case; on the contrary, at ordinary times his disposition was retiring and almost shy; but his sudden success had worked a temporary change in him, and in the very flush of triumph he found himself sighing to think that, in all human probability, he would never go about with trumpeters and trophies, with flute-players and white oxen, any more in his whole life.
+
+And then he reached the Porta Triumphalis, where the chief magistrates and the Senate awaited them, all seated upon spirited Roman-nosed chargers, which showed a lively emotion at the approach of the procession, and caused some of their riders to dismount, with as much affectation of method and design as their dignity enjoined and the nature of the occasion permitted.
+
+There Duilius was presented with the freedom of the City and an address, which last he put in his pocket, as he explained, to read at home.
+
+And then an Ædile informed him in a speech, during which he twice lost his notes and had to be prompted by a lictor, that the grateful Republic, taking into consideration the Consul's distinguished services, had resolved to disregard expense, and on that auspicious day to give him whatever reward he might choose to demand -- 'in reason,' the Ædile added cautiously, as he quitted his saddle with an unexpectedness which scarcely seemed intentional.
+
+Duilius was naturally a little overwhelmed by such liberality, and, like everyone else favoured suddenly with such an opportunity, was quite incapable of taking complete advantage of it.
+
+For a time he really could not remember in his confusion anything he would care for at all, and he thought it might look mean to ask for money.
+
+At last he recalled his yearning for a Perpetual Triumph, but his natural modesty made him moderate, and he could not find courage to ask for more than a fraction of the glory that now attended him.
+
+So, not without some hesitation, he replied that they were exceedingly kind, and since they left it entirely to his discretion, he would like -- if they had no objection -- he would like a flute-player to attend him whenever he went out.
+
+Duilius very nearly asked for a white bull as well; but, on second thoughts, he felt it might lead to inconvenience, and there were many difficulties connected with the proper management of such an animal; the Consul, from what he had seen that day, felt that it would be imprudent to trust himself in front of the bull -- while, if he walked behind, he might be mistaken for a cattle-driver, which would be odious. And so he gave up that idea, and contented himself with a simple flute-player.
+
+The Senate, visibly relieved by so very unassuming a request, granted it with positive effusion; Duilius was invited to select his musician, and chose the biggest, after which the procession moved on through the Arch and up the Capitoline Hill, while the Consul had time to remember things he would have liked even better than a flute-player, and to suspect dimly that he might have made rather an ass of himself.
+
+* * * * *
+
+That night Duilius was entertained at a supper given at the public expense; he went out with the proud resolve to show his sense of the compliment paid him by scaling the giddiest heights of intoxication. The Romans of that day only drank wine and water at their festivals, but it is astonishing how inebriated a person of powerful will can become -- even on wine and water -- if he only gives his mind to it. And Duilius, being a man of remarkable determination, returned from that hospitable board particularly drunk; the flute-player saw him home, however, helped him to bed, though he could not induce him to take off his sandals, and lulled him to a heavy slumber by a selection from the popular airs of the time.
+
+So that the Consul, although he awoke late next day with a bad headache and a perception of the vanity of most things, still found reason to congratulate himself upon his forethought in securing so invaluable an attendant, and planned, rather hopefully, sundry little ways of making him useful about the house.
+
+As the subsequent history of this great naval commander is examined with the impartiality that becomes the historian, it is impossible to be blind to the melancholy fact that, in the first flush of his elation, Duilius behaved with an utter want of tact and taste that must have gone far to undermine his popularity, and proved a source of much gratification to his friends.
+
+He would use that flute-player everywhere -- he overdid the thing altogether: for example, he used to go out to pay formal calls, and leave the flute-player in the hall, tootling to such an extent that at last his acquaintances were forced in self-defence to deny themselves to him.
+
+When he attended worship at the temples, too, he would bring the flute-player with him, on the flimsy pretext that he could assist the choir during service; and it was the same at the theatres, where Duilius -- such was his arrogance -- actually would not take a box unless the manager admitted his flute-player to the orchestra and guaranteed him at least one solo between the acts.
+
+And it was the Consul's constant habit to strut about the Forum with his musician executing marches behind him, until the spectacle became so utterly ridiculous that even the Romans of that age, who were as free from the slightest taint of humour as a self-respecting nation can possibly be, began to notice something peculiar.
+
+But the day of retribution dawned at last. Duilius worked the flute so incessantly that the musician's stock of airs was very soon exhausted, and then he was naturally obliged to blow them all through once more.
+
+The excellent Consul had not a fine ear, but even he began to hail the fiftieth repetition of 'Pugnare nolumus,' for instance -- the great national peace anthem of the period -- with the feeling that he had heard the same tune at least twice before, and preferred something slightly fresher, while others had taken a much shorter time in arriving at the same conclusion.
+
+The elder Duilius, the Consul's father, was perhaps the most annoyed by it; he was a nice old man in his way -- the glass and china way -- but he was a typical old Roman, with a manly contempt for pomp, vanity, music, and the fine arts generally.
+
+So that his son's flute-player, performing all day in the court-yard, drove the old gentleman nearly mad, until he would rush to the windows and hurl the lighter articles of furniture at the head of the persistent musician, who, however, after dodging them with dexterity, affected to treat them as a recognition of his efforts, and carried them away gratefully to sell.
+
+Duilius senior would have smashed the flute, only it was never laid aside for a single instant, even at meals; he would have made the player drunk and incapable, but he was a member of the Manus Spei, and he would with cheerfulness have given him a heavy bribe to go away, if the honest fellow had not proved absolutely incorruptible.
+
+So he could only sit down and swear, and then relieve his feelings by giving his son a severe thrashing, with threats to sell him for whatever he might fetch: for, in the curious conditions of ancient Roman society, a father possessed both these rights, however his offspring might have distinguished himself in public life.
+
+Naturally, Duilius did not like the idea of being put up to auction, and he began to feel that it was slightly undignified for a Roman general who had won a naval victory and been awarded a first-class Triumph to be undergoing corporal punishment daily at the hands of an unflinching parent, and accordingly he determined to go and expostulate with his flute-player.
+
+He was beginning to find him a nuisance himself, for all his old shy reserve and unwillingness to attract attention had returned to him; he was fond of solitude, and yet he could never be alone; he was weary of doing everything to slow music, like the bold bad man in a melodrama.
+
+He could not even go across the street to purchase a postage-stamp without the flute-player coming stalking out after him, playing away like a public fountain; while, owing to the well-known susceptibility of a rabble to the charm of music, the disgusted Consul had to take his walks abroad at the head of Rome's choicest scum.
+
+Duilius, with a lively recollection of these inconveniences, would have spoken very seriously indeed to his musician, but he shrank from hurting his feelings by the plain truth. He simply explained that he had not intended the other to accompany him always, but only on special occasions; and, while professing the sincerest admiration for his musical proficiency, he felt, as he said, unwilling to monopolise it, and unable to enjoy it at the expense of a fellow-creature's rest and comfort.
+
+Perhaps he put the thing a little too delicately to secure the object he had in view, for the musician, although he was obviously deeply touched by such unwonted consideration, waived it aside with a graceful fervour that was quite irresistible.
+
+He assured the Consul that he was only too happy to have been selected to render his humble tribute to the naval genius of so eminent a commander; he would not admit that his own rest and comfort were in the least affected by his exertions, for, being naturally fond of the flute, he could, he protested, perform upon it continuously for whole days without fatigue. And he concluded by pointing out very respectfully that for the Consul to dispense, even to a small extent, with an honour decreed (at his own particular request) by the Republic, would have the appearance of ingratitude, and expose him to the gravest suspicions. After which he rendered the ancient love chant 'Ludus idem, ludus vetus,' with singular sweetness and expression.
+
+Duilius felt the force of his arguments: Republics are proverbially forgetful, and he was aware that it might not be safe, even for him, to risk offending the Senate.
+
+So he had nothing to do but just go on, and be followed about by the flute-player, and castigated by his parent in the old familiar way, until he had very little self-respect left.
+
+At last he found a distraction in his care-laden existence -- he fell deeply in love. But even here a musical Nemesis attended him, to his infinite embarrassment, in the person of his devoted follower. Sometimes Duilius would manage to elude him and slip out unseen to some sylvan retreat, where he had reason to hope for a meeting with the object of his adoration. He generally found that in this expectation he had not deceived himself; but always, just as he had found courage to speak of the passion that consumed him, a faint tune would strike his ear from afar, and, turning his head in a fury, he would see his faithful flute-player striding over the fields in pursuit of him with unquenchable ardour.
+
+He gave in at last, and submitted to the necessity of speaking all his tender speeches 'through music.' Claudia did not seem to mind it, perhaps finding an additional romance in being wooed thus, and Duilius himself, who was not eloquent, found that the flute came in very well at awkward pauses in the conversation.
+
+Then they were married, and, as Claudia played very nicely herself upon the tibiæ, she got up musical evenings, when she played duets with the flute-player, which Duilius, if he had only had a little more taste for music, might have enjoyed immensely.
+
+As it was, beginning to observe for the first time that the musician was far from uncomely, he forbade the duets. Claudia wept and sulked, and Claudia's mother said that Duilius was behaving like a brute, and she was not to mind him; but the harmony of their domestic life was broken, until the poor Consul was driven to take long country walks in sheer despair, not because he was fond of walking, for he hated it, but simply to keep the flute-player out of mischief.
+
+He was now debarred from all other society, for his old friends had long since cut him dead whenever he chanced to meet them. 'How could he expect people to stop and talk,' they asked indignantly, 'when there was that confounded fellow blowing tunes down the backs of their necks all the time?'
+
+Duilius had had enough of it himself, and felt this so strongly that one day he took his flute-player a long walk through a lonely wood, and, choosing a moment when his companion had played 'Id omnes faciunt' till he was somewhat out of breath, he turned on him suddenly. When he left the lonely wood he was alone, and somewhere in the undergrowth lay a broken flute, and near it something which looked as if it might once have been a musician.
+
+The Consul went home and sat there waiting for the deed to become generally known. He waited with a certain uneasiness, because it was impossible to tell how the Senate might take the thing, or the means by which their vengeance would declare itself.
+
+And yet his uneasiness was counterbalanced by a delicious relief: the State might disgrace, banish, put him to death even, but he had got rid of slow music for ever; and as he thought of this, the stately Duilius would snap his fingers and dance with secret delight.
+
+All disposition to dance, however, was forgotten upon the arrival of lictors bearing an official missive. He looked at it for a long time before he dared to break the big seal and cut the cord which bound the tablets which might contain his doom.
+
+He did it at last, and smiled with relief as he began to read; for the decree was courteously, almost affectionately, worded. The Senate, considering (or affecting to consider) the disappearance of the flute-player a mere accident, expressed their formal regret at the failure of the provision made in his honour.
+
+Then, as he read on, Duilius dashed the tablets into small fragments, and rolled on the ground, and tore his hair, and howled: for the Senatorial decree concluded by a declaration that, in consideration of his brilliant exploits, the State thereby placed at his disposal two more flute-players, who, it was confidently hoped, would survive the wear and tear of their ministrations longer than the first.
+
+Duilius retired to his room and made his will, taking care to have it properly signed and attested. Then he fastened himself in, and when they broke down the door next day, they found a lifeless corpse, with a strange sickly smile upon its pale lips.
+
+No one in Rome quite made out the reason of this smile, but it was generally thought to denote the gratification of the deceased at the idea of leaving his beloved ones in comfort, if not luxury; for, though the bulk of his fortune was left to Carthaginian charities, he had had the forethought to bequeath a flute-player apiece to his wife and mother-in-law.
+
+APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.
+
+PUBLISHED SEMIMONTHLY.
+
+1. The Steel Hammer. By LOUIS ULBACH.
+
+2. Eve. A Novel. By S. BARING-GOULD.
+
+3. For Fifteen Years. A Sequel to The Steel Hammer. By LOUIS ULBACH.
+
+4. A Counsel of Perfection. A Novel. By LUCAS MALET.
+
+5. The Deemster. A Romance. By HALL CAINE.
+
+5-1/2. The Bondman. (New edition.) By HALL CAINE.
+
+6. A Virginia Inheritance. By EDMUND PENDLETON.
+
+7. Ninette: An Idyll of Provence. By the author of Véra.
+
+8. "The Right Honourable." By JUSTIN MCCARTHY and Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+9. The Silence of Dean Maitland. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+10. Mrs. Lorimer: A Study in Black and White. By LUCAS MALET.
+
+11. The Elect Lady. By GEORGE MACDONALD.
+
+12. The Mystery of the "Ocean Star." By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+13. Aristocracy. A Novel.
+
+14. A Recoiling Vengeance. By FRANK BARRETT. With Illustrations.
+
+15. The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix. By MARGARET FIELD.
+
+16. The Master of Rathkelly. By HAWLEY SMART.
+
+17. Donovan: A Modern Englishman. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+18. This Mortal Coil. By GRANT ALLEN.
+
+19. A Fair Emigrant. By ROSA MULHOLLAND.
+
+20. The Apostate. By ERNEST DAUDET.
+
+21. Raleigh Westgate; or, Epimenides in Maine. By HELEN KENDRICK JOHNSON.
+
+22. Arius the Libyan;. A Romance of the Primitive Church.
+
+23. Constance, and Calbot's Rival. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
+
+24. We Two. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+25. A Dreamer of Dreams. By the author of Thoth.
+
+26. The Ladies' Gallery. By JUSTIN MCCARTHY and Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+27. The Reproach of Annesley. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+28. Near to Happiness.
+
+29. In the Wire Grass. By LOUIS PENDLETON.
+
+30. Lace. A Berlin Romance. By PAUL LINDAU.
+
+30-1/2. The Black Poodle. By F. ANSTEY.
+
+31. American Coin. A Novel. By the author of Aristocracy.
+
+32. Won by Waiting. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+33. The Story of Helen Davenant. By VIOLET FANE.
+
+34. The Light of Her Countenance. By H. H. BOYESEN.
+
+35. Mistress Beatrice Cope. By M. E. LE CLERC.
+
+36. The Knight-Errant. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+37. In the Golden Days. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+38. Giraldi; or, The Curse of Love. By ROSS GEORGE DERING.
+
+39. A Hardy Norseman. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+40. The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, and Sketches of Maritime Life. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+41. Passion's Slave. By RICHARD ASHE-KING.
+
+42. The Awakening of Mary Fenwick. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+43. Countess Loreley. Translated from the German of RUDOLF MENGER.
+
+44. Blind Love. By WILKIE COLLINS.
+
+45. The Dean's Daughter. By SOPHIE F. F. VEITCH.
+
+46. Countess Irene. A Romance of Austrian Life. By J. FOGERTY.
+
+47. Robert Browning's Principal Shorter Poems.
+
+48. Frozen Hearts. By G. WEBB APPLETON.
+
+49. Djambek the Georgian. By A.G. VON SUTTNER.
+
+50. The Craze of Christian Engelhart. By HENRY FAULKNER DARNELL.
+
+51. Lal. By WILLIAM A. HAMMOND, M. D.
+
+52. Aline. A Novel. By HENRY GRÉVILLE.
+
+53. Joost Avelingh. A Dutch Story. By MAARTEN MAARTENS.
+
+54. Katy of Catoctin. By GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND.
+
+55. Throckmorton. A Novel. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+56. Erpatriaton. By the author of Aristocracy.
+
+57. Geoffrey Hampstead. By T. S. JARVIS.
+
+58. Dmitri. A Romance of Old Russia. By F.W. BAIN, M.A.
+
+59. Part of the Property. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+60. Bismarck in Private Life. By a Fellow-Student.
+
+61. In Low Relief. By MORLEY ROBERTS.
+
+62. The Canadians of Old. A Historical Romance. By PHILIPPE GASPÉ.
+
+63. A Squire of Low Degree. By LILY A. LONG.
+
+64. A Fluttered Dovecote. By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
+
+65. The Nugents of Carriconna. An Irish Story. By TIGHE HOPKINS.
+
+66. A Sensitive Plant. By E. and D. GERARD.
+
+67. Doña Luz. By JUAN VALERA. Translated by Mrs. MARY J. SERRANO.
+
+68. Pepita Ximenez. By JUAN VALERA. Translated by Mrs. MARY J. SERRANO.
+
+69. The Primes and their Neighbors. By RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.
+
+70. The Iron Game. By HENRY F. KEENAN.
+
+71. Stories of Old New Spain. By THOMAS A. JANVIER.
+
+72. The Maid of Honor. By Hon. LEWIS WINGFIELD.
+
+73. In the Heart of the Storm. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+74. Consequences. By EGERTON CASTLE.
+
+75. The Three Miss Kings. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+76. A Matter of Skill. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+77. Maid Marian, and Other Stories. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+78. One Woman's Way. By EDMUND PENDLETON.
+
+79. A Merciful Divorce. By F. W. MAUDE.
+
+80. Stephen Ellicott's Daughter. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+81. One Reason Why. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+82. The Tragedy of Ida Noble. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+83. The Johnstown Stage, and other Stories. By ROBERT H. FLETCHER.
+
+84. A Widower Indeed. By RHODA BROUGHTON and ELIZABETH BISLAND.
+
+85. The Flight of a Shadow. By GEORGE MACDONALD.
+
+86. Love or Money. By KATHARINE LEE.
+
+87. Not All in Vain. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+88. It Happened Yesterday. By FREDERICK MARSHALL.
+
+89. My Guardian. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+90. The Story of Philip Methuen. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+91. Amethyst; The Story of a Beauty. By CHRISTABEL R. COLERIDGE.
+
+92. Don Braulio. By JUAN VALERA. Translated By CLARA BELL.
+
+93. The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams. By RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.
+
+94. A Queen of Curds and Cream. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+95. "La Bella" and Others. By EGERTON CASTLE.
+
+96. "December Roses." By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+97. Jean de Kerdren. By JEANNE SCHULTZ.
+
+98. Etelka's Vow. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+99. Cross Currents. By MARY A. DICKENS.
+
+100. His Life's Magnet. By THEODORA ELMSLIE.
+
+101. Passing the Love of Women. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+102. In Old St. Stephen's. By JEANIE DRAKE.
+
+103. The Berkeleys and their Neighbors. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+104. Mona Maclean, Medical Student. By GRAHAM TRAVERS.
+
+105. Mrs. Bligh. By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+106. A Stumble on the Threshold. By JAMES PAYN.
+
+107. Hanging Moss. By PAUL LINDAU.
+
+108. A Comedy of Elopement. By CHRISTIAN REID.
+
+109. In the Suntime of her Youth. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+110. Stories in Black and White. By THOMAS HARDY and Others.
+
+110-1/2. An Englishman in Paris. Notes and Recollections.
+
+111. Commander Mendoza. By JUAN VALERA.
+
+112. Dr. Paull's Theory. By Mrs. A. M. DIEHL.
+
+113. Children of Destiny. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+114. A Little Minx. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+115. Capt'n Davy's Honeymoon. By HALL CAINE.
+
+116. The Voice of a Flower. By E. GERARD.
+
+117. Singularly Deluded. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+118. Suspected. By LOUISA STRATENUS.
+
+119. Lucia, Hugh, and Another. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+120. The Tutor's Secret. By VICTOR CHERBULIEZ.
+
+121. From the Five Rivers. By Mrs. F. A. STEEL.
+
+122. An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+123. Ideala. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+124. A Comedy of Masks. By ERNEST DOWSON and ARTHUR MOORE.
+
+125. Relics. By FRANCES MACNAB.
+
+126. Dodo: A Detail of the Day. By E. F. BENSON.
+
+127. A Woman of Forty. By ESMÈ STUART.
+
+128. Diana Tempest. By MARY CHOLMONDELEY.
+
+129. The Recipe for Diamonds. By C. J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE.
+
+130. Christina Chard. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+131. A Gray Eye or So. By FRANK FRANKFORT MOORE.
+
+132. Earlscourt. By ALEXANDER ALLARDYCE.
+
+133. A Marriage Ceremony. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+134. A Ward in Chancery. By Mrs. ALEXANDER.
+
+135. Lot 13. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+136. Our Manifold Nature. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+137. A Costly Freak. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+138. A Beginner. By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+139. A Yellow Aster. By Mrs. MANNINGTON CAFFYN ("IOTA").
+
+140. The Rubicon. By E. F. BENSON.
+
+141. The Trespasser. By GILBERT PARKER.
+
+142. The Rich Miss Riddell. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+143. Mary Fenwick's Daughter. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+144. Red Diamonds. By JUSTIN MCCARTHY.
+
+145. A Daughter of Music. By G. COLMORE.
+
+146. Outlaw and Lawmaker. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+147. Dr. Janet of Harley Street. By ARABELLA KENEALY.
+
+148. George Mandeville's Husband. By C. E. RAIMOND.
+
+149. Vashti and Esther.
+
+150. Timar's Two Worlds. By M. JOKAI.
+
+151. A Victim of Good Luck. By W. E. NORRIS.
+
+152. The Trail of the Sword. By GILBERT PARKER.
+
+153. A Mild Barbarian. By EDGAR FAWCETT.
+
+154. The God in the Car. By ANTHONY HOPE.
+
+155. Children of Circumstance. By Mrs. M. CAFFYN.
+
+156. At the Gate of Samaria. By WILLIAM J. LOCKE.
+
+157. The Justification of Andrew Lebrun. By FRANK BARRETT.
+
+158. Dust and Laurels. By MARY L. PENDERED.
+
+159. The Good Ship Mohock. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+160. Noémi. By S. BARING-GOULD.
+
+161. The Honour of Savelli. By S. LEVETT YEATS.
+
+162. Kitty's Engagement. By FLORENCE WARDEN.
+
+163. The Mermaid. By L. DOUGALL.
+
+164. An Arranged Marriage. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+165. Eve's Ransom. By GEORGE GISSING.
+
+166. The Marriage of Esther. By GUY BOOTHBY.
+
+167. Fidelis. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+168. Into the Highways and Hedges. By F. F. MONTRÉSOR.
+
+169. The Vengeance of James Vansittart. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+170. A Study in Prejudices. By GEORGE PASTON.
+
+171. The Mistress of Quest. By ADELINE SERGEANT.
+
+172. In the Year of Jubilee. By GEORGE GISSING.
+
+173. In Old New England. By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
+
+174. Mrs. Musgrave -- and Her Husband. By R. MARSH.
+
+175. Not Counting the Cost. By TASMA.
+
+176. Out of Due Season. By ADELINE SERGEANT.
+
+177. Scylla or Charybdis? By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+178. In Defiance of the King. By C. C. HOTCHKISS.
+
+179. A Bid for Fortune. By GUY BOOTHBY.
+
+180. The King of Andaman. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
+
+181. Mrs. Tregaskiss. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+182. The Desire of the Moth. By CAPEL VANE.
+
+183. A Self-Denying Ordinance. By M. HAMILTON.
+
+184. Successors to the Title. By Mrs. L. B. WALFORD. The Lost Stradivarius. By J. MEADE FALKNER.
+
+186. The Wrong Man. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+187. In the Day of Adversity By J. BLOUNDELLE-BURTON.
+
+188. Mistress Dorothy Marvin. By J. C. SNAITH.
+
+189. A Flash of Summer. By Mrs. W. K. CLIFFORD.
+
+Each, 12mo, paper cover, 60 cents; cloth, $1.00,
+
+GEORG EBERS'S ROMANCES.
+
+Each, 16mo, paper, 4O cents per volume; cloth, 75 cents. Sets of 24 volumes, cloth, in box, $18.00.
+
+In the Blue Pike. A Romance of German Life in the early Sixteenth Century. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+In the Fire of the Forge. A Romance of Old Nuremberg. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 2 volumes.
+
+Cleopatra. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 2 volumes.
+
+A Thorny Path. (PER ASPERA.) Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+An Egyptian Princess. Translated by ELEANOR GROVE. 2 volumes.
+
+Uarda. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Homo Sum. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+The Sisters. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+A Question. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+The Emperor. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+The Burgomaster's Wife. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+A Word, only a Word. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+Serapis. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+The Bride of the Nile. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Margery. (GRED.) Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Joshua. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+The Elixir, and Other Tales. Translated by Mrs. EDWARD H. BELL. With Portrait of the Author. 1 volume.
+
+"Dr. Ebers's romances founded on ancient history are hardly equaled by any other living author.... He makes the men and women and the scenes move before the reader with living reality." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"Georg Ebers writes stories of ancient times with the conscientiousness of a true investigator. His tales are so carefully told that large portions of them might be clipped or quoted by editors of guide-books and authors of histories intended to be popular." -- New York Herald.
+
+For sale by all booksellers; or sent by mail on receipt of price by the publishers.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
+
+SLEEPING FIRES. By GEORGE GISSING, author of "In the Year of Jubilee," "Eve's Ransom," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+In this striking story the author has treated an original motive with rare self-command and skill. His book is most interesting as a story, and remarkable as a literary performance.
+
+STONEPASTURES. By ELEANOR STUART. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"This is a strong bit of good literary workmanship.... The book has the value of being a real sketch of our own mining regions, and of showing how, even in the apparently dull round of work, there is still material for a good bit of literature." -- Philadelphia Ledger.
+
+COURTSHIP BY COMMAND. By M. M. BLAKE. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"A bright, moving study of an unusually interesting period in the life of Napoleon, ... deliciously told; the characters are clearly, strongly, and very delicately modeled, and the touches of color most artistically done. 'Courtship by Command' is the most satisfactory Napoleon bonne-bouche we have had." -- New York Commercial Advertiser.
+
+THE WATTER'S MOU'. By BRAM STOKER. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"Here is a tale to stir the most sluggish nature.... It is like standing on the deck of a wave-tossed ship; you feel the soul of the storm go into your blood." -- N. Y. Home Journal.
+
+"The characters are strongly drawn, the descriptions are intensely dramatic, and the situations are portrayed with rare vividness of language. It is a thrilling story, told with great power." -- Boston Advertiser.
+
+MASTER AND MAN. By Count LEO TOLSTOY. With an Introduction by W. D. HOWELLS. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"Crowded with these characteristic touches which mark his literary work." -- Public Opinion.
+
+"Reveals a wonderful knowledge of the workings of the human mind, and it tells a tale that not only stirs the emotions, but gives us a better insight into our own hearts." -- San Francisco Argonaut.
+
+THE ZEIT-GEIST. By L. DOUGALL, author of "The Mermaid," "Beggars All," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"One of the best of the short stories of the day." -- Boston Journal.
+
+"One of the most remarkable novels of the year." -- New York Commercial Advertiser.
+
+"Powerful in conception, treatment, and influence." -- Boston Globe.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+A STREET IN SUBURBIA. By EDWIN PUGH. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Simplicity of style, strength, and delicacy of character study will mark this book as one of the most significant of the year." -- New York Press.
+
+"Thoroughly entertaining, and more -- it shows traces of a creative genius something akin to Dickens." -- Boston Traveller.
+
+"In many respects the best of all the books of lighter literature brought out this season." -- Providence News.
+
+"Highly pleasing and gracefully recorded reminiscences of early suburban life and youthful experience told in a congenial spirit and in very charming prose." -- Boston Courier.
+
+MAJESTY. A Novel. By LOUIS COUPERUS. Translated by A. TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS and ERNEST DOWSON. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"There have been many workers among novelists in the field of royal portraiture, but it may be safely stated that few of those who have essayed this dubious path have achieved more striking results than M. Couperus. 'Majesty' is an extraordinarily vivid romance of autocratic imperialism." -- London Academy.
+
+"No novelist whom we can call to mind has ever given the world such a masterpiece of royal portraiture as Louis Couperus's striking romance entitled 'Majesty.'" -- Philadelphia Record.
+
+"There is not an uninteresting page in the book, and it ought to be read by all who desire to keep in line with the best that is published in modern fiction." -- Buffalo Commercial.
+
+THE NEW MOON. By C. E. RAIMOND, author of "George Mandeville's Husband," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"A delicate pathos makes itself felt as the narrative progresses, whose cadences fall on the spirit's consciousness with a sweet and soothing influence not to be measured in words." -- Boston Courier.
+
+"One of the most impressive of recent works of fiction, both for its matter and especially for its presentation." -- Milwaukee Journal.
+
+"An intensely interesting story. A curious interweaving of old superstitions which govern a nervous woman's selfish life, and the brisk, modern ways of a wholesome English girl." -- Philadelphia Ledger.
+
+THE WISH. A Novel. By HERMANN SUDERMANN. With a Biographical Introduction by ELIZABETH LEE. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Contains some superb specimens of original thought." -- New York World.
+
+"The style is direct and incisive, and holds the unflagging attention of the reader." -- Boston Journal.
+
+"A powerful story, very simple, very direct." -- Chicago Evening Post.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+GILBERT PARKER'S BEST BOOKS.
+
+THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Being the Memoirs of Captain ROBERT MORAY, sometime an Officer in the Virginia Regiment, and afterward of Amherst's Regiment. 12mo. Cloth, illustrated, $1.50.
+
+For the time of his story Mr. Parker has chosen the most absorbing period of the romantic eighteenth-century history of Quebec. The curtain rises soon after General Braddock's defeat in Virginia, and the hero, a prisoner in Quebec, curiously entangled in the intrigues of La Pompadour, becomes a part of a strange history, full of adventure and the stress of peril, which culminates only after Wolfe's victory over Montcalm. The material offered by the life and history of old Quebec has never been utilized for the purposes of fiction with the command of plot and incident, the mastery of local color, and the splendid realization of dramatic situations shown in this distinguished and moving romance. The illustrations preserve the atmosphere of the text, for they present the famous buildings, gates, and battle grounds as they appeared at the time of the hero's imprisonment in Quebec.
+
+THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. A Novel. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Mr. Parker here adds to a reputation already wide, and anew demonstrates his power of pictorial portrayal and of strong dramatic situation and climax." -- Philadelphia Bulletin.
+
+"The tale holds the reader's interest from first to last, for it is full of fire and spirit, abounding in incident, and marked by good character drawing." -- Pittsburg Times.
+
+THE TRESPASSER. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Interest, pith, force, and charm -- Mr. Parker's new story possesses all these qualities.... Almost bare of synthetical decoration, his paragraphs are stirring because they are real. We read at times -- as we have read the great masters of romance -- breathlessly." -- The Critic.
+
+"Gilbert Parker writes a strong novel, but thus far this is his masterpiece.... It is one of the great novels of the year." -- Boston Advertiser.
+
+THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 16mo. Flexible cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"A book which no one will be satisfied to put down until the end has been matter of certainty and assurance." -- The Nation.
+
+"A story of remarkable interest, originality, and ingenuity of construction." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"The perusal of this romance will repay those who care for new and original types of character, and who are susceptible to the fascination of a fresh and vigorous style." -- London Daily News.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+There is a flavor of Dumas's Musketeers in the life of the redoubtable Brigadier Gerard, a typical Napoleonic soldier, more fortunate than many of his compeers because some of his Homeric exploits were accomplished under the personal observation of the Emperor. His delightfully romantic career included an oddly characteristic glimpse of England, and his adventures ranged from the battlefield to secret service. In picturing the experiences of his fearless, hard-fighting and hard-drinking hero, the author of "The White Company" has given us a book which absorbs the interest and quickens the pulse of every reader.
+
+THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS. Being a Series of Twelve Letters written by STARK MUNRO, M. B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. Illustrated. 12mo. Buckram, $1.50.
+
+"Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock Holmes, and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him." -- Richard le Gallienne, in the London Star.
+
+"Every one who wants a hearty laugh must make acquaintance with Dr. James Cullingworth." -- Westminster Gazette.
+
+"Every one must read; for not to know Cullingworth should surely argue one's self to be unknown." -- Pall Mall Gazette.
+
+"One of the freshest figures to be met with in any recent fiction." -- London Daily News.
+
+"'The Stark Munro Letters' is a bit of real literature.... Its reading will be an epoch-making event in many a life." -- Philadelphia Evening Telegraph.
+
+"Positively magnetic, and written with that combined force and grace for which the author's style is known." -- Boston Budget.
+
+SEVENTH EDITION.
+
+ROUND THE RED LAMP. Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Too much can not be said in praise of these strong productions, that, to read, keep one's heart leaping to the throat and the mind in a tumult of anticipation to the end.... No series of short stories in modern literature can approach them." -- Hartford Times.
+
+"If Mr. A. Conan Doyle had not already placed himself in the front rank of living English writers by 'The Refugees,' and other of his larger stories, he would surely do so by these fifteen short tales." -- New York Mail and Express.
+
+"A strikingly realistic and decidedly original contribution to modern literature." -- Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+BY S. R. CROCKETT.
+
+CLEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CITY. His Progress and Adventures. Uniform with "The Lilac Sunbonnet" and "Bog-Myrtle and Peat." Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+It is safe to predict for the quaint and delightful figure of Cleg Kelly a notable in the literature of the day. Mr. Crockett's signal success in his new field will enlarge the wide circle of his admirers. The lights and shadows of curious phases of Edinburgh life, and of Scotch farm and railroad life, are pictured with an intimate sympathy, richness of humor, and truthful pathos which make this new novel a genuine addition to literature. It seems safe to say that at least two characters -- Cleg and Muckle Alick -- are likely to lead Mr. Crockett's heroes in popular favor. The illustrations of this fascinating novel have been the result of most faithful and sympathetic study.
+
+BOG-MYRTLE AND PEAT. Third edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Here are idyls, epics, dramas of human life, written in words that thrill and burn.... Each is a poem that has an immortal flavor. They are fragments of the author's early dreams, too bright, too gorgeous, too full of the blood of rubies and the life of diamonds to be caught and held palpitating in expression's grasp." -- Boston Courier.
+
+"Hardly a sketch among them all that will not afford pleasure to the reader for its genial humor, artistic local coloring, and admirable portrayal of character." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"One dips into the book anywhere and reads on and on, fascinated by the writer's charm of manner." -- Minneapolis Tribune.
+
+THE LILAC SUNBONNET. Sixth edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"A love story pure and simple, one of the old-fashioned, wholesome, sunshiny kind, with a pure-minded, sound-hearted hero, and a heroine who is merely a good and beautiful woman; and if any other love story half so sweet has been written this year, it has escaped our notice." -- New York Times.
+
+"The general conception of the story, the motive of which is the growth of love between the young chief and heroine, is delineated with a sweetness and a freshness, a naturalness and a certainty, which places 'The Lilac Sunbonnet' among the best stories of the time." -- New York Mail and Express.
+
+"In its own line this little love story can hardly be excelled. It is a pastoral, an idyl -- the story of love and courtship and marriage of a fine young man and a lovely girl -- no more. But it is told in so thoroughly delightful a manner, with such playful humor, such delicate fancy, such true and sympathetic feeling, that nothing more could be desired." -- Boston Traveller.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+THE ONE WHO LOOKED ON. By F. F. MONTRÉSOR, author of "Into the Highways and Hedges." 16mo. Cloth, special binding, $1.25.
+
+"The story runs on as smoothly as a brook through lowlands; it excites your interest at the beginning and keeps it to the end." -- New York Herald.
+
+"An exquisite story.... No person sensitive to the influence of what makes for the true, the lovely, and the strong in human friendship and the real in life's work can read this book without being benefited by it." -- Buffalo Commercial.
+
+"The book has universal interest and very unusual merit.... Aside from its subtle poetic charm, the book is a noble example of the power of keen observation." -- Boston Herald.
+
+CORRUPTION. By PERCY WHITE, author of "Mr. Bailey-Martin," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"There is intrigue enough in it for those who love a story of the ordinary kind, and the political part is perhaps more attractive in its sparkle and variety of incident than the real thing itself." -- London Daily News.
+
+"A drama of biting intensity, a tragedy of inflexible purpose and relentless result." -- Pall Mall Gazette.
+
+A HARD WOMAN. A Story in Scenes. By VIOLET HUNT. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"An extremely clever work. Miss Hunt probably writes dialogue better than any of our young novelists.... Not only are her conversations wonderfully vivacious and sustained, but she contrives to assign to each of her characters a distinct mode of speech, so that the reader easily identifies them, and can follow the conversations without the slightest difficulty." -- London Athenæum.
+
+"One of the best writers of dialogue of our immediate day. The conversations in this book will enhance her already secure reputation." -- London Daily Chronicle.
+
+"A creation that does Miss Hunt infinite credit, and places her in the front rank of the younger novelists.... Brilliantly drawn, quivering with life, adroit, quiet-witted, unfalteringly insolent, and withal strangely magnetic." -- London Standard.
+
+AN IMAGINATIVE MAN. By ROBERT S. HICHENS, author of "The Green Carnation." 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"One of the brightest books of the year." -- Boston Budget.
+
+"Altogether delightful, fascinating, unusual." -- Cleveland Amusement Gazette.
+
+"A study in character.... Just as entertaining as though it were the conventional story of love and marriage. The clever hand of the author of 'The Green Carnation' is easily detected in the caustic wit and pointed epigram." -- Jeannette L. Gilder, in the New York World.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/5957/metadata.json b/benchmark/5957/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..3c72a3794cf3b68a428870d99901f6de8641af4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/5957/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "5957", "title": "Black Poodle and Other Tales", "description": "This is a collection of ten humorous short stories (Summary by Carolin)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37235", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1896", "num_sections": "20", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/5957", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/black_poodle_1112_librivox/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/the-black-poodle-and-other-tales-by-anstey-f/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "6:49:09", "totaltimesecs": 24549, "authors": [{"id": "1631", "first_name": "F.", "last_name": "Anstey", "dob": "1856", "dod": "1934"}], "genre": ["General Fiction", "Humorous Fiction", "Short Stories"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["blackpoodle_01_anstey", "blackpoodle_02_anstey", "blackpoodle_03_anstey", "blackpoodle_04_anstey", "blackpoodle_05_anstey", "blackpoodle_06_anstey", "blackpoodle_07_anstey", "blackpoodle_08_anstey", "blackpoodle_09_anstey", "blackpoodle_10_anstey", "blackpoodle_11_anstey", "blackpoodle_12_anstey", "blackpoodle_13_anstey", "blackpoodle_14_anstey", "blackpoodle_15_anstey", "blackpoodle_16_anstey", "blackpoodle_17_anstey", "blackpoodle_18_anstey", "blackpoodle_19_anstey", "blackpoodle_20_anstey"], "readers": [["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["6907"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["6907"], ["4992"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..38725d0870aec464b2b97bc6bdb6f6e01a2ff69d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"You're a traitor, and we'd like nothing better than seeing your guts spilled,", "start_byte": 3423, "end_byte": 3501, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 203.96499694824217, "cut_end_time": 208.2901219482422, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He shrugged. He'd bought a suit of airtight coveralls and a helmet at the field; he had some cash, and a set of reader cards in his pocket. The supply house, Earthside, had assured him that this pattern had never been exported to Mars. With them and the knife he'd selected, he might get by.\n\nThe Solar Security office had given him the knife practice, to make sure he could use it, just as they'd made sure he hadn't taken extra money with him beyond the regulation amount.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You're a traitor, and we'd like nothing better than seeing your guts spilled,\"<|quote_end|> the Security man had told him. \"That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If...\"\n\nIt was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If...\"", "start_byte": 3534, "end_byte": 3755, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 210.62500732421876, "cut_end_time": 226.73006982421873, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "He shrugged. He'd bought a suit of airtight coveralls and a helmet at the field; he had some cash, and a set of reader cards in his pocket. The supply house, Earthside, had assured him that this pattern had never been exported to Mars. With them and the knife he'd selected, he might get by.\n\nThe Solar Security office had given him the knife practice, to make sure he could use it, just as they'd made sure he hadn't taken extra money with him beyond the regulation amount.\n\n\"You're a traitor, and we'd like nothing better than seeing your guts spilled,\" the Security man had told him. <|quote_start|>\"That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.\n\n\"And suppose nothing happens?\" he asked.\n\n\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"And suppose nothing happens?", "start_byte": 4134, "end_byte": 4163, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 256.9449987792969, "cut_end_time": 258.5101237792969, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If...\"\n\nIt was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And suppose nothing happens?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\n\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"\n\n\"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?\"\n\nThe other had shrugged. \"Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?\"\n\nGordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.\n\nThey were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"", "start_byte": 4176, "end_byte": 4231, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 259.96500610351563, "cut_end_time": 263.09006860351565, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If...\"\n\nIt was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.\n\n\"And suppose nothing happens?\" he asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?\"\n\nThe other had shrugged. \"Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?\"\n\nGordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.\n\nThey were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?\"", "start_byte": 4233, "end_byte": 4295, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 264.3150146484375, "cut_end_time": 267.2600771484375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "It was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.\n\n\"And suppose nothing happens?\" he asked.\n\n\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe other had shrugged. \"Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?\"\n\nGordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.\n\nThey were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?\"", "start_byte": 4321, "end_byte": 4401, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 269.9250146484375, "cut_end_time": 275.4700771484375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.", "cut_start_time": 276.9150061035156, "cut_end_time": 280.98006860351563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "It was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.\n\n\"And suppose nothing happens?\" he asked.\n\n\"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive.\"\n\n\"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?\"\n\nThe other had shrugged. <|quote_start|>\"Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.\n\nThey were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.\n\nThe drummer who had watched Gordon tear up his yellow stub moved forward now. \"First time?\" he asked.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Been here dozens of times, myself. Risking your life just to go into Marsport. Why Congress doesn't clean it up, I'll never know!\"", "start_byte": 5141, "end_byte": 5272, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 331.365, "cut_end_time": 340.2700625, "narration": {"text": "He stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder.", "cut_start_time": 413.3850146484375, "cut_end_time": 420.8000146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "They were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.\n\nThe drummer who had watched Gordon tear up his yellow stub moved forward now. \"First time?\" he asked.\n\nGordon nodded, mentally cataloguing the drummer as the cockroach type, midway between the small-businessman slug and the petty-crook spider types that weren't worth bothering with. But the other took it as interest.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Been here dozens of times, myself. Risking your life just to go into Marsport. Why Congress doesn't clean it up, I'll never know!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon's mind switched to the readers in his bag. The cards were plastic, and should be good for a week or so of use before they showed wear. During that time, by playing it carefully, he should have his stake. Then, if the gaming tables here were as crudely run as an oldtimer he'd known on Earth had said, he could try a coup.\n\n\"... be at Mother Corey's soon,\" the fat little drummer babbled on. \"Notorious -- worst place on Mars. Take it from me, brother, that's something! Even the cops are afraid to go in there. See it? There, to your left!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"... be at Mother Corey's soon,", "start_byte": 5604, "end_byte": 5635, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 365.5949951171875, "cut_end_time": 367.1800576171875, "narration": {"text": "He stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder.", "cut_start_time": 413.3850146484375, "cut_end_time": 420.8000146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Been here dozens of times, myself. Risking your life just to go into Marsport. Why Congress doesn't clean it up, I'll never know!\"\n\nGordon's mind switched to the readers in his bag. The cards were plastic, and should be good for a week or so of use before they showed wear. During that time, by playing it carefully, he should have his stake. Then, if the gaming tables here were as crudely run as an oldtimer he'd known on Earth had said, he could try a coup.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"... be at Mother Corey's soon,\"<|quote_end|> the fat little drummer babbled on. \"Notorious -- worst place on Mars. Take it from me, brother, that's something! Even the cops are afraid to go in there. See it? There, to your left!\"\n\nThe name was vaguely familiar as one of the sore spots of Marsport. Bruce Gordon looked, and spotted the ragged building, half a mile outside the dome. It had been a rocket-maintenance hangar once, then had been turned into temporary dwelling for the first deportees, when Earth began flooding Mars. Now, seeming to stand by habit alone, it radiated desolation and decay.", "narrative_information_pred": {"babbled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Notorious -- worst place on Mars. Take it from me, brother, that's something! Even the cops are afraid to go in there. See it? There, to your left!\"", "start_byte": 5672, "end_byte": 5821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 369.8949877929688, "cut_end_time": 382.37011279296877, "narration": {"text": "He stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder.", "cut_start_time": 413.3850146484375, "cut_end_time": 420.8000146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Been here dozens of times, myself. Risking your life just to go into Marsport. Why Congress doesn't clean it up, I'll never know!\"\n\nGordon's mind switched to the readers in his bag. The cards were plastic, and should be good for a week or so of use before they showed wear. During that time, by playing it carefully, he should have his stake. Then, if the gaming tables here were as crudely run as an oldtimer he'd known on Earth had said, he could try a coup.\n\n\"... be at Mother Corey's soon,\" the fat little drummer babbled on. <|quote_start|>\"Notorious -- worst place on Mars. Take it from me, brother, that's something! Even the cops are afraid to go in there. See it? There, to your left!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe name was vaguely familiar as one of the sore spots of Marsport. Bruce Gordon looked, and spotted the ragged building, half a mile outside the dome. It had been a rocket-maintenance hangar once, then had been turned into temporary dwelling for the first deportees, when Earth began flooding Mars. Now, seeming to stand by habit alone, it radiated desolation and decay.\n\nHe stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder. \"Getting off!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"babbled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"It's your life, buster,", "start_byte": 6459, "end_byte": 6483, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.87499023437505, "cut_end_time": 435.060052734375, "narration": {"text": "The driver shrugged his hand away. \"Don't be crazy, mister! They -- \" He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank.", "cut_start_time": 423.7150134277344, "cut_end_time": 432.6100134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "The name was vaguely familiar as one of the sore spots of Marsport. Bruce Gordon looked, and spotted the ragged building, half a mile outside the dome. It had been a rocket-maintenance hangar once, then had been turned into temporary dwelling for the first deportees, when Earth began flooding Mars. Now, seeming to stand by habit alone, it radiated desolation and decay.\n\nHe stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder. \"Getting off!\"\n\nThe driver shrugged his hand away. \"Don't be crazy, mister! They -- \" He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank. <|quote_start|>\"It's your life, buster,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and reached for the brake. \"I'll give you five minutes to get into coveralls and helmet and out through the airlock.\"\n\nGordon needed less than that; he'd practiced all the way from Earth. The transparent plastic of the coveralls went on easily enough, and his hands found the seals quickly. He slipped his few possessions into a bag at his belt, slid the knife into a spring holster above his wrist, and picked up the bowl-shaped helmet. It seated on a plastic seal, and the little air compressor at his back began to hum, ready to turn the thin wisp of Mars' atmosphere into a barely breathable pressure. He tested the Marspeaker -- an amplifier and speaker in another pouch, designed to raise the volume of his voice to a level where it would carry through even the air of Mars.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"I'll give you five minutes to get into coveralls and helmet and out through the airlock.\"", "start_byte": 6521, "end_byte": 6611, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 437.10498779296876, "cut_end_time": 441.4001127929688, "narration": {"text": "The driver shrugged his hand away. \"Don't be crazy, mister! They -- \" He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank.", "cut_start_time": 423.7150134277344, "cut_end_time": 432.6100134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "The name was vaguely familiar as one of the sore spots of Marsport. Bruce Gordon looked, and spotted the ragged building, half a mile outside the dome. It had been a rocket-maintenance hangar once, then had been turned into temporary dwelling for the first deportees, when Earth began flooding Mars. Now, seeming to stand by habit alone, it radiated desolation and decay.\n\nHe stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder. \"Getting off!\"\n\nThe driver shrugged his hand away. \"Don't be crazy, mister! They -- \" He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank. \"It's your life, buster,\" he said, and reached for the brake. <|quote_start|>\"I'll give you five minutes to get into coveralls and helmet and out through the airlock.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon needed less than that; he'd practiced all the way from Earth. The transparent plastic of the coveralls went on easily enough, and his hands found the seals quickly. He slipped his few possessions into a bag at his belt, slid the knife into a spring holster above his wrist, and picked up the bowl-shaped helmet. It seated on a plastic seal, and the little air compressor at his back began to hum, ready to turn the thin wisp of Mars' atmosphere into a barely breathable pressure. He tested the Marspeaker -- an amplifier and speaker in another pouch, designed to raise the volume of his voice to a level where it would carry through even the air of Mars.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"You don't have to puncture my seal. You're in.\"", "start_byte": 9649, "end_byte": 9697, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 672.4749951171875, "cut_end_time": 674.8000576171876, "narration": {"text": "The driver shrugged his hand away. \"Don't be crazy, mister! They -- \" He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank.", "cut_start_time": 423.7150134277344, "cut_end_time": 432.6100134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Ahead, Mother Corey's reared up -- a huge, ugly half-cylinder of pitted metal and native bricks, showing the patchwork of decades, before repairs had been abandoned. There were no windows, though once there had been; and the front was covered with a big sign that spelled out Condemned. The airseal was filthy, and there was no bell.\n\nGordon kicked against the side, waited, and kicked again. A slit opened and closed. He waited, then drew his knife and began prying at the worn cement around the airseal, looking for the lock that had been there.\n\nThe seal suddenly quivered, indicating that metal inside had been withdrawn. Gordon grinned tautly, stepped through, and pushed the blade against the inner plastic.\n\n\"All right, all right,\" a voice whined out of the darkness. <|quote_start|>\"You don't have to puncture my seal. You're in.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Then call them off!\"\n\nA wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall. \"Okay, boys,\" the voice said, \"come on down. He's alone, anyhow. What's pushing, stranger?\"\n\n\"A yellow ticket,\" Gordon told him, \"and a government allotment that'll last me two weeks in the dome. I figure on making it last six here, and don't let my being a firster give you hot palms. My brother was Lanny Gordon!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"whined": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"come on down. He's alone, anyhow. What's pushing, stranger?\"", "start_byte": 9858, "end_byte": 9919, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 688.2550170898438, "cut_end_time": 692.8400170898437, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "The seal suddenly quivered, indicating that metal inside had been withdrawn. Gordon grinned tautly, stepped through, and pushed the blade against the inner plastic.\n\n\"All right, all right,\" a voice whined out of the darkness. \"You don't have to puncture my seal. You're in.\"\n\n\"Then call them off!\"\n\nA wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall. \"Okay, boys,\" the voice said, <|quote_start|>\"come on down. He's alone, anyhow. What's pushing, stranger?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"A yellow ticket,\" Gordon told him, \"and a government allotment that'll last me two weeks in the dome. I figure on making it last six here, and don't let my being a firster give you hot palms. My brother was Lanny Gordon!\"\n\nIt happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with \"muscle\" was useful.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"and a government allotment that'll last me two weeks in the dome. I figure on making it last six here, and don't let my being a firster give you hot palms. My brother was Lanny Gordon!\"", "start_byte": 9957, "end_byte": 10143, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 697.2450219726562, "cut_end_time": 710.7500219726563, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "The seal suddenly quivered, indicating that metal inside had been withdrawn. Gordon grinned tautly, stepped through, and pushed the blade against the inner plastic.\n\n\"All right, all right,\" a voice whined out of the darkness. \"You don't have to puncture my seal. You're in.\"\n\n\"Then call them off!\"\n\nA wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall. \"Okay, boys,\" the voice said, \"come on down. He's alone, anyhow. What's pushing, stranger?\"\n\n\"A yellow ticket,\" Gordon told him, <|quote_start|>\"and a government allotment that'll last me two weeks in the dome. I figure on making it last six here, and don't let my being a firster give you hot palms. My brother was Lanny Gordon!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with \"muscle\" was useful.\n\nIt seemed to work. A huge man oozed out of the shadows, his gray face contorting its doughy fat into a yellow-toothed grin, and a filthy hand waved back the others. There were a few wisps of long, gray hair on the head and face, and they quivered as he moved forward.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Looking for a room?", "start_byte": 10713, "end_byte": 10733, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 758.8949755859376, "cut_end_time": 759.9401005859376, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "It happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with \"muscle\" was useful.\n\nIt seemed to work. A huge man oozed out of the shadows, his gray face contorting its doughy fat into a yellow-toothed grin, and a filthy hand waved back the others. There were a few wisps of long, gray hair on the head and face, and they quivered as he moved forward.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Looking for a room?\"<|quote_end|> he whined.\n\n\"I'm looking for Mother Corey.\"\n\n\"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?\"\n\nThere was a period of haggling, followed by a wait as Mother Corey kicked four grumbling men out of a four-by-seven hole on the second floor. Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whined": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"I'm looking for Mother Corey.\"", "start_byte": 10747, "end_byte": 10778, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 762.014990234375, "cut_end_time": 763.600052734375, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "It happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with \"muscle\" was useful.\n\nIt seemed to work. A huge man oozed out of the shadows, his gray face contorting its doughy fat into a yellow-toothed grin, and a filthy hand waved back the others. There were a few wisps of long, gray hair on the head and face, and they quivered as he moved forward.\n\n\"Looking for a room?\" he whined.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'm looking for Mother Corey.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?\"\n\nThere was a period of haggling, followed by a wait as Mother Corey kicked four grumbling men out of a four-by-seven hole on the second floor. Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy. \"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?\"", "start_byte": 10780, "end_byte": 10900, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 764.88498046875, "cut_end_time": 775.74004296875, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "It happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with \"muscle\" was useful.\n\nIt seemed to work. A huge man oozed out of the shadows, his gray face contorting its doughy fat into a yellow-toothed grin, and a filthy hand waved back the others. There were a few wisps of long, gray hair on the head and face, and they quivered as he moved forward.\n\n\"Looking for a room?\" he whined.\n\n\"I'm looking for Mother Corey.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThere was a period of haggling, followed by a wait as Mother Corey kicked four grumbling men out of a four-by-seven hole on the second floor. Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy. \"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"\n\nIt was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water. Plumbing, and such luxuries, apparently hadn't existed for years -- except for the small cistern and worn water-recovery plant in the basement, beside the tired-looking weeds in the hydroponic tanks that tried unsuccessfully to keep the air breathable.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"", "start_byte": 11168, "end_byte": 11215, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 800.7849975585938, "cut_end_time": 804.5600600585938, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"I'm looking for Mother Corey.\"\n\n\"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?\"\n\nThere was a period of haggling, followed by a wait as Mother Corey kicked four grumbling men out of a four-by-seven hole on the second floor. Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy. <|quote_start|>\"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water. Plumbing, and such luxuries, apparently hadn't existed for years -- except for the small cistern and worn water-recovery plant in the basement, beside the tired-looking weeds in the hydroponic tanks that tried unsuccessfully to keep the air breathable.\n\n\"What about a lock on the door?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"humored": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"What about a lock on the door?", "start_byte": 11621, "end_byte": 11652, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 837.8450122070312, "cut_end_time": 839.2400122070313, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"\n\nIt was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water. Plumbing, and such luxuries, apparently hadn't existed for years -- except for the small cistern and worn water-recovery plant in the basement, beside the tired-looking weeds in the hydroponic tanks that tried unsuccessfully to keep the air breathable.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What about a lock on the door?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked.\n\n\"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other.\"\n\nGordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.\n\nHe pulled the cards out of his pouch, trying to be casual. Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other.\"", "start_byte": 11669, "end_byte": 11847, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 841.1549926757813, "cut_end_time": 852.9700551757812, "narration": {"text": "A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall.", "cut_start_time": 677.7949853515626, "cut_end_time": 685.1601103515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue.\"\n\nIt was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water. Plumbing, and such luxuries, apparently hadn't existed for years -- except for the small cistern and worn water-recovery plant in the basement, beside the tired-looking weeds in the hydroponic tanks that tried unsuccessfully to keep the air breathable.\n\n\"What about a lock on the door?\" Gordon asked.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.\n\nHe pulled the cards out of his pouch, trying to be casual. Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him. \"Where does a man eat around here?\"\n\nMother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Where does a man eat around here?\"", "start_byte": 12163, "end_byte": 12198, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 878.8550024414063, "cut_end_time": 880.7800649414063, "narration": {"text": "Gordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.", "cut_start_time": 854.984970703125, "cut_end_time": 862.190095703125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other.\"\n\nGordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.\n\nHe pulled the cards out of his pouch, trying to be casual. Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him. <|quote_start|>\"Where does a man eat around here?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips. \"Eh? Oh. Eat. There's a place about ten blocks back. Cobber, stop teasing me! With elections coming up, and the boys loaded with vote money back in town -- with a deck of cheaters like that -- you want to eat?\"\n\nHe picked the deck up fondly, while a faraway look came into his clouded eyes. \"Same ones -- same identical ones I wore out nigh twenty years ago. Smuggled two decks up here. Set to clean up -- and I did, for a while.\" He shook his head sadly, and handed the deck back to Gordon. \"Come on down. For the sight of these, I'll give you the lay for your pitch. And when your luck's made or broken, remember Mother Corey was your friend first, and your old Mother can get longer use from them than you can.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"trying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Eh? Oh. Eat. There's a place about ten blocks back. Cobber, stop teasing me! With elections coming up, and the boys loaded with vote money back in town -- with a deck of cheaters like that -- you want to eat?\"", "start_byte": 12282, "end_byte": 12492, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 889.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.0900405273437, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips.", "cut_start_time": 882.105009765625, "cut_end_time": 889.100009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Gordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.\n\nHe pulled the cards out of his pouch, trying to be casual. Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him. \"Where does a man eat around here?\"\n\nMother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips. <|quote_start|>\"Eh? Oh. Eat. There's a place about ten blocks back. Cobber, stop teasing me! With elections coming up, and the boys loaded with vote money back in town -- with a deck of cheaters like that -- you want to eat?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe picked the deck up fondly, while a faraway look came into his clouded eyes. \"Same ones -- same identical ones I wore out nigh twenty years ago. Smuggled two decks up here. Set to clean up -- and I did, for a while.\" He shook his head sadly, and handed the deck back to Gordon. \"Come on down. For the sight of these, I'll give you the lay for your pitch. And when your luck's made or broken, remember Mother Corey was your friend first, and your old Mother can get longer use from them than you can.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"pried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_01_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..f763ff4a3e2e762f193aa8bd7dcf890fb69712f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Mother got ahold of a load of snow, and sent me out to contact a big pusher. Coming back, the goons picked me up and gave me the job on you. Hey, Mother!\"", "start_byte": 30253, "end_byte": 30408, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 29.73500053405762, "cut_end_time": 40.96006303405762, "narration": {"text": "The gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once.", "cut_start_time": 52.9149984741211, "cut_end_time": 56.4700609741211, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"For this stinking planet, I guess you're something of a saint. Come along, and we'll both apply for that job -- after I get my stuff.\"\n\nHe might as well join the law. Security had wanted him to police their damned planet for them -- and he might as well do it officially.\n\nHe tossed the girl's knife down beside her, motioned to Izzy, and began heading for Mother Corey's.\n\nChapter III\n\nTHE GRAFT IS GREEN\n\nIzzy seemed surprised when he found that Gordon was turning in to the quasi-secret entrance to Mother Corey's. \"Coming here myself,\" he explained. <|quote_start|>\"Mother got ahold of a load of snow, and sent me out to contact a big pusher. Coming back, the goons picked me up and gave me the job on you. Hey, Mother!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon didn't ask how Mother Corey had acquired the dope. When Earth had deported all addicts two decades before, it had practically begged for dope smuggling.\n\nThe gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once. \"Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Ninety per cent for uncut,\" Izzy answered.\n\nThey went up to Gordon's hole-in-the-wall, with Mother Corey wheezing behind, while the rotten wood of the stairs groaned under his grotesque bulk. At his questions, Gordon told the story tersely.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?\"", "start_byte": 30633, "end_byte": 30697, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 57.41499877929687, "cut_end_time": 63.03012377929688, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Izzy seemed surprised when he found that Gordon was turning in to the quasi-secret entrance to Mother Corey's. \"Coming here myself,\" he explained. \"Mother got ahold of a load of snow, and sent me out to contact a big pusher. Coming back, the goons picked me up and gave me the job on you. Hey, Mother!\"\n\nBruce Gordon didn't ask how Mother Corey had acquired the dope. When Earth had deported all addicts two decades before, it had practically begged for dope smuggling.\n\nThe gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once. <|quote_start|>\"Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Ninety per cent for uncut,\" Izzy answered.\n\nThey went up to Gordon's hole-in-the-wall, with Mother Corey wheezing behind, while the rotten wood of the stairs groaned under his grotesque bulk. At his questions, Gordon told the story tersely.\n\nMother Corey nodded. \"Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"appeared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Ninety per cent for uncut,", "start_byte": 30699, "end_byte": 30726, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 63.755000610351566, "cut_end_time": 65.60000061035156, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"Mother got ahold of a load of snow, and sent me out to contact a big pusher. Coming back, the goons picked me up and gave me the job on you. Hey, Mother!\"\n\nBruce Gordon didn't ask how Mother Corey had acquired the dope. When Earth had deported all addicts two decades before, it had practically begged for dope smuggling.\n\nThe gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once. \"Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ninety per cent for uncut,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy answered.\n\nThey went up to Gordon's hole-in-the-wall, with Mother Corey wheezing behind, while the rotten wood of the stairs groaned under his grotesque bulk. At his questions, Gordon told the story tersely.\n\nMother Corey nodded. \"Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?\"", "start_byte": 30963, "end_byte": 31195, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 83.03499725341797, "cut_end_time": 101.57005975341796, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Bruce Gordon didn't ask how Mother Corey had acquired the dope. When Earth had deported all addicts two decades before, it had practically begged for dope smuggling.\n\nThe gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once. \"Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Ninety per cent for uncut,\" Izzy answered.\n\nThey went up to Gordon's hole-in-the-wall, with Mother Corey wheezing behind, while the rotten wood of the stairs groaned under his grotesque bulk. At his questions, Gordon told the story tersely.\n\nMother Corey nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon hadn't. The old wreck had demanded five per cent of his winnings for tipping him off. Mother Corey had too many cheap hoods among his friends to be fooled with. Gordon counted out the money reluctantly, while Izzy explained that they were going to be cops.\n\nThe old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon. \"Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by,\" he decided. \"Don't do it, cobber. You're the wrong kind. You take what you're doing serious. When you set out to tinhorn a living, you're a crook. Get you in a cop's outfit, and you'll turn honest. No place here for an honest cop -- not with elections coming up, cobber. Well, I guess you gotta find out for yourself. Want a good room?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by,", "start_byte": 31526, "end_byte": 31595, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 127.73500244140624, "cut_end_time": 132.54006494140626, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?\"\n\nGordon hadn't. The old wreck had demanded five per cent of his winnings for tipping him off. Mother Corey had too many cheap hoods among his friends to be fooled with. Gordon counted out the money reluctantly, while Izzy explained that they were going to be cops.\n\nThe old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon. <|quote_start|>\"Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by,\"<|quote_end|> he decided. \"Don't do it, cobber. You're the wrong kind. You take what you're doing serious. When you set out to tinhorn a living, you're a crook. Get you in a cop's outfit, and you'll turn honest. No place here for an honest cop -- not with elections coming up, cobber. Well, I guess you gotta find out for yourself. Want a good room?\"\n\nGordon's lips twitched. \"Thanks, Mother, but I'll be staying inside the dome, I guess.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"decided": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Thanks, Mother, but I'll be staying inside the dome, I guess.\"", "start_byte": 31959, "end_byte": 32022, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 160.10499267578123, "cut_end_time": 163.66011767578124, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by,\" he decided. \"Don't do it, cobber. You're the wrong kind. You take what you're doing serious. When you set out to tinhorn a living, you're a crook. Get you in a cop's outfit, and you'll turn honest. No place here for an honest cop -- not with elections coming up, cobber. Well, I guess you gotta find out for yourself. Want a good room?\"\n\nGordon's lips twitched. <|quote_start|>\"Thanks, Mother, but I'll be staying inside the dome, I guess.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"So'll I,\" the old man gloated. \"Setting in a chair all day, being an honest citizen. Cobber, I already own a joint there -- a nice one, they tell me. Lights. Two water closets. Big rooms, six-by-ten -- fifty of them, big enough for whole families. And strictly on the level, cobber. It's no hide-out, like this.\"\n\nHe rolled the money in his greasy fingers. \"Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you.", "start_byte": 32382, "end_byte": 32524, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 193.59500732421876, "cut_end_time": 202.10000732421875, "narration": {"text": "The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 121.91500061035156, "cut_end_time": 126.55006311035156, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Thanks, Mother, but I'll be staying inside the dome, I guess.\"\n\n\"So'll I,\" the old man gloated. \"Setting in a chair all day, being an honest citizen. Cobber, I already own a joint there -- a nice one, they tell me. Lights. Two water closets. Big rooms, six-by-ten -- fifty of them, big enough for whole families. And strictly on the level, cobber. It's no hide-out, like this.\"\n\nHe rolled the money in his greasy fingers. <|quote_start|>\"Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you.\"<|quote_end|> His eyes watered, and a tear went dripping down his nose. \"I'm getting old. They'll be calling me 'Grandmother' pretty soon. So I'm turning my Chicken House over to my granddaughter and I'm going honest. Want a room?\"\n\nGordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted. \"Didn't know you had a granddaughter.\"\n\nIzzy snorted, and Mother Corey grinned wolfishly. \"You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"rolled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I'm getting old. They'll be calling me 'Grandmother' pretty soon. So I'm turning my Chicken House over to my granddaughter and I'm going honest. Want a room?\"", "start_byte": 32584, "end_byte": 32743, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 206.67500549316406, "cut_end_time": 217.12000549316406, "narration": {"text": "Gordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted.", "cut_start_time": 218.0149963378906, "cut_end_time": 224.0600588378906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Setting in a chair all day, being an honest citizen. Cobber, I already own a joint there -- a nice one, they tell me. Lights. Two water closets. Big rooms, six-by-ten -- fifty of them, big enough for whole families. And strictly on the level, cobber. It's no hide-out, like this.\"\n\nHe rolled the money in his greasy fingers. \"Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you.\" His eyes watered, and a tear went dripping down his nose. <|quote_start|>\"I'm getting old. They'll be calling me 'Grandmother' pretty soon. So I'm turning my Chicken House over to my granddaughter and I'm going honest. Want a room?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted. \"Didn't know you had a granddaughter.\"\n\nIzzy snorted, and Mother Corey grinned wolfishly. \"You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"watered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Didn't know you had a granddaughter.\"", "start_byte": 32824, "end_byte": 32862, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 224.75499572753907, "cut_end_time": 226.63005822753905, "narration": {"text": "Gordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted.", "cut_start_time": 218.0149963378906, "cut_end_time": 224.0600588378906, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you.\" His eyes watered, and a tear went dripping down his nose. \"I'm getting old. They'll be calling me 'Grandmother' pretty soon. So I'm turning my Chicken House over to my granddaughter and I'm going honest. Want a room?\"\n\nGordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted. <|quote_start|>\"Didn't know you had a granddaughter.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy snorted, and Mother Corey grinned wolfishly. \"You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"Special Taxes", "start_byte": 33768, "end_byte": 33782, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 292.5849975585938, "cut_end_time": 293.88006005859376, "narration": {"text": " and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.", "cut_start_time": 293.9049963378906, "cut_end_time": 303.36012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course.\"\n\nIzzy nodded, and Gordon shrugged. On Mars, it didn't seem odd to begin applying for a police job by carrying in narcotics. He wondered how they'd go about contacting the commissioner.\n\nBut that turned out to be simple enough. After collecting, Izzy led the way into a section marked <|quote_start|>\"Special Taxes\"<|quote_end|> and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.\n\n\"Your friend has no record with us,\" he said in a routine voice. \"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.", "narrative_information_pred": {"marked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Your friend has no record with us,", "start_byte": 33910, "end_byte": 33945, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 304.3350134277344, "cut_end_time": 306.1900134277344, "narration": {"text": " and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.", "cut_start_time": 293.9049963378906, "cut_end_time": 303.36012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course.\"\n\nIzzy nodded, and Gordon shrugged. On Mars, it didn't seem odd to begin applying for a police job by carrying in narcotics. He wondered how they'd go about contacting the commissioner.\n\nBut that turned out to be simple enough. After collecting, Izzy led the way into a section marked \"Special Taxes\" and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Your friend has no record with us,\"<|quote_end|> he said in a routine voice. \"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.\n\n\"Save time, boys,\" he said genially. \"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "routine": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"", "start_byte": 33975, "end_byte": 34075, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 308.98499267578126, "cut_end_time": 314.4201176757813, "narration": {"text": " and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.", "cut_start_time": 293.9049963378906, "cut_end_time": 303.36012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Izzy nodded, and Gordon shrugged. On Mars, it didn't seem odd to begin applying for a police job by carrying in narcotics. He wondered how they'd go about contacting the commissioner.\n\nBut that turned out to be simple enough. After collecting, Izzy led the way into a section marked \"Special Taxes\" and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.\n\n\"Your friend has no record with us,\" he said in a routine voice. <|quote_start|>\"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.\n\n\"Save time, boys,\" he said genially. \"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes.\" He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. \"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "routine": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Save time, boys,", "start_byte": 34278, "end_byte": 34295, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 327.1250048828125, "cut_end_time": 328.34000488281254, "narration": {"text": " and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.", "cut_start_time": 293.9049963378906, "cut_end_time": 303.36012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.\n\n\"Your friend has no record with us,\" he said in a routine voice. \"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Save time, boys,\"<|quote_end|> he said genially. \"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes.\" He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. \"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"\n\nIt was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "genially": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes.", "start_byte": 34315, "end_byte": 34355, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 329.6750146484375, "cut_end_time": 333.99007714843754, "narration": {"text": " and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.", "cut_start_time": 293.9049963378906, "cut_end_time": 303.36012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.\n\n\"Your friend has no record with us,\" he said in a routine voice. \"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.\n\n\"Save time, boys,\" he said genially. <|quote_start|>\"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes.\"<|quote_end|> He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. \"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"\n\nIt was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.\n\nIzzy was more businesslike.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"", "start_byte": 34447, "end_byte": 34625, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 340.9950146484375, "cut_end_time": 358.74007714843754, "narration": {"text": " He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms.", "cut_start_time": 334.3350085449219, "cut_end_time": 340.2900710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nIn the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.\n\n\"Save time, boys,\" he said genially. \"And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes.\" He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. <|quote_start|>\"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.\n\nIzzy was more businesslike. \"Hope they don't give us too bad territory, gov'nor,\" he remarked. \"Pickings are always a little lean on the first few beats, but you can work some fairly well.\"\n\nGordon's chest fell; this was Mars!\n\nThe room at the new Mother Corey's -- an unkempt old building near the edge of the dome -- proved to be livable, though it was a shock to see Mother Corey himself in a decent suit, and using perfume.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Hope they don't give us too bad territory, gov'nor,", "start_byte": 34801, "end_byte": 34853, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 373.0049975585938, "cut_end_time": 375.82012255859377, "narration": {"text": " He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms.", "cut_start_time": 334.3350085449219, "cut_end_time": 340.2900710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\" He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. \"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"\n\nIt was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.\n\nIzzy was more businesslike. <|quote_start|>\"Hope they don't give us too bad territory, gov'nor,\"<|quote_end|> he remarked. \"Pickings are always a little lean on the first few beats, but you can work some fairly well.\"\n\nGordon's chest fell; this was Mars!\n\nThe room at the new Mother Corey's -- an unkempt old building near the edge of the dome -- proved to be livable, though it was a shock to see Mother Corey himself in a decent suit, and using perfume.\n\nThe beat was in a shabby section where clerks and skilled laborers worked. It wasn't poor enough to offer the universal desperation that gave the gang hoodlums protective coloring, nor rich enough to have major rackets of its own.", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Pickings are always a little lean on the first few beats, but you can work some fairly well.\"", "start_byte": 34868, "end_byte": 34962, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 376.8050146484375, "cut_end_time": 382.1400771484375, "narration": {"text": " He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms.", "cut_start_time": 334.3350085449219, "cut_end_time": 340.2900710449219, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!\"\n\nIt was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.\n\nIzzy was more businesslike. \"Hope they don't give us too bad territory, gov'nor,\" he remarked. <|quote_start|>\"Pickings are always a little lean on the first few beats, but you can work some fairly well.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon's chest fell; this was Mars!\n\nThe room at the new Mother Corey's -- an unkempt old building near the edge of the dome -- proved to be livable, though it was a shock to see Mother Corey himself in a decent suit, and using perfume.\n\nThe beat was in a shabby section where clerks and skilled laborers worked. It wasn't poor enough to offer the universal desperation that gave the gang hoodlums protective coloring, nor rich enough to have major rackets of its own.", "narrative_information_pred": {"remarked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Cripes! Hope they've got a few cheap pushers around that don't pay protection direct to the captain. You take that store; I'll go in this one!\"", "start_byte": 35454, "end_byte": 35598, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 422.19499511718755, "cut_end_time": 432.05012011718753, "narration": {"text": "She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.", "cut_start_time": 622.1349755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4901005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "The room at the new Mother Corey's -- an unkempt old building near the edge of the dome -- proved to be livable, though it was a shock to see Mother Corey himself in a decent suit, and using perfume.\n\nThe beat was in a shabby section where clerks and skilled laborers worked. It wasn't poor enough to offer the universal desperation that gave the gang hoodlums protective coloring, nor rich enough to have major rackets of its own.\n\nIzzy was disgusted. <|quote_start|>\"Cripes! Hope they've got a few cheap pushers around that don't pay protection direct to the captain. You take that store; I'll go in this one!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe proprietor was a druggist who ran his own fountain where the synthetics that replaced honest Earth foods were compounded into sweet and sticky messes for the neighborhood kids. He looked up as Gordon came in; then his face fell. \"New cop, eh? No wonder Gable collected yesterday, ahead of time. All right, you can look at my books. I've been paying fifty, but you'll have to wait until Friday.\"\n\nGordon nodded and swung on his heel, surprised to find that his stomach was turning. The man obviously couldn't afford fifty credits a week. But it was the same all along the street. Even Izzy admitted finally that they'd have to wait.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"New cop, eh? No wonder Gable collected yesterday, ahead of time. All right, you can look at my books. I've been paying fifty, but you'll have to wait until Friday.\"", "start_byte": 35833, "end_byte": 35998, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 451.86500610351567, "cut_end_time": 464.70006860351566, "narration": {"text": "She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.", "cut_start_time": 622.1349755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4901005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "The beat was in a shabby section where clerks and skilled laborers worked. It wasn't poor enough to offer the universal desperation that gave the gang hoodlums protective coloring, nor rich enough to have major rackets of its own.\n\nIzzy was disgusted. \"Cripes! Hope they've got a few cheap pushers around that don't pay protection direct to the captain. You take that store; I'll go in this one!\"\n\nThe proprietor was a druggist who ran his own fountain where the synthetics that replaced honest Earth foods were compounded into sweet and sticky messes for the neighborhood kids. He looked up as Gordon came in; then his face fell. <|quote_start|>\"New cop, eh? No wonder Gable collected yesterday, ahead of time. All right, you can look at my books. I've been paying fifty, but you'll have to wait until Friday.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon nodded and swung on his heel, surprised to find that his stomach was turning. The man obviously couldn't afford fifty credits a week. But it was the same all along the street. Even Izzy admitted finally that they'd have to wait.\n\n\"That damned cop before us! He really tapped them! And we can't take less, so I guess we gotta wait until Friday.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe next day, Bruce Gordon made his first arrest. It was near the end of his shift, just as darkness was falling and the few lights were going on. He turned a corner and came to a short, heavy hoodlum backing out of a small liquor store with a knife in throwing position. The crook grunted as he started to turn and stumbled onto Gordon. His knife flashed up.", "narrative_information_pred": {"fell": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"That damned cop before us! He really tapped them! And we can't take less, so I guess we gotta wait until Friday.\"", "start_byte": 36237, "end_byte": 36351, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 481.83501098632814, "cut_end_time": 489.75001098632816, "narration": {"text": "She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.", "cut_start_time": 622.1349755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4901005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "The proprietor was a druggist who ran his own fountain where the synthetics that replaced honest Earth foods were compounded into sweet and sticky messes for the neighborhood kids. He looked up as Gordon came in; then his face fell. \"New cop, eh? No wonder Gable collected yesterday, ahead of time. All right, you can look at my books. I've been paying fifty, but you'll have to wait until Friday.\"\n\nGordon nodded and swung on his heel, surprised to find that his stomach was turning. The man obviously couldn't afford fifty credits a week. But it was the same all along the street. Even Izzy admitted finally that they'd have to wait.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"That damned cop before us! He really tapped them! And we can't take less, so I guess we gotta wait until Friday.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe next day, Bruce Gordon made his first arrest. It was near the end of his shift, just as darkness was falling and the few lights were going on. He turned a corner and came to a short, heavy hoodlum backing out of a small liquor store with a knife in throwing position. The crook grunted as he started to turn and stumbled onto Gordon. His knife flashed up.\n\nWithout the need to worry about an airsuit, Gordon moved in, his arm jerking forward. He clipped the crook on the inside of the elbow, while grabbing the wrist with his other hand. The man went sailing over Gordon's head, to crash into the side of the building. He let out a yell.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"You'd better call the hospital,", "start_byte": 37357, "end_byte": 37389, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 563.1049877929688, "cut_end_time": 564.6201127929688, "narration": {"text": "She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.", "cut_start_time": 622.1349755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4901005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Without the need to worry about an airsuit, Gordon moved in, his arm jerking forward. He clipped the crook on the inside of the elbow, while grabbing the wrist with his other hand. The man went sailing over Gordon's head, to crash into the side of the building. He let out a yell.\n\nGordon rifled the hood's pockets, and located a roll of bills stuffed in. He dragged them out, before snapping cuffs on the man. Then he pulled the crook inside the store.\n\nA woman stood there, moaning over a pale man on the floor; blood oozed from a welt on the back of his head. There was both gratitude and resentment as she looked up at Gordon.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You'd better call the hospital,\"<|quote_end|> he told her sharply. \"He may have a concussion. I've got the man who held you up.\"\n\n\"Hospital?\" Her voice broke into another wail. \"And who can afford hospitals? All week we work, all hours. He's old, he can't handle the cases. I do that. Me! And then you come, and you get your money. And he comes for his protection. Papa is sick. Sick, do you hear? He sees a doctor, he buys medicine. Then Gable comes. This man comes. We can't pay him! So what do we get -- we get knifes in the faces, saps on the head -- a concussion, you tell me! And all the money -- the money we had to pay to get stocks to sell to pay off from the profits we don't make -- all of it, he wants! Hospitals! You think they give away at the hospitals free?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"He may have a concussion. I've got the man who held you up.\"", "start_byte": 37412, "end_byte": 37473, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 566.2949780273437, "cut_end_time": 570.0500405273438, "narration": {"text": "She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.", "cut_start_time": 622.1349755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4901005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Without the need to worry about an airsuit, Gordon moved in, his arm jerking forward. He clipped the crook on the inside of the elbow, while grabbing the wrist with his other hand. The man went sailing over Gordon's head, to crash into the side of the building. He let out a yell.\n\nGordon rifled the hood's pockets, and located a roll of bills stuffed in. He dragged them out, before snapping cuffs on the man. Then he pulled the crook inside the store.\n\nA woman stood there, moaning over a pale man on the floor; blood oozed from a welt on the back of his head. There was both gratitude and resentment as she looked up at Gordon.\n\n\"You'd better call the hospital,\" he told her sharply. <|quote_start|>\"He may have a concussion. I've got the man who held you up.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Hospital?\" Her voice broke into another wail. \"And who can afford hospitals? All week we work, all hours. He's old, he can't handle the cases. I do that. Me! And then you come, and you get your money. And he comes for his protection. Papa is sick. Sick, do you hear? He sees a doctor, he buys medicine. Then Gable comes. This man comes. We can't pay him! So what do we get -- we get knifes in the faces, saps on the head -- a concussion, you tell me! And all the money -- the money we had to pay to get stocks to sell to pay off from the profits we don't make -- all of it, he wants! Hospitals! You think they give away at the hospitals free?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I suppose it can't be helped, though; you're new, Gordon. Hennessy, get the corpse to the morgue, and mark it down as a robbery attempt. I'm going to have to book you and your men, Mr. Jurgens!\"", "start_byte": 39255, "end_byte": 39450, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 704.4350170898438, "cut_end_time": 717.7800795898438, "narration": {"text": "The desk captain at the precinct house groaned as they came in, then shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 697.0350024414063, "cut_end_time": 702.4700649414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "His hands dropped to the handcuffed man on the floor, and he caught him up with a jerk, slapping his body back against the counter. He took a step forward, jerking his hands up and putting his Earth-adapted shoulders behind it. The hood sailed up and struck the two knife-men squarely.\n\nThere was a scream as their automatic attempts to save themselves buried both knives in the body of their friend. Then they went crashing down, and Gordon was over them.\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe desk captain at the precinct house groaned as they came in, then shook his head. \"Damn it,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I suppose it can't be helped, though; you're new, Gordon. Hennessy, get the corpse to the morgue, and mark it down as a robbery attempt. I'm going to have to book you and your men, Mr. Jurgens!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe heavy leader of the two angry knife-men grinned. \"Okay, Captain. But it's going to slow down the work I'm doing on the Mayor's campaign for re-election! Damn that Maxie -- I told him to be discreet. Hey, you know what you've got, though -- a real considerate man! He gave the old guy his money back!\"\n\nThey took Bruce Gordon's testimony, and sent him home.\n\nJurgens was waiting for him when he came on the beat. From his look of having slept well, he must have been out almost as soon as he was booked. Two other men stood behind Gordon, while Jurgens explained that he didn't like being interrupted on business calls", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"about the Mayor's campaign, or anything else,", "start_byte": 40074, "end_byte": 40120, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 764.4650024414062, "cut_end_time": 767.6400024414063, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand.", "cut_start_time": 897.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 904.3200380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"Okay, Captain. But it's going to slow down the work I'm doing on the Mayor's campaign for re-election! Damn that Maxie -- I told him to be discreet. Hey, you know what you've got, though -- a real considerate man! He gave the old guy his money back!\"\n\nThey took Bruce Gordon's testimony, and sent him home.\n\nJurgens was waiting for him when he came on the beat. From his look of having slept well, he must have been out almost as soon as he was booked. Two other men stood behind Gordon, while Jurgens explained that he didn't like being interrupted on business calls <|quote_start|>\"about the Mayor's campaign, or anything else,\"<|quote_end|> and that next time there'd be real hard feelings. Gordon was surprised when he wasn't beaten, but not when the racketeer suggested that any money found at a crime was evidence and should go to the police. The captain had told him the same.\n\nBy Friday, he had learned. He made his collections early. Gable had sold him the list of what was expected, and he used it, though he cut down the figures in a few cases. There was no sense in killing the geese that laid the eggs.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat.\"", "start_byte": 41338, "end_byte": 41476, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 855.1149877929688, "cut_end_time": 862.5200502929688, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand.", "cut_start_time": 897.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 904.3200380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "The couple at the liquor store had their payment waiting, and they handed it over, looking embarrassed. It wasn't until he was gone that he found a small bottle of fairly good whiskey tucked into his pouch. He started to throw it away, and then lifted it to his lips. Maybe they'd known how he felt better than he had. Mother Corey's words about his change of attitude came back. Damn it, he had to dig up enough money to get back to Earth.\n\nHe collected, down to the last account. It was a nice haul; at that rate, he'd have to stand it only for a few months. Then Gordon's lips twisted, as he realized it wasn't all gravy. There were angles, or the price of a corporalcy would have been higher.\n\nOne of the older men answered his questions. <|quote_start|>\"Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe envelopes were lying on a table marked \"Voluntary Donations\"; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.\n\n\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,\" he said. \"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Voluntary Donations", "start_byte": 41521, "end_byte": 41541, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 865.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 867.1000600585937, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand.", "cut_start_time": 897.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 904.3200380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "He collected, down to the last account. It was a nice haul; at that rate, he'd have to stand it only for a few months. Then Gordon's lips twisted, as he realized it wasn't all gravy. There were angles, or the price of a corporalcy would have been higher.\n\nOne of the older men answered his questions. \"Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat.\"\n\nThe envelopes were lying on a table marked <|quote_start|>\"Voluntary Donations\"<|quote_end|>; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.\n\n\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,\" he said. \"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,", "start_byte": 41724, "end_byte": 41771, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 881.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 884.2600576171875, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand.", "cut_start_time": 897.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 904.3200380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "One of the older men answered his questions. \"Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat.\"\n\nThe envelopes were lying on a table marked \"Voluntary Donations\"; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"\n\nGordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand. \"Special meeting tomorrow. We gotta see about getting out a good vote. Election only three weeks away.\"\n\nGordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"", "start_byte": 41782, "end_byte": 41959, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 885.4649780273438, "cut_end_time": 897.1200405273438, "narration": {"text": "Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand.", "cut_start_time": 897.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 904.3200380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat.\"\n\nThe envelopes were lying on a table marked \"Voluntary Donations\"; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.\n\n\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand. \"Special meeting tomorrow. We gotta see about getting out a good vote. Election only three weeks away.\"\n\nGordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Special meeting tomorrow. We gotta see about getting out a good vote. Election only three weeks away.\"", "start_byte": 42071, "end_byte": 42174, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 904.984970703125, "cut_end_time": 911.730095703125, "narration": {"text": "A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1006.6550073242188, "cut_end_time": 1015.8400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.\n\n\"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man,\" he said. \"I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you.\"\n\nGordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand. <|quote_start|>\"Special meeting tomorrow. We gotta see about getting out a good vote. Election only three weeks away.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.\n\nHe went into the meeting willing to agree to anything. He applauded all the speeches about how much Mayor Wayne had done for them, and signed the pledge expressing his confidence, along with the implied duty he had to make his beat vote right. Then he stopped, as the captain stood up.", "narrative_information_pred": {"held": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"We gotta be neutral, boys,", "start_byte": 42874, "end_byte": 42901, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 962.9949755859375, "cut_end_time": 964.5301005859375, "narration": {"text": "A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1006.6550073242188, "cut_end_time": 1015.8400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Gordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.\n\nHe went into the meeting willing to agree to anything. He applauded all the speeches about how much Mayor Wayne had done for them, and signed the pledge expressing his confidence, along with the implied duty he had to make his beat vote right. Then he stopped, as the captain stood up.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"We gotta be neutral, boys,\"<|quote_end|> he boomed. \"But it don't mean we can't show how well we like the Mayor. Just remember, he got us our jobs! Now I figure we can all kick in a little to help his campaign. I'm going to start it off with five thousand credits, two thousand of them right now.\"\n\nThey fell in line, though there was no cheering. The price might have been fixed in advance. A thousand for a plain cop, fifteen hundred for a corporal, and so on, each contributing a third of it now. Gordon grimaced; he had six hundred left. This would take nearly all of it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"boomed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"But it don't mean we can't show how well we like the Mayor. Just remember, he got us our jobs! Now I figure we can all kick in a little to help his campaign. I'm going to start it off with five thousand credits, two thousand of them right now.\"", "start_byte": 42914, "end_byte": 43159, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 965.675029296875, "cut_end_time": 982.890029296875, "narration": {"text": "A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1006.6550073242188, "cut_end_time": 1015.8400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "Gordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.\n\nHe went into the meeting willing to agree to anything. He applauded all the speeches about how much Mayor Wayne had done for them, and signed the pledge expressing his confidence, along with the implied duty he had to make his beat vote right. Then he stopped, as the captain stood up.\n\n\"We gotta be neutral, boys,\" he boomed. <|quote_start|>\"But it don't mean we can't show how well we like the Mayor. Just remember, he got us our jobs! Now I figure we can all kick in a little to help his campaign. I'm going to start it off with five thousand credits, two thousand of them right now.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey fell in line, though there was no cheering. The price might have been fixed in advance. A thousand for a plain cop, fifteen hundred for a corporal, and so on, each contributing a third of it now. Gordon grimaced; he had six hundred left. This would take nearly all of it.\n\nA man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"\n\n\"Okay, Fell,\" the captain said, without a sign of disapproval.", "narrative_information_pred": {"boomed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Freitag, what about you? Fine, fine!\"", "start_byte": 43619, "end_byte": 43657, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1019.9349926757812, "cut_end_time": 1023.6200551757813, "narration": {"text": "A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1006.6550073242188, "cut_end_time": 1015.8400698242187, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "They fell in line, though there was no cheering. The price might have been fixed in advance. A thousand for a plain cop, fifteen hundred for a corporal, and so on, each contributing a third of it now. Gordon grimaced; he had six hundred left. This would take nearly all of it.\n\nA man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"\n\n\"Okay, Fell,\" the captain said, without a sign of disapproval. <|quote_start|>\"Freitag, what about you? Fine, fine!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"\n\n\"Quite all right, Gordon,\" the captain boomed. \"Harwick!\"\n\nHe finished the roll, and settled back, smiling. \"I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"Quite all right, Gordon,", "start_byte": 43754, "end_byte": 43779, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1031.98501953125, "cut_end_time": 1033.06001953125, "narration": {"text": "Gordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1024.6949414062499, "cut_end_time": 1030.81006640625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "They fell in line, though there was no cheering. The price might have been fixed in advance. A thousand for a plain cop, fifteen hundred for a corporal, and so on, each contributing a third of it now. Gordon grimaced; he had six hundred left. This would take nearly all of it.\n\nA man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"\n\n\"Okay, Fell,\" the captain said, without a sign of disapproval. \"Freitag, what about you? Fine, fine!\"\n\nGordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Quite all right, Gordon,\"<|quote_end|> the captain boomed. \"Harwick!\"\n\nHe finished the roll, and settled back, smiling. \"I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nWard Three was the hangout of a cheap gang of hoodlums, numbering some four hundred, who went in for small crimes mostly. But they had recently declared war on the cops.", "narrative_information_pred": {"boomed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!\"", "start_byte": 43862, "end_byte": 44120, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1039.2250537109373, "cut_end_time": 1057.3200537109374, "narration": {"text": "Gordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1024.6949414062499, "cut_end_time": 1030.81006640625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. \"Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- \"\n\n\"Okay, Fell,\" the captain said, without a sign of disapproval. \"Freitag, what about you? Fine, fine!\"\n\nGordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"\n\n\"Quite all right, Gordon,\" the captain boomed. \"Harwick!\"\n\nHe finished the roll, and settled back, smiling. <|quote_start|>\"I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nWard Three was the hangout of a cheap gang of hoodlums, numbering some four hundred, who went in for small crimes mostly. But they had recently declared war on the cops.\n\nAfter eight hours of overtime, Gordon reported in with every bone sore from small missiles, and his suit filthy from assorted muck. He had a beautiful shiner where a stone had clipped him.\n\nThe captain smiled. \"Rough, eh? But I hear robbery went down on your beat last night. Fine work, Gordon. We need men like you. Hate to do it, but I'm afraid you'll have to take the next shift at Main and Broad, directing traffic. The usual man is sick, and you're the only one I can trust with the job!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"Rough, eh? But I hear robbery went down on your beat last night. Fine work, Gordon. We need men like you. Hate to do it, but I'm afraid you'll have to take the next shift at Main and Broad, directing traffic. The usual man is sick, and you're the only one I can trust with the job!\"", "start_byte": 44514, "end_byte": 44797, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1084.69505859375, "cut_end_time": 1102.69012109375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon's name came, and he shook his head. \"I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- \"", "cut_start_time": 1024.6949414062499, "cut_end_time": 1030.81006640625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\"I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nWard Three was the hangout of a cheap gang of hoodlums, numbering some four hundred, who went in for small crimes mostly. But they had recently declared war on the cops.\n\nAfter eight hours of overtime, Gordon reported in with every bone sore from small missiles, and his suit filthy from assorted muck. He had a beautiful shiner where a stone had clipped him.\n\nThe captain smiled. <|quote_start|>\"Rough, eh? But I hear robbery went down on your beat last night. Fine work, Gordon. We need men like you. Hate to do it, but I'm afraid you'll have to take the next shift at Main and Broad, directing traffic. The usual man is sick, and you're the only one I can trust with the job!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon stuck it out, somehow, but it wasn't worth it. He reported back to the precinct with the five hundred in his hand, and his pen itching for the donation agreement.\n\nThe captain took it, and nodded. \"I wasn't kidding about your being a good man, Gordon. Go home and get some sleep, take the next day off. After that, we've got a new job for you!\"\n\nChapter IV\n\nCAPTAIN MURDOCH\n\nThe new assignment was to the roughest section in all Marsport -- the slum area beyond the dome, out near the rocket field. Here all the riffraff that had been unable to establish itself in better quarters had found some sort of a haven. At one time, there had been a small dome and a tiny city devoted to the rocket field. But Marsport had flourished enough to kill it off. The dome had failed from neglect, and the buildings inside had grown shabbier.", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_03_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 46}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..ea7a41c038a3a7c97540d2ed7600f1f7a37e4dfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"You're going to be busy,", "start_byte": 46874, "end_byte": 46899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 138.555, "cut_end_time": 139.78, "narration": {"text": " Murdoch announced shortly in the dilapidated building that had been hastily converted to a precinct house.", "cut_start_time": 139.65499267578124, "cut_end_time": 146.12005517578123, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Even derelicts and failures had to eat; there were stores and shops throughout the district which eked out some kind of a marginal living. They were safe from protection racketeers there -- none bothered to come so far out. And police had been taken off the beats there after it grew unsafe even for men in pairs to patrol the area.\n\nThe shopkeepers, and some of the less unfortunate people there, had protested loud enough to reach clear back to Earth. Marsport had hired a man from Earth to come in and act as chief of the section. Captain Murdoch was an unknown factor, and now was asking for more men. The pressure was enough to get them for him.\n\nGordon reported for work with a sense of the bottom falling out, mixed with a vague relief.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You're going to be busy,\"<|quote_end|> Murdoch announced shortly in the dilapidated building that had been hastily converted to a precinct house. \"Damn it, you're men, not sharks. I've got a free hand, and we're going to run this the way we would on Earth. Your job is to protect the citizens here -- and that means everyone not breaking the laws -- whether you feel like it or not. No graft. The first man making a shakedown will get the same treatment we're going to use on the Stonewall boys. You'll get double pay here, and you can live on it!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shortly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"You five will come with me. I'm going to show how we operate. The rest of you can team up any way you want tonight, pick any route that's open. Okay, men, let's go.\"", "start_byte": 47675, "end_byte": 47841, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 195.5649951171875, "cut_end_time": 207.8301201171875, "narration": {"text": "Bruce Gordon grinned slowly as he swung the stick, and Murdoch's eyes fell on him.", "cut_start_time": 208.86500732421874, "cut_end_time": 214.42006982421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"Damn it, you're men, not sharks. I've got a free hand, and we're going to run this the way we would on Earth. Your job is to protect the citizens here -- and that means everyone not breaking the laws -- whether you feel like it or not. No graft. The first man making a shakedown will get the same treatment we're going to use on the Stonewall boys. You'll get double pay here, and you can live on it!\"\n\nHe opened up a box on his desk and pulled out six heavy wooden sticks, each thirty inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. There was a shaped grip on each, with a thong of leather to hold it over the wrist.\n\nHe picked out five of the men, including Gordon <|quote_start|>\"You five will come with me. I'm going to show how we operate. The rest of you can team up any way you want tonight, pick any route that's open. Okay, men, let's go.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon grinned slowly as he swung the stick, and Murdoch's eyes fell on him. \"Earth cop!\"\n\n\"Two years,\" Gordon admitted.\n\n\"Then you should be ashamed to be in this mess. But whatever your reasons, you'll be useful. Take those two and give them some lessons, while I do the same with these.\"\n\nFor a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be a squad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. At double standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to pay for passage back to Earth in three years -- if Security let him. Otherwise, it would take thirty.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Then you should be ashamed to be in this mess. But whatever your reasons, you'll be useful. Take those two and give them some lessons, while I do the same with these.\"", "start_byte": 47971, "end_byte": 48139, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 219.89500732421874, "cut_end_time": 230.02006982421875, "narration": {"text": "He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "cut_start_time": 253.10499755859374, "cut_end_time": 261.5500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "He opened up a box on his desk and pulled out six heavy wooden sticks, each thirty inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. There was a shaped grip on each, with a thong of leather to hold it over the wrist.\n\nHe picked out five of the men, including Gordon \"You five will come with me. I'm going to show how we operate. The rest of you can team up any way you want tonight, pick any route that's open. Okay, men, let's go.\"\n\nBruce Gordon grinned slowly as he swung the stick, and Murdoch's eyes fell on him. \"Earth cop!\"\n\n\"Two years,\" Gordon admitted.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then you should be ashamed to be in this mess. But whatever your reasons, you'll be useful. Take those two and give them some lessons, while I do the same with these.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nFor a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be a squad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. At double standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to pay for passage back to Earth in three years -- if Security let him. Otherwise, it would take thirty.\n\nHe began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"A good clubbing beats hanging,", "start_byte": 48801, "end_byte": 48832, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 277.4149951171875, "cut_end_time": 279.3800576171875, "narration": {"text": "He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "cut_start_time": 253.10499755859374, "cut_end_time": 261.5500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "For a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be a squad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. At double standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to pay for passage back to Earth in three years -- if Security let him. Otherwise, it would take thirty.\n\nHe began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?\n\nThere was a crude lighting system here, put up by the citizens. At the front of each building, a dim phosphor bulb glowed; when darkness fell, they would have nothing else to see by.\n\nMurdoch bunched them together. <|quote_start|>\"A good clubbing beats hanging,\"<|quote_end|> he told them. \"But it has to be good. Go in for business, and don't stop just because the other guy quits. Give them hell!\"\n\nMoving in two groups of threes, at opposite sides of the street, they began their beat. They were covering an area of six blocks one way, and two the other.\n\nThey had traveled the six blocks and were turning down a side street when they found their first case; it was still daylight. Two of the Stonewall boys were working over a tall man in a newer airsuit. As the police swung around, one of the thugs casually ripped the airsuit open.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"But it has to be good. Go in for business, and don't stop just because the other guy quits. Give them hell!\"", "start_byte": 48848, "end_byte": 48957, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 280.7949938964844, "cut_end_time": 289.0600563964844, "narration": {"text": "He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "cut_start_time": 253.10499755859374, "cut_end_time": 261.5500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "For a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be a squad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. At double standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to pay for passage back to Earth in three years -- if Security let him. Otherwise, it would take thirty.\n\nHe began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?\n\nThere was a crude lighting system here, put up by the citizens. At the front of each building, a dim phosphor bulb glowed; when darkness fell, they would have nothing else to see by.\n\nMurdoch bunched them together. \"A good clubbing beats hanging,\" he told them. <|quote_start|>\"But it has to be good. Go in for business, and don't stop just because the other guy quits. Give them hell!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMoving in two groups of threes, at opposite sides of the street, they began their beat. They were covering an area of six blocks one way, and two the other.\n\nThey had traveled the six blocks and were turning down a side street when they found their first case; it was still daylight. Two of the Stonewall boys were working over a tall man in a newer airsuit. As the police swung around, one of the thugs casually ripped the airsuit open.\n\nA thin screech like a whistle came from Murdoch's Marspeaker, and the captain went forward, with Gordon at his heels. The hoodlums tossed the man aside easily, and let out a yell. From the buildings around, an assortment of toughs came at the double, swinging knives, picks, and bludgeons.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Knock them out and kick them down!", "start_byte": 50446, "end_byte": 50481, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 394.91499267578126, "cut_end_time": 396.7401176757813, "narration": {"text": "He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "cut_start_time": 253.10499755859374, "cut_end_time": 261.5500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "There was no chance to save the citizen, who was dying from lack of air. Gordon felt the solid pleasure of the finely turned club in his hands. It was light enough for speed, but heavy enough to break bones where it hit. A skilled man could knock a knife, or even a heavy club, out of another's hand with a single flick of the wrist. And he'd had practice.\n\nHe saw Murdoch's club dart in and take out two of the gang, one on the forward swing, one on the recover. Gordon's eyes popped at that. The man was totally unlike a Martian captain, and a knot of homesickness for Earth ran through his stomach.\n\nHe swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Knock them out and kick them down!\"<|quote_end|> Murdoch yelled. \"And don't let them get away!\"\n\nGordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.\n\nIt was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"\n\n\"We're not using wagons,\" Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"And don't let them get away!\"", "start_byte": 50499, "end_byte": 50529, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 398.03500976562503, "cut_end_time": 399.490009765625, "narration": {"text": "He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?", "cut_start_time": 253.10499755859374, "cut_end_time": 261.5500600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "There was no chance to save the citizen, who was dying from lack of air. Gordon felt the solid pleasure of the finely turned club in his hands. It was light enough for speed, but heavy enough to break bones where it hit. A skilled man could knock a knife, or even a heavy club, out of another's hand with a single flick of the wrist. And he'd had practice.\n\nHe saw Murdoch's club dart in and take out two of the gang, one on the forward swing, one on the recover. Gordon's eyes popped at that. The man was totally unlike a Martian captain, and a knot of homesickness for Earth ran through his stomach.\n\nHe swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.\n\n\"Knock them out and kick them down!\" Murdoch yelled. <|quote_start|>\"And don't let them get away!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.\n\nIt was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"\n\n\"We're not using wagons,\" Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Where are you going?\"", "start_byte": 50760, "end_byte": 50782, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 415.2849951171875, "cut_end_time": 416.3800576171875, "narration": {"text": "Murdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt.", "cut_start_time": 445.0149926757813, "cut_end_time": 453.6001176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "He swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.\n\n\"Knock them out and kick them down!\" Murdoch yelled. \"And don't let them get away!\"\n\nGordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.\n\nIt was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, <|quote_start|>\"Where are you going?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"\n\n\"We're not using wagons,\" Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"", "start_byte": 50784, "end_byte": 50821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 417.45500000000004, "cut_end_time": 419.28000000000003, "narration": {"text": "Murdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt.", "cut_start_time": 445.0149926757813, "cut_end_time": 453.6001176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "He swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.\n\n\"Knock them out and kick them down!\" Murdoch yelled. \"And don't let them get away!\"\n\nGordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.\n\nIt was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, \"Where are you going?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"We're not using wagons,\" Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"We're not using wagons,", "start_byte": 50823, "end_byte": 50847, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 420.36499633789066, "cut_end_time": 421.70012133789066, "narration": {"text": "Murdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt.", "cut_start_time": 445.0149926757813, "cut_end_time": 453.6001176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "He swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.\n\n\"Knock them out and kick them down!\" Murdoch yelled. \"And don't let them get away!\"\n\nGordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.\n\nIt was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To find a phone and call the wagon.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"We're not using wagons,\"<|quote_end|> Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt. \"Take him aside. Names.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Take him aside. Names.\"", "start_byte": 51284, "end_byte": 51308, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 455.5150036621094, "cut_end_time": 459.6700036621094, "narration": {"text": "His screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.", "cut_start_time": 476.1349975585938, "cut_end_time": 484.84012255859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"We're not using wagons,\" Murdoch told him. \"Line them up.\"\n\nWhen the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt. <|quote_start|>\"Take him aside. Names.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon found a section away from the others. \"I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember,\" he told the man.\n\nHorror shot over the other's bruised features. \"Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know.\"\n\nHis screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.\n\nMurdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. \"He squealed,\" he announced.", "narrative_information_pred": {"indicated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember,", "start_byte": 51355, "end_byte": 51414, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 464.2250134277344, "cut_end_time": 467.2200759277344, "narration": {"text": "His screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.", "cut_start_time": 476.1349975585938, "cut_end_time": 484.84012255859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "When the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt. \"Take him aside. Names.\"\n\nGordon found a section away from the others. <|quote_start|>\"I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember,\"<|quote_end|> he told the man.\n\nHorror shot over the other's bruised features. \"Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know.\"\n\nHis screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.\n\nMurdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. \"He squealed,\" he announced. \"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know.\"", "start_byte": 51481, "end_byte": 51521, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 472.42500732421877, "cut_end_time": 475.0200073242188, "narration": {"text": "His screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.", "cut_start_time": 476.1349975585938, "cut_end_time": 484.84012255859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "When the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.\n\nMurdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt. \"Take him aside. Names.\"\n\nGordon found a section away from the others. \"I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember,\" he told the man.\n\nHorror shot over the other's bruised features. <|quote_start|>\"Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.\n\nMurdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. \"He squealed,\" he announced. \"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"screams": {"id": "2", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"", "start_byte": 51770, "end_byte": 52042, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 494.9950146484375, "cut_end_time": 513.9300771484375, "narration": {"text": "He turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordon nodded.", "cut_start_time": 514.6850073242188, "cut_end_time": 520.2500073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember,\" he told the man.\n\nHorror shot over the other's bruised features. \"Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know.\"\n\nHis screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.\n\nMurdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. \"He squealed,\" he announced. <|quote_start|>\"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordon nodded. \"I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?\"\n\nMurdoch shrugged. \"Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nTrouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?\"", "start_byte": 52124, "end_byte": 52219, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 520.8949975585938, "cut_end_time": 526.8301225585938, "narration": {"text": " Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.", "cut_start_time": 553.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 561.6801176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "Murdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. \"He squealed,\" he announced. \"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"\n\nHe turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordon nodded. <|quote_start|>\"I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMurdoch shrugged. \"Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nTrouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.\n\n\"We'd better shift to another territory,\" Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that.\"", "start_byte": 52239, "end_byte": 52312, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 529.205, "cut_end_time": 533.7100625, "narration": {"text": " Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.", "cut_start_time": 553.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 561.6801176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!\"\n\nHe turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordon nodded. \"I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?\"\n\nMurdoch shrugged. <|quote_start|>\"Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nTrouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.\n\n\"We'd better shift to another territory,\" Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.\n\nTwo more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"We'd better shift to another territory,", "start_byte": 52548, "end_byte": 52588, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 551.8250024414062, "cut_end_time": 553.7800024414063, "narration": {"text": " Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.", "cut_start_time": 553.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 561.6801176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?\"\n\nMurdoch shrugged. \"Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nTrouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"We'd better shift to another territory,\"<|quote_end|> Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.\n\nTwo more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.\n\nMurdoch nodded. \"Object lesson!\"\n\nThe one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that he believed in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turned to two of the other captives.", "narrative_information_pred": {"decided": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Object lesson!\"", "start_byte": 52896, "end_byte": 52912, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 574.5750244140626, "cut_end_time": 575.8200244140626, "narration": {"text": "Two more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.", "cut_start_time": 562.6450073242188, "cut_end_time": 572.1300073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Trouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.\n\n\"We'd better shift to another territory,\" Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.\n\nTwo more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.\n\nMurdoch nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Object lesson!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that he believed in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turned to two of the other captives.\n\n\"Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs,\" he ordered. \"I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse.\"\n\nThe squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in the brawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admiration in their eyes for Murdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs,", "start_byte": 53084, "end_byte": 53135, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 587.8949926757813, "cut_end_time": 590.8200551757812, "narration": {"text": "Two more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.", "cut_start_time": 562.6450073242188, "cut_end_time": 572.1300073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\" Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.\n\nTwo more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.\n\nMurdoch nodded. \"Object lesson!\"\n\nThe one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that he believed in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turned to two of the other captives.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs,\"<|quote_end|> he ordered. \"I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse.\"\n\nThe squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in the brawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admiration in their eyes for Murdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.\n\nGordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing.", "narrative_information_pred": {"ordered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse.\"", "start_byte": 53149, "end_byte": 53246, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 592.5250268554688, "cut_end_time": 598.5100268554688, "narration": {"text": "Two more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.", "cut_start_time": 562.6450073242188, "cut_end_time": 572.1300073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\" Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.\n\nTwo more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.\n\nMurdoch nodded. \"Object lesson!\"\n\nThe one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that he believed in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turned to two of the other captives.\n\n\"Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs,\" he ordered. <|quote_start|>\"I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in the brawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admiration in their eyes for Murdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.\n\nGordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing. \"Poor devils!\"\n\nGordon jerked up in surprise. \"The gang?\"\n\n\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"ordered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Poor devils!\"", "start_byte": 53595, "end_byte": 53609, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 626.9850073242188, "cut_end_time": 628.0600698242188, "narration": {"text": "Gordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing.", "cut_start_time": 615.9849755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4101005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse.\"\n\nThe squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in the brawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admiration in their eyes for Murdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.\n\nGordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing. <|quote_start|>\"Poor devils!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon jerked up in surprise. \"The gang?\"\n\n\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I've got a yellow ticket, from Security.\"", "start_byte": 54120, "end_byte": 54162, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 669.3950048828125, "cut_end_time": 671.5400048828125, "narration": {"text": "Gordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing.", "cut_start_time": 615.9849755859375, "cut_end_time": 625.4101005859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"\n\nBruce Gordon grimaced. <|quote_start|>\"I've got a yellow ticket, from Security.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMurdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. \"So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop.\"\n\nThey rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.\n\n\"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power.\"\n\nMurdoch grinned bitterly. \"Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"grimaced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop.\"", "start_byte": 54209, "end_byte": 54262, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 676.8050024414063, "cut_end_time": 680.8200649414063, "narration": {"text": "They rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.", "cut_start_time": 682.3150024414062, "cut_end_time": 690.1400649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"\n\nBruce Gordon grimaced. \"I've got a yellow ticket, from Security.\"\n\nMurdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. <|quote_start|>\"So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.\n\n\"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power.\"\n\nMurdoch grinned bitterly. \"Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!\"\n\nIt fitted with the dire predictions of Security, and with the spying Gordon was going to do -- according to them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power.\"", "start_byte": 54381, "end_byte": 54491, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 691.5550048828126, "cut_end_time": 697.9100048828125, "narration": {"text": "They rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.", "cut_start_time": 682.3150024414062, "cut_end_time": 690.1400649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"\n\nBruce Gordon grimaced. \"I've got a yellow ticket, from Security.\"\n\nMurdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. \"So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop.\"\n\nThey rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMurdoch grinned bitterly. \"Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!\"\n\nIt fitted with the dire predictions of Security, and with the spying Gordon was going to do -- according to them.\n\nHe discussed it with Mother Corey, who agreed that Wayne would be re-elected.\n\n\"Can't lose,\" the old man said. He was getting even fatter, now that he was eating better food from the fair restaurant around the corner.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!\"", "start_byte": 54519, "end_byte": 54663, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 701.7150024414062, "cut_end_time": 715.1400024414063, "narration": {"text": "They rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.", "cut_start_time": 682.3150024414062, "cut_end_time": 690.1400649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them.\"\n\nBruce Gordon grimaced. \"I've got a yellow ticket, from Security.\"\n\nMurdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. \"So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop.\"\n\nThey rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.\n\n\"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power.\"\n\nMurdoch grinned bitterly. <|quote_start|>\"Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt fitted with the dire predictions of Security, and with the spying Gordon was going to do -- according to them.\n\nHe discussed it with Mother Corey, who agreed that Wayne would be re-elected.\n\n\"Can't lose,\" the old man said. He was getting even fatter, now that he was eating better food from the fair restaurant around the corner.\n\n\"He'll win,\" Mother Corey repeated. \"And you'll turn honest all over, now you're in uniform. Take me, cobber. I figured on laying low for a while, then opening up a few rooms for a good pusher or two, maybe a high-class duchess. Cost 'em more, but they'd be respectable. Only now I'm respectable myself, they don't look so good. But this honesty stuff, it's like dope. You start out on a little, and you have to go all the way.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"It didn't affect Honest Izzy,", "start_byte": 55429, "end_byte": 55459, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 772.0649755859375, "cut_end_time": 773.9101005859375, "narration": {"text": "After that, they began to go hunting for the members of the gang. They had the names of nearly all of them, and some pretty good ideas of their hide-outs.", "cut_start_time": 835.5749951171875, "cut_end_time": 844.5001201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"And you'll turn honest all over, now you're in uniform. Take me, cobber. I figured on laying low for a while, then opening up a few rooms for a good pusher or two, maybe a high-class duchess. Cost 'em more, but they'd be respectable. Only now I'm respectable myself, they don't look so good. But this honesty stuff, it's like dope. You start out on a little, and you have to go all the way.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It didn't affect Honest Izzy,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon pointed out.\n\n\"Nope. Because Izzy is always honest, according to how he sees it. But you got Earth ideas of the stuff, like I had once. Too bad.\" He sighed ponderously.\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe week moved on. The groups grew more experienced, and Murdoch was training a new squad every night. Gordon's own squad was equipped with shields now, and they were doing better. The number of muggings and holdups in the section was going down. They seldom saw a man after he'd been treated.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pointed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Nope. Because Izzy is always honest, according to how he sees it. But you got Earth ideas of the stuff, like I had once. Too bad.", "start_byte": 55482, "end_byte": 55612, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 776.405029296875, "cut_end_time": 788.730029296875, "narration": {"text": "After that, they began to go hunting for the members of the gang. They had the names of nearly all of them, and some pretty good ideas of their hide-outs.", "cut_start_time": 835.5749951171875, "cut_end_time": 844.5001201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"And you'll turn honest all over, now you're in uniform. Take me, cobber. I figured on laying low for a while, then opening up a few rooms for a good pusher or two, maybe a high-class duchess. Cost 'em more, but they'd be respectable. Only now I'm respectable myself, they don't look so good. But this honesty stuff, it's like dope. You start out on a little, and you have to go all the way.\"\n\n\"It didn't affect Honest Izzy,\" Gordon pointed out.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Nope. Because Izzy is always honest, according to how he sees it. But you got Earth ideas of the stuff, like I had once. Too bad.\"<|quote_end|> He sighed ponderously.\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe week moved on. The groups grew more experienced, and Murdoch was training a new squad every night. Gordon's own squad was equipped with shields now, and they were doing better. The number of muggings and holdups in the section was going down. They seldom saw a man after he'd been treated.\n\nOne of the squads was jumped by a gang of about forty, and two of the men were killed before the nearest other squad could pull a rear attack. That day the whole force worked overtime hunting for the men who had escaped; and by evening the Stonewall boys had received proof that it didn't pay to go against the police in large numbers.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "ponderously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_04_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 36}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b757a4ec296bfe00811effefba18b02c31220d52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Maybe I didn't do you a favor, gov'nor, pulling you here. I dunno. I got some pics of Trench from a guy I know. That's how I got my beat so fast in the Seventh. But Trench ain't married, and I guess I've used up the touch. Maybe I could try it, though.\"", "start_byte": 66964, "end_byte": 67218, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 98.7650015258789, "cut_end_time": 117.3900640258789, "narration": {"text": "They began in the poorer section. It wasn't the day to collect the", "cut_start_time": 153.275, "cut_end_time": 157.14, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"I've been reading your record. It stinks. Making trouble for Jurgens -- could have been charged as false arrest. No co-operation with your captain until he forced it; out in the sticks beating up helpless men. Now you come crawling back to your only friend, Isaacs. Well, I'll give it a try. But step out of line and I'll have you cleaning streets with your bare hands. All right, Corporal Gordon. Dismissed. Get to your beat.\"\n\nGordon grinned wryly at the emphasis on his title. No need to ask what had happened to Murdoch's recommendation. He joined Izzy in the locker room, summing up the situation.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Izzy looked worried, his thin face pinched in. <|quote_start|>\"Maybe I didn't do you a favor, gov'nor, pulling you here. I dunno. I got some pics of Trench from a guy I know. That's how I got my beat so fast in the Seventh. But Trench ain't married, and I guess I've used up the touch. Maybe I could try it, though.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Forget it,\" Gordon told him. \"I'll work it out somehow.\"\n\nThe beat was a gold mine. It lay through the section where Gordon had first tried his luck on Mars. There were a dozen or so gambling joints, half a dozen cheap saloons, and a fair number of places listed as rooming houses, though they made no bones about the fact that all their permanent inhabitants were female. Then the beat swung off, past a row of small businesses and genuine rooming houses, before turning back to the main section.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"I'll work it out somehow.\"", "start_byte": 67250, "end_byte": 67277, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 120.31500183105469, "cut_end_time": 121.70000183105468, "narration": {"text": "They began in the poorer section. It wasn't the day to collect the", "cut_start_time": 153.275, "cut_end_time": 157.14, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Gordon grinned wryly at the emphasis on his title. No need to ask what had happened to Murdoch's recommendation. He joined Izzy in the locker room, summing up the situation.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Izzy looked worried, his thin face pinched in. \"Maybe I didn't do you a favor, gov'nor, pulling you here. I dunno. I got some pics of Trench from a guy I know. That's how I got my beat so fast in the Seventh. But Trench ain't married, and I guess I've used up the touch. Maybe I could try it, though.\"\n\n\"Forget it,\" Gordon told him. <|quote_start|>\"I'll work it out somehow.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe beat was a gold mine. It lay through the section where Gordon had first tried his luck on Mars. There were a dozen or so gambling joints, half a dozen cheap saloons, and a fair number of places listed as rooming houses, though they made no bones about the fact that all their permanent inhabitants were female. Then the beat swung off, past a row of small businesses and genuine rooming houses, before turning back to the main section.\n\nThey began in the poorer section. It wasn't the day to collect the \"tips\" for good service, which had been an honest attempt to promote good police service before it became a racket. But they were met everywhere by sullen faces. Izzy explained it. The city had passed a new poll tax -- to pay for election booths, supposedly -- and had made the police collect it. Murdoch must have disregarded the order, but the rest of the force had been busy helping the administration.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"High man for sixty,", "start_byte": 68670, "end_byte": 68690, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 218.79499755859374, "cut_end_time": 220.14006005859375, "narration": {"text": " he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two.", "cut_start_time": 220.0149932861328, "cut_end_time": 224.4000557861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "But once they hit the main stem, things were mere routine. The gambling joints took it for granted that beat cops had to be paid, and considered it part of their operating expense. The only problem was that Fats' Place was the first one on the list. Gordon didn't expect to be too welcome there.\n\nThere was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup and dice and began shaking them.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"High man for sixty,\"<|quote_end|> he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two. \"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"\n\nGordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. \"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. \"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "automatically": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"", "start_byte": 68758, "end_byte": 68847, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 225.34499328613282, "cut_end_time": 231.17005578613282, "narration": {"text": " he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two.", "cut_start_time": 220.0149932861328, "cut_end_time": 224.4000557861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "But once they hit the main stem, things were mere routine. The gambling joints took it for granted that beat cops had to be paid, and considered it part of their operating expense. The only problem was that Fats' Place was the first one on the list. Gordon didn't expect to be too welcome there.\n\nThere was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup and dice and began shaking them.\n\n\"High man for sixty,\" he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two. <|quote_start|>\"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. \"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. \"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"\n\nGordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. \"Well, that's Mars,\" he said, and turned back to his private quarters.\n\nMostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"", "start_byte": 68907, "end_byte": 68937, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 235.67500427246094, "cut_end_time": 237.51006677246093, "narration": {"text": " The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently.", "cut_start_time": 239.3049932861328, "cut_end_time": 242.9400557861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "There was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup and dice and began shaking them.\n\n\"High man for sixty,\" he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two. \"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"\n\nGordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. <|quote_start|>\"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yeah.\" The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. \"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"\n\nGordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. \"Well, that's Mars,\" he said, and turned back to his private quarters.\n\nMostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"", "start_byte": 69011, "end_byte": 69113, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.81499572753907, "cut_end_time": 249.52012072753905, "narration": {"text": " The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently.", "cut_start_time": 239.3049932861328, "cut_end_time": 242.9400557861328, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "There was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup and dice and began shaking them.\n\n\"High man for sixty,\" he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two. \"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"\n\nGordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. \"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. <|quote_start|>\"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. \"Well, that's Mars,\" he said, and turned back to his private quarters.\n\nMostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.\n\nIzzy stopped him. \"It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going to run a straight beat, or else!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"rolling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "absently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Well, that's Mars,", "start_byte": 69165, "end_byte": 69184, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 254.52500549316406, "cut_end_time": 255.78000549316405, "narration": {"text": " and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.", "cut_start_time": 332.8650146484375, "cut_end_time": 337.22001464843754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal.\"\n\nGordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. \"Accidents will happen, Fats.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. \"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"\n\nGordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. <|quote_start|>\"Well, that's Mars,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and turned back to his private quarters.\n\nMostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.\n\nIzzy stopped him. \"It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going to run a straight beat, or else!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going to run a straight beat, or else!\"", "start_byte": 69501, "end_byte": 69659, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 279.0350012207031, "cut_end_time": 289.58000122070314, "narration": {"text": " and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.", "cut_start_time": 332.8650146484375, "cut_end_time": 337.22001464843754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy.\"\n\nGordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. \"Well, that's Mars,\" he said, and turned back to his private quarters.\n\nMostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.\n\nIzzy stopped him. <|quote_start|>\"It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going to run a straight beat, or else!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThat was followed by a call to remove a berserk spaceman from one of the so-called rooming houses. Gordon noticed that workmen were busy setting up a heavy wooden gate in front of the entrance to the place. There were a lot of such preparations going on for the forthcoming elections.\n\nThen the shift was over. But Gordon wasn't too surprised when his relief showed up two hours late; he'd half-expected some such nastiness from Trench. But he was surprised at the look on his tardy relief's face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stopped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Captain says report in person at once,", "start_byte": 70206, "end_byte": 70245, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 330.17499633789066, "cut_end_time": 332.52012133789066, "narration": {"text": " and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.", "cut_start_time": 332.8650146484375, "cut_end_time": 337.22001464843754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "That was followed by a call to remove a berserk spaceman from one of the so-called rooming houses. Gordon noticed that workmen were busy setting up a heavy wooden gate in front of the entrance to the place. There were a lot of such preparations going on for the forthcoming elections.\n\nThen the shift was over. But Gordon wasn't too surprised when his relief showed up two hours late; he'd half-expected some such nastiness from Trench. But he was surprised at the look on his tardy relief's face.\n\nThe man seemed to avoid facing him, muttered, <|quote_start|>\"Captain says report in person at once,\"<|quote_end|> and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.\n\nGordon was met there by blank faces and averted looks, but someone nodded toward Trench's office, and he went inside. Trench sat chewing on a cigar. \"Gordon, what does Security want with you?\"\n\n\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the", "narrative_information_pred": {"muttered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Gordon, what does Security want with you?\"", "start_byte": 70467, "end_byte": 70510, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 351.7149853515625, "cut_end_time": 354.02004785156254, "narration": {"text": "Report expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.", "cut_start_time": 423.20499633789063, "cut_end_time": 430.13005883789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Then the shift was over. But Gordon wasn't too surprised when his relief showed up two hours late; he'd half-expected some such nastiness from Trench. But he was surprised at the look on his tardy relief's face.\n\nThe man seemed to avoid facing him, muttered, \"Captain says report in person at once,\" and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.\n\nGordon was met there by blank faces and averted looks, but someone nodded toward Trench's office, and he went inside. Trench sat chewing on a cigar. <|quote_start|>\"Gordon, what does Security want with you?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the \"official business\" seal of Solar Security, and was addressed to Corporal Bruce Gordon, Nineteenth Police Precinct, Marsport. Trench kept his eyes on it, his face filled with suspicion and the vague fear most men had for Security.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sat": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"", "start_byte": 70512, "end_byte": 70631, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 354.7049975585938, "cut_end_time": 363.4100600585938, "narration": {"text": "Report expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.", "cut_start_time": 423.20499633789063, "cut_end_time": 430.13005883789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Then the shift was over. But Gordon wasn't too surprised when his relief showed up two hours late; he'd half-expected some such nastiness from Trench. But he was surprised at the look on his tardy relief's face.\n\nThe man seemed to avoid facing him, muttered, \"Captain says report in person at once,\" and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.\n\nGordon was met there by blank faces and averted looks, but someone nodded toward Trench's office, and he went inside. Trench sat chewing on a cigar. \"Gordon, what does Security want with you?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yeah.\" Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the \"official business\" seal of Solar Security, and was addressed to Corporal Bruce Gordon, Nineteenth Police Precinct, Marsport. Trench kept his eyes on it, his face filled with suspicion and the vague fear most men had for Security.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said again. \"Okay, probably routine. Only next time, Gordon, put the facts on your record with the Force. If you're a deportee, it should show up. That's all!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shoved": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"official business", "start_byte": 70685, "end_byte": 70703, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 368.0150085449219, "cut_end_time": 369.1800085449219, "narration": {"text": "Report expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.", "cut_start_time": 423.20499633789063, "cut_end_time": 430.13005883789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\" and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.\n\nGordon was met there by blank faces and averted looks, but someone nodded toward Trench's office, and he went inside. Trench sat chewing on a cigar. \"Gordon, what does Security want with you?\"\n\n\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the <|quote_start|>\"official business\"<|quote_end|> seal of Solar Security, and was addressed to Corporal Bruce Gordon, Nineteenth Police Precinct, Marsport. Trench kept his eyes on it, his face filled with suspicion and the vague fear most men had for Security.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said again. \"Okay, probably routine. Only next time, Gordon, put the facts on your record with the Force. If you're a deportee, it should show up. That's all!\"\n\nBruce Gordon went out, holding the envelope. The warning in Trench's voice wasn't for any omission on his record, he knew. He shoved the envelope into his belt pocket and waited until he was in his own room before opening it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bore": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Okay, probably routine. Only next time, Gordon, put the facts on your record with the Force. If you're a deportee, it should show up. That's all!\"", "start_byte": 70940, "end_byte": 71087, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 389.5549890136719, "cut_end_time": 401.4501140136719, "narration": {"text": "Report expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.", "cut_start_time": 423.20499633789063, "cut_end_time": 430.13005883789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the \"official business\" seal of Solar Security, and was addressed to Corporal Bruce Gordon, Nineteenth Police Precinct, Marsport. Trench kept his eyes on it, his face filled with suspicion and the vague fear most men had for Security.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said again. <|quote_start|>\"Okay, probably routine. Only next time, Gordon, put the facts on your record with the Force. If you're a deportee, it should show up. That's all!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon went out, holding the envelope. The warning in Trench's voice wasn't for any omission on his record, he knew. He shoved the envelope into his belt pocket and waited until he was in his own room before opening it.\n\nIt was terse, and unsigned.\n\nReport expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.\n\nHe swore, coldly and methodically, while his stomach dug knots in itself. The damned, stupid, blundering fools! That was all Trench and the police gang had to see; it was obvious that the letter had been opened. Sure, report at once. Drop a letter in the mailbox, and the next morning it would be turned over to Commissioner Arliss' office. Report or be kicked off to a planet that Security felt enough worse than Mars to use as punishment! Report and find Mars a worse place than Mercury could ever be.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Pick up the snow, too.\"", "start_byte": 75625, "end_byte": 75649, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 724.0950268554687, "cut_end_time": 725.4700893554688, "narration": {"text": "The pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 726.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 734.1300170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "But there had to be still more before night.\n\nHe was lucky; he came on a pusher working one of the better houses -- long after his collections should have been over. He knew by the man's face that no protection had been paid higher up. The pusher was well-heeled; Gordon confiscated the money.\n\nThis time, Izzy made no protest. Lifting the roll of anyone outside the enforced part of Mars' laws was apparently honest, in his eyes. He nodded, and pointed to the man's belt. <|quote_start|>\"Pick up the snow, too.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes. \"Good God, Sergeant,\" he pleaded, \"leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!\"\n\nGordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.\n\nThey cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Good God, Sergeant,", "start_byte": 75759, "end_byte": 75779, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 734.8349975585937, "cut_end_time": 736.1000600585937, "narration": {"text": "The pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 726.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 734.1300170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "He was lucky; he came on a pusher working one of the better houses -- long after his collections should have been over. He knew by the man's face that no protection had been paid higher up. The pusher was well-heeled; Gordon confiscated the money.\n\nThis time, Izzy made no protest. Lifting the roll of anyone outside the enforced part of Mars' laws was apparently honest, in his eyes. He nodded, and pointed to the man's belt. \"Pick up the snow, too.\"\n\nThe pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes. <|quote_start|>\"Good God, Sergeant,\"<|quote_end|> he pleaded, \"leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!\"\n\nGordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.\n\nThey cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. \"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"pleaded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!\"", "start_byte": 75793, "end_byte": 75889, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 737.2149780273438, "cut_end_time": 743.3701030273438, "narration": {"text": "The pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 726.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 734.1300170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "He was lucky; he came on a pusher working one of the better houses -- long after his collections should have been over. He knew by the man's face that no protection had been paid higher up. The pusher was well-heeled; Gordon confiscated the money.\n\nThis time, Izzy made no protest. Lifting the roll of anyone outside the enforced part of Mars' laws was apparently honest, in his eyes. He nodded, and pointed to the man's belt. \"Pick up the snow, too.\"\n\nThe pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes. \"Good God, Sergeant,\" he pleaded, <|quote_start|>\"leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.\n\nThey cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. \"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"\n\n\"Credits?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package.", "narrative_information_pred": {"pleaded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"", "start_byte": 76102, "end_byte": 76289, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 760.3750170898438, "cut_end_time": 772.5200170898438, "narration": {"text": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "cut_start_time": 751.3350048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "The pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes. \"Good God, Sergeant,\" he pleaded, \"leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!\"\n\nGordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.\n\nThey cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. <|quote_start|>\"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Credits?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package. \"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"\n\n\"Why not push it ourselves?\" Gordon asked in disgust.\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"\n\nTrench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"", "start_byte": 76357, "end_byte": 76484, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 779.9049975585938, "cut_end_time": 788.0100600585938, "narration": {"text": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "cut_start_time": 751.3350048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Gordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.\n\nThey cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. \"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"\n\n\"Credits?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package. <|quote_start|>\"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Why not push it ourselves?\" Gordon asked in disgust.\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"\n\nTrench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions. \"Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you", "narrative_information_pred": {"patted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"Why not push it ourselves?", "start_byte": 76486, "end_byte": 76513, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 789.2349877929688, "cut_end_time": 791.2200502929687, "narration": {"text": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "cut_start_time": 751.3350048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. \"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"\n\n\"Credits?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package. \"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Why not push it ourselves?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked in disgust.\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"\n\nTrench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions. \"Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you.\" He laughed at his stale joke, and Gordon was willing to laugh with him. The credit on the dope had paid for most of the contributions. For once, he had money to show for the week.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "disgust": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"", "start_byte": 76541, "end_byte": 76604, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 794.075009765625, "cut_end_time": 797.910072265625, "narration": {"text": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "cut_start_time": 751.3350048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in.\"\n\n\"Credits?\" Gordon asked.\n\n\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package. \"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"\n\n\"Why not push it ourselves?\" Gordon asked in disgust.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions. \"Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you.\" He laughed at his stale joke, and Gordon was willing to laugh with him. The credit on the dope had paid for most of the contributions. For once, he had money to show for the week.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you.", "start_byte": 76778, "end_byte": 76915, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 811.0950048828125, "cut_end_time": 820.7100673828126, "narration": {"text": "They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval.", "cut_start_time": 751.3350048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Sure.\" Izzy patted the little package. \"We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy.\"\n\n\"Why not push it ourselves?\" Gordon asked in disgust.\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in.\"\n\nTrench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions. <|quote_start|>\"Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you.\"<|quote_end|> He laughed at his stale joke, and Gordon was willing to laugh with him. The credit on the dope had paid for most of the contributions. For once, he had money to show for the week.\n\nThen Trench motioned Bruce Gordon forward, and dismissed Izzy with a nod of his head. \"Something to discuss, Gordon. Isaacs, we're holding a little meeting, so wait around. You're a sergeant already. But, Gordon, I'm offering you a chance. There aren't enough openings for all the good men, but.... Oh, bother the soft soap. We're still short on election funds, so there's a raffle. The two men holding winning tickets get bucked up to sergeants. A hundred credits a ticket. How many?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"You have a better chance with more tickets. A much better chance!\"", "start_byte": 77640, "end_byte": 77707, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 875.9249755859375, "cut_end_time": 879.9200380859376, "narration": {"text": " he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears.", "cut_start_time": 926.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 929.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"Something to discuss, Gordon. Isaacs, we're holding a little meeting, so wait around. You're a sergeant already. But, Gordon, I'm offering you a chance. There aren't enough openings for all the good men, but.... Oh, bother the soft soap. We're still short on election funds, so there's a raffle. The two men holding winning tickets get bucked up to sergeants. A hundred credits a ticket. How many?\"\n\nHe frowned suddenly as Gordon counted out three bills. <|quote_start|>\"You have a better chance with more tickets. A much better chance!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe hint was hardly veiled. Gordon stuck the tickets into his wallet. Mars was a fine planet for picking up easy money -- but holding it was another matter.\n\nTrench counted the money and put it away. \"Thanks, Gordon. That fills my quota. Look, you've been on overtime all week. Why not skip the meeting? Isaacs can brief you, later. Go out and get drunk, or something.\"\n\nThe comparative friendliness of the peace offering was probably the ultimate in graciousness from Trench. Idly, Gordon wondered what kind of pressures the captains were under; it must be pretty stiff, judging by the relief the man was showing at making quota.", "narrative_information_pred": {"frowned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Thanks, Gordon. That fills my quota. Look, you've been on overtime all week. Why not skip the meeting? Isaacs can brief you, later. Go out and get drunk, or something.\"", "start_byte": 77909, "end_byte": 78078, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 895.9549926757812, "cut_end_time": 908.7401176757812, "narration": {"text": " he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears.", "cut_start_time": 926.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 929.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Something to discuss, Gordon. Isaacs, we're holding a little meeting, so wait around. You're a sergeant already. But, Gordon, I'm offering you a chance. There aren't enough openings for all the good men, but.... Oh, bother the soft soap. We're still short on election funds, so there's a raffle. The two men holding winning tickets get bucked up to sergeants. A hundred credits a ticket. How many?\"\n\nHe frowned suddenly as Gordon counted out three bills. \"You have a better chance with more tickets. A much better chance!\"\n\nThe hint was hardly veiled. Gordon stuck the tickets into his wallet. Mars was a fine planet for picking up easy money -- but holding it was another matter.\n\nTrench counted the money and put it away. <|quote_start|>\"Thanks, Gordon. That fills my quota. Look, you've been on overtime all week. Why not skip the meeting? Isaacs can brief you, later. Go out and get drunk, or something.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe comparative friendliness of the peace offering was probably the ultimate in graciousness from Trench. Idly, Gordon wondered what kind of pressures the captains were under; it must be pretty stiff, judging by the relief the man was showing at making quota.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears. \"I'll go home and rest. Drinking costs too much for what I make. It's a good thing you don't have income tax here.\"\n\n\"We do,\" Trench said flatly;", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"I'll go home and rest. Drinking costs too much for what I make. It's a good thing you don't have income tax here.\"", "start_byte": 78398, "end_byte": 78513, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 930.5150170898438, "cut_end_time": 937.8900795898438, "narration": {"text": " he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears.", "cut_start_time": 926.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 929.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"Thanks, Gordon. That fills my quota. Look, you've been on overtime all week. Why not skip the meeting? Isaacs can brief you, later. Go out and get drunk, or something.\"\n\nThe comparative friendliness of the peace offering was probably the ultimate in graciousness from Trench. Idly, Gordon wondered what kind of pressures the captains were under; it must be pretty stiff, judging by the relief the man was showing at making quota.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears. <|quote_start|>\"I'll go home and rest. Drinking costs too much for what I make. It's a good thing you don't have income tax here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"We do,\" Trench said flatly; \"forty per cent. Better make out a form next week, and start paying it regularly. But you can deduct your contributions here.\"\n\nGordon got out before he learned more good news.\n\nChapter VII\n\nELECTIONEERING\n\nAs Bruce Gordon came out from the precinct house, he noticed the sounds first. Under the huge dome that enclosed the main part of the city, the heavier air pressure permitted normal travel of sound; and he'd become sensitive to the voice of the city after the relative quiet of the Nineteenth Precinct. But now the normal noise was different. There was an undertone of hushed waiting, with the sharp bursts of hammering and last-minute work standing out sharply through it. Voting booths were being finished here and there, and at one a small truck was delivering ballots. Voting by machine had never been established here. Wherever the booths were being thrown up, the nearby establishments were rushing gates and barricades in front of the buildings.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"forty per cent. Better make out a form next week, and start paying it regularly. But you can deduct your contributions here.\"", "start_byte": 78544, "end_byte": 78670, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 940.8349755859375, "cut_end_time": 949.3201005859376, "narration": {"text": " he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears.", "cut_start_time": 926.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 929.6600698242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "The comparative friendliness of the peace offering was probably the ultimate in graciousness from Trench. Idly, Gordon wondered what kind of pressures the captains were under; it must be pretty stiff, judging by the relief the man was showing at making quota.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears. \"I'll go home and rest. Drinking costs too much for what I make. It's a good thing you don't have income tax here.\"\n\n\"We do,\" Trench said flatly; <|quote_start|>\"forty per cent. Better make out a form next week, and start paying it regularly. But you can deduct your contributions here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon got out before he learned more good news.\n\nChapter VII\n\nELECTIONEERING\n\nAs Bruce Gordon came out from the precinct house, he noticed the sounds first. Under the huge dome that enclosed the main part of the city, the heavier air pressure permitted normal travel of sound; and he'd become sensitive to the voice of the city after the relative quiet of the Nineteenth Precinct. But now the normal noise was different. There was an undertone of hushed waiting, with the sharp bursts of hammering and last-minute work standing out sharply through it. Voting booths were being finished here and there, and at one a small truck was delivering ballots. Voting by machine had never been established here. Wherever the booths were being thrown up, the nearby establishments were rushing gates and barricades in front of the buildings.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "flatly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_06_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 36}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..1b33143b862e02aefef7793d5e3f9a2135f58511
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"You seem to have friends here,", "start_byte": 86051, "end_byte": 86082, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 548.1850268554688, "cut_end_time": 549.7000268554688, "narration": {"text": "No explosion came. It had been a crude job, with only a wick for a fuse.", "cut_start_time": 406.06499755859375, "cut_end_time": 411.9000600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "The iron-gray hair caught his eyes first. Then, as the solidly built figure turned, he grunted. It was Captain Murdoch -- now dressed in the uniform of a regular beat cop, without even a corporal's stripes. And the face was filled with lines of strain that hadn't been there before.\n\nMurdoch threw the second gangster up into a truck after the first one and slammed the door shut, locking it with the metal bar which had apparently been his weapon. Then he grinned wryly, and came back toward Gordon.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You seem to have friends here,\"<|quote_end|> he commented. \"A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe.\"\n\nGordon blinked, accepting the other's hand. \"How so? And what happened?\" He indicated the bare sleeve.\n\n\"One's the result of the other,\" Murdoch told him. \"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe.\"", "start_byte": 86098, "end_byte": 86286, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 550.9850146484375, "cut_end_time": 562.9300771484375, "narration": {"text": "No explosion came. It had been a crude job, with only a wick for a fuse.", "cut_start_time": 406.06499755859375, "cut_end_time": 411.9000600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "The iron-gray hair caught his eyes first. Then, as the solidly built figure turned, he grunted. It was Captain Murdoch -- now dressed in the uniform of a regular beat cop, without even a corporal's stripes. And the face was filled with lines of strain that hadn't been there before.\n\nMurdoch threw the second gangster up into a truck after the first one and slammed the door shut, locking it with the metal bar which had apparently been his weapon. Then he grinned wryly, and came back toward Gordon.\n\n\"You seem to have friends here,\" he commented. <|quote_start|>\"A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon blinked, accepting the other's hand. \"How so? And what happened?\" He indicated the bare sleeve.\n\n\"One's the result of the other,\" Murdoch told him. \"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"How so? And what happened?", "start_byte": 86332, "end_byte": 86359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 567.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 569.4200576171875, "narration": {"text": "No explosion came. It had been a crude job, with only a wick for a fuse.", "cut_start_time": 406.06499755859375, "cut_end_time": 411.9000600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Murdoch threw the second gangster up into a truck after the first one and slammed the door shut, locking it with the metal bar which had apparently been his weapon. Then he grinned wryly, and came back toward Gordon.\n\n\"You seem to have friends here,\" he commented. \"A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe.\"\n\nGordon blinked, accepting the other's hand. <|quote_start|>\"How so? And what happened?\"<|quote_end|> He indicated the bare sleeve.\n\n\"One's the result of the other,\" Murdoch told him. \"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"accepting": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"One's the result of the other,", "start_byte": 86392, "end_byte": 86423, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 573.1049877929688, "cut_end_time": 574.5001127929688, "narration": {"text": "No explosion came. It had been a crude job, with only a wick for a fuse.", "cut_start_time": 406.06499755859375, "cut_end_time": 411.9000600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Murdoch threw the second gangster up into a truck after the first one and slammed the door shut, locking it with the metal bar which had apparently been his weapon. Then he grinned wryly, and came back toward Gordon.\n\n\"You seem to have friends here,\" he commented. \"A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe.\"\n\nGordon blinked, accepting the other's hand. \"How so? And what happened?\" He indicated the bare sleeve.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"One's the result of the other,\"<|quote_end|> Murdoch told him. \"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"", "start_byte": 86958, "end_byte": 87096, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 612.7249853515625, "cut_end_time": 621.3900478515625, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"\n\nMurdoch had tried to treat it lightly, but Gordon saw the red creeping up into the man's face. <|quote_start|>\"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"\n\n\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"\n\nHe started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. \"This is the first time I've had to look you up,\" he said. \"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"", "start_byte": 87098, "end_byte": 87149, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 622.1850000000001, "cut_end_time": 625.85, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"\n\nMurdoch had tried to treat it lightly, but Gordon saw the red creeping up into the man's face. \"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"\n\nHe started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. \"This is the first time I've had to look you up,\" he said. \"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"", "start_byte": 87151, "end_byte": 87223, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 626.8649877929688, "cut_end_time": 631.2600502929688, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it.\"\n\nMurdoch had tried to treat it lightly, but Gordon saw the red creeping up into the man's face. \"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"\n\n\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. \"This is the first time I've had to look you up,\" he said. \"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"This is the first time I've had to look you up,", "start_byte": 87370, "end_byte": 87418, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 644.9450024414062, "cut_end_time": 647.2200024414062, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "Murdoch had tried to treat it lightly, but Gordon saw the red creeping up into the man's face. \"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"\n\n\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"\n\n\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"\n\nHe started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. <|quote_start|>\"This is the first time I've had to look you up,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.\n\nThey came to the gray three-story building that Mother Corey now owned. Gordon stopped, realizing for the first time that there was no trace of efforts to protect it against the coming night and day. The entrance was unprotected. Then his eyes caught the bright chalk marks around it -- notices to the gangs to keep hands off. Mother Corey evidently had pull enough to get every mob in the neighborhood to affix its seal.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"", "start_byte": 87429, "end_byte": 87693, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 648.3050268554688, "cut_end_time": 665.3200893554688, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me.\"\n\n\"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?\"\n\n\"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything.\"\n\nHe started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. \"This is the first time I've had to look you up,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yeah.\" Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.\n\nThey came to the gray three-story building that Mother Corey now owned. Gordon stopped, realizing for the first time that there was no trace of efforts to protect it against the coming night and day. The entrance was unprotected. Then his eyes caught the bright chalk marks around it -- notices to the gangs to keep hands off. Mother Corey evidently had pull enough to get every mob in the neighborhood to affix its seal.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"It's your room, cobber,", "start_byte": 88750, "end_byte": 88774, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 738.5750244140626, "cut_end_time": 739.7800244140625, "narration": {"text": " Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.", "cut_start_time": 667.535029296875, "cut_end_time": 676.9500292968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "They came to the gray three-story building that Mother Corey now owned. Gordon stopped, realizing for the first time that there was no trace of efforts to protect it against the coming night and day. The entrance was unprotected. Then his eyes caught the bright chalk marks around it -- notices to the gangs to keep hands off. Mother Corey evidently had pull enough to get every mob in the neighborhood to affix its seal.\n\nAs he drew near, though, two men edged across the street from a clump watching the beginning excitement. Then, as they identified Gordon, they moved back again. Some of the Mother's old lodgers from the ruin outside the dome were inside now -- obviously posted where it would do the most good.\n\nCorey stuck his head out of the door at the back of the hall as Gordon entered, and started to retire again -- until he spotted Murdoch. Gordon explained the situation hastily.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It's your room, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> the old man wheezed. He waddled back, to come out with a towel and key, which he handed to Murdoch. \"Number forty-two.\"\n\nHis heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs. \"Thanks, Gordon. I'm turning in right now.\"\n\nMother Corey shook his head, shaking the few hairs on his head and face, and the wrinkles in his doughy skin deepened.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "hastily": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Number forty-two.\"", "start_byte": 88876, "end_byte": 88895, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 747.0949829101563, "cut_end_time": 748.4300454101563, "narration": {"text": "His heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs.", "cut_start_time": 748.8749975585938, "cut_end_time": 758.0901225585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "As he drew near, though, two men edged across the street from a clump watching the beginning excitement. Then, as they identified Gordon, they moved back again. Some of the Mother's old lodgers from the ruin outside the dome were inside now -- obviously posted where it would do the most good.\n\nCorey stuck his head out of the door at the back of the hall as Gordon entered, and started to retire again -- until he spotted Murdoch. Gordon explained the situation hastily.\n\n\"It's your room, cobber,\" the old man wheezed. He waddled back, to come out with a towel and key, which he handed to Murdoch. <|quote_start|>\"Number forty-two.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs. \"Thanks, Gordon. I'm turning in right now.\"\n\nMother Corey shook his head, shaking the few hairs on his head and face, and the wrinkles in his doughy skin deepened. \"Hasn't changed, that one. Must be thirty years, but I'd know Asa Murdoch anywhere. Took me to the spaceport, handed me my yellow ticket, and sent me off for Mars. A nice, clean kid -- just like my own boy was. But Murdoch wasn't like the rest of the neighborhood. He still called me 'sir,' when my boy was walking across the street, so the lad wouldn't know they were sending me away. Oh well, that was a long time ago, cobber. A long time.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"handed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Thanks, Gordon. I'm turning in right now.\"", "start_byte": 89036, "end_byte": 89079, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 758.7050244140626, "cut_end_time": 761.5800244140626, "narration": {"text": "His heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs.", "cut_start_time": 748.8749975585938, "cut_end_time": 758.0901225585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Corey stuck his head out of the door at the back of the hall as Gordon entered, and started to retire again -- until he spotted Murdoch. Gordon explained the situation hastily.\n\n\"It's your room, cobber,\" the old man wheezed. He waddled back, to come out with a towel and key, which he handed to Murdoch. \"Number forty-two.\"\n\nHis heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs. <|quote_start|>\"Thanks, Gordon. I'm turning in right now.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMother Corey shook his head, shaking the few hairs on his head and face, and the wrinkles in his doughy skin deepened. \"Hasn't changed, that one. Must be thirty years, but I'd know Asa Murdoch anywhere. Took me to the spaceport, handed me my yellow ticket, and sent me off for Mars. A nice, clean kid -- just like my own boy was. But Murdoch wasn't like the rest of the neighborhood. He still called me 'sir,' when my boy was walking across the street, so the lad wouldn't know they were sending me away. Oh well, that was a long time ago, cobber. A long time.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"started": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"I'm from the Ajax Householders Protection Group,", "start_byte": 90320, "end_byte": 90369, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 848.9750244140625, "cut_end_time": 851.5900244140626, "narration": {"text": " the dark man announced officially. \"We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- \"", "cut_start_time": 851.8949707031251, "cut_end_time": 861.330033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Something banged heavily against the entrance seal, and there was the sound of a hot argument, followed by a commotion of some sort. Corey seemed to prick up his ears, and began to waddle rapidly toward the entrance.\n\nIt broke open before he could reach it, the seal snapping back to show a giant of a man outside holding the two guards from across the street, while a scar-faced, dark man shoved through briskly. Corey snapped out a quick word, and the two guards ceased struggling and started back across the street. The giant pushed in after the smaller thug.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'm from the Ajax Householders Protection Group,\"<|quote_end|> the dark man announced officially. \"We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- \"\n\n\"Not long on Mars, are you?\" Mother Corey asked. The whine was entirely missing from his voice now, though his face seemed as expressionless as ever. \"What does your boss Jurgens figure on doing, punk? Taking over all the rackets for the whole city?\"\n\nThe dark face snarled, while the giant moved a step forward. Then he shrugged. \"Okay, Fatty. So Jurgens is behind it. So now you know. And I'm doubling your assessment, right now. To you, it's -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "officially": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Not long on Mars, are you?", "start_byte": 90531, "end_byte": 90558, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 862.3349829101563, "cut_end_time": 863.9000454101563, "narration": {"text": " the dark man announced officially. \"We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- \"", "cut_start_time": 851.8949707031251, "cut_end_time": 861.330033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "It broke open before he could reach it, the seal snapping back to show a giant of a man outside holding the two guards from across the street, while a scar-faced, dark man shoved through briskly. Corey snapped out a quick word, and the two guards ceased struggling and started back across the street. The giant pushed in after the smaller thug.\n\n\"I'm from the Ajax Householders Protection Group,\" the dark man announced officially. \"We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Not long on Mars, are you?\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey asked. The whine was entirely missing from his voice now, though his face seemed as expressionless as ever. \"What does your boss Jurgens figure on doing, punk? Taking over all the rackets for the whole city?\"\n\nThe dark face snarled, while the giant moved a step forward. Then he shrugged. \"Okay, Fatty. So Jurgens is behind it. So now you know. And I'm doubling your assessment, right now. To you, it's -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"What does your boss Jurgens figure on doing, punk? Taking over all the rackets for the whole city?\"", "start_byte": 90681, "end_byte": 90781, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 871.9049755859376, "cut_end_time": 877.6400380859375, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "It broke open before he could reach it, the seal snapping back to show a giant of a man outside holding the two guards from across the street, while a scar-faced, dark man shoved through briskly. Corey snapped out a quick word, and the two guards ceased struggling and started back across the street. The giant pushed in after the smaller thug.\n\n\"I'm from the Ajax Householders Protection Group,\" the dark man announced officially. \"We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- \"\n\n\"Not long on Mars, are you?\" Mother Corey asked. The whine was entirely missing from his voice now, though his face seemed as expressionless as ever. <|quote_start|>\"What does your boss Jurgens figure on doing, punk? Taking over all the rackets for the whole city?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe dark face snarled, while the giant moved a step forward. Then he shrugged. \"Okay, Fatty. So Jurgens is behind it. So now you know. And I'm doubling your assessment, right now. To you, it's -- \"\n\nA heavy hand fell on the man's shoulder, and Mother Corey leaned forward slightly. Even in Mars' gravity, his bulk made the other buckle at the knees. The hand that had been reaching for the knife yanked the weapon out and brought it up sharply.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"To me, it's nothing,", "start_byte": 92259, "end_byte": 92280, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 978.5749731445313, "cut_end_time": 979.7000356445312, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "The giant opened his mouth, and took half a step forward; but the only sound he made was a choking gobble. Mother Corey moved without seeming haste, but before the other could make up his mind. There was a series of motions that seemed to have no pattern. The giant was spun around, somehow; one arm was jerked back behind him, then the other was forced up to it. Mother Corey held the wrists in one hand, put his other under the giant's crotch, and lifted. Carrying the big figure off the floor, the old man moved toward the seal. His foot found the button, snapping the entrance open. He pitched the giant out overhanded; holding the entrance, he reached for the dark man with one hand and tossed him on top of the giant.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"To me, it's nothing,\"<|quote_end|> he called out. \"Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house.\"\n\nThe entrance snapped shut then, and Corey turned back to Gordon, wiping the wisps of hair from his face. He was still wheezing asthmatically, but there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of his breathing. \"As I was going to say, cobber,\" he said, \"we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "out": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house.\"", "start_byte": 92297, "end_byte": 92390, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 981.015009765625, "cut_end_time": 986.530009765625, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "The giant opened his mouth, and took half a step forward; but the only sound he made was a choking gobble. Mother Corey moved without seeming haste, but before the other could make up his mind. There was a series of motions that seemed to have no pattern. The giant was spun around, somehow; one arm was jerked back behind him, then the other was forced up to it. Mother Corey held the wrists in one hand, put his other under the giant's crotch, and lifted. Carrying the big figure off the floor, the old man moved toward the seal. His foot found the button, snapping the entrance open. He pitched the giant out overhanded; holding the entrance, he reached for the dark man with one hand and tossed him on top of the giant.\n\n\"To me, it's nothing,\" he called out. <|quote_start|>\"Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe entrance snapped shut then, and Corey turned back to Gordon, wiping the wisps of hair from his face. He was still wheezing asthmatically, but there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of his breathing. \"As I was going to say, cobber,\" he said, \"we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth.\"\n\nGordon started to protest that he was tired and needed his sleep; then he shrugged. Corey's house was one of the few that had kept some relation to Earth styles by installing a couple of windows in the second story, and it would give a perfect view of the street. He followed the old man up the stairs.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"As I was going to say, cobber,", "start_byte": 92599, "end_byte": 92630, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1001.2249877929688, "cut_end_time": 1002.8200502929687, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "The giant opened his mouth, and took half a step forward; but the only sound he made was a choking gobble. Mother Corey moved without seeming haste, but before the other could make up his mind. There was a series of motions that seemed to have no pattern. The giant was spun around, somehow; one arm was jerked back behind him, then the other was forced up to it. Mother Corey held the wrists in one hand, put his other under the giant's crotch, and lifted. Carrying the big figure off the floor, the old man moved toward the seal. His foot found the button, snapping the entrance open. He pitched the giant out overhanded; holding the entrance, he reached for the dark man with one hand and tossed him on top of the giant.\n\n\"To me, it's nothing,\" he called out. \"Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house.\"\n\nThe entrance snapped shut then, and Corey turned back to Gordon, wiping the wisps of hair from his face. He was still wheezing asthmatically, but there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of his breathing. <|quote_start|>\"As I was going to say, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> he said, \"we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth.\"\n\nGordon started to protest that he was tired and needed his sleep; then he shrugged. Corey's house was one of the few that had kept some relation to Earth styles by installing a couple of windows in the second story, and it would give a perfect view of the street. He followed the old man up the stairs.\n\n* * * * *", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth.\"", "start_byte": 92641, "end_byte": 92761, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1003.494990234375, "cut_end_time": 1011.150115234375, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "The giant opened his mouth, and took half a step forward; but the only sound he made was a choking gobble. Mother Corey moved without seeming haste, but before the other could make up his mind. There was a series of motions that seemed to have no pattern. The giant was spun around, somehow; one arm was jerked back behind him, then the other was forced up to it. Mother Corey held the wrists in one hand, put his other under the giant's crotch, and lifted. Carrying the big figure off the floor, the old man moved toward the seal. His foot found the button, snapping the entrance open. He pitched the giant out overhanded; holding the entrance, he reached for the dark man with one hand and tossed him on top of the giant.\n\n\"To me, it's nothing,\" he called out. \"Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house.\"\n\nThe entrance snapped shut then, and Corey turned back to Gordon, wiping the wisps of hair from his face. He was still wheezing asthmatically, but there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of his breathing. \"As I was going to say, cobber,\" he said, <|quote_start|>\"we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon started to protest that he was tired and needed his sleep; then he shrugged. Corey's house was one of the few that had kept some relation to Earth styles by installing a couple of windows in the second story, and it would give a perfect view of the street. He followed the old man up the stairs.\n\n* * * * *\n\nTwo other men were already in the surprisingly well-furnished room, at the little table set up near the window. Bruce Gordon recognized one as Randolph, the publisher of the little opposition paper. The man's pale blondness, weak eyes, and generally rabbity expression totally belied the courage that had permitted him to keep going at his hopeless task of trying to clean up Marsport. The Crusader was strictly a one-man weekly, against Mayor Wayne's Chronicle, with its Earth-comics and daily circulation of over a hundred thousand. Wayne apparently let the paper stay in business to give himself a talking point about fair play; but Randolph walked with a limp from the last working over he had received.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"This is Ed Praeger. He's an engineer on our railroad.\"", "start_byte": 93988, "end_byte": 94043, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1102.1249658203124, "cut_end_time": 1106.2700908203124, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Two other men were already in the surprisingly well-furnished room, at the little table set up near the window. Bruce Gordon recognized one as Randolph, the publisher of the little opposition paper. The man's pale blondness, weak eyes, and generally rabbity expression totally belied the courage that had permitted him to keep going at his hopeless task of trying to clean up Marsport. The Crusader was strictly a one-man weekly, against Mayor Wayne's Chronicle, with its Earth-comics and daily circulation of over a hundred thousand. Wayne apparently let the paper stay in business to give himself a talking point about fair play; but Randolph walked with a limp from the last working over he had received.\n\n\"Hi, Gordon,\" he said. His thin, high voice was cool and reserved, in keeping with the opinion he had expressed publicly of the police as a body. But he did not protest Corey's selection of a partner. <|quote_start|>\"This is Ed Praeger. He's an engineer on our railroad.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon acknowledged the introduction automatically. He'd almost forgotten that Marsport was the center of a thinly populated area, stretching for a thousand miles in all directions beyond the city, connected by the winding link of the electric monorail. \"So there really is a surrounding countryside,\" he said.\n\nPraeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. \"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"So there really is a surrounding countryside,", "start_byte": 94299, "end_byte": 94345, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1126.6550390625, "cut_end_time": 1129.2200390624998, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Hi, Gordon,\" he said. His thin, high voice was cool and reserved, in keeping with the opinion he had expressed publicly of the police as a body. But he did not protest Corey's selection of a partner. \"This is Ed Praeger. He's an engineer on our railroad.\"\n\nGordon acknowledged the introduction automatically. He'd almost forgotten that Marsport was the center of a thinly populated area, stretching for a thousand miles in all directions beyond the city, connected by the winding link of the electric monorail. <|quote_start|>\"So there really is a surrounding countryside,\"<|quote_end|> he said.\n\nPraeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. \"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"\n\n\"There are plenty like that here, too,\" Randolph said. He picked up the cards. \"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"", "start_byte": 94459, "end_byte": 94666, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1139.3250439453125, "cut_end_time": 1153.6900439453125, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"Hi, Gordon,\" he said. His thin, high voice was cool and reserved, in keeping with the opinion he had expressed publicly of the police as a body. But he did not protest Corey's selection of a partner. \"This is Ed Praeger. He's an engineer on our railroad.\"\n\nGordon acknowledged the introduction automatically. He'd almost forgotten that Marsport was the center of a thinly populated area, stretching for a thousand miles in all directions beyond the city, connected by the winding link of the electric monorail. \"So there really is a surrounding countryside,\" he said.\n\nPraeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. <|quote_start|>\"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"There are plenty like that here, too,\" Randolph said. He picked up the cards. \"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon. \"I got a surprise for you, cobber,\" he said, and there was only amusement in his voice. \"I got me in fifty gallons of water today, and tomorrow I do just that. Made up my mind there was going to be a cleanup in Marsport, even if Wayne does win. And stop examining the cards, Bruce. I don't cheat my friends. The readers are put away for old-times' sake.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"There are plenty like that here, too,", "start_byte": 94668, "end_byte": 94706, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1154.7349462890625, "cut_end_time": 1156.7000087890624, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "Gordon acknowledged the introduction automatically. He'd almost forgotten that Marsport was the center of a thinly populated area, stretching for a thousand miles in all directions beyond the city, connected by the winding link of the electric monorail. \"So there really is a surrounding countryside,\" he said.\n\nPraeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. \"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There are plenty like that here, too,\"<|quote_end|> Randolph said. He picked up the cards. \"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon. \"I got a surprise for you, cobber,\" he said, and there was only amusement in his voice. \"I got me in fifty gallons of water today, and tomorrow I do just that. Made up my mind there was going to be a cleanup in Marsport, even if Wayne does win. And stop examining the cards, Bruce. I don't cheat my friends. The readers are put away for old-times' sake.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"", "start_byte": 94747, "end_byte": 94837, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1160.005048828125, "cut_end_time": 1167.5001113281248, "narration": {"text": "Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly.", "cut_start_time": 1130.5049462890624, "cut_end_time": 1138.6100712890625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"So there really is a surrounding countryside,\" he said.\n\nPraeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. \"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"\n\n\"There are plenty like that here, too,\" Randolph said. He picked up the cards. <|quote_start|>\"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon. \"I got a surprise for you, cobber,\" he said, and there was only amusement in his voice. \"I got me in fifty gallons of water today, and tomorrow I do just that. Made up my mind there was going to be a cleanup in Marsport, even if Wayne does win. And stop examining the cards, Bruce. I don't cheat my friends. The readers are put away for old-times' sake.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"I got a surprise for you, cobber,", "start_byte": 94934, "end_byte": 94968, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1174.5549609374998, "cut_end_time": 1176.4900859375, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 1168.2150439453123, "cut_end_time": 1173.5200439453124, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day.\"\n\n\"There are plenty like that here, too,\" Randolph said. He picked up the cards. \"First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon. <|quote_start|>\"I got a surprise for you, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and there was only amusement in his voice. \"I got me in fifty gallons of water today, and tomorrow I do just that. Made up my mind there was going to be a cleanup in Marsport, even if Wayne does win. And stop examining the cards, Bruce. I don't cheat my friends. The readers are put away for old-times' sake.\"\n\nRandolph shrugged, and went on as if he hadn't interrupted himself. \"Ninety per cent of Marsport is decent. They have to be. It takes at least nine honest men to support a crook. They come up here to start over -- maybe spent half their life saving up for the trip. They hear a man can make fifty credits a day in the factories, or strike it rich crop prospecting. What they don't realize is that things cost ten times as much here, too. They plan, maybe, on getting rich and going back to Earth....\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Nobody goes back,", "start_byte": 95792, "end_byte": 95810, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1238.2849755859374, "cut_end_time": 1239.4701005859374, "narration": {"text": " Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.", "cut_start_time": 1309.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1316.3900527343749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"Ninety per cent of Marsport is decent. They have to be. It takes at least nine honest men to support a crook. They come up here to start over -- maybe spent half their life saving up for the trip. They hear a man can make fifty credits a day in the factories, or strike it rich crop prospecting. What they don't realize is that things cost ten times as much here, too. They plan, maybe, on getting rich and going back to Earth....\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Nobody goes back,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey wheezed. \"I know.\" His eyes rested on Gordon.\n\n\"A lot don't want to,\" Praeger said. \"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"\n\nThe others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wheezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"A lot don't want to,", "start_byte": 95872, "end_byte": 95893, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1246.5649902343748, "cut_end_time": 1247.820115234375, "narration": {"text": " Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.", "cut_start_time": 1309.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1316.3900527343749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"Ninety per cent of Marsport is decent. They have to be. It takes at least nine honest men to support a crook. They come up here to start over -- maybe spent half their life saving up for the trip. They hear a man can make fifty credits a day in the factories, or strike it rich crop prospecting. What they don't realize is that things cost ten times as much here, too. They plan, maybe, on getting rich and going back to Earth....\"\n\n\"Nobody goes back,\" Mother Corey wheezed. \"I know.\" His eyes rested on Gordon.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"A lot don't want to,\"<|quote_end|> Praeger said. \"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"\n\nThe others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"", "start_byte": 95909, "end_byte": 96150, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1249.1449658203123, "cut_end_time": 1266.0000283203124, "narration": {"text": " Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.", "cut_start_time": 1309.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1316.3900527343749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"Ninety per cent of Marsport is decent. They have to be. It takes at least nine honest men to support a crook. They come up here to start over -- maybe spent half their life saving up for the trip. They hear a man can make fifty credits a day in the factories, or strike it rich crop prospecting. What they don't realize is that things cost ten times as much here, too. They plan, maybe, on getting rich and going back to Earth....\"\n\n\"Nobody goes back,\" Mother Corey wheezed. \"I know.\" His eyes rested on Gordon.\n\n\"A lot don't want to,\" Praeger said. <|quote_start|>\"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.\n\n\"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet,\" Randolph agreed. \"Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet,", "start_byte": 96506, "end_byte": 96551, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1291.3750488281248, "cut_end_time": 1293.4600488281249, "narration": {"text": " Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.", "cut_start_time": 1309.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1316.3900527343749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"\n\nThe others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet,\"<|quote_end|> Randolph agreed. \"Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will.\"\n\n\"Security!\" Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.\n\nRandolph frowned over his cards. \"Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will.\"", "start_byte": 96570, "end_byte": 96734, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1295.3449951171874, "cut_end_time": 1307.1300576171875, "narration": {"text": " Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.", "cut_start_time": 1309.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1316.3900527343749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet.\"\n\nThe others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.\n\n\"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet,\" Randolph agreed. <|quote_start|>\"Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Security!\" Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.\n\nRandolph frowned over his cards. \"Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?\"", "start_byte": 96893, "end_byte": 97201, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1319.8349755859374, "cut_end_time": 1337.9401005859374, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shrugged. It was the first reference he'd heard to his background, and he preferred to let it drop.", "cut_start_time": 1339.4750341796873, "cut_end_time": 1346.7800966796874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "The others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.\n\n\"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet,\" Randolph agreed. \"Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will.\"\n\n\"Security!\" Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.\n\nRandolph frowned over his cards. <|quote_start|>\"Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon shrugged. It was the first reference he'd heard to his background, and he preferred to let it drop.\n\nBut Mother Corey cut in, his voice older and hoarser, and the skin on his jowls even grayer than usual. \"Don't sell them short, cobber. I did -- once.... You forget them, here, after a while. But they're around....\"\n\nBruce Gordon felt something run down his armpit, and a chill creep up his back....", "narrative_information_pred": {"frowned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Don't sell them short, cobber. I did -- once.... You forget them, here, after a while. But they're around....\"", "start_byte": 97415, "end_byte": 97526, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1356.4649658203125, "cut_end_time": 1365.6000908203125, "narration": {"text": "But Mother Corey cut in, his voice older and hoarser, and the skin on his jowls even grayer than usual.", "cut_start_time": 1347.775029296875, "cut_end_time": 1355.1600292968749, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\"Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?\"\n\nGordon shrugged. It was the first reference he'd heard to his background, and he preferred to let it drop.\n\nBut Mother Corey cut in, his voice older and hoarser, and the skin on his jowls even grayer than usual. <|quote_start|>\"Don't sell them short, cobber. I did -- once.... You forget them, here, after a while. But they're around....\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon felt something run down his armpit, and a chill creep up his back....\n\nOut on the street, a sudden whooping began, and he glanced down. The parade was on, the Croopsters in full swing, already mostly drunk. The main body went down the street, waving fluorescent signs, while side-guards preceded them, armed with axes, knocking aside the flimsier barricades as they went. He watched a group break into a small grocery store to come out with bundles. They dragged out the storekeeper, his wife, and young daughter, and pressed them into the middle of the parade.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"If Security's so damned powerful, why doesn't it stop that?", "start_byte": 98104, "end_byte": 98164, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1409.4749511718749, "cut_end_time": 1413.1600136718748, "narration": {"text": "He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle.", "cut_start_time": 1503.5149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1510.5900283203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "Out on the street, a sudden whooping began, and he glanced down. The parade was on, the Croopsters in full swing, already mostly drunk. The main body went down the street, waving fluorescent signs, while side-guards preceded them, armed with axes, knocking aside the flimsier barricades as they went. He watched a group break into a small grocery store to come out with bundles. They dragged out the storekeeper, his wife, and young daughter, and pressed them into the middle of the parade.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"If Security's so damned powerful, why doesn't it stop that?\"<|quote_end|> he asked bitterly.\n\nRandolph grinned at him. \"They might do it, Gordon. They just might. But are you sure you want it stopped?\"\n\n\"All right,\" Mother Corey said suddenly. \"This is a social game, cobbers.\"\n\nOutside, the parade picked up enthusiasm as smaller gangs joined behind the main one. There were a fair number of plain citizens who had been impressed into it, too, judging by the appearance of little frightened groups in the middle of the mobsters.\n\nGordon couldn't understand why the police hadn't at least been kept on duty, until Honest Izzy came into the room. The little man found a chair and bought chips silently; he looked tired.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"They might do it, Gordon. They just might. But are you sure you want it stopped?\"", "start_byte": 98211, "end_byte": 98293, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1417.0849658203124, "cut_end_time": 1422.2800908203124, "narration": {"text": "He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle.", "cut_start_time": 1503.5149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1510.5900283203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Out on the street, a sudden whooping began, and he glanced down. The parade was on, the Croopsters in full swing, already mostly drunk. The main body went down the street, waving fluorescent signs, while side-guards preceded them, armed with axes, knocking aside the flimsier barricades as they went. He watched a group break into a small grocery store to come out with bundles. They dragged out the storekeeper, his wife, and young daughter, and pressed them into the middle of the parade.\n\n\"If Security's so damned powerful, why doesn't it stop that?\" he asked bitterly.\n\nRandolph grinned at him. <|quote_start|>\"They might do it, Gordon. They just might. But are you sure you want it stopped?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"All right,\" Mother Corey said suddenly. \"This is a social game, cobbers.\"\n\nOutside, the parade picked up enthusiasm as smaller gangs joined behind the main one. There were a fair number of plain citizens who had been impressed into it, too, judging by the appearance of little frightened groups in the middle of the mobsters.\n\nGordon couldn't understand why the police hadn't at least been kept on duty, until Honest Izzy came into the room. The little man found a chair and bought chips silently; he looked tired.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"This is a social game, cobbers.\"", "start_byte": 98336, "end_byte": 98369, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1426.0150097656249, "cut_end_time": 1428.010009765625, "narration": {"text": "He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle.", "cut_start_time": 1503.5149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1510.5900283203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Out on the street, a sudden whooping began, and he glanced down. The parade was on, the Croopsters in full swing, already mostly drunk. The main body went down the street, waving fluorescent signs, while side-guards preceded them, armed with axes, knocking aside the flimsier barricades as they went. He watched a group break into a small grocery store to come out with bundles. They dragged out the storekeeper, his wife, and young daughter, and pressed them into the middle of the parade.\n\n\"If Security's so damned powerful, why doesn't it stop that?\" he asked bitterly.\n\nRandolph grinned at him. \"They might do it, Gordon. They just might. But are you sure you want it stopped?\"\n\n\"All right,\" Mother Corey said suddenly. <|quote_start|>\"This is a social game, cobbers.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nOutside, the parade picked up enthusiasm as smaller gangs joined behind the main one. There were a fair number of plain citizens who had been impressed into it, too, judging by the appearance of little frightened groups in the middle of the mobsters.\n\nGordon couldn't understand why the police hadn't at least been kept on duty, until Honest Izzy came into the room. The little man found a chair and bought chips silently; he looked tired.\n\n\"Vacation?\" Mother Corey asked.\n\nIzzy nodded.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"Trench took forever giving it to us, Mother. But it's the same old deal; all the police gees get tomorrow off -- you, too, gov'nor. No cops to influence the vote, that's the word. We even gotta wear civvies when we go out to vote for Wayne.\"", "start_byte": 98858, "end_byte": 99100, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1464.0649707031248, "cut_end_time": 1480.6600332031248, "narration": {"text": "He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle.", "cut_start_time": 1503.5149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1510.5900283203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "Outside, the parade picked up enthusiasm as smaller gangs joined behind the main one. There were a fair number of plain citizens who had been impressed into it, too, judging by the appearance of little frightened groups in the middle of the mobsters.\n\nGordon couldn't understand why the police hadn't at least been kept on duty, until Honest Izzy came into the room. The little man found a chair and bought chips silently; he looked tired.\n\n\"Vacation?\" Mother Corey asked.\n\nIzzy nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Trench took forever giving it to us, Mother. But it's the same old deal; all the police gees get tomorrow off -- you, too, gov'nor. No cops to influence the vote, that's the word. We even gotta wear civvies when we go out to vote for Wayne.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon looked down at the rioters, who were now only keeping up a pretense of a parade. It would be worse tomorrow, he supposed; and there would be no cops. The image of the old woman and her husband in the little liquor store where he'd had his first experience came back to him. He wondered how well barricaded they were.\n\nHe felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle. \"Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\"Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?\"", "start_byte": 99536, "end_byte": 99615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1511.4449609375, "cut_end_time": 1515.8900234374998, "narration": {"text": "He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle.", "cut_start_time": 1503.5149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1510.5900283203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "Gordon looked down at the rioters, who were now only keeping up a pretense of a parade. It would be worse tomorrow, he supposed; and there would be no cops. The image of the old woman and her husband in the little liquor store where he'd had his first experience came back to him. He wondered how well barricaded they were.\n\nHe felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle. <|quote_start|>\"Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe shoved up from the table abruptly and headed for his room, swearing to himself.\n\nChapter VIII\n\nVOTE EARLY AND OFTEN\n\nIzzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.\n\n\"I picked up some special permits,\" he said. \"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"heard": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_07_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 48}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a62a5a68a09c1f417174731c45dc2349e5eea69c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"I picked up some special permits,", "start_byte": 100016, "end_byte": 100050, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 33.12500030517578, "cut_end_time": 35.10000030517578, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?\"\n\nHe shoved up from the table abruptly and headed for his room, swearing to himself.\n\nChapter VIII\n\nVOTE EARLY AND OFTEN\n\nIzzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I picked up some special permits,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"\n\nMurdoch shook his head. \"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"\n\nIzzy grinned. \"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"", "start_byte": 100061, "end_byte": 100246, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 36.27500015258789, "cut_end_time": 49.69006265258789, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?\"\n\nHe shoved up from the table abruptly and headed for his room, swearing to himself.\n\nChapter VIII\n\nVOTE EARLY AND OFTEN\n\nIzzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.\n\n\"I picked up some special permits,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMurdoch shook his head. \"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"\n\nIzzy grinned. \"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"\n\n\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"", "start_byte": 100272, "end_byte": 100313, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 51.88500030517578, "cut_end_time": 53.940062805175785, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Izzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.\n\n\"I picked up some special permits,\" he said. \"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"\n\nMurdoch shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy grinned. \"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"\n\n\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"\n\nDownstairs, the rear room was locked, with one of Mother Corey's guards at the door. From inside came the rare sound of water splashing, mixed with a wheezing, off-key caterwauling. Mother Corey was apparently making good on his promise to take a bath. As they reached the hall, one of Trench's lieutenants came through the entrance, waving his badge at the protesting man outside.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"", "start_byte": 100329, "end_byte": 100558, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 56.165, "cut_end_time": 71.61, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Izzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.\n\n\"I picked up some special permits,\" he said. \"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"\n\nMurdoch shook his head. \"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"\n\nIzzy grinned. <|quote_start|>\"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"\n\nDownstairs, the rear room was locked, with one of Mother Corey's guards at the door. From inside came the rare sound of water splashing, mixed with a wheezing, off-key caterwauling. Mother Corey was apparently making good on his promise to take a bath. As they reached the hall, one of Trench's lieutenants came through the entrance, waving his badge at the protesting man outside.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"", "start_byte": 100560, "end_byte": 100691, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 72.6149996948242, "cut_end_time": 80.60006219482422, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote.\"\n\nMurdoch shook his head. \"In the first place, I'm not registered.\"\n\nIzzy grinned. \"Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nDownstairs, the rear room was locked, with one of Mother Corey's guards at the door. From inside came the rare sound of water splashing, mixed with a wheezing, off-key caterwauling. Mother Corey was apparently making good on his promise to take a bath. As they reached the hall, one of Trench's lieutenants came through the entrance, waving his badge at the protesting man outside.\n\nHe spotted the three, and jerked his thumb. \"Come on, you. We're late. And I ain't staying on the streets when it gets going.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Come on, you. We're late. And I ain't staying on the streets when it gets going.\"", "start_byte": 101120, "end_byte": 101202, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 110.40500091552734, "cut_end_time": 114.97000091552734, "narration": {"text": "Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped.", "cut_start_time": 137.0750048828125, "cut_end_time": 141.9400673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan.\"\n\nDownstairs, the rear room was locked, with one of Mother Corey's guards at the door. From inside came the rare sound of water splashing, mixed with a wheezing, off-key caterwauling. Mother Corey was apparently making good on his promise to take a bath. As they reached the hall, one of Trench's lieutenants came through the entrance, waving his badge at the protesting man outside.\n\nHe spotted the three, and jerked his thumb. <|quote_start|>\"Come on, you. We're late. And I ain't staying on the streets when it gets going.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA small police car was waiting outside, and they headed for it. Bruce Gordon looked at the debacle left behind the drunken, looting mob. Most of the barricades were down. Here and there, a few citizens were rushing about trying to restore them, keeping wary eyes on the mobsters who had passed out on the streets.\n\nSuddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped. \"Come on, you gees. I gotta be back in half an hour.\"\n\nThey piled inside, and the little electric car took off at its top speed. But now the quietness had been broken. There were trucks coming out of the plastics plant, and mobsters were gathering up their drunks, and chasing the citizens back into their houses. Some of them were wearing the forbidden guns, but it wouldn't matter on a day when no police were on duty.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spotted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "jerked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Come on, you gees. I gotta be back in half an hour.\"", "start_byte": 101592, "end_byte": 101645, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.3250018310547, "cut_end_time": 145.78000183105468, "narration": {"text": "The three got off. A scooter pulled up alongside them almost at once, with a gun-carrying mobster riding it.", "cut_start_time": 187.4950030517578, "cut_end_time": 194.18006555175782, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Come on, you. We're late. And I ain't staying on the streets when it gets going.\"\n\nA small police car was waiting outside, and they headed for it. Bruce Gordon looked at the debacle left behind the drunken, looting mob. Most of the barricades were down. Here and there, a few citizens were rushing about trying to restore them, keeping wary eyes on the mobsters who had passed out on the streets.\n\nSuddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped. <|quote_start|>\"Come on, you gees. I gotta be back in half an hour.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey piled inside, and the little electric car took off at its top speed. But now the quietness had been broken. There were trucks coming out of the plastics plant, and mobsters were gathering up their drunks, and chasing the citizens back into their houses. Some of them were wearing the forbidden guns, but it wouldn't matter on a day when no police were on duty.\n\nIn the Ninth Precinct, the Planters were the biggest gang, and all the others were temporarily enrolled under them. Here, there were less signs of trouble. The joints had been better barricaded, and the looting had been kept to a minimum.", "narrative_information_pred": {"jumped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"You mugs get the hell out of -- Oh, cops! Okay, better pin these on.\"", "start_byte": 102363, "end_byte": 102433, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 195.32500671386717, "cut_end_time": 201.15000671386719, "narration": {"text": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off.", "cut_start_time": 246.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 254.4200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "They piled inside, and the little electric car took off at its top speed. But now the quietness had been broken. There were trucks coming out of the plastics plant, and mobsters were gathering up their drunks, and chasing the citizens back into their houses. Some of them were wearing the forbidden guns, but it wouldn't matter on a day when no police were on duty.\n\nIn the Ninth Precinct, the Planters were the biggest gang, and all the others were temporarily enrolled under them. Here, there were less signs of trouble. The joints had been better barricaded, and the looting had been kept to a minimum.\n\nThe three got off. A scooter pulled up alongside them almost at once, with a gun-carrying mobster riding it. <|quote_start|>\"You mugs get the hell out of -- Oh, cops! Okay, better pin these on.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe handed out gaudy arm bands, and the three fastened them in place. Nearly everyone else already had them showing. The Planters were moving efficiently. They were grouped around the booths, and they had begun to line up their men, putting them in position to begin voting at once.\n\nThen the siren hooted again, a long, steady blast. The bunting in front of the booths was pulled off, and the lines began to move. Izzy led the way to the one at the rich end of their beat, and moved toward the head of the line. \"Cops,\" he said to the six mobsters who surrounded the booth.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"We got territory to cover.\"", "start_byte": 103009, "end_byte": 103037, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.70499572753906, "cut_end_time": 245.37012072753905, "narration": {"text": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off.", "cut_start_time": 246.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 254.4200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "He handed out gaudy arm bands, and the three fastened them in place. Nearly everyone else already had them showing. The Planters were moving efficiently. They were grouped around the booths, and they had begun to line up their men, putting them in position to begin voting at once.\n\nThen the siren hooted again, a long, steady blast. The bunting in front of the booths was pulled off, and the lines began to move. Izzy led the way to the one at the rich end of their beat, and moved toward the head of the line. \"Cops,\" he said to the six mobsters who surrounded the booth. <|quote_start|>\"We got territory to cover.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off. \"Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct.\"\n\nThere were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct.\"", "start_byte": 103162, "end_byte": 103225, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 254.9250012207031, "cut_end_time": 258.46000122070313, "narration": {"text": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off.", "cut_start_time": 246.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 254.4200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Then the siren hooted again, a long, steady blast. The bunting in front of the booths was pulled off, and the lines began to move. Izzy led the way to the one at the rich end of their beat, and moved toward the head of the line. \"Cops,\" he said to the six mobsters who surrounded the booth. \"We got territory to cover.\"\n\nA thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off. <|quote_start|>\"Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThere were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.\n\n\"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle.\"\n\n\"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler,\" the Wayne man said decisively. \"He votes.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle.\"", "start_byte": 103512, "end_byte": 103570, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 281.7249987792969, "cut_end_time": 285.6300612792969, "narration": {"text": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off.", "cut_start_time": 246.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 254.4200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off. \"Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct.\"\n\nThere were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler,\" the Wayne man said decisively. \"He votes.\"\n\nOne of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. \"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"\n\nThe next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler,", "start_byte": 103572, "end_byte": 103637, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 286.8849987792969, "cut_end_time": 290.7601237792969, "narration": {"text": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off.", "cut_start_time": 246.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 254.4200673828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off. \"Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct.\"\n\nThere were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.\n\n\"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler,\"<|quote_end|> the Wayne man said decisively. \"He votes.\"\n\nOne of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. \"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"\n\nThe next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "decisively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"", "start_byte": 103789, "end_byte": 103849, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 302.4750073242188, "cut_end_time": 307.3400073242188, "narration": {"text": "The next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it.", "cut_start_time": 308.50499633789065, "cut_end_time": 318.14012133789066, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "There were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.\n\n\"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle.\"\n\n\"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler,\" the Wayne man said decisively. \"He votes.\"\n\nOne of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable. \"Owen Murtagh.\"\n\n\"Murtang.... No registration!\" The Wayne checker shrugged. \"Next!\"\n\n\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Owen Murtagh.\"", "start_byte": 104080, "end_byte": 104095, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 323.2450036621094, "cut_end_time": 324.2800661621094, "narration": {"text": "\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"", "cut_start_time": 331.2249963378907, "cut_end_time": 339.42012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "One of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. \"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"\n\nThe next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable. <|quote_start|>\"Owen Murtagh.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Murtang.... No registration!\" The Wayne checker shrugged. \"Next!\"\n\n\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"\n\n\"Protest!\" The Wayne man cut off the frantic wriggling of the Nolan checker's finger toward the line in the book. \"When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious.\"\n\nThe supposedly neutral checker nodded. \"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "broke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Murtang.... No registration!", "start_byte": 104097, "end_byte": 104126, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 325.02500488281254, "cut_end_time": 327.39000488281255, "narration": {"text": "\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"", "cut_start_time": 331.2249963378907, "cut_end_time": 339.42012133789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "One of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. \"Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes.\"\n\nThe next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable. \"Owen Murtagh.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Murtang.... No registration!\"<|quote_end|> The Wayne checker shrugged. \"Next!\"\n\n\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"\n\n\"Protest!\" The Wayne man cut off the frantic wriggling of the Nolan checker's finger toward the line in the book. \"When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious.\"\n\nThe supposedly neutral checker nodded. \"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious.\"", "start_byte": 104344, "end_byte": 104417, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 346.8949975585938, "cut_end_time": 350.4200600585938, "narration": {"text": "The Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.", "cut_start_time": 361.04500244140627, "cut_end_time": 370.81000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "The next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. \"Murtagh,\" he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable. \"Owen Murtagh.\"\n\n\"Murtang.... No registration!\" The Wayne checker shrugged. \"Next!\"\n\n\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"\n\n\"Protest!\" The Wayne man cut off the frantic wriggling of the Nolan checker's finger toward the line in the book. <|quote_start|>\"When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe supposedly neutral checker nodded. \"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"\n\nThe Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.\n\nBruce Gordon came next, showing his badge. He was passed with a nod, and headed for the little closed-off polling place. But the Wayne man touched his arm and indicated a ballot. There were two piles, and this pile was already filled out for Wayne.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"", "start_byte": 104458, "end_byte": 104544, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 354.3650036621094, "cut_end_time": 359.68006616210937, "narration": {"text": "The Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.", "cut_start_time": 361.04500244140627, "cut_end_time": 370.81000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"Owen Murtagh.\"\n\n\"Murtang.... No registration!\" The Wayne checker shrugged. \"Next!\"\n\n\"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- \"\n\n\"Protest!\" The Wayne man cut off the frantic wriggling of the Nolan checker's finger toward the line in the book. \"When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious.\"\n\nThe supposedly neutral checker nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.\n\nBruce Gordon came next, showing his badge. He was passed with a nod, and headed for the little closed-off polling place. But the Wayne man touched his arm and indicated a ballot. There were two piles, and this pile was already filled out for Wayne. \"Saves trouble, unless you want to do it yourself,\" he suggested.\n\nGordon shrugged, and shoved it into the slot. He went outside and waited for Izzy to follow. It was raw beyond anything he'd expected -- but at least it saved any doubt about the votes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Saves trouble, unless you want to do it yourself,", "start_byte": 104928, "end_byte": 104978, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 389.1449914550781, "cut_end_time": 391.6201164550782, "narration": {"text": "The Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.", "cut_start_time": 361.04500244140627, "cut_end_time": 370.81000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?\"\n\nThe Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.\n\nBruce Gordon came next, showing his badge. He was passed with a nod, and headed for the little closed-off polling place. But the Wayne man touched his arm and indicated a ballot. There were two piles, and this pile was already filled out for Wayne. <|quote_start|>\"Saves trouble, unless you want to do it yourself,\"<|quote_end|> he suggested.\n\nGordon shrugged, and shoved it into the slot. He went outside and waited for Izzy to follow. It was raw beyond anything he'd expected -- but at least it saved any doubt about the votes.\n\nThe procedure was the same at the next booth, though they had more trouble. The Nolan man there was a fool -- neither green nor agreeable. He protested vigorously, in spite of a suspicious bruise along his temple, and finally made some of the protests stick.\n\nGordon began to wonder how it could be anything but a clear unanimous vote, at that rate. Izzy shook his head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"suggested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Wayne'll win, but not that easy. The sticks don't have strong mobs, and they'll pile up a heavy Nolan vote. And you'll see things hum soon!\"", "start_byte": 105553, "end_byte": 105694, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 432.31499023437505, "cut_end_time": 442.36011523437503, "narration": {"text": "In a minute, the citizens' group was inside, ripping the fixed ballots to shreds, filling out and dropping their own. They ignored the registration clerks.", "cut_start_time": 504.7649938964844, "cut_end_time": 514.6300563964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Gordon shrugged, and shoved it into the slot. He went outside and waited for Izzy to follow. It was raw beyond anything he'd expected -- but at least it saved any doubt about the votes.\n\nThe procedure was the same at the next booth, though they had more trouble. The Nolan man there was a fool -- neither green nor agreeable. He protested vigorously, in spite of a suspicious bruise along his temple, and finally made some of the protests stick.\n\nGordon began to wonder how it could be anything but a clear unanimous vote, at that rate. Izzy shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"Wayne'll win, but not that easy. The sticks don't have strong mobs, and they'll pile up a heavy Nolan vote. And you'll see things hum soon!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon had voted three times under the \"honor system,\" before he saw. They were just nearing a polling place when a heavy truck came careening around a corner. Men began piling out of the back before it stopped -- men armed with clubs and stones. They were in the middle of the Planters at once, striking without science, but with ferocity. The line waiting to vote broke up, but the citizens had apparently organized with care. A good number of the men in the line were with the attackers.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air.\"", "start_byte": 107108, "end_byte": 107153, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 544.974970703125, "cut_end_time": 547.680033203125, "narration": {"text": "Even where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore.", "cut_start_time": 537.8649755859375, "cut_end_time": 544.4200380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "In a minute, the citizens' group was inside, ripping the fixed ballots to shreds, filling out and dropping their own. They ignored the registration clerks.\n\nA whistle had been shrilling for minutes. Now another group came onto the scene, and the Planters' men began getting out rapidly. Some of the citizens looked up and yelled, but it was too late. From the approaching cars, pipes projected forward. Streams of liquid jetted out, and their agonized cries followed.\n\nEven where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore. <|quote_start|>\"Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBut the trick worked. In no time, men in crude masks were clearing out the booth, driving the last struggling citizens away, and getting ready for business as usual.\n\nMurdoch turned on his heel. \"I've had enough. I've made up my mind,\" he said. \"The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?\"\n\nIzzy frowned, but supplied the information. Bruce Gordon pulled Murdoch aside. \"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"swore": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I've had enough. I've made up my mind,", "start_byte": 107350, "end_byte": 107389, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 562.5449853515626, "cut_end_time": 565.1801103515626, "narration": {"text": "Even where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore.", "cut_start_time": 537.8649755859375, "cut_end_time": 544.4200380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "A whistle had been shrilling for minutes. Now another group came onto the scene, and the Planters' men began getting out rapidly. Some of the citizens looked up and yelled, but it was too late. From the approaching cars, pipes projected forward. Streams of liquid jetted out, and their agonized cries followed.\n\nEven where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore. \"Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air.\"\n\nBut the trick worked. In no time, men in crude masks were clearing out the booth, driving the last struggling citizens away, and getting ready for business as usual.\n\nMurdoch turned on his heel. <|quote_start|>\"I've had enough. I've made up my mind,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?\"\n\nIzzy frowned, but supplied the information. Bruce Gordon pulled Murdoch aside. \"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"\n\n\"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?\"", "start_byte": 107400, "end_byte": 107504, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 566.1950268554688, "cut_end_time": 572.3200268554688, "narration": {"text": "Even where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore.", "cut_start_time": 537.8649755859375, "cut_end_time": 544.4200380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "A whistle had been shrilling for minutes. Now another group came onto the scene, and the Planters' men began getting out rapidly. Some of the citizens looked up and yelled, but it was too late. From the approaching cars, pipes projected forward. Streams of liquid jetted out, and their agonized cries followed.\n\nEven where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore. \"Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air.\"\n\nBut the trick worked. In no time, men in crude masks were clearing out the booth, driving the last struggling citizens away, and getting ready for business as usual.\n\nMurdoch turned on his heel. \"I've had enough. I've made up my mind,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy frowned, but supplied the information. Bruce Gordon pulled Murdoch aside. \"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"\n\n\"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- \"\n\n\"Okay,\" Gordon said bitterly. He'd liked Asa Murdoch, had begun to respect him. It hurt to see that what he'd considered hardheadedness was just another case of a fool fighting dragons with a paper sword.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"", "start_byte": 107585, "end_byte": 107682, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.9949926757813, "cut_end_time": 585.6601176757813, "narration": {"text": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.", "cut_start_time": 699.2950048828126, "cut_end_time": 708.1200048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air.\"\n\nBut the trick worked. In no time, men in crude masks were clearing out the booth, driving the last struggling citizens away, and getting ready for business as usual.\n\nMurdoch turned on his heel. \"I've had enough. I've made up my mind,\" he said. \"The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?\"\n\nIzzy frowned, but supplied the information. Bruce Gordon pulled Murdoch aside. <|quote_start|>\"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- \"\n\n\"Okay,\" Gordon said bitterly. He'd liked Asa Murdoch, had begun to respect him. It hurt to see that what he'd considered hardheadedness was just another case of a fool fighting dragons with a paper sword.\n\n\"Okay, it's your death certificate", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Okay, it's your death certificate,", "start_byte": 108093, "end_byte": 108128, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 615.1649780273438, "cut_end_time": 617.9000405273438, "narration": {"text": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.", "cut_start_time": 699.2950048828126, "cut_end_time": 708.1200048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this.\"\n\n\"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- \"\n\n\"Okay,\" Gordon said bitterly. He'd liked Asa Murdoch, had begun to respect him. It hurt to see that what he'd considered hardheadedness was just another case of a fool fighting dragons with a paper sword.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Okay, it's your death certificate,\"<|quote_end|> he said, and turned back toward Izzy. \"Go send your sob stories, Murdoch.\"\n\nThey taught a bunch of pretty maxims in school -- even slum kids learned that honesty was the best policy, while their honest parents rotted in unheated holes, and the racketeers rode around in fancy cars. It had got him once. He'd refused to take a dive as a boxer; he'd tried to play honest cards; he'd tried honesty on his beat back on Earth. He'd tried to help the suckers in his column, and here he was.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Go send your sob stories, Murdoch.\"", "start_byte": 108168, "end_byte": 108204, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 620.464990234375, "cut_end_time": 622.390052734375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.", "cut_start_time": 699.2950048828126, "cut_end_time": 708.1200048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- \"\n\n\"Okay,\" Gordon said bitterly. He'd liked Asa Murdoch, had begun to respect him. It hurt to see that what he'd considered hardheadedness was just another case of a fool fighting dragons with a paper sword.\n\n\"Okay, it's your death certificate,\" he said, and turned back toward Izzy. <|quote_start|>\"Go send your sob stories, Murdoch.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey taught a bunch of pretty maxims in school -- even slum kids learned that honesty was the best policy, while their honest parents rotted in unheated holes, and the racketeers rode around in fancy cars. It had got him once. He'd refused to take a dive as a boxer; he'd tried to play honest cards; he'd tried honesty on his beat back on Earth. He'd tried to help the suckers in his column, and here he was.\n\nAnd Gordon had been proud to serve under Murdoch.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"It ain't right, gov'nor.\"", "start_byte": 108729, "end_byte": 108755, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 658.1649829101563, "cut_end_time": 659.5400454101563, "narration": {"text": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.", "cut_start_time": 699.2950048828126, "cut_end_time": 708.1200048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "They taught a bunch of pretty maxims in school -- even slum kids learned that honesty was the best policy, while their honest parents rotted in unheated holes, and the racketeers rode around in fancy cars. It had got him once. He'd refused to take a dive as a boxer; he'd tried to play honest cards; he'd tried honesty on his beat back on Earth. He'd tried to help the suckers in his column, and here he was.\n\nAnd Gordon had been proud to serve under Murdoch.\n\n\"Come on, Izzy,\" he said. \"Let's vote!\"\n\nIzzy shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"It ain't right, gov'nor.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Let him do what he damn pleases,\" Gordon told him.\n\nIzzy's small face puckered up in lines of worry. \"No, I don't mean him. I mean this business of using ammonia. I know some of the gees trying to vote. They been paying me off -- and that's a retainer, you might say. Now this gang tries to poison them. I'm still running an honest beat, and I bloody well can't vote for that! Uniform or no uniform, I'm walking beat today. And the first gee that gives trouble to the men who pay me gets a knife where he eats. When I get paid for a job, I do the job.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Let him do what he damn pleases,", "start_byte": 108757, "end_byte": 108790, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 660.1749829101562, "cut_end_time": 661.9601079101562, "narration": {"text": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.", "cut_start_time": 699.2950048828126, "cut_end_time": 708.1200048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "They taught a bunch of pretty maxims in school -- even slum kids learned that honesty was the best policy, while their honest parents rotted in unheated holes, and the racketeers rode around in fancy cars. It had got him once. He'd refused to take a dive as a boxer; he'd tried to play honest cards; he'd tried honesty on his beat back on Earth. He'd tried to help the suckers in his column, and here he was.\n\nAnd Gordon had been proud to serve under Murdoch.\n\n\"Come on, Izzy,\" he said. \"Let's vote!\"\n\nIzzy shook his head. \"It ain't right, gov'nor.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let him do what he damn pleases,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon told him.\n\nIzzy's small face puckered up in lines of worry. \"No, I don't mean him. I mean this business of using ammonia. I know some of the gees trying to vote. They been paying me off -- and that's a retainer, you might say. Now this gang tries to poison them. I'm still running an honest beat, and I bloody well can't vote for that! Uniform or no uniform, I'm walking beat today. And the first gee that gives trouble to the men who pay me gets a knife where he eats. When I get paid for a job, I do the job.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Mrs. Mary Edelstein,", "start_byte": 109802, "end_byte": 109823, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 734.464990234375, "cut_end_time": 736.010115234375, "narration": {"text": " she was saying. The Wayne man nodded, and there was no protest. She picked up a Wayne ballot, and dropped it in the box.", "cut_start_time": 736.2350170898437, "cut_end_time": 744.3800795898437, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.\n\nHe went down the row, voting regularly. The Planters had things in order. The mess had already been cleaned up when he arrived at the cheaper end of the beat. It was the last place where he'd be expected to do his duty by Wayne's administration; he waited in line.\n\nThen a voice hit at his ears, and he looked up to see Sheila Corey only two places in front of him. <|quote_start|>\"Mrs. Mary Edelstein,\"<|quote_end|> she was saying. The Wayne man nodded, and there was no protest. She picked up a Wayne ballot, and dropped it in the box.\n\nThen her eyes fell on Gordon. She hesitated for a second, bit her lips, and finally moved out into the crowd.\n\nHe could see no sign of her as he stepped out a minute later, but the back of his neck prickled.\n\nHe started out of the crowd, trying to act normal, but glancing down to make sure the gun was in its proper position. Satisfied, he wheeled suddenly and spotted her behind him, before she could slip out of sight.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was saying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Get out, Gordon, before they gang up on us!\"", "start_byte": 113616, "end_byte": 113661, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 982.6849755859375, "cut_end_time": 984.8801005859375, "narration": {"text": "But Gordon had spotted the open trunk of the gray car. He shook his head and tried to indicate it. Trench jerked his thumb and leaped to his feet, rushing back.", "cut_start_time": 885.5149951171875, "cut_end_time": 894.5201201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "The Star Point men were winning, though it was tough going. They had fought their way almost to the booth, but there a V of Planters' cars had been gotten into position somehow, and gunfire was coming from behind them. As he watched, a huge man reached over one of the cars, picked up a Star Point man, and lifted him behind the barricade.\n\nThe gag had just come out when the Star Point man jumped into view again, waving a rag over his head and yelling. Captain Trench followed him out, and began pointing toward the gray car.\n\n\"They want me,\" Murdoch gasped thickly. <|quote_start|>\"Get out, Gordon, before they gang up on us!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon jerked his eyes back toward the alley on the other side. It went at an angle and would offer some protection.\n\nHe looked back, just as bullets began to land against the metal of the car. Murdoch held up one finger and put himself into a position to make a run for it. Then he brought the finger down sharply, and the two leaped out.\n\nTrench's ex-Marine bellow carried over the fighting. \"Get the old man!\"\n\nBruce Gordon had no time to look back. He hit the alley in five heart-ripping leaps and was around the bend. Then he swung, just as Murdoch made it. Bullets spatted against the walls, and he saw blood pumping from under Murdoch's right shoulder.", "narrative_information_pred": {"gasped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thickly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"Get the old man!\"", "start_byte": 114057, "end_byte": 114075, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1010.7449755859375, "cut_end_time": 1011.9001005859375, "narration": {"text": "A fresh cry from the street cut into his order, however. Gordon risked a quick look, then stepped farther out to make sure.", "cut_start_time": 1030.644990234375, "cut_end_time": 1039.070115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"Get out, Gordon, before they gang up on us!\"\n\nGordon jerked his eyes back toward the alley on the other side. It went at an angle and would offer some protection.\n\nHe looked back, just as bullets began to land against the metal of the car. Murdoch held up one finger and put himself into a position to make a run for it. Then he brought the finger down sharply, and the two leaped out.\n\nTrench's ex-Marine bellow carried over the fighting. <|quote_start|>\"Get the old man!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon had no time to look back. He hit the alley in five heart-ripping leaps and was around the bend. Then he swung, just as Murdoch made it. Bullets spatted against the walls, and he saw blood pumping from under Murdoch's right shoulder.\n\n\"Keep going!\" Murdoch ordered.\n\nA fresh cry from the street cut into his order, however. Gordon risked a quick look, then stepped farther out to make sure.\n\nThe surprise raid by the Star Pointers hadn't been quite as much of a surprise as expected. Coming down the street, with no regard for men trying to get out of their way, the trucks of the Croopsters were battering aside the few who could not reach safety. There were no machine guns this time.", "narrative_information_pred": {"bellow": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Or should I carry you?\"", "start_byte": 115117, "end_byte": 115141, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1080.3750341796874, "cut_end_time": 1081.4900966796874, "narration": {"text": "A fresh cry from the street cut into his order, however. Gordon risked a quick look, then stepped farther out to make sure.", "cut_start_time": 1030.644990234375, "cut_end_time": 1039.070115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "The surprise raid by the Star Pointers hadn't been quite as much of a surprise as expected. Coming down the street, with no regard for men trying to get out of their way, the trucks of the Croopsters were battering aside the few who could not reach safety. There were no machine guns this time.\n\nThey smacked into the tangle of Star Point trucks, and came to a grinding halt, men piling out ready for battle. Gordon nodded. In a few minutes, Wayne's supporters would have the booth again; there'd be a delay before any organized search could be made for the fugitives. He looked down at Murdoch's shoulder.\n\n\"Come on,\" he said finally. <|quote_start|>\"Or should I carry you?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMurdoch shook his head. \"I'll walk. Get me to a place where we can talk -- and be damned to this. Gordon, I've got to talk -- but I don't have to live. I mean that!\"\n\nGordon started off, disregarding the words; a place of safety had to come first. He picked his way down alleys and small streets. The older man kept trying to stop to speak, but Gordon gave him no opportunity. There was one chance....\n\nIt was farther than he'd thought, and Gordon began to suspect he'd missed the way, until he saw the drugstore. Now it all fell into place -- the first beat he'd had with Izzy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"I'll walk. Get me to a place where we can talk -- and be damned to this. Gordon, I've got to talk -- but I don't have to live. I mean that!\"", "start_byte": 115167, "end_byte": 115308, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1084.5449853515624, "cut_end_time": 1095.5200478515624, "narration": {"text": "A fresh cry from the street cut into his order, however. Gordon risked a quick look, then stepped farther out to make sure.", "cut_start_time": 1030.644990234375, "cut_end_time": 1039.070115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "The surprise raid by the Star Pointers hadn't been quite as much of a surprise as expected. Coming down the street, with no regard for men trying to get out of their way, the trucks of the Croopsters were battering aside the few who could not reach safety. There were no machine guns this time.\n\nThey smacked into the tangle of Star Point trucks, and came to a grinding halt, men piling out ready for battle. Gordon nodded. In a few minutes, Wayne's supporters would have the booth again; there'd be a delay before any organized search could be made for the fugitives. He looked down at Murdoch's shoulder.\n\n\"Come on,\" he said finally. \"Or should I carry you?\"\n\nMurdoch shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"I'll walk. Get me to a place where we can talk -- and be damned to this. Gordon, I've got to talk -- but I don't have to live. I mean that!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon started off, disregarding the words; a place of safety had to come first. He picked his way down alleys and small streets. The older man kept trying to stop to speak, but Gordon gave him no opportunity. There was one chance....\n\nIt was farther than he'd thought, and Gordon began to suspect he'd missed the way, until he saw the drugstore. Now it all fell into place -- the first beat he'd had with Izzy.\n\nHe ducked down back alleys until he reached the right section. He scanned the street, jumped to the door of the little liquor store and began banging on it. There was no answer, though he was sure the old couple lived just over the store.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"A man in distress!", "start_byte": 116046, "end_byte": 116065, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1148.95501953125, "cut_end_time": 1150.14008203125, "narration": {"text": " he yelled back. There was no way to identify himself; he could only hope she would look.", "cut_start_time": 1150.0150390625, "cut_end_time": 1156.2101015624999, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "It was farther than he'd thought, and Gordon began to suspect he'd missed the way, until he saw the drugstore. Now it all fell into place -- the first beat he'd had with Izzy.\n\nHe ducked down back alleys until he reached the right section. He scanned the street, jumped to the door of the little liquor store and began banging on it. There was no answer, though he was sure the old couple lived just over the store.\n\nHe began banging again. Finally, a feeble voice sounded from inside. \"Who is it?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"A man in distress!\"<|quote_end|> he yelled back. There was no way to identify himself; he could only hope she would look.\n\nThe entrance seal opened briefly; then it flashed open all the way. He motioned to Murdoch, and jumped to help the failing man to the entrance. The old lady looked, then moved quickly to the other side.\n\n\"Ach, Gott,\" she breathed. Her hands trembled as she relocked the seal. Then she brushed the thin hair off her face, and pointed. Gordon followed her up the stairs, carrying Murdoch on his back. She opened a door, passed through a tiny kitchen, and threw open another door to a bedroom.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He would try to vote. I told him and told him -- and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here.\"", "start_byte": 116746, "end_byte": 116883, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1202.4949902343749, "cut_end_time": 1211.800115234375, "narration": {"text": "The old man lay on the bed, and this time there was no question of concussion. The woman nodded.", "cut_start_time": 1196.4050439453124, "cut_end_time": 1202.0400439453124, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "The entrance seal opened briefly; then it flashed open all the way. He motioned to Murdoch, and jumped to help the failing man to the entrance. The old lady looked, then moved quickly to the other side.\n\n\"Ach, Gott,\" she breathed. Her hands trembled as she relocked the seal. Then she brushed the thin hair off her face, and pointed. Gordon followed her up the stairs, carrying Murdoch on his back. She opened a door, passed through a tiny kitchen, and threw open another door to a bedroom.\n\nThe old man lay on the bed, and this time there was no question of concussion. The woman nodded. <|quote_start|>\"Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He would try to vote. I told him and told him -- and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon felt sick. He started to turn, but she shook her head quickly. \"No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here.\"\n\nShe lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. \"I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water.\"\n\nAsa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here.\"", "start_byte": 116955, "end_byte": 117041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1218.5450341796875, "cut_end_time": 1225.1000341796873, "narration": {"text": "He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips.", "cut_start_time": 1318.8949560546873, "cut_end_time": 1323.8300185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\"Ach, Gott,\" she breathed. Her hands trembled as she relocked the seal. Then she brushed the thin hair off her face, and pointed. Gordon followed her up the stairs, carrying Murdoch on his back. She opened a door, passed through a tiny kitchen, and threw open another door to a bedroom.\n\nThe old man lay on the bed, and this time there was no question of concussion. The woman nodded. \"Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He would try to vote. I told him and told him -- and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here.\"\n\nGordon felt sick. He started to turn, but she shook her head quickly. <|quote_start|>\"No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. \"I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water.\"\n\nAsa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them. \"Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"started": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water.\"", "start_byte": 117237, "end_byte": 117297, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1238.5650341796875, "cut_end_time": 1242.4300341796875, "narration": {"text": "He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips.", "cut_start_time": 1318.8949560546873, "cut_end_time": 1323.8300185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\"Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He would try to vote. I told him and told him -- and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here.\"\n\nGordon felt sick. He started to turn, but she shook her head quickly. \"No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here.\"\n\nShe lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. <|quote_start|>\"I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAsa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them. \"Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!\"\n\n\"I'm listening!\"\n\n\"With your mind, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level -- policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed -- That's why we've had to work under all the cover -- and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here -- Trench was our man -- Sold us out! We've got junior men -- down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here -- now!", "narrative_information_pred": {"helped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "lower": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "gentle": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!\"", "start_byte": 117444, "end_byte": 117506, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1257.2550439453123, "cut_end_time": 1262.5000439453124, "narration": {"text": "He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips.", "cut_start_time": 1318.8949560546873, "cut_end_time": 1323.8300185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\"No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here.\"\n\nShe lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. \"I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water.\"\n\nAsa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them. <|quote_start|>\"Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I'm listening!\"\n\n\"With your mind, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level -- policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed -- That's why we've had to work under all the cover -- and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here -- Trench was our man -- Sold us out! We've got junior men -- down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here -- now!", "narrative_information_pred": {"protested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you -- because I have to.\"", "start_byte": 118018, "end_byte": 118205, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1305.3950341796874, "cut_end_time": 1317.5000341796874, "narration": {"text": "He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips.", "cut_start_time": 1318.8949560546873, "cut_end_time": 1323.8300185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"With your mind, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level -- policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed -- That's why we've had to work under all the cover -- and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here -- Trench was our man -- Sold us out! We've got junior men -- down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here -- now!\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you -- because I have to.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. \"Pappa,\" she said slowly. \"He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called....\"\n\nShe went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.\n\n\"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging.\" He groaned; sweat popped out on his forehead, but his eyes never left Gordon's.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "2", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\"He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called....\"", "start_byte": 118305, "end_byte": 118375, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1326.87501953125, "cut_end_time": 1331.64008203125, "narration": {"text": "She went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.", "cut_start_time": 1332.7050341796873, "cut_end_time": 1339.0700341796874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\"With your mind, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level -- policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed -- That's why we've had to work under all the cover -- and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here -- Trench was our man -- Sold us out! We've got junior men -- down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here -- now!\n\n\"Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you -- because I have to.\"\n\nHe swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. \"Pappa,\" she said slowly. <|quote_start|>\"He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called....\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.\n\n\"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging.\" He groaned; sweat popped out on his forehead, but his eyes never left Gordon's. \"Hell's going to pop. The government's just waiting to step in; Earth wants to take over.\"\n\n\"It should,\" Gordon said.\n\n\"No! We've studied these things. Mars won't give up -- and Earth wants a plum, not responsibility. You'll have civil war and the whole planetary development ruined. Security's the only hope, Gordon -- the only chance Mars had, has, or will have! Believe me, I know. Security has to be notified. There's a code message I had ready -- a message to a friend -- even you can send it. And they'll be watching. I've got the basic plans in the book here.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging.", "start_byte": 118476, "end_byte": 118600, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1339.4949902343749, "cut_end_time": 1347.500115234375, "narration": {"text": "She went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.", "cut_start_time": 1332.7050341796873, "cut_end_time": 1339.0700341796874, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\"Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you -- because I have to.\"\n\nHe swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. \"Pappa,\" she said slowly. \"He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called....\"\n\nShe went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging.\"<|quote_end|> He groaned; sweat popped out on his forehead, but his eyes never left Gordon's. \"Hell's going to pop. The government's just waiting to step in; Earth wants to take over.\"\n\n\"It should,\" Gordon said.\n\n\"No! We've studied these things. Mars won't give up -- and Earth wants a plum, not responsibility. You'll have civil war and the whole planetary development ruined. Security's the only hope, Gordon -- the only chance Mars had, has, or will have! Believe me, I know. Security has to be notified. There's a code message I had ready -- a message to a friend -- even you can send it. And they'll be watching. I've got the basic plans in the book here.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"groaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "\"Hell's going to pop. The government's just waiting to step in; Earth wants to take over.\"", "start_byte": 118682, "end_byte": 118772, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1354.66494140625, "cut_end_time": 1360.8500664062499, "narration": {"text": "The old woman sighed. She put down the hot water and picked up the bottle of brandy, starting down the stairs.", "cut_start_time": 1441.18494140625, "cut_end_time": 1448.50000390625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. \"Pappa,\" she said slowly. \"He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called....\"\n\nShe went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.\n\n\"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging.\" He groaned; sweat popped out on his forehead, but his eyes never left Gordon's. <|quote_start|>\"Hell's going to pop. The government's just waiting to step in; Earth wants to take over.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"It should,\" Gordon said.\n\n\"No! We've studied these things. Mars won't give up -- and Earth wants a plum, not responsibility. You'll have civil war and the whole planetary development ruined. Security's the only hope, Gordon -- the only chance Mars had, has, or will have! Believe me, I know. Security has to be notified. There's a code message I had ready -- a message to a friend -- even you can send it. And they'll be watching. I've got the basic plans in the book here.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"groaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\"Take it. You're head of Security on Mars now. It's all authorized in the plans there. You'll need the brains and knowledge of the others -- but they can't act. You can -- we know about you.\"", "start_byte": 119583, "end_byte": 119774, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1425.9250439453124, "cut_end_time": 1439.4100439453125, "narration": {"text": "The old woman sighed. She put down the hot water and picked up the bottle of brandy, starting down the stairs.", "cut_start_time": 1441.18494140625, "cut_end_time": 1448.50000390625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\"No! We've studied these things. Mars won't give up -- and Earth wants a plum, not responsibility. You'll have civil war and the whole planetary development ruined. Security's the only hope, Gordon -- the only chance Mars had, has, or will have! Believe me, I know. Security has to be notified. There's a code message I had ready -- a message to a friend -- even you can send it. And they'll be watching. I've got the basic plans in the book here.\"\n\nHe slumped back. Gordon frowned, then found the book and pulled it out as gently as he could. It was a small black memo book, covered with pages of shorthand. The back was an address book, filled with names -- many crossed out. A sheet of paper in normal writing fell out.\n\n\"The message ...\" Murdoch took another swallow of brandy. <|quote_start|>\"Take it. You're head of Security on Mars now. It's all authorized in the plans there. You'll need the brains and knowledge of the others -- but they can't act. You can -- we know about you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe old woman sighed. She put down the hot water and picked up the bottle of brandy, starting down the stairs.\n\n\"Gordon!\" Murdoch said faintly.\n\nHe turned to put his head down. From the stairs, a sudden cry and thump sounded, and something hit the floor. Gordon jumped toward the sound, to find the old lady bending over the inert figure of Sheila Corey.\n\n\"I heard someone,\" the woman said. She stared at the brandy bottle sickly. \"Gott in Himmel, look at me. Am I a killer, too, that I should strike a young and beautiful girl. She comes into my house, and I sneak behind her ... It is an evil time, young man. Here, you carry her inside. I'll get some twine to tie her up. The idea, spying on you!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"took": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "\"So Security wants me to contact the others in the book and organize things?\"", "start_byte": 120706, "end_byte": 120783, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1510.464990234375, "cut_end_time": 1514.9600527343748, "narration": {"text": " the woman said. She stared at the brandy bottle sickly.", "cut_start_time": 1467.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 1471.250033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\"Gott in Himmel, look at me. Am I a killer, too, that I should strike a young and beautiful girl. She comes into my house, and I sneak behind her ... It is an evil time, young man. Here, you carry her inside. I'll get some twine to tie her up. The idea, spying on you!\"\n\nGordon picked the girl up roughly. That capped it, he thought. There was no way of knowing how much she'd heard, or whether she'd tipped others off. He dropped her near the bed, and went over to Murdoch. The man was dying now.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So Security wants me to contact the others in the book and organize things?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yes.\" Murdoch swallowed. \"Not a good chance, then -- but a chance. Still time -- I think. Gordon?\"\n\n\"What else can I do?\" Bruce Gordon asked.\n\nHe knew it was no answer, but Asa Murdoch apparently accepted it as a promise. The gray-speckled head relaxed and rolled sideways on the bloody pillow.\n\n\"Dead,\" Gordon said to the woman, as she came up with the twine. \"Dead, fighting wind-mills. And maybe winning. I don't know.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 65}, {"text": "\"Not a good chance, then -- but a chance. Still time -- I think. Gordon?\"", "start_byte": 120811, "end_byte": 120884, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1518.215048828125, "cut_end_time": 1526.2600488281248, "narration": {"text": " the woman said. She stared at the brandy bottle sickly.", "cut_start_time": 1467.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 1471.250033203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\"Gott in Himmel, look at me. Am I a killer, too, that I should strike a young and beautiful girl. She comes into my house, and I sneak behind her ... It is an evil time, young man. Here, you carry her inside. I'll get some twine to tie her up. The idea, spying on you!\"\n\nGordon picked the girl up roughly. That capped it, he thought. There was no way of knowing how much she'd heard, or whether she'd tipped others off. He dropped her near the bed, and went over to Murdoch. The man was dying now.\n\n\"So Security wants me to contact the others in the book and organize things?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Murdoch swallowed. <|quote_start|>\"Not a good chance, then -- but a chance. Still time -- I think. Gordon?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"What else can I do?\" Bruce Gordon asked.\n\nHe knew it was no answer, but Asa Murdoch apparently accepted it as a promise. The gray-speckled head relaxed and rolled sideways on the bloody pillow.\n\n\"Dead,\" Gordon said to the woman, as she came up with the twine. \"Dead, fighting wind-mills. And maybe winning. I don't know.\"\n\nHe turned toward Sheila -- a split second too late. The girl came up from the floor with a single push of her arm. She pivoted on her heel, hit the door, and her heels were clattering on the stairs. Before Gordon could reach the entrance, she was whipping around into an alley.", "narrative_information_pred": {"swallowed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 67}, {"text": "\"Dead, fighting wind-mills. And maybe winning. I don't know.\"", "start_byte": 121147, "end_byte": 121208, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1547.9250537109374, "cut_end_time": 1552.3401162109374, "narration": {"text": "He watched her go, sick inside, and the last he saw was the hand she held up, waving the little black book at him!", "cut_start_time": 1571.9149853515623, "cut_end_time": 1578.8800478515625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "\"So Security wants me to contact the others in the book and organize things?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Murdoch swallowed. \"Not a good chance, then -- but a chance. Still time -- I think. Gordon?\"\n\n\"What else can I do?\" Bruce Gordon asked.\n\nHe knew it was no answer, but Asa Murdoch apparently accepted it as a promise. The gray-speckled head relaxed and rolled sideways on the bloody pillow.\n\n\"Dead,\" Gordon said to the woman, as she came up with the twine. <|quote_start|>\"Dead, fighting wind-mills. And maybe winning. I don't know.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned toward Sheila -- a split second too late. The girl came up from the floor with a single push of her arm. She pivoted on her heel, hit the door, and her heels were clattering on the stairs. Before Gordon could reach the entrance, she was whipping around into an alley.\n\nHe watched her go, sick inside, and the last he saw was the hand she held up, waving the little black book at him!\n\nHe turned back into the liquor shop; the woman seemed to read his face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 70}, {"text": "\"I should have watched her. It is a bad day for me, young man. I failed Pappa; I failed the poor man who died -- and now I have failed you. It is better...\"", "start_byte": 121677, "end_byte": 121833, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1584.7049853515623, "cut_end_time": 1597.3900478515625, "narration": {"text": "He caught her as she fell toward him. She relaxed after a second.", "cut_start_time": 1598.6149609375, "cut_end_time": 1603.0400234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "He turned toward Sheila -- a split second too late. The girl came up from the floor with a single push of her arm. She pivoted on her heel, hit the door, and her heels were clattering on the stairs. Before Gordon could reach the entrance, she was whipping around into an alley.\n\nHe watched her go, sick inside, and the last he saw was the hand she held up, waving the little black book at him!\n\nHe turned back into the liquor shop; the woman seemed to read his face. <|quote_start|>\"I should have watched her. It is a bad day for me, young man. I failed Pappa; I failed the poor man who died -- and now I have failed you. It is better...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe caught her as she fell toward him. She relaxed after a second. \"Upstairs, please,\" she whispered, \"beside Pappa. There was nothing else. And these Martian poisons -- they are so sure, they don't hurt. Five minutes more, I think. Stay with me, I'll tell you how Pappa and I got married. I want somebody should know how it was with us once, together.\"\n\nHe stayed, then picked the two bodies up and moved them from the floor onto the bed where he had first seen the old man. He moved Murdoch's body aside, and covered the two gently. Finally, he went down the stairs, carrying Murdoch with him. The man's weight was a stiff load, even on Mars; but, somehow, he couldn't leave his body with the old couple.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 71}, {"text": "\"Upstairs, please,", "start_byte": 121901, "end_byte": 121919, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1603.71498046875, "cut_end_time": 1604.86010546875, "narration": {"text": "He stopped finally ten blocks of narrow alleys away, and put Murdoch down.", "cut_start_time": 1653.93494140625, "cut_end_time": 1659.57000390625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "He watched her go, sick inside, and the last he saw was the hand she held up, waving the little black book at him!\n\nHe turned back into the liquor shop; the woman seemed to read his face. \"I should have watched her. It is a bad day for me, young man. I failed Pappa; I failed the poor man who died -- and now I have failed you. It is better...\"\n\nHe caught her as she fell toward him. She relaxed after a second. <|quote_start|>\"Upstairs, please,\"<|quote_end|> she whispered, \"beside Pappa. There was nothing else. And these Martian poisons -- they are so sure, they don't hurt. Five minutes more, I think. Stay with me, I'll tell you how Pappa and I got married. I want somebody should know how it was with us once, together.\"\n\nHe stayed, then picked the two bodies up and moved them from the floor onto the bed where he had first seen the old man. He moved Murdoch's body aside, and covered the two gently. Finally, he went down the stairs, carrying Murdoch with him. The man's weight was a stiff load, even on Mars; but, somehow, he couldn't leave his body with the old couple.", "narrative_information_pred": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_08_delray_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 72}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a048baba02658c7ce5f5718f75b36d7a6da1eed4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Gordon reporting,", "start_byte": 124171, "end_byte": 124189, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 100.46499694824219, "cut_end_time": 101.54012194824219, "narration": {"text": "A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone.", "cut_start_time": 103.16500122070312, "cut_end_time": 112.83000122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "After the cops had dumped the unconscious kid into the back of the small squad car, and gone looking for more game, Gordon went over to look at the tattered scraps left of the opposition paper.\n\nRandolph wasn't preaching this time, but was content to report the facts he'd seen. There had been at least ninety known killings; mobs had fought citizens outside the main market for three hours.\n\nYet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious that the current administration could never win another election.\n\nBruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. <|quote_start|>\"Gordon reporting,\"<|quote_end|> he announced.\n\nA startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. \"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"\n\n\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,\" Gordon told him. \"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"\n\nTrench hesitated only a fraction of a second. \"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"\n\nGordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"", "start_byte": 124362, "end_byte": 124396, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 113.13499999999999, "cut_end_time": 115.35006249999999, "narration": {"text": "A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone.", "cut_start_time": 103.16500122070312, "cut_end_time": 112.83000122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Randolph wasn't preaching this time, but was content to report the facts he'd seen. There had been at least ninety known killings; mobs had fought citizens outside the main market for three hours.\n\nYet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious that the current administration could never win another election.\n\nBruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. \"Gordon reporting,\" he announced.\n\nA startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. <|quote_start|>\"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,\" Gordon told him. \"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"\n\nTrench hesitated only a fraction of a second. \"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"\n\nGordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.\n\nIsaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"barked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,", "start_byte": 124398, "end_byte": 124440, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 116.80500244140624, "cut_end_time": 119.40000244140624, "narration": {"text": "A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone.", "cut_start_time": 103.16500122070312, "cut_end_time": 112.83000122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Yet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious that the current administration could never win another election.\n\nBruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. \"Gordon reporting,\" he announced.\n\nA startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. \"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon told him. \"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"\n\nTrench hesitated only a fraction of a second. \"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"\n\nGordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.\n\nIsaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.\n\nThe door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the pockets.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"", "start_byte": 124459, "end_byte": 124520, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 121.26500274658203, "cut_end_time": 126.77006524658202, "narration": {"text": "A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone.", "cut_start_time": 103.16500122070312, "cut_end_time": 112.83000122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Yet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious that the current administration could never win another election.\n\nBruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. \"Gordon reporting,\" he announced.\n\nA startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. \"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"\n\n\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,\" Gordon told him. <|quote_start|>\"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench hesitated only a fraction of a second. \"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"\n\nGordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.\n\nIsaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.\n\nThe door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the pockets.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"", "start_byte": 124568, "end_byte": 124603, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 131.22500366210937, "cut_end_time": 133.62006616210937, "narration": {"text": "A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone.", "cut_start_time": 103.16500122070312, "cut_end_time": 112.83000122070312, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "Bruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. \"Gordon reporting,\" he announced.\n\nA startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. \"Gordon? Where the hell you been?\"\n\n\"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles,\" Gordon told him. \"With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon.\"\n\nTrench hesitated only a fraction of a second. <|quote_start|>\"Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.\n\nIsaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.\n\nThe door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the pockets.", "narrative_information_pred": {"hesitated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and wanted me to send a message to Earth for him.\"", "start_byte": 125264, "end_byte": 125353, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 185.37500671386718, "cut_end_time": 191.4400692138672, "narration": {"text": "Isaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.", "cut_start_time": 145.90499267578124, "cut_end_time": 152.19011767578124, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Isaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.\n\nThe door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the pockets.\n\nFinally, he stood up, frowning. \"He's dead, all right. I don't get it. If you hadn't reported in ... Gordon, did he try to make you think he was -- \"\n\n\"Security?\" Gordon filled in. <|quote_start|>\"Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and wanted me to send a message to Earth for him.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench nodded, a touch of relief on his face. \"Crazy!\"\n\nGordon grimaced faintly.\n\n\"Crazy,\" Trench repeated. \"He must have been to spin that story ... By the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead if you weren't, I guess.\"\n\nGordon made no comment, and Trench said, \"I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"filled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"He must have been to spin that story ... By the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead if you weren't, I guess.\"", "start_byte": 125463, "end_byte": 125606, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 203.07500305175782, "cut_end_time": 212.67000305175782, "narration": {"text": "They didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand.", "cut_start_time": 246.7649981689453, "cut_end_time": 252.9801231689453, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "Finally, he stood up, frowning. \"He's dead, all right. I don't get it. If you hadn't reported in ... Gordon, did he try to make you think he was -- \"\n\n\"Security?\" Gordon filled in. \"Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and wanted me to send a message to Earth for him.\"\n\nTrench nodded, a touch of relief on his face. \"Crazy!\"\n\nGordon grimaced faintly.\n\n\"Crazy,\" Trench repeated. <|quote_start|>\"He must have been to spin that story ... By the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead if you weren't, I guess.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon made no comment, and Trench said, \"I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?\"\n\nThey wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been under tension, too.", "narrative_information_pred": {"repeated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?\"", "start_byte": 125649, "end_byte": 125801, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 217.5349969482422, "cut_end_time": 227.07005944824218, "narration": {"text": "They didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand.", "cut_start_time": 246.7649981689453, "cut_end_time": 252.9801231689453, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and wanted me to send a message to Earth for him.\"\n\nTrench nodded, a touch of relief on his face. \"Crazy!\"\n\nGordon grimaced faintly.\n\n\"Crazy,\" Trench repeated. \"He must have been to spin that story ... By the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead if you weren't, I guess.\"\n\nGordon made no comment, and Trench said, <|quote_start|>\"I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been under tension, too.\n\nThey didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand. \"Congratulations, by the way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant from now on.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Congratulations, by the way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant from now on.\"", "start_byte": 126150, "end_byte": 126258, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 253.8350061035156, "cut_end_time": 260.8600061035156, "narration": {"text": "Bruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 297.31499145507814, "cut_end_time": 304.5501164550781, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?\"\n\nThey wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been under tension, too.\n\nThey didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand. <|quote_start|>\"Congratulations, by the way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant from now on.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nInside, a thick effluvium hit his nose, and Gordon turned to see Mother Corey's huge bulk waddling down the hall. The old man nodded. \"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.\" His face was melancholy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"turned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "stuck": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.", "start_byte": 126405, "end_byte": 126641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 273.535, "cut_end_time": 289.85006250000004, "narration": {"text": "Bruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 297.31499145507814, "cut_end_time": 304.5501164550781, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "They wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been under tension, too.\n\nThey didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand. \"Congratulations, by the way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant from now on.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nInside, a thick effluvium hit his nose, and Gordon turned to see Mother Corey's huge bulk waddling down the hall. The old man nodded. <|quote_start|>\"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.\"<|quote_end|> His face was melancholy. \"Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?\"\n\nBruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.\n\n\"I thought you were taking a bath,\" Gordon commented.\n\nThe old man chuckled. \"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"\n\nHe turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?\"", "start_byte": 126668, "end_byte": 126705, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 293.4150122070313, "cut_end_time": 295.9600122070313, "narration": {"text": "Bruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.", "cut_start_time": 297.31499145507814, "cut_end_time": 304.5501164550781, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Inside, a thick effluvium hit his nose, and Gordon turned to see Mother Corey's huge bulk waddling down the hall. The old man nodded. \"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.\" His face was melancholy. <|quote_start|>\"Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.\n\n\"I thought you were taking a bath,\" Gordon commented.\n\nThe old man chuckled. \"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"\n\nHe turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "melancholy": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"I thought you were taking a bath,", "start_byte": 126811, "end_byte": 126845, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 305.5650085449219, "cut_end_time": 307.0300085449219, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Inside, a thick effluvium hit his nose, and Gordon turned to see Mother Corey's huge bulk waddling down the hall. The old man nodded. \"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.\" His face was melancholy. \"Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?\"\n\nBruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I thought you were taking a bath,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon commented.\n\nThe old man chuckled. \"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"\n\nHe turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"", "start_byte": 126888, "end_byte": 127049, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 310.86499755859376, "cut_end_time": 320.7100600585938, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted.\" His face was melancholy. \"Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?\"\n\nBruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.\n\n\"I thought you were taking a bath,\" Gordon commented.\n\nThe old man chuckled. <|quote_start|>\"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful. \"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"\n\nGordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security.", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"", "start_byte": 127328, "end_byte": 127446, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 343.0150146484375, "cut_end_time": 349.8800146484375, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!\"\n\nHe turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful. <|quote_start|>\"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security. \"What happened to you, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor.\" He winced, then grinned. \"So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery.\"\n\nSo the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerful": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"What happened to you, Izzy?\"", "start_byte": 127500, "end_byte": 127529, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 355.1650048828125, "cut_end_time": 356.41000488281253, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "He turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful. \"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"\n\nGordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security. <|quote_start|>\"What happened to you, Izzy?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor.\" He winced, then grinned. \"So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery.\"\n\nSo the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.\n\n* * * * *", "narrative_information_pred": {"sketched": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor.", "start_byte": 127531, "end_byte": 127616, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 357.23499145507816, "cut_end_time": 362.50005395507816, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "He turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful. \"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"\n\nGordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security. \"What happened to you, Izzy?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor.\"<|quote_end|> He winced, then grinned. \"So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery.\"\n\nSo the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.\n\n* * * * *\n\nCollections were good all week -- probably as a result of Izzy's actions. Even after he arranged to pay his income tax, and turned over his \"donation\" to the fund, Gordon was well ahead for the first time since he'd landed here.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wincing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery.\"", "start_byte": 127643, "end_byte": 127804, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 365.74498535156255, "cut_end_time": 379.28004785156253, "narration": {"text": "So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.", "cut_start_time": 380.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 389.43005517578126, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "He turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.\n\n\"Hi, gov'nor,\" he called out, his voice still cheerful. \"I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?\"\n\nGordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security. \"What happened to you, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor.\" He winced, then grinned. <|quote_start|>\"So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSo the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.\n\n* * * * *\n\nCollections were good all week -- probably as a result of Izzy's actions. Even after he arranged to pay his income tax, and turned over his \"donation\" to the fund, Gordon was well ahead for the first time since he'd landed here.\n\nHe had become almost superstitious about the way he was always left with no more than a hundred credits in his pockets. This time, he stripped himself to that sum at once, depositing the rest in the First Marsport Bank. Maybe it would break the jinx.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"It's easy enough, and you'll get plenty of credit in the fund for it. I need two men who can keep their mouths shut.\"", "start_byte": 128710, "end_byte": 128828, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 443.1349926757813, "cut_end_time": 449.62005517578126, "narration": {"text": "The next day, he drafted Izzy and Gordon for a trip outside the dome.", "cut_start_time": 438.53498657226567, "cut_end_time": 442.43004907226566, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "He had become almost superstitious about the way he was always left with no more than a hundred credits in his pockets. This time, he stripped himself to that sum at once, depositing the rest in the First Marsport Bank. Maybe it would break the jinx.\n\nThey were one of the few teams in the Seventh Precinct to make full quota. Trench was lavish in his praise. He was playing more than fair with Bruce Gordon now, but there was a basic suspicion in his eyes.\n\nThe next day, he drafted Izzy and Gordon for a trip outside the dome. <|quote_start|>\"It's easy enough, and you'll get plenty of credit in the fund for it. I need two men who can keep their mouths shut.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey idled around the station through the morning. In the late afternoon, they left in a big truck capable of hauling what would have been fifty tons on Earth. Trench drove. Outside the dome, the electric motor carried them along at a steady twenty miles an hour, almost silently.\n\nIt was Gordon's first look at the real Mars. He saw small villages where crop prospectors and hydroponic farmers lived, with a few small industrial sections scattered over the desert. As they moved out, he saw the slow change from the beaten appearance of Marsport to something that seemed no worse than would be found among the share-croppers back on Earth. It was obvious that Marsport was the poison center here.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"That's it. Take tomorrow off, if you want, and I'll fix credit for you. But just remember you haven't seen anything. You don't know any more than our old friend Murdoch!\"", "start_byte": 130622, "end_byte": 130793, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 575.0150268554688, "cut_end_time": 585.3500268554687, "narration": {"text": "The next day, he drafted Izzy and Gordon for a trip outside the dome.", "cut_start_time": 438.53498657226567, "cut_end_time": 442.43004907226566, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Darkness fell sharply, as it always did in Mars' thin air, but they went on, heading out into the dunes of the desert. When they finally stopped, they were beside a small, battered space ship. Boxes were piled all around it, and others were being tossed out. Trent leaped from the truck, motioning them to follow, and they began loading the crates hastily. It took about an hour of hard work to load the last of them, and Trench was working harder than they were. Finished, he went up to one of the men from the ship, handed over an envelope, and came back to start the truck back toward Marsport. As the dunes dwindled behind them, Gordon could see the brief flare of the little rocket taking off.\n\nThey drove back through the night as rapidly as the truck could manage. Finally, they rolled into City Hall, down a ramp, and onto an elevator that took them three levels down. Trench climbed out and nodded in satisfaction. <|quote_start|>\"That's it. Take tomorrow off, if you want, and I'll fix credit for you. But just remember you haven't seen anything. You don't know any more than our old friend Murdoch!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe led them to another elevator, then swung back to the truck.\n\n\"Guns,\" Gordon said slowly. \"Guns and contraband ammunition for the administration from Earth. And they must have paid half the graft they've taken for that. What the hell do they want it for?\"\n\nIzzy jerked a shoulder upwards and a twist ran across his pock-marked face. \"War, what else? Gov'nor, Earth must be boiling about the election. Maybe Security's getting set to spring.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Guns and contraband ammunition for the administration from Earth. And they must have paid half the graft they've taken for that. What the hell do they want it for?\"", "start_byte": 130887, "end_byte": 131052, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 594.88498046875, "cut_end_time": 605.83004296875, "narration": {"text": "Izzy jerked a shoulder upwards and a twist ran across his pock-marked face.", "cut_start_time": 606.8649975585938, "cut_end_time": 611.7401225585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "They drove back through the night as rapidly as the truck could manage. Finally, they rolled into City Hall, down a ramp, and onto an elevator that took them three levels down. Trench climbed out and nodded in satisfaction. \"That's it. Take tomorrow off, if you want, and I'll fix credit for you. But just remember you haven't seen anything. You don't know any more than our old friend Murdoch!\"\n\nHe led them to another elevator, then swung back to the truck.\n\n\"Guns,\" Gordon said slowly. <|quote_start|>\"Guns and contraband ammunition for the administration from Earth. And they must have paid half the graft they've taken for that. What the hell do they want it for?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy jerked a shoulder upwards and a twist ran across his pock-marked face. \"War, what else? Gov'nor, Earth must be boiling about the election. Maybe Security's getting set to spring.\"\n\nThe idea of Marsport rebelling against Earth seemed ridiculous. Even with guns, they wouldn't have a chance if Earth sent a force of any strength to back Security. But it was the only explanation.\n\nGordon took the next day off to look for Sheila Corey, but nobody would admit having seen her.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"War, what else? Gov'nor, Earth must be boiling about the election. Maybe Security's getting set to spring.\"", "start_byte": 131130, "end_byte": 131238, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 612.3650073242188, "cut_end_time": 620.6100073242188, "narration": {"text": "Gordon took the next day off to look for Sheila Corey, but nobody would admit having seen her.", "cut_start_time": 637.2849829101563, "cut_end_time": 643.2400454101563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"That's it. Take tomorrow off, if you want, and I'll fix credit for you. But just remember you haven't seen anything. You don't know any more than our old friend Murdoch!\"\n\nHe led them to another elevator, then swung back to the truck.\n\n\"Guns,\" Gordon said slowly. \"Guns and contraband ammunition for the administration from Earth. And they must have paid half the graft they've taken for that. What the hell do they want it for?\"\n\nIzzy jerked a shoulder upwards and a twist ran across his pock-marked face. <|quote_start|>\"War, what else? Gov'nor, Earth must be boiling about the election. Maybe Security's getting set to spring.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe idea of Marsport rebelling against Earth seemed ridiculous. Even with guns, they wouldn't have a chance if Earth sent a force of any strength to back Security. But it was the only explanation.\n\nGordon took the next day off to look for Sheila Corey, but nobody would admit having seen her.\n\nHe had seen crowds beginning to assemble all afternoon, but had paid no attention to them. Now he found the way back to Corey's blocked by a mob. Then he saw that the object of it all was the First Marsport Bank. It was only toward that that the shaking fists were raised. Gordon managed to get onto a pile of rubble where he could see over the crowd. The doors of the bank were locked shut, but men were attacking it with an improvised battering ram. As he watched, a pompous little man came to the upper window over the door and began motioning for attention. The crowd quieted almost at once, except for a single yell.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"When do we get our money?\"", "start_byte": 132156, "end_byte": 132183, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 686.8549975585938, "cut_end_time": 688.2301225585937, "narration": {"text": "A rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.", "cut_start_time": 712.03501953125, "cut_end_time": 720.37008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "He had seen crowds beginning to assemble all afternoon, but had paid no attention to them. Now he found the way back to Corey's blocked by a mob. Then he saw that the object of it all was the First Marsport Bank. It was only toward that that the shaking fists were raised. Gordon managed to get onto a pile of rubble where he could see over the crowd. The doors of the bank were locked shut, but men were attacking it with an improvised battering ram. As he watched, a pompous little man came to the upper window over the door and began motioning for attention. The crowd quieted almost at once, except for a single yell. <|quote_start|>\"When do we get our money?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Please. Please.\" The voice reached back thinly as the bank president got his silence. \"Please. It won't do you any good. Not a bit. We're broke. Not a cent left! And don't go blaming me. I didn't start the rush. Your friends did that. They took all the money, and now we're cleaned out. You can't -- \"\n\nA rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yell": {"id": "0", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"That's the way a panic is, cobber,", "start_byte": 132813, "end_byte": 132848, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 735.83501953125, "cut_end_time": 737.9500195312501, "narration": {"text": "The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood.", "cut_start_time": 756.7750244140625, "cut_end_time": 761.0000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Please. Please.\" The voice reached back thinly as the bank president got his silence. \"Please. It won't do you any good. Not a bit. We're broke. Not a cent left! And don't go blaming me. I didn't start the rush. Your friends did that. They took all the money, and now we're cleaned out. You can't -- \"\n\nA rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.\n\nGordon dropped from the rubble, staring at the bank. He'd played it safe this time -- he'd put his money away, to make sure he'd have it!\n\nA heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey. <|quote_start|>\"That's the way a panic is, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> the man said. \"There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.\" He patted his side, where a bulge showed. \"And I just made it, too.\"\n\nThe mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. \"But what started it?\"\n\n\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.", "start_byte": 132864, "end_byte": 133026, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 740.0150146484375, "cut_end_time": 751.0300771484375, "narration": {"text": "The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood.", "cut_start_time": 756.7750244140625, "cut_end_time": 761.0000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"Please. Please.\" The voice reached back thinly as the bank president got his silence. \"Please. It won't do you any good. Not a bit. We're broke. Not a cent left! And don't go blaming me. I didn't start the rush. Your friends did that. They took all the money, and now we're cleaned out. You can't -- \"\n\nA rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.\n\nGordon dropped from the rubble, staring at the bank. He'd played it safe this time -- he'd put his money away, to make sure he'd have it!\n\nA heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey. \"That's the way a panic is, cobber,\" the man said. <|quote_start|>\"There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.\"<|quote_end|> He patted his side, where a bulge showed. \"And I just made it, too.\"\n\nThe mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. \"But what started it?\"\n\n\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"\n\nGordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"And I just made it, too.\"", "start_byte": 133070, "end_byte": 133096, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 754.6449853515625, "cut_end_time": 756.1001103515625, "narration": {"text": "The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood.", "cut_start_time": 756.7750244140625, "cut_end_time": 761.0000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "Gordon dropped from the rubble, staring at the bank. He'd played it safe this time -- he'd put his money away, to make sure he'd have it!\n\nA heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey. \"That's the way a panic is, cobber,\" the man said. \"There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.\" He patted his side, where a bulge showed. <|quote_start|>\"And I just made it, too.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. \"But what started it?\"\n\n\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"\n\nGordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.", "narrative_information_pred": {"patted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"But what started it?\"", "start_byte": 133171, "end_byte": 133193, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 761.7349853515625, "cut_end_time": 762.8001103515625, "narration": {"text": "\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"", "cut_start_time": 763.605029296875, "cut_end_time": 773.1000917968751, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey. \"That's the way a panic is, cobber,\" the man said. \"There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.\" He patted his side, where a bulge showed. \"And I just made it, too.\"\n\nThe mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. <|quote_start|>\"But what started it?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"\n\nGordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.\n\nIzzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. \"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,", "start_byte": 133582, "end_byte": 133631, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 792.335009765625, "cut_end_time": 795.620072265625, "narration": {"text": "Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized.", "cut_start_time": 788.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 791.1200893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. \"But what started it?\"\n\n\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"\n\nGordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.\n\nIzzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. <|quote_start|>\"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?\"\n\n\"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!\"\n\n\"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.\"\n\nIt gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat. But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?\"", "start_byte": 133642, "end_byte": 133767, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 796.6849853515625, "cut_end_time": 803.7600478515625, "narration": {"text": "Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized.", "cut_start_time": 788.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 791.1200893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- \"\n\nGordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.\n\nIzzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. \"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!\"\n\n\"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.\"\n\nIt gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat. But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!\"", "start_byte": 133769, "end_byte": 133813, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 805.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 809.2501030273438, "narration": {"text": "Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized.", "cut_start_time": 788.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 791.1200893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "Gordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.\n\nIzzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. \"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,\" he said. \"They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.\"\n\nIt gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat. But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.\"", "start_byte": 133815, "end_byte": 133969, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 810.1350268554688, "cut_end_time": 821.3300893554688, "narration": {"text": "Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized.", "cut_start_time": 788.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 791.1200893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Gordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.\n\nIzzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. \"If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,\" he said. \"They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?\"\n\n\"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat. But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_09_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 36}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b307379661f532fe4302295662405509eb39cc6e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Special pass to leave at this hour,", "start_byte": 136810, "end_byte": 136846, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 89.62499694824218, "cut_end_time": 91.58012194824218, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun.", "cut_start_time": 97.39499725341797, "cut_end_time": 102.32005975341796, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He checked the batteries on his suit and put it on quickly. There was no point in wearing the helmet inside the dome, but it was better than trying to rent one at the lockers. He buckled it to a strap. The knife slid into its sheath, and the gun holster snapped onto the suit. As a final thought, he picked up the stout locust stick he'd used under Murdoch.\n\nThere were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Special pass to leave at this hour,\"<|quote_end|> the guard there reminded him. \"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"\n\nGordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. \"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,\" he said curtly. \"Get the hell out of my way.\"\n\nThe guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. \"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"\n\nHe was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"reminded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"", "start_byte": 136878, "end_byte": 136913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 93.41499877929687, "cut_end_time": 95.26006127929686, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun.", "cut_start_time": 97.39499725341797, "cut_end_time": 102.32005975341796, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "He checked the batteries on his suit and put it on quickly. There was no point in wearing the helmet inside the dome, but it was better than trying to rent one at the lockers. He buckled it to a strap. The knife slid into its sheath, and the gun holster snapped onto the suit. As a final thought, he picked up the stout locust stick he'd used under Murdoch.\n\nThere were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.\n\n\"Special pass to leave at this hour,\" the guard there reminded him. <|quote_start|>\"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. \"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,\" he said curtly. \"Get the hell out of my way.\"\n\nThe guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. \"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"\n\nHe was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"reminded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,", "start_byte": 136985, "end_byte": 137031, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 102.85499755859374, "cut_end_time": 105.70006005859375, "narration": {"text": "The guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through.", "cut_start_time": 110.01500244140624, "cut_end_time": 116.26000244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "There were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.\n\n\"Special pass to leave at this hour,\" the guard there reminded him. \"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"\n\nGordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. <|quote_start|>\"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,\"<|quote_end|> he said curtly. \"Get the hell out of my way.\"\n\nThe guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. \"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"\n\nHe was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.\n\nRockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "curtly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Get the hell out of my way.\"", "start_byte": 137049, "end_byte": 137078, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 107.26500091552734, "cut_end_time": 108.86006341552734, "narration": {"text": "The guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through.", "cut_start_time": 110.01500244140624, "cut_end_time": 116.26000244140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "There were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.\n\n\"Special pass to leave at this hour,\" the guard there reminded him. \"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"\n\nGordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. \"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,\" he said curtly. <|quote_start|>\"Get the hell out of my way.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. \"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"\n\nHe was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.\n\nRockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!\n\nHe crouched in a hollow that had once been some kind of a basement until the ships had landed and cut off their jets. Then he stood up, blinking his eyes until they could again make out the pattern of the dim bulbs. He'd seen enough by the rocket glare to know that he was headed right. And finally the ugly half-cylinder of patched brick and metal that was the old Mother Corey's Chicken Coop showed up against the faint light.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "curtly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"", "start_byte": 137176, "end_byte": 137229, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 116.64499786376953, "cut_end_time": 119.16012286376953, "narration": {"text": "Rockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!", "cut_start_time": 138.54500732421874, "cut_end_time": 145.97000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "There were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.\n\n\"Special pass to leave at this hour,\" the guard there reminded him. \"Of course, if it's urgent, pal...\"\n\nGordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. \"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business,\" he said curtly. \"Get the hell out of my way.\"\n\nThe guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. <|quote_start|>\"And you'd better be ready to open when I come back.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.\n\nRockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!\n\nHe crouched in a hollow that had once been some kind of a basement until the ships had landed and cut off their jets. Then he stood up, blinking his eyes until they could again make out the pattern of the dim bulbs. He'd seen enough by the rocket glare to know that he was headed right. And finally the ugly half-cylinder of patched brick and metal that was the old Mother Corey's Chicken Coop showed up against the faint light.", "narrative_information_pred": {"swung": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"You, Sheila, you come outa there! You come right out or I'm gonna blast that there door down. You open up.\"", "start_byte": 138623, "end_byte": 138731, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 223.03500122070312, "cut_end_time": 228.89006372070313, "narration": {"text": "Rockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!", "cut_start_time": 138.54500732421874, "cut_end_time": 145.97000732421876, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "He moved in cautiously, as silently as he could, and located the semi-secret entrance to the building without meeting anyone. Once in the tunnel that led to the building, he felt a little safer.\n\nHe removed his helmet, and strapped it to the back of his suit, out of the way. The old hall was in worse shape than before. Mother Corey had run a somewhat orderly place, with constant vigilance; Bruce Gordon could never have come into the hallway without being seen in the old days.\n\nThen a pounding sound came from the second floor, and Gordon drew back into the denser shadows, staring upwards. A heavy voice picked up the exchange of shouts.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You, Sheila, you come outa there! You come right out or I'm gonna blast that there door down. You open up.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon was already moving up the stairs when a second voice reached him, and this one was familiar. \"Jurgens don't want you; all he wants is this place -- we got use for it. It don't belong to you, anyhow! Come out now, and we'll let you go peaceful. Or stay in there and we'll blast you out -- in pieces.\"\n\nIt was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Jurgens don't want you; all he wants is this place -- we got use for it. It don't belong to you, anyhow! Come out now, and we'll let you go peaceful. Or stay in there and we'll blast you out -- in pieces.\"", "start_byte": 138833, "end_byte": 139039, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 237.1949932861328, "cut_end_time": 250.9600557861328, "narration": {"text": "It was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.", "cut_start_time": 252.13499938964844, "cut_end_time": 261.65006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "He removed his helmet, and strapped it to the back of his suit, out of the way. The old hall was in worse shape than before. Mother Corey had run a somewhat orderly place, with constant vigilance; Bruce Gordon could never have come into the hallway without being seen in the old days.\n\nThen a pounding sound came from the second floor, and Gordon drew back into the denser shadows, staring upwards. A heavy voice picked up the exchange of shouts.\n\n\"You, Sheila, you come outa there! You come right out or I'm gonna blast that there door down. You open up.\"\n\nGordon was already moving up the stairs when a second voice reached him, and this one was familiar. <|quote_start|>\"Jurgens don't want you; all he wants is this place -- we got use for it. It don't belong to you, anyhow! Come out now, and we'll let you go peaceful. Or stay in there and we'll blast you out -- in pieces.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.\n\n\"Come on out,\" the little man cried again. \"You don't have a chance. We've already chased all your boarders out!\"\n\nGordon tried to remember which steps had creaked the worst, but he wasn't too worried, if there were only two of them. Then his head projected above the top step, and he hesitated. Only the rat and the ape were standing near a heavy, closed door. But four others were lounging in the background. He lifted his foot to put it back down to a lower step, just as Sheila's muffled voice shrilled out a fog of profanity. He grinned, and then saw that he'd lifted his foot to a higher step.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"You don't have a chance. We've already chased all your boarders out!\"", "start_byte": 139236, "end_byte": 139306, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 265.8250024414063, "cut_end_time": 270.0800024414063, "narration": {"text": "It was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.", "cut_start_time": 252.13499938964844, "cut_end_time": 261.65006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"Jurgens don't want you; all he wants is this place -- we got use for it. It don't belong to you, anyhow! Come out now, and we'll let you go peaceful. Or stay in there and we'll blast you out -- in pieces.\"\n\nIt was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.\n\n\"Come on out,\" the little man cried again. <|quote_start|>\"You don't have a chance. We've already chased all your boarders out!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon tried to remember which steps had creaked the worst, but he wasn't too worried, if there were only two of them. Then his head projected above the top step, and he hesitated. Only the rat and the ape were standing near a heavy, closed door. But four others were lounging in the background. He lifted his foot to put it back down to a lower step, just as Sheila's muffled voice shrilled out a fog of profanity. He grinned, and then saw that he'd lifted his foot to a higher step.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"We got them all.\"", "start_byte": 141162, "end_byte": 141180, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 408.57498535156253, "cut_end_time": 409.64004785156254, "narration": {"text": "It was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.", "cut_start_time": 252.13499938964844, "cut_end_time": 261.65006188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "Gordon side-stepped and caught one of the arms, swinging the huge body over one hip. It sailed over the broken railing, to land on the floor below and crash through the rotten planking. He heard the man hit the basement, even while he was swinging the club in his hand toward the rat-faced man.\n\nThere was a thin, high-pitched scream as a collarbone broke. He slumped onto the floor, and began to try hitching his way down the steps. Gordon picked up the gun that had fallen out of the holster as the man fell and put it into his pouch. He considered the two, and decided they would be no menace.\n\n\"Okay, Sheila,\" he called out, trying to muffle his voice. <|quote_start|>\"We got them all.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Pie-Face?\" Her voice was doubtful.\n\nHe considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. \"Sure, baby. Open up!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\" There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. \"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"called": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "muffling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Sure, baby. Open up!\"", "start_byte": 141293, "end_byte": 141315, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 418.28498657226567, "cut_end_time": 419.82011157226566, "narration": {"text": "He considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like.", "cut_start_time": 413.93498535156255, "cut_end_time": 417.52004785156254, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "There was a thin, high-pitched scream as a collarbone broke. He slumped onto the floor, and began to try hitching his way down the steps. Gordon picked up the gun that had fallen out of the holster as the man fell and put it into his pouch. He considered the two, and decided they would be no menace.\n\n\"Okay, Sheila,\" he called out, trying to muffle his voice. \"We got them all.\"\n\n\"Pie-Face?\" Her voice was doubtful.\n\nHe considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. <|quote_start|>\"Sure, baby. Open up!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\" There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. \"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. \"You!\"\n\n\"Me,\" he agreed. \"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"\n\nHer hand streaked to a gun in her belt. \"Kill him!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.", "start_byte": 141317, "end_byte": 141359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 423.2850061035156, "cut_end_time": 426.09006860351565, "narration": {"text": "He considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like.", "cut_start_time": 413.93498535156255, "cut_end_time": 417.52004785156254, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "There was a thin, high-pitched scream as a collarbone broke. He slumped onto the floor, and began to try hitching his way down the steps. Gordon picked up the gun that had fallen out of the holster as the man fell and put it into his pouch. He considered the two, and decided they would be no menace.\n\n\"Okay, Sheila,\" he called out, trying to muffle his voice. \"We got them all.\"\n\n\"Pie-Face?\" Her voice was doubtful.\n\nHe considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. \"Sure, baby. Open up!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\"<|quote_end|> There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. \"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. \"You!\"\n\n\"Me,\" he agreed. \"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"\n\nHer hand streaked to a gun in her belt. \"Kill him!\"\n\nThis time, he didn't wait to be attacked. He went for the door, knocking her aside. His knee caught the outside of her hip as she spun; she fell over, dropping the gun.", "narrative_information_pred": {"talked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"", "start_byte": 141431, "end_byte": 141498, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 431.2450048828125, "cut_end_time": 434.7100673828125, "narration": {"text": "The door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly.", "cut_start_time": 435.16500976562503, "cut_end_time": 443.10000976562503, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "There was a thin, high-pitched scream as a collarbone broke. He slumped onto the floor, and began to try hitching his way down the steps. Gordon picked up the gun that had fallen out of the holster as the man fell and put it into his pouch. He considered the two, and decided they would be no menace.\n\n\"Okay, Sheila,\" he called out, trying to muffle his voice. \"We got them all.\"\n\n\"Pie-Face?\" Her voice was doubtful.\n\nHe considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. \"Sure, baby. Open up!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\" There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. <|quote_start|>\"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. \"You!\"\n\n\"Me,\" he agreed. \"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"\n\nHer hand streaked to a gun in her belt. \"Kill him!\"\n\nThis time, he didn't wait to be attacked. He went for the door, knocking her aside. His knee caught the outside of her hip as she spun; she fell over, dropping the gun.", "narrative_information_pred": {"talked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"You!\"", "start_byte": 141603, "end_byte": 141609, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 442.975, "cut_end_time": 444.54006250000003, "narration": {"text": "The door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly.", "cut_start_time": 435.16500976562503, "cut_end_time": 443.10000976562503, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Pie-Face?\" Her voice was doubtful.\n\nHe considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. \"Sure, baby. Open up!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\" There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. \"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. <|quote_start|>\"You!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Me,\" he agreed. \"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"\n\nHer hand streaked to a gun in her belt. \"Kill him!\"\n\nThis time, he didn't wait to be attacked. He went for the door, knocking her aside. His knee caught the outside of her hip as she spun; she fell over, dropping the gun.\n\nThe two men in the room were both holding knives, but in the ridiculous overhand position that seems to be an ingrained stupidity of the human race, until it's taught better. A single flip of his locust club against their wrists accounted for both of the knives. He grabbed them by the hair of their heads, then, and brought the two skulls together savagely.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"", "start_byte": 141628, "end_byte": 141657, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 446.175009765625, "cut_end_time": 447.66007226562505, "narration": {"text": "The door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly.", "cut_start_time": 435.16500976562503, "cut_end_time": 443.10000976562503, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "He considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. \"Sure, baby. Open up!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut.\" There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. \"Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!\"\n\nThe door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. \"You!\"\n\n\"Me,\" he agreed. <|quote_start|>\"And lucky for you, Cuddles.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHer hand streaked to a gun in her belt. \"Kill him!\"\n\nThis time, he didn't wait to be attacked. He went for the door, knocking her aside. His knee caught the outside of her hip as she spun; she fell over, dropping the gun.\n\nThe two men in the room were both holding knives, but in the ridiculous overhand position that seems to be an ingrained stupidity of the human race, until it's taught better. A single flip of his locust club against their wrists accounted for both of the knives. He grabbed them by the hair of their heads, then, and brought the two skulls together savagely.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Hello, O'Neill,", "start_byte": 142458, "end_byte": 142474, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 501.84501098632813, "cut_end_time": 502.90001098632814, "narration": {"text": "The door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly.", "cut_start_time": 435.16500976562503, "cut_end_time": 443.10000976562503, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "The two men in the room were both holding knives, but in the ridiculous overhand position that seems to be an ingrained stupidity of the human race, until it's taught better. A single flip of his locust club against their wrists accounted for both of the knives. He grabbed them by the hair of their heads, then, and brought the two skulls together savagely.\n\nSheila lay stretched out on the floor, where her head had apparently struck against the leg of a bed. Gordon shoved the bodies of the two men aside and looked down at the wreck of a man who lay on the dirty blanket. <|quote_start|>\"Hello, O'Neill,\"<|quote_end|> he said.\n\nThe former leader of the Stonewall gang stared up at the club swinging from Gordon's wrist. \"You ain't gonna beat me this time? I'm a sick man. Sick. Can't hurt nobody. Don't beat me again.\"\n\nGordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another. \"All right,\" he said. \"Just stay there until I get away from this rat's nest and I won't hit you. I won't even touch you.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"You ain't gonna beat me this time? I'm a sick man. Sick. Can't hurt nobody. Don't beat me again.\"", "start_byte": 142578, "end_byte": 142676, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 509.484990234375, "cut_end_time": 515.370052734375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another.", "cut_start_time": 516.82498046875, "cut_end_time": 525.57004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "The two men in the room were both holding knives, but in the ridiculous overhand position that seems to be an ingrained stupidity of the human race, until it's taught better. A single flip of his locust club against their wrists accounted for both of the knives. He grabbed them by the hair of their heads, then, and brought the two skulls together savagely.\n\nSheila lay stretched out on the floor, where her head had apparently struck against the leg of a bed. Gordon shoved the bodies of the two men aside and looked down at the wreck of a man who lay on the dirty blanket. \"Hello, O'Neill,\" he said.\n\nThe former leader of the Stonewall gang stared up at the club swinging from Gordon's wrist. <|quote_start|>\"You ain't gonna beat me this time? I'm a sick man. Sick. Can't hurt nobody. Don't beat me again.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another. \"All right,\" he said. \"Just stay there until I get away from this rat's nest and I won't hit you. I won't even touch you.\"\n\nHe was sure enough that it was no act on O'Neill's part; he wasn't so sure about Sheila. He checked the two men on the floor, who were still out cold. Then he stepped through the door carefully, to make sure that the big bruiser hadn't come back.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Just stay there until I get away from this rat's nest and I won't hit you. I won't even touch you.\"", "start_byte": 142850, "end_byte": 142950, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 528.045009765625, "cut_end_time": 534.0800722656251, "narration": {"text": "Gordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another.", "cut_start_time": 516.82498046875, "cut_end_time": 525.57004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Sheila lay stretched out on the floor, where her head had apparently struck against the leg of a bed. Gordon shoved the bodies of the two men aside and looked down at the wreck of a man who lay on the dirty blanket. \"Hello, O'Neill,\" he said.\n\nThe former leader of the Stonewall gang stared up at the club swinging from Gordon's wrist. \"You ain't gonna beat me this time? I'm a sick man. Sick. Can't hurt nobody. Don't beat me again.\"\n\nGordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another. \"All right,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"Just stay there until I get away from this rat's nest and I won't hit you. I won't even touch you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe was sure enough that it was no act on O'Neill's part; he wasn't so sure about Sheila. He checked the two men on the floor, who were still out cold. Then he stepped through the door carefully, to make sure that the big bruiser hadn't come back.\n\nHis ears barely detected the sound Sheila made as she reached for the knife of one of the men. Then it came -- the faintest catch of breath. Gordon threw himself flat to the floor. She let out a scream as he saw her momentum carry her over him; she was at the edge of the rail, and starting to fall.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles,", "start_byte": 143611, "end_byte": 143652, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 582.1400170898438, "narration": {"text": "He caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.", "cut_start_time": 572.6250170898438, "cut_end_time": 578.3300795898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "He was sure enough that it was no act on O'Neill's part; he wasn't so sure about Sheila. He checked the two men on the floor, who were still out cold. Then he stepped through the door carefully, to make sure that the big bruiser hadn't come back.\n\nHis ears barely detected the sound Sheila made as she reached for the knife of one of the men. Then it came -- the faintest catch of breath. Gordon threw himself flat to the floor. She let out a scream as he saw her momentum carry her over him; she was at the edge of the rail, and starting to fall.\n\nHe caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles,\"<|quote_end|> he told her. \"Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way.\"\n\nFury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room. From the broken mattress on the bed, he dug out a coil of wire and bound her hands and feet with it.\n\n\"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days,\" he commented, looking toward the bed where O'Neill was cowering.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way.\"", "start_byte": 143667, "end_byte": 143751, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 583.4350122070313, "cut_end_time": 587.9900122070313, "narration": {"text": "He caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.", "cut_start_time": 572.6250170898438, "cut_end_time": 578.3300795898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "His ears barely detected the sound Sheila made as she reached for the knife of one of the men. Then it came -- the faintest catch of breath. Gordon threw himself flat to the floor. She let out a scream as he saw her momentum carry her over him; she was at the edge of the rail, and starting to fall.\n\nHe caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.\n\n\"Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles,\" he told her. <|quote_start|>\"Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nFury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room. From the broken mattress on the bed, he dug out a coil of wire and bound her hands and feet with it.\n\n\"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days,\" he commented, looking toward the bed where O'Neill was cowering. \"It looks as if your grandfather picks them better for you.\"\n\n\"You filthy-minded hog! D'you think I'd -- I'd -- One room in the place with a decent door, and you can't see why I'd choose that room to keep Jurgens' devils back. You -- You -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days,", "start_byte": 143965, "end_byte": 144029, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 602.9450195312501, "cut_end_time": 606.3300195312501, "narration": {"text": "He caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.", "cut_start_time": 572.6250170898438, "cut_end_time": 578.3300795898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "He caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.\n\n\"Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles,\" he told her. \"Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way.\"\n\nFury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room. From the broken mattress on the bed, he dug out a coil of wire and bound her hands and feet with it.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days,\"<|quote_end|> he commented, looking toward the bed where O'Neill was cowering. \"It looks as if your grandfather picks them better for you.\"\n\n\"You filthy-minded hog! D'you think I'd -- I'd -- One room in the place with a decent door, and you can't see why I'd choose that room to keep Jurgens' devils back. You -- You -- \"\n\nHe'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"It looks as if your grandfather picks them better for you.\"", "start_byte": 144096, "end_byte": 144156, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 610.6150073242188, "cut_end_time": 613.6600073242188, "narration": {"text": " a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "cut_start_time": 642.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 651.230052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way.\"\n\nFury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room. From the broken mattress on the bed, he dug out a coil of wire and bound her hands and feet with it.\n\n\"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days,\" he commented, looking toward the bed where O'Neill was cowering. <|quote_start|>\"It looks as if your grandfather picks them better for you.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You filthy-minded hog! D'you think I'd -- I'd -- One room in the place with a decent door, and you can't see why I'd choose that room to keep Jurgens' devils back. You -- You -- \"\n\nHe'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.\n\n\"I'll watch them,\" a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch,", "start_byte": 144737, "end_byte": 144787, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 654.9949975585938, "cut_end_time": 657.7800600585938, "narration": {"text": " a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "cut_start_time": 642.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 651.230052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"You filthy-minded hog! D'you think I'd -- I'd -- One room in the place with a decent door, and you can't see why I'd choose that room to keep Jurgens' devils back. You -- You -- \"\n\nHe'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.\n\n\"I'll watch them,\" a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.\n\nIzzy grinned at his confusion. <|quote_start|>\"I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"\n\n\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"", "start_byte": 144798, "end_byte": 144915, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 658.98501953125, "cut_end_time": 666.63008203125, "narration": {"text": " a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "cut_start_time": 642.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 651.230052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "He'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.\n\n\"I'll watch them,\" a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.\n\nIzzy grinned at his confusion. \"I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. \"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"", "start_byte": 144917, "end_byte": 144965, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 667.8650024414063, "cut_end_time": 670.9600024414062, "narration": {"text": " a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "cut_start_time": 642.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 651.230052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "He'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.\n\n\"I'll watch them,\" a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.\n\nIzzy grinned at his confusion. \"I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch,\" he said. \"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. \"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 30}, {"text": "\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"", "start_byte": 144967, "end_byte": 145154, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 671.8949755859376, "cut_end_time": 683.6300380859375, "narration": {"text": " a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.", "cut_start_time": 642.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 651.230052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"I'll watch them,\" a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.\n\nIzzy grinned at his confusion. \"I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch,\" he said. \"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"\n\n\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. \"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"", "start_byte": 145224, "end_byte": 145258, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 689.355029296875, "cut_end_time": 691.540091796875, "narration": {"text": "He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "cut_start_time": 715.7050122070312, "cut_end_time": 720.5600122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"\n\n\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. <|quote_start|>\"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.\n\nHe located her helmet and carried it down with him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"spat": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Shut up, Sheila,", "start_byte": 145260, "end_byte": 145277, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 692.5050170898438, "cut_end_time": 693.5800170898438, "narration": {"text": "He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "cut_start_time": 715.7050122070312, "cut_end_time": 720.5600122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "\"I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?\"\n\n\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. \"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Shut up, Sheila,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.\n\nHe located her helmet and carried it down with him. \"You're going bye-bye, Cuddles", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"Your retainer ran out.\"", "start_byte": 145290, "end_byte": 145314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 694.6650024414063, "cut_end_time": 696.2500649414063, "narration": {"text": "He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "cut_start_time": 715.7050122070312, "cut_end_time": 720.5600122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here.\"\n\nSheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. \"Traitor! Crooked little traitor!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. <|quote_start|>\"Your retainer ran out.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.\n\nHe located her helmet and carried it down with him. \"You're going bye-bye, Cuddles,\" he told her.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"You're going bye-bye, Cuddles,", "start_byte": 145690, "end_byte": 145721, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 725.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 726.9800405273438, "narration": {"text": "He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "cut_start_time": 715.7050122070312, "cut_end_time": 720.5600122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"Shut up, Sheila,\" Izzy said. \"Your retainer ran out.\"\n\nSurprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.\n\nHe located her helmet and carried it down with him. <|quote_start|>\"You're going bye-bye, Cuddles,\"<|quote_end|> he told her. \"I'm going to put this on you and then unfasten your arms and legs. But if you start to so much as wiggle your big toe, you won't sit down for a month.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips hotly, but made no reply. He screwed the helmet on, and unfastened her arms. For a second, she tensed, while he waited, grinning down at her. Then she slumped back and lay quiet as he unfastened her legs.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"I'm going to put this on you and then unfasten your arms and legs. But if you start to so much as wiggle your big toe, you won't sit down for a month.\"", "start_byte": 145736, "end_byte": 145888, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 728.814990234375, "cut_end_time": 737.260052734375, "narration": {"text": "He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.", "cut_start_time": 715.7050122070312, "cut_end_time": 720.5600122070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "Surprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.\n\nHe turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.\n\nHe located her helmet and carried it down with him. \"You're going bye-bye, Cuddles,\" he told her. <|quote_start|>\"I'm going to put this on you and then unfasten your arms and legs. But if you start to so much as wiggle your big toe, you won't sit down for a month.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe pursed her lips hotly, but made no reply. He screwed the helmet on, and unfastened her arms. For a second, she tensed, while he waited, grinning down at her. Then she slumped back and lay quiet as he unfastened her legs.\n\nHe tossed her over his shoulder, and started down the rickety stairs.\n\nThere was a little light in the sky. Five minutes later, it was full daylight, which should have been a signal for the workers to start for their jobs. But today they were drifting out unhappily, as if already sure there would be no jobs by nightfall.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private.\"", "start_byte": 146954, "end_byte": 147181, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 821.8849926757813, "cut_end_time": 837.3300551757812, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "A few stared at Gordon and his burden, but most of them didn't even look up. The two men trudged along silently.\n\n\"Prisoner,\" he announced crisply to the guard, but there was no protest this time. They went through, and he was lucky enough to locate a broken-down tricycle cab.\n\nMother Corey let them in, without flickering an eyelash as he saw his granddaughter. Bruce Gordon dropped her onto her legs. \"Behave yourself,\" he warned her as he took off his helmet, and then unfastened hers.\n\nMother Corey chuckled. <|quote_start|>\"Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nInside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. \"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"\n\n\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,\" Gordon tried to explain. \"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"", "start_byte": 147331, "end_byte": 147399, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 849.0250219726563, "cut_end_time": 853.2000844726563, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey let them in, without flickering an eyelash as he saw his granddaughter. Bruce Gordon dropped her onto her legs. \"Behave yourself,\" he warned her as he took off his helmet, and then unfastened hers.\n\nMother Corey chuckled. \"Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private.\"\n\nInside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. <|quote_start|>\"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,\" Gordon tried to explain. \"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,", "start_byte": 147401, "end_byte": 147436, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 854.6750268554688, "cut_end_time": 856.3800893554687, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\"Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private.\"\n\nInside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. \"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon tried to explain. \"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"tried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "explain": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"", "start_byte": 147463, "end_byte": 147641, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 858.7050073242187, "cut_end_time": 870.2800698242188, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "\"Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private.\"\n\nInside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. \"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"\n\n\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,\" Gordon tried to explain. <|quote_start|>\"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"\n\n\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\" Mother Corey stated flatly. \"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"tried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "explain": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"", "start_byte": 147643, "end_byte": 147845, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 871.135009765625, "cut_end_time": 885.630072265625, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. \"Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber.\"\n\n\"I want her out of my hair, Mother,\" Gordon tried to explain. \"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"\n\n\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\" Mother Corey stated flatly. \"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"", "start_byte": 147847, "end_byte": 147954, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 887.1050219726562, "cut_end_time": 893.3000844726563, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\" Gordon tried to explain. \"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\" Mother Corey stated flatly. \"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,", "start_byte": 147956, "end_byte": 147995, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 894.5150219726563, "cut_end_time": 896.8100844726563, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey stated flatly. \"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "flatly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"", "start_byte": 148025, "end_byte": 148129, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 900.1449926757813, "cut_end_time": 906.8200551757812, "narration": {"text": "Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 838.564990234375, "cut_end_time": 848.470115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter.\"\n\n\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"\n\n\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\" Mother Corey stated flatly. <|quote_start|>\"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n\"Very convenient,\" the old man said. \"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"stated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "flatly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"", "start_byte": 148242, "end_byte": 148293, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 915.90501953125, "cut_end_time": 918.77001953125, "narration": {"text": "Gordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said.", "cut_start_time": 908.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 912.5001127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her.\"\n\n\"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant.\"\n\n\"I run a respectable house now, Gordon,\" Mother Corey stated flatly. \"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. <|quote_start|>\"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n\"Very convenient,\" the old man said. \"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"Very convenient,", "start_byte": 148495, "end_byte": 148512, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 935.0649755859375, "cut_end_time": 936.1400380859375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said.", "cut_start_time": 908.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 912.5001127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "\"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Very convenient,\"<|quote_end|> the old man said. \"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.\n\nMother Corey listened attentively. \"Rich, but not very imaginative,\" he said thoughtfully. \"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"", "start_byte": 148532, "end_byte": 148692, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 938.9049902343751, "cut_end_time": 948.6801152343751, "narration": {"text": "Gordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said.", "cut_start_time": 908.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 912.5001127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "\"What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em.\"\n\nGordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. \"All right, Mother,\" he said finally. \"How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?\"\n\nIzzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n\"Very convenient,\" the old man said. <|quote_start|>\"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.\n\nMother Corey listened attentively. \"Rich, but not very imaginative,\" he said thoughtfully. \"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"\n\nAs the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. \"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"Rich, but not very imaginative,", "start_byte": 148789, "end_byte": 148821, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 956.9749877929688, "cut_end_time": 959.1401127929688, "narration": {"text": "As the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch.", "cut_start_time": 967.395, "cut_end_time": 971.1200625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "Izzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n\"Very convenient,\" the old man said. \"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.\n\nMother Corey listened attentively. <|quote_start|>\"Rich, but not very imaginative,\"<|quote_end|> he said thoughtfully. \"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"\n\nAs the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. \"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"\n\nHer face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"", "start_byte": 148845, "end_byte": 148932, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 961.3849829101563, "cut_end_time": 966.4800454101563, "narration": {"text": "As the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch.", "cut_start_time": 967.395, "cut_end_time": 971.1200625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "Izzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.\n\n\"Very convenient,\" the old man said. \"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.\n\nMother Corey listened attentively. \"Rich, but not very imaginative,\" he said thoughtfully. <|quote_start|>\"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nAs the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. \"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"\n\nHer face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. \"So romantic,\" she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thoughtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"", "start_byte": 149028, "end_byte": 149200, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 973.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 985.0500356445312, "narration": {"text": "Her face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him.", "cut_start_time": 986.1749975585938, "cut_end_time": 992.1300600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "\"The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married.\"\n\n\"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- \" Sheila began.\n\nMother Corey listened attentively. \"Rich, but not very imaginative,\" he said thoughtfully. \"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"\n\nAs the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. <|quote_start|>\"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHer face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. \"So romantic,\" she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"\n\n\"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?\"\n\nShe looked at him a long time in silence, and there was surprise in her eyes.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\"So romantic,", "start_byte": 149290, "end_byte": 149303, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 992.54498046875, "cut_end_time": 993.86010546875, "narration": {"text": "Her face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him.", "cut_start_time": 986.1749975585938, "cut_end_time": 992.1300600585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "\"But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences.\"\n\nAs the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. \"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"\n\nHer face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. <|quote_start|>\"So romantic,\"<|quote_end|> she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"\n\n\"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?\"\n\nShe looked at him a long time in silence, and there was surprise in her eyes. \"You'd do it! You really would.... All right; I'll sign your damned papers!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?\"", "start_byte": 149366, "end_byte": 149569, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1001.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1015.4800405273438, "narration": {"text": " she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"", "cut_start_time": 993.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 999.490009765625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "As the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. \"Shut up!\" he told her. \"This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will.\"\n\nHer face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. \"So romantic,\" she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe looked at him a long time in silence, and there was surprise in her eyes. \"You'd do it! You really would.... All right; I'll sign your damned papers!\"\n\nTen minutes later, he stood in what was now a connecting double room, watching Mother Corey nail up the hall door to the room that was to be hers. There were no windows here, and his own room had an excellent lock on it already -- one he'd put on himself. Izzy came back as Mother Corey finished the door and began knocking a small panel out of the connecting door. The old man was surprisingly adept with his hands as he fitted hinges and a catch to the panel, and re-installed it so that Sheila could swing it open.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "\"You'd do it! You really would.... All right; I'll sign your damned papers!\"", "start_byte": 149649, "end_byte": 149725, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1022.1549829101563, "cut_end_time": 1028.2600454101562, "narration": {"text": " he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.", "cut_start_time": 1079.7249414062499, "cut_end_time": 1087.9400664062498, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "Her face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. \"So romantic,\" she sighed. \"You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- \"\n\n\"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?\"\n\nShe looked at him a long time in silence, and there was surprise in her eyes. <|quote_start|>\"You'd do it! You really would.... All right; I'll sign your damned papers!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTen minutes later, he stood in what was now a connecting double room, watching Mother Corey nail up the hall door to the room that was to be hers. There were no windows here, and his own room had an excellent lock on it already -- one he'd put on himself. Izzy came back as Mother Corey finished the door and began knocking a small panel out of the connecting door. The old man was surprisingly adept with his hands as he fitted hinges and a catch to the panel, and re-installed it so that Sheila could swing it open.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\"It's in the mail to the register, along with the twenty credits. Gov'nor, we're about due to report in.\"", "start_byte": 150276, "end_byte": 150381, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1067.90498046875, "cut_end_time": 1075.4001054687499, "narration": {"text": " he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.", "cut_start_time": 1079.7249414062499, "cut_end_time": 1087.9400664062498, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "Ten minutes later, he stood in what was now a connecting double room, watching Mother Corey nail up the hall door to the room that was to be hers. There were no windows here, and his own room had an excellent lock on it already -- one he'd put on himself. Izzy came back as Mother Corey finished the door and began knocking a small panel out of the connecting door. The old man was surprisingly adept with his hands as he fitted hinges and a catch to the panel, and re-installed it so that Sheila could swing it open.\n\n\"They're married,\" Izzy said. <|quote_start|>\"It's in the mail to the register, along with the twenty credits. Gov'nor, we're about due to report in.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon nodded. \"Be with you in a minute,\" he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.\n\n\"I'll bring you some food tonight. And you may not have a private bath, but it beats the Chicken Coop. Here.\" He handed her the key to the connecting door. \"It's the only key there is.\"\n\nChapter XI\n\nTHE SKY'S THE LIMIT\n\nAll that day, the three rocket ships sat out on the field. Nobody went up to them, and nobody came from them; surprisingly, Wayne had found the courage to ignore them. But rumors were circulating wildly. Bruce Gordon felt his nerves creeping out of his skin and beginning to stand on end to test each breeze for danger.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "\"I'll bring you some food tonight. And you may not have a private bath, but it beats the Chicken Coop. Here.", "start_byte": 150562, "end_byte": 150670, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1089.3350195312498, "cut_end_time": 1096.4200195312499, "narration": {"text": " he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.", "cut_start_time": 1079.7249414062499, "cut_end_time": 1087.9400664062498, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "Ten minutes later, he stood in what was now a connecting double room, watching Mother Corey nail up the hall door to the room that was to be hers. There were no windows here, and his own room had an excellent lock on it already -- one he'd put on himself. Izzy came back as Mother Corey finished the door and began knocking a small panel out of the connecting door. The old man was surprisingly adept with his hands as he fitted hinges and a catch to the panel, and re-installed it so that Sheila could swing it open.\n\n\"They're married,\" Izzy said. \"It's in the mail to the register, along with the twenty credits. Gov'nor, we're about due to report in.\"\n\nGordon nodded. \"Be with you in a minute,\" he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'll bring you some food tonight. And you may not have a private bath, but it beats the Chicken Coop. Here.\"<|quote_end|> He handed her the key to the connecting door. \"It's the only key there is.\"\n\nChapter XI\n\nTHE SKY'S THE LIMIT\n\nAll that day, the three rocket ships sat out on the field. Nobody went up to them, and nobody came from them; surprisingly, Wayne had found the courage to ignore them. But rumors were circulating wildly. Bruce Gordon felt his nerves creeping out of his skin and beginning to stand on end to test each breeze for danger.\n\nWith the credit they'd accumulated in the fund, nearly all their collection was theirs. Gordon went out to do some shopping. He stopped when his money was down to a hundred credits, hardly realizing what he was doing. When he went out, the street was going crazy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"handed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_10_delray_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 61}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..e3fa1cf56f5e2d5e17ab627decd8f1a8d6c2ca36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Banks will be reopened as rapidly as the Legal Government can extend its control, and all deposits previously made will be honored in full.\"", "start_byte": 153075, "end_byte": 153216, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 187.68500549316406, "cut_end_time": 196.30000549316406, "narration": {"text": "That brought a cheer from the crowd, as the sound truck moved on. Gordon saw two of the police officers nearby fingering their badges thoughtfully.", "cut_start_time": 197.87499877929687, "cut_end_time": 206.59012377929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"Citizens of Marsport! In order to protect your interests from the proven rapacity of the administration here, Earth has revoked the independent charter of Marsport. The past elections are hereby declared null and void. Your home world has appointed Marcus Gannett as mayor, with Philip Crane as chief of police. Other members of the council will be by appointment until legal elections can be held safely. The Municipal Police Force is disbanded, and the Legal Police Force is now being organized.\n\n\"All police and officers who remain loyal to the legal government will be accepted at their present grade or higher. To those who now leave the illegal Municipal Force and accept their duty with the Legal Force, there will be no question of past conduct. Nor will they suffer financially from the change!\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Banks will be reopened as rapidly as the Legal Government can extend its control, and all deposits previously made will be honored in full.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThat brought a cheer from the crowd, as the sound truck moved on. Gordon saw two of the police officers nearby fingering their badges thoughtfully.\n\nThen another truck rolled into view, and the Mayor's canned voice came over it, panting as if he'd had to rush to make the recording. He began directly:\n\n\"Martians! Earth has declared war on us. She has denied us our right to rule ourselves -- a right guaranteed in our charter. We admit there have been abuses; all young civilizations make mistakes. But we've developed and grown.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Let them bribe us if they like. We're going to win this war.\"", "start_byte": 155037, "end_byte": 155099, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 330.0050146484375, "cut_end_time": 334.37007714843753, "narration": {"text": "Then another truck rolled into view, and the Mayor's canned voice came over it, panting as if he'd had to rush to make the recording. He began directly:", "cut_start_time": 208.11500427246094, "cut_end_time": 217.93006677246092, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "\"Fellow Martians, they aren't going to bribe us into that! Mars has had enough. I declare us to be in a state of revolution. And since they have chosen the weapons, I declare our loyal and functioning Municipal Police Force to be our army. Any man who deserts will be considered a traitor. But any man who sticks will be rewarded more than he ever expected. We're going to protect our freedom.\n\n\"Let them open their banks -- our banks -- again. And when they have established your accounts, go in and collect the money! If they give it to you, Mars is that much richer. If they don't, you'll know they're lying.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let them bribe us if they like. We're going to win this war.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon felt the crowd's reaction twist again, and he had to admit that Wayne had played his cards well.\n\nBut it didn't make the question of where he belonged, or what he should do, any easier. He waited until the crowd had thinned out a little and began heading toward Corey's, with Izzy moving along silently beside him, carrying half the packages.\n\nHe remembered the promise of forgiveness for all sins on joining the new Legal Force; but he'd read enough history to know that it was fine -- as long as the struggle continued. Afterwards, promises grew dim....", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"", "start_byte": 156578, "end_byte": 156673, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 438.7650024414063, "cut_end_time": 445.87006494140627, "narration": {"text": "He had no use for the present administration, but Earth had no right to take over without a formal investigation, and a chance for the people to state their choice.", "cut_start_time": 374.67501342773437, "cut_end_time": 384.3700134277344, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "He was still in a brown study as he took the bundles from Izzy and dropped them on his bed. Izzy went out, and Gordon stood staring at the wall. Trench? Or the new Commissioner Crane? If Earth should win -- and they had most of the power, after all -- and Bruce Gordon had fought against Security, the mines of Mercury were waiting.\n\nHe picked up the stuff from his bed and started to sweep it aside before he lay down. Then he remembered at last; he knocked on the panel, until it finally opened a crack.\n\n\"Here,\" he told her. <|quote_start|>\"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. \"Water! Two gallons!\"\n\n\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\" The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. \"Detergent. The whole works.\"\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. \"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Water! Two gallons!\"", "start_byte": 156755, "end_byte": 156776, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 454.57500732421875, "cut_end_time": 456.2900073242188, "narration": {"text": " The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts.", "cut_start_time": 460.59498779296877, "cut_end_time": 467.33011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "He was still in a brown study as he took the bundles from Izzy and dropped them on his bed. Izzy went out, and Gordon stood staring at the wall. Trench? Or the new Commissioner Crane? If Earth should win -- and they had most of the power, after all -- and Bruce Gordon had fought against Security, the mines of Mercury were waiting.\n\nHe picked up the stuff from his bed and started to sweep it aside before he lay down. Then he remembered at last; he knocked on the panel, until it finally opened a crack.\n\n\"Here,\" he told her. \"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"\n\nShe took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. <|quote_start|>\"Water! Two gallons!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\" The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. \"Detergent. The whole works.\"\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. \"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"\n\n\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather", "narrative_information_pred": {"gasped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.", "start_byte": 156778, "end_byte": 156818, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 457.1949877929688, "cut_end_time": 459.2000502929688, "narration": {"text": " The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts.", "cut_start_time": 460.59498779296877, "cut_end_time": 467.33011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "He was still in a brown study as he took the bundles from Izzy and dropped them on his bed. Izzy went out, and Gordon stood staring at the wall. Trench? Or the new Commissioner Crane? If Earth should win -- and they had most of the power, after all -- and Bruce Gordon had fought against Security, the mines of Mercury were waiting.\n\nHe picked up the stuff from his bed and started to sweep it aside before he lay down. Then he remembered at last; he knocked on the panel, until it finally opened a crack.\n\n\"Here,\" he told her. \"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"\n\nShe took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. \"Water! Two gallons!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\"<|quote_end|> The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. \"Detergent. The whole works.\"\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. \"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"\n\n\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather,\" he answered. \"It wasn't that.\" The panel slammed shut.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Detergent. The whole works.\"", "start_byte": 156934, "end_byte": 156963, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 467.81500122070315, "cut_end_time": 469.67000122070317, "narration": {"text": " The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts.", "cut_start_time": 460.59498779296877, "cut_end_time": 467.33011279296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "He picked up the stuff from his bed and started to sweep it aside before he lay down. Then he remembered at last; he knocked on the panel, until it finally opened a crack.\n\n\"Here,\" he told her. \"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"\n\nShe took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. \"Water! Two gallons!\"\n\n\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\" The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. <|quote_start|>\"Detergent. The whole works.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. \"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"\n\n\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather,\" he answered. \"It wasn't that.\" The panel slammed shut.\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"", "start_byte": 157041, "end_byte": 157153, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 477.795, "cut_end_time": 484.13, "narration": {"text": "He still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.", "cut_start_time": 494.99501220703127, "cut_end_time": 504.4800747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed.\"\n\nShe took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. \"Water! Two gallons!\"\n\n\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\" The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. \"Detergent. The whole works.\"\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. <|quote_start|>\"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather,\" he answered. \"It wasn't that.\" The panel slammed shut.\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.\n\nGordon fished into the pocket of his uniform for paper and a pencil to leave a note in case Izzy came back. His fingers found the half notebook cover instead. He drew it out, scowling at it, and started to crumple it. Then he stopped, staring at the piece of imitation leather and paper that wouldn't bend.", "narrative_information_pred": {"hesitated": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather,", "start_byte": 157155, "end_byte": 157206, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 485.8849975585938, "cut_end_time": 488.62006005859377, "narration": {"text": "He still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.", "cut_start_time": 494.99501220703127, "cut_end_time": 504.4800747070313, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "She took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. \"Water! Two gallons!\"\n\n\"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub.\" The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. \"Detergent. The whole works.\"\n\nShe hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. \"I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather,\"<|quote_end|> he answered. \"It wasn't that.\" The panel slammed shut.\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.\n\nGordon fished into the pocket of his uniform for paper and a pencil to leave a note in case Izzy came back. His fingers found the half notebook cover instead. He drew it out, scowling at it, and started to crumple it. Then he stopped, staring at the piece of imitation leather and paper that wouldn't bend.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"This will identify the bearer, BRUCE IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security, empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of this office.", "start_byte": 158059, "end_byte": 158247, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 554.94498046875, "cut_end_time": 568.9300429687501, "narration": {"text": "His fingers were still stiff as he began tearing off the thin covering with his knife; the paper backing peeled away easily.", "cut_start_time": 528.4050024414063, "cut_end_time": 536.1800024414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "Gordon fished into the pocket of his uniform for paper and a pencil to leave a note in case Izzy came back. His fingers found the half notebook cover instead. He drew it out, scowling at it, and started to crumple it. Then he stopped, staring at the piece of imitation leather and paper that wouldn't bend.\n\nHis fingers were still stiff as he began tearing off the thin covering with his knife; the paper backing peeled away easily.\n\nUnder it lay a thin metal plate that glowed faintly even in the dim light of Izzy's room! Gordon nearly dropped it. He'd seen such an identification plate once before.\n\nThe printing on it leaped at him: <|quote_start|>\"This will identify the bearer, BRUCE IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security, empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of this office.\"<|quote_end|> The printing in capitals was obviously done by hand, but with the same catalytic \"ink\" as the rest of the badge. Murdoch must have prepared it, hidden it in the notebook, then died before the secret could be revealed.\n\nA knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.\n\n\"You've got a visitor -- outside,\" he announced. \"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"leaped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"You've got a visitor -- outside,", "start_byte": 158619, "end_byte": 158652, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 595.5450170898438, "cut_end_time": 597.0600795898438, "narration": {"text": "A knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.", "cut_start_time": 584.93498046875, "cut_end_time": 594.63010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"This will identify the bearer, BRUCE IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security, empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of this office.\" The printing in capitals was obviously done by hand, but with the same catalytic \"ink\" as the rest of the badge. Murdoch must have prepared it, hidden it in the notebook, then died before the secret could be revealed.\n\nA knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You've got a visitor -- outside,\"<|quote_end|> he announced. \"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"\n\nGordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. \"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. \"All right,\" he said, when the coffee began waking him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"", "start_byte": 158668, "end_byte": 158774, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 598.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 605.3501201171875, "narration": {"text": "A knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.", "cut_start_time": 584.93498046875, "cut_end_time": 594.63010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"This will identify the bearer, BRUCE IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security, empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of this office.\" The printing in capitals was obviously done by hand, but with the same catalytic \"ink\" as the rest of the badge. Murdoch must have prepared it, hidden it in the notebook, then died before the secret could be revealed.\n\nA knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.\n\n\"You've got a visitor -- outside,\" he announced. <|quote_start|>\"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. \"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. \"All right,\" he said, when the coffee began waking him. \"What's the angle?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"announced": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"", "start_byte": 158917, "end_byte": 158976, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 615.804970703125, "cut_end_time": 619.990033203125, "narration": {"text": "Gordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform.", "cut_start_time": 606.80501953125, "cut_end_time": 615.3200195312501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "A knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.\n\n\"You've got a visitor -- outside,\" he announced. \"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"\n\nGordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. <|quote_start|>\"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. \"All right,\" he said, when the coffee began waking him. \"What's the angle?\"\n\nTrench dropped the eyes that had been boring into him. \"I'll have to trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or I can't depend on anyone being loyal.\"\n\nDuring the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne, Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces already controlled about half the city.", "narrative_information_pred": {"smiled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"What's the angle?\"", "start_byte": 159193, "end_byte": 159212, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 633.8449755859375, "cut_end_time": 634.8801005859375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block.", "cut_start_time": 621.1849877929687, "cut_end_time": 629.6701127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!\"\n\nGordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. \"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. \"All right,\" he said, when the coffee began waking him. <|quote_start|>\"What's the angle?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench dropped the eyes that had been boring into him. \"I'll have to trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or I can't depend on anyone being loyal.\"\n\nDuring the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne, Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces already controlled about half the city.\n\n\"So?\" Gordon asked. He could have told Trench that the fund was good-enough reason for most police deserting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"I'll have to trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or I can't depend on anyone being loyal.\"", "start_byte": 159269, "end_byte": 159393, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 640.1049926757813, "cut_end_time": 649.5400551757813, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block.", "cut_start_time": 621.1849877929687, "cut_end_time": 629.6701127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Gordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. \"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. \"All right,\" he said, when the coffee began waking him. \"What's the angle?\"\n\nTrench dropped the eyes that had been boring into him. <|quote_start|>\"I'll have to trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or I can't depend on anyone being loyal.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nDuring the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne, Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces already controlled about half the city.\n\n\"So?\" Gordon asked. He could have told Trench that the fund was good-enough reason for most police deserting.\n\nTrench put his coffee down and yelled for more. It was obvious he'd spent the night without sleep.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"So we're going to need men with guts. Gordon, you had training under Murdoch -- who knew his business. And you aren't a coward, as most of these fat fools are. I've got a proposition, straight from Wayne.\"", "start_byte": 159863, "end_byte": 160069, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 682.0750146484376, "cut_end_time": 695.8300146484376, "narration": {"text": "Trench put his coffee down and yelled for more. It was obvious he'd spent the night without sleep.", "cut_start_time": 675.2649877929688, "cut_end_time": 681.0401127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "During the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne, Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces already controlled about half the city.\n\n\"So?\" Gordon asked. He could have told Trench that the fund was good-enough reason for most police deserting.\n\nTrench put his coffee down and yelled for more. It was obvious he'd spent the night without sleep. <|quote_start|>\"So we're going to need men with guts. Gordon, you had training under Murdoch -- who knew his business. And you aren't a coward, as most of these fat fools are. I've got a proposition, straight from Wayne.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I'm listening.\"\n\n\"Here.\" Trench threw across a platinum badge. \"Take that -- captain at large -- and conscript any of the Municipal Force you want, up to a hundred. Pick out any place you want, train them to handle those damned Legals the way Murdoch handled the Stonewall boys. In return, the sky's the limit. Name your own salary, once you've done the job. And no kickbacks, either!\"\n\nGordon picked up the badge slowly and buckled it on, while a grim, satisfied smile spread over Trench's features. The problem seemed to have been solved. Gordon should have been satisfied, but he felt like Judas picking up the thirty pieces of silver. He tried to swallow them with the dregs of his coffee, and they stuck in his throat.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"We're in enemy territory,", "start_byte": 160965, "end_byte": 160991, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 765.275, "cut_end_time": 766.8600625, "narration": {"text": "A hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by.", "cut_start_time": 757.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 764.9500170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "Gordon picked up the badge slowly and buckled it on, while a grim, satisfied smile spread over Trench's features. The problem seemed to have been solved. Gordon should have been satisfied, but he felt like Judas picking up the thirty pieces of silver. He tried to swallow them with the dregs of his coffee, and they stuck in his throat.\n\nComes the revolution and we'll all eat strawberries and scream!\n\nA hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by. <|quote_start|>\"We're in enemy territory,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat.\"\n\n\"Then you'd better look again,\" Gordon told him. He'd gone to the door and was peering out. Up the narrow little street was rolling a group of about seventy Municipal police and half a dozen small trucks. The men were wearing guns. And up the street a man in bright green uniform was pounding his fist up and down in emphasis as he called in over the precinct box.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat.\"", "start_byte": 161002, "end_byte": 161270, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 767.7849804687501, "cut_end_time": 782.60004296875, "narration": {"text": "A hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by.", "cut_start_time": 757.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 764.9500170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Gordon picked up the badge slowly and buckled it on, while a grim, satisfied smile spread over Trench's features. The problem seemed to have been solved. Gordon should have been satisfied, but he felt like Judas picking up the thirty pieces of silver. He tried to swallow them with the dregs of his coffee, and they stuck in his throat.\n\nComes the revolution and we'll all eat strawberries and scream!\n\nA hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by. \"We're in enemy territory,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Then you'd better look again,\" Gordon told him. He'd gone to the door and was peering out. Up the narrow little street was rolling a group of about seventy Municipal police and half a dozen small trucks. The men were wearing guns. And up the street a man in bright green uniform was pounding his fist up and down in emphasis as he called in over the precinct box.\n\n\"The idiot!\" Trench grabbed Gordon and spun out, running toward the advancing men. \"We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Then you'd better look again,", "start_byte": 161272, "end_byte": 161302, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 784.1049853515625, "cut_end_time": 785.3400478515625, "narration": {"text": "A hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by.", "cut_start_time": 757.5550170898438, "cut_end_time": 764.9500170898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "Comes the revolution and we'll all eat strawberries and scream!\n\nA hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by. \"We're in enemy territory,\" he said. \"The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then you'd better look again,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon told him. He'd gone to the door and was peering out. Up the narrow little street was rolling a group of about seventy Municipal police and half a dozen small trucks. The men were wearing guns. And up the street a man in bright green uniform was pounding his fist up and down in emphasis as he called in over the precinct box.\n\n\"The idiot!\" Trench grabbed Gordon and spun out, running toward the advancing men. \"We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix.\"", "start_byte": 161721, "end_byte": 161851, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 815.4949951171875, "cut_end_time": 824.9001201171875, "narration": {"text": " Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...", "cut_start_time": 844.975, "cut_end_time": 851.5100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat.\"\n\n\"Then you'd better look again,\" Gordon told him. He'd gone to the door and was peering out. Up the narrow little street was rolling a group of about seventy Municipal police and half a dozen small trucks. The men were wearing guns. And up the street a man in bright green uniform was pounding his fist up and down in emphasis as he called in over the precinct box.\n\n\"The idiot!\" Trench grabbed Gordon and spun out, running toward the advancing men. <|quote_start|>\"We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench's system made some sense, and this business of marching as to war made none at all. Gordon grabbed the phone from under the dash. A sleepy voice answered to say that Commissioner Arliss and Mayor Wayne were sleeping. They'd had a hard night, and...\n\n\"Damn it, there's a rebellion going on!\" Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...\n\nTrench was arguing frantically with the pompous figure of Captain Hendrix. From the other end of the street, a group of small cars appeared; and men began piling out, all in shiny green.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grabbed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "spun": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Damn it, there's a rebellion going on!", "start_byte": 162110, "end_byte": 162149, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 843.0950268554687, "cut_end_time": 845.1000268554687, "narration": {"text": " Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...", "cut_start_time": 844.975, "cut_end_time": 851.5100625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"The idiot!\" Trench grabbed Gordon and spun out, running toward the advancing men. \"We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix.\"\n\nTrench's system made some sense, and this business of marching as to war made none at all. Gordon grabbed the phone from under the dash. A sleepy voice answered to say that Commissioner Arliss and Mayor Wayne were sleeping. They'd had a hard night, and...\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Damn it, there's a rebellion going on!\"<|quote_end|> Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...\n\nTrench was arguing frantically with the pompous figure of Captain Hendrix. From the other end of the street, a group of small cars appeared; and men began piling out, all in shiny green.\n\n\"Who's this?\" the phone asked. When Gordon identified himself, there was a snort of disgust. \"Yes, yes, congratulations. Trench was quite right; you're fully authorized. Did you call me out of bed just to check on that, young man?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Yes, yes, congratulations. Trench was quite right; you're fully authorized. Did you call me out of bed just to check on that, young man?\"", "start_byte": 162513, "end_byte": 162651, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 871.7050292968751, "cut_end_time": 880.440029296875, "narration": {"text": "\"No, I -- \" Then he hung up. Hendrix had dropped to his knees and fired before Trench could knock the gun from his hands.", "cut_start_time": 881.494990234375, "cut_end_time": 889.140052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Trench's system made some sense, and this business of marching as to war made none at all. Gordon grabbed the phone from under the dash. A sleepy voice answered to say that Commissioner Arliss and Mayor Wayne were sleeping. They'd had a hard night, and...\n\n\"Damn it, there's a rebellion going on!\" Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...\n\nTrench was arguing frantically with the pompous figure of Captain Hendrix. From the other end of the street, a group of small cars appeared; and men began piling out, all in shiny green.\n\n\"Who's this?\" the phone asked. When Gordon identified himself, there was a snort of disgust. <|quote_start|>\"Yes, yes, congratulations. Trench was quite right; you're fully authorized. Did you call me out of bed just to check on that, young man?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"No, I -- \" Then he hung up. Hendrix had dropped to his knees and fired before Trench could knock the gun from his hands.\n\nThere was no answering fire. The Legals simply came boiling down the street, equipped with long pikes with lead-weighted ends. And Hendrix came charging up, his men straggling behind him. Gordon was squarely in the middle. He considered staying in Trench's car and letting it roll past him. But he'd taken the damned badge.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_11_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 30}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..ff35c129c8ce87696b40ef25b6f40805052e5c7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"", "start_byte": 165502, "end_byte": 165648, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 64.12500045776368, "cut_end_time": 71.82000045776367, "narration": {"text": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.", "cut_start_time": 42.2049983215332, "cut_end_time": 50.77006082153321, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "Something cold and damp against his forehead brought Gordon part way out of his unconsciousness finally. There was the softness of a bed under him and the bitter aftertaste of Migrainol on his tongue. He tried to move, but nothing happened. The drug killed pain, but only at the expense of a temporary paralysis of all voluntary motion.\n\nThere was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.\n\nSteps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,\" Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed. \"Had to be big to fit me.\"\n\n\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?\" Izzy asked.\n\nThere was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together. \"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,", "start_byte": 165650, "end_byte": 165691, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 72.9649966430664, "cut_end_time": 75.1701216430664, "narration": {"text": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.", "cut_start_time": 42.2049983215332, "cut_end_time": 50.77006082153321, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Something cold and damp against his forehead brought Gordon part way out of his unconsciousness finally. There was the softness of a bed under him and the bitter aftertaste of Migrainol on his tongue. He tried to move, but nothing happened. The drug killed pain, but only at the expense of a temporary paralysis of all voluntary motion.\n\nThere was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.\n\nSteps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.\n\n\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed. \"Had to be big to fit me.\"\n\n\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?\" Izzy asked.\n\nThere was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together. \"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Had to be big to fit me.\"", "start_byte": 165731, "end_byte": 165757, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 78.47499877929687, "cut_end_time": 80.14006127929687, "narration": {"text": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.", "cut_start_time": 42.2049983215332, "cut_end_time": 50.77006082153321, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.\n\nSteps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.\n\n\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"\n\n\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,\" Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed. <|quote_start|>\"Had to be big to fit me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?\" Izzy asked.\n\nThere was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together. \"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?", "start_byte": 165759, "end_byte": 165793, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 81.05499938964843, "cut_end_time": 82.82012438964843, "narration": {"text": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.", "cut_start_time": 42.2049983215332, "cut_end_time": 50.77006082153321, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.\n\nSteps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.\n\n\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"\n\n\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,\" Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed. \"Had to be big to fit me.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?\"<|quote_end|> Izzy asked.\n\nThere was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together. \"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"", "start_byte": 166350, "end_byte": 166532, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 123.13499725341796, "cut_end_time": 134.67005975341797, "narration": {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"\n\n\"Lay off, Mother,\" Izzy said sharply. <|quote_start|>\"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,\" Mother Corey observed. \"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"\n\n\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled. \"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"\n\nThe steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,", "start_byte": 166534, "end_byte": 166577, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 135.75499389648436, "cut_end_time": 138.01011889648436, "narration": {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"\n\n\"Lay off, Mother,\" Izzy said sharply. \"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey observed. \"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"\n\n\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled. \"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"\n\nThe steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"", "start_byte": 166602, "end_byte": 166634, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 139.78500610351563, "cut_end_time": 141.4700686035156, "narration": {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"\n\n\"Lay off, Mother,\" Izzy said sharply. \"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"\n\n\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,\" Mother Corey observed. <|quote_start|>\"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled. \"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"\n\nThe steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!", "narrative_information_pred": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"", "start_byte": 166636, "end_byte": 166762, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 142.79500427246094, "cut_end_time": 151.29006677246093, "narration": {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"\n\n\"Lay off, Mother,\" Izzy said sharply. \"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"\n\n\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,\" Mother Corey observed. \"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMother Corey chuckled. \"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"\n\nThe steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!\n\nHe heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"", "start_byte": 166787, "end_byte": 166854, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 154.90499938964842, "cut_end_time": 158.84006188964844, "narration": {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"\n\n\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,\" Mother Corey observed. \"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"\n\n\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"\n\nMother Corey chuckled. <|quote_start|>\"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!\n\nHe heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.\n\nFingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"", "start_byte": 167840, "end_byte": 167865, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 236.84499755859375, "cut_end_time": 239.30012255859376, "narration": {"text": "She bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain.", "cut_start_time": 227.99500244140626, "cut_end_time": 235.53000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Fingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.\n\nHer eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her. \"Hi, Cuddles,\" he said flatly.\n\nShe bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain. <|quote_start|>\"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"How long have I been like this?\"\n\n\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.\" She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. \"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.", "narrative_information_pred": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "uncertain": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"How long have I been like this?\"", "start_byte": 167867, "end_byte": 167900, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 239.33500061035156, "cut_end_time": 242.85006311035156, "narration": {"text": "She bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain.", "cut_start_time": 227.99500244140626, "cut_end_time": 235.53000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "Fingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.\n\nHer eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her. \"Hi, Cuddles,\" he said flatly.\n\nShe bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain. \"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"How long have I been like this?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.\" She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. \"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.", "narrative_information_pred": {"uncertain": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.", "start_byte": 167902, "end_byte": 167948, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 243.76500732421874, "cut_end_time": 248.06000732421873, "narration": {"text": "She bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain.", "cut_start_time": 227.99500244140626, "cut_end_time": 235.53000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Fingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.\n\nHer eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her. \"Hi, Cuddles,\" he said flatly.\n\nShe bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain. \"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"\n\n\"How long have I been like this?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.\"<|quote_end|> She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. \"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"", "start_byte": 168017, "end_byte": 168110, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 254.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 261.99006738281247, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "Her eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her. \"Hi, Cuddles,\" he said flatly.\n\nShe bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain. \"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"\n\n\"How long have I been like this?\"\n\n\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.\" She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. <|quote_start|>\"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"\n\n\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"", "start_byte": 168387, "end_byte": 168442, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 289.32500000000005, "cut_end_time": 291.96006250000005, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. \"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. <|quote_start|>\"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. \"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"\n\n\"Because I needed a meal ticket!\" she said harshly. \"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"", "start_byte": 168444, "end_byte": 168488, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 292.75501220703126, "cut_end_time": 295.38001220703126, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\" She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. \"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"\n\n\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. \"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"\n\n\"Because I needed a meal ticket!\" she said harshly. \"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"", "start_byte": 168552, "end_byte": 168600, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 300.5449938964844, "cut_end_time": 303.8601188964844, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"\n\n\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. <|quote_start|>\"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Because I needed a meal ticket!\" she said harshly. \"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.\n\n\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Because I needed a meal ticket!", "start_byte": 168602, "end_byte": 168634, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 304.75500732421875, "cut_end_time": 306.4200698242188, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"\n\n\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. \"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Because I needed a meal ticket!\"<|quote_end|> she said harshly. \"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.\n\n\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harshly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"", "start_byte": 168654, "end_byte": 168798, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 307.99499267578125, "cut_end_time": 315.8400551757813, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Coffee.\" He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.\n\n\"Why'd you come back?\" he asked suddenly. \"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"\n\n\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"\n\nHe couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. \"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"\n\n\"Because I needed a meal ticket!\" she said harshly. <|quote_start|>\"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.\n\n\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"\n\n\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.\" She grimaced. \"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harshly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.", "start_byte": 169127, "end_byte": 169182, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 343.1950085449219, "cut_end_time": 347.1800085449219, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.\n\n\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.\"<|quote_end|> She grimaced. \"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"\n\nHe'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed. \"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking..", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"", "start_byte": 169198, "end_byte": 169312, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 349.50499633789065, "cut_end_time": 358.32005883789066, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"\n\nIt rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.\n\n\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"\n\n\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.\" She grimaced. <|quote_start|>\"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed. \"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking...\" She went into the other room and shut the door. There was the sound of the lock being worked, and then silence.\n\nHe stared at the door foolishly, swearing at all women; then grimaced and turned back to the chair where his uniform still lay. He could stay here fighting with her, or he could face his troubles on the outside. The whole thing hinged on Trench; unless Trench had shown the badge to others, his problem boiled down to a single man.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"", "start_byte": 169350, "end_byte": 169436, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 362.23500122070317, "cut_end_time": 367.32000122070315, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"\n\n\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.\" She grimaced. \"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"\n\nHe'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed. <|quote_start|>\"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe shook her head. \"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking...\" She went into the other room and shut the door. There was the sound of the lock being worked, and then silence.\n\nHe stared at the door foolishly, swearing at all women; then grimaced and turned back to the chair where his uniform still lay. He could stay here fighting with her, or he could face his troubles on the outside. The whole thing hinged on Trench; unless Trench had shown the badge to others, his problem boiled down to a single man.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking...", "start_byte": 169458, "end_byte": 169594, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 371.0349975585938, "cut_end_time": 380.64006005859375, "narration": {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"You're a fool!\" he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"\n\n\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.\" She grimaced. \"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"\n\nHe'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed. \"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. <|quote_start|>\"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking...\"<|quote_end|> She went into the other room and shut the door. There was the sound of the lock being worked, and then silence.\n\nHe stared at the door foolishly, swearing at all women; then grimaced and turned back to the chair where his uniform still lay. He could stay here fighting with her, or he could face his troubles on the outside. The whole thing hinged on Trench; unless Trench had shown the badge to others, his problem boiled down to a single man.\n\nGordon found one tablet of painkiller left in the bottle and swallowed it with the dregs of the coffee. He made sure his knife was in its sheath and that the gun at his side was loaded. He found his police club, checked the loop at its end, and slipped it onto his wrist.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Special prisoners,", "start_byte": 173989, "end_byte": 174008, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 695.444990234375, "cut_end_time": 696.620115234375, "narration": {"text": "He stripped out the money -- and finally put half of it back into the wallet and dropped it beside the hoodlum. Even in jail, a man had to have smokes.", "cut_start_time": 648.3449877929688, "cut_end_time": 657.3401127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "He stuck to the alleys, not using the headlights, after he had locked the two in and started the electric motor. He had no clear idea of how the battles were going, but it looked as if the Seventh Precinct was still in Municipal hands.\n\nThere was no one at the side entrance to Seventh Precinct Headquarters and only two corporals on duty inside; the rest were probably out fighting the Legals, or worrying about it. One of the corporals started to stand up and halt him, but wavered at the sight of the captain's star that was still pinned to his uniform.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Special prisoners,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon told him sharply. \"I've got to get information to Trench -- and in private!\"\n\nThe corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.\n\nThere was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. \"Outside!\" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"I've got to get information to Trench -- and in private!\"", "start_byte": 174035, "end_byte": 174093, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 698.3550170898437, "cut_end_time": 701.9000170898438, "narration": {"text": "He stripped out the money -- and finally put half of it back into the wallet and dropped it beside the hoodlum. Even in jail, a man had to have smokes.", "cut_start_time": 648.3449877929688, "cut_end_time": 657.3401127929687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "He stuck to the alleys, not using the headlights, after he had locked the two in and started the electric motor. He had no clear idea of how the battles were going, but it looked as if the Seventh Precinct was still in Municipal hands.\n\nThere was no one at the side entrance to Seventh Precinct Headquarters and only two corporals on duty inside; the rest were probably out fighting the Legals, or worrying about it. One of the corporals started to stand up and halt him, but wavered at the sight of the captain's star that was still pinned to his uniform.\n\n\"Special prisoners,\" Gordon told him sharply. <|quote_start|>\"I've got to get information to Trench -- and in private!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.\n\nThere was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. \"Outside!\" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Oh, it's you, Gordon?\"", "start_byte": 174593, "end_byte": 174616, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 734.8650244140625, "cut_end_time": 736.2300244140625, "narration": {"text": " he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "cut_start_time": 727.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 734.14010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "The corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.\n\nThere was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. \"Outside!\" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down. <|quote_start|>\"Oh, it's you, Gordon?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Where's Captain Trench?\"\n\nThe heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled. \"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.", "narrative_information_pred": {"snapped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Where's Captain Trench?\"", "start_byte": 174618, "end_byte": 174643, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 736.9249975585938, "cut_end_time": 738.2700600585938, "narration": {"text": " he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "cut_start_time": 727.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 734.14010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "The corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.\n\nThere was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. \"Outside!\" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down. \"Oh, it's you, Gordon?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Where's Captain Trench?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled. \"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.\n\n\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you", "narrative_information_pred": {"snapped": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"", "start_byte": 174699, "end_byte": 174973, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 742.73501953125, "cut_end_time": 760.79008203125, "narration": {"text": " he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "cut_start_time": 727.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 734.14010546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "The corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.\n\nThere was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. \"Outside!\" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down. \"Oh, it's you, Gordon?\"\n\n\"Where's Captain Trench?\"\n\nThe heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled. <|quote_start|>\"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.\n\n\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,\" Jurgens said. \"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"\n\nGordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck. \"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,\" he said truthfully enough.\n\nJurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. \"Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,", "start_byte": 175073, "end_byte": 175126, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 768.834990234375, "cut_end_time": 771.540115234375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.", "cut_start_time": 761.86501953125, "cut_end_time": 767.63001953125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"Where's Captain Trench?\"\n\nThe heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled. \"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,\"<|quote_end|> Jurgens said. \"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"\n\nGordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck. \"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,\" he said truthfully enough.\n\nJurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. \"Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"", "start_byte": 175142, "end_byte": 175194, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 772.7049853515625, "cut_end_time": 775.0700478515625, "narration": {"text": "Gordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.", "cut_start_time": 761.86501953125, "cut_end_time": 767.63001953125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.\n\n\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,\" Jurgens said. <|quote_start|>\"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck. \"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,\" he said truthfully enough.\n\nJurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. \"Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- \"\n\nHis voice was perfectly normal, but Gordon saw the hand move suddenly toward the drawer that was half-open. And the cigarette lighter was attached to the other side of the desk.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,", "start_byte": 175278, "end_byte": 175321, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 781.9849755859375, "cut_end_time": 784.0000380859375, "narration": {"text": "But Jurgens was only momentarily out. As Gordon slipped the loop over his wrist again, one of the new captain's hands groped, seeking a button on the edge of the desk.", "cut_start_time": 839.9149804687501, "cut_end_time": 849.6700429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"\n\nGordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.\n\n\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,\" Jurgens said. \"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"\n\nGordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck. <|quote_start|>\"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,\"<|quote_end|> he said truthfully enough.\n\nJurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. \"Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- \"\n\nHis voice was perfectly normal, but Gordon saw the hand move suddenly toward the drawer that was half-open. And the cigarette lighter was attached to the other side of the desk.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "truthfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"Captain Bruce Gordon, with two prisoners -- bodyguards of Captain Jurgens,", "start_byte": 177144, "end_byte": 177219, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 908.575, "cut_end_time": 913.7000625000001, "narration": {"text": "But Jurgens was only momentarily out. As Gordon slipped the loop over his wrist again, one of the new captain's hands groped, seeking a button on the edge of the desk.", "cut_start_time": 839.9149804687501, "cut_end_time": 849.6700429687501, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "It was a full minute before sirens sounded behind him, and Nick the Croop had fast trucks. He spotted the squad car far behind, ducked through a maze of alleys, and lost it for another few precious minutes. Then a barricade lay ahead.\n\nThe truck faltered as it hit the nearly finished obstacle, and Gordon felt his stomach squashing down onto the wheel. He kept his foot to the floor, strewing bits of the barricade behind him, until he was beyond the range of the Legal guns that were firing suddenly. Then he stopped and got out carefully, with his hands up.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Captain Bruce Gordon, with two prisoners -- bodyguards of Captain Jurgens,\"<|quote_end|> he reported to the three men in bright new Legal uniform who were approaching warily. \"How do I sign up with you?\"\n\nChapter XIII\n\nARREST MAYOR WAYNE!\n\nThe Legal forces were shorthanded and eager for recruits. They had struck quickly, according to plans made by experts on Earth, and now controlled about half of Marsport. But it was a sprawling crescent around the central section, harder to handle than the Municipal territory. Bruce Gordon was sworn in at once.\n\nThen he cooled his heels while the florid, paunchy ex-politician Commissioner Crane worried about his rating and repeated how corrupt Mars was and how the collection system was over -- absolutely over. In the end, he was given a captain's pay and the rank of sergeant. As a favor, he was allowed to share a beat with Honest Izzy under Captain Hendrix, who had simply switched sides after losing the morning's battle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"reported": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 37}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6bdec625e9873ff46abb2945d3984f110760f0fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"I knew it, gov'nor -- knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'em give you my beat?\"", "start_byte": 178917, "end_byte": 179021, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 132.4149951171875, "cut_end_time": 139.8401201171875, "narration": {"text": "He found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's. Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform.", "cut_start_time": 123.96500061035155, "cut_end_time": 131.79000061035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He walked back, watching the dull-looking people closing off their homes, as they had done at elections. Here and there, houses had been broken into during the night. There were occasional buzzes of angry conversation that cut off as he approached.\n\nMarsport had learned to hate all cops, and a change of uniform hadn't altered that; instead, the people seemed to resent the loss of the familiar symbol of hatred.\n\nHe found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's. Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform. <|quote_start|>\"I knew it, gov'nor -- knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'em give you my beat?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, to point to Randolph. \"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"\n\n\"You'll be late, Izzy,\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"", "start_byte": 179112, "end_byte": 179239, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 148.1650030517578, "cut_end_time": 157.2100655517578, "narration": {"text": "Gordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.", "cut_start_time": 181.89499755859376, "cut_end_time": 188.38006005859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "Marsport had learned to hate all cops, and a change of uniform hadn't altered that; instead, the people seemed to resent the loss of the familiar symbol of hatred.\n\nHe found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's. Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform. \"I knew it, gov'nor -- knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'em give you my beat?\"\n\nHe seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, to point to Randolph. <|quote_start|>\"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You'll be late, Izzy,\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. \"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"You'll be late, Izzy,", "start_byte": 179241, "end_byte": 179263, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 159.44500122070312, "cut_end_time": 160.6100012207031, "narration": {"text": "Gordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.", "cut_start_time": 181.89499755859376, "cut_end_time": 188.38006005859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "He found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's. Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform. \"I knew it, gov'nor -- knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'em give you my beat?\"\n\nHe seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, to point to Randolph. \"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You'll be late, Izzy,\"<|quote_end|> Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. \"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "quietly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"", "start_byte": 179475, "end_byte": 179545, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 176.57500549316407, "cut_end_time": 180.66000549316405, "narration": {"text": "Gordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.", "cut_start_time": 181.89499755859376, "cut_end_time": 188.38006005859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "He seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, to point to Randolph. \"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"\n\n\"You'll be late, Izzy,\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. <|quote_start|>\"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda,\" he said wearily. \"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!\" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. \"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"\n\nHe got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment.", "narrative_information_pred": {"picked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda,", "start_byte": 179642, "end_byte": 179699, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 189.95499938964844, "cut_end_time": 192.94012438964842, "narration": {"text": "She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse.", "cut_start_time": 287.30500610351567, "cut_end_time": 295.82006860351567, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation.\"\n\n\"You'll be late, Izzy,\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. \"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda,\"<|quote_end|> he said wearily. \"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!\" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. \"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"\n\nHe got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "wearily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!", "start_byte": 179718, "end_byte": 179786, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 194.96500122070313, "cut_end_time": 200.06000122070313, "narration": {"text": "She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse.", "cut_start_time": 287.30500610351567, "cut_end_time": 295.82006860351567, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. \"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda,\" he said wearily. <|quote_start|>\"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!\"<|quote_end|> He drew a small golden band from his little finger. \"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"\n\nHe got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment. \"Food ready in ten minutes", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "wearily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"", "start_byte": 179840, "end_byte": 179946, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 203.88500610351562, "cut_end_time": 211.5500061035156, "narration": {"text": "She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse.", "cut_start_time": 287.30500610351567, "cut_end_time": 295.82006860351567, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\" Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. \"You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth.\"\n\nGordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.\n\n\"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda,\" he said wearily. \"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!\" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. <|quote_start|>\"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment. \"Food ready in ten minutes,\" she told him.\n\nShe'd already been shopping, and had installed the tiny cooking equipment used in half Marsport. There was also a small iron lying beside a pile of his laundered clothes. He dropped onto the bed wearily, then jerked upright as she came over to remove his boots. But there was no mockery on her face -- and oddly, it felt good to him. Maybe her idea of married life was different from his.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "wearily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Food ready in ten minutes,", "start_byte": 180197, "end_byte": 180224, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 233.07499755859374, "cut_end_time": 234.46012255859375, "narration": {"text": "She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse.", "cut_start_time": 287.30500610351567, "cut_end_time": 295.82006860351567, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!\" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. \"My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!\"\n\nHe got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment. <|quote_start|>\"Food ready in ten minutes,\"<|quote_end|> she told him.\n\nShe'd already been shopping, and had installed the tiny cooking equipment used in half Marsport. There was also a small iron lying beside a pile of his laundered clothes. He dropped onto the bed wearily, then jerked upright as she came over to remove his boots. But there was no mockery on her face -- and oddly, it felt good to him. Maybe her idea of married life was different from his.\n\nShe was sanding the dishes and putting them away when he finally remembered the ring. He studied it again, then got up and dropped it beside her. He was surprised as she fumbled it on to see that it fitted -- and more surprised at the sudden realization that she was entitled to it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"I got a duplicate key. Yours is in there,", "start_byte": 181048, "end_byte": 181090, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.6050036621094, "cut_end_time": 299.5900036621094, "narration": {"text": " she said thickly. \"And -- something else. I guess I was going to give it to you anyway. I was afraid someone else might find it -- \"", "cut_start_time": 299.80499267578125, "cut_end_time": 308.4101176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "She'd already been shopping, and had installed the tiny cooking equipment used in half Marsport. There was also a small iron lying beside a pile of his laundered clothes. He dropped onto the bed wearily, then jerked upright as she came over to remove his boots. But there was no mockery on her face -- and oddly, it felt good to him. Maybe her idea of married life was different from his.\n\nShe was sanding the dishes and putting them away when he finally remembered the ring. He studied it again, then got up and dropped it beside her. He was surprised as she fumbled it on to see that it fitted -- and more surprised at the sudden realization that she was entitled to it.\n\nShe studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse. <|quote_start|>\"I got a duplicate key. Yours is in there,\"<|quote_end|> she said thickly. \"And -- something else. I guess I was going to give it to you anyway. I was afraid someone else might find it -- \"\n\nHe cut her off brusquely, his eyes riveted on the Security badge he'd been sure Trench had taken. \"Yeah, I know. Your meal ticket was in danger. Okay, you've done your nightly duty. Now get the hell out of my room, will you?\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe week went on mechanically, while he gradually adjusted to the new angles of being a Legal. The banks were open, and deposits honored, as promised. But it was in the printing-press scrip of Legal currency, useful only through Mayor Gannett's trick Exchanges. Water went up from fourteen credits to eighty credits for a gallon of pure distilled. Other things were worse. Resentment flared, but the scrip was the only money available, and it still bound the people to the new regime.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thickly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Yeah, I know. Your meal ticket was in danger. Okay, you've done your nightly duty. Now get the hell out of my room, will you?\"", "start_byte": 181324, "end_byte": 181451, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 317.4349951171875, "cut_end_time": 325.7000576171875, "narration": {"text": "Izzy had co-operated -- reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince him that it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded.", "cut_start_time": 404.3049951171875, "cut_end_time": 413.10012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse. \"I got a duplicate key. Yours is in there,\" she said thickly. \"And -- something else. I guess I was going to give it to you anyway. I was afraid someone else might find it -- \"\n\nHe cut her off brusquely, his eyes riveted on the Security badge he'd been sure Trench had taken. <|quote_start|>\"Yeah, I know. Your meal ticket was in danger. Okay, you've done your nightly duty. Now get the hell out of my room, will you?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe week went on mechanically, while he gradually adjusted to the new angles of being a Legal. The banks were open, and deposits honored, as promised. But it was in the printing-press scrip of Legal currency, useful only through Mayor Gannett's trick Exchanges. Water went up from fourteen credits to eighty credits for a gallon of pure distilled. Other things were worse. Resentment flared, but the scrip was the only money available, and it still bound the people to the new regime.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "brusquely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"It's a helluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay for protection any old way, then they're gonna get it!\"", "start_byte": 182692, "end_byte": 182824, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 413.8350024414063, "cut_end_time": 420.82006494140626, "narration": {"text": "Izzy had co-operated -- reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince him that it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded.", "cut_start_time": 404.3049951171875, "cut_end_time": 413.10012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "He came home the third evening to find that Sheila had managed to find space for her bunk in his room, cut off by a heavy screen, and had closed the other room to save the rent. It led to some relaxation between them, and they began talking impersonally.\n\nGordon watched for a sign that Trench had passed on his evidence of the murder of Murdoch, but there was none. The pressure of the beat took his mind from it. Looting had stepped up.\n\nIzzy had co-operated -- reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince him that it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded. <|quote_start|>\"It's a helluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay for protection any old way, then they're gonna get it!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey got it. Hoodlums began moving elsewhere, toward easier pickings.\n\nGordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week. \"I told you you had a punched meal ticket,\" he said bitterly.\n\n\"We'll live,\" she answered him. \"I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps.\"\n\nHe could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went to Izzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such small raids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, but actually they were out-and-out looting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"I told you you had a punched meal ticket,", "start_byte": 183007, "end_byte": 183049, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.23499145507816, "cut_end_time": 435.53005395507813, "narration": {"text": "Gordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week.", "cut_start_time": 426.26500000000004, "cut_end_time": 432.51000000000005, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Izzy had co-operated -- reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince him that it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded. \"It's a helluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay for protection any old way, then they're gonna get it!\"\n\nThey got it. Hoodlums began moving elsewhere, toward easier pickings.\n\nGordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week. <|quote_start|>\"I told you you had a punched meal ticket,\"<|quote_end|> he said bitterly.\n\n\"We'll live,\" she answered him. \"I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps.\"\n\nHe could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went to Izzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such small raids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, but actually they were out-and-out looting.\n\nHe came back to find her cleaning up, and shoved her away.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps.\"", "start_byte": 183102, "end_byte": 183176, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 439.7249853515625, "cut_end_time": 445.09011035156254, "narration": {"text": "Gordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week.", "cut_start_time": 426.26500000000004, "cut_end_time": 432.51000000000005, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"It's a helluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay for protection any old way, then they're gonna get it!\"\n\nThey got it. Hoodlums began moving elsewhere, toward easier pickings.\n\nGordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week. \"I told you you had a punched meal ticket,\" he said bitterly.\n\n\"We'll live,\" she answered him. <|quote_start|>\"I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went to Izzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such small raids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, but actually they were out-and-out looting.\n\nHe came back to find her cleaning up, and shoved her away. \"Go to bed. You look beat. I'll sand these.\"\n\nShe started to protest, then let him take over.\n\nThey never made the looting raid. The next morning, they arrived at the Precinct house to find men milling around the bulletin board, buzzing over an announcement there. Apparently, Chief Justice Arliss had broken with the Wayne administration, and the mimeographed form was a legal ruling that Wayne was no longer Mayor, since the charter had been voided. He was charged with inciting a riot, and a warrant had been issued for his arrest.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"Go to bed. You look beat. I'll sand these.\"", "start_byte": 183484, "end_byte": 183528, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 466.6449938964844, "cut_end_time": 470.12011889648437, "narration": {"text": "She started to protest, then let him take over.", "cut_start_time": 471.11500122070316, "cut_end_time": 474.56006372070317, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" he said bitterly.\n\n\"We'll live,\" she answered him. \"I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps.\"\n\nHe could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went to Izzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such small raids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, but actually they were out-and-out looting.\n\nHe came back to find her cleaning up, and shoved her away. <|quote_start|>\"Go to bed. You look beat. I'll sand these.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe started to protest, then let him take over.\n\nThey never made the looting raid. The next morning, they arrived at the Precinct house to find men milling around the bulletin board, buzzing over an announcement there. Apparently, Chief Justice Arliss had broken with the Wayne administration, and the mimeographed form was a legal ruling that Wayne was no longer Mayor, since the charter had been voided. He was charged with inciting a riot, and a warrant had been issued for his arrest.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shoved": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"You all see it. We're going to arrest Wayne. By jingo, they can't say we ain't legal now! Every odd-numbered shield goes from every precinct. Gordon, Isaacs -- you two been talking big about law and order. Here's the warrant. Take it and arrest Wayne!\"", "start_byte": 184076, "end_byte": 184329, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 508.6949890136719, "cut_end_time": 527.6600515136719, "narration": {"text": "Izzy's pock-marked face soured for a second as he stared at Gordon.", "cut_start_time": 559.6450024414063, "cut_end_time": 563.3900024414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "They never made the looting raid. The next morning, they arrived at the Precinct house to find men milling around the bulletin board, buzzing over an announcement there. Apparently, Chief Justice Arliss had broken with the Wayne administration, and the mimeographed form was a legal ruling that Wayne was no longer Mayor, since the charter had been voided. He was charged with inciting a riot, and a warrant had been issued for his arrest.\n\nHendrix appeared finally. \"All right, men,\" he shouted. <|quote_start|>\"You all see it. We're going to arrest Wayne. By jingo, they can't say we ain't legal now! Every odd-numbered shield goes from every precinct. Gordon, Isaacs -- you two been talking big about law and order. Here's the warrant. Take it and arrest Wayne!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt took nearly an hour to get the plans settled, but finally they headed for the trucks that had been arriving. Most of them belonged to Nick the Croop, who had apparently decided the Legals would win.\n\nGordon and Izzy found the lead truck and led the way. They neared the bar where Sheila was working, and Bruce Gordon swore. She was running toward the center of the street, frantically trying to flag him down, and he barely managed to swerve around her. \"Damned fool!\" he muttered.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"The princess? She sure is.\"", "start_byte": 184885, "end_byte": 184913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 563.7549755859375, "cut_end_time": 566.1800380859376, "narration": {"text": "There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.", "cut_start_time": 713.4749877929688, "cut_end_time": 723.0201127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "It took nearly an hour to get the plans settled, but finally they headed for the trucks that had been arriving. Most of them belonged to Nick the Croop, who had apparently decided the Legals would win.\n\nGordon and Izzy found the lead truck and led the way. They neared the bar where Sheila was working, and Bruce Gordon swore. She was running toward the center of the street, frantically trying to flag him down, and he barely managed to swerve around her. \"Damned fool!\" he muttered.\n\nIzzy's pock-marked face soured for a second as he stared at Gordon. <|quote_start|>\"The princess? She sure is.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe crew at the barricade had been alerted, and now began clearing it aside hastily, while others kept up a covering fire against the few Municipals. The trucks wheeled through, and Gordon dropped back to let scout trucks go ahead and pick off any rash enough to head for the call boxes. They couldn't prevent advance warning, but they could delay and minimize it.\n\nThey were near the big Municipal building when they came to the first real opposition, and it was obviously hastily assembled. The scouts took care of most of the trouble, though a few shots pinged against the truck Gordon was driving.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"They'll ruin the dome yet. Why can't they stick to knives?\"", "start_byte": 185555, "end_byte": 185615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 609.2549829101563, "cut_end_time": 613.0500454101563, "narration": {"text": "There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.", "cut_start_time": 713.4749877929688, "cut_end_time": 723.0201127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "The crew at the barricade had been alerted, and now began clearing it aside hastily, while others kept up a covering fire against the few Municipals. The trucks wheeled through, and Gordon dropped back to let scout trucks go ahead and pick off any rash enough to head for the call boxes. They couldn't prevent advance warning, but they could delay and minimize it.\n\nThey were near the big Municipal building when they came to the first real opposition, and it was obviously hastily assembled. The scouts took care of most of the trouble, though a few shots pinged against the truck Gordon was driving.\n\n\"Rifles!\" Izzy commented in disgust. <|quote_start|>\"They'll ruin the dome yet. Why can't they stick to knives?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe was studying a map of the big building, picking their best entrance. Ahead, trucks formed a sort of V formation as they reached the grounds around it and began bulling their way through the groups that were trying to organize a defense. Gordon found his way cleared and shot through, emerging behind the defense and driving at full speed toward the entrance Izzy pointed out.\n\n\"Cut speed! Left sharp!\" Izzy shouted. \"Now, in there!\"\n\nThey sliced into a small tunnel, scraping their sides where it was barely big enough for the truck. Then they reached a dead end, with just room for them to squeeze through the door of the truck and into an entrance marked with a big notice of privacy.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "disgust": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Cut speed! Left sharp!", "start_byte": 185997, "end_byte": 186020, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 640.4550292968751, "cut_end_time": 642.620029296875, "narration": {"text": "There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.", "cut_start_time": 713.4749877929688, "cut_end_time": 723.0201127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"Rifles!\" Izzy commented in disgust. \"They'll ruin the dome yet. Why can't they stick to knives?\"\n\nHe was studying a map of the big building, picking their best entrance. Ahead, trucks formed a sort of V formation as they reached the grounds around it and began bulling their way through the groups that were trying to organize a defense. Gordon found his way cleared and shot through, emerging behind the defense and driving at full speed toward the entrance Izzy pointed out.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Cut speed! Left sharp!\"<|quote_end|> Izzy shouted. \"Now, in there!\"\n\nThey sliced into a small tunnel, scraping their sides where it was barely big enough for the truck. Then they reached a dead end, with just room for them to squeeze through the door of the truck and into an entrance marked with a big notice of privacy.\n\nThere was a guard beside an elevator, but Izzy's knife took care of him. They ducked around the elevator, unsure of whether it could be remotely controlled, and up a narrow flight of stairs, down a hallway, and up another flight. A Municipal corporal at the top grabbed for a warning whistle, but Gordon clipped him with a hasty rabbit punch and shoved him down the stairs. Then they were in front of an ornate door, with their weapons ready.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Wayne, you're under arrest!\"", "start_byte": 187437, "end_byte": 187466, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 737.3250122070312, "cut_end_time": 739.8100747070313, "narration": {"text": "There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.", "cut_start_time": 713.4749877929688, "cut_end_time": 723.0201127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Izzy yanked the door open and dropped flat behind it. Bullets from a submachine gun clipped out, peppering the entrance and the door, and ricocheting down the hall. The yammering stopped, finally, and Izzy stuck his head and one arm out with a snap of his knife. Gordon leaped in, to see a Municipal dropping the machine gun.\n\nThere were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.\n\nIzzy leaped for the machine gun and yanked it from dead hands, while the cops slowly began raising their arms. Wayne sat petrified, staring unbelievingly, and Gordon drew out the warrant. <|quote_start|>\"Wayne, you're under arrest!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nTrench moved forward, his hands in the air, but with no mark of surprise or fear on his face. \"So the bad pennies turn up. You damned fools, you should have stuck. I had big plans for you, Gordon. I've still got them, if you don't insist...\"\n\nHis hands whipped down savagely toward his hips and came up sharply! Gordon spun, and the gun leaped in his hands, while the submachine gun jerked forward and clicked on an empty chamber. Trench was tumbling forward to avoid the shot, but he twitched as a bullet creased his shoulder. Then he was upright, waving empty hands at them, with the thin smile on his face deepening. He'd had no guns.", "narrative_information_pred": {"moved": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"So the bad pennies turn up. You damned fools, you should have stuck. I had big plans for you, Gordon. I've still got them, if you don't insist...\"", "start_byte": 187562, "end_byte": 187709, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 747.6549853515626, "cut_end_time": 756.8700478515625, "narration": {"text": " Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face.", "cut_start_time": 932.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 938.8601201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.\n\nIzzy leaped for the machine gun and yanked it from dead hands, while the cops slowly began raising their arms. Wayne sat petrified, staring unbelievingly, and Gordon drew out the warrant. \"Wayne, you're under arrest!\"\n\nTrench moved forward, his hands in the air, but with no mark of surprise or fear on his face. <|quote_start|>\"So the bad pennies turn up. You damned fools, you should have stuck. I had big plans for you, Gordon. I've still got them, if you don't insist...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis hands whipped down savagely toward his hips and came up sharply! Gordon spun, and the gun leaped in his hands, while the submachine gun jerked forward and clicked on an empty chamber. Trench was tumbling forward to avoid the shot, but he twitched as a bullet creased his shoulder. Then he was upright, waving empty hands at them, with the thin smile on his face deepening. He'd had no guns.\n\nGordon jerked around, but Wayne was already disappearing through a heavy door. And the cops were reaching for their guns. Gordon estimated the chances of escape and then leaped forward into their group, with Izzy at his side, seeking close quarters where guns wouldn't work.", "narrative_information_pred": {"moved": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Lucky we found a good car to steal,", "start_byte": 190323, "end_byte": 190359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 930.075009765625, "cut_end_time": 932.220009765625, "narration": {"text": " Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face.", "cut_start_time": 932.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 938.8601201171875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "They edged forward until they could make out the shape of the fight going on. The Legals had never quite reached the front of the building, obviously, and were now cut into sections. Corey tapped her shoulder, pointing out the rout, and she gunned the car.\n\nThey were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups of battle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first side street they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main street back to Legal territory.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Lucky we found a good car to steal,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. \"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"\n\n\"You didn't have to come,\" Izzy said.\n\n\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wheezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"", "start_byte": 190451, "end_byte": 190566, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 939.5650122070313, "cut_end_time": 949.7400122070313, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "cut_start_time": 959.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 968.75008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "They edged forward until they could make out the shape of the fight going on. The Legals had never quite reached the front of the building, obviously, and were now cut into sections. Corey tapped her shoulder, pointing out the rout, and she gunned the car.\n\nThey were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups of battle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first side street they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main street back to Legal territory.\n\n\"Lucky we found a good car to steal,\" Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. <|quote_start|>\"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You didn't have to come,\" Izzy said.\n\n\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.\n\nIzzy grunted suddenly. \"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"wheezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"You didn't have to come,", "start_byte": 190568, "end_byte": 190593, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 951.1749902343751, "cut_end_time": 952.260052734375, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "cut_start_time": 959.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 968.75008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "They were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups of battle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first side street they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main street back to Legal territory.\n\n\"Lucky we found a good car to steal,\" Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. \"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You didn't have to come,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy said.\n\n\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.\n\nIzzy grunted suddenly. \"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"", "start_byte": 190607, "end_byte": 190712, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 953.7349853515625, "cut_end_time": 959.3301103515626, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "cut_start_time": 959.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 968.75008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "They were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups of battle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first side street they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main street back to Legal territory.\n\n\"Lucky we found a good car to steal,\" Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. \"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"\n\n\"You didn't have to come,\" Izzy said.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.\n\nIzzy grunted suddenly. \"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"\n\n\"We still have to eat", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"", "start_byte": 190896, "end_byte": 191101, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 971.885009765625, "cut_end_time": 985.780072265625, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "cut_start_time": 959.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 968.75008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!\"\n\n\"You didn't have to come,\" Izzy said.\n\n\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.\n\nIzzy grunted suddenly. <|quote_start|>\"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"We still have to eat,\" Gordon said bitterly. \"And to eat, we'll go on doing what we're told.\"\n\nChapter XIV\n\nFULL CIRCLE\n\nHendrix had been wounded lightly, and was out when Gordon and Izzy reported. But the next day, they were switched to a new beat where trouble had been thickest and given twelve-hour duty -- without special overtime.\n\nIzzy considered it slowly and shook his head. \"That does it, gov'nor. It ain't honest, treating us this way. If the crackle comes from the people, and these gees give everybody a skull cracking, then they're crooks. It ain't honest, and I'm too sick to work. And if that bloody doctor won't agree...\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"grunted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"We still have to eat,", "start_byte": 191103, "end_byte": 191125, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 986.7050073242187, "cut_end_time": 987.7500073242188, "narration": {"text": "Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.", "cut_start_time": 959.6850195312501, "cut_end_time": 968.75008203125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?\"\n\nGordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.\n\nIzzy grunted suddenly. \"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"We still have to eat,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon said bitterly. \"And to eat, we'll go on doing what we're told.\"\n\nChapter XIV\n\nFULL CIRCLE\n\nHendrix had been wounded lightly, and was out when Gordon and Izzy reported. But the next day, they were switched to a new beat where trouble had been thickest and given twelve-hour duty -- without special overtime.\n\nIzzy considered it slowly and shook his head. \"That does it, gov'nor. It ain't honest, treating us this way. If the crackle comes from the people, and these gees give everybody a skull cracking, then they're crooks. It ain't honest, and I'm too sick to work. And if that bloody doctor won't agree...\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_13_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 30}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..5c173c229f35d9007b27a7ca4c9dd11fa806b3bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"That does it, gov'nor. It ain't honest, treating us this way. If the crackle comes from the people, and these gees give everybody a skull cracking, then they're crooks. It ain't honest, and I'm too sick to work. And if that bloody doctor won't agree...\"", "start_byte": 191488, "end_byte": 191742, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 33.235000915527344, "cut_end_time": 49.47000091552734, "narration": {"text": "He picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!", "cut_start_time": 191.02500244140626, "cut_end_time": 198.88000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "\"Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?\"\n\n\"We still have to eat,\" Gordon said bitterly. \"And to eat, we'll go on doing what we're told.\"\n\nChapter XIV\n\nFULL CIRCLE\n\nHendrix had been wounded lightly, and was out when Gordon and Izzy reported. But the next day, they were switched to a new beat where trouble had been thickest and given twelve-hour duty -- without special overtime.\n\nIzzy considered it slowly and shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"That does it, gov'nor. It ain't honest, treating us this way. If the crackle comes from the people, and these gees give everybody a skull cracking, then they're crooks. It ain't honest, and I'm too sick to work. And if that bloody doctor won't agree...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned toward the dispensary. Gordon hesitated, and then swung off woodenly to take up his new beat. Apparently, his reputation had gone ahead of him, since most of the hoodlums had decided pickings would be easier on some beat where the cops had their own secret rackets to attend to, instead of head busting. But once they learned he was alone...\n\nBut the second day, two of the citizens fell into step behind him almost at once, armed with heavy clubs. Periodically during the shift, replacements took their place, making sure that he was never by himself. It surprised him even more when he saw that a couple of the men had come over from his old beat. Something began to burn inside him, but he held himself in, confining his talk to vague comments on the rumors going around.", "narrative_information_pred": {"considered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"Get out of my way, you damned Legal machine!", "start_byte": 193618, "end_byte": 193663, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 180.2749981689453, "cut_end_time": 182.7800606689453, "narration": {"text": "He picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!", "cut_start_time": 191.02500244140626, "cut_end_time": 198.88000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "All kinds of supplies were low, and the outlands beyond Marsport had cut off all shipments. Scrip was useless to them, and the Legals were raiding all cargoes destined for Wayne's section. And the Municipals had imposed new taxes again.\n\nHe came back from what should have been his day off to find Izzy in uniform, waiting grimly. Behind the screen, there was a rustling of clothes, and a dress came sailing from behind it. While he stared, Sheila came out, finishing the zipping of her airsuit. She moved to a small bag and began drawing out the gun she had used and a knife. He caught her shoulders and shoved her back, pulling the weapons from her.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Get out of my way, you damned Legal machine!\"<|quote_end|> she spat.\n\n\"Easy, princess,\" Izzy said. \"He hasn't seen it yet, I guess. Here, gov'nor!\"\n\nHe picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!\n\nThe story was somewhat cooler than that, but not much. Randolph simply quoted what was supposed to be an official cable from Security on Earth, denouncing both governments and demanding that both immediately surrender. It listed the crimes of Wayne, then tore into the Legals as a bunch of dupes, sent by North America to foment trouble while they looted the city, and to give the Earth government an excuse for seizing military control of Marsport officially. Citizens were instructed not to co-operate; all members of either government were indicted for high treason to Security!", "narrative_information_pred": {"spat": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"He hasn't seen it yet, I guess. Here, gov'nor!\"", "start_byte": 193705, "end_byte": 193753, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 186.19499816894532, "cut_end_time": 190.1201231689453, "narration": {"text": "He picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!", "cut_start_time": 191.02500244140626, "cut_end_time": 198.88000244140625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "He came back from what should have been his day off to find Izzy in uniform, waiting grimly. Behind the screen, there was a rustling of clothes, and a dress came sailing from behind it. While he stared, Sheila came out, finishing the zipping of her airsuit. She moved to a small bag and began drawing out the gun she had used and a knife. He caught her shoulders and shoved her back, pulling the weapons from her.\n\n\"Get out of my way, you damned Legal machine!\" she spat.\n\n\"Easy, princess,\" Izzy said. <|quote_start|>\"He hasn't seen it yet, I guess. Here, gov'nor!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!\n\nThe story was somewhat cooler than that, but not much. Randolph simply quoted what was supposed to be an official cable from Security on Earth, denouncing both governments and demanding that both immediately surrender. It listed the crimes of Wayne, then tore into the Legals as a bunch of dupes, sent by North America to foment trouble while they looted the city, and to give the Earth government an excuse for seizing military control of Marsport officially. Citizens were instructed not to co-operate; all members of either government were indicted for high treason to Security!", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"At his plant. At least he left for it, according to Sheila.\"", "start_byte": 194657, "end_byte": 194718, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 255.8950061035156, "cut_end_time": 259.7500686035156, "narration": {"text": "He crushed the paper slowly, tearing it to bits with his clenched hands; he'd swallowed the implication that the Legals were Security...", "cut_start_time": 241.90499389648437, "cut_end_time": 250.37005639648436, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "The story was somewhat cooler than that, but not much. Randolph simply quoted what was supposed to be an official cable from Security on Earth, denouncing both governments and demanding that both immediately surrender. It listed the crimes of Wayne, then tore into the Legals as a bunch of dupes, sent by North America to foment trouble while they looted the city, and to give the Earth government an excuse for seizing military control of Marsport officially. Citizens were instructed not to co-operate; all members of either government were indicted for high treason to Security!\n\nHe crushed the paper slowly, tearing it to bits with his clenched hands; he'd swallowed the implication that the Legals were Security...\n\nThen it hit him slowly, and he looked up. \"Where's Randolph?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"At his plant. At least he left for it, according to Sheila.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again. \"You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!\"\n\nShe was swearing hotly as they left, but made no attempt to follow. Gordon broke into a slow trot behind Izzy, until they could spot one of the few remaining cabs. He stopped it with his whistle, and dumped the passenger out unceremoniously, while Izzy gave the address.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!\"", "start_byte": 194833, "end_byte": 194909, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 267.81500610351566, "cut_end_time": 271.91006860351564, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "The story was somewhat cooler than that, but not much. Randolph simply quoted what was supposed to be an official cable from Security on Earth, denouncing both governments and demanding that both immediately surrender. It listed the crimes of Wayne, then tore into the Legals as a bunch of dupes, sent by North America to foment trouble while they looted the city, and to give the Earth government an excuse for seizing military control of Marsport officially. Citizens were instructed not to co-operate; all members of either government were indicted for high treason to Security!\n\nHe crushed the paper slowly, tearing it to bits with his clenched hands; he'd swallowed the implication that the Legals were Security...\n\nThen it hit him slowly, and he looked up. \"Where's Randolph?\"\n\n\"At his plant. At least he left for it, according to Sheila.\"\n\nGordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again. <|quote_start|>\"You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe was swearing hotly as they left, but made no attempt to follow. Gordon broke into a slow trot behind Izzy, until they could spot one of the few remaining cabs. He stopped it with his whistle, and dumped the passenger out unceremoniously, while Izzy gave the address.\n\n\"The damned fool opened up on the border -- figured he'd circulate to both sections,\" Izzy said. \"We'd better get out a block up and walk. And I hope we ain't too bloody late!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shoved": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"The damned fool opened up on the border -- figured he'd circulate to both sections,", "start_byte": 195183, "end_byte": 195267, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.16498779296876, "cut_end_time": 295.8400502929688, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again. \"You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!\"\n\nShe was swearing hotly as they left, but made no attempt to follow. Gordon broke into a slow trot behind Izzy, until they could spot one of the few remaining cabs. He stopped it with his whistle, and dumped the passenger out unceremoniously, while Izzy gave the address.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The damned fool opened up on the border -- figured he'd circulate to both sections,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy said. \"We'd better get out a block up and walk. And I hope we ain't too bloody late!\"\n\nThe building was a wreck, outside; inside it was worse. Men in the Municipal uniform were working over the small job press and dumping the hand-set type from the boxes. On the floor, a single Legal cop lay under the wreckage, apparently having gotten there first and been taken care of by the later Municipals. Randolph had been sitting in a chair between two of the cops, but now he leaped up and tried to flee through the back door.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"We'd better get out a block up and walk. And I hope we ain't too bloody late!\"", "start_byte": 195280, "end_byte": 195359, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 297.2350134277344, "cut_end_time": 301.5200134277344, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!\"\n\nShe was swearing hotly as they left, but made no attempt to follow. Gordon broke into a slow trot behind Izzy, until they could spot one of the few remaining cabs. He stopped it with his whistle, and dumped the passenger out unceremoniously, while Izzy gave the address.\n\n\"The damned fool opened up on the border -- figured he'd circulate to both sections,\" Izzy said. <|quote_start|>\"We'd better get out a block up and walk. And I hope we ain't too bloody late!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe building was a wreck, outside; inside it was worse. Men in the Municipal uniform were working over the small job press and dumping the hand-set type from the boxes. On the floor, a single Legal cop lay under the wreckage, apparently having gotten there first and been taken care of by the later Municipals. Randolph had been sitting in a chair between two of the cops, but now he leaped up and tried to flee through the back door.\n\nIzzy started forward, but Gordon pulled him back, as the cops reached for their weapons. The gun in his hand picked them out at quarters too close for a miss, starting with the cop who had jumped to catch Randolph. Izzy had ducked around the side, and now came back, leading the little man.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Arrest or rescue?", "start_byte": 196318, "end_byte": 196336, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 376.86500122070316, "cut_end_time": 378.2200012207031, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "Izzy started forward, but Gordon pulled him back, as the cops reached for their weapons. The gun in his hand picked them out at quarters too close for a miss, starting with the cop who had jumped to catch Randolph. Izzy had ducked around the side, and now came back, leading the little man.\n\nRandolph paid no attention to the dead men, nor to the bruises on his own body. He moved forward to the press, staring at it, and there were tears in his eyes as he ran his hands over the broken metal. Then he looked up at them. <|quote_start|>\"Arrest or rescue?\"<|quote_end|> he asked.\n\n\"Arrest!\" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. \"Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!\"\n\nHe grabbed Randolph by the arm.\n\n\"You're overlooking something, Hendrix,\" Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!\"", "start_byte": 196504, "end_byte": 196660, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 390.2350085449219, "cut_end_time": 399.6300710449219, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "Randolph paid no attention to the dead men, nor to the bruises on his own body. He moved forward to the press, staring at it, and there were tears in his eyes as he ran his hands over the broken metal. Then he looked up at them. \"Arrest or rescue?\" he asked.\n\n\"Arrest!\" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. <|quote_start|>\"Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe grabbed Randolph by the arm.\n\n\"You're overlooking something, Hendrix,\" Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. \"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"\n\nHendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harshly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"You're overlooking something, Hendrix,", "start_byte": 196695, "end_byte": 196734, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 402.8049938964844, "cut_end_time": 404.8001188964844, "narration": {"text": "Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again.", "cut_start_time": 260.8650109863282, "cut_end_time": 267.29007348632814, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "Randolph paid no attention to the dead men, nor to the bruises on his own body. He moved forward to the press, staring at it, and there were tears in his eyes as he ran his hands over the broken metal. Then he looked up at them. \"Arrest or rescue?\" he asked.\n\n\"Arrest!\" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. \"Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!\"\n\nHe grabbed Randolph by the arm.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You're overlooking something, Hendrix,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. \"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"\n\nHendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"", "start_byte": 196805, "end_byte": 196917, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 410.3750048828125, "cut_end_time": 417.73006738281254, "narration": {"text": "Randolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile.", "cut_start_time": 447.4949987792969, "cut_end_time": 452.6101237792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"Arrest!\" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. \"Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!\"\n\nHe grabbed Randolph by the arm.\n\n\"You're overlooking something, Hendrix,\" Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. <|quote_start|>\"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.\n\n\"And I hope nobody finds them,\" he commented. \"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"\n\nRandolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile.", "narrative_information_pred": {"cut": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"And I hope nobody finds them,", "start_byte": 197144, "end_byte": 197174, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.8950024414063, "cut_end_time": 435.7400649414063, "narration": {"text": "Randolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile.", "cut_start_time": 447.4949987792969, "cut_end_time": 452.6101237792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\" Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. \"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"\n\nHendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And I hope nobody finds them,\"<|quote_end|> he commented. \"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"\n\nRandolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile. \"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.\" He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"", "start_byte": 197190, "end_byte": 197331, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 437.35499145507816, "cut_end_time": 446.76005395507815, "narration": {"text": "Randolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile.", "cut_start_time": 447.4949987792969, "cut_end_time": 452.6101237792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. \"If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy.\"\n\nHendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.\n\n\"And I hope nobody finds them,\" he commented. <|quote_start|>\"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nRandolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile. \"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.\" He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph. \"Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?\"\n\nIzzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter.", "narrative_information_pred": {"commented": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.", "start_byte": 197423, "end_byte": 197552, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 453.2050085449219, "cut_end_time": 461.8600085449219, "narration": {"text": "Randolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile.", "cut_start_time": 447.4949987792969, "cut_end_time": 452.6101237792969, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "Hendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.\n\n\"And I hope nobody finds them,\" he commented. \"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"\n\nRandolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile. <|quote_start|>\"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.\"<|quote_end|> He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph. \"Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?\"\n\nIzzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter. \"Okay, Randy, we'll find them. Gov'nor, you'd better tell my mother I'll be using the old sheets. Go on. You've got the princess to worry about. We'll be along later.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"managed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "feeble": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?\"", "start_byte": 197635, "end_byte": 197744, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 467.94500244140625, "cut_end_time": 473.26006494140626, "narration": {"text": "Izzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter.", "cut_start_time": 474.4250122070313, "cut_end_time": 480.90007470703125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends.\"\n\nRandolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile. \"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.\" He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph. <|quote_start|>\"Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIzzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter. \"Okay, Randy, we'll find them. Gov'nor, you'd better tell my mother I'll be using the old sheets. Go on. You've got the princess to worry about. We'll be along later.\"\n\nHe grabbed Randolph's hand and ducked out the back before Gordon could protest.\n\nIzzy could only have meant that they were going to hole up in Mother Corey's old Chicken Coop. Bruce Gordon had now managed to make a full circle, back to his beginnings on Mars. He'd started at the Coop with a deck of cards; now he was returning with a club.", "narrative_information_pred": {"managed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "feeble": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Okay, Randy, we'll find them. Gov'nor, you'd better tell my mother I'll be using the old sheets. Go on. You've got the princess to worry about. We'll be along later.\"", "start_byte": 197846, "end_byte": 198013, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 481.81500610351566, "cut_end_time": 494.08000610351564, "narration": {"text": "Izzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter.", "cut_start_time": 474.4250122070313, "cut_end_time": 480.90007470703125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to.\" He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph. \"Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?\"\n\nIzzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter. <|quote_start|>\"Okay, Randy, we'll find them. Gov'nor, you'd better tell my mother I'll be using the old sheets. Go on. You've got the princess to worry about. We'll be along later.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe grabbed Randolph's hand and ducked out the back before Gordon could protest.\n\nIzzy could only have meant that they were going to hole up in Mother Corey's old Chicken Coop. Bruce Gordon had now managed to make a full circle, back to his beginnings on Mars. He'd started at the Coop with a deck of cards; now he was returning with a club.\n\nHe had counted on at least some regret from Mother Corey, however. But the old man only nodded after hearing that Randolph was safe.", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sudden": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "laughter": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Fanatics, crusaders and damned fools!", "start_byte": 198490, "end_byte": 198528, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 524.7349975585938, "cut_end_time": 527.7401225585937, "narration": {"text": " he said. He shook his head sadly and went shuffling back to his room, where two of his part-time henchmen were sitting.", "cut_start_time": 527.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 535.6400146484375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "He grabbed Randolph's hand and ducked out the back before Gordon could protest.\n\nIzzy could only have meant that they were going to hole up in Mother Corey's old Chicken Coop. Bruce Gordon had now managed to make a full circle, back to his beginnings on Mars. He'd started at the Coop with a deck of cards; now he was returning with a club.\n\nHe had counted on at least some regret from Mother Corey, however. But the old man only nodded after hearing that Randolph was safe. <|quote_start|>\"Fanatics, crusaders and damned fools!\"<|quote_end|> he said. He shook his head sadly and went shuffling back to his room, where two of his part-time henchmen were sitting.\n\nSheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "sadly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"And I packed your things, too.\"", "start_byte": 198984, "end_byte": 199016, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 560.1749829101562, "cut_end_time": 561.8601079101562, "narration": {"text": "He shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head.", "cut_start_time": 562.4250170898438, "cut_end_time": 571.5100795898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\" he said. He shook his head sadly and went shuffling back to his room, where two of his part-time henchmen were sitting.\n\nSheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said. <|quote_start|>\"And I packed your things, too.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. \"I won't need them out there,\" she said. Her voice caught on that. \"They'll be safe here.\"\n\n\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"I won't need them out there,", "start_byte": 199168, "end_byte": 199197, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 571.9450146484376, "cut_end_time": 573.4200146484375, "narration": {"text": "He shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head.", "cut_start_time": 562.4250170898438, "cut_end_time": 571.5100795898438, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "Sheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said. \"And I packed your things, too.\"\n\nHe shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. <|quote_start|>\"I won't need them out there,\"<|quote_end|> she said. Her voice caught on that. \"They'll be safe here.\"\n\n\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"\n\n\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"They'll be safe here.\"", "start_byte": 199235, "end_byte": 199258, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 578.2750268554688, "cut_end_time": 579.4200268554688, "narration": {"text": " She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "cut_start_time": 600.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 605.6100893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "Sheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said. \"And I packed your things, too.\"\n\nHe shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. \"I won't need them out there,\" she said. Her voice caught on that. <|quote_start|>\"They'll be safe here.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"\n\n\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "narrative_information_pred": {"caught": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,", "start_byte": 199260, "end_byte": 199314, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 580.5049951171875, "cut_end_time": 582.9600576171875, "narration": {"text": " She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "cut_start_time": 600.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 605.6100893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "Sheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said. \"And I packed your things, too.\"\n\nHe shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. \"I won't need them out there,\" she said. Her voice caught on that. \"They'll be safe here.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\"<|quote_end|> he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"\n\n\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. \"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"", "start_byte": 199329, "end_byte": 199484, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 584.1850000000001, "cut_end_time": 593.2600625, "narration": {"text": " She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "cut_start_time": 600.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 605.6100893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "Sheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.\n\n\"I'm all packed,\" she said. \"And I packed your things, too.\"\n\nHe shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. \"I won't need them out there,\" she said. Her voice caught on that. \"They'll be safe here.\"\n\n\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. <|quote_start|>\"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. \"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"\n\nHe left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.", "start_byte": 199486, "end_byte": 199563, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 594.1150146484375, "cut_end_time": 599.5000771484375, "narration": {"text": " She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again.", "cut_start_time": 600.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 605.6100893554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "He shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. \"I won't need them out there,\" she said. Her voice caught on that. \"They'll be safe here.\"\n\n\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\"<|quote_end|> She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. \"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"\n\nHe left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.\n\n\"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?\" he said. He stared at Sheila.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"", "start_byte": 199661, "end_byte": 199772, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 606.9050024414063, "cut_end_time": 613.1500024414063, "narration": {"text": "She nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"", "cut_start_time": 689.6950073242188, "cut_end_time": 698.3100073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother,\" he told her. \"Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been.\"\n\n\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. <|quote_start|>\"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.\n\n\"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?\" he said. He stared at Sheila. \"Lucky devil! All I got for a guide was an old bum. Okay, luck, Sergeant!\"\n\nIt made no sense to Gordon, but he wasn't going to argue. They went through and out into the waste and slums beyond the domes, heading out until there were only the few phosphor bulbs to guide their way.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?", "start_byte": 199962, "end_byte": 200003, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 626.8549926757813, "cut_end_time": 629.0201176757813, "narration": {"text": "She nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"", "cut_start_time": 689.6950073242188, "cut_end_time": 698.3100073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human.\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. \"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"\n\nHe left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?\"<|quote_end|> he said. He stared at Sheila. \"Lucky devil! All I got for a guide was an old bum. Okay, luck, Sergeant!\"\n\nIt made no sense to Gordon, but he wasn't going to argue. They went through and out into the waste and slums beyond the domes, heading out until there were only the few phosphor bulbs to guide their way.\n\nGordon was moving cautiously, using his helmet light only occasionally, gun ready in his hand. But it was Sheila who caught the faint sound. He heard her cry out, and turned to see her crash into the stomach of a man with a half-raised stick. He went down with almost no resistance. Sheila shot the beam of her light on the thin, drawn face. \"Rusty!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"Lucky devil! All I got for a guide was an old bum. Okay, luck, Sergeant!\"", "start_byte": 200035, "end_byte": 200109, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 632.954970703125, "cut_end_time": 639.0400332031251, "narration": {"text": "She nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"", "cut_start_time": 689.6950073242188, "cut_end_time": 698.3100073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\" She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. \"You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk.\"\n\nHe left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.\n\n\"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?\" he said. He stared at Sheila. <|quote_start|>\"Lucky devil! All I got for a guide was an old bum. Okay, luck, Sergeant!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt made no sense to Gordon, but he wasn't going to argue. They went through and out into the waste and slums beyond the domes, heading out until there were only the few phosphor bulbs to guide their way.\n\nGordon was moving cautiously, using his helmet light only occasionally, gun ready in his hand. But it was Sheila who caught the faint sound. He heard her cry out, and turned to see her crash into the stomach of a man with a half-raised stick. He went down with almost no resistance. Sheila shot the beam of her light on the thin, drawn face. \"Rusty!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"stared": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"Didn't know who it was. Sorry. Ever get that louse you were out for?\"", "start_byte": 200718, "end_byte": 200788, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 683.98498046875, "cut_end_time": 689.0501054687501, "narration": {"text": "She nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"", "cut_start_time": 689.6950073242188, "cut_end_time": 698.3100073242188, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "It made no sense to Gordon, but he wasn't going to argue. They went through and out into the waste and slums beyond the domes, heading out until there were only the few phosphor bulbs to guide their way.\n\nGordon was moving cautiously, using his helmet light only occasionally, gun ready in his hand. But it was Sheila who caught the faint sound. He heard her cry out, and turned to see her crash into the stomach of a man with a half-raised stick. He went down with almost no resistance. Sheila shot the beam of her light on the thin, drawn face. \"Rusty!\"\n\n\"Hi, princess.\" He got up slowly, trying to grin. <|quote_start|>\"Didn't know who it was. Sorry. Ever get that louse you were out for?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"\n\n\"Things are a mite tough out here, princess. No deliveries. Closed my bar, been living sort of hand to mouth, but not much mouth.\" His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"got": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "up": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"Things are a mite tough out here, princess. No deliveries. Closed my bar, been living sort of hand to mouth, but not much mouth.", "start_byte": 200912, "end_byte": 201041, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 699.2749707031251, "cut_end_time": 707.650095703125, "narration": {"text": " His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 708.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 716.9000268554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "Gordon was moving cautiously, using his helmet light only occasionally, gun ready in his hand. But it was Sheila who caught the faint sound. He heard her cry out, and turned to see her crash into the stomach of a man with a half-raised stick. He went down with almost no resistance. Sheila shot the beam of her light on the thin, drawn face. \"Rusty!\"\n\n\"Hi, princess.\" He got up slowly, trying to grin. \"Didn't know who it was. Sorry. Ever get that louse you were out for?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Things are a mite tough out here, princess. No deliveries. Closed my bar, been living sort of hand to mouth, but not much mouth.\"<|quote_end|> His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head. \"I ain't so bad off. I ate something yesterday. But if you can spare something for the Kid -- Hey, Kid!\"\n\nA thin boy of about sixteen crept out from behind some rubble, staring uncertainly. Then, at the sight of the food, he made a lunge, grabbed it, and hardly waited to get it through the slits of his suit before gulping it down. Rusty sat down, his lined old face breaking into a faint grin. He hesitated, but finally took some of the food.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"I ain't so bad off. I ate something yesterday. But if you can spare something for the Kid -- Hey, Kid!\"", "start_byte": 201185, "end_byte": 201289, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 717.6849853515625, "cut_end_time": 724.4601103515625, "narration": {"text": " His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 708.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 716.9000268554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "She nodded. \"Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- \"\n\n\"Things are a mite tough out here, princess. No deliveries. Closed my bar, been living sort of hand to mouth, but not much mouth.\" His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head. <|quote_start|>\"I ain't so bad off. I ate something yesterday. But if you can spare something for the Kid -- Hey, Kid!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nA thin boy of about sixteen crept out from behind some rubble, staring uncertainly. Then, at the sight of the food, he made a lunge, grabbed it, and hardly waited to get it through the slits of his suit before gulping it down. Rusty sat down, his lined old face breaking into a faint grin. He hesitated, but finally took some of the food.\n\n\"Shouldn't oughta. You'll need it. Umm.\" He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 34}, {"text": "\"Shouldn't oughta. You'll need it. Umm.", "start_byte": 201631, "end_byte": 201670, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 751.5249853515626, "cut_end_time": 754.9801103515625, "narration": {"text": " His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 708.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 716.9000268554688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"I ain't so bad off. I ate something yesterday. But if you can spare something for the Kid -- Hey, Kid!\"\n\nA thin boy of about sixteen crept out from behind some rubble, staring uncertainly. Then, at the sight of the food, he made a lunge, grabbed it, and hardly waited to get it through the slits of his suit before gulping it down. Rusty sat down, his lined old face breaking into a faint grin. He hesitated, but finally took some of the food.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Shouldn't oughta. You'll need it. Umm.\"<|quote_end|> He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down. \"Kid can't talk. Cop caught him peddling one of Randolph's pamphlets, cut out part of his tongue. But he's all right now. Come on, Kid, hurry it up. We gotta convoy these people.\"\n\nThey were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"swallowed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"Kid can't talk. Cop caught him peddling one of Randolph's pamphlets, cut out part of his tongue. But he's all right now. Come on, Kid, hurry it up. We gotta convoy these people.\"", "start_byte": 201734, "end_byte": 201913, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 760.504990234375, "cut_end_time": 772.790052734375, "narration": {"text": " He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down.", "cut_start_time": 754.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5400048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "A thin boy of about sixteen crept out from behind some rubble, staring uncertainly. Then, at the sight of the food, he made a lunge, grabbed it, and hardly waited to get it through the slits of his suit before gulping it down. Rusty sat down, his lined old face breaking into a faint grin. He hesitated, but finally took some of the food.\n\n\"Shouldn't oughta. You'll need it. Umm.\" He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down. <|quote_start|>\"Kid can't talk. Cop caught him peddling one of Randolph's pamphlets, cut out part of his tongue. But he's all right now. Come on, Kid, hurry it up. We gotta convoy these people.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it. \"Any muckrakers there?\"\n\n\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"swallowed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"Any muckrakers there?\"", "start_byte": 202209, "end_byte": 202232, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 792.1250048828125, "cut_end_time": 793.5400673828125, "narration": {"text": " He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down.", "cut_start_time": 754.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5400048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\"Kid can't talk. Cop caught him peddling one of Randolph's pamphlets, cut out part of his tongue. But he's all right now. Come on, Kid, hurry it up. We gotta convoy these people.\"\n\nThey were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it. <|quote_start|>\"Any muckrakers there?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.\n\n\"Why didn't you two wait?\" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. \"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Why didn't you two wait?", "start_byte": 202467, "end_byte": 202492, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 811.2449877929688, "cut_end_time": 812.4201127929688, "narration": {"text": " He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down.", "cut_start_time": 754.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 759.5400048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "They were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it. \"Any muckrakers there?\"\n\n\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Why didn't you two wait?\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. \"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "booming": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"", "start_byte": 202555, "end_byte": 202677, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 816.7350024414063, "cut_end_time": 825.0400649414063, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "They were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it. \"Any muckrakers there?\"\n\n\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.\n\n\"Why didn't you two wait?\" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. <|quote_start|>\"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Messy, but nice,\" Izzy agreed from the pile above them. \"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "booming": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"What in hell brings you back?", "start_byte": 202679, "end_byte": 202709, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 825.9250024414063, "cut_end_time": 827.2100024414062, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.\n\n\"Why didn't you two wait?\" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. \"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What in hell brings you back?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Messy, but nice,\" Izzy agreed from the pile above them. \"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.", "start_byte": 202761, "end_byte": 202868, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 831.7950146484375, "cut_end_time": 837.9600771484376, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\"One,\" Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.\n\n\"Why didn't you two wait?\" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. \"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. <|quote_start|>\"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\"<|quote_end|> He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Messy, but nice,\" Izzy agreed from the pile above them. \"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"\n\nThey stopped the truck before reaching the old wreck. In the few dim lights, the old building still gave off an air of mold and decay. Gordon shuddered faintly, then followed Izzy and the Mother into the semi-secret entrance.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "ponderously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"", "start_byte": 202911, "end_byte": 203008, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 842.2950219726563, "cut_end_time": 847.6300219726563, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\"Why didn't you two wait?\" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. \"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. <|quote_start|>\"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Messy, but nice,\" Izzy agreed from the pile above them. \"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"\n\nThey stopped the truck before reaching the old wreck. In the few dim lights, the old building still gave off an air of mold and decay. Gordon shuddered faintly, then followed Izzy and the Mother into the semi-secret entrance.\n\nIzzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"Messy, but nice,", "start_byte": 203010, "end_byte": 203027, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 848.524990234375, "cut_end_time": 849.790115234375, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Messy, but nice,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy agreed from the pile above them. \"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"\n\nThey stopped the truck before reaching the old wreck. In the few dim lights, the old building still gave off an air of mold and decay. Gordon shuddered faintly, then followed Izzy and the Mother into the semi-secret entrance.\n\nIzzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"", "start_byte": 203067, "end_byte": 203171, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 852.76501953125, "cut_end_time": 858.09001953125, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "\"I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking.\"\n\n\"What in hell brings you back?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe huge man shrugged ponderously. \"A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop.\" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. \"But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?\"\n\n\"Messy, but nice,\" Izzy agreed from the pile above them. <|quote_start|>\"Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey stopped the truck before reaching the old wreck. In the few dim lights, the old building still gave off an air of mold and decay. Gordon shuddered faintly, then followed Izzy and the Mother into the semi-secret entrance.\n\nIzzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"They're all dead, cobbers,", "start_byte": 203972, "end_byte": 203999, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 916.235009765625, "cut_end_time": 917.4300097656251, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "Izzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.\n\nIn the beam of Gordon's torch, a single figure lay sprawled out on the floor halfway to the rickety stairs to the main house. Mother Corey grunted, and moved quickly to the coughing, battered old air machine. His fingers closed a valve equipped with a combination lock.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"They're all dead, cobbers,\"<|quote_end|> he wheezed. \"Dead because a crook had to try his hand on a lock. Years ago, I had a flask of poison gas attached, in case a gang should ever squeeze me out.\"\n\nIn the filthy rooms above, Gordon found the corpses -- about fifteen of them, and some former members of the Jurgens organization. He found the apelike bodyguard stretched out on a bunk, a vacant smile on his face.\n\nA yell from the basement called him back down to where Izzy was busily going through piles of crates and boxes stacked along one wall. He was pointing to a lead-foil-covered box.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wheezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"Dead because a crook had to try his hand on a lock. Years ago, I had a flask of poison gas attached, in case a gang should ever squeeze me out.\"", "start_byte": 204013, "end_byte": 204158, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 918.3249951171875, "cut_end_time": 927.6600576171875, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "Izzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.\n\nIn the beam of Gordon's torch, a single figure lay sprawled out on the floor halfway to the rickety stairs to the main house. Mother Corey grunted, and moved quickly to the coughing, battered old air machine. His fingers closed a valve equipped with a combination lock.\n\n\"They're all dead, cobbers,\" he wheezed. <|quote_start|>\"Dead because a crook had to try his hand on a lock. Years ago, I had a flask of poison gas attached, in case a gang should ever squeeze me out.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIn the filthy rooms above, Gordon found the corpses -- about fifteen of them, and some former members of the Jurgens organization. He found the apelike bodyguard stretched out on a bunk, a vacant smile on his face.\n\nA yell from the basement called him back down to where Izzy was busily going through piles of crates and boxes stacked along one wall. He was pointing to a lead-foil-covered box. \"Dope! And all that other stuff's ammunition!\"\n\nHe shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.", "narrative_information_pred": {"wheezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\"Dope! And all that other stuff's ammunition!\"", "start_byte": 204555, "end_byte": 204601, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 957.3849853515625, "cut_end_time": 960.4601103515625, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "\"Dead because a crook had to try his hand on a lock. Years ago, I had a flask of poison gas attached, in case a gang should ever squeeze me out.\"\n\nIn the filthy rooms above, Gordon found the corpses -- about fifteen of them, and some former members of the Jurgens organization. He found the apelike bodyguard stretched out on a bunk, a vacant smile on his face.\n\nA yell from the basement called him back down to where Izzy was busily going through piles of crates and boxes stacked along one wall. He was pointing to a lead-foil-covered box. <|quote_start|>\"Dope! And all that other stuff's ammunition!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.\n\nMother Corey was staring about when they returned. \"Filthy,\" he wailed. \"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it", "narrative_information_pred": {"pointing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!", "start_byte": 205062, "end_byte": 205144, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 993.7649926757813, "cut_end_time": 1000.6300551757813, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "\"Dope! And all that other stuff's ammunition!\"\n\nHe shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.\n\nMother Corey was staring about when they returned. \"Filthy,\" he wailed. <|quote_start|>\"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!\"<|quote_end|> He sniffed dolefully.\n\nMother Corey sighed again. \"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,\" he decided. \"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"\n\nGordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. \"I'll be cleaning for a week", "narrative_information_pred": {"wailed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sniffed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "dolefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,", "start_byte": 205196, "end_byte": 205239, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1005.0350268554688, "cut_end_time": 1007.2800893554688, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "He shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.\n\nMother Corey was staring about when they returned. \"Filthy,\" he wailed. \"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!\" He sniffed dolefully.\n\nMother Corey sighed again. <|quote_start|>\"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,\"<|quote_end|> he decided. \"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"\n\nGordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. \"I'll be cleaning for a week,\" she said. \"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"\n\nHe shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "narrative_information_pred": {"decided": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"", "start_byte": 205253, "end_byte": 205336, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1008.5250122070313, "cut_end_time": 1014.1800747070313, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "He shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.\n\nMother Corey was staring about when they returned. \"Filthy,\" he wailed. \"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!\" He sniffed dolefully.\n\nMother Corey sighed again. \"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,\" he decided. <|quote_start|>\"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. \"I'll be cleaning for a week,\" she said. \"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"\n\nHe shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.\n\nThe printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently.", "narrative_information_pred": {"decided": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\"I'll be cleaning for a week,", "start_byte": 205554, "end_byte": 205583, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1031.5450390624999, "cut_end_time": 1033.1401015625, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "\"A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!\" He sniffed dolefully.\n\nMother Corey sighed again. \"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,\" he decided. \"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"\n\nGordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. <|quote_start|>\"I'll be cleaning for a week,\"<|quote_end|> she said. \"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"\n\nHe shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.\n\nThe printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently. \"I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"", "start_byte": 205595, "end_byte": 205633, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1034.1849658203123, "cut_end_time": 1035.9400283203124, "narration": {"text": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.", "cut_start_time": 1036.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1044.1101201171873, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey sighed again. \"Well, it'll give the boys something to do,\" he decided. \"When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him...\"\n\nGordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. \"I'll be cleaning for a week,\" she said. <|quote_start|>\"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.\n\nThe printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently. \"I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\"I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have.\"", "start_byte": 205849, "end_byte": 206143, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1050.4550341796873, "cut_end_time": 1068.2800341796874, "narration": {"text": "Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.", "cut_start_time": 1107.2149609374999, "cut_end_time": 1116.3000234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "Gordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. \"I'll be cleaning for a week,\" she said. \"What are you going to do now, Bruce?\"\n\nHe shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.\n\nThe printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently. <|quote_start|>\"I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Thanks!\" Gordon said curtly. \"Too bad Security didn't think I was as lousy a reporter as you do!\"\n\n\"Okay. I'll give you a job, for one week. See what outer Marsport is like. Find what can be done, if anything, and do it if you can. Then come back and give me six columns on it. I'll pay Mother Corey for your food -- and for your wife's -- and if I can find one column's worth of news in it, maybe I'll give you a second week. I can't see a man's wife starve because he doesn't know how to make an honest living!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "impatiently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\"Too bad Security didn't think I was as lousy a reporter as you do!\"", "start_byte": 206175, "end_byte": 206243, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1071.495029296875, "cut_end_time": 1075.540091796875, "narration": {"text": "Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.", "cut_start_time": 1107.2149609374999, "cut_end_time": 1116.3000234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.\n\nThe printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently. \"I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have.\"\n\n\"Thanks!\" Gordon said curtly. <|quote_start|>\"Too bad Security didn't think I was as lousy a reporter as you do!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Okay. I'll give you a job, for one week. See what outer Marsport is like. Find what can be done, if anything, and do it if you can. Then come back and give me six columns on it. I'll pay Mother Corey for your food -- and for your wife's -- and if I can find one column's worth of news in it, maybe I'll give you a second week. I can't see a man's wife starve because he doesn't know how to make an honest living!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "curtly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 57}, {"text": "\"You all right, Bruce? I heard you tossing around.\"", "start_byte": 207045, "end_byte": 207096, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1133.1149658203124, "cut_end_time": 1136.3100283203123, "narration": {"text": "Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.", "cut_start_time": 1107.2149609374999, "cut_end_time": 1116.3000234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_49.flac"}, "context": "\"Okay. I'll give you a job, for one week. See what outer Marsport is like. Find what can be done, if anything, and do it if you can. Then come back and give me six columns on it. I'll pay Mother Corey for your food -- and for your wife's -- and if I can find one column's worth of news in it, maybe I'll give you a second week. I can't see a man's wife starve because he doesn't know how to make an honest living!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nRusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.\n\n\"Bruce!\" Sheila stood outlined in the doorway against the dim glow of a phosphor bulb. Her robe was partly open, and hunger burned in him; then, before he could lift himself, she bent over and began unfastening his boots. <|quote_start|>\"You all right, Bruce? I heard you tossing around.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"I'm fine,\" he told her mechanically. \"Just making plans for tomorrow.\"\n\nHe watched her turn back slowly, then lay quietly, trying not to disturb her again. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he'd find some kind of an answer; and it wouldn't be Randolph's charity.\n\nChapter XV\n\nMURDOCH'S MANTLE\n\nThere were three men, each with a white circle painted on chest and left arm, talking to Mother Corey when Bruce Gordon came down the rickety steps. He stopped for a second, but there was no sign of trouble. Then the words of the thin man below reached him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_49.flac", "original_index": 60}, {"text": "\"Just making plans for tomorrow.\"", "start_byte": 207136, "end_byte": 207169, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1140.3550439453124, "cut_end_time": 1142.3900439453123, "narration": {"text": "Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.", "cut_start_time": 1107.2149609374999, "cut_end_time": 1116.3000234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_50.flac"}, "context": "Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.\n\n\"Bruce!\" Sheila stood outlined in the doorway against the dim glow of a phosphor bulb. Her robe was partly open, and hunger burned in him; then, before he could lift himself, she bent over and began unfastening his boots. \"You all right, Bruce? I heard you tossing around.\"\n\n\"I'm fine,\" he told her mechanically. <|quote_start|>\"Just making plans for tomorrow.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe watched her turn back slowly, then lay quietly, trying not to disturb her again. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he'd find some kind of an answer; and it wouldn't be Randolph's charity.\n\nChapter XV\n\nMURDOCH'S MANTLE\n\nThere were three men, each with a white circle painted on chest and left arm, talking to Mother Corey when Bruce Gordon came down the rickety steps. He stopped for a second, but there was no sign of trouble. Then the words of the thin man below reached him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "mechanically": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_14_delray_64kb_50.flac", "original_index": 62}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b50c589b770b147eb77ceebe3fcdbd93dad34444
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"So we figured when we found the stiffs maybe you'd come back, Mother. Damn good thing we were right. We can sure use that ammunition you found. Now, where's this Gordon fellow?\"", "start_byte": 207649, "end_byte": 207827, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 35.70499877929688, "cut_end_time": 46.840123779296874, "narration": {"text": " Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.", "cut_start_time": 48.2150016784668, "cut_end_time": 55.6900641784668, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "He watched her turn back slowly, then lay quietly, trying not to disturb her again. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he'd find some kind of an answer; and it wouldn't be Randolph's charity.\n\nChapter XV\n\nMURDOCH'S MANTLE\n\nThere were three men, each with a white circle painted on chest and left arm, talking to Mother Corey when Bruce Gordon came down the rickety steps. He stopped for a second, but there was no sign of trouble. Then the words of the thin man below reached him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So we figured when we found the stiffs maybe you'd come back, Mother. Damn good thing we were right. We can sure use that ammunition you found. Now, where's this Gordon fellow?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Here!\" Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.\n\nThe man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now. \"I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?\"\n\n\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,\" Mother Corey told him.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?\"", "start_byte": 208075, "end_byte": 208130, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 66.58499969482422, "cut_end_time": 70.36006219482421, "narration": {"text": "The man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now.", "cut_start_time": 56.605000762939454, "cut_end_time": 66.03000076293945, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "There were three men, each with a white circle painted on chest and left arm, talking to Mother Corey when Bruce Gordon came down the rickety steps. He stopped for a second, but there was no sign of trouble. Then the words of the thin man below reached him.\n\n\"So we figured when we found the stiffs maybe you'd come back, Mother. Damn good thing we were right. We can sure use that ammunition you found. Now, where's this Gordon fellow?\"\n\n\"Here!\" Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.\n\nThe man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now. <|quote_start|>\"I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,\" Mother Corey told him. \"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"\n\n\"What's in it?\" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.\n\nThere was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "weakly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,", "start_byte": 208132, "end_byte": 208236, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 71.59499908447265, "cut_end_time": 77.92012408447265, "narration": {"text": "The man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now.", "cut_start_time": 56.605000762939454, "cut_end_time": 66.03000076293945, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "\"So we figured when we found the stiffs maybe you'd come back, Mother. Damn good thing we were right. We can sure use that ammunition you found. Now, where's this Gordon fellow?\"\n\n\"Here!\" Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.\n\nThe man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now. \"I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> Mother Corey told him. \"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"\n\n\"What's in it?\" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.\n\nThere was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled. \"Heart like a steel trap, cobber,\" he said, almost approvingly.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"", "start_byte": 208261, "end_byte": 208460, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 80.80499877929687, "cut_end_time": 93.37006127929686, "narration": {"text": "The man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now.", "cut_start_time": 56.605000762939454, "cut_end_time": 66.03000076293945, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "\"Here!\" Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.\n\nThe man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now. \"I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?\"\n\n\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,\" Mother Corey told him. <|quote_start|>\"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"What's in it?\" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.\n\nThere was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled. \"Heart like a steel trap, cobber,\" he said, almost approvingly. \"Well, you'll be earning your keep here -- yours and that granddaughter's, too. Here -- you'll need directions for finding Praeger.\"\n\nHe handed the paper with his scrawled notes on it over to Gordon and went shuffling back. Gordon stuck it into his pouch, and followed the three. Outside, they had a truck waiting; Rusty and Corey's two henchmen were busy loading it with ammunition from the cellar.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 4}, {"text": "\"Heart like a steel trap, cobber,", "start_byte": 208604, "end_byte": 208637, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 103.84499938964844, "cut_end_time": 105.78012438964844, "narration": {"text": "Schulberg motioned him into the cab of the truck, and the other two climbed into the closed rear section.", "cut_start_time": 135.40499694824217, "cut_end_time": 140.84012194824217, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber,\" Mother Corey told him. \"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"\n\n\"What's in it?\" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.\n\nThere was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled. <|quote_start|>\"Heart like a steel trap, cobber,\"<|quote_end|> he said, almost approvingly. \"Well, you'll be earning your keep here -- yours and that granddaughter's, too. Here -- you'll need directions for finding Praeger.\"\n\nHe handed the paper with his scrawled notes on it over to Gordon and went shuffling back. Gordon stuck it into his pouch, and followed the three. Outside, they had a truck waiting; Rusty and Corey's two henchmen were busy loading it with ammunition from the cellar.\n\nSchulberg motioned him into the cab of the truck, and the other two climbed into the closed rear section. \"All right,\" Gordon said, \"what goes on?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "approvingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 6}, {"text": "\"Well, you'll be earning your keep here -- yours and that granddaughter's, too. Here -- you'll need directions for finding Praeger.\"", "start_byte": 208668, "end_byte": 208800, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 108.43500183105468, "cut_end_time": 115.39000183105468, "narration": {"text": "Schulberg motioned him into the cab of the truck, and the other two climbed into the closed rear section.", "cut_start_time": 135.40499694824217, "cut_end_time": 140.84012194824217, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\" Mother Corey told him. \"They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there.\"\n\n\"What's in it?\" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.\n\nThere was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled. \"Heart like a steel trap, cobber,\" he said, almost approvingly. <|quote_start|>\"Well, you'll be earning your keep here -- yours and that granddaughter's, too. Here -- you'll need directions for finding Praeger.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe handed the paper with his scrawled notes on it over to Gordon and went shuffling back. Gordon stuck it into his pouch, and followed the three. Outside, they had a truck waiting; Rusty and Corey's two henchmen were busy loading it with ammunition from the cellar.\n\nSchulberg motioned him into the cab of the truck, and the other two climbed into the closed rear section. \"All right,\" Gordon said, \"what goes on?\"\n\nThe other began explaining as he picked a way through the ruin and rubble. Murdoch had done better than Gordon had suspected; he'd laid out a program for a citizens' vigilante committee, and had drilled enough in the ruthless use of the club to keep the gangs down. Once the police were all busy inside the dome with their private war, the committee had been the only means of keeping order in the whole territory beyond. It was now extended to cover about half the area, as a voluntary police organization.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "approvingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Should turn 'em over to us cops,", "start_byte": 209951, "end_byte": 209984, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 193.90499267578124, "cut_end_time": 195.86011767578125, "narration": {"text": "They passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling.", "cut_start_time": 186.19499267578124, "cut_end_time": 193.01005517578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "The other began explaining as he picked a way through the ruin and rubble. Murdoch had done better than Gordon had suspected; he'd laid out a program for a citizens' vigilante committee, and had drilled enough in the ruthless use of the club to keep the gangs down. Once the police were all busy inside the dome with their private war, the committee had been the only means of keeping order in the whole territory beyond. It was now extended to cover about half the area, as a voluntary police organization.\n\nHe pointed outside. It was changed; there were fewer people outside. Gordon had never seen group starvation before....\n\nThey passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling. <|quote_start|>\"Should turn 'em over to us cops,\"<|quote_end|> Schulberg said. \"What's he hanged for?\"\n\n\"Hoarding,\" a voice answered, and others supplied the few details. The dead man had been caught with a half bag of flour and part of a case of beans. Schulberg found a scrap of something and penciled the crime on it, together with a circle signature, and pinned it to the body.\n\n\"All food should be turned in,\" he explained to Gordon as they climbed back into the truck. \"We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"What's he hanged for?\"", "start_byte": 210002, "end_byte": 210025, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 197.85500610351562, "cut_end_time": 199.18006860351562, "narration": {"text": "They passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling.", "cut_start_time": 186.19499267578124, "cut_end_time": 193.01005517578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "The other began explaining as he picked a way through the ruin and rubble. Murdoch had done better than Gordon had suspected; he'd laid out a program for a citizens' vigilante committee, and had drilled enough in the ruthless use of the club to keep the gangs down. Once the police were all busy inside the dome with their private war, the committee had been the only means of keeping order in the whole territory beyond. It was now extended to cover about half the area, as a voluntary police organization.\n\nHe pointed outside. It was changed; there were fewer people outside. Gordon had never seen group starvation before....\n\nThey passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling. \"Should turn 'em over to us cops,\" Schulberg said. <|quote_start|>\"What's he hanged for?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Hoarding,\" a voice answered, and others supplied the few details. The dead man had been caught with a half bag of flour and part of a case of beans. Schulberg found a scrap of something and penciled the crime on it, together with a circle signature, and pinned it to the body.\n\n\"All food should be turned in,\" he explained to Gordon as they climbed back into the truck. \"We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"All food should be turned in,", "start_byte": 210306, "end_byte": 210336, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 217.96499938964843, "cut_end_time": 219.38006188964843, "narration": {"text": "They passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling.", "cut_start_time": 186.19499267578124, "cut_end_time": 193.01005517578125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "They passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling. \"Should turn 'em over to us cops,\" Schulberg said. \"What's he hanged for?\"\n\n\"Hoarding,\" a voice answered, and others supplied the few details. The dead man had been caught with a half bag of flour and part of a case of beans. Schulberg found a scrap of something and penciled the crime on it, together with a circle signature, and pinned it to the body.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"All food should be turned in,\"<|quote_end|> he explained to Gordon as they climbed back into the truck. \"We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up.\"\n\nHe passed over a bag filled with a collection of small bills and coins. \"We can trust you, I guess", "narrative_information_pred": {"explained": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"We can trust you, I guess,", "start_byte": 210787, "end_byte": 210814, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 248.82499572753906, "cut_end_time": 250.14005822753904, "narration": {"text": " Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine.", "cut_start_time": 290.67499755859376, "cut_end_time": 296.12006005859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\" he explained to Gordon as they climbed back into the truck. \"We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up.\"\n\nHe passed over a bag filled with a collection of small bills and coins. <|quote_start|>\"We can trust you, I guess,\"<|quote_end|> he said dully. \"Remember you with Murdoch, anyhow. And you can tell Praeger we got plenty of men looking for work, in case he can use 'em.\"\n\nHe pulled up to shout a report through the big Marspeaker as they passed the old building Murdoch had used as a precinct house. It now had a crude sign proclaiming it voluntary police HQ and outland government center. Then he went on until they came to a spur of the little electric monorail system, with three abandoned service engines parked at the end.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "dully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Remember you with Murdoch, anyhow. And you can tell Praeger we got plenty of men looking for work, in case he can use 'em.\"", "start_byte": 210831, "end_byte": 210955, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 252.13499755859374, "cut_end_time": 258.40012255859375, "narration": {"text": " Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine.", "cut_start_time": 290.67499755859376, "cut_end_time": 296.12006005859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up.\"\n\nHe passed over a bag filled with a collection of small bills and coins. \"We can trust you, I guess,\" he said dully. <|quote_start|>\"Remember you with Murdoch, anyhow. And you can tell Praeger we got plenty of men looking for work, in case he can use 'em.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe pulled up to shout a report through the big Marspeaker as they passed the old building Murdoch had used as a precinct house. It now had a crude sign proclaiming it voluntary police HQ and outland government center. Then he went on until they came to a spur of the little electric monorail system, with three abandoned service engines parked at the end.\n\n\"Extra air inside, and the best we could do for food. Was gonna try myself, but I don't know Praeger,\" Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "dully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"Extra air inside, and the best we could do for food. Was gonna try myself, but I don't know Praeger,", "start_byte": 211314, "end_byte": 211415, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 283.3350122070313, "cut_end_time": 290.3000122070313, "narration": {"text": " Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine.", "cut_start_time": 290.67499755859376, "cut_end_time": 296.12006005859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"Remember you with Murdoch, anyhow. And you can tell Praeger we got plenty of men looking for work, in case he can use 'em.\"\n\nHe pulled up to shout a report through the big Marspeaker as they passed the old building Murdoch had used as a precinct house. It now had a crude sign proclaiming it voluntary police HQ and outland government center. Then he went on until they came to a spur of the little electric monorail system, with three abandoned service engines parked at the end.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Extra air inside, and the best we could do for food. Was gonna try myself, but I don't know Praeger,\"<|quote_end|> Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine. \"Good luck, Gordon -- and damn it, we're -- we gotta eat, don't we? You tell him that! It ain't much -- but get what you can!\"\n\nHe swung the truck, and was gone. Gordon climbed into the enclosed cab and pulled back questioningly on the only lever he could see. The engine backed briefly; he reversed the control. Then it moved forward, picking up speed. Apparently there was still power flowing in from the automatic atomic generators.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"Good luck, Gordon -- and damn it, we're -- we gotta eat, don't we? You tell him that! It ain't much -- but get what you can!\"", "start_byte": 211499, "end_byte": 211625, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 296.9449975585938, "cut_end_time": 308.03012255859375, "narration": {"text": " Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine.", "cut_start_time": 290.67499755859376, "cut_end_time": 296.12006005859377, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "He pulled up to shout a report through the big Marspeaker as they passed the old building Murdoch had used as a precinct house. It now had a crude sign proclaiming it voluntary police HQ and outland government center. Then he went on until they came to a spur of the little electric monorail system, with three abandoned service engines parked at the end.\n\n\"Extra air inside, and the best we could do for food. Was gonna try myself, but I don't know Praeger,\" Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine. <|quote_start|>\"Good luck, Gordon -- and damn it, we're -- we gotta eat, don't we? You tell him that! It ain't much -- but get what you can!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe swung the truck, and was gone. Gordon climbed into the enclosed cab and pulled back questioningly on the only lever he could see. The engine backed briefly; he reversed the control. Then it moved forward, picking up speed. Apparently there was still power flowing in from the automatic atomic generators.\n\nHe got off to puzzle out a switch, using Mother Corey's scrawled instructions.\n\nHe had vaguely expected to see more of Mars, but for eight hours there was only the bare flatness and dunes of unending sandy surface and scraggly, useless native plants, opened out to the sun. Marsport had been located where the only vein of uranium had been found on Mars, and the growing section was closer to the equator.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"You won't find Praeger on his farm -- couldn't reach it in that, anyhow,", "start_byte": 212793, "end_byte": 212866, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 392.2250134277344, "cut_end_time": 396.5000134277344, "narration": {"text": "He got off to puzzle out a switch, using Mother Corey's scrawled instructions.", "cut_start_time": 332.415, "cut_end_time": 336.96000000000004, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "He had vaguely expected to see more of Mars, but for eight hours there was only the bare flatness and dunes of unending sandy surface and scraggly, useless native plants, opened out to the sun. Marsport had been located where the only vein of uranium had been found on Mars, and the growing section was closer to the equator.\n\nThen he came to villages. Again there was the sight of children running around without helmets. He stopped once for directions, and a man stared at him suspiciously and finally threw a switch reluctantly.\n\nHe was finally forced to stop again, sure that he was near, now. This time, it was in what seemed to be a major shipping center in the heart of the lines that ran helter-skelter from village to village. Another suspicious-eyed man studied him. <|quote_start|>\"You won't find Praeger on his farm -- couldn't reach it in that, anyhow,\"<|quote_end|> he said finally. Then he turned up his Marspeaker. \"Ed! Hey, Ed!\"\n\nDown the street, the seal of a building opened, and the big, bluff figure of Praeger came out. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Gordon; then he grinned and waved his visitor forward.\n\nInside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"Ed! Hey, Ed!\"", "start_byte": 212919, "end_byte": 212933, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 400.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 402.8501176757813, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "Then he came to villages. Again there was the sight of children running around without helmets. He stopped once for directions, and a man stared at him suspiciously and finally threw a switch reluctantly.\n\nHe was finally forced to stop again, sure that he was near, now. This time, it was in what seemed to be a major shipping center in the heart of the lines that ran helter-skelter from village to village. Another suspicious-eyed man studied him. \"You won't find Praeger on his farm -- couldn't reach it in that, anyhow,\" he said finally. Then he turned up his Marspeaker. <|quote_start|>\"Ed! Hey, Ed!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nDown the street, the seal of a building opened, and the big, bluff figure of Praeger came out. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Gordon; then he grinned and waved his visitor forward.\n\nInside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.\n\nPraeger seemed to read his mind. \"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"", "start_byte": 213364, "end_byte": 213615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 432.08500122070313, "cut_end_time": 446.90000122070313, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"Ed! Hey, Ed!\"\n\nDown the street, the seal of a building opened, and the big, bluff figure of Praeger came out. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Gordon; then he grinned and waved his visitor forward.\n\nInside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.\n\nPraeger seemed to read his mind. <|quote_start|>\"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Ever see starvation?\" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. \"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"\n\n\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"seemed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Ever see starvation?", "start_byte": 213617, "end_byte": 213638, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 447.6149853515625, "cut_end_time": 448.8201103515625, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "Inside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.\n\nPraeger seemed to read his mind. \"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Ever see starvation?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. \"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"\n\n\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"", "start_byte": 213826, "end_byte": 213883, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 461.90501464843754, "cut_end_time": 464.5800146484375, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "\"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"\n\n\"Ever see starvation?\" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. <|quote_start|>\"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"\n\nGordon sat back weakly. \"Done!\" he said. \"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"\n\n\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"", "start_byte": 213885, "end_byte": 214151, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 465.16498779296876, "cut_end_time": 481.4700502929688, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "\"I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?\"\n\n\"Ever see starvation?\" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. \"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon sat back weakly. \"Done!\" he said. \"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"\n\n\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\" He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. \"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sat": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}, "weakly": {"id": "2", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"", "start_byte": 214194, "end_byte": 214278, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 486.0849877929688, "cut_end_time": 490.00005029296875, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "\" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. \"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"\n\n\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"\n\nGordon sat back weakly. \"Done!\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\" He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. \"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. \"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.", "start_byte": 214280, "end_byte": 214380, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 491.17498779296875, "cut_end_time": 495.9101127929688, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "\"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?\"\n\n\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"\n\nGordon sat back weakly. \"Done!\" he said. \"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\"<|quote_end|> He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. \"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. \"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"\n\n\"They will,\" Praeger said. \"You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"", "start_byte": 214452, "end_byte": 214571, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 501.20500122070314, "cut_end_time": 507.05000122070317, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands.\"\n\nGordon sat back weakly. \"Done!\" he said. \"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"\n\n\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\" He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. <|quote_start|>\"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. \"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"\n\n\"They will,\" Praeger said. \"You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how.\"\n\nHis voice was a mixture of bitterness and an odd certainty. \"They set Security up as a nice little debating society, Gordon, to make it easy for North America to grab the planets by doing it through that Agency. Only they got better men on it than they wanted. So far, Security has played one nation against another enough to keep any from daring to swipe power on the planets. And this latest trick folded up, too. North America figured on Marsport folding up once they got a police war started, with a bunch of chiseling profiteers as their front; they expected the citizens to yell uncle all the way back to Earth. But out here, nobody thinks of Earth as a place to yell to for help, so they missed. And now Security's got Pan-Asia and United Africa balanced against North America, so the swipe won't work. We got the dope from our southern receiver. North America's called it all a mistaken emergency measure and turned it back to Security.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"tossed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"", "start_byte": 214626, "end_byte": 214705, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 510.55498535156255, "cut_end_time": 514.8801103515625, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought.\"\n\n\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\" He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. \"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. <|quote_start|>\"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"They will,\" Praeger said. \"You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how.\"\n\nHis voice was a mixture of bitterness and an odd certainty. \"They set Security up as a nice little debating society, Gordon, to make it easy for North America to grab the planets by doing it through that Agency. Only they got better men on it than they wanted. So far, Security has played one nation against another enough to keep any from daring to swipe power on the planets. And this latest trick folded up, too. North America figured on Marsport folding up once they got a police war started, with a bunch of chiseling profiteers as their front; they expected the citizens to yell uncle all the way back to Earth. But out here, nobody thinks of Earth as a place to yell to for help, so they missed. And now Security's got Pan-Asia and United Africa balanced against North America, so the swipe won't work. We got the dope from our southern receiver. North America's called it all a mistaken emergency measure and turned it back to Security.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how.\"", "start_byte": 214734, "end_byte": 214900, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 517.3349951171875, "cut_end_time": 527.7600576171875, "narration": {"text": " He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted.", "cut_start_time": 496.41500366210937, "cut_end_time": 499.9500661621094, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it.\" He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. \"A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out.\"\n\nGordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. \"What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet.\"\n\n\"They will,\" Praeger said. <|quote_start|>\"You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHis voice was a mixture of bitterness and an odd certainty. \"They set Security up as a nice little debating society, Gordon, to make it easy for North America to grab the planets by doing it through that Agency. Only they got better men on it than they wanted. So far, Security has played one nation against another enough to keep any from daring to swipe power on the planets. And this latest trick folded up, too. North America figured on Marsport folding up once they got a police war started, with a bunch of chiseling profiteers as their front; they expected the citizens to yell uncle all the way back to Earth. But out here, nobody thinks of Earth as a place to yell to for help, so they missed. And now Security's got Pan-Asia and United Africa balanced against North America, so the swipe won't work. We got the dope from our southern receiver. North America's called it all a mistaken emergency measure and turned it back to Security.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 31}, {"text": "\"Along with how many war rockets?", "start_byte": 215849, "end_byte": 215882, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 592.105009765625, "cut_end_time": 593.700009765625, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on.", "cut_start_time": 694.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 697.4900268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "\"They set Security up as a nice little debating society, Gordon, to make it easy for North America to grab the planets by doing it through that Agency. Only they got better men on it than they wanted. So far, Security has played one nation against another enough to keep any from daring to swipe power on the planets. And this latest trick folded up, too. North America figured on Marsport folding up once they got a police war started, with a bunch of chiseling profiteers as their front; they expected the citizens to yell uncle all the way back to Earth. But out here, nobody thinks of Earth as a place to yell to for help, so they missed. And now Security's got Pan-Asia and United Africa balanced against North America, so the swipe won't work. We got the dope from our southern receiver. North America's called it all a mistaken emergency measure and turned it back to Security.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Along with how many war rockets?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked.\n\n\"None. They never gave any real power, never will. The only strength Security's ever had comes from the fact that it always wins, somehow. Forget the crooks and crooked cops, man! Ask the people who've been getting kicked around about Security, and you'll find that even most of Marsport doesn't hate it! It's the only hope we've got of not having all the planets turned into colonial empires! You staying over, or want me to give you an engineer and drag car so you can ride back in comfort?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 33}, {"text": "\"I'll take the drag car.\"", "start_byte": 216587, "end_byte": 216612, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 643.3350219726562, "cut_end_time": 644.6500219726563, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on.", "cut_start_time": 694.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 697.4900268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"None. They never gave any real power, never will. The only strength Security's ever had comes from the fact that it always wins, somehow. Forget the crooks and crooked cops, man! Ask the people who've been getting kicked around about Security, and you'll find that even most of Marsport doesn't hate it! It's the only hope we've got of not having all the planets turned into colonial empires! You staying over, or want me to give you an engineer and drag car so you can ride back in comfort?\"\n\nGordon stared at the room, where almost everything was a product of the planet, at Praeger, and at the girl. Here was the real Mars -- the men who liked it here, who were sure of their future. <|quote_start|>\"I'll take the drag car.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe found Randolph waiting in a scooter outside the precinct house after he'd reported his results. He climbed in woodenly, leaving his helmet on as he saw the broken window. \"A good job,\" the little man said. \"And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy.\"\n\n\"Doing what?\" Gordon asked.\n\nRandolph grinned crookedly. \"Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 35}, {"text": "\"And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy.\"", "start_byte": 216834, "end_byte": 216966, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 660.6450244140625, "cut_end_time": 668.8900869140625, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on.", "cut_start_time": 694.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 697.4900268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "Gordon stared at the room, where almost everything was a product of the planet, at Praeger, and at the girl. Here was the real Mars -- the men who liked it here, who were sure of their future. \"I'll take the drag car.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe found Randolph waiting in a scooter outside the precinct house after he'd reported his results. He climbed in woodenly, leaving his helmet on as he saw the broken window. \"A good job,\" the little man said. <|quote_start|>\"And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Doing what?\" Gordon asked.\n\nRandolph grinned crookedly. \"Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on. \"He must have had his supply of drugs lifted somehow. He holed up one day, until it really hit him that he couldn't get any more. Then he went gunning for Trench, with some idea Trench had swiped the stuff -- so Trench is now running the Municipals. And I hear the gangs are just about in control of both sections, lately.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?\"", "start_byte": 217025, "end_byte": 217311, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 674.2150170898437, "cut_end_time": 692.9900795898437, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on.", "cut_start_time": 694.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 697.4900268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "\"I'll take the drag car.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nHe found Randolph waiting in a scooter outside the precinct house after he'd reported his results. He climbed in woodenly, leaving his helmet on as he saw the broken window. \"A good job,\" the little man said. \"And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy.\"\n\n\"Doing what?\" Gordon asked.\n\nRandolph grinned crookedly. <|quote_start|>\"Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on. \"He must have had his supply of drugs lifted somehow. He holed up one day, until it really hit him that he couldn't get any more. Then he went gunning for Trench, with some idea Trench had swiped the stuff -- so Trench is now running the Municipals. And I hear the gangs are just about in control of both sections, lately.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe Chicken Coop was filled, as Randolph had said, but he slipped in and up the stairs, leaving the news to the publisher. The place had been cleaned up more than he had expected, and there must have been new plants installed beside the blower, since the air was somewhat fresher.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"He must have had his supply of drugs lifted somehow. He holed up one day, until it really hit him that he couldn't get any more. Then he went gunning for Trench, with some idea Trench had swiped the stuff -- so Trench is now running the Municipals. And I hear the gangs are just about in control of both sections, lately.\"", "start_byte": 217369, "end_byte": 217692, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 698.3749829101563, "cut_end_time": 717.8100454101562, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on.", "cut_start_time": 694.1150268554687, "cut_end_time": 697.4900268554687, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy.\"\n\n\"Doing what?\" Gordon asked.\n\nRandolph grinned crookedly. \"Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?\"\n\nGordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on. <|quote_start|>\"He must have had his supply of drugs lifted somehow. He holed up one day, until it really hit him that he couldn't get any more. Then he went gunning for Trench, with some idea Trench had swiped the stuff -- so Trench is now running the Municipals. And I hear the gangs are just about in control of both sections, lately.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe Chicken Coop was filled, as Randolph had said, but he slipped in and up the stairs, leaving the news to the publisher. The place had been cleaned up more than he had expected, and there must have been new plants installed beside the blower, since the air was somewhat fresher.\n\nHe found his own room, and turned in automatically...\n\n\"Bruce?\" A dim light snapped on, and he stared down at Sheila. Then he blinked. His bunk had been changed to a wider one, and she lay under the thin covering on one side. Down the center, crude stitches of heavy cord showed where she had sewed the blanket to the mattress to divide it into two sections. And in one corner, a couple of blanket sections formed a rough screen.", "narrative_information_pred": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"Forget all you're thinking, Cuddles. I'm still not bothering unwilling women -- and I'll even close my eyes when you dress.\"", "start_byte": 218800, "end_byte": 218925, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 798.2750268554688, "cut_end_time": 805.5600268554688, "narration": {"text": "She caught his stare and reddened slowly. \"I had to, Bruce. The Coop is full, and they needed rooms -- and I couldn't tell them that -- that -- \"", "cut_start_time": 770.3749926757813, "cut_end_time": 780.2901176757813, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "\"Bruce?\" A dim light snapped on, and he stared down at Sheila. Then he blinked. His bunk had been changed to a wider one, and she lay under the thin covering on one side. Down the center, crude stitches of heavy cord showed where she had sewed the blanket to the mattress to divide it into two sections. And in one corner, a couple of blanket sections formed a rough screen.\n\nShe caught his stare and reddened slowly. \"I had to, Bruce. The Coop is full, and they needed rooms -- and I couldn't tell them that -- that -- \"\n\n\"Forget it,\" he told her. He dropped to his own side, with barely enough room to slide between the bed and the wall, and began dragging off his boots and uniform. She started up to help him, then jerked back, and turned her head away. <|quote_start|>\"Forget all you're thinking, Cuddles. I'm still not bothering unwilling women -- and I'll even close my eyes when you dress.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe sighed, and relaxed. There was a faint touch of humor in her voice then. \"They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!\"\n\n\"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here,\" he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.", "narrative_information_pred": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!\"", "start_byte": 219004, "end_byte": 219180, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 811.8350024414062, "cut_end_time": 825.8700024414063, "narration": {"text": " he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.", "cut_start_time": 833.5750292968751, "cut_end_time": 841.140091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "\"Forget it,\" he told her. He dropped to his own side, with barely enough room to slide between the bed and the wall, and began dragging off his boots and uniform. She started up to help him, then jerked back, and turned her head away. \"Forget all you're thinking, Cuddles. I'm still not bothering unwilling women -- and I'll even close my eyes when you dress.\"\n\nShe sighed, and relaxed. There was a faint touch of humor in her voice then. <|quote_start|>\"They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here,\" he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.\n\nShe dropped a hand onto his, nodding. \"I know. The Kid -- Rusty's friend -- wrote down what they did to him.\"\n\nGordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here,", "start_byte": 219182, "end_byte": 219287, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 827.0349975585938, "cut_end_time": 833.1501225585938, "narration": {"text": " he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.", "cut_start_time": 833.5750292968751, "cut_end_time": 841.140091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "\"Forget it,\" he told her. He dropped to his own side, with barely enough room to slide between the bed and the wall, and began dragging off his boots and uniform. She started up to help him, then jerked back, and turned her head away. \"Forget all you're thinking, Cuddles. I'm still not bothering unwilling women -- and I'll even close my eyes when you dress.\"\n\nShe sighed, and relaxed. There was a faint touch of humor in her voice then. \"They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here,\"<|quote_end|> he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.\n\nShe dropped a hand onto his, nodding. \"I know. The Kid -- Rusty's friend -- wrote down what they did to him.\"\n\nGordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 45}, {"text": "\"I know. The Kid -- Rusty's friend -- wrote down what they did to him.\"", "start_byte": 219456, "end_byte": 219527, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 844.7249975585938, "cut_end_time": 848.7901225585938, "narration": {"text": " he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.", "cut_start_time": 833.5750292968751, "cut_end_time": 841.140091796875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "\"They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!\"\n\n\"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here,\" he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.\n\nShe dropped a hand onto his, nodding. <|quote_start|>\"I know. The Kid -- Rusty's friend -- wrote down what they did to him.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.\n\nThey looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodding": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 46}, {"text": "\"I'm declaring myself in!", "start_byte": 220036, "end_byte": 220061, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 883.7349853515625, "cut_end_time": 885.1801103515626, "narration": {"text": "They looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them.", "cut_start_time": 876.2749975585938, "cut_end_time": 882.8400600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "Gordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.\n\nThey looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them. <|quote_start|>\"I'm declaring myself in!\"<|quote_end|> he told them coldly. \"You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?\"\n\nRandolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded. \"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"\n\n\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "coldly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\"You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?\"", "start_byte": 220084, "end_byte": 220256, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 887.3549829101563, "cut_end_time": 898.7700454101563, "narration": {"text": "They looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them.", "cut_start_time": 876.2749975585938, "cut_end_time": 882.8400600585937, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "Gordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.\n\nThey looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them. \"I'm declaring myself in!\" he told them coldly. <|quote_start|>\"You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nRandolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded. \"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"\n\n\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!\" With that -- about the only supply of any size left -- he could command unquestioning loyalty from every addict who hadn't already died from lack of it. Mother Corey nodded, instant understanding running over his puttylike face.", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "coldly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"", "start_byte": 220364, "end_byte": 220430, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 907.1349975585938, "cut_end_time": 911.3500600585937, "narration": {"text": "Randolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded.", "cut_start_time": 899.62498046875, "cut_end_time": 906.13004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "They looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them. \"I'm declaring myself in!\" he told them coldly. \"You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?\"\n\nRandolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded. <|quote_start|>\"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!\" With that -- about the only supply of any size left -- he could command unquestioning loyalty from every addict who hadn't already died from lack of it. Mother Corey nodded, instant understanding running over his puttylike face.\n\nSchulberg shrugged. \"After your deal with Praeger, we'd probably follow you anyhow. I don't cotton to Security, Gordon -- but those devils in there are making our kids starve!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!", "start_byte": 220432, "end_byte": 220589, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 912.8149951171876, "cut_end_time": 921.9201201171875, "narration": {"text": "Randolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded.", "cut_start_time": 899.62498046875, "cut_end_time": 906.13004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "They looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them. \"I'm declaring myself in!\" he told them coldly. \"You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?\"\n\nRandolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded. \"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!\"<|quote_end|> With that -- about the only supply of any size left -- he could command unquestioning loyalty from every addict who hadn't already died from lack of it. Mother Corey nodded, instant understanding running over his puttylike face.\n\nSchulberg shrugged. \"After your deal with Praeger, we'd probably follow you anyhow. I don't cotton to Security, Gordon -- but those devils in there are making our kids starve!\"\n\nMother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.", "narrative_information_pred": {"With": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"After your deal with Praeger, we'd probably follow you anyhow. I don't cotton to Security, Gordon -- but those devils in there are making our kids starve!\"", "start_byte": 220841, "end_byte": 220997, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 941.0750048828126, "cut_end_time": 950.4100673828125, "narration": {"text": "Randolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded.", "cut_start_time": 899.62498046875, "cut_end_time": 906.13004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss.\"\n\n\"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!\" With that -- about the only supply of any size left -- he could command unquestioning loyalty from every addict who hadn't already died from lack of it. Mother Corey nodded, instant understanding running over his puttylike face.\n\nSchulberg shrugged. <|quote_start|>\"After your deal with Praeger, we'd probably follow you anyhow. I don't cotton to Security, Gordon -- but those devils in there are making our kids starve!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nMother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.\n\nSheila was staring at him as he shucked off his outer clothes mechanically and crawled under the blanket. She let the robe fall to the floor and slid into the bed without taking her eyes off him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shrugged": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"Is it true about Security sending a ship?", "start_byte": 221485, "end_byte": 221527, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 981.5049780273438, "cut_end_time": 983.6101030273438, "narration": {"text": "Randolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded.", "cut_start_time": 899.62498046875, "cut_end_time": 906.13004296875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.\n\nSheila was staring at him as he shucked off his outer clothes mechanically and crawled under the blanket. She let the robe fall to the floor and slid into the bed without taking her eyes off him. <|quote_start|>\"Is it true about Security sending a ship?\"<|quote_end|> she asked at last. He nodded, and her breath caught. \"What happens when they arrive, Bruce?\"\n\nShe was shivering. He rolled over and patted her shoulder. \"Who knows? Who cares? I'll see that they know you weren't guilty, though. Stop worrying about it.\"\n\nShe threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket. \"Damn you, Bruce Gordon. I should have killed you!\"\n\nChapter XVI", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 52}, {"text": "\"What happens when they arrive, Bruce?\"", "start_byte": 221582, "end_byte": 221621, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 988.554990234375, "cut_end_time": 990.280052734375, "narration": {"text": " she asked at last. He nodded, and her breath caught.", "cut_start_time": 983.9250048828126, "cut_end_time": 988.0100048828125, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.\n\nSheila was staring at him as he shucked off his outer clothes mechanically and crawled under the blanket. She let the robe fall to the floor and slid into the bed without taking her eyes off him. \"Is it true about Security sending a ship?\" she asked at last. He nodded, and her breath caught. <|quote_start|>\"What happens when they arrive, Bruce?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe was shivering. He rolled over and patted her shoulder. \"Who knows? Who cares? I'll see that they know you weren't guilty, though. Stop worrying about it.\"\n\nShe threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket. \"Damn you, Bruce Gordon. I should have killed you!\"\n\nChapter XVI\n\nGET THE DOME!\n\nTo Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\"Who knows? Who cares? I'll see that they know you weren't guilty, though. Stop worrying about it.\"", "start_byte": 221682, "end_byte": 221781, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 995.2449780273438, "cut_end_time": 1002.4200405273438, "narration": {"text": "She threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket.", "cut_start_time": 1003.4250000000001, "cut_end_time": 1010.8700625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.\n\nSheila was staring at him as he shucked off his outer clothes mechanically and crawled under the blanket. She let the robe fall to the floor and slid into the bed without taking her eyes off him. \"Is it true about Security sending a ship?\" she asked at last. He nodded, and her breath caught. \"What happens when they arrive, Bruce?\"\n\nShe was shivering. He rolled over and patted her shoulder. <|quote_start|>\"Who knows? Who cares? I'll see that they know you weren't guilty, though. Stop worrying about it.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket. \"Damn you, Bruce Gordon. I should have killed you!\"\n\nChapter XVI\n\nGET THE DOME!\n\nTo Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.", "narrative_information_pred": {"rolled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "patted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_15_delray_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 54}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..09bf74af451c44fa2e1e76e6aaed590f1c3de814
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"Why didn't you tell me you were a Security Prime! I'm grade three myself.\"", "start_byte": 222394, "end_byte": 222469, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 47.42500091552734, "cut_end_time": 51.640000915527345, "narration": {"text": "Praeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him.", "cut_start_time": 42.00499832153321, "cut_end_time": 46.350123321533204, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "She threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket. \"Damn you, Bruce Gordon. I should have killed you!\"\n\nChapter XVI\n\nGET THE DOME!\n\nTo Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.\n\nPraeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him. <|quote_start|>\"Why didn't you tell me you were a Security Prime! I'm grade three myself.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"And I suppose that would have meant you'd have shipped in all the food we needed free?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe other stopped to think it over. Then he laughed roughly. \"Nope. You're right. The growers would starve next year if they gave it all away now. Well, we'll get in enough food this way to keep you going for a while -- couple of weeks, at least.\"\n\nIt sounded good, and might have worked if there had been the normal food reserve, or if the other three quadrants had been willing to do as much. But while the immediate pressure of starvation was lifted, Gordon's own stomach told him that it wasn't an adequate diet. Signs of scurvy and pellagra were increasing.", "narrative_information_pred": {"storming": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"And I suppose that would have meant you'd have shipped in all the food we needed free?", "start_byte": 222471, "end_byte": 222558, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 52.764998779296874, "cut_end_time": 56.950123779296874, "narration": {"text": "Praeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him.", "cut_start_time": 42.00499832153321, "cut_end_time": 46.350123321533204, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "To Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.\n\nPraeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him. \"Why didn't you tell me you were a Security Prime! I'm grade three myself.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"And I suppose that would have meant you'd have shipped in all the food we needed free?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked.\n\nThe other stopped to think it over. Then he laughed roughly. \"Nope. You're right. The growers would starve next year if they gave it all away now. Well, we'll get in enough food this way to keep you going for a while -- couple of weeks, at least.\"\n\nIt sounded good, and might have worked if there had been the normal food reserve, or if the other three quadrants had been willing to do as much. But while the immediate pressure of starvation was lifted, Gordon's own stomach told him that it wasn't an adequate diet. Signs of scurvy and pellagra were increasing.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Nope. You're right. The growers would starve next year if they gave it all away now. Well, we'll get in enough food this way to keep you going for a while -- couple of weeks, at least.\"", "start_byte": 222636, "end_byte": 222822, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 63.54499862670899, "cut_end_time": 75.53012362670898, "narration": {"text": "A big Marspeaker ran out from the gate, and the voice of Gannett came over it.", "cut_start_time": 150.53499633789062, "cut_end_time": 155.38005883789063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "To Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.\n\nPraeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him. \"Why didn't you tell me you were a Security Prime! I'm grade three myself.\"\n\n\"And I suppose that would have meant you'd have shipped in all the food we needed free?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe other stopped to think it over. Then he laughed roughly. <|quote_start|>\"Nope. You're right. The growers would starve next year if they gave it all away now. Well, we'll get in enough food this way to keep you going for a while -- couple of weeks, at least.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nIt sounded good, and might have worked if there had been the normal food reserve, or if the other three quadrants had been willing to do as much. But while the immediate pressure of starvation was lifted, Gordon's own stomach told him that it wasn't an adequate diet. Signs of scurvy and pellagra were increasing.\n\nBruce Gordon whipped himself into forgetting some of that. His army was growing. Or rather, his mob. There was no sense in trying to get more than the vaguest organization.", "narrative_information_pred": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "roughly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Go back! If just one of you gets within ten feet of the dome or entrance, we're going to rip the dome! We'll destroy Marsport before we'll give in to a doped-up crowd of riffraff! You've got five minutes to get out of sight, before we come out with rifles and knock you off! Now beat it!\"", "start_byte": 223961, "end_byte": 224250, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 156.43499694824217, "cut_end_time": 174.9600594482422, "narration": {"text": "Gordon got out of the car the Kid was driving and started toward the entrance, just as the moaning wail of the crowd behind him built up.", "cut_start_time": 176.79499572753906, "cut_end_time": 184.90012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "There were no rifles opposed to him, as he had expected, and the guard at the gate was no heavier. But the warning had somehow been given, and both forces were ready.\n\nStretching north from the gate were the Municipals with members of some of the gangs; the other gangmen were with the Legals to the south. And they stood within inches of the dome, holding axes and knives.\n\nA big Marspeaker ran out from the gate, and the voice of Gannett came over it. <|quote_start|>\"Go back! If just one of you gets within ten feet of the dome or entrance, we're going to rip the dome! We'll destroy Marsport before we'll give in to a doped-up crowd of riffraff! You've got five minutes to get out of sight, before we come out with rifles and knock you off! Now beat it!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon got out of the car the Kid was driving and started toward the entrance, just as the moaning wail of the crowd behind him built up.\n\n\"You fools!\" he yelled. \"They're bluffing. They wouldn't dare destroy the dome! Come on!\"\n\nBut already the men were evaporating. He stared at the rout, and suddenly stopped fighting the hands holding him. Beside him, the Kid was crying, making horrible sounds of it. He turned slowly back to the car, and felt it get under way. His final sight was that of the Legals and Municipals wildly scrambling for cover from each other.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"They're bluffing. They wouldn't dare destroy the dome! Come on!\"", "start_byte": 224415, "end_byte": 224480, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 187.55500061035156, "cut_end_time": 191.32000061035157, "narration": {"text": "Gordon got out of the car the Kid was driving and started toward the entrance, just as the moaning wail of the crowd behind him built up.", "cut_start_time": 176.79499572753906, "cut_end_time": 184.90012072753905, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"Go back! If just one of you gets within ten feet of the dome or entrance, we're going to rip the dome! We'll destroy Marsport before we'll give in to a doped-up crowd of riffraff! You've got five minutes to get out of sight, before we come out with rifles and knock you off! Now beat it!\"\n\nGordon got out of the car the Kid was driving and started toward the entrance, just as the moaning wail of the crowd behind him built up.\n\n\"You fools!\" he yelled. <|quote_start|>\"They're bluffing. They wouldn't dare destroy the dome! Come on!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBut already the men were evaporating. He stared at the rout, and suddenly stopped fighting the hands holding him. Beside him, the Kid was crying, making horrible sounds of it. He turned slowly back to the car, and felt it get under way. His final sight was that of the Legals and Municipals wildly scrambling for cover from each other.\n\nMother Corey met him, dragging him back to a small room where he dug up an impossibly precious bottle of brandy. \"Drink it all, cobber. So one of your Security badges had the wrong man attached to it, and word got back. Couldn't be helped. You just ran into the sacred law of Marsport -- the one they teach kids. Be bad, and the dome'll collapse. The dome made Marsport, and it's taboo!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"yelled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"If the dome gives them a perfect cover, why let me make a jackass of myself, Mother?", "start_byte": 225252, "end_byte": 225337, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 255.4249981689453, "cut_end_time": 260.7101231689453, "narration": {"text": "Corey shook his head, setting the heavy folds of flesh to bouncing.", "cut_start_time": 264.6049938964844, "cut_end_time": 268.8301188964844, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "Mother Corey met him, dragging him back to a small room where he dug up an impossibly precious bottle of brandy. \"Drink it all, cobber. So one of your Security badges had the wrong man attached to it, and word got back. Couldn't be helped. You just ran into the sacred law of Marsport -- the one they teach kids. Be bad, and the dome'll collapse. The dome made Marsport, and it's taboo!\"\n\nGordon nodded. Maybe the old man was right. <|quote_start|>\"If the dome gives them a perfect cover, why let me make a jackass of myself, Mother?\"<|quote_end|> he asked numbly.\n\nCorey shook his head, setting the heavy folds of flesh to bouncing. \"Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!\"\n\nHe left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.\n\n\"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "numbly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!\"", "start_byte": 225425, "end_byte": 225599, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 269.7050024414063, "cut_end_time": 281.19000244140625, "narration": {"text": "He left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.", "cut_start_time": 281.93499755859375, "cut_end_time": 290.6801225585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "\"Drink it all, cobber. So one of your Security badges had the wrong man attached to it, and word got back. Couldn't be helped. You just ran into the sacred law of Marsport -- the one they teach kids. Be bad, and the dome'll collapse. The dome made Marsport, and it's taboo!\"\n\nGordon nodded. Maybe the old man was right. \"If the dome gives them a perfect cover, why let me make a jackass of myself, Mother?\" he asked numbly.\n\nCorey shook his head, setting the heavy folds of flesh to bouncing. <|quote_start|>\"Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.\n\n\"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!\"\n\nGordon stood up, wobbling a little, trying to think. Then he swore, and headed for his room. \"Tell him to go to hell!\"\n\nHe saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 8}, {"text": "\"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!\"", "start_byte": 225726, "end_byte": 225841, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 291.74501220703127, "cut_end_time": 299.7900122070313, "narration": {"text": "He left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.", "cut_start_time": 281.93499755859375, "cut_end_time": 290.6801225585938, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "\"If the dome gives them a perfect cover, why let me make a jackass of myself, Mother?\" he asked numbly.\n\nCorey shook his head, setting the heavy folds of flesh to bouncing. \"Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!\"\n\nHe left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon stood up, wobbling a little, trying to think. Then he swore, and headed for his room. \"Tell him to go to hell!\"\n\nHe saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.\n\nSheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"Tell him to go to hell!\"", "start_byte": 225936, "end_byte": 225961, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 308.2149914550781, "cut_end_time": 309.53005395507813, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!\"\n\nHe left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.\n\n\"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!\"\n\nGordon stood up, wobbling a little, trying to think. Then he swore, and headed for his room. <|quote_start|>\"Tell him to go to hell!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.\n\nSheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"What did Trench want?", "start_byte": 226446, "end_byte": 226468, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 346.62499023437505, "cut_end_time": 347.91005273437503, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "He saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.\n\nSheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"What did Trench want?\"<|quote_end|> he asked thickly.\n\n\"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him,\" she answered. \"At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- \"\n\nGordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...\n\n\"All right, Cuddles,\" he said finally.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thickly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 11}, {"text": "\"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him,", "start_byte": 226489, "end_byte": 226557, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 350.8149938964844, "cut_end_time": 355.0400563964844, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "He saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.\n\nSheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.\n\n\"What did Trench want?\" he asked thickly.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him,\"<|quote_end|> she answered. \"At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- \"\n\nGordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...\n\n\"All right, Cuddles,\" he said finally. \"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 12}, {"text": "\"All right, Cuddles,", "start_byte": 226843, "end_byte": 226863, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 377.6050036621094, "cut_end_time": 378.6600036621094, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "Sheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.\n\n\"What did Trench want?\" he asked thickly.\n\n\"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him,\" she answered. \"At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- \"\n\nGordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...\n\n<|quote_start|>\"All right, Cuddles,\"<|quote_end|> he said finally. \"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"", "start_byte": 226882, "end_byte": 227090, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 380.16499633789067, "cut_end_time": 392.7900588378906, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\" he asked thickly.\n\n\"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him,\" she answered. \"At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- \"\n\nGordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...\n\n\"All right, Cuddles,\" he said finally. <|quote_start|>\"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe shook her head. \"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"\n\n\"You burned it!\" He turned it over, staring at her. \"Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "finally": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 14}, {"text": "\"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"", "start_byte": 227112, "end_byte": 227366, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 395.62498535156254, "cut_end_time": 414.7200478515625, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\" she answered. \"At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- \"\n\nGordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...\n\n\"All right, Cuddles,\" he said finally. \"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. <|quote_start|>\"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You burned it!\" He turned it over, staring at her. \"Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?\"\n\nShe backed away, biting her lips. \"No, Bruce. I burned it. I don't know why. I just did! No!\"\n\nShe turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?\"", "start_byte": 227420, "end_byte": 227592, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 421.1250048828125, "cut_end_time": 430.96000488281254, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\"You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"\n\n\"You burned it!\" He turned it over, staring at her. <|quote_start|>\"Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe backed away, biting her lips. \"No, Bruce. I burned it. I don't know why. I just did! No!\"\n\nShe turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 17}, {"text": "\"No, Bruce. I burned it. I don't know why. I just did! No!\"", "start_byte": 227628, "end_byte": 227687, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 434.80500244140626, "cut_end_time": 439.6500649414063, "narration": {"text": "Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...", "cut_start_time": 367.7850024414063, "cut_end_time": 376.4900649414063, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me.\"\n\n\"You burned it!\" He turned it over, staring at her. \"Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?\"\n\nShe backed away, biting her lips. <|quote_start|>\"No, Bruce. I burned it. I don't know why. I just did! No!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.\n\nShe sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips.", "narrative_information_pred": {"biting": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"Are you satisfied now, you mechanical beast! Do you still think I have it on me?\"", "start_byte": 228206, "end_byte": 228288, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 476.05499633789066, "cut_end_time": 481.29012133789064, "narration": {"text": "She sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips.", "cut_start_time": 470.02500610351564, "cut_end_time": 475.6700061035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "She turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.\n\nShe sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips. <|quote_start|>\"Are you satisfied now, you mechanical beast! Do you still think I have it on me?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe grinned, twisting the corners of his mouth. \"You don't. Don't you know a wife shouldn't keep secrets from her husband? A warm-blooded, affectionate husband, to boot.\" He bent down, knocking aside her flailing arms, and pulled her closer to him. \"Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!\"\n\nShe cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.\n\nFrom somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.", "narrative_information_pred": {"squeezed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "hoarse": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"You don't. Don't you know a wife shouldn't keep secrets from her husband? A warm-blooded, affectionate husband, to boot.", "start_byte": 228337, "end_byte": 228458, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 485.92500610351567, "cut_end_time": 494.17006860351563, "narration": {"text": "She sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips.", "cut_start_time": 470.02500610351564, "cut_end_time": 475.6700061035157, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "She turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.\n\nShe sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips. \"Are you satisfied now, you mechanical beast! Do you still think I have it on me?\"\n\nHe grinned, twisting the corners of his mouth. <|quote_start|>\"You don't. Don't you know a wife shouldn't keep secrets from her husband? A warm-blooded, affectionate husband, to boot.\"<|quote_end|> He bent down, knocking aside her flailing arms, and pulled her closer to him. \"Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!\"\n\nShe cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.\n\nFrom somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.", "narrative_information_pred": {"grinned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!\"", "start_byte": 228538, "end_byte": 228592, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 500.1250134277344, "cut_end_time": 502.5400134277344, "narration": {"text": "She cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.", "cut_start_time": 503.5349951171875, "cut_end_time": 509.92012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "She sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips. \"Are you satisfied now, you mechanical beast! Do you still think I have it on me?\"\n\nHe grinned, twisting the corners of his mouth. \"You don't. Don't you know a wife shouldn't keep secrets from her husband? A warm-blooded, affectionate husband, to boot.\" He bent down, knocking aside her flailing arms, and pulled her closer to him. <|quote_start|>\"Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.\n\nFrom somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.\n\n\"All right, Sheila,\" he said. His voice was cracked in his ears.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out.", "start_byte": 229045, "end_byte": 229249, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 536.73501953125, "cut_end_time": 550.04001953125, "narration": {"text": "She cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.", "cut_start_time": 503.5349951171875, "cut_end_time": 509.92012011718754, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_19.flac"}, "context": "She cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.\n\nFrom somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.\n\n\"All right, Sheila,\" he said. His voice was cracked in his ears. <|quote_start|>\"Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out.\"<|quote_end|> He shook his head, waiting for her denunciation. \"For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!\"\n\nHe stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.\n\n\"Bruce,\" she said faintly, \"you meant it! You don't hate me any more.\" She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. \"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_19.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!\"", "start_byte": 229300, "end_byte": 229358, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 555.9949755859375, "cut_end_time": 559.2400380859375, "narration": {"text": "He stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.", "cut_start_time": 560.724990234375, "cut_end_time": 565.850115234375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_20.flac"}, "context": "From somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.\n\n\"All right, Sheila,\" he said. His voice was cracked in his ears. \"Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out.\" He shook his head, waiting for her denunciation. <|quote_start|>\"For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.\n\n\"Bruce,\" she said faintly, \"you meant it! You don't hate me any more.\" She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. \"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_20.flac", "original_index": 24}, {"text": "\"you meant it! You don't hate me any more.", "start_byte": 229468, "end_byte": 229510, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 568.7749975585938, "cut_end_time": 572.0000600585938, "narration": {"text": " She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.", "cut_start_time": 572.614990234375, "cut_end_time": 578.320052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_21.flac"}, "context": "\"Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out.\" He shook his head, waiting for her denunciation. \"For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!\"\n\nHe stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.\n\n\"Bruce,\" she said faintly, <|quote_start|>\"you meant it! You don't hate me any more.\"<|quote_end|> She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. \"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nTwo worlds. One huddled under its dome, forever afraid of losing that protection and having to face the life the other led; and yet driven to work together or to perish together. The sacred dome!", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "faintly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_21.flac", "original_index": 26}, {"text": "\"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"", "start_byte": 229593, "end_byte": 229742, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 579.4949877929688, "cut_end_time": 592.5401127929688, "narration": {"text": " She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.", "cut_start_time": 572.614990234375, "cut_end_time": 578.320052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_22.flac"}, "context": "\"Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out.\" He shook his head, waiting for her denunciation. \"For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!\"\n\nHe stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.\n\n\"Bruce,\" she said faintly, \"you meant it! You don't hate me any more.\" She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. <|quote_start|>\"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n* * * * *\n\nTwo worlds. One huddled under its dome, forever afraid of losing that protection and having to face the life the other led; and yet driven to work together or to perish together. The sacred dome!\n\nAnd suddenly he was shaking her. \"The dome! It has to be the answer! Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind -- the whole damned planet has been blind.\"\n\nShe blinked and then frowned. \"Bruce -- \"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "faintly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_22.flac", "original_index": 27}, {"text": "\"The dome! It has to be the answer! Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind -- the whole damned planet has been blind.\"", "start_byte": 229985, "end_byte": 230140, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 611.7449975585938, "cut_end_time": 622.4600600585937, "narration": {"text": " She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.", "cut_start_time": 572.614990234375, "cut_end_time": 578.320052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_23.flac"}, "context": "\" She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. \"I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nTwo worlds. One huddled under its dome, forever afraid of losing that protection and having to face the life the other led; and yet driven to work together or to perish together. The sacred dome!\n\nAnd suddenly he was shaking her. <|quote_start|>\"The dome! It has to be the answer! Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind -- the whole damned planet has been blind.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nShe blinked and then frowned. \"Bruce -- \"\n\n\"I'm all right! I'm just half sane instead of all insane for a change.\" He got up, pacing the floor as he talked.\n\n\"Look, most of the people here are Martians. They've left Earth behind, and they're meeting this planet on its own terms. And they're adapting. Third-generation children -- not all, but a lot of them -- are breathing the air we'd die on, and they're doing fine at it. Probably second-generation ones can keep going after we'd pass out. It's just as true out here as it is on the frontier. But Marsport has that sacred dome over it. It's still trying to be Earth. And it can't do it. It's never had a chance to adjust here, and it's afraid to try.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"shaking": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_23.flac", "original_index": 28}, {"text": "\"I'm all right! I'm just half sane instead of all insane for a change.", "start_byte": 230185, "end_byte": 230255, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 626.1649951171876, "cut_end_time": 631.0800576171875, "narration": {"text": " She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.", "cut_start_time": 572.614990234375, "cut_end_time": 578.320052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_24.flac"}, "context": "* * * * *\n\nTwo worlds. One huddled under its dome, forever afraid of losing that protection and having to face the life the other led; and yet driven to work together or to perish together. The sacred dome!\n\nAnd suddenly he was shaking her. \"The dome! It has to be the answer! Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind -- the whole damned planet has been blind.\"\n\nShe blinked and then frowned. \"Bruce -- \"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I'm all right! I'm just half sane instead of all insane for a change.\"<|quote_end|> He got up, pacing the floor as he talked.\n\n\"Look, most of the people here are Martians. They've left Earth behind, and they're meeting this planet on its own terms. And they're adapting. Third-generation children -- not all, but a lot of them -- are breathing the air we'd die on, and they're doing fine at it. Probably second-generation ones can keep going after we'd pass out. It's just as true out here as it is on the frontier. But Marsport has that sacred dome over it. It's still trying to be Earth. And it can't do it. It's never had a chance to adjust here, and it's afraid to try.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"talked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_24.flac", "original_index": 29}, {"text": "\"But what about this part of Marsport?\"", "start_byte": 230881, "end_byte": 230920, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 677.9149853515626, "cut_end_time": 679.8900478515625, "narration": {"text": " She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.", "cut_start_time": 572.614990234375, "cut_end_time": 578.320052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_25.flac"}, "context": "\"Look, most of the people here are Martians. They've left Earth behind, and they're meeting this planet on its own terms. And they're adapting. Third-generation children -- not all, but a lot of them -- are breathing the air we'd die on, and they're doing fine at it. Probably second-generation ones can keep going after we'd pass out. It's just as true out here as it is on the frontier. But Marsport has that sacred dome over it. It's still trying to be Earth. And it can't do it. It's never had a chance to adjust here, and it's afraid to try.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" she agreed doubtfully. <|quote_start|>\"But what about this part of Marsport?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Obvious. Here, they grow up under the shadow of it. They live in a half-world, and they have to live on the crumbs the dome tosses them. Sheila, if something happened to that dome -- \"\n\n\"We'd be killed,\" she said. \"How do we do it?\"\n\nHe frowned, and then grinned slowly. \"Maybe not!\"\n\nThey spent the rest of the night discussing it. Sometime during the discussion, she made coffee, and first Randolph, then the Kid came in for briefing. Randolph was a natural addition, and the Kid had been alternately following Gordon and Sheila around since he'd first heard they were fighting against the men who'd robbed him of his right to speak. In the end, as the night spread into day, there were more people than they felt safe with, and less than they needed.", "narrative_information_pred": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "doubtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_25.flac", "original_index": 32}, {"text": "\"We can work enough powder under those webbing supports, and lay the fuse wire beside the plastic ring that keeps it airtight,", "start_byte": 232269, "end_byte": 232395, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 776.3749780273438, "cut_end_time": 783.0400405273438, "narration": {"text": "There were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them.", "cut_start_time": 822.804990234375, "cut_end_time": 828.890052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_26.flac"}, "context": "But later, as he stood beside the dome when night had fallen again, Gordon wasn't so sure. It was huge. The fabric of it was thin, and even the webbing straps that gave it added strength were frail things. But it was strong enough to hold up the pressure of over ten pounds per square inch, and the webbing was anchored in a metal sleeve that went too high for cutting. They could rip it, but not ruin it completely; and it had to be done so that no repair could ever be made.\n\nUnder it, and anchoring it, was a concrete wall all around the city.\n\nIzzy came back from a careful exploration. <|quote_start|>\"We can work enough powder under those webbing supports, and lay the fuse wire beside the plastic ring that keeps it airtight,\"<|quote_end|> he reported. \"But God help us, gov'nor, if any gee spots us.\"\n\nThey worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.", "narrative_information_pred": {"reported": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_26.flac", "original_index": 36}, {"text": "\"But God help us, gov'nor, if any gee spots us.\"", "start_byte": 232410, "end_byte": 232458, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 784.8050073242188, "cut_end_time": 787.6500073242188, "narration": {"text": "There were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them.", "cut_start_time": 822.804990234375, "cut_end_time": 828.890052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_27.flac"}, "context": "But later, as he stood beside the dome when night had fallen again, Gordon wasn't so sure. It was huge. The fabric of it was thin, and even the webbing straps that gave it added strength were frail things. But it was strong enough to hold up the pressure of over ten pounds per square inch, and the webbing was anchored in a metal sleeve that went too high for cutting. They could rip it, but not ruin it completely; and it had to be done so that no repair could ever be made.\n\nUnder it, and anchoring it, was a concrete wall all around the city.\n\nIzzy came back from a careful exploration. \"We can work enough powder under those webbing supports, and lay the fuse wire beside the plastic ring that keeps it airtight,\" he reported. <|quote_start|>\"But God help us, gov'nor, if any gee spots us.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThey worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.\n\n\"Let him think we're just scouting,\" Randolph advised.", "narrative_information_pred": {"reported": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_27.flac", "original_index": 37}, {"text": "\"Let him think we're just scouting,", "start_byte": 232907, "end_byte": 232942, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 818.6750073242188, "cut_end_time": 820.3800698242188, "narration": {"text": "There were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them.", "cut_start_time": 822.804990234375, "cut_end_time": 828.890052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_28.flac"}, "context": "\"But God help us, gov'nor, if any gee spots us.\"\n\nThey worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let him think we're just scouting,\"<|quote_end|> Randolph advised.\n\nThere were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them. \"Did you find them, cobber?\" he asked quickly, and one of his eyelids flickered.\n\nIzzy answered before Gordon could rise to it. \"Not yet, Mother. May have to go back tonight.\"\n\nGordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.", "narrative_information_pred": {"advised": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_28.flac", "original_index": 38}, {"text": "\"Did you find them, cobber?", "start_byte": 233071, "end_byte": 233098, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 829.6949853515625, "cut_end_time": 831.0101103515625, "narration": {"text": "There were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them.", "cut_start_time": 822.804990234375, "cut_end_time": 828.890052734375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_29.flac"}, "context": "They worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.\n\n\"Let him think we're just scouting,\" Randolph advised.\n\nThere were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them. <|quote_start|>\"Did you find them, cobber?\"<|quote_end|> he asked quickly, and one of his eyelids flickered.\n\nIzzy answered before Gordon could rise to it. \"Not yet, Mother. May have to go back tonight.\"\n\nGordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "quickly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_29.flac", "original_index": 39}, {"text": "\"Not yet, Mother. May have to go back tonight.\"", "start_byte": 233199, "end_byte": 233246, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 838.415029296875, "cut_end_time": 842.030091796875, "narration": {"text": "He awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 875.0450024414063, "cut_end_time": 883.4700024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_30.flac"}, "context": "They worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.\n\n\"Let him think we're just scouting,\" Randolph advised.\n\nThere were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them. \"Did you find them, cobber?\" he asked quickly, and one of his eyelids flickered.\n\nIzzy answered before Gordon could rise to it. <|quote_start|>\"Not yet, Mother. May have to go back tonight.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.\n\nHe awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_30.flac", "original_index": 40}, {"text": "\"The princess took off in a car three hours ago,", "start_byte": 233851, "end_byte": 233899, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 884.485, "cut_end_time": 887.0600625000001, "narration": {"text": "He awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 875.0450024414063, "cut_end_time": 883.4700024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_31.flac"}, "context": "Gordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.\n\nHe awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"The princess took off in a car three hours ago,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"She said it was something that had to be done, gov'nor, so I figured you'd know about it.\"\n\nGordon shrugged, and let it pass. He found the rest of the group ready, with Mother Corey wishing them better luck tonight. The Mother obviously knew something; but he kept his suspicions to himself, and gave them a cover from the others.\n\nThere was no sign of Sheila near the dome. But inside, there were guards pacing along it. Gordon spotted them first, and drew the others back. If they'd found the carefully worked-in powder...", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_31.flac", "original_index": 41}, {"text": "\"She said it was something that had to be done, gov'nor, so I figured you'd know about it.\"", "start_byte": 233910, "end_byte": 234001, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 888.1750268554688, "cut_end_time": 892.7100268554688, "narration": {"text": "He awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 875.0450024414063, "cut_end_time": 883.4700024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_32.flac"}, "context": "Gordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.\n\nHe awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.\n\n\"The princess took off in a car three hours ago,\" he said. <|quote_start|>\"She said it was something that had to be done, gov'nor, so I figured you'd know about it.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon shrugged, and let it pass. He found the rest of the group ready, with Mother Corey wishing them better luck tonight. The Mother obviously knew something; but he kept his suspicions to himself, and gave them a cover from the others.\n\nThere was no sign of Sheila near the dome. But inside, there were guards pacing along it. Gordon spotted them first, and drew the others back. If they'd found the carefully worked-in powder...\n\nThe Kid ducked down and out of the car, worming his way around the building that concealed them. He waited for the guard to vanish, and then went crawling forward. Gordon swore, but there was no sense in two of them risking themselves, only to attract more attention. And at last the Kid came back. He ducked into the truck, nodding.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_32.flac", "original_index": 42}, {"text": "\"Wire and explosive still there?", "start_byte": 234772, "end_byte": 234804, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 949.0349975585938, "cut_end_time": 950.6201225585937, "narration": {"text": "He awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.", "cut_start_time": 875.0450024414063, "cut_end_time": 883.4700024414062, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_33.flac"}, "context": "There was no sign of Sheila near the dome. But inside, there were guards pacing along it. Gordon spotted them first, and drew the others back. If they'd found the carefully worked-in powder...\n\nThe Kid ducked down and out of the car, worming his way around the building that concealed them. He waited for the guard to vanish, and then went crawling forward. Gordon swore, but there was no sense in two of them risking themselves, only to attract more attention. And at last the Kid came back. He ducked into the truck, nodding.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Wire and explosive still there?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked.\n\nThe Kid made the sound he used for assent.\n\nIt made no sense; there was no reason for the sudden vigilance inside the dome.\n\n\"We might be able to run the wire in,\" Izzy said doubtfully.\n\nGordon grunted. \"And tip them off to where it is, probably. No, we'll have to do it under some kind of covering, the way I had it planned in the first place, only with one more damned complication. We'll pull another false raid on the dome. As soon as we get chased off, I'll manage to set it off while they're relaxing and laughing at us.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_33.flac", "original_index": 43}, {"text": "\"We might be able to run the wire in,", "start_byte": 234946, "end_byte": 234983, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 961.4250000000001, "cut_end_time": 963.14, "narration": {"text": "Then he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.", "cut_start_time": 1001.6850219726563, "cut_end_time": 1010.0700844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_34.flac"}, "context": "The Kid ducked down and out of the car, worming his way around the building that concealed them. He waited for the guard to vanish, and then went crawling forward. Gordon swore, but there was no sense in two of them risking themselves, only to attract more attention. And at last the Kid came back. He ducked into the truck, nodding.\n\n\"Wire and explosive still there?\" Gordon asked.\n\nThe Kid made the sound he used for assent.\n\nIt made no sense; there was no reason for the sudden vigilance inside the dome.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"We might be able to run the wire in,\"<|quote_end|> Izzy said doubtfully.\n\nGordon grunted. \"And tip them off to where it is, probably. No, we'll have to do it under some kind of covering, the way I had it planned in the first place, only with one more damned complication. We'll pull another false raid on the dome. As soon as we get chased off, I'll manage to set it off while they're relaxing and laughing at us.\"\n\n\"It smells!\" Izzy told him. \"Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "doubtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_34.flac", "original_index": 44}, {"text": "\"Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome.\"", "start_byte": 235378, "end_byte": 235524, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 991.545029296875, "cut_end_time": 1000.180091796875, "narration": {"text": "Then he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.", "cut_start_time": 1001.6850219726563, "cut_end_time": 1010.0700844726563, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_35.flac"}, "context": "\"We might be able to run the wire in,\" Izzy said doubtfully.\n\nGordon grunted. \"And tip them off to where it is, probably. No, we'll have to do it under some kind of covering, the way I had it planned in the first place, only with one more damned complication. We'll pull another false raid on the dome. As soon as we get chased off, I'll manage to set it off while they're relaxing and laughing at us.\"\n\n\"It smells!\" Izzy told him. <|quote_start|>\"Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThen he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.\n\nStanding next to the dome was Trench, talking to one of the guards. And beside him stood Sheila, with one hand resting on the man's elbow!\n\nHe could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. \"Get us back, Izzy,\" he ordered. \"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_35.flac", "original_index": 47}, {"text": "\"Get us back, Izzy,", "start_byte": 235908, "end_byte": 235927, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1030.8549755859374, "cut_end_time": 1031.9001005859375, "narration": {"text": "Rumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.", "cut_start_time": 1066.0750097656248, "cut_end_time": 1073.090072265625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_36.flac"}, "context": "\"Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome.\"\n\nThen he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.\n\nStanding next to the dome was Trench, talking to one of the guards. And beside him stood Sheila, with one hand resting on the man's elbow!\n\nHe could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. <|quote_start|>\"Get us back, Izzy,\"<|quote_end|> he ordered. \"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"\n\n\"You're going through with it?\" Randolph asked doubtfully.\n\n\"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"ordered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_36.flac", "original_index": 48}, {"text": "\"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"", "start_byte": 235941, "end_byte": 236161, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1033.1650048828124, "cut_end_time": 1046.7400673828124, "narration": {"text": "Rumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.", "cut_start_time": 1066.0750097656248, "cut_end_time": 1073.090072265625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_37.flac"}, "context": "\"Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome.\"\n\nThen he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.\n\nStanding next to the dome was Trench, talking to one of the guards. And beside him stood Sheila, with one hand resting on the man's elbow!\n\nHe could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. \"Get us back, Izzy,\" he ordered. <|quote_start|>\"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You're going through with it?\" Randolph asked doubtfully.\n\n\"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win.\"\n\nRumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.\n\nHe lifted the switch in his hands and stared at it. It wasn't necessary now. All he had to do was to reach the battery and drop any metal across the two terminals there -- if they could get back before Trench -- and Sheila -- could remove the battery.", "narrative_information_pred": {"ordered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_37.flac", "original_index": 49}, {"text": "\"You're going through with it?", "start_byte": 236163, "end_byte": 236193, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1048.195009765625, "cut_end_time": 1049.380009765625, "narration": {"text": "Rumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.", "cut_start_time": 1066.0750097656248, "cut_end_time": 1073.090072265625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_38.flac"}, "context": "Standing next to the dome was Trench, talking to one of the guards. And beside him stood Sheila, with one hand resting on the man's elbow!\n\nHe could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. \"Get us back, Izzy,\" he ordered. \"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You're going through with it?\"<|quote_end|> Randolph asked doubtfully.\n\n\"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win.\"\n\nRumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.\n\nHe lifted the switch in his hands and stared at it. It wasn't necessary now. All he had to do was to reach the battery and drop any metal across the two terminals there -- if they could get back before Trench -- and Sheila -- could remove the battery.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "doubtfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_38.flac", "original_index": 50}, {"text": "\"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win.\"", "start_byte": 236223, "end_byte": 236423, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1052.3550390624998, "cut_end_time": 1065.0201015624998, "narration": {"text": "Rumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.", "cut_start_time": 1066.0750097656248, "cut_end_time": 1073.090072265625, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_39.flac"}, "context": "He could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. \"Get us back, Izzy,\" he ordered. \"We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time.\"\n\n\"You're going through with it?\" Randolph asked doubtfully.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nRumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.\n\nHe lifted the switch in his hands and stared at it. It wasn't necessary now. All he had to do was to reach the battery and drop any metal across the two terminals there -- if they could get back before Trench -- and Sheila -- could remove the battery.\n\nIt was a period of complete fog to him, but it wasn't until his motley army reached the dome, straggling up in trucks and on foot, that he snapped into focus again. There was no sign of Sheila this time, and he didn't look for her. His whole mind was concentrated down to a single point: Get the dome!", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "doubtfully": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_39.flac", "original_index": 51}, {"text": "\"Hear that siren, gov'nor? Means they're scared we may do it. Give me that damned switch!\"", "start_byte": 237523, "end_byte": 237613, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1145.5750292968748, "cut_end_time": 1151.620029296875, "narration": {"text": "It made no sense to him, and he didn't care. He marched his men up, with the thin wailing of a banshee in his ears.", "cut_start_time": 1133.0150146484375, "cut_end_time": 1141.2900146484374, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_40.flac"}, "context": "It was a period of complete fog to him, but it wasn't until his motley army reached the dome, straggling up in trucks and on foot, that he snapped into focus again. There was no sign of Sheila this time, and he didn't look for her. His whole mind was concentrated down to a single point: Get the dome!\n\nThis time, there was no scattering of Municipals and Legals. The Municipal forces were rushing up toward the dome, and surprised Legals were frantically arriving in trucks. There was the beginning of a pitched battle right at the spot where Gordon needed his own cover.\n\nIt made no sense to him, and he didn't care. He marched his men up, with the thin wailing of a banshee in his ears.\n\n\"Dome warning!\" Izzy shouted in his ear. <|quote_start|>\"Hear that siren, gov'nor? Means they're scared we may do it. Give me that damned switch!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe grabbed for it, but Gordon held firmly to the copper strap. And now the men inside caught sight of the approaching force. For a second, consternation seemed to reign.\n\nThen a huge truck with a speaker on top drove into the struggling group, and the thin whisper of unintelligible words reached Gordon. The whole development made no more sense than any part of it to him, but he saw the Municipals and Legals suddenly begin to turn as a single man to face the outside menace that had crept up on them while they were boiling into a fight.", "narrative_information_pred": {"shouted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_40.flac", "original_index": 53}, {"text": "\"Get back! The dome is mined! Any man comes near it, it'll blow! Get back! The dome is mined!\"", "start_byte": 238222, "end_byte": 238316, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1194.61498046875, "cut_end_time": 1200.03004296875, "narration": {"text": "He turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.", "cut_start_time": 1288.8449560546874, "cut_end_time": 1296.6100185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_41.flac"}, "context": "He grabbed for it, but Gordon held firmly to the copper strap. And now the men inside caught sight of the approaching force. For a second, consternation seemed to reign.\n\nThen a huge truck with a speaker on top drove into the struggling group, and the thin whisper of unintelligible words reached Gordon. The whole development made no more sense than any part of it to him, but he saw the Municipals and Legals suddenly begin to turn as a single man to face the outside menace that had crept up on them while they were boiling into a fight.\n\nAnd suddenly the Marspeaker over the entrance blasted into life. <|quote_start|>\"Get back! The dome is mined! Any man comes near it, it'll blow! Get back! The dome is mined!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBy Gordon's side, a sudden gargling sound came from the Kid. His hand snaked out, caught the strap from Gordon's hand, and jerked it free. Then he was running frantically forward.\n\nRifles lifted inside, and shots rang out, clipping bullets through the dome. In one place it began to tear, and there was a sudden savage roar from the men around Gordon. He had started forward after the Kid, but Izzy was in front of him, holding him back.", "narrative_information_pred": {"blasted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_41.flac", "original_index": 54}, {"text": "\"Your wife took a helluva chance, Gordon,", "start_byte": 239814, "end_byte": 239855, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1309.4550048828123, "cut_end_time": 1311.6300673828125, "narration": {"text": "He turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.", "cut_start_time": 1288.8449560546874, "cut_end_time": 1296.6100185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_42.flac"}, "context": "He struggled to his feet to see helmeted men pouring out of the houses around, and other men pouring forward from his own group. The few of either police force still standing and helmeted broke into a wild run, but they had no chance! The mob had decided that they had mined and exploded the dome.\n\nHe turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.\n\nThen a small truck drew up, and an arm went out to draw him inside the cab. He stared into the face of Isaiah Trench. And driving the truck was Sheila.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Your wife took a helluva chance, Gordon,\"<|quote_end|> Trench said heavily. \"And I took quite a chance, too, to set this up so nobody could ever believe you were behind it. Getting that fight started in time, after you first showed up -- oh, sure, we spotted you -- was the toughest job I ever did! But I guess Sheila had the roughest end, not even knowing for sure where I stood.\"\n\nGordon stared at them slowly, not quite believing it, even though it was no crazier than anything else during the past few hours.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_42.flac", "original_index": 55}, {"text": "\"And I took quite a chance, too, to set this up so nobody could ever believe you were behind it. Getting that fight started in time, after you first showed up -- oh, sure, we spotted you -- was the toughest job I ever did! But I guess Sheila had the roughest end, not even knowing for sure where I stood.\"", "start_byte": 239878, "end_byte": 240183, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1313.3249560546874, "cut_end_time": 1331.3900185546875, "narration": {"text": "He turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.", "cut_start_time": 1288.8449560546874, "cut_end_time": 1296.6100185546875, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_43.flac"}, "context": "He struggled to his feet to see helmeted men pouring out of the houses around, and other men pouring forward from his own group. The few of either police force still standing and helmeted broke into a wild run, but they had no chance! The mob had decided that they had mined and exploded the dome.\n\nHe turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.\n\nThen a small truck drew up, and an arm went out to draw him inside the cab. He stared into the face of Isaiah Trench. And driving the truck was Sheila.\n\n\"Your wife took a helluva chance, Gordon,\" Trench said heavily. <|quote_start|>\"And I took quite a chance, too, to set this up so nobody could ever believe you were behind it. Getting that fight started in time, after you first showed up -- oh, sure, we spotted you -- was the toughest job I ever did! But I guess Sheila had the roughest end, not even knowing for sure where I stood.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nGordon stared at them slowly, not quite believing it, even though it was no crazier than anything else during the past few hours.\n\nTrench shrugged. \"I was railroaded here by Security, told to be good and they'd let me go home. A lot of men got that treatment. So when Wayne was still talking about building a perfect Marsport, I joined up. He treated me right, and I took orders. But a man gets sick of working with punks and cheap hoods; he gets sicker of killing off a planet he's learned to like. I learned to take orders, though -- and I took them until Wayne tried to put a bullet through me. That ended that, and I came out to join up with you. You were soused, I hear -- but your wife guessed enough to take the chance of coming to me, when she thought you were going to get yourself killed. Well, I guess you get out here.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_43.flac", "original_index": 56}, {"text": "\"What happens to you now?", "start_byte": 241103, "end_byte": 241128, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1395.1350146484374, "cut_end_time": 1396.1400771484375, "narration": {"text": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel.", "cut_start_time": 1388.8850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1394.2300869140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_44.flac"}, "context": "\"I was railroaded here by Security, told to be good and they'd let me go home. A lot of men got that treatment. So when Wayne was still talking about building a perfect Marsport, I joined up. He treated me right, and I took orders. But a man gets sick of working with punks and cheap hoods; he gets sicker of killing off a planet he's learned to like. I learned to take orders, though -- and I took them until Wayne tried to put a bullet through me. That ended that, and I came out to join up with you. You were soused, I hear -- but your wife guessed enough to take the chance of coming to me, when she thought you were going to get yourself killed. Well, I guess you get out here.\"\n\nHe indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel. <|quote_start|>\"What happens to you now?\"<|quote_end|> Gordon asked. \"They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome.\"\n\n\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.\" He stuck out a hand. \"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_44.flac", "original_index": 58}, {"text": "\"They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome.\"", "start_byte": 241144, "end_byte": 241193, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1397.685029296875, "cut_end_time": 1399.780091796875, "narration": {"text": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel.", "cut_start_time": 1388.8850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1394.2300869140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_45.flac"}, "context": "\"I was railroaded here by Security, told to be good and they'd let me go home. A lot of men got that treatment. So when Wayne was still talking about building a perfect Marsport, I joined up. He treated me right, and I took orders. But a man gets sick of working with punks and cheap hoods; he gets sicker of killing off a planet he's learned to like. I learned to take orders, though -- and I took them until Wayne tried to put a bullet through me. That ended that, and I came out to join up with you. You were soused, I hear -- but your wife guessed enough to take the chance of coming to me, when she thought you were going to get yourself killed. Well, I guess you get out here.\"\n\nHe indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel. \"What happens to you now?\" Gordon asked. <|quote_start|>\"They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.\" He stuck out a hand. \"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"\n\nSheila watched him go, shaking her head.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_45.flac", "original_index": 59}, {"text": "\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.", "start_byte": 241195, "end_byte": 241443, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1401.2650390625, "cut_end_time": 1417.2401015624998, "narration": {"text": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel.", "cut_start_time": 1388.8850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1394.2300869140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_46.flac"}, "context": "\"I was railroaded here by Security, told to be good and they'd let me go home. A lot of men got that treatment. So when Wayne was still talking about building a perfect Marsport, I joined up. He treated me right, and I took orders. But a man gets sick of working with punks and cheap hoods; he gets sicker of killing off a planet he's learned to like. I learned to take orders, though -- and I took them until Wayne tried to put a bullet through me. That ended that, and I came out to join up with you. You were soused, I hear -- but your wife guessed enough to take the chance of coming to me, when she thought you were going to get yourself killed. Well, I guess you get out here.\"\n\nHe indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel. \"What happens to you now?\" Gordon asked. \"They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.\"<|quote_end|> He stuck out a hand. \"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"\n\nSheila watched him go, shaking her head. \"He likes you, Bruce. But he can't say it. Men!\"\n\n\"Women!\" Gordon answered.\n\nThen he stiffened. Coming down through the thin air of Mars was the bright blue exhaust of a rocket. The real Security was arriving!\n\nChapter XVII\n\nSECURITY PAYOFF\n\nIt was three days before Bruce Gordon made up his mind to hunt up Security; another four days passed after they had sent him back to wait until they received orders from Headquarters for him. There was a man coming from Earth on a second ship who would see him. They gave him a chauffeur back to the Chicken Coop, and politely indicated that it would be better if he stayed within reach.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stuck": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_46.flac", "original_index": 60}, {"text": "\"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"", "start_byte": 241466, "end_byte": 241566, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1421.1550146484374, "cut_end_time": 1428.0800146484373, "narration": {"text": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel.", "cut_start_time": 1388.8850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1394.2300869140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_47.flac"}, "context": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel. \"What happens to you now?\" Gordon asked. \"They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome.\"\n\n\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.\" He stuck out a hand. <|quote_start|>\"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nSheila watched him go, shaking her head. \"He likes you, Bruce. But he can't say it. Men!\"\n\n\"Women!\" Gordon answered.\n\nThen he stiffened. Coming down through the thin air of Mars was the bright blue exhaust of a rocket. The real Security was arriving!\n\nChapter XVII\n\nSECURITY PAYOFF\n\nIt was three days before Bruce Gordon made up his mind to hunt up Security; another four days passed after they had sent him back to wait until they received orders from Headquarters for him. There was a man coming from Earth on a second ship who would see him. They gave him a chauffeur back to the Chicken Coop, and politely indicated that it would be better if he stayed within reach.", "narrative_information_pred": {"stuck": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_47.flac", "original_index": 61}, {"text": "\"He likes you, Bruce. But he can't say it. Men!\"", "start_byte": 241609, "end_byte": 241657, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 1432.3249999999998, "cut_end_time": 1436.9599999999998, "narration": {"text": "He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel.", "cut_start_time": 1388.8850244140624, "cut_end_time": 1394.2300869140624, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_48.flac"}, "context": "\"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about.\" He stuck out a hand. \"You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!\"\n\nSheila watched him go, shaking her head. <|quote_start|>\"He likes you, Bruce. But he can't say it. Men!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Women!\" Gordon answered.\n\nThen he stiffened. Coming down through the thin air of Mars was the bright blue exhaust of a rocket. The real Security was arriving!\n\nChapter XVII\n\nSECURITY PAYOFF\n\nIt was three days before Bruce Gordon made up his mind to hunt up Security; another four days passed after they had sent him back to wait until they received orders from Headquarters for him. There was a man coming from Earth on a second ship who would see him. They gave him a chauffeur back to the Chicken Coop, and politely indicated that it would be better if he stayed within reach.", "narrative_information_pred": {"watched": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "shaking": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_16_delray_64kb_48.flac", "original_index": 62}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb.json b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a16b3376834041a9012d58ba01cd1903d6badf8f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"On the house, copper,", "start_byte": 244686, "end_byte": 244708, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 215.50499877929687, "cut_end_time": 216.81012377929687, "narration": {"text": " Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs.", "cut_start_time": 216.9150030517578, "cut_end_time": 223.6000030517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_0.flac"}, "context": "They had been lucky. The dome had exploded outwards, with only bits of it falling back; and the buildings had come through the outward explosion of the pressure with little damage. Gordon grinned wryly. Schulberg's volunteers were official, now. Izzy was acting as chief of police, Schulberg was head of the reconstruction corps, and Mother Corey was temporary Mayor of all Marsport. The old charter for Marsport from North America was dead, and the whole city was now under Security charter, like the rest of the planet. But the dozen Security men had left most of the control in the Mother's hands, and the old man was up to his fat jowls in business.\n\nGordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place was still open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon dropped to a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for the glass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"On the house, copper,\"<|quote_end|> Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. \"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"\n\n\"Friends and other things,\" Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. \"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. \"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_0.flac", "original_index": 0}, {"text": "\"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"", "start_byte": 244804, "end_byte": 244907, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 223.91499267578124, "cut_end_time": 230.66011767578124, "narration": {"text": " Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs.", "cut_start_time": 216.9150030517578, "cut_end_time": 223.6000030517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_1.flac"}, "context": "They had been lucky. The dome had exploded outwards, with only bits of it falling back; and the buildings had come through the outward explosion of the pressure with little damage. Gordon grinned wryly. Schulberg's volunteers were official, now. Izzy was acting as chief of police, Schulberg was head of the reconstruction corps, and Mother Corey was temporary Mayor of all Marsport. The old charter for Marsport from North America was dead, and the whole city was now under Security charter, like the rest of the planet. But the dozen Security men had left most of the control in the Mother's hands, and the old man was up to his fat jowls in business.\n\nGordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place was still open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon dropped to a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for the glass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.\n\n\"On the house, copper,\" Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. <|quote_start|>\"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"Friends and other things,\" Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. \"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. \"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"\n\n\"That's Mars,\" Gordon echoed the other's comment.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_1.flac", "original_index": 1}, {"text": "\"Friends and other things,", "start_byte": 244909, "end_byte": 244935, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 231.63500061035157, "cut_end_time": 232.81006311035156, "narration": {"text": " Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs.", "cut_start_time": 216.9150030517578, "cut_end_time": 223.6000030517578, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_2.flac"}, "context": "Gordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place was still open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon dropped to a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for the glass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.\n\n\"On the house, copper,\" Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. \"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"Friends and other things,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. \"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. \"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"\n\n\"That's Mars,\" Gordon echoed the other's comment.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_2.flac", "original_index": 2}, {"text": "\"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"", "start_byte": 244984, "end_byte": 245032, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 236.36500366210936, "cut_end_time": 238.72000366210938, "narration": {"text": " He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again.", "cut_start_time": 242.17499694824218, "cut_end_time": 245.43012194824217, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_3.flac"}, "context": "Gordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place was still open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon dropped to a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for the glass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.\n\n\"On the house, copper,\" Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. \"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"\n\n\"Friends and other things,\" Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. <|quote_start|>\"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. \"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"\n\n\"That's Mars,\" Gordon echoed the other's comment. \"Why don't you pull off the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_3.flac", "original_index": 3}, {"text": "\"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"", "start_byte": 245120, "end_byte": 245333, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 246.1850030517578, "cut_end_time": 258.9200030517578, "narration": {"text": "Gordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.", "cut_start_time": 295.1849877929688, "cut_end_time": 299.6500502929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_4.flac"}, "context": "\"On the house, copper,\" Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. \"And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!\"\n\n\"Friends and other things,\" Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. \"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. <|quote_start|>\"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"That's Mars,\" Gordon echoed the other's comment. \"Why don't you pull off the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess.\"\n\nThe other nodded. \"Yeah. I went back, about ten years ago. Spent four weeks down there. I dunno. Guess a man gets used to anything ... Hell, maybe I can hire some bums to sit around and whoop it up when the ships come in, and bill this as a real old Martian den of sin! Get a barker out at the port, run special busses, charge the suckers a mint for a cheap thrill.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_4.flac", "original_index": 5}, {"text": "\"Why don't you pull off the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess.\"", "start_byte": 245385, "end_byte": 245466, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 263.56499145507814, "cut_end_time": 268.00011645507817, "narration": {"text": "Gordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.", "cut_start_time": 295.1849877929688, "cut_end_time": 299.6500502929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_5.flac"}, "context": "\" Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. \"Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats.\"\n\nThe other shrugged. \"That's Mars.\" He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. \"Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!\"\n\n\"That's Mars,\" Gordon echoed the other's comment. <|quote_start|>\"Why don't you pull off the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe other nodded. \"Yeah. I went back, about ten years ago. Spent four weeks down there. I dunno. Guess a man gets used to anything ... Hell, maybe I can hire some bums to sit around and whoop it up when the ships come in, and bill this as a real old Martian den of sin! Get a barker out at the port, run special busses, charge the suckers a mint for a cheap thrill.\"\n\nGordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.", "narrative_information_pred": {"echoed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_5.flac", "original_index": 7}, {"text": "\"Hello, Gordon. Finally got our orders for you. It's Mercury!\"", "start_byte": 246536, "end_byte": 246598, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 346.4349951171875, "cut_end_time": 351.8401201171875, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_6.flac"}, "context": "He finished the meal, accepted a pack of the Earth cigarettes that sold at a luxury price here, and went out into the thin air of Mars. It was almost good to get out into the filth of the slums, and be heading back to the still-standing monument of the old Chicken Coop. He headed for the private entrance out of habit, and then shrugged as he realized it was a needless precaution now. He moved up the front steps and through the battered seal.\n\nThen he stopped. Security had finally gotten around to him, it seemed. Inside the hallway, the Security man who'd first sent him to Mars was waiting.\n\nThere was a grin on the other's face. <|quote_start|>\"Hello, Gordon. Finally got our orders for you. It's Mercury!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nBruce Gordon nodded slowly. \"All right. I suppose you know I ruined the dome, was supposed to have killed Murdoch, pretended I was a Security agent...\"\n\n\"You were one,\" the man said. He grinned again. \"We know about Murdoch, and we know where Trench is -- but he's a good citizen now, so he can stay there. We're not throwing the book at you, Bruce. Damn it, we sent you here to get results, and you got them. We sent twenty others the same way -- and they failed. You were a bit drastic -- that I have to admit -- but we're one step closer to keeping nationalism off the planets, and that's all we care about.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"grin": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_6.flac", "original_index": 9}, {"text": "\"All right. I suppose you know I ruined the dome, was supposed to have killed Murdoch, pretended I was a Security agent...\"", "start_byte": 246628, "end_byte": 246751, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 355.00500122070315, "cut_end_time": 362.69006372070317, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_7.flac"}, "context": "He finished the meal, accepted a pack of the Earth cigarettes that sold at a luxury price here, and went out into the thin air of Mars. It was almost good to get out into the filth of the slums, and be heading back to the still-standing monument of the old Chicken Coop. He headed for the private entrance out of habit, and then shrugged as he realized it was a needless precaution now. He moved up the front steps and through the battered seal.\n\nThen he stopped. Security had finally gotten around to him, it seemed. Inside the hallway, the Security man who'd first sent him to Mars was waiting.\n\nThere was a grin on the other's face. \"Hello, Gordon. Finally got our orders for you. It's Mercury!\"\n\nBruce Gordon nodded slowly. <|quote_start|>\"All right. I suppose you know I ruined the dome, was supposed to have killed Murdoch, pretended I was a Security agent...\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You were one,\" the man said. He grinned again. \"We know about Murdoch, and we know where Trench is -- but he's a good citizen now, so he can stay there. We're not throwing the book at you, Bruce. Damn it, we sent you here to get results, and you got them. We sent twenty others the same way -- and they failed. You were a bit drastic -- that I have to admit -- but we're one step closer to keeping nationalism off the planets, and that's all we care about.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"nodded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_7.flac", "original_index": 10}, {"text": "\"I wonder if it's worth it,", "start_byte": 247213, "end_byte": 247240, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 397.4249987792969, "cut_end_time": 398.6901237792969, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_8.flac"}, "context": "\"You were one,\" the man said. He grinned again. \"We know about Murdoch, and we know where Trench is -- but he's a good citizen now, so he can stay there. We're not throwing the book at you, Bruce. Damn it, we sent you here to get results, and you got them. We sent twenty others the same way -- and they failed. You were a bit drastic -- that I have to admit -- but we're one step closer to keeping nationalism off the planets, and that's all we care about.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I wonder if it's worth it,\"<|quote_end|> Gordon said slowly.\n\nThe other shook his head. \"We can't know in our lifetime. All we can do is to hope. We'll probably get this Mother Corey and Isaacs elected properly; and for a while, things will improve. But there'll be pushers as long as weak men turn to drugs, and graft as long as voters allow the thing to get out of their hands. Let's say you've shifted some of the misery around a bit, and given them a chance to do better. It's up to them to take it or lose it.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "slowly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_8.flac", "original_index": 13}, {"text": "\"So I get sent to Mercury?\"", "start_byte": 247718, "end_byte": 247745, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 431.02500610351564, "cut_end_time": 432.55000610351567, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_9.flac"}, "context": "\"We can't know in our lifetime. All we can do is to hope. We'll probably get this Mother Corey and Isaacs elected properly; and for a while, things will improve. But there'll be pushers as long as weak men turn to drugs, and graft as long as voters allow the thing to get out of their hands. Let's say you've shifted some of the misery around a bit, and given them a chance to do better. It's up to them to take it or lose it.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"So I get sent to Mercury?\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"You can't stay here. They'll find out too much eventually.\" He paused, estimating Gordon. \"You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_9.flac", "original_index": 15}, {"text": "\"You can't stay here. They'll find out too much eventually.", "start_byte": 247747, "end_byte": 247806, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 433.43499145507815, "cut_end_time": 436.98011645507813, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_10.flac"}, "context": "\"We can't know in our lifetime. All we can do is to hope. We'll probably get this Mother Corey and Isaacs elected properly; and for a while, things will improve. But there'll be pushers as long as weak men turn to drugs, and graft as long as voters allow the thing to get out of their hands. Let's say you've shifted some of the misery around a bit, and given them a chance to do better. It's up to them to take it or lose it.\"\n\n\"So I get sent to Mercury?\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You can't stay here. They'll find out too much eventually.\"<|quote_end|> He paused, estimating Gordon. \"You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_10.flac", "original_index": 16}, {"text": "\"All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometime that -- well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck with men.\"", "start_byte": 248465, "end_byte": 248594, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 482.0650134277344, "cut_end_time": 490.1000134277344, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_11.flac"}, "context": "\"You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now.\"\n\nGordon sighed. <|quote_start|>\"All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometime that -- well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck with men.\"<|quote_end|>\n\n\"She already knows,\" the Security man said. \"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"\n\nThe car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_11.flac", "original_index": 18}, {"text": "\"She already knows,", "start_byte": 248596, "end_byte": 248615, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 491.615, "cut_end_time": 492.66, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_12.flac"}, "context": "\"You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now.\"\n\nGordon sighed. \"All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometime that -- well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck with men.\"\n\n<|quote_start|>\"She already knows,\"<|quote_end|> the Security man said. \"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"\n\nThe car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_12.flac", "original_index": 19}, {"text": "\"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"", "start_byte": 248640, "end_byte": 248791, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 494.8349987792969, "cut_end_time": 504.2901237792969, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_13.flac"}, "context": "\"You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now.\"\n\nGordon sighed. \"All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometime that -- well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck with men.\"\n\n\"She already knows,\" the Security man said. <|quote_start|>\"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nThe car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting. \"Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?\" he asked. \"And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him.\"", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_13.flac", "original_index": 20}, {"text": "\"Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?", "start_byte": 249062, "end_byte": 249124, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 524.5749951171875, "cut_end_time": 527.6300576171875, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_14.flac"}, "context": "\" the Security man said. \"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"\n\nThe car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting. <|quote_start|>\"Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?\"<|quote_end|> he asked. \"And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him.\"\n\nHe grabbed Gordon's hand and waddled down the landing plank. Izzy shook his head.\n\n\"I can't say it, either, gov'nor -- but some day, I'm going to have one of those badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if it kills you. Here!\"\n\nHe followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_14.flac", "original_index": 21}, {"text": "\"And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him.\"", "start_byte": 249136, "end_byte": 249235, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 529.1749926757813, "cut_end_time": 536.6201176757812, "narration": {"text": "Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting.", "cut_start_time": 517.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 523.8000380859376, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_15.flac"}, "context": "\"I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!\"\n\nThe car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting. \"Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?\" he asked. <|quote_start|>\"And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him.\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe grabbed Gordon's hand and waddled down the landing plank. Izzy shook his head.\n\n\"I can't say it, either, gov'nor -- but some day, I'm going to have one of those badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if it kills you. Here!\"\n\nHe followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.\n\nGordon dropped into his seat, while the sounds outside indicated take-off time. He had less than a hundred credits, a knife, a deck of phony cards, and a yellow ticket. Mars was leaving him what he'd brought....", "narrative_information_pred": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_15.flac", "original_index": 22}, {"text": "\"I can't say it, either, gov'nor -- but some day, I'm going to have one of those badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if it kills you. Here!\"", "start_byte": 249320, "end_byte": 249483, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 543.6150073242188, "cut_end_time": 555.6600073242188, "narration": {"text": "He followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.", "cut_start_time": 557.3649755859375, "cut_end_time": 565.9000380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_16.flac"}, "context": "The car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.\n\nMother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting. \"Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?\" he asked. \"And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him.\"\n\nHe grabbed Gordon's hand and waddled down the landing plank. Izzy shook his head.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"I can't say it, either, gov'nor -- but some day, I'm going to have one of those badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if it kills you. Here!\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.\n\nGordon dropped into his seat, while the sounds outside indicated take-off time. He had less than a hundred credits, a knife, a deck of phony cards, and a yellow ticket. Mars was leaving him what he'd brought....\n\nShe dropped into the seat very quietly, but her blouse touched his arm. In her hand was a punched ticket with the orange of Mars on top and the black of Mercury on the bottom.", "narrative_information_pred": {}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_16.flac", "original_index": 23}, {"text": "\"I've been shopping and I spent the money the man gave me. This is all I have left. Do you think it's worth it? Or should I take it back?\"", "start_byte": 250060, "end_byte": 250198, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 600.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 610.2800268554688, "narration": {"text": "He followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.", "cut_start_time": 557.3649755859375, "cut_end_time": 565.9000380859375, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_17.flac"}, "context": "He followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.\n\nGordon dropped into his seat, while the sounds outside indicated take-off time. He had less than a hundred credits, a knife, a deck of phony cards, and a yellow ticket. Mars was leaving him what he'd brought....\n\nShe dropped into the seat very quietly, but her blouse touched his arm. In her hand was a punched ticket with the orange of Mars on top and the black of Mercury on the bottom.\n\n\"Hello, Bruce,\" Sheila said softly. <|quote_start|>\"I've been shopping and I spent the money the man gave me. This is all I have left. Do you think it's worth it? Or should I take it back?\"<|quote_end|>\n\nHe turned it over in his hands slowly, and the smile came back to his face gradually.\n\n\"You got a bargain, Cuddles,\" he said. \"A lot better than the meal ticket you bought. Let's keep it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "softly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_17.flac", "original_index": 25}, {"text": "\"You got a bargain, Cuddles,", "start_byte": 250287, "end_byte": 250315, "is_quote": true, "cut_start_time": 617.755029296875, "cut_end_time": 619.260029296875, "narration": {"text": "He turned it over in his hands slowly, and the smile came back to his face gradually.", "cut_start_time": 611.3049877929687, "cut_end_time": 616.6701127929688, "audio_path": "prompt-wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_18.flac"}, "context": "She dropped into the seat very quietly, but her blouse touched his arm. In her hand was a punched ticket with the orange of Mars on top and the black of Mercury on the bottom.\n\n\"Hello, Bruce,\" Sheila said softly. \"I've been shopping and I spent the money the man gave me. This is all I have left. Do you think it's worth it? Or should I take it back?\"\n\nHe turned it over in his hands slowly, and the smile came back to his face gradually.\n\n<|quote_start|>\"You got a bargain, Cuddles,\"<|quote_end|> he said. \"A lot better than the meal ticket you bought. Let's keep it.", "narrative_information_pred": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}, "audio_path": "wavs/7585.policeyourplanet_17_delray_64kb_18.flac", "original_index": 26}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/clean_text.txt b/benchmark/7585/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..e238eb2c2eed0041a6b9673b6a987638ed2fffd1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2345 @@
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+POLICE YOUR PLANET
+
+By ERIC VAN LHIN
+
+SCIENCE FICTION AVALON BOOKS 22 EAST 60TH STREET NEW YORK
+
+Copyright, 1956, by Eric van Lhin
+
+[Transcriber's note: This is a rule 6 clearance. A copyright renewal could not be found.]
+
+Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 56-13313
+
+PUBLISHED SIMULTANEOUSLY IN THE DOMINION OF CANADA BY THE RYERSON PRESS, TORONTO
+
+PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY THE COLONIAL PRESS INC., CLINTON, MASSACHUSETTS
+
+CONTENTS
+
+I One Way Ticket
+
+II Honest Izzy
+
+III The Graft Is Green
+
+IV Captain Murdoch
+
+V Recall
+
+VI Sealed Letter
+
+VII Electioneering
+
+VIII Vote Early and Often
+
+IX Contraband
+
+X Marriage of Convenience
+
+XI The Sky's the Limit
+
+XII Wife or Prisoner?
+
+XIII Arrest Mayor Wayne!
+
+XIV Full Circle
+
+XV Murdoch's Mantle
+
+XVI Get the Dome!
+
+XVII Security Payoff
+
+POLICE YOUR PLANET
+
+Chapter I
+
+ONE WAY TICKET
+
+There were ten passengers in the little pressurized cabin of the electric bus that shuttled between the rocket field and Marsport. Ten men, the driver -- and Bruce Gordon.
+
+He sat apart from the others, as he had kept to himself on the ten-day trip between Earth and Mars, with the yellow stub of his ticket still stuck defiantly in the band of his hat, proclaiming that Earth had paid his passage without his permission being asked. His big, lean body was slumped slightly in the seat. There was no expression on his face.
+
+He listened to the driver explaining to a couple of firsters that they were actually on what appeared to be one of the mysterious canals when viewed from Earth. Every book on Mars gave the fact that the canals were either an illusion or something which could not be detected on the surface of the planet.
+
+He glanced back toward the rocket that still pointed skyward back on the field, and then forward toward the city of Marsport, sprawling out in a mess of slums beyond the edges of the dome that had been built to hold air over the central part. And at last he stirred and reached for the yellow stub.
+
+He grimaced at the ONE WAY stamped on it, then tore it into bits and let the pieces scatter over the floor. He counted them as they fell; thirty pieces, one for each year of his life. Little ones for the two years he'd wasted as a cop. Shreds for the four years as a kid in the ring before that -- he'd never made the top. Bigger bits for two years also wasted in trying his hand at professional gambling; and the six final pieces that spelled his rise from a special reporter helping out with a police shake-up coverage, through a regular leg-man turning up rackets, and on up like a meteor until.... He'd made his big scoop, all right. He'd dug up enough about the Mercury scandals to double circulation.
+
+And the government had explained what a fool he'd been for printing half of a story that was never supposed to be printed until all could be revealed. They'd given Bruce Gordon his final assignment.
+
+He shrugged. He'd bought a suit of airtight coveralls and a helmet at the field; he had some cash, and a set of reader cards in his pocket. The supply house, Earthside, had assured him that this pattern had never been exported to Mars. With them and the knife he'd selected, he might get by.
+
+The Solar Security office had given him the knife practice, to make sure he could use it, just as they'd made sure he hadn't taken extra money with him beyond the regulation amount.
+
+"You're a traitor, and we'd like nothing better than seeing your guts spilled," the Security man had told him. "That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background -- cop, tinhorn, fighter -- who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If..."
+
+It was a big if, and a vague one. They needed men on Mars who could act as links in their information bureau, and be ready to work on their side when the expected trouble came. They wanted men who could serve them loyally, even without orders. If he did them enough service, they might let him back to Earth. If he caused trouble enough, they could still ship him to Mercury.
+
+"And suppose nothing happens?" he asked.
+
+"Then who cares? You're just lucky enough to be alive."
+
+"And what makes you think I'm going to be a spy for Security?"
+
+The other had shrugged. "Why not, Gordon? You've been a spy for a yellow scandal sheet. Why not for us?"
+
+Gordon had been smart enough to realize that perhaps Security was right.
+
+They were in the slums around the city now. Marsport had been settled faster than it was ready to receive. Temporary buildings had been thrown up, and then had remained, decaying into deathtraps. It wasn't a pretty view that visitors got as they first reached Mars. But nobody except the romantic fools had ever thought frontiers were pretty.
+
+The drummer who had watched Gordon tear up his yellow stub moved forward now. "First time?" he asked.
+
+Gordon nodded, mentally cataloguing the drummer as the cockroach type, midway between the small-businessman slug and the petty-crook spider types that weren't worth bothering with. But the other took it as interest.
+
+"Been here dozens of times, myself. Risking your life just to go into Marsport. Why Congress doesn't clean it up, I'll never know!"
+
+Gordon's mind switched to the readers in his bag. The cards were plastic, and should be good for a week or so of use before they showed wear. During that time, by playing it carefully, he should have his stake. Then, if the gaming tables here were as crudely run as an oldtimer he'd known on Earth had said, he could try a coup.
+
+"... be at Mother Corey's soon," the fat little drummer babbled on. "Notorious -- worst place on Mars. Take it from me, brother, that's something! Even the cops are afraid to go in there. See it? There, to your left!"
+
+The name was vaguely familiar as one of the sore spots of Marsport. Bruce Gordon looked, and spotted the ragged building, half a mile outside the dome. It had been a rocket-maintenance hangar once, then had been turned into temporary dwelling for the first deportees, when Earth began flooding Mars. Now, seeming to stand by habit alone, it radiated desolation and decay.
+
+He stood up, grabbing for his bag, and spinning the drummer aside. He jerked forward, and caught the driver's shoulder. "Getting off!"
+
+The driver shrugged his hand away. "Don't be crazy, mister! They -- " He turned, saw it was Gordon, and his face turned blank. "It's your life, buster," he said, and reached for the brake. "I'll give you five minutes to get into coveralls and helmet and out through the airlock."
+
+Gordon needed less than that; he'd practiced all the way from Earth. The transparent plastic of the coveralls went on easily enough, and his hands found the seals quickly. He slipped his few possessions into a bag at his belt, slid the knife into a spring holster above his wrist, and picked up the bowl-shaped helmet. It seated on a plastic seal, and the little air compressor at his back began to hum, ready to turn the thin wisp of Mars' atmosphere into a barely breathable pressure. He tested the Marspeaker -- an amplifier and speaker in another pouch, designed to raise the volume of his voice to a level where it would carry through even the air of Mars.
+
+The driver swore at the lash of sound, and grabbed for the airlock switch.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Gordon moved down unpaved streets that zig-zagged along, thick with the filth of garbage and poverty -- the part of Mars never seen in the newsreels, outside the shock movies. Thin kids with big eyes and sullen mouths crowded the streets in their airsuits, yelling profanity. The street was filled with people watching with a numbed hunger for any kind of excitement.
+
+It was late afternoon, obviously. Men were coming from the few bus routes, lugging tools and lunch baskets, slumped and beaten from labor in the atomic plants, the Martian conversion farms, and the industries that had come inevitably where inefficiency was better than the high prices of imports. The saloons were doing well enough, apparently, from the number that streamed in through their airlock entrances. But Gordon saw one of the bartenders paying money to a thickset person with an arrogant sneer; he knew then that the few profits from the cheap beer were never going home with the man. Storekeepers in the cheap little shops had the same lines on their faces as they saw on those of their customers.
+
+Poverty and misery were the keynotes here, rather than the evil half-world the drummer had babbled about. But to Gordon's trained eyes, there was plenty of outright rottenness, too.
+
+He grimaced, grateful that the supercharger on his airsuit filtered out some of the smell which the thin air carried. He'd thought he was familiar with human misery from his own Earth slum background. But there was no attempt to disguise it here.
+
+Ahead, Mother Corey's reared up -- a huge, ugly half-cylinder of pitted metal and native bricks, showing the patchwork of decades, before repairs had been abandoned. There were no windows, though once there had been; and the front was covered with a big sign that spelled out Condemned. The airseal was filthy, and there was no bell.
+
+Gordon kicked against the side, waited, and kicked again. A slit opened and closed. He waited, then drew his knife and began prying at the worn cement around the airseal, looking for the lock that had been there.
+
+The seal suddenly quivered, indicating that metal inside had been withdrawn. Gordon grinned tautly, stepped through, and pushed the blade against the inner plastic.
+
+"All right, all right," a voice whined out of the darkness. "You don't have to puncture my seal. You're in."
+
+"Then call them off!"
+
+A wheezing chuckle answered him, and a phosphor bulb glowed weakly, shedding some light on a filthy hall. "Okay, boys," the voice said, "come on down. He's alone, anyhow. What's pushing, stranger?"
+
+"A yellow ticket," Gordon told him, "and a government allotment that'll last me two weeks in the dome. I figure on making it last six here, and don't let my being a firster give you hot palms. My brother was Lanny Gordon!"
+
+It happened to be true, though Bruce Gordon hadn't seen his brother from the time the man had left the family, as a young punk, to the day they finally convicted him on his twenty-first murder. But here, if it was like places he'd known on Earth, even second-hand contact with "muscle" was useful.
+
+It seemed to work. A huge man oozed out of the shadows, his gray face contorting its doughy fat into a yellow-toothed grin, and a filthy hand waved back the others. There were a few wisps of long, gray hair on the head and face, and they quivered as he moved forward.
+
+"Looking for a room?" he whined.
+
+"I'm looking for Mother Corey."
+
+"Then you're looking at him, cobber. Sleep on the floor, want a bunk, squat with four, or room and duchess to yourself?"
+
+There was a period of haggling, followed by a wait as Mother Corey kicked four grumbling men out of a four-by-seven hole on the second floor. Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy. "All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue."
+
+It was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water. Plumbing, and such luxuries, apparently hadn't existed for years -- except for the small cistern and worn water-recovery plant in the basement, beside the tired-looking weeds in the hydroponic tanks that tried unsuccessfully to keep the air breathable.
+
+"What about a lock on the door?" Gordon asked.
+
+"What good would it do you? Got a different way here, we have. One credit a week, and you get Mother Corey's word nobody busts in. And it sticks, cobber -- one way or the other."
+
+Gordon paid, and tossed his pouch on the filthy bed. With a little work, the place could be cleaned enough.
+
+He pulled the cards out of his pouch, trying to be casual. Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him. "Where does a man eat around here?"
+
+Mother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips. "Eh? Oh. Eat. There's a place about ten blocks back. Cobber, stop teasing me! With elections coming up, and the boys loaded with vote money back in town -- with a deck of cheaters like that -- you want to eat?"
+
+He picked the deck up fondly, while a faraway look came into his clouded eyes. "Same ones -- same identical ones I wore out nigh twenty years ago. Smuggled two decks up here. Set to clean up -- and I did, for a while." He shook his head sadly, and handed the deck back to Gordon. "Come on down. For the sight of these, I'll give you the lay for your pitch. And when your luck's made or broken, remember Mother Corey was your friend first, and your old Mother can get longer use from them than you can."
+
+He waddled off, telling of his plans to take Mars for a cleaning, once long ago. Gordon followed him, staring at the surrounding filth.
+
+His thoughts were churning so busily that he didn't see the blonde girl until she had forced her way past them on the stairs. Then he turned back, but she had vanished into one of the rooms.
+
+Chapter II
+
+HONEST IZZY
+
+A lot could be done in ten days, when a man knew what he was after. It was exactly ten days later. Bruce Gordon stood in the motley crowd inside the barnlike room where Fats ran a bar along one wall, and filled the rest of the space with assorted tables -- all worn. Gordon was sweating slightly as he stood at the roulette table, where both zero and double-zero were reserved for the house.
+
+The croupier was a little wizened man wanted on Earth. His eyes darted down to the point of the knife that showed under Gordon's sleeve, and he licked his lips, showing snaggled teeth. The wheel hesitated and came to a halt, with the ball trembling in a pocket.
+
+"Twenty-one wins again." He pushed chips toward Gordon, as if every one of them came out of his own pay. "Place your bets."
+
+Two others around the table watched narrowly as Gordon left his chips where they were; they then exchanged looks and shook their heads. In a Martian roulette game, numbers with that much riding just didn't turn up. The croupier shifted his weight, then caught the wheel and spun it savagely.
+
+Gordon's leg ached from his strained position, but he shifted his weight onto it more heavily, and sweat popped out on the croupier's face. His eyes darted down, to where the full weight of Gordon seemed to rest on the heel that was grinding into his instep. He tried to pull his foot off the button that was concealed in the floor.
+
+The heel ground harder, bringing a groan from him. And the ball hovered over Twenty-one and came to rest there once more.
+
+Slowly, painfully, the little man counted stacks of chips and moved them across the table toward Gordon, his hands trembling.
+
+Gordon straightened from his awkward position, drawing his foot back, and reached out for the pile of chips. Then he scooped it up and nodded. "Okay. I'm not greedy."
+
+The strain of watching the games until he could spot the fix, and then holding the croupier down, had left him momentarily weak, but Gordon could still feel the tensing of the crowd. Now he let his eyes run over them -- the night citizens of Marsport, lower-dome section. Spacemen who'd missed their ships; men who'd come here with dreams, and stayed without them -- the shopkeepers who couldn't meet their graft and were here to try to win it on a last chance; street women and petty grifters. The air was thick with their unwashed bodies -- all Mars smelled, since water was still too rare for frequent bathing -- and their cheap perfume, and clouded with cheap Marsweed cigarettes.
+
+Gordon swung where their eyes pointed, until he saw Fats Eller sidling through the groups, then let the knife slip into the palm of his hand as the crowd seemed to hold its breath. Fats plucked a sheaf of Martian bank notes from his pocket and tossed them to the croupier.
+
+"Cash in his chips." Then his pouchy eyes turned to Gordon. "Get your money, punk, and get out! And stay out!"
+
+For a moment, as he began pocketing the bills, Gordon thought he was going to get away that easily. Fats watched him dourly, then swung on his heel, just as a shrill, strangled cry went up from someone in the crowd.
+
+The deportee let his glance jerk to it, then froze. His eyes caught the sight of a hand pointing behind him, and he knew it was too crude a trick to bother with. But he paused, shocked to see the girl he'd seen on Mother Corey's stairs gazing at him in well-feigned warning. In spite of his better judgment, she caught his eyes and drew them down over curves and swells that would always be right for arousing a man's passion.
+
+He glanced back at Fats, who had started to turn again. Gordon took a step backwards, preparing to duck. Again the girl's finger motioned behind him; he disregarded it -- and then realized it was a mistake.
+
+It was the faintest swish in the air that caught his ear; he brought his shoulders up and his head down. Fast as his reaction was, it was almost too late. The weapon crunched against his shoulder and slammed over the back of his neck, almost knocking him out.
+
+His heel lashed back and caught the shin of the man behind him. Gordon's other leg spun him around, still crouching; the knife in his hand started coming up, sharp edge leading, and aimed for the belly of the bruiser who confronted him. The pug saw the blade and tried to check his lunge.
+
+Gordon felt the blade strike; but he was already pulling his swing, and it only gashed a long streak. The thug shrieked hoarsely and fell over. That left the way clear to the door; Bruce Gordon was through it and into the night in two soaring leaps. After only a few days on Mars, his legs were still hardened to Earth gravity, and he had more than a double advantage over the others.
+
+Outside, it was the usual Martian night in the poorer section of the dome, which meant near-darkness. Most of the street lights had never been installed -- graft had eaten up the appropriations, instead -- and the nearest one was around the corner, leaving the side of Fats' Place in the shadow. Gordon checked his speed, threw himself flat, and rolled back against the building, just beyond the steps that led to the street.
+
+Feet pounded out of the door above as Fats and the bouncer broke through. Gordon's hand had already knotted a couple of coins into his kerchief; he waited until the two turned uncertainly up the street and tossed it. It struck the wall near the corner, sailed on, and struck again at the edge of the unpaved street with a muffled sound.
+
+Fats and the other swung, just in time to see a bit of dust where it had hit. "Around the corner!" Fats yelled. "After him, and shoot!"
+
+In the shadows, Gordon jerked sharply. It was rare enough to have a gun here; but to use one inside the dome was unthinkable. His eyes shot up, to where the few dim lights were reflected off the great plastic sheet that was held up by air pressure and reinforced with heavy webbing. It was the biggest dome ever built -- large enough to cover all of Marsport before the slums sprawled out beyond it; it still covered half the city, and made breathing possible here without a helmet. But the dome wasn't designed to stand stray bullets; and having firearms inside it -- except for a few chosen men -- was a crime punishable by death.
+
+Fats had swung back, and was now herding the crowd inside his place. He might have been only a small gambling-house owner, but within his own circle his words carried weight.
+
+Gordon got to his hands and knees and began crawling away from the corner. He came to a dark alley, smelling of decay where garbage had piled up without being carted away. Beyond lay a lighted street, and a sign that announced Mooney's Amusement Palace -- Drinks Free to Patrons! He looked up and down the street, then walked briskly toward the somewhat plusher gambling hall there. Fats couldn't touch him in a competitor's place.
+
+Inside Mooney's, he headed quickly for the dice table. He lost steadily on small bets for half an hour, admiring the skilled palming of the "odds" cubes. The loss was only a tiny dent in his new pile, but Gordon bemoaned it properly -- as if he were broke -- and moved over to the bar. This one had seats. The bartender had a consolation boilermaker waiting; he gulped half of it before he realized it had been needled with ether.
+
+Beside him, a cop was drinking the same slowly, watching another policeman at a Canfield game. He was obviously winning, and now he got up and came over to cash in his chips.
+
+"You'd think they'd lose count once in a while," he complained to his companion. "But nope -- fifty even a night, no more ... Well, come on, Pete. We'd better get back to Fats and tell him the swindler got away."
+
+Gordon followed them out and turned south, down the street toward the edge of the dome and the entrance where he'd parked his airsuit and helmet. He kept glancing back, whenever he was in the thicker shadows, but there seemed to be no one following him.
+
+At the gate of the dome, he looked back again, then ducked into the locker building. He threaded through the maze of the lockers with his knife ready in his hand, trying not to attract suspicion. At this hour, though, most of the place was empty. The crowds of foremen and deliverymen who'd be going in and out through the day were lacking.
+
+He found his suit and helmet and clamped them on quickly, transferring the knife to its spring sheath outside the suit. He checked the tiny batteries that were recharged by generators in the soles of the boots with every step. Then he paid his toll for the opening of the private slit and went through, into the darkness outside the dome.
+
+Lights bobbed about -- police in pairs, patrolling in the better streets, walking as far from the houses as they could; a few groups, depending on numbers for safety; some of the very poor, stumbling about and hoping for a drink somehow; and probably hoods from the gangs that ruled the nights here.
+
+Gordon left his torch unlighted, and moved along; there was a little illumination from the phosphorescent markers at some of the corners, and from the stars. He could just make his way without marking himself with a light.
+
+Damn it, he should have hired a few of the younger bums from Mother Corey's. Here he couldn't hear footsteps. He located a pair of patrolling cops, and followed them down one street, until they swung off. Then he was on his own again.
+
+"Gov'nor!" The word barely reached him, and Bruce Gordon spun around, the knife twitching into his hand. It was a thin kid of perhaps eighteen behind him, carrying a torch that was filtered to bare visibility. It swung up, and he saw a pock-marked face that was twisted in a smile meant to be ingratiating.
+
+"You've got a pad on your tail," the kid said, again as low as his amplifier would permit. "Need a convoy?"
+
+Gordon studied him briefly, and grinned. Then his grin wiped out as the kid's arm flashed to his shoulder and back, a series of quick jerks that seemed almost a blur. Four knives stood buried in the ground at Gordon's feet, forming a square -- and a fifth was in the kid's hand.
+
+"How much?" he asked, as the kid scooped up the blades and shoved them expertly back into shoulder sheaths. The kid's hand shaped a C quickly, and Gordon slipped his arm through a self-sealing slit in the airsuit and brought out two of them.
+
+"Thanks, gov'nor," the kid said, stowing them away. "You won't regret it." Gordon started to turn. Then the kid's voice rose sharply to a yell. "Okay, honey, he's the Joe!"
+
+Out of the darkness, ten to a dozen figures loomed up. The kid had jumped aside with a lithe leap, and now stood between Gordon and the group moving in for the kill. Gordon swung to run, and found himself surrounded. His eyes flickered around, trying to spot something in the darkness that would give him shelter.
+
+A bludgeon was suddenly hurtling toward him, and he ducked it, his blood thick in his throat and his ears ringing with the same pressure of fear he'd always known just before he was kayoed in the ring. Then he selected what he hoped was the thinnest section of the attackers and leaped forward. With luck, he might jump over them, using his Earth strength.
+
+There was a flicker of dawnlight in the sky, now, however; and he made out others behind, ready for just such a move. He changed his lunge in mid-stride, and brought his arm back with the knife. It met a small round shield on the arm of the man he had chosen, and was deflected at once.
+
+"Give 'em hell, gov'nor," the kid's voice yelled, and the little figure was beside him, a shower of blades seeming to leap from his hand in the glare of his bare torch. Shields caught them frantically, and then the kid was in with a heavy club he'd torn from someone's hand.
+
+Gordon had no time to consider his sudden traitor-ally. He bent to the ground, seizing the first rocks he could find, and threw them. One of the hoods dropped his club in ducking; Gordon caught it up and swung in a single motion that stretched the other out.
+
+Then it was a melée. The kid's open torch, stuck on his helmet, gave them light enough, until Gordon could switch on his own. Then the kid dropped behind him, fighting back-to-back. Here, in close quarters, the attackers were no longer using knives. One might be turned on its owner, and a slit suit meant death by asphyxiation.
+
+Gordon saw the blonde girl on the outskirts, her face taut and glowing. He tried to reach her with a thrown club wrested from another man, but she leaped nimbly aside, shouting commands.
+
+Two burly goons were suddenly working together. Gordon swung at one, ducked a blow from the other, and then saw the first swinging again. He tried to bring his club up -- but knew it was too late. A dull weight hit the side of his head, and he felt himself falling.
+
+* * * * *
+
+It took only minutes for dawn to become day on Mars, and the sun was lighting up the messy section of back street when Bruce Gordon's eyes opened and the pain of sight struck his aching head. He groaned, then looked frantically for the puff of escaping air. But his suit was still sealed. Ahead of him, the kid lay sprawled out, blood trickling from an ugly bruise along his jaw.
+
+Then Gordon felt something on his suit, and his eyes darted to hands just finishing an emergency patch. His eyes darted up and met those of the blonde vixen!
+
+Amazement kept him motionless for a second. There were tears in the eyes of the girl, and a sniffling sound reached him through her Marspeaker. Apparently, she hadn't noticed that he had revived, though her eyes were on him. She finished the patch, and ran perma-sealer over it. Then she began putting her supplies away, tucking them into a bag that held notes that could only have been stolen from his pockets -- her share of the loot, apparently.
+
+He was still thinking clumsily as she got to her feet and turned to leave. She cast a glance back, hesitated, and then began to move off.
+
+He got his feet under him slowly, but he was reviving enough to stand the pain in his head. He came to his feet, and leaped after her. In the thin air, his lunge was silent, and he was grabbing her before she knew he was up.
+
+She swung with a single gasp, and her hand darted down for her knife, sweeping it up and toward him; he barely caught the wrist coming toward him. Then he had her firmly, bringing her arm back and up, until the knife fell from her fingers.
+
+She screamed and began writhing, twisting her hard young body like a boa constrictor in his hands. But he was stronger. He bent her back over his knee, until a mangled moan was coming from her speaker; then his foot kicked out, knocking her feet out from under her. He let her hit the ground, caught both her wrists in his, and brought his knee down on her throat, applying more pressure until she lay still. Then he reached for the pouch.
+
+"Damn you!" Her cry was more in anguish then it had been when he was threatening to break her back. "You damned firster, I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do. And after I saved your miserable life...."
+
+"Thanks for that," he grunted. "Next time don't be a fool. When you kill a man for his money, he doesn't feel very grateful for your reviving him."
+
+He started to count the money. About a tenth of what he had won -- not even enough to open a cheap poker den, let alone bribe his way back to Earth.
+
+The girl was out from under his knee at the first relaxation of pressure. Her hand scooped up the knife, and she came charging toward him, her mouth a taut slit across half-bared teeth. Gordon rolled out of her swing, and brought his foot up. It caught her squarely under the chin, and she went down and out.
+
+He picked up the scattered money and her knife, then made sure she was still breathing. He ran his hands over her, looking for a hiding place for more money; there was none.
+
+"Good work, gov'nor," the kid's thin voice approved, and Gordon swung to see the other getting up painfully. The kid grinned, rubbing his bruise. "No hard feelings, gov'nor, now! They paid me to stall you, so I did. You bonused me to protect you, and I bloody well tried. Honest Izzy, that's me. Gonna buy me a job as a cop. That's why I needed the scratch. Okay, gov'nor?"
+
+Gordon hauled back his hand to knock the other from his feet, and then dropped it. A grin writhed onto his face, and broke into sudden grudging laughter.
+
+"Okay, Izzy," he admitted. "For this stinking planet, I guess you're something of a saint. Come along, and we'll both apply for that job -- after I get my stuff."
+
+He might as well join the law. Security had wanted him to police their damned planet for them -- and he might as well do it officially.
+
+He tossed the girl's knife down beside her, motioned to Izzy, and began heading for Mother Corey's.
+
+Chapter III
+
+THE GRAFT IS GREEN
+
+Izzy seemed surprised when he found that Gordon was turning in to the quasi-secret entrance to Mother Corey's. "Coming here myself," he explained. "Mother got ahold of a load of snow, and sent me out to contact a big pusher. Coming back, the goons picked me up and gave me the job on you. Hey, Mother!"
+
+Bruce Gordon didn't ask how Mother Corey had acquired the dope. When Earth had deported all addicts two decades before, it had practically begged for dope smuggling.
+
+The gross hulk of Mother Corey appeared almost at once. "Izzy and Bruce. Didn't know you'd met, cobbers. Contact, Izzy?"
+
+"Ninety per cent for uncut," Izzy answered.
+
+They went up to Gordon's hole-in-the-wall, with Mother Corey wheezing behind, while the rotten wood of the stairs groaned under his grotesque bulk. At his questions, Gordon told the story tersely.
+
+Mother Corey nodded. "Same old angles, eh? Get enough to do the job, they mug you. Stop halfway, and the halls are closed to you. Pretty soon, they'll be trick-proof, anyhow; they're changing over to electric eyes. Eh, you haven't forgotten me, cobber?"
+
+Gordon hadn't. The old wreck had demanded five per cent of his winnings for tipping him off. Mother Corey had too many cheap hoods among his friends to be fooled with. Gordon counted out the money reluctantly, while Izzy explained that they were going to be cops.
+
+The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon. "Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by," he decided. "Don't do it, cobber. You're the wrong kind. You take what you're doing serious. When you set out to tinhorn a living, you're a crook. Get you in a cop's outfit, and you'll turn honest. No place here for an honest cop -- not with elections coming up, cobber. Well, I guess you gotta find out for yourself. Want a good room?"
+
+Gordon's lips twitched. "Thanks, Mother, but I'll be staying inside the dome, I guess."
+
+"So'll I," the old man gloated. "Setting in a chair all day, being an honest citizen. Cobber, I already own a joint there -- a nice one, they tell me. Lights. Two water closets. Big rooms, six-by-ten -- fifty of them, big enough for whole families. And strictly on the level, cobber. It's no hide-out, like this."
+
+He rolled the money in his greasy fingers. "Now, with what I get from the pusher, I can buy off that hot spot on the police blotter. I can go in the dome and walk around, just like you." His eyes watered, and a tear went dripping down his nose. "I'm getting old. They'll be calling me 'Grandmother' pretty soon. So I'm turning my Chicken House over to my granddaughter and I'm going honest. Want a room?"
+
+Gordon grinned, and nodded. Mother Corey knew the ropes, and could be trusted. "Didn't know you had a granddaughter."
+
+Izzy snorted, and Mother Corey grinned wolfishly. "You met her, cobber. The blonde you shook down! Came up from Earth eight years ago, looking for me. I sold her to the head of the East Point gang. Since she killed him, she's been doing pretty well on her own. Mostly. Except when she makes a fool of herself, like she did with you. But she'll come around to where I'm proud of her, yet.... If you two want to carry in the snow, collect, and turn it over to Commissioner Arliss for me -- I can't pass the dome till he gets it -- I'll give you both rooms for six months free. Except for the lights and water, of course."
+
+Izzy nodded, and Gordon shrugged. On Mars, it didn't seem odd to begin applying for a police job by carrying in narcotics. He wondered how they'd go about contacting the commissioner.
+
+But that turned out to be simple enough. After collecting, Izzy led the way into a section marked "Special Taxes" and whispered a few casual words. The man at the desk went into an office marked private, and came back a few minutes later.
+
+"Your friend has no record with us," he said in a routine voice. "I've checked through his tax forms, and they're all in order. We'll confirm officially, of course."
+
+* * * * *
+
+In the Applications section of the big Municipal Building, at the center of the dome, there was a long form to fill out at the desk; but the captain there had already had answers typed in.
+
+"Save time, boys," he said genially. "And time's valuable, ain't it? Ah, yes." He took the sums they had ready -- there was a standard price -- and stamped their forms. "And you'll want suits. Isaacs? Good, here's your receipt. And you, Corporal Gordon. Right. Get your suits one floor down, end of the hall. And report in eight tomorrow morning!"
+
+It was as simple as that. Bruce Gordon was lucky enough to get a fair fit in his suit. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be in uniform.
+
+Izzy was more businesslike. "Hope they don't give us too bad territory, gov'nor," he remarked. "Pickings are always a little lean on the first few beats, but you can work some fairly well."
+
+Gordon's chest fell; this was Mars!
+
+The room at the new Mother Corey's -- an unkempt old building near the edge of the dome -- proved to be livable, though it was a shock to see Mother Corey himself in a decent suit, and using perfume.
+
+The beat was in a shabby section where clerks and skilled laborers worked. It wasn't poor enough to offer the universal desperation that gave the gang hoodlums protective coloring, nor rich enough to have major rackets of its own.
+
+Izzy was disgusted. "Cripes! Hope they've got a few cheap pushers around that don't pay protection direct to the captain. You take that store; I'll go in this one!"
+
+The proprietor was a druggist who ran his own fountain where the synthetics that replaced honest Earth foods were compounded into sweet and sticky messes for the neighborhood kids. He looked up as Gordon came in; then his face fell. "New cop, eh? No wonder Gable collected yesterday, ahead of time. All right, you can look at my books. I've been paying fifty, but you'll have to wait until Friday."
+
+Gordon nodded and swung on his heel, surprised to find that his stomach was turning. The man obviously couldn't afford fifty credits a week. But it was the same all along the street. Even Izzy admitted finally that they'd have to wait.
+
+"That damned cop before us! He really tapped them! And we can't take less, so I guess we gotta wait until Friday."
+
+* * * * *
+
+The next day, Bruce Gordon made his first arrest. It was near the end of his shift, just as darkness was falling and the few lights were going on. He turned a corner and came to a short, heavy hoodlum backing out of a small liquor store with a knife in throwing position. The crook grunted as he started to turn and stumbled onto Gordon. His knife flashed up.
+
+Without the need to worry about an airsuit, Gordon moved in, his arm jerking forward. He clipped the crook on the inside of the elbow, while grabbing the wrist with his other hand. The man went sailing over Gordon's head, to crash into the side of the building. He let out a yell.
+
+Gordon rifled the hood's pockets, and located a roll of bills stuffed in. He dragged them out, before snapping cuffs on the man. Then he pulled the crook inside the store.
+
+A woman stood there, moaning over a pale man on the floor; blood oozed from a welt on the back of his head. There was both gratitude and resentment as she looked up at Gordon.
+
+"You'd better call the hospital," he told her sharply. "He may have a concussion. I've got the man who held you up."
+
+"Hospital?" Her voice broke into another wail. "And who can afford hospitals? All week we work, all hours. He's old, he can't handle the cases. I do that. Me! And then you come, and you get your money. And he comes for his protection. Papa is sick. Sick, do you hear? He sees a doctor, he buys medicine. Then Gable comes. This man comes. We can't pay him! So what do we get -- we get knifes in the faces, saps on the head -- a concussion, you tell me! And all the money -- the money we had to pay to get stocks to sell to pay off from the profits we don't make -- all of it, he wants! Hospitals! You think they give away at the hospitals free?"
+
+She fell to her knees, crying over the injured man.
+
+Gordon tossed the roll of bills onto the floor beside her; the injury seemed only a scalp wound, and the old man was already beginning to groan. He opened his eyes and saw the bills in front of him, at which the woman was staring unbelievingly. His hand darted out, clutching it. "God!" he moaned softly, and his eyes turned up slowly to Gordon.
+
+"In there!" It was a shout from outside. Gordon had just time to straighten up before the doorway was filled with two knife-men and a heavier one behind them.
+
+His hands dropped to the handcuffed man on the floor, and he caught him up with a jerk, slapping his body back against the counter. He took a step forward, jerking his hands up and putting his Earth-adapted shoulders behind it. The hood sailed up and struck the two knife-men squarely.
+
+There was a scream as their automatic attempts to save themselves buried both knives in the body of their friend. Then they went crashing down, and Gordon was over them.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The desk captain at the precinct house groaned as they came in, then shook his head. "Damn it," he said. "I suppose it can't be helped, though; you're new, Gordon. Hennessy, get the corpse to the morgue, and mark it down as a robbery attempt. I'm going to have to book you and your men, Mr. Jurgens!"
+
+The heavy leader of the two angry knife-men grinned. "Okay, Captain. But it's going to slow down the work I'm doing on the Mayor's campaign for re-election! Damn that Maxie -- I told him to be discreet. Hey, you know what you've got, though -- a real considerate man! He gave the old guy his money back!"
+
+They took Bruce Gordon's testimony, and sent him home.
+
+Jurgens was waiting for him when he came on the beat. From his look of having slept well, he must have been out almost as soon as he was booked. Two other men stood behind Gordon, while Jurgens explained that he didn't like being interrupted on business calls "about the Mayor's campaign, or anything else," and that next time there'd be real hard feelings. Gordon was surprised when he wasn't beaten, but not when the racketeer suggested that any money found at a crime was evidence and should go to the police. The captain had told him the same.
+
+By Friday, he had learned. He made his collections early. Gable had sold him the list of what was expected, and he used it, though he cut down the figures in a few cases. There was no sense in killing the geese that laid the eggs.
+
+The couple at the liquor store had their payment waiting, and they handed it over, looking embarrassed. It wasn't until he was gone that he found a small bottle of fairly good whiskey tucked into his pouch. He started to throw it away, and then lifted it to his lips. Maybe they'd known how he felt better than he had. Mother Corey's words about his change of attitude came back. Damn it, he had to dig up enough money to get back to Earth.
+
+He collected, down to the last account. It was a nice haul; at that rate, he'd have to stand it only for a few months. Then Gordon's lips twisted, as he realized it wasn't all gravy. There were angles, or the price of a corporalcy would have been higher.
+
+One of the older men answered his questions. "Fifty per cent of the take to the Orphan's and Widow's fund. Better make it more than Gable turned in, if you want to get a better beat."
+
+The envelopes were lying on a table marked "Voluntary Donations"; Gordon filled his out, with a figure a bit higher than half of Gable's take, and dropped it in the box. The captain, who had been watching him carefully, settled back and smiled.
+
+"Widows and Orphans sure appreciate a good man," he said. "I was kind of worried about you, Gordon, but you got a nice touch. One of my new boys -- Isaacs, you know him -- was out checking up after you, and the dopes seem to like you."
+
+Gordon had wondered why Izzy had been pulled off the beat. As he turned to leave, the captain held up a hand. "Special meeting tomorrow. We gotta see about getting out a good vote. Election only three weeks away."
+
+Gordon went home. He'd learned by now that the native Martians -- those who'd been here for at least thirty years, or had been born here -- were backing a reform candidate and new ticket. But Mayor Wayne had all of the rest of the town in his hand. He'd been in twice, and had lifted the graft take by a truly remarkable figure. From where Gordon stood, it looked like a clear victory for the reformer, Nolan.
+
+He went into the meeting willing to agree to anything. He applauded all the speeches about how much Mayor Wayne had done for them, and signed the pledge expressing his confidence, along with the implied duty he had to make his beat vote right. Then he stopped, as the captain stood up.
+
+"We gotta be neutral, boys," he boomed. "But it don't mean we can't show how well we like the Mayor. Just remember, he got us our jobs! Now I figure we can all kick in a little to help his campaign. I'm going to start it off with five thousand credits, two thousand of them right now."
+
+They fell in line, though there was no cheering. The price might have been fixed in advance. A thousand for a plain cop, fifteen hundred for a corporal, and so on, each contributing a third of it now. Gordon grimaced; he had six hundred left. This would take nearly all of it.
+
+A man named Fell shook his head, fearfully. "Can't do a thing now. My wife had a baby and an operation, and -- -- "
+
+"Okay, Fell," the captain said, without a sign of disapproval. "Freitag, what about you? Fine, fine!"
+
+Gordon's name came, and he shook his head. "I'm new -- and I'm strapped now. I'd like -- -- "
+
+"Quite all right, Gordon," the captain boomed. "Harwick!"
+
+He finished the roll, and settled back, smiling. "I guess that's all, boys. Thanks from the Mayor. And go on home.... Oh, Fell, Gordon, Lativsky -- stick around. I've got some overtime for you, since you need extra money. The boys out in Ward Three are shorthanded. Afraid I'll have to order you out there!"
+
+* * * * *
+
+Ward Three was the hangout of a cheap gang of hoodlums, numbering some four hundred, who went in for small crimes mostly. But they had recently declared war on the cops.
+
+After eight hours of overtime, Gordon reported in with every bone sore from small missiles, and his suit filthy from assorted muck. He had a beautiful shiner where a stone had clipped him.
+
+The captain smiled. "Rough, eh? But I hear robbery went down on your beat last night. Fine work, Gordon. We need men like you. Hate to do it, but I'm afraid you'll have to take the next shift at Main and Broad, directing traffic. The usual man is sick, and you're the only one I can trust with the job!"
+
+Gordon stuck it out, somehow, but it wasn't worth it. He reported back to the precinct with the five hundred in his hand, and his pen itching for the donation agreement.
+
+The captain took it, and nodded. "I wasn't kidding about your being a good man, Gordon. Go home and get some sleep, take the next day off. After that, we've got a new job for you!"
+
+Chapter IV
+
+CAPTAIN MURDOCH
+
+The new assignment was to the roughest section in all Marsport -- the slum area beyond the dome, out near the rocket field. Here all the riffraff that had been unable to establish itself in better quarters had found some sort of a haven. At one time, there had been a small dome and a tiny city devoted to the rocket field. But Marsport had flourished enough to kill it off. The dome had failed from neglect, and the buildings inside had grown shabbier.
+
+Bruce Gordon was trapped; he couldn't break his job with the police -- if he did, he'd be brought back as a criminal. Some of Mars' laws dated from the time when law enforcement had been hampered by lack of men, rather than by the type of men.
+
+The Stonewall gang numbered perhaps five hundred. They hired out members to other gangs, during the frequent wars. Between times, they picked up what they could by mugging and theft, with a reasonable amount of murder thrown in at a modest price.
+
+Even derelicts and failures had to eat; there were stores and shops throughout the district which eked out some kind of a marginal living. They were safe from protection racketeers there -- none bothered to come so far out. And police had been taken off the beats there after it grew unsafe even for men in pairs to patrol the area.
+
+The shopkeepers, and some of the less unfortunate people there, had protested loud enough to reach clear back to Earth. Marsport had hired a man from Earth to come in and act as chief of the section. Captain Murdoch was an unknown factor, and now was asking for more men. The pressure was enough to get them for him.
+
+Gordon reported for work with a sense of the bottom falling out, mixed with a vague relief.
+
+"You're going to be busy," Murdoch announced shortly in the dilapidated building that had been hastily converted to a precinct house. "Damn it, you're men, not sharks. I've got a free hand, and we're going to run this the way we would on Earth. Your job is to protect the citizens here -- and that means everyone not breaking the laws -- whether you feel like it or not. No graft. The first man making a shakedown will get the same treatment we're going to use on the Stonewall boys. You'll get double pay here, and you can live on it!"
+
+He opened up a box on his desk and pulled out six heavy wooden sticks, each thirty inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. There was a shaped grip on each, with a thong of leather to hold it over the wrist.
+
+He picked out five of the men, including Gordon "You five will come with me. I'm going to show how we operate. The rest of you can team up any way you want tonight, pick any route that's open. Okay, men, let's go."
+
+Bruce Gordon grinned slowly as he swung the stick, and Murdoch's eyes fell on him. "Earth cop!"
+
+"Two years," Gordon admitted.
+
+"Then you should be ashamed to be in this mess. But whatever your reasons, you'll be useful. Take those two and give them some lessons, while I do the same with these."
+
+For a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be a squad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. At double standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to pay for passage back to Earth in three years -- if Security let him. Otherwise, it would take thirty.
+
+He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get in touch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?
+
+There was a crude lighting system here, put up by the citizens. At the front of each building, a dim phosphor bulb glowed; when darkness fell, they would have nothing else to see by.
+
+Murdoch bunched them together. "A good clubbing beats hanging," he told them. "But it has to be good. Go in for business, and don't stop just because the other guy quits. Give them hell!"
+
+Moving in two groups of threes, at opposite sides of the street, they began their beat. They were covering an area of six blocks one way, and two the other.
+
+They had traveled the six blocks and were turning down a side street when they found their first case; it was still daylight. Two of the Stonewall boys were working over a tall man in a newer airsuit. As the police swung around, one of the thugs casually ripped the airsuit open.
+
+A thin screech like a whistle came from Murdoch's Marspeaker, and the captain went forward, with Gordon at his heels. The hoodlums tossed the man aside easily, and let out a yell. From the buildings around, an assortment of toughs came at the double, swinging knives, picks, and bludgeons.
+
+There was no chance to save the citizen, who was dying from lack of air. Gordon felt the solid pleasure of the finely turned club in his hands. It was light enough for speed, but heavy enough to break bones where it hit. A skilled man could knock a knife, or even a heavy club, out of another's hand with a single flick of the wrist. And he'd had practice.
+
+He saw Murdoch's club dart in and take out two of the gang, one on the forward swing, one on the recover. Gordon's eyes popped at that. The man was totally unlike a Martian captain, and a knot of homesickness for Earth ran through his stomach.
+
+He swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing beside Murdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come in reluctantly.
+
+"Knock them out and kick them down!" Murdoch yelled. "And don't let them get away!"
+
+Gordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought him to the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.
+
+It was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of the cops started off. Murdoch called, "Where are you going?"
+
+"To find a phone and call the wagon."
+
+"We're not using wagons," Murdoch told him. "Line them up."
+
+When the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facing police with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; if they stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, the pugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.
+
+Murdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt. "Take him aside. Names."
+
+Gordon found a section away from the others. "I want the name of every man in the gang you can remember," he told the man.
+
+Horror shot over the other's bruised features. "Colonel, they'd kill me! I don't know."
+
+His screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come. Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.
+
+Murdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretched toughs. "He squealed," he announced. "If he should turn up dead, I'll know you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of this district, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees one of you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that the Stonewall gang is dead!"
+
+He turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordon nodded. "I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Suppose the whole gang jumps us at once?"
+
+Murdoch shrugged. "Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea from didn't mention that."
+
+* * * * *
+
+Trouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studying the cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a second squad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to melt away.
+
+"We'd better shift to another territory," Murdoch decided. Gordon realized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police here meant other territories would be safe.
+
+Two more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordon spotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-looking spectacle.
+
+Murdoch nodded. "Object lesson!"
+
+The one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that he believed in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turned to two of the other captives.
+
+"Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs," he ordered. "I'm leaving you two able to walk for that. But if you get caught again, you'll get still worse."
+
+The squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in the brawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admiration in their eyes for Murdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.
+
+Gordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silent most of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing. "Poor devils!"
+
+Gordon jerked up in surprise. "The gang?"
+
+"No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But the Stonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figures it will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and then the boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides, it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I can always go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's going to be tough on them."
+
+Bruce Gordon grimaced. "I've got a yellow ticket, from Security."
+
+Murdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. "So you're that Gordon? But you're still a good cop."
+
+They rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease the tension. He found himself liking the other.
+
+"What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, except a gang of crooks and those in power."
+
+Murdoch grinned bitterly. "Ever see a Martian election? No, you're a firster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this whole planet may be blown wide open!"
+
+It fitted with the dire predictions of Security, and with the spying Gordon was going to do -- according to them.
+
+He discussed it with Mother Corey, who agreed that Wayne would be re-elected.
+
+"Can't lose," the old man said. He was getting even fatter, now that he was eating better food from the fair restaurant around the corner.
+
+"He'll win," Mother Corey repeated. "And you'll turn honest all over, now you're in uniform. Take me, cobber. I figured on laying low for a while, then opening up a few rooms for a good pusher or two, maybe a high-class duchess. Cost 'em more, but they'd be respectable. Only now I'm respectable myself, they don't look so good. But this honesty stuff, it's like dope. You start out on a little, and you have to go all the way."
+
+"It didn't affect Honest Izzy," Gordon pointed out.
+
+"Nope. Because Izzy is always honest, according to how he sees it. But you got Earth ideas of the stuff, like I had once. Too bad." He sighed ponderously.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The week moved on. The groups grew more experienced, and Murdoch was training a new squad every night. Gordon's own squad was equipped with shields now, and they were doing better. The number of muggings and holdups in the section was going down. They seldom saw a man after he'd been treated.
+
+One of the squads was jumped by a gang of about forty, and two of the men were killed before the nearest other squad could pull a rear attack. That day the whole force worked overtime hunting for the men who had escaped; and by evening the Stonewall boys had received proof that it didn't pay to go against the police in large numbers.
+
+After that, they began to go hunting for the members of the gang. They had the names of nearly all of them, and some pretty good ideas of their hide-outs.
+
+It wasn't exactly legal; but nothing was, here. If a doctor's job was to prevent illness, instead of merely curing it, then why shouldn't it be a policeman's job to prevent crime? Here, that was best done by wiping out the Stonewall gang to the last member.
+
+This could lead to abuses, as he'd seen on Earth. But there probably wouldn't be time for it if Mayor Wayne was re-elected.
+
+The gang had begun to break up, but the nucleus would be the last to go. The police had orders to beat any member on sight, now. Citizens were appearing on the streets at night for the first time in years. And there were smiles -- hungry, beaten smiles, but still genuine ones -- for the cops.
+
+Chapter V
+
+RECALL
+
+It was night outside, and the phosphor bulbs at the corners glowed dimly, giving him barely enough light by which to locate the way to the extemporized precinct house. Bruce Gordon reached the outskirts of the miserable business section, noticing that a couple of the shops were still open. It had probably been years since any had dared risk it after the sun went down. And the slow, doubtful respect on the faces of the citizens as they nodded to him was even more proof that Haley's system was working. Gordon nodded to a couple, and they grinned faintly at him. Damn it, Mars could be cleaned up....
+
+He grinned at himself, then something needled at his mind, until he swung back. The man who had just passed was carrying a lunch basket, and was wearing the coveralls of one of the crop-prospector crews; but the expression on his face had been wrong.
+
+Red hair, too heavily built, a lighter section where a mustache had been shaved and the skin not quite perfectly powdered.... Gordon moved forward quickly, until he could make out the thin scar showing through the make-up over the man's eyes. He'd been right -- this was O'Neill, head of the Stonewall gang.
+
+Gordon hit the signal switch, and the Marspeaker let out a shrill whistle. O'Neill had turned to run, and then seemed to think better of it. His hand darted down to his belt, just as Gordon reached him.
+
+The heavy locust stick met the man's wrist before the weapon was half drawn -- another gun! Guns suddenly seemed to be flourishing everywhere. The gun dropped from O'Neill's hand as the wrist snapped, and the Stonewall chief let out a high-pitched cry of pain. Then another cop came around a corner at a run.
+
+"You can't do it to me! I'm reformed; I'm going straight! You damned cops can't...." O'Neill was blubbering. The small crowd that was collecting was all to the good, Gordon knew, and he let O'Neill go on. Nothing could help break up the gangs more than having a leader break down in public.
+
+The other cop had yanked out O'Neill's wallet, and now tossed it to Gordon. One look was enough -- the work papers had the telltale over-thickening of the signature that had showed up on other papers, obviously forgeries. The cops had been passing them on the hope of finding one of the leaders.
+
+Some turned away as Gordon and the other cop went to work, but most of them weren't squeamish. When it was over, the two picked up their whimpering captive. Gordon pocketed the revolver with his free hand. "Walk, O'Neill!" he ordered. "Your legs are still whole. Use them!"
+
+The man staggered between them, whimpering at each step. If any members of the gang were around, they made no attempt to rescue him.
+
+Jenkins, the other cop, had been holding the wallet. Now he held it out toward Gordon. "The gee was heeled, Corporal. Must of been making a big contact in something. Fifty-fifty?"
+
+"Turn it in to Murdoch," Gordon said, and then cursed himself. There must have been over two thousand credits in the wallet.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The captain's face had been buried in a pile of papers, but now Murdoch came around to stare at the gang leader. He inspected the forged work papers, and jerked his thumb toward one of the hastily built cells where a doctor would look O'Neill over -- eventually. When Gordon and Jenkins came back, Murdoch tossed the money to them. "Split it. You guys earned it by keeping your hands off it. Anyhow, you're as entitled to it as he was -- or the grafters back at Police Headquarters. I never saw it. Gordon, you've got a visitor!"
+
+His voice was bitter, but he made no opening for them to question him as he picked up the papers and began going through them again. Gordon went down the passage to the end of the hall, in the direction Murdoch had indicated. Waiting for him was the lean, cynical little figure of Honest Izzy, complete with uniform and sergeant's stripes.
+
+"Hi, gov'nor," the little man greeted him. "Long time no see. With you out here and me busy nights doing a bit of convoy work on the side, we might as well not both live at Mother's."
+
+Bruce Gordon nodded, grinning in spite of himself. "Convoy duty, Izzy? Or dope running?"
+
+"Whatever comes to hand, gov'nor. The Force pays for my time during the day, and I figure my time's my own at night. Of course, if I ever catch myself doing anything shady during the day, I'll have to turn myself in. But it ain't likely." He grinned in satisfaction. "Now that I've dug up the scratch to buy these stripes and get made sergeant -- and that takes the real crackle -- I'm figuring on taking it easy."
+
+"Like this social call?" Gordon asked him.
+
+The little man shook his head, his ancient eighteen-year-old face turning sober. "Nope. I've been meaning to see you, so I volunteered to run out some red tape for your captain. You owe me some bills, gov'nor. Eleven hundred fifty credits. You didn't pay up your pledge to the campaign fund, so I hadda fill in. A thousand, interest at ten per cent a week, standard. Right?"
+
+Gordon had heard of the friendly interest charged on the side here, but he shook his head. "Wrong, Izzy. If they want to collect that dratted pledge of theirs, let them put me where I can make it. There's no graft out here."
+
+"Huh?" Izzy turned it over, and shook his head. Finally he shrugged. "Don't matter, gov'nor. Nothing about that in the pledge, and when you sign something, you gotta pay it. You gotta."
+
+"All right," Gordon admitted. He was suddenly in no mood to quibble with Izzy's personal code. "So you paid it. Now show me where I signed any agreement saying I'd pay you back!"
+
+For a second, Izzy's face went blank; then he chuckled. "Jet me! You're right, gov'nor. I sure asked for that one. Okay; I'm bloody well suckered, so forget it."
+
+Gordon shrugged and gave up. He pulled out the bills and handed them over. "Thanks, Izzy."
+
+"Thanks, yourself." The kid pocketed the money cheerfully, nodding. "Buy you a beer. Anyhow, you won't miss it. I came out to tell you I got the sweetest beat in Marsport -- over a dozen gambling joints on it -- and I need a right gee to work it with me. So you're it!"
+
+For a moment, Gordon wondered what Izzy had done to earn that beat, but he could guess. The little guy knew Mars as few others did, apparently, from all sides. And if any of the other cops had private rackets of their own, Izzy was undoubtedly the man to find it out, and use the information. With a beat such as that, even going halves, and with all the graft to the upper brackets, he'd still be able to make his pile in a matter of months.
+
+But he shook his head. "I'm assigned here, Izzy, at least for another week, until after elections...."
+
+"Better take him up, Gordon," Murdoch told him bitterly. The captain looked completely beaten as he came into the room and dropped onto the bench. "Go on, accept, damn it. You're not assigned here any more. None of us are. Mayor Wayne found an old clause in the charter and got a rigged decision, pulling me back under his full authority. I thought I had full responsibility to Earth, but he's got me. Wearing their uniform makes me a temporary citizen! So we're being smothered back into the Force, and they'll have their patsies out here, setting things up for the Stonewall boys to come back by election time. So grab while the grabbing's good, because by tomorrow morning I'll have this all closed down!"
+
+He shook off Gordon's hand and stood up roughly, to head back up the hallway. Then he stopped and looked back. "One thing, though, I've still got enough authority to make you a sergeant. It's been a pleasure working with you, Sergeant Gordon!"
+
+He swung out of view abruptly, leaving Gordon with a heavy weight in his stomach. Izzy whistled, and began picking up his helmet, preparing to go outside. "So that's the dope I brought out, eh? Takes it kind of hard, doesn't he?"
+
+"Yeah," Gordon answered. There was no use trying to explain it to Izzy. "Yeah, we do. Come on."
+
+Outside, Gordon saw other cops moving from house to house, and he realized that Murdoch must be sending out warnings to the citizens that things would soon be rough again.
+
+Izzy held out a hand to Gordon. "Let's get a beer, gov'nor -- on me!"
+
+It was as good an idea as any he had, Gordon decided. He might as well enjoy what life he still had while he could. The Stonewall gang -- what was left of it -- and all its friends would be gunning for him now. The Force wouldn't have been fooled when Izzy paid his pledge, and they'd mark him down as disloyal -- if they didn't automatically mark down all who'd served under Murdoch. And he didn't have the ghost of an idea as to what Security wanted of him, or where they were hiding themselves.
+
+"Make it two beers, Izzy," he said. "Needled!"
+
+Chapter VI
+
+SEALED LETTER
+
+In the few days at the short-lived Nineteenth Precinct, Bruce Gordon had begun to feel like a cop again, but the feeling disappeared as he reported in at Captain Isaiah Trench's Seventh Precinct. Trench had once been a colonel in the Marines, before a court-martial and sundry unpleasantnesses had driven him off Earth. His dark, scowling face and lean body still bore a military air.
+
+He looked Bruce Gordon over sourly. "I've been reading your record. It stinks. Making trouble for Jurgens -- could have been charged as false arrest. No co-operation with your captain until he forced it; out in the sticks beating up helpless men. Now you come crawling back to your only friend, Isaacs. Well, I'll give it a try. But step out of line and I'll have you cleaning streets with your bare hands. All right, Corporal Gordon. Dismissed. Get to your beat."
+
+Gordon grinned wryly at the emphasis on his title. No need to ask what had happened to Murdoch's recommendation. He joined Izzy in the locker room, summing up the situation.
+
+"Yeah." Izzy looked worried, his thin face pinched in. "Maybe I didn't do you a favor, gov'nor, pulling you here. I dunno. I got some pics of Trench from a guy I know. That's how I got my beat so fast in the Seventh. But Trench ain't married, and I guess I've used up the touch. Maybe I could try it, though."
+
+"Forget it," Gordon told him. "I'll work it out somehow."
+
+The beat was a gold mine. It lay through the section where Gordon had first tried his luck on Mars. There were a dozen or so gambling joints, half a dozen cheap saloons, and a fair number of places listed as rooming houses, though they made no bones about the fact that all their permanent inhabitants were female. Then the beat swung off, past a row of small businesses and genuine rooming houses, before turning back to the main section.
+
+They began in the poorer section. It wasn't the day to collect the "tips" for good service, which had been an honest attempt to promote good police service before it became a racket. But they were met everywhere by sullen faces. Izzy explained it. The city had passed a new poll tax -- to pay for election booths, supposedly -- and had made the police collect it. Murdoch must have disregarded the order, but the rest of the force had been busy helping the administration.
+
+But once they hit the main stem, things were mere routine. The gambling joints took it for granted that beat cops had to be paid, and considered it part of their operating expense. The only problem was that Fats' Place was the first one on the list. Gordon didn't expect to be too welcome there.
+
+There was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup and dice and began shaking them.
+
+"High man for sixty," he said automatically, and expertly rolled bull's-eyes for a two. "Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew that knife on you the last time, Corporal."
+
+Gordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. "Accidents will happen, Fats."
+
+"Yeah." The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently. "How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you should have bought a captaincy."
+
+Gordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. "Well, that's Mars," he said, and turned back to his private quarters.
+
+Mostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon reached for it, twisting his lips.
+
+Izzy stopped him. "It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going to run a straight beat, or else!"
+
+That was followed by a call to remove a berserk spaceman from one of the so-called rooming houses. Gordon noticed that workmen were busy setting up a heavy wooden gate in front of the entrance to the place. There were a lot of such preparations going on for the forthcoming elections.
+
+Then the shift was over. But Gordon wasn't too surprised when his relief showed up two hours late; he'd half-expected some such nastiness from Trench. But he was surprised at the look on his tardy relief's face.
+
+The man seemed to avoid facing him, muttered, "Captain says report in person at once," and swung out of the scooter and onto his beat without further words.
+
+Gordon was met there by blank faces and averted looks, but someone nodded toward Trench's office, and he went inside. Trench sat chewing on a cigar. "Gordon, what does Security want with you?"
+
+"Security? Not a damned thing, if I can help it. They kicked me off Earth on a yellow ticket, if that's what you mean."
+
+"Yeah." Trench shoved a letter forward; it bore the "official business" seal of Solar Security, and was addressed to Corporal Bruce Gordon, Nineteenth Police Precinct, Marsport. Trench kept his eyes on it, his face filled with suspicion and the vague fear most men had for Security.
+
+"Yeah," he said again. "Okay, probably routine. Only next time, Gordon, put the facts on your record with the Force. If you're a deportee, it should show up. That's all!"
+
+Bruce Gordon went out, holding the envelope. The warning in Trench's voice wasn't for any omission on his record, he knew. He shoved the envelope into his belt pocket and waited until he was in his own room before opening it.
+
+It was terse, and unsigned.
+
+Report expected, overdue. Failure to observe duty will result in permanent resettlement to Mercury.
+
+He swore, coldly and methodically, while his stomach dug knots in itself. The damned, stupid, blundering fools! That was all Trench and the police gang had to see; it was obvious that the letter had been opened. Sure, report at once. Drop a letter in the mailbox, and the next morning it would be turned over to Commissioner Arliss' office. Report or be kicked off to a planet that Security felt enough worse than Mars to use as punishment! Report and find Mars a worse place than Mercury could ever be.
+
+He felt sick as he stood up to find paper and pen and write a terse, factual account of his own personal doings -- minus any hint of anything wrong with the system here. Security might think it was enough for the moment, and the local men might possibly decide it a mere required formality. At least it would stall things off for a while....
+
+But Gordon knew now that he could never hope to get back to Earth legally. That vague promise by Security was so much hogwash; yet it was surprising how much he had counted on it.
+
+He tore the envelope from Security into tiny shreds, too small for Mother Corey to make sense of, and went out to mail the letter, feeling the few bills in his pocket. As usual, less than a hundred credits.
+
+He passed a sound truck blatting out a campaign speech by candidate Nolan, filled with too-obvious facts about the present administration, together with hints that Wayne had paid to have Nolan assassinated. Gordon saw a crowd around it and was surprised, until he recognized them as Rafters -- men from the biggest of the gangs supporting Wayne. The few citizens on the street who drifted toward the truck took a good look at them and moved on hastily.
+
+It seemed incredible that Wayne could be re-elected, though, even with the power of the gangs. Nolan was probably a grafter, too; but he'd at least be a change, and certainly the citizens were aching for that.
+
+The next day his relief was later. Gordon waited, trying to swallow their petty punishments, but it went against the grain. Finally, he began making the rounds, acting as his own night man. The owners of the joints didn't care whether they paid the second daily dole to the same man or another, but they wouldn't pay it again that same night. He'd managed to tap most of the places before his relief showed. He made no comment, but dutifully filled out the proper portion of both takes for the Voluntary Donation box. It wouldn't do his record any good with Trench, but it should put an end to the overtime.
+
+Trench, however, had other ideas. The overtime continued, but it was dull after that -- which made it even more tiring. But the time he took a special release out to the spaceport was the worst. Seeing the big ship readying for take-off back to Earth....
+
+Then it was the day before election. The street was already bristling with barricades around the entrances, and everything ran with a last desperate restlessness, as if there would be no tomorrow. The operators all swore that Wayne would be elected, but seemed to fear a miracle. On the poorer section of the beat, there was a spiritless hope that Nolan might come in with his reform program. Men who would normally have been punctilious about their payments were avoiding Bruce Gordon, if in hope that, by putting it off a day or so, they could run into a period where no such payment would ever be asked -- or a smaller one, at least. And he was too tired to chase them down. His collections had been falling off already, and he knew that he'd be on the carpet for that, if he didn't do better. It was a rich territory, and required careful mining; even as the week had gone, he still had more money in his wallet than he had expected.
+
+But there had to be still more before night.
+
+He was lucky; he came on a pusher working one of the better houses -- long after his collections should have been over. He knew by the man's face that no protection had been paid higher up. The pusher was well-heeled; Gordon confiscated the money.
+
+This time, Izzy made no protest. Lifting the roll of anyone outside the enforced part of Mars' laws was apparently honest, in his eyes. He nodded, and pointed to the man's belt. "Pick up the snow, too."
+
+The pusher's face paled. He must have had his total capital with him, because stark ruin shone in his eyes. "Good God, Sergeant," he pleaded, "leave me something! I'll make it right. I'll cut you in. I gotta have some of that for myself!"
+
+Gordon grimaced. He couldn't work up any great sympathy for anyone who made a living out of drugs.
+
+They cleaned the pusher, and left him sitting on the steps, a picture of slumped misery. Izzy nodded approval. "Let him feel it a while. No sense jailing him yet. Bloody fool had no business starting without lining the groove. Anyhow, we'll get a bunch of credits for the stuff when we turn it in."
+
+"Credits?" Gordon asked.
+
+"Sure." Izzy patted the little package. "We get a quarter value. Captain probably gets fifty per cent from one of the pushers who's lined with him. Everybody's happy."
+
+"Why not push it ourselves?" Gordon asked in disgust.
+
+"Wouldn't be honest, gov'nor. Cops are supposed to turn it in."
+
+Trench was almost jovial when he weighed the package and examined it to find how much it had been cut. He issued them slips, which they added as part of the contributions. "Good work -- you, too, Gordon. Best week in the territory for a couple of months. I guess the citizens like you, the way they treat you." He laughed at his stale joke, and Gordon was willing to laugh with him. The credit on the dope had paid for most of the contributions. For once, he had money to show for the week.
+
+Then Trench motioned Bruce Gordon forward, and dismissed Izzy with a nod of his head. "Something to discuss, Gordon. Isaacs, we're holding a little meeting, so wait around. You're a sergeant already. But, Gordon, I'm offering you a chance. There aren't enough openings for all the good men, but.... Oh, bother the soft soap. We're still short on election funds, so there's a raffle. The two men holding winning tickets get bucked up to sergeants. A hundred credits a ticket. How many?"
+
+He frowned suddenly as Gordon counted out three bills. "You have a better chance with more tickets. A much better chance!"
+
+The hint was hardly veiled. Gordon stuck the tickets into his wallet. Mars was a fine planet for picking up easy money -- but holding it was another matter.
+
+Trench counted the money and put it away. "Thanks, Gordon. That fills my quota. Look, you've been on overtime all week. Why not skip the meeting? Isaacs can brief you, later. Go out and get drunk, or something."
+
+The comparative friendliness of the peace offering was probably the ultimate in graciousness from Trench. Idly, Gordon wondered what kind of pressures the captains were under; it must be pretty stiff, judging by the relief the man was showing at making quota.
+
+"Thanks," he said, but his voice was bitter in his ears. "I'll go home and rest. Drinking costs too much for what I make. It's a good thing you don't have income tax here."
+
+"We do," Trench said flatly; "forty per cent. Better make out a form next week, and start paying it regularly. But you can deduct your contributions here."
+
+Gordon got out before he learned more good news.
+
+Chapter VII
+
+ELECTIONEERING
+
+As Bruce Gordon came out from the precinct house, he noticed the sounds first. Under the huge dome that enclosed the main part of the city, the heavier air pressure permitted normal travel of sound; and he'd become sensitive to the voice of the city after the relative quiet of the Nineteenth Precinct. But now the normal noise was different. There was an undertone of hushed waiting, with the sharp bursts of hammering and last-minute work standing out sharply through it. Voting booths were being finished here and there, and at one a small truck was delivering ballots. Voting by machine had never been established here. Wherever the booths were being thrown up, the nearby establishments were rushing gates and barricades in front of the buildings.
+
+Most of the shops were already closed -- even some of the saloons. To make up for it, stands were being placed along the streets, carrying banners that proclaimed free beer for all loyal administration friends. The few bars that were still open had been blessed with the sign of some mob, and obviously were well staffed with hoodlums ready to protect the proprietor. Private houses were boarded up. The scattering of last-minute shoppers along the streets showed that most of the citizens were laying in supplies to last until after election.
+
+Gordon passed the First Marsport Bank and saw that it was surrounded by barbed wires, with other strands still being strung, and with a sign proclaiming that there was high voltage in the wires. Watching the operation was Jurgens; it was obvious that his hoodlums had been hired for the job.
+
+Toward the edge of the dome, where Mother Corey's place was, the narrower streets were filling with the gangs, already half-drunk and marching about with their banners and printed signs. Curiously enough, all the gangs weren't working for Wayne's re-election. The big Star Point gang had apparently grown tired of the increasing cost of protection from the government, and was actively campaigning for Nolan. Their home territory reached nearly to Mother Corey's, before it ran into the no man's land separating it from the gang of Nick the Croop. The Croopsters were loyal to Wayne.
+
+Gordon turned into his usual short-cut, past a rambling plastics plant and through the yard where their trucks were parked. He had half expected to find it barricaded, but apparently the rumors that Nick the Croop owned it were true; it would be protected in other ways, with the trucks used for street fighting, if needed. He threaded his way between two of the trucks.
+
+Then a yell reached his ears, and something swished at him. An egg-sized rock hit the truck behind him and bounced back, just as he spotted a hoodlum drawing back a sling for a second shot.
+
+Gordon was on his knees between heartbeats, darting under one of the trucks. He rolled to his feet, letting out a yell of his own, and plunged forward. His fist hit the thug in the elbow, just as the man's hand reached for his knife. His other hand chopped around, and the edge of his palm connected with the other's nose. Cartilage crunched, and a shrill cry of agony lanced out.
+
+But the hoodlum wasn't alone. Another came out from the rear of one of the trucks. Gordon ducked as a knife sailed for his head; they were stupid enough not to aim for his stomach, at least. He bent down to locate some of the rubble on the ground, cursing his folly in carrying his knife under his uniform. The new beat had given him a false sense of security.
+
+He found a couple of rocks and a bottle and let them fly, then bent for more.
+
+Something landed on his back, and fingernails were gouging into his face, searching for his eyes!
+
+Instinct carried him forward, jerking down sharply and twisting. The figure on his back sailed over his head, to land with a harsh thump on the ground. Brassy yellow hair spilled over a girl's face, and her breath slammed out of her throat as she hit. But the fall hadn't been enough to do serious damage.
+
+Bruce Gordon jumped forward, bringing his foot up in a savage swing, but she'd rolled, and the blow only glanced against her ribs. She jerked her hand down for a knife, and came to her knees, her lips drawn back against her teeth. "Get him!" she yelled. Then he recognized her -- Sheila Corey.
+
+The two thugs had held back, but now they began edging in. Gordon slipped back behind another truck, listening for the sound of their feet. He'd half-expected another encounter with the Mother's granddaughter.
+
+They tried to outmaneuver him; he stepped back to his former spot, catching his breath and digging frantically for his knife. It came out, just as they realized he'd tricked them.
+
+Sheila was still on her knees, fumbling with something, and apparently paying no attention to him. But now she jerked to her feet, her hand going back and forward.
+
+It was a six-inch section of pipe, with a thin wisp of smoke, and the throw was toward Gordon's feet. The hoodlums yelled, and ducked, while Sheila broke into a run away from him. The little homemade bomb landed, bounced, and lay still, with its fuse almost burned down.
+
+Gordon's heart froze in his throat, but he was already in action. He spat savagely into his hand, and jumped for the bomb. If the fuse was powder-soaked, he had no chance. He brought his palm down against it, and heard a faint hissing. Then he held his breath, waiting.
+
+No explosion came. It had been a crude job, with only a wick for a fuse.
+
+Sheila Corey had stopped at a safe distance; now she grabbed at her helpers, and swung them with her. The three came back, Sheila in the lead with her knife flashing.
+
+Gordon side-stepped her rush, and met the other two head-on, his knife swinging back. His foot hit some of the rubble on the ground at the last second, and he skidded. The leading mobster saw the chance and jumped for him. Gordon bent his head sharply, and dropped, falling onto his shoulders and somersaulting over. He twisted at the last second, jerking his arms down to come up facing the other.
+
+Then a new voice cut into the fracas, and there was the sound of something landing against a skull with a hollow thud. Gordon got his head up just in time to see a man in police uniform kick aside the first hoodlum and lunge for the other. There was a confused flurry; then the second went up into the air and came down in the newcomer's hands, to land with a sickening jar and lie still. Behind, Sheila Corey lay crumpled in a heap, clutching one wrist in the other hand and crying silently.
+
+Bruce Gordon came to his feet and started for her. She saw him coming, cast a single glance at the knife that had been knocked from her hands, then sprang aside and darted back through the parked trucks. In the street, she could lose herself in the swarm of Nick's Croopsters; Gordon turned back.
+
+The iron-gray hair caught his eyes first. Then, as the solidly built figure turned, he grunted. It was Captain Murdoch -- now dressed in the uniform of a regular beat cop, without even a corporal's stripes. And the face was filled with lines of strain that hadn't been there before.
+
+Murdoch threw the second gangster up into a truck after the first one and slammed the door shut, locking it with the metal bar which had apparently been his weapon. Then he grinned wryly, and came back toward Gordon.
+
+"You seem to have friends here," he commented. "A good thing I was trying to catch up with you. Just missed you at the Precinct House, came after you, and saw you turn in here. Then I heard the rumpus. A good thing for me, too, maybe."
+
+Gordon blinked, accepting the other's hand. "How so? And what happened?" He indicated the bare sleeve.
+
+"One's the result of the other," Murdoch told him. "They've got me sewed up, and they're throwing the book at me. The old laws make me a citizen while I wear the uniform -- and a citizen can't quit the Force. That puts me out of Earth's jurisdiction. I can't even cable for funds, and I guess I'm too old to start squeezing money out of citizens. I was coming to ask whether you had room in your diggings for a guest -- and I'm hoping now that my part here cinches it."
+
+Murdoch had tried to treat it lightly, but Gordon saw the red creeping up into the man's face. "Forget that part. There's room enough for two in my place -- and I guess Mother Corey won't mind. I'm damned glad you were following me."
+
+"So'm I, Gordon. What'll we do with the prisoners?"
+
+"Leave 'em; we couldn't get a Croopster locked up tonight for anything."
+
+He started ahead, leading the way through the remaining trucks and back to the street that led to Mother Corey's. Murdoch fell in step with him. "This is the first time I've had to look you up," he said. "I've been going out nights to help the citizens organize against the Stonewall gang. But that's over now -- they gave me hell for inciting vigilante action, and confined me inside the dome. The way they hate a decent cop here, you'd think honesty was contagious."
+
+"Yeah." Gordon preferred to let it drop. Murdoch was being given the business for going too far on the Stonewall gang, not for refusing to take normal graft.
+
+They came to the gray three-story building that Mother Corey now owned. Gordon stopped, realizing for the first time that there was no trace of efforts to protect it against the coming night and day. The entrance was unprotected. Then his eyes caught the bright chalk marks around it -- notices to the gangs to keep hands off. Mother Corey evidently had pull enough to get every mob in the neighborhood to affix its seal.
+
+As he drew near, though, two men edged across the street from a clump watching the beginning excitement. Then, as they identified Gordon, they moved back again. Some of the Mother's old lodgers from the ruin outside the dome were inside now -- obviously posted where it would do the most good.
+
+Corey stuck his head out of the door at the back of the hall as Gordon entered, and started to retire again -- until he spotted Murdoch. Gordon explained the situation hastily.
+
+"It's your room, cobber," the old man wheezed. He waddled back, to come out with a towel and key, which he handed to Murdoch. "Number forty-two."
+
+His heavy hand rested on Gordon's arm, holding the younger man back. Murdoch gave Gordon a brief, tired smile, and started for the stairs. "Thanks, Gordon. I'm turning in right now."
+
+Mother Corey shook his head, shaking the few hairs on his head and face, and the wrinkles in his doughy skin deepened. "Hasn't changed, that one. Must be thirty years, but I'd know Asa Murdoch anywhere. Took me to the spaceport, handed me my yellow ticket, and sent me off for Mars. A nice, clean kid -- just like my own boy was. But Murdoch wasn't like the rest of the neighborhood. He still called me 'sir,' when my boy was walking across the street, so the lad wouldn't know they were sending me away. Oh well, that was a long time ago, cobber. A long time."
+
+He rubbed a pasty hand over his chin, shaking his head and wheezing heavily. Gordon chuckled. "Well, how -- ?"
+
+Something banged heavily against the entrance seal, and there was the sound of a hot argument, followed by a commotion of some sort. Corey seemed to prick up his ears, and began to waddle rapidly toward the entrance.
+
+It broke open before he could reach it, the seal snapping back to show a giant of a man outside holding the two guards from across the street, while a scar-faced, dark man shoved through briskly. Corey snapped out a quick word, and the two guards ceased struggling and started back across the street. The giant pushed in after the smaller thug.
+
+"I'm from the Ajax Householders Protection Group," the dark man announced officially. "We're selling election protection. And brother, do you need it, if you're counting on those mugs. We're assessing you -- "
+
+"Not long on Mars, are you?" Mother Corey asked. The whine was entirely missing from his voice now, though his face seemed as expressionless as ever. "What does your boss Jurgens figure on doing, punk? Taking over all the rackets for the whole city?"
+
+The dark face snarled, while the giant moved a step forward. Then he shrugged. "Okay, Fatty. So Jurgens is behind it. So now you know. And I'm doubling your assessment, right now. To you, it's -- "
+
+A heavy hand fell on the man's shoulder, and Mother Corey leaned forward slightly. Even in Mars' gravity, his bulk made the other buckle at the knees. The hand that had been reaching for the knife yanked the weapon out and brought it up sharply.
+
+Gordon started to step in, then, but there was no time. Mother Corey's free hand came around in an open-palmed slap that lifted the collector up from the floor and sent him reeling back against a wall. The knife fell from the crook's hand, and the dark face turned pale. He sagged down the wall, limply.
+
+The giant opened his mouth, and took half a step forward; but the only sound he made was a choking gobble. Mother Corey moved without seeming haste, but before the other could make up his mind. There was a series of motions that seemed to have no pattern. The giant was spun around, somehow; one arm was jerked back behind him, then the other was forced up to it. Mother Corey held the wrists in one hand, put his other under the giant's crotch, and lifted. Carrying the big figure off the floor, the old man moved toward the seal. His foot found the button, snapping the entrance open. He pitched the giant out overhanded; holding the entrance, he reached for the dark man with one hand and tossed him on top of the giant.
+
+"To me, it's nothing," he called out. "Take these two back to young Jurgens, boys, and tell him to keep his punks out of my house."
+
+The entrance snapped shut then, and Corey turned back to Gordon, wiping the wisps of hair from his face. He was still wheezing asthmatically, but there seemed to be no change in the rhythm of his breathing. "As I was going to say, cobber," he said, "we've got a little social game going upstairs -- the room with the window. Fine view of the parades. We need a fourth."
+
+Gordon started to protest that he was tired and needed his sleep; then he shrugged. Corey's house was one of the few that had kept some relation to Earth styles by installing a couple of windows in the second story, and it would give a perfect view of the street. He followed the old man up the stairs.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Two other men were already in the surprisingly well-furnished room, at the little table set up near the window. Bruce Gordon recognized one as Randolph, the publisher of the little opposition paper. The man's pale blondness, weak eyes, and generally rabbity expression totally belied the courage that had permitted him to keep going at his hopeless task of trying to clean up Marsport. The Crusader was strictly a one-man weekly, against Mayor Wayne's Chronicle, with its Earth-comics and daily circulation of over a hundred thousand. Wayne apparently let the paper stay in business to give himself a talking point about fair play; but Randolph walked with a limp from the last working over he had received.
+
+"Hi, Gordon," he said. His thin, high voice was cool and reserved, in keeping with the opinion he had expressed publicly of the police as a body. But he did not protest Corey's selection of a partner. "This is Ed Praeger. He's an engineer on our railroad."
+
+Gordon acknowledged the introduction automatically. He'd almost forgotten that Marsport was the center of a thinly populated area, stretching for a thousand miles in all directions beyond the city, connected by the winding link of the electric monorail. "So there really is a surrounding countryside," he said.
+
+Praeger nodded. He was a big, open-faced man, just turning bald. His handshake was firm and friendly. "There are even cities out there, Gordon. Nothing like Marsport, but that's no loss. That's where the real population of Mars is -- decent people, men who are going to turn this into a real planet some day."
+
+"There are plenty like that here, too," Randolph said. He picked up the cards. "First ace deals. Damn it, Mother, sit down-wind from me, won't you? Or else take a bath."
+
+Mother Corey chuckled, and wheezed his way up out of the chair, exchanging places with Gordon. "I got a surprise for you, cobber," he said, and there was only amusement in his voice. "I got me in fifty gallons of water today, and tomorrow I do just that. Made up my mind there was going to be a cleanup in Marsport, even if Wayne does win. And stop examining the cards, Bruce. I don't cheat my friends. The readers are put away for old-times' sake."
+
+Randolph shrugged, and went on as if he hadn't interrupted himself. "Ninety per cent of Marsport is decent. They have to be. It takes at least nine honest men to support a crook. They come up here to start over -- maybe spent half their life saving up for the trip. They hear a man can make fifty credits a day in the factories, or strike it rich crop prospecting. What they don't realize is that things cost ten times as much here, too. They plan, maybe, on getting rich and going back to Earth...."
+
+"Nobody goes back," Mother Corey wheezed. "I know." His eyes rested on Gordon.
+
+"A lot don't want to," Praeger said. "I never meant to go back. I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now -- grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet."
+
+The others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way. Their chests were only a trifle larger, and their heartbeat only a few points higher; it was an internal adaptation, like the one that had occurred in test animals reared at a simulated forty-thousand-feet altitude on Earth, before Mars was ever settled.
+
+"They'll take the planet away from Earth yet," Randolph agreed. "Marsport is strictly artificial. It's kept going only because it's the only place where Earth will set down her ships. If Security doesn't do anything, time will."
+
+"Security!" Gordon muttered bitterly. Security was good at getting people in trouble, but he had seen no other sign of it.
+
+Randolph frowned over his cards. "Yeah, I know. The government set them up, gave them a mixture of powers, and has been trying to keep them from working ever since. But somehow they did clean up Venus; and every crook here is scared to death of the name. How come a muckraking newspaperman like you never turned up anything on them, Gordon?"
+
+Gordon shrugged. It was the first reference he'd heard to his background, and he preferred to let it drop.
+
+But Mother Corey cut in, his voice older and hoarser, and the skin on his jowls even grayer than usual. "Don't sell them short, cobber. I did -- once.... You forget them, here, after a while. But they're around...."
+
+Bruce Gordon felt something run down his armpit, and a chill creep up his back....
+
+Out on the street, a sudden whooping began, and he glanced down. The parade was on, the Croopsters in full swing, already mostly drunk. The main body went down the street, waving fluorescent signs, while side-guards preceded them, armed with axes, knocking aside the flimsier barricades as they went. He watched a group break into a small grocery store to come out with bundles. They dragged out the storekeeper, his wife, and young daughter, and pressed them into the middle of the parade.
+
+"If Security's so damned powerful, why doesn't it stop that?" he asked bitterly.
+
+Randolph grinned at him. "They might do it, Gordon. They just might. But are you sure you want it stopped?"
+
+"All right," Mother Corey said suddenly. "This is a social game, cobbers."
+
+Outside, the parade picked up enthusiasm as smaller gangs joined behind the main one. There were a fair number of plain citizens who had been impressed into it, too, judging by the appearance of little frightened groups in the middle of the mobsters.
+
+Gordon couldn't understand why the police hadn't at least been kept on duty, until Honest Izzy came into the room. The little man found a chair and bought chips silently; he looked tired.
+
+"Vacation?" Mother Corey asked.
+
+Izzy nodded. "Trench took forever giving it to us, Mother. But it's the same old deal; all the police gees get tomorrow off -- you, too, gov'nor. No cops to influence the vote, that's the word. We even gotta wear civvies when we go out to vote for Wayne."
+
+Gordon looked down at the rioters, who were now only keeping up a pretense of a parade. It would be worse tomorrow, he supposed; and there would be no cops. The image of the old woman and her husband in the little liquor store where he'd had his first experience came back to him. He wondered how well barricaded they were.
+
+He felt the curious eyes of Mother Corey dancing from him to Izzy and back, and heard the old man's chuckle. "Put a uniform on some men and they begin to believe they're cops, eh, cobber?"
+
+He shoved up from the table abruptly and headed for his room, swearing to himself.
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+VOTE EARLY AND OFTEN
+
+Izzy was up first the next morning, urging them to hurry before things began to hum. From somewhere, he dug up a suit of clothes that Murdoch could wear. He found the gun that Gordon had confiscated from O'Neill and filled it from a box of ammunition he'd apparently purchased.
+
+"I picked up some special permits," he said. "I knew you had this cannon, gov'nor, and I figured it'd come in handy. Wouldn't be caught dead with one myself. Knives, that's my specialty. Come on, Cap'n, we gotta get out the vote."
+
+Murdoch shook his head. "In the first place, I'm not registered."
+
+Izzy grinned. "Every cop's registered in his own precinct; Wayne got the honor system fixed for us. Show your papers and go into any booth in your territory. That's all. And you'd better be seen voting often, too, Cap'n. What's your precinct?"
+
+"Eleventh, but I'm not voting. I'd like to come along with you to observe, but I wouldn't make any choice between Wayne and Nolan."
+
+Downstairs, the rear room was locked, with one of Mother Corey's guards at the door. From inside came the rare sound of water splashing, mixed with a wheezing, off-key caterwauling. Mother Corey was apparently making good on his promise to take a bath. As they reached the hall, one of Trench's lieutenants came through the entrance, waving his badge at the protesting man outside.
+
+He spotted the three, and jerked his thumb. "Come on, you. We're late. And I ain't staying on the streets when it gets going."
+
+A small police car was waiting outside, and they headed for it. Bruce Gordon looked at the debacle left behind the drunken, looting mob. Most of the barricades were down. Here and there, a few citizens were rushing about trying to restore them, keeping wary eyes on the mobsters who had passed out on the streets.
+
+Suddenly a siren blasted out in sharp bursts, and the lieutenant jumped. "Come on, you gees. I gotta be back in half an hour."
+
+They piled inside, and the little electric car took off at its top speed. But now the quietness had been broken. There were trucks coming out of the plastics plant, and mobsters were gathering up their drunks, and chasing the citizens back into their houses. Some of them were wearing the forbidden guns, but it wouldn't matter on a day when no police were on duty.
+
+In the Ninth Precinct, the Planters were the biggest gang, and all the others were temporarily enrolled under them. Here, there were less signs of trouble. The joints had been better barricaded, and the looting had been kept to a minimum.
+
+The three got off. A scooter pulled up alongside them almost at once, with a gun-carrying mobster riding it. "You mugs get the hell out of -- Oh, cops! Okay, better pin these on."
+
+He handed out gaudy arm bands, and the three fastened them in place. Nearly everyone else already had them showing. The Planters were moving efficiently. They were grouped around the booths, and they had begun to line up their men, putting them in position to begin voting at once.
+
+Then the siren hooted again, a long, steady blast. The bunting in front of the booths was pulled off, and the lines began to move. Izzy led the way to the one at the rich end of their beat, and moved toward the head of the line. "Cops," he said to the six mobsters who surrounded the booth. "We got territory to cover."
+
+A thumb indicated that they could go in. Murdoch remained outside, and one of the thugs reached for him. Izzy cut him off. "Just a friend on the way to his own route. Eleventh Precinct."
+
+There were scowls, but they let it go. Then Gordon was in the little booth. It seemed to be in order. There were the books of registration, with a checker for Wayne, one for Nolan, and a third, supposedly neutral, behind the plank that served as a desk. The Nolan man was protesting.
+
+"He's been dead for ten years. I know him. He's my uncle."
+
+"There's a Mike Thaler registered, and this guy says he's Thaler," the Wayne man said decisively. "He votes."
+
+One of the Planters passed his gun to the inspector for the Wayne side. The Nolan man gulped, and nodded. "Heh-heh, yes, just a mix-up. He's registered, so he votes."
+
+The next man Gordon recognized as being from one of the small shops on his beat. The fellow's eyes were desperate, but he was forcing himself to go through with it. "Murtagh," he said, and his voice broke on the second syllable. "Owen Murtagh."
+
+"Murtang.... No registration!" The Wayne checker shrugged. "Next!"
+
+"It's Murtagh. M-U-R-T-A-G-H. Owen Murtagh, of 738 Morrisy -- "
+
+"Protest!" The Wayne man cut off the frantic wriggling of the Nolan checker's finger toward the line in the book. "When a man can't get the name straight the first time, it's suspicious."
+
+The supposedly neutral checker nodded. "Better check the name off, unless the real Murtagh shows up. Any objections, Yeoman?"
+
+The Nolan man had no objections -- outwardly. He was sweating, and the surprise in his eyes indicated that this was all new to him.
+
+Bruce Gordon came next, showing his badge. He was passed with a nod, and headed for the little closed-off polling place. But the Wayne man touched his arm and indicated a ballot. There were two piles, and this pile was already filled out for Wayne. "Saves trouble, unless you want to do it yourself," he suggested.
+
+Gordon shrugged, and shoved it into the slot. He went outside and waited for Izzy to follow. It was raw beyond anything he'd expected -- but at least it saved any doubt about the votes.
+
+The procedure was the same at the next booth, though they had more trouble. The Nolan man there was a fool -- neither green nor agreeable. He protested vigorously, in spite of a suspicious bruise along his temple, and finally made some of the protests stick.
+
+Gordon began to wonder how it could be anything but a clear unanimous vote, at that rate. Izzy shook his head. "Wayne'll win, but not that easy. The sticks don't have strong mobs, and they'll pile up a heavy Nolan vote. And you'll see things hum soon!"
+
+Gordon had voted three times under the "honor system," before he saw. They were just nearing a polling place when a heavy truck came careening around a corner. Men began piling out of the back before it stopped -- men armed with clubs and stones. They were in the middle of the Planters at once, striking without science, but with ferocity. The line waiting to vote broke up, but the citizens had apparently organized with care. A good number of the men in the line were with the attackers.
+
+There was the sound of a shot, and a horrified cry. For a second, the citizens broke; then a wave of fury seemed to wash over them at the needless risk to the safety of all. The horror of rupturing the dome was strongly ingrained in every citizen of Marsport. They drew back, then made a concerted rush. There was a trample of bodies, but no more shots.
+
+In a minute, the citizens' group was inside, ripping the fixed ballots to shreds, filling out and dropping their own. They ignored the registration clerks.
+
+A whistle had been shrilling for minutes. Now another group came onto the scene, and the Planters' men began getting out rapidly. Some of the citizens looked up and yelled, but it was too late. From the approaching cars, pipes projected forward. Streams of liquid jetted out, and their agonized cries followed.
+
+Even where he stood, Gordon could smell the fumes of ammonia. Izzy's face tensed, and he swore. "Inside the dome! They're poisoning the air."
+
+But the trick worked. In no time, men in crude masks were clearing out the booth, driving the last struggling citizens away, and getting ready for business as usual.
+
+Murdoch turned on his heel. "I've had enough. I've made up my mind," he said. "The cable offices must be open for the doctored reports on the election to Earth. Where's the nearest?"
+
+Izzy frowned, but supplied the information. Bruce Gordon pulled Murdoch aside. "Come off the head-cop role; it won't work. They must have had reports on elections before this."
+
+"Damn the trouble. It's never been this raw before. Look at Izzy's face, Gordon. Even he's shocked. Something has to be done about this, before worse happens. I've still got connections back there -- "
+
+"Okay," Gordon said bitterly. He'd liked Asa Murdoch, had begun to respect him. It hurt to see that what he'd considered hardheadedness was just another case of a fool fighting dragons with a paper sword.
+
+"Okay, it's your death certificate," he said, and turned back toward Izzy. "Go send your sob stories, Murdoch."
+
+They taught a bunch of pretty maxims in school -- even slum kids learned that honesty was the best policy, while their honest parents rotted in unheated holes, and the racketeers rode around in fancy cars. It had got him once. He'd refused to take a dive as a boxer; he'd tried to play honest cards; he'd tried honesty on his beat back on Earth. He'd tried to help the suckers in his column, and here he was.
+
+And Gordon had been proud to serve under Murdoch.
+
+"Come on, Izzy," he said. "Let's vote!"
+
+Izzy shook his head. "It ain't right, gov'nor."
+
+"Let him do what he damn pleases," Gordon told him.
+
+Izzy's small face puckered up in lines of worry. "No, I don't mean him. I mean this business of using ammonia. I know some of the gees trying to vote. They been paying me off -- and that's a retainer, you might say. Now this gang tries to poison them. I'm still running an honest beat, and I bloody well can't vote for that! Uniform or no uniform, I'm walking beat today. And the first gee that gives trouble to the men who pay me gets a knife where he eats. When I get paid for a job, I do the job."
+
+Gordon watched him head down the block, and started after the little man. Then he grimaced. Rule books! Even Izzy had one.
+
+He went down the row, voting regularly. The Planters had things in order. The mess had already been cleaned up when he arrived at the cheaper end of the beat. It was the last place where he'd be expected to do his duty by Wayne's administration; he waited in line.
+
+Then a voice hit at his ears, and he looked up to see Sheila Corey only two places in front of him. "Mrs. Mary Edelstein," she was saying. The Wayne man nodded, and there was no protest. She picked up a Wayne ballot, and dropped it in the box.
+
+Then her eyes fell on Gordon. She hesitated for a second, bit her lips, and finally moved out into the crowd.
+
+He could see no sign of her as he stepped out a minute later, but the back of his neck prickled.
+
+He started out of the crowd, trying to act normal, but glancing down to make sure the gun was in its proper position. Satisfied, he wheeled suddenly and spotted her behind him, before she could slip out of sight.
+
+Then a shout went up, yanking his eyes around with the rest of those standing near. The eyes had centered on the alleys along the street, and men were beginning to run wildly, while others were jerking out their weapons. He saw a big gray car coming up the street; on its side was painted the colors of the Planters. Now it swerved, hitting a siren button.
+
+But it was too late. Trucks shot out of the little alleys, jamming forward through the people; there must have been fifty of them. One hit the big gray car, tossing it aside. It was Trench himself who leaped out, together with the driver. The trucks paid no attention, but bore down on the crowd. From one of them, a machine gun opened fire.
+
+Gordon dropped and began crawling in the only direction that was open, straight toward the alleys from which the trucks had come. A few others had tried that, but most were darting back as they saw the colors of Nolan's Star Point gang on the trucks.
+
+Other guns began firing; men were leaping from the trucks and pouring into the mob of Planters, forcing their way toward the booth in the center of the mess.
+
+It was a beautifully timed surprise attack, and a well-armed one, even though guns were supposed to be so rare here. Gordon stumbled into someone ahead of him, and saw it was Trench. He looked up, and straight into the swinging muzzle of the machine gun that had started the commotion.
+
+Trench was reaching for his revolver, but he was going to be too late. Gordon brought his up the extra half inch, aiming by the feel, and pulled the trigger. The man behind the machine gun dropped.
+
+Trench had his gun out now, and was firing, after a single surprised glance at Gordon. He waved back toward the crowd.
+
+But Gordon had spotted the open trunk of the gray car. He shook his head and tried to indicate it. Trench jerked his thumb and leaped to his feet, rushing back.
+
+Gordon saw another truck go by, and felt a bullet miss him by inches. Then his legs were under him, and he was sliding into the big luggage compartment, where the metal would shield him.
+
+Something soft under his feet threw him down. He felt a body under him, and coldness washed over him before he could get his eyes down. The cold went away, to be replaced by shock. Between his spread knees lay Murdoch, bound and gagged, his face a bloody mess.
+
+Gordon reached for the gag, but the other held up his hands and pointed to the gun. It made sense. The knots were tight, but Gordon managed to get his knife under the rope around Murdoch's wrists and slice through it. The older man's hands went out for the gun; his eyes swung toward the street, while Gordon attacked the rope around his ankles.
+
+The Star Point men were winning, though it was tough going. They had fought their way almost to the booth, but there a V of Planters' cars had been gotten into position somehow, and gunfire was coming from behind them. As he watched, a huge man reached over one of the cars, picked up a Star Point man, and lifted him behind the barricade.
+
+The gag had just come out when the Star Point man jumped into view again, waving a rag over his head and yelling. Captain Trench followed him out, and began pointing toward the gray car.
+
+"They want me," Murdoch gasped thickly. "Get out, Gordon, before they gang up on us!"
+
+Gordon jerked his eyes back toward the alley on the other side. It went at an angle and would offer some protection.
+
+He looked back, just as bullets began to land against the metal of the car. Murdoch held up one finger and put himself into a position to make a run for it. Then he brought the finger down sharply, and the two leaped out.
+
+Trench's ex-Marine bellow carried over the fighting. "Get the old man!"
+
+Bruce Gordon had no time to look back. He hit the alley in five heart-ripping leaps and was around the bend. Then he swung, just as Murdoch made it. Bullets spatted against the walls, and he saw blood pumping from under Murdoch's right shoulder.
+
+"Keep going!" Murdoch ordered.
+
+A fresh cry from the street cut into his order, however. Gordon risked a quick look, then stepped farther out to make sure.
+
+The surprise raid by the Star Pointers hadn't been quite as much of a surprise as expected. Coming down the street, with no regard for men trying to get out of their way, the trucks of the Croopsters were battering aside the few who could not reach safety. There were no machine guns this time.
+
+They smacked into the tangle of Star Point trucks, and came to a grinding halt, men piling out ready for battle. Gordon nodded. In a few minutes, Wayne's supporters would have the booth again; there'd be a delay before any organized search could be made for the fugitives. He looked down at Murdoch's shoulder.
+
+"Come on," he said finally. "Or should I carry you?"
+
+Murdoch shook his head. "I'll walk. Get me to a place where we can talk -- and be damned to this. Gordon, I've got to talk -- but I don't have to live. I mean that!"
+
+Gordon started off, disregarding the words; a place of safety had to come first. He picked his way down alleys and small streets. The older man kept trying to stop to speak, but Gordon gave him no opportunity. There was one chance....
+
+It was farther than he'd thought, and Gordon began to suspect he'd missed the way, until he saw the drugstore. Now it all fell into place -- the first beat he'd had with Izzy.
+
+He ducked down back alleys until he reached the right section. He scanned the street, jumped to the door of the little liquor store and began banging on it. There was no answer, though he was sure the old couple lived just over the store.
+
+He began banging again. Finally, a feeble voice sounded from inside. "Who is it?"
+
+"A man in distress!" he yelled back. There was no way to identify himself; he could only hope she would look.
+
+The entrance seal opened briefly; then it flashed open all the way. He motioned to Murdoch, and jumped to help the failing man to the entrance. The old lady looked, then moved quickly to the other side.
+
+"Ach, Gott," she breathed. Her hands trembled as she relocked the seal. Then she brushed the thin hair off her face, and pointed. Gordon followed her up the stairs, carrying Murdoch on his back. She opened a door, passed through a tiny kitchen, and threw open another door to a bedroom.
+
+The old man lay on the bed, and this time there was no question of concussion. The woman nodded. "Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He would try to vote. I told him and told him -- and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here."
+
+Gordon felt sick. He started to turn, but she shook her head quickly. "No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here."
+
+She lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. "I'll get alcohol from below -- and bandages and hot water."
+
+Asa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them. "Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!"
+
+"I'm listening!"
+
+"With your mind, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level -- policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed -- That's why we've had to work under all the cover -- and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here -- Trench was our man -- Sold us out! We've got junior men -- down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here -- now!
+
+"Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you -- because I have to."
+
+He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. "Pappa," she said slowly. "He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called...."
+
+She went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.
+
+"Probably what happened to a lot -- men like Trench, supposed to build an organization, just leaving the loose ends hanging." He groaned; sweat popped out on his forehead, but his eyes never left Gordon's. "Hell's going to pop. The government's just waiting to step in; Earth wants to take over."
+
+"It should," Gordon said.
+
+"No! We've studied these things. Mars won't give up -- and Earth wants a plum, not responsibility. You'll have civil war and the whole planetary development ruined. Security's the only hope, Gordon -- the only chance Mars had, has, or will have! Believe me, I know. Security has to be notified. There's a code message I had ready -- a message to a friend -- even you can send it. And they'll be watching. I've got the basic plans in the book here."
+
+He slumped back. Gordon frowned, then found the book and pulled it out as gently as he could. It was a small black memo book, covered with pages of shorthand. The back was an address book, filled with names -- many crossed out. A sheet of paper in normal writing fell out.
+
+"The message ..." Murdoch took another swallow of brandy. "Take it. You're head of Security on Mars now. It's all authorized in the plans there. You'll need the brains and knowledge of the others -- but they can't act. You can -- we know about you."
+
+The old woman sighed. She put down the hot water and picked up the bottle of brandy, starting down the stairs.
+
+"Gordon!" Murdoch said faintly.
+
+He turned to put his head down. From the stairs, a sudden cry and thump sounded, and something hit the floor. Gordon jumped toward the sound, to find the old lady bending over the inert figure of Sheila Corey.
+
+"I heard someone," the woman said. She stared at the brandy bottle sickly. "Gott in Himmel, look at me. Am I a killer, too, that I should strike a young and beautiful girl. She comes into my house, and I sneak behind her ... It is an evil time, young man. Here, you carry her inside. I'll get some twine to tie her up. The idea, spying on you!"
+
+Gordon picked the girl up roughly. That capped it, he thought. There was no way of knowing how much she'd heard, or whether she'd tipped others off. He dropped her near the bed, and went over to Murdoch. The man was dying now.
+
+"So Security wants me to contact the others in the book and organize things?"
+
+"Yes." Murdoch swallowed. "Not a good chance, then -- but a chance. Still time -- I think. Gordon?"
+
+"What else can I do?" Bruce Gordon asked.
+
+He knew it was no answer, but Asa Murdoch apparently accepted it as a promise. The gray-speckled head relaxed and rolled sideways on the bloody pillow.
+
+"Dead," Gordon said to the woman, as she came up with the twine. "Dead, fighting wind-mills. And maybe winning. I don't know."
+
+He turned toward Sheila -- a split second too late. The girl came up from the floor with a single push of her arm. She pivoted on her heel, hit the door, and her heels were clattering on the stairs. Before Gordon could reach the entrance, she was whipping around into an alley.
+
+He watched her go, sick inside, and the last he saw was the hand she held up, waving the little black book at him!
+
+He turned back into the liquor shop; the woman seemed to read his face. "I should have watched her. It is a bad day for me, young man. I failed Pappa; I failed the poor man who died -- and now I have failed you. It is better..."
+
+He caught her as she fell toward him. She relaxed after a second. "Upstairs, please," she whispered, "beside Pappa. There was nothing else. And these Martian poisons -- they are so sure, they don't hurt. Five minutes more, I think. Stay with me, I'll tell you how Pappa and I got married. I want somebody should know how it was with us once, together."
+
+He stayed, then picked the two bodies up and moved them from the floor onto the bed where he had first seen the old man. He moved Murdoch's body aside, and covered the two gently. Finally, he went down the stairs, carrying Murdoch with him. The man's weight was a stiff load, even on Mars; but, somehow, he couldn't leave his body with the old couple.
+
+He stopped finally ten blocks of narrow alleys away, and put Murdoch down.
+
+Now he had no witnesses, except Sheila Corey. He had no book, no clues as to whom to see and what to do.
+
+He heard the sound of a mobile amplifier, and strained his ears toward it. He got enough to know that Wayne had won a thumping victory, better than three to two.
+
+Isaiah Trench was still captain of the Seventh Precinct.
+
+Chapter IX
+
+CONTRABAND
+
+Elections were over, but the few dim lights along the street showed only boarded-up and darkened buildings. There were sounds of stirring, but no one was trusting that the election-day brawls were completely ended yet.
+
+Gordon hesitated, then swung glumly toward a corner where he could find a police call box. He heard a tiny patrol car turn the corner and ducked back into another alley to wait for it to go by. But they weren't looking for him. Their spotlight caught a running boy, clutching a few thin copies of the Crusader under a scrawny arm.
+
+After the cops had dumped the unconscious kid into the back of the small squad car, and gone looking for more game, Gordon went over to look at the tattered scraps left of the opposition paper.
+
+Randolph wasn't preaching this time, but was content to report the facts he'd seen. There had been at least ninety known killings; mobs had fought citizens outside the main market for three hours.
+
+Yet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious that the current administration could never win another election.
+
+Bruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. "Gordon reporting," he announced.
+
+A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out of the phone. "Gordon? Where the hell you been?"
+
+"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles," Gordon told him. "With a corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon."
+
+Trench hesitated only a fraction of a second. "Okay, I'll be out in ten minutes."
+
+Gordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly built story.
+
+Isaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the alley in seven minutes.
+
+The door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the pockets.
+
+Finally, he stood up, frowning. "He's dead, all right. I don't get it. If you hadn't reported in ... Gordon, did he try to make you think he was -- "
+
+"Security?" Gordon filled in. "Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and wanted me to send a message to Earth for him."
+
+Trench nodded, a touch of relief on his face. "Crazy!"
+
+Gordon grimaced faintly.
+
+"Crazy," Trench repeated. "He must have been to spin that story ... By the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead if you weren't, I guess."
+
+Gordon made no comment, and Trench said, "I could start a nasty investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?"
+
+They wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been under tension, too.
+
+They didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place. Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand. "Congratulations, by the way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant from now on."
+
+* * * * *
+
+Inside, a thick effluvium hit his nose, and Gordon turned to see Mother Corey's huge bulk waddling down the hall. The old man nodded. "We thought you'd gone on the lam, cobber. But I guess, since Trench brought you back, you've cooled. Good, good. As a respectable man now, I couldn't have stashed you from the cops -- though I might have been tempted -- mighty tempted." His face was melancholy. "Tell me, lad, did they get Murdoch?"
+
+Bruce Gordon nodded, and the old man sighed. Something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eyes.
+
+"I thought you were taking a bath," Gordon commented.
+
+The old man chuckled. "Fate's against me, cobber. With all the shooting, some punk put a bullet clean through the wall and the plastic of the tub. Fifty gallons of water, all wasted!"
+
+He turned back toward the end of the hall, sighing again. Gordon went up the stairs, noticing that Izzy's door was open. The little man was stretched out on the bunk in his clothes, filthy; one side of his face swollen.
+
+"Hi, gov'nor," he called out, his voice still cheerful. "I had odds you'd beat the ticket, though the Mother and me were worried there for a while. How'd you grease the fix?"
+
+Gordon sketched it in, without mentioning Security. "What happened to you, Izzy?"
+
+"Price of being honest. But the gees who paid me protection didn't get hurt, gov'nor." He winced, then grinned. "So they pay double tomorrow. Honesty pays, gov'nor, if you squeeze it once in a while ... Funny, you making sergeant; I thought two other gees won the lottery."
+
+So the promotion had come from Trench! It bothered him. When a turkey sees corn on the menu, it's time to wonder about Thanksgiving.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Collections were good all week -- probably as a result of Izzy's actions. Even after he arranged to pay his income tax, and turned over his "donation" to the fund, Gordon was well ahead for the first time since he'd landed here.
+
+He had become almost superstitious about the way he was always left with no more than a hundred credits in his pockets. This time, he stripped himself to that sum at once, depositing the rest in the First Marsport Bank. Maybe it would break the jinx.
+
+They were one of the few teams in the Seventh Precinct to make full quota. Trench was lavish in his praise. He was playing more than fair with Bruce Gordon now, but there was a basic suspicion in his eyes.
+
+The next day, he drafted Izzy and Gordon for a trip outside the dome. "It's easy enough, and you'll get plenty of credit in the fund for it. I need two men who can keep their mouths shut."
+
+They idled around the station through the morning. In the late afternoon, they left in a big truck capable of hauling what would have been fifty tons on Earth. Trench drove. Outside the dome, the electric motor carried them along at a steady twenty miles an hour, almost silently.
+
+It was Gordon's first look at the real Mars. He saw small villages where crop prospectors and hydroponic farmers lived, with a few small industrial sections scattered over the desert. As they moved out, he saw the slow change from the beaten appearance of Marsport to something that seemed no worse than would be found among the share-croppers back on Earth. It was obvious that Marsport was the poison center here.
+
+Some of the younger children were running around without helmets, confirming Praeger's claim that third-generation Martians somehow learned to adapt to the atmosphere.
+
+Darkness fell sharply, as it always did in Mars' thin air, but they went on, heading out into the dunes of the desert. When they finally stopped, they were beside a small, battered space ship. Boxes were piled all around it, and others were being tossed out. Trent leaped from the truck, motioning them to follow, and they began loading the crates hastily. It took about an hour of hard work to load the last of them, and Trench was working harder than they were. Finished, he went up to one of the men from the ship, handed over an envelope, and came back to start the truck back toward Marsport. As the dunes dwindled behind them, Gordon could see the brief flare of the little rocket taking off.
+
+They drove back through the night as rapidly as the truck could manage. Finally, they rolled into City Hall, down a ramp, and onto an elevator that took them three levels down. Trench climbed out and nodded in satisfaction. "That's it. Take tomorrow off, if you want, and I'll fix credit for you. But just remember you haven't seen anything. You don't know any more than our old friend Murdoch!"
+
+He led them to another elevator, then swung back to the truck.
+
+"Guns," Gordon said slowly. "Guns and contraband ammunition for the administration from Earth. And they must have paid half the graft they've taken for that. What the hell do they want it for?"
+
+Izzy jerked a shoulder upwards and a twist ran across his pock-marked face. "War, what else? Gov'nor, Earth must be boiling about the election. Maybe Security's getting set to spring."
+
+The idea of Marsport rebelling against Earth seemed ridiculous. Even with guns, they wouldn't have a chance if Earth sent a force of any strength to back Security. But it was the only explanation.
+
+Gordon took the next day off to look for Sheila Corey, but nobody would admit having seen her.
+
+He had seen crowds beginning to assemble all afternoon, but had paid no attention to them. Now he found the way back to Corey's blocked by a mob. Then he saw that the object of it all was the First Marsport Bank. It was only toward that that the shaking fists were raised. Gordon managed to get onto a pile of rubble where he could see over the crowd. The doors of the bank were locked shut, but men were attacking it with an improvised battering ram. As he watched, a pompous little man came to the upper window over the door and began motioning for attention. The crowd quieted almost at once, except for a single yell. "When do we get our money?"
+
+"Please. Please." The voice reached back thinly as the bank president got his silence. "Please. It won't do you any good. Not a bit. We're broke. Not a cent left! And don't go blaming me. I didn't start the rush. Your friends did that. They took all the money, and now we're cleaned out. You can't -- "
+
+A rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.
+
+Gordon dropped from the rubble, staring at the bank. He'd played it safe this time -- he'd put his money away, to make sure he'd have it!
+
+A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey. "That's the way a panic is, cobber," the man said. "There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first." He patted his side, where a bulge showed. "And I just made it, too."
+
+The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood. "But what started it?"
+
+"Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank -- and why not, seeing it was his bank! Nobody had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so -- "
+
+Gordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already. Gordon began organizing his own squad.
+
+Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. "If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor," he said. "They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?"
+
+"Sure -- guns from Earth! The damned fools!"
+
+"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet -- got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming."
+
+It gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat. But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.
+
+By midnight, as Izzy had promised, the people had begun to quiet down, however. The anger and hysteria were giving way to a sullen, beaten hopelessness.
+
+Honest Izzy finally seemed satisfied to turn things over to the regular night men. Gordon waited around a while longer, but finally headed back to Mother Corey's place.
+
+Mother Corey put a cup of steaming coffee into his hands. "You look worse than I do, cobber. Worse than even that granddaughter of mine. She was looking for you!"
+
+"Sheila?" Gordon jerked the word out.
+
+"Yeah. She left a note for you. I put it up in your room." Mother Corey chuckled. "Why don't you two get married and make your fighting legal?"
+
+"Thanks for the coffee," Gordon threw back at him. He was already mounting the stairs.
+
+He tossed his door open and found the letter on his bed.
+
+"I'd rather go to Wayne," it said, "but I need money. If you want the rest of this, you've got until three tonight to make an offer. If you can find me, maybe I'll listen."
+
+The torn-off front cover of the notebook accompanied the letter. But it was a quarter after three already, he was practically broke -- and he had no idea where she could be found.
+
+Chapter X
+
+MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE
+
+Bruce Gordon jerked the door open to yell for Izzy while he tucked the bit of notebook cover into his pocket. Then he stopped as something nibbled at his mind; the odor Gordon had smelled before registered. He yanked out the bit of notebook and sniffed. It hadn't been close enough for any length of time to be contaminated by Mother Corey, so the smell could only come from one place.
+
+He checked the batteries on his suit and put it on quickly. There was no point in wearing the helmet inside the dome, but it was better than trying to rent one at the lockers. He buckled it to a strap. The knife slid into its sheath, and the gun holster snapped onto the suit. As a final thought, he picked up the stout locust stick he'd used under Murdoch.
+
+There were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no trouble.
+
+"Special pass to leave at this hour," the guard there reminded him. "Of course, if it's urgent, pal..."
+
+Gordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun. "Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business," he said curtly. "Get the hell out of my way."
+
+The guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung back as he passed through. "And you'd better be ready to open when I come back."
+
+He was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were dropping rapidly.
+
+Rockets that flamed bright blue -- military rockets! Earth was finally taking a hand!
+
+He crouched in a hollow that had once been some kind of a basement until the ships had landed and cut off their jets. Then he stood up, blinking his eyes until they could again make out the pattern of the dim bulbs. He'd seen enough by the rocket glare to know that he was headed right. And finally the ugly half-cylinder of patched brick and metal that was the old Mother Corey's Chicken Coop showed up against the faint light.
+
+He moved in cautiously, as silently as he could, and located the semi-secret entrance to the building without meeting anyone. Once in the tunnel that led to the building, he felt a little safer.
+
+He removed his helmet, and strapped it to the back of his suit, out of the way. The old hall was in worse shape than before. Mother Corey had run a somewhat orderly place, with constant vigilance; Bruce Gordon could never have come into the hallway without being seen in the old days.
+
+Then a pounding sound came from the second floor, and Gordon drew back into the denser shadows, staring upwards. A heavy voice picked up the exchange of shouts.
+
+"You, Sheila, you come outa there! You come right out or I'm gonna blast that there door down. You open up."
+
+Gordon was already moving up the stairs when a second voice reached him, and this one was familiar. "Jurgens don't want you; all he wants is this place -- we got use for it. It don't belong to you, anyhow! Come out now, and we'll let you go peaceful. Or stay in there and we'll blast you out -- in pieces."
+
+It was the voice of Jurgens' henchman who had called on Mother Corey before elections. The thick voice must belong to the big ape who'd been with him.
+
+"Come on out," the little man cried again. "You don't have a chance. We've already chased all your boarders out!"
+
+Gordon tried to remember which steps had creaked the worst, but he wasn't too worried, if there were only two of them. Then his head projected above the top step, and he hesitated. Only the rat and the ape were standing near a heavy, closed door. But four others were lounging in the background. He lifted his foot to put it back down to a lower step, just as Sheila's muffled voice shrilled out a fog of profanity. He grinned, and then saw that he'd lifted his foot to a higher step.
+
+There was a sharp yell from one of the men in the background and a knife sailed for him, but the aim was poor. Gordon's gun came out. Two of the men were dropping before the others could reach for their own weapons, and while the rat-faced man was just turning. The third dropped without firing, and the fourth's shot went wild. Gordon was firing rapidly, but not with such a stupid attempt at speed that he couldn't aim each shot. And at that distance, it was hard to miss.
+
+Rat-face jerked back behind the big hulk of his partner, trying to pull a gun that seemed to be stuck; a scared man's ability to get his gun stuck in a simple holster was always amazing. The big guy simply lunged, with his hands out.
+
+Gordon side-stepped and caught one of the arms, swinging the huge body over one hip. It sailed over the broken railing, to land on the floor below and crash through the rotten planking. He heard the man hit the basement, even while he was swinging the club in his hand toward the rat-faced man.
+
+There was a thin, high-pitched scream as a collarbone broke. He slumped onto the floor, and began to try hitching his way down the steps. Gordon picked up the gun that had fallen out of the holster as the man fell and put it into his pouch. He considered the two, and decided they would be no menace.
+
+"Okay, Sheila," he called out, trying to muffle his voice. "We got them all."
+
+"Pie-Face?" Her voice was doubtful.
+
+He considered what a man out here who went under that name might be like. "Sure, baby. Open up!"
+
+"Wait a minute. I've got this nailed shut." There was the sound of an effort of some kind going on as she talked. "Though I ought to let you stay out there and rot. Damn it ... uh!"
+
+The door heaved open then, and she appeared in it; then she saw him, and her jaw dropped open slackly. "You!"
+
+"Me," he agreed. "And lucky for you, Cuddles."
+
+Her hand streaked to a gun in her belt. "Kill him!"
+
+This time, he didn't wait to be attacked. He went for the door, knocking her aside. His knee caught the outside of her hip as she spun; she fell over, dropping the gun.
+
+The two men in the room were both holding knives, but in the ridiculous overhand position that seems to be an ingrained stupidity of the human race, until it's taught better. A single flip of his locust club against their wrists accounted for both of the knives. He grabbed them by the hair of their heads, then, and brought the two skulls together savagely.
+
+Sheila lay stretched out on the floor, where her head had apparently struck against the leg of a bed. Gordon shoved the bodies of the two men aside and looked down at the wreck of a man who lay on the dirty blanket. "Hello, O'Neill," he said.
+
+The former leader of the Stonewall gang stared up at the club swinging from Gordon's wrist. "You ain't gonna beat me this time? I'm a sick man. Sick. Can't hurt nobody. Don't beat me again."
+
+Gordon's stomach knotted sickly. Doing something under the pressure of necessity was one thing; but to see the sorry results of it later was another. "All right," he said. "Just stay there until I get away from this rat's nest and I won't hit you. I won't even touch you."
+
+He was sure enough that it was no act on O'Neill's part; he wasn't so sure about Sheila. He checked the two men on the floor, who were still out cold. Then he stepped through the door carefully, to make sure that the big bruiser hadn't come back.
+
+His ears barely detected the sound Sheila made as she reached for the knife of one of the men. Then it came -- the faintest catch of breath. Gordon threw himself flat to the floor. She let out a scream as he saw her momentum carry her over him; she was at the edge of the rail, and starting to fall.
+
+He caught her feet in his hands and yanked her back. There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor.
+
+"Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles," he told her. "Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way."
+
+Fury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room. From the broken mattress on the bed, he dug out a coil of wire and bound her hands and feet with it.
+
+"Can't say I think much of your choice of companions these days," he commented, looking toward the bed where O'Neill was cowering. "It looks as if your grandfather picks them better for you."
+
+"You filthy-minded hog! D'you think I'd -- I'd -- One room in the place with a decent door, and you can't see why I'd choose that room to keep Jurgens' devils back. You -- You -- "
+
+He'd been searching the room, but there was no sign of the notebook there. He checked again to see that the wire was tight, and then picked up the two henchmen who were showing some signs of reviving.
+
+"I'll watch them," a voice said from the door. Gordon snapped his head up to see Izzy standing there. He realized he'd been a lot less cautious than he'd thought.
+
+Izzy grinned at his confusion. "I got enough out of the Mother to case the pitch," he said. "I knew I was right when I spotted the apeman carrying a guy with a bad shoulder away from here. Jurgens' punks, eh?"
+
+"Thanks for coming. What's it going to cost me?"
+
+"Wouldn't be honest to charge unless you asked me to convoy you, gov'nor. And if you're looking for the vixen's room, it's where you bunked before. I got around after I spotted you here."
+
+Sheila Corey forced herself to a sitting position and spat at Izzy. "Traitor! Crooked little traitor!"
+
+"Shut up, Sheila," Izzy said. "Your retainer ran out."
+
+Surprisingly, she did shut up. Gordon went to the little space -- and saw that Izzy was right; there was a nearly used-up lipstick, a comb, and a cracked mirror. There was also a small cloth bag containing a few scraps of clothes.
+
+He turned the room upside down, but there was no sign of the notebook or papers from it.
+
+He located her helmet and carried it down with him. "You're going bye-bye, Cuddles," he told her. "I'm going to put this on you and then unfasten your arms and legs. But if you start to so much as wiggle your big toe, you won't sit down for a month."
+
+She pursed her lips hotly, but made no reply. He screwed the helmet on, and unfastened her arms. For a second, she tensed, while he waited, grinning down at her. Then she slumped back and lay quiet as he unfastened her legs.
+
+He tossed her over his shoulder, and started down the rickety stairs.
+
+There was a little light in the sky. Five minutes later, it was full daylight, which should have been a signal for the workers to start for their jobs. But today they were drifting out unhappily, as if already sure there would be no jobs by nightfall.
+
+A few stared at Gordon and his burden, but most of them didn't even look up. The two men trudged along silently.
+
+"Prisoner," he announced crisply to the guard, but there was no protest this time. They went through, and he was lucky enough to locate a broken-down tricycle cab.
+
+Mother Corey let them in, without flickering an eyelash as he saw his granddaughter. Bruce Gordon dropped her onto her legs. "Behave yourself," he warned her as he took off his helmet, and then unfastened hers.
+
+Mother Corey chuckled. "Very touching, cobber. You have a way with women, it seems. Too bad she had to wear a helmet, or you might have dragged her here by her hair. Ah, well, let's not talk about it here. My room is more comfortable -- and private."
+
+Inside, Sheila sat woodenly on the little sofa, pretending to see none of them. Mother Corey looked from one to the other, and then back to Gordon. "Well? You must have had some reason for bringing her here, cobber."
+
+"I want her out of my hair, Mother," Gordon tried to explain. "I can lock her up -- carrying a gun without a permit is reason enough. But I'd rather you kept her here, if you'll take the responsibility. After all, she's your granddaughter."
+
+"So she is. That's why I wash my hands of her. I couldn't control myself at her age, couldn't control my son, and I don't intend to handle a female of my line. It looks as if you'll have to arrest her."
+
+"Okay. Suppose I rent a room and put a good lock on it. You've got the one that connects with mine vacant."
+
+"I run a respectable house now, Gordon," Mother Corey stated flatly. "What you do outside my place is your own business. But no women, except married ones. Can't trust 'em."
+
+Gordon stared at the old man, but he apparently meant just what he said. "All right, Mother," he said finally. "How in hell do I marry her without any rigmarole?"
+
+Izzy's face seemed to drop toward the floor. Sheila came up off the couch with a choking cry and leaped for the door. Mother Corey's immense arm moved out casually, sweeping her back onto the couch.
+
+"Very convenient," the old man said. "The two of you simply fill out a form -- I've got a few left from the last time -- and get Izzy and me to witness it. Drop it in the mail, and you're married."
+
+"If you think I'd marry you, you filthy -- " Sheila began.
+
+Mother Corey listened attentively. "Rich, but not very imaginative," he said thoughtfully. "But she'll learn. Izzy, I have a feeling we should let them settle their differences."
+
+As the door shut behind them, Gordon yanked Sheila back to the couch. "Shut up!" he told her. "This isn't a game. Hell's popping here -- you know that better than most people. And I'm up to my neck in it. If I've got to marry you to keep you out of my hair, I will."
+
+Her face was pasty-white, but she bent her head, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. "So romantic," she sighed. "You sweep me off my feet. You -- Why, you -- "
+
+"Me or Trench! I can take you to him and tell him you're mixed up in Security, and that you either have papers on you or out at the Chicken Coop to prove it. He won't believe you if I take you in. Well?"
+
+She looked at him a long time in silence, and there was surprise in her eyes. "You'd do it! You really would.... All right; I'll sign your damned papers!"
+
+Ten minutes later, he stood in what was now a connecting double room, watching Mother Corey nail up the hall door to the room that was to be hers. There were no windows here, and his own room had an excellent lock on it already -- one he'd put on himself. Izzy came back as Mother Corey finished the door and began knocking a small panel out of the connecting door. The old man was surprisingly adept with his hands as he fitted hinges and a catch to the panel, and re-installed it so that Sheila could swing it open.
+
+"They're married," Izzy said. "It's in the mail to the register, along with the twenty credits. Gov'nor, we're about due to report in."
+
+Gordon nodded. "Be with you in a minute," he said as he paid Mother Corey for the materials and work. He jerked his head and the two men went out, leaving him alone with Sheila.
+
+"I'll bring you some food tonight. And you may not have a private bath, but it beats the Chicken Coop. Here." He handed her the key to the connecting door. "It's the only key there is."
+
+Chapter XI
+
+THE SKY'S THE LIMIT
+
+All that day, the three rocket ships sat out on the field. Nobody went up to them, and nobody came from them; surprisingly, Wayne had found the courage to ignore them. But rumors were circulating wildly. Bruce Gordon felt his nerves creeping out of his skin and beginning to stand on end to test each breeze for danger.
+
+With the credit they'd accumulated in the fund, nearly all their collection was theirs. Gordon went out to do some shopping. He stopped when his money was down to a hundred credits, hardly realizing what he was doing. When he went out, the street was going crazy.
+
+Izzy had been waiting, and filled him in. At exactly sundown, the rocket ships had thrown down ramps, and a stream of jeeps had ridden down them and toward the south entrance to the dome. They had presented some sort of paper and forced the guard to let them through. There were about two hundred men, some of them armed. They had driven straight to the huge, barnlike Employment Bureau, had chased out the few people remaining there, and had simply taken over. Now there was a sign in front which simply said MARSPORT LEGAL POLICE FORCE HEADQUARTERS. Then the jeeps had driven back to the rockets, gone on board, and the ships had taken off.
+
+Gordon glanced at his watch, finding it hard to believe it could have been done so quickly. But it was two hours after sundown.
+
+Now a car with a loudspeaker on top rolled into view -- a completely armored car. It stopped, and the speaker began operating.
+
+"Citizens of Marsport! In order to protect your interests from the proven rapacity of the administration here, Earth has revoked the independent charter of Marsport. The past elections are hereby declared null and void. Your home world has appointed Marcus Gannett as mayor, with Philip Crane as chief of police. Other members of the council will be by appointment until legal elections can be held safely. The Municipal Police Force is disbanded, and the Legal Police Force is now being organized.
+
+"All police and officers who remain loyal to the legal government will be accepted at their present grade or higher. To those who now leave the illegal Municipal Force and accept their duty with the Legal Force, there will be no question of past conduct. Nor will they suffer financially from the change!
+
+"Banks will be reopened as rapidly as the Legal Government can extend its control, and all deposits previously made will be honored in full."
+
+That brought a cheer from the crowd, as the sound truck moved on. Gordon saw two of the police officers nearby fingering their badges thoughtfully.
+
+Then another truck rolled into view, and the Mayor's canned voice came over it, panting as if he'd had to rush to make the recording. He began directly:
+
+"Martians! Earth has declared war on us. She has denied us our right to rule ourselves -- a right guaranteed in our charter. We admit there have been abuses; all young civilizations make mistakes. But we've developed and grown.
+
+"This is an old pattern, fellow Martians! England tried it on her colonies three hundred years ago. And the people rose up and demanded their right to rule themselves. They had troubles with their governments, too -- and they had panics. But they won their freedom, and it made them great -- so great that now that one nation -- not all Earth, but that single nation! -- is trying to do to us what she wouldn't permit to herself.
+
+"Well, we don't have an army. But neither do they. They know the people of this world wouldn't stand for the landing of foreign -- that's right, foreign -- troops. So they're trying to steal our police force from us and use it for their war.
+
+"Fellow Martians, they aren't going to bribe us into that! Mars has had enough. I declare us to be in a state of revolution. And since they have chosen the weapons, I declare our loyal and functioning Municipal Police Force to be our army. Any man who deserts will be considered a traitor. But any man who sticks will be rewarded more than he ever expected. We're going to protect our freedom.
+
+"Let them open their banks -- our banks -- again. And when they have established your accounts, go in and collect the money! If they give it to you, Mars is that much richer. If they don't, you'll know they're lying.
+
+"Let them bribe us if they like. We're going to win this war."
+
+Gordon felt the crowd's reaction twist again, and he had to admit that Wayne had played his cards well.
+
+But it didn't make the question of where he belonged, or what he should do, any easier. He waited until the crowd had thinned out a little and began heading toward Corey's, with Izzy moving along silently beside him, carrying half the packages.
+
+He remembered the promise of forgiveness for all sins on joining the new Legal Force; but he'd read enough history to know that it was fine -- as long as the struggle continued. Afterwards, promises grew dim....
+
+He had no use for the present administration, but Earth had no right to take over without a formal investigation, and a chance for the people to state their choice.
+
+Then he grimaced at himself. He was in no position to move according to right and wrong. The only question that counted was how he had the best chance to ride out the storm, and to get back to Earth and a normal life.
+
+He was still in a brown study as he took the bundles from Izzy and dropped them on his bed. Izzy went out, and Gordon stood staring at the wall. Trench? Or the new Commissioner Crane? If Earth should win -- and they had most of the power, after all -- and Bruce Gordon had fought against Security, the mines of Mercury were waiting.
+
+He picked up the stuff from his bed and started to sweep it aside before he lay down. Then he remembered at last; he knocked on the panel, until it finally opened a crack.
+
+"Here," he told her. "Food, and some other stuff. There are some refuse bags, too. Yell when you want them removed."
+
+She took the bundles woodenly until she came to a plastic can. Then she gasped. "Water! Two gallons!"
+
+"There are heat tablets, and a skin tub." The salesgirl had explained how one gallon was enough in the plastic bag that served as a tub; he had his doubts. "Detergent. The whole works."
+
+She hauled the stuff in and started to close the panel. Then she hesitated. "I suppose I should thank you, but I don't like to be told I stink so much you can't stand me in the next room!"
+
+"Hell, I've gotten so I can stand your grandfather," he answered. "It wasn't that." The panel slammed shut.
+
+* * * * *
+
+He still hadn't solved his problem in the morning; out of habit, he put on his uniform and went across to Izzy's room. But Izzy was already gone.
+
+Gordon fished into the pocket of his uniform for paper and a pencil to leave a note in case Izzy came back. His fingers found the half notebook cover instead. He drew it out, scowling at it, and started to crumple it. Then he stopped, staring at the piece of imitation leather and paper that wouldn't bend.
+
+His fingers were still stiff as he began tearing off the thin covering with his knife; the paper backing peeled away easily.
+
+Under it lay a thin metal plate that glowed faintly even in the dim light of Izzy's room! Gordon nearly dropped it. He'd seen such an identification plate once before.
+
+The printing on it leaped at him: "This will identify the bearer, BRUCE IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security, empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of this office." The printing in capitals was obviously done by hand, but with the same catalytic "ink" as the rest of the badge. Murdoch must have prepared it, hidden it in the notebook, then died before the secret could be revealed.
+
+A knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother Corey.
+
+"You've got a visitor -- outside," he announced. "Trench. And I don't like the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get him away!"
+
+Gordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform. "Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?"
+
+Gordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down half a block. "All right," he said, when the coffee began waking him. "What's the angle?"
+
+Trench dropped the eyes that had been boring into him. "I'll have to trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or I can't depend on anyone being loyal."
+
+During the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne, Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces already controlled about half the city.
+
+"So?" Gordon asked. He could have told Trench that the fund was good-enough reason for most police deserting.
+
+Trench put his coffee down and yelled for more. It was obvious he'd spent the night without sleep. "So we're going to need men with guts. Gordon, you had training under Murdoch -- who knew his business. And you aren't a coward, as most of these fat fools are. I've got a proposition, straight from Wayne."
+
+"I'm listening."
+
+"Here." Trench threw across a platinum badge. "Take that -- captain at large -- and conscript any of the Municipal Force you want, up to a hundred. Pick out any place you want, train them to handle those damned Legals the way Murdoch handled the Stonewall boys. In return, the sky's the limit. Name your own salary, once you've done the job. And no kickbacks, either!"
+
+Gordon picked up the badge slowly and buckled it on, while a grim, satisfied smile spread over Trench's features. The problem seemed to have been solved. Gordon should have been satisfied, but he felt like Judas picking up the thirty pieces of silver. He tried to swallow them with the dregs of his coffee, and they stuck in his throat.
+
+Comes the revolution and we'll all eat strawberries and scream!
+
+A hubbub sounded outside, and Trench grimaced as a police whistle sounded, and a Municipal cop ran by. "We're in enemy territory," he said. "The Legals got this precinct last night. Captain Hendrix and some of his men wanted to come back with full battle equipment and chase them out. I had a hell of a time getting them to take it easy. I suppose that was some damned fool who tried to go back to his beat."
+
+"Then you'd better look again," Gordon told him. He'd gone to the door and was peering out. Up the narrow little street was rolling a group of about seventy Municipal police and half a dozen small trucks. The men were wearing guns. And up the street a man in bright green uniform was pounding his fist up and down in emphasis as he called in over the precinct box.
+
+"The idiot!" Trench grabbed Gordon and spun out, running toward the advancing men. "We've got to stop this. Get my car -- up the street -- call Arliss on the phone -- under the dash. Or Wayne. I'll bring Hendrix."
+
+Trench's system made some sense, and this business of marching as to war made none at all. Gordon grabbed the phone from under the dash. A sleepy voice answered to say that Commissioner Arliss and Mayor Wayne were sleeping. They'd had a hard night, and...
+
+"Damn it, there's a rebellion going on!" Gordon told the man. Rebellion, rebellion! He'd meant to say revolution, but...
+
+Trench was arguing frantically with the pompous figure of Captain Hendrix. From the other end of the street, a group of small cars appeared; and men began piling out, all in shiny green.
+
+"Who's this?" the phone asked. When Gordon identified himself, there was a snort of disgust. "Yes, yes, congratulations. Trench was quite right; you're fully authorized. Did you call me out of bed just to check on that, young man?"
+
+"No, I -- " Then he hung up. Hendrix had dropped to his knees and fired before Trench could knock the gun from his hands.
+
+There was no answering fire. The Legals simply came boiling down the street, equipped with long pikes with lead-weighted ends. And Hendrix came charging up, his men straggling behind him. Gordon was squarely in the middle. He considered staying in Trench's car and letting it roll past him. But he'd taken the damned badge.
+
+"Hell," he said in disgust. He climbed out, just as the two groups met. It all had a curious feeling of unreality.
+
+Then a man jumped for him, swinging a pike, and the feeling was suddenly gone. His hand snapped down sharply for a rock on the street. The pike whistled over his head, barely missing, and he was up, squashing the big stone into the face of the other. He jerked the pike away, kicked the man in the neck as he fell, and unsheathed his knife with the other hand.
+
+Trench was a few feet away. The man might be a louse, but he was also a fighting machine of first order, still. He'd already captured one of the pikes. Now he grinned tightly at Gordon and began moving toward him. Gordon nodded -- in a brawl such as this, two working together had a distinct advantage.
+
+Then a yell sounded as more Legals poured down the street. One of them was obviously Izzy, wearing the same green as the others!
+
+Gordon felt something hit his back, and instinctively fell, soaking up the blow. He managed to bend his neck and roll, coming to his feet. His knife slashed upwards, and the Legal fell -- almost on top of the Security badge that had dropped from Gordon's pouch.
+
+He jerked himself down and scooped it up, his eyes darting for Trench. He stuffed it back, ducking a blow. Then his glance fell on the entrance to Mother Corey's house -- with Sheila Corey coming out of the seal!
+
+Gordon threw himself back; he had to get to her.
+
+He hadn't been watching as closely as he should. He saw the pike coming down and tried to duck...
+
+He was vaguely conscious later of looking up, to see Sheila dragging him into some entrance, while Trench ran toward them. Sheila and Trench together -- and the Security badge was still in his pouch!
+
+Chapter XII
+
+WIFE OR PRISONER?
+
+Something cold and damp against his forehead brought Gordon part way out of his unconsciousness finally. There was the softness of a bed under him and the bitter aftertaste of Migrainol on his tongue. He tried to move, but nothing happened. The drug killed pain, but only at the expense of a temporary paralysis of all voluntary motion.
+
+There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.
+
+Steps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.
+
+"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!"
+
+"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy," Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed. "Had to be big to fit me."
+
+"You mean you hid Trench out, too?" Izzy asked.
+
+There was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together. "A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it."
+
+"Lay off, Mother," Izzy said sharply. "I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals."
+
+"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant," Mother Corey observed. "Without telling cobber Gordon!"
+
+"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee."
+
+Mother Corey chuckled. "Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?"
+
+The steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!
+
+He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.
+
+Fingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.
+
+Her eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her. "Hi, Cuddles," he said flatly.
+
+She bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain. "Hello, Bruce. You okay?"
+
+"How long have I been like this?"
+
+"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight." She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head. "Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee..."
+
+"Coffee." He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.
+
+"Why'd you come back?" he asked suddenly. "You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out."
+
+"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it."
+
+He couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge. "Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?"
+
+"Because I needed a meal ticket!" she said harshly. "When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!"
+
+It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.
+
+"You're a fool!" he told her bitterly. "You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- "
+
+"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now." She grimaced. "You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea."
+
+He'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed. "I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?"
+
+She shook her head. "I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking..." She went into the other room and shut the door. There was the sound of the lock being worked, and then silence.
+
+He stared at the door foolishly, swearing at all women; then grimaced and turned back to the chair where his uniform still lay. He could stay here fighting with her, or he could face his troubles on the outside. The whole thing hinged on Trench; unless Trench had shown the badge to others, his problem boiled down to a single man.
+
+Gordon found one tablet of painkiller left in the bottle and swallowed it with the dregs of the coffee. He made sure his knife was in its sheath and that the gun at his side was loaded. He found his police club, checked the loop at its end, and slipped it onto his wrist.
+
+At the door to the hall, he hesitated, staring at Sheila's room. Wife or prisoner? He turned it over in his mind, knowing that her words couldn't change the facts. But in the end, he dropped the key and half his money beside her door, along with a spare knife and one of his guns.
+
+He went by Izzy's room without stopping; technically, the boy was an enemy to all Municipals. This might be neutral territory, but there was no use pressing it. Gordon went down the stairs and out through the seal onto the street entrance, still in the shadows.
+
+His eyes covered the street in two quick scans. Far up, a Legal cop was passing beyond the range of the single dim light. At the other end, a pair of figures skulked along, trying the door of each house they passed. With the cops busy fighting each other, this was better pickings than outside the dome.
+
+He saw the Legal cop move out of sight and stepped onto the street, trying to look like another petty crook on the prowl. He headed for the nearest alley, which led through the truckyard of Nick the Croop.
+
+The entrance was in nearly complete darkness. Gordon loosened his knife and tightened his grip on the locust stick.
+
+Suddenly a whisper of sound caught his ears. He stopped, not too quickly, and listened, but everything was still. A hundred feet farther on, and within twenty yards of the trucks, a swishing rustle reached his ears and light slashed hotly into his eyes. Hands grabbed at his arms, and a club swung down toward his knife. But the warning had been enough. Gordon's arms jerked upwards to avoid the reaching hands. His boot lifted, and the flashlight spun aside, broken and dark. With a continuous motion, he switched the knife to his left hand in a thumb-up position and brought it back. There was a grunt of pain; he stepped backwards and twisted. His hands caught the man behind, lifted across a hip, and heaved, just before the front man reached him.
+
+The two ambushers were down in a tangled mess. There was just enough light to make out faint outlines, and Gordon brought his locust club down twice, with the hollow thud of wood on skulls.
+
+His head was swimming in a hot maelstrom of pain, but it was quieting as his breathing returned to normal. As long as his opponents were slower or less ruthless, he could take care of himself.
+
+The trouble, though, was that Isaiah Trench was neither slow nor squeamish.
+
+Gordon gathered the two hoodlums under his arms and dragged them with him. He came out in the truckyard and began searching. Nick the Croop had ridden his reputation long enough to be careless, and the third truck had its key still in the lock. He threw the two into the back and struck a cautious light.
+
+One of them was Jurgens' apelike follower, his stupid face relaxed and vacant. The other was probably also one of Jurgens' growing mob of protection racketeers. Gordon yanked out the man's wallet, but there was no identification; it held only a small sheaf of bills.
+
+He stripped out the money -- and finally put half of it back into the wallet and dropped it beside the hoodlum. Even in jail, a man had to have smokes.
+
+He stuck to the alleys, not using the headlights, after he had locked the two in and started the electric motor. He had no clear idea of how the battles were going, but it looked as if the Seventh Precinct was still in Municipal hands.
+
+There was no one at the side entrance to Seventh Precinct Headquarters and only two corporals on duty inside; the rest were probably out fighting the Legals, or worrying about it. One of the corporals started to stand up and halt him, but wavered at the sight of the captain's star that was still pinned to his uniform.
+
+"Special prisoners," Gordon told him sharply. "I've got to get information to Trench -- and in private!"
+
+The corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.
+
+There was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens. "Outside!" he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down. "Oh, it's you, Gordon?"
+
+"Where's Captain Trench?"
+
+The heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled. "Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know."
+
+Gordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.
+
+"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you," Jurgens said. "But I guess they didn't reach you before you left."
+
+Gordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck. "They hadn't arrived when I left the house," he said truthfully enough.
+
+Jurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. "Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- "
+
+His voice was perfectly normal, but Gordon saw the hand move suddenly toward the drawer that was half-open. And the cigarette lighter was attached to the other side of the desk.
+
+The locust stick left Gordon's hand with a snap. It cut through the air a scant eight feet, jerked to a stop against Jurgens' forehead and clattered onto the top of the desk, while Jurgens folded over, his mouth still open, his hand slumping out of the drawer. The club rolled toward Gordon, who caught it before it could reach the floor.
+
+But Jurgens was only momentarily out. As Gordon slipped the loop over his wrist again, one of the new captain's hands groped, seeking a button on the edge of the desk.
+
+The two corporals were at the door when Gordon threw it open, but they drew back at the sight of his drawn gun. Feet were pounding below as he found the entrance that led to the truck. He hit the seat and rammed down the throttle with his foot before he could get his hands on the wheel.
+
+It was a full minute before sirens sounded behind him, and Nick the Croop had fast trucks. He spotted the squad car far behind, ducked through a maze of alleys, and lost it for another few precious minutes. Then a barricade lay ahead.
+
+The truck faltered as it hit the nearly finished obstacle, and Gordon felt his stomach squashing down onto the wheel. He kept his foot to the floor, strewing bits of the barricade behind him, until he was beyond the range of the Legal guns that were firing suddenly. Then he stopped and got out carefully, with his hands up.
+
+"Captain Bruce Gordon, with two prisoners -- bodyguards of Captain Jurgens," he reported to the three men in bright new Legal uniform who were approaching warily. "How do I sign up with you?"
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+ARREST MAYOR WAYNE!
+
+The Legal forces were shorthanded and eager for recruits. They had struck quickly, according to plans made by experts on Earth, and now controlled about half of Marsport. But it was a sprawling crescent around the central section, harder to handle than the Municipal territory. Bruce Gordon was sworn in at once.
+
+Then he cooled his heels while the florid, paunchy ex-politician Commissioner Crane worried about his rating and repeated how corrupt Mars was and how the collection system was over -- absolutely over. In the end, he was given a captain's pay and the rank of sergeant. As a favor, he was allowed to share a beat with Honest Izzy under Captain Hendrix, who had simply switched sides after losing the morning's battle.
+
+Gordon's credits were changed to Legal scrip, and he was issued a trim-fitting green uniform. Then a surprisingly competent doctor examined his wound, rebandaged it, and sent him home for the day. The change was finished -- and he felt like a grown man playing with dolls.
+
+He walked back, watching the dull-looking people closing off their homes, as they had done at elections. Here and there, houses had been broken into during the night. There were occasional buzzes of angry conversation that cut off as he approached.
+
+Marsport had learned to hate all cops, and a change of uniform hadn't altered that; instead, the people seemed to resent the loss of the familiar symbol of hatred.
+
+He found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's. Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform. "I knew it, gov'nor -- knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'em give you my beat?"
+
+He seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, to point to Randolph. "Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's Crusader. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for his reputation."
+
+"You'll be late, Izzy," Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realized that Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. He watched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolph picked it out of his hand. "You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don't have to eat this filth."
+
+Gordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publisher motioned him back again.
+
+"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda," he said wearily. "New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. "My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her -- and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!"
+
+He got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordon turned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for his room, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened her eyes at his uniform, but made no comment. "Food ready in ten minutes," she told him.
+
+She'd already been shopping, and had installed the tiny cooking equipment used in half Marsport. There was also a small iron lying beside a pile of his laundered clothes. He dropped onto the bed wearily, then jerked upright as she came over to remove his boots. But there was no mockery on her face -- and oddly, it felt good to him. Maybe her idea of married life was different from his.
+
+She was sanding the dishes and putting them away when he finally remembered the ring. He studied it again, then got up and dropped it beside her. He was surprised as she fumbled it on to see that it fitted -- and more surprised at the sudden realization that she was entitled to it.
+
+She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned to her room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse. "I got a duplicate key. Yours is in there," she said thickly. "And -- something else. I guess I was going to give it to you anyway. I was afraid someone else might find it -- "
+
+He cut her off brusquely, his eyes riveted on the Security badge he'd been sure Trench had taken. "Yeah, I know. Your meal ticket was in danger. Okay, you've done your nightly duty. Now get the hell out of my room, will you?"
+
+* * * * *
+
+The week went on mechanically, while he gradually adjusted to the new angles of being a Legal. The banks were open, and deposits honored, as promised. But it was in the printing-press scrip of Legal currency, useful only through Mayor Gannett's trick Exchanges. Water went up from fourteen credits to eighty credits for a gallon of pure distilled. Other things were worse. Resentment flared, but the scrip was the only money available, and it still bound the people to the new regime.
+
+Supplies were scarce, salt and sugar almost unavailable. Earth had cut off all shipping until the affair was settled, and nobody in the outlands would deal in scrip.
+
+He came home the third evening to find that Sheila had managed to find space for her bunk in his room, cut off by a heavy screen, and had closed the other room to save the rent. It led to some relaxation between them, and they began talking impersonally.
+
+Gordon watched for a sign that Trench had passed on his evidence of the murder of Murdoch, but there was none. The pressure of the beat took his mind from it. Looting had stepped up.
+
+Izzy had co-operated -- reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince him that it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded. "It's a helluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay for protection any old way, then they're gonna get it!"
+
+They got it. Hoodlums began moving elsewhere, toward easier pickings.
+
+Gordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it would barely keep them in food for a week. "I told you you had a punched meal ticket," he said bitterly.
+
+"We'll live," she answered him. "I got a job today -- barmaid, on your beat, where being your wife helps."
+
+He could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went to Izzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such small raids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, but actually they were out-and-out looting.
+
+He came back to find her cleaning up, and shoved her away. "Go to bed. You look beat. I'll sand these."
+
+She started to protest, then let him take over.
+
+They never made the looting raid. The next morning, they arrived at the Precinct house to find men milling around the bulletin board, buzzing over an announcement there. Apparently, Chief Justice Arliss had broken with the Wayne administration, and the mimeographed form was a legal ruling that Wayne was no longer Mayor, since the charter had been voided. He was charged with inciting a riot, and a warrant had been issued for his arrest.
+
+Hendrix appeared finally. "All right, men," he shouted. "You all see it. We're going to arrest Wayne. By jingo, they can't say we ain't legal now! Every odd-numbered shield goes from every precinct. Gordon, Isaacs -- you two been talking big about law and order. Here's the warrant. Take it and arrest Wayne!"
+
+It took nearly an hour to get the plans settled, but finally they headed for the trucks that had been arriving. Most of them belonged to Nick the Croop, who had apparently decided the Legals would win.
+
+Gordon and Izzy found the lead truck and led the way. They neared the bar where Sheila was working, and Bruce Gordon swore. She was running toward the center of the street, frantically trying to flag him down, and he barely managed to swerve around her. "Damned fool!" he muttered.
+
+Izzy's pock-marked face soured for a second as he stared at Gordon. "The princess? She sure is."
+
+The crew at the barricade had been alerted, and now began clearing it aside hastily, while others kept up a covering fire against the few Municipals. The trucks wheeled through, and Gordon dropped back to let scout trucks go ahead and pick off any rash enough to head for the call boxes. They couldn't prevent advance warning, but they could delay and minimize it.
+
+They were near the big Municipal building when they came to the first real opposition, and it was obviously hastily assembled. The scouts took care of most of the trouble, though a few shots pinged against the truck Gordon was driving.
+
+"Rifles!" Izzy commented in disgust. "They'll ruin the dome yet. Why can't they stick to knives?"
+
+He was studying a map of the big building, picking their best entrance. Ahead, trucks formed a sort of V formation as they reached the grounds around it and began bulling their way through the groups that were trying to organize a defense. Gordon found his way cleared and shot through, emerging behind the defense and driving at full speed toward the entrance Izzy pointed out.
+
+"Cut speed! Left sharp!" Izzy shouted. "Now, in there!"
+
+They sliced into a small tunnel, scraping their sides where it was barely big enough for the truck. Then they reached a dead end, with just room for them to squeeze through the door of the truck and into an entrance marked with a big notice of privacy.
+
+There was a guard beside an elevator, but Izzy's knife took care of him. They ducked around the elevator, unsure of whether it could be remotely controlled, and up a narrow flight of stairs, down a hallway, and up another flight. A Municipal corporal at the top grabbed for a warning whistle, but Gordon clipped him with a hasty rabbit punch and shoved him down the stairs. Then they were in front of an ornate door, with their weapons ready.
+
+Izzy yanked the door open and dropped flat behind it. Bullets from a submachine gun clipped out, peppering the entrance and the door, and ricocheting down the hall. The yammering stopped, finally, and Izzy stuck his head and one arm out with a snap of his knife. Gordon leaped in, to see a Municipal dropping the machine gun.
+
+There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, with Trench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected the machine gun to do all the work.
+
+Izzy leaped for the machine gun and yanked it from dead hands, while the cops slowly began raising their arms. Wayne sat petrified, staring unbelievingly, and Gordon drew out the warrant. "Wayne, you're under arrest!"
+
+Trench moved forward, his hands in the air, but with no mark of surprise or fear on his face. "So the bad pennies turn up. You damned fools, you should have stuck. I had big plans for you, Gordon. I've still got them, if you don't insist..."
+
+His hands whipped down savagely toward his hips and came up sharply! Gordon spun, and the gun leaped in his hands, while the submachine gun jerked forward and clicked on an empty chamber. Trench was tumbling forward to avoid the shot, but he twitched as a bullet creased his shoulder. Then he was upright, waving empty hands at them, with the thin smile on his face deepening. He'd had no guns.
+
+Gordon jerked around, but Wayne was already disappearing through a heavy door. And the cops were reaching for their guns. Gordon estimated the chances of escape and then leaped forward into their group, with Izzy at his side, seeking close quarters where guns wouldn't work.
+
+Gun butts, elbows, fists, and clubs were pounding at him, while his own club lashed out savagely. In ten seconds, things began to haze over, but his arms went on mechanically, seeking the most damage they could work.
+
+Then a heavy bellow sounded, and a seeming mountain of flesh thundered across the huge room. There was no shuffle to Mother Corey now. The huge legs pumped steadily, and the great arms were reaching out to flail aside clubs and knives. Men began spewing out of the brawl like straw from a thresher as the old man grabbed arms, legs, or whatever was handy. He had one cop in his left arm, using him as a flail against the others.
+
+The Municipals broke. And at the first sign, Mother Corey leaped forward, dropping his flail and gathering Izzy and Gordon under his arms. He hit the heavy door with his shoulder and crashed through without breaking stride. Stairs lay there, and he took them three at a time.
+
+He dropped them finally as they came to a side entrance. There was a sporadic firing going on there, and a knot of Municipals were clustered around a few Legals, busy with knives and clubs. Corey broke into a run again, driving straight into them and through, with Gordon and Izzy on his heels. The surprise element was enough to give them a few seconds.
+
+Then they were around a small side building, out of danger. Sheila was holding the door of a large three-wheeler open. They ducked into it, while she grabbed the wheel.
+
+They edged forward until they could make out the shape of the fight going on. The Legals had never quite reached the front of the building, obviously, and were now cut into sections. Corey tapped her shoulder, pointing out the rout, and she gunned the car.
+
+They were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups of battle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first side street they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main street back to Legal territory.
+
+"Lucky we found a good car to steal," Mother Corey wheezed. He was puffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. "I'm getting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth -- still stand, too. But not now. Senile!"
+
+"You didn't have to come," Izzy said.
+
+"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?"
+
+Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.
+
+Izzy grunted suddenly. "Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees pay my salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybe that somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift from the gees?"
+
+"We still have to eat," Gordon said bitterly. "And to eat, we'll go on doing what we're told."
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+FULL CIRCLE
+
+Hendrix had been wounded lightly, and was out when Gordon and Izzy reported. But the next day, they were switched to a new beat where trouble had been thickest and given twelve-hour duty -- without special overtime.
+
+Izzy considered it slowly and shook his head. "That does it, gov'nor. It ain't honest, treating us this way. If the crackle comes from the people, and these gees give everybody a skull cracking, then they're crooks. It ain't honest, and I'm too sick to work. And if that bloody doctor won't agree..."
+
+He turned toward the dispensary. Gordon hesitated, and then swung off woodenly to take up his new beat. Apparently, his reputation had gone ahead of him, since most of the hoodlums had decided pickings would be easier on some beat where the cops had their own secret rackets to attend to, instead of head busting. But once they learned he was alone...
+
+But the second day, two of the citizens fell into step behind him almost at once, armed with heavy clubs. Periodically during the shift, replacements took their place, making sure that he was never by himself. It surprised him even more when he saw that a couple of the men had come over from his old beat. Something began to burn inside him, but he held himself in, confining his talk to vague comments on the rumors going around.
+
+There were enough of them, mostly based on truth. Part of Jurgens' old crowd had broken away from him and established a corner on most of the drugs available; they had secretly traded a supply to Wayne, who had become an addict, for a stock of weapons.
+
+Gordon remembered the contraband shipment of guns, and compared it to the increase he'd noticed in weapons, and to the impossible prices the pushers were demanding. It made sense.
+
+All kinds of supplies were low, and the outlands beyond Marsport had cut off all shipments. Scrip was useless to them, and the Legals were raiding all cargoes destined for Wayne's section. And the Municipals had imposed new taxes again.
+
+He came back from what should have been his day off to find Izzy in uniform, waiting grimly. Behind the screen, there was a rustling of clothes, and a dress came sailing from behind it. While he stared, Sheila came out, finishing the zipping of her airsuit. She moved to a small bag and began drawing out the gun she had used and a knife. He caught her shoulders and shoved her back, pulling the weapons from her.
+
+"Get out of my way, you damned Legal machine!" she spat.
+
+"Easy, princess," Izzy said. "He hasn't seen it yet, I guess. Here, gov'nor!"
+
+He picked up a copy of Randolph's new little Truth and pointed to the headline: SECURITY DENOUNCES RAPE OF MARSPORT!
+
+The story was somewhat cooler than that, but not much. Randolph simply quoted what was supposed to be an official cable from Security on Earth, denouncing both governments and demanding that both immediately surrender. It listed the crimes of Wayne, then tore into the Legals as a bunch of dupes, sent by North America to foment trouble while they looted the city, and to give the Earth government an excuse for seizing military control of Marsport officially. Citizens were instructed not to co-operate; all members of either government were indicted for high treason to Security!
+
+He crushed the paper slowly, tearing it to bits with his clenched hands; he'd swallowed the implication that the Legals were Security...
+
+Then it hit him slowly, and he looked up. "Where's Randolph?"
+
+"At his plant. At least he left for it, according to Sheila."
+
+Gordon picked up Sheila's gun and buckled it on beside his own. She grabbed at it, but he shoved her back again. "You're staying here, Cuddles. You're supposed to be a woman now, remember!"
+
+She was swearing hotly as they left, but made no attempt to follow. Gordon broke into a slow trot behind Izzy, until they could spot one of the few remaining cabs. He stopped it with his whistle, and dumped the passenger out unceremoniously, while Izzy gave the address.
+
+"The damned fool opened up on the border -- figured he'd circulate to both sections," Izzy said. "We'd better get out a block up and walk. And I hope we ain't too bloody late!"
+
+The building was a wreck, outside; inside it was worse. Men in the Municipal uniform were working over the small job press and dumping the hand-set type from the boxes. On the floor, a single Legal cop lay under the wreckage, apparently having gotten there first and been taken care of by the later Municipals. Randolph had been sitting in a chair between two of the cops, but now he leaped up and tried to flee through the back door.
+
+Izzy started forward, but Gordon pulled him back, as the cops reached for their weapons. The gun in his hand picked them out at quarters too close for a miss, starting with the cop who had jumped to catch Randolph. Izzy had ducked around the side, and now came back, leading the little man.
+
+Randolph paid no attention to the dead men, nor to the bruises on his own body. He moved forward to the press, staring at it, and there were tears in his eyes as he ran his hands over the broken metal. Then he looked up at them. "Arrest or rescue?" he asked.
+
+"Arrest!" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. "Good work, Sergeant. By jinx, when I heard the Municipals were coming, I was scared they'd get him for sure. Crane wants to watch this guy shot in person!"
+
+He grabbed Randolph by the arm.
+
+"You're overlooking something, Hendrix," Gordon cut in. He had moved back toward the wall, to face the group. "If you ever look at my record, you'll find I'm an ex-newspaperman myself. This is a rescue. Tie them up, Izzy."
+
+Hendrix was faster than Gordon had thought. He had his gun almost up before Gordon could fire. A bluish hole appeared on the man's forehead; he dropped slowly. The others made no trouble as Izzy bound them with baling wire.
+
+"And I hope nobody finds them," he commented. "All right, Randy, I guess we're a bunch of refugees heading for the outside, and bloody lucky at that. Proves a man shouldn't have friends."
+
+Randolph's face was still greenish-white, but he straightened and managed a feeble smile. "Not to me, Izzy. Right now I can appreciate friends. But you two better get going. I've got some unfinished business to tend to." He moved to one corner and began dragging out an old double-cylinder mimeograph. "Either of you know where I can buy stencils and ink and find some kind of a truck to haul this paper along?"
+
+Izzy stopped and stared at the rabbity, pale little man. Then he let out a sudden yelp of laughter. "Okay, Randy, we'll find them. Gov'nor, you'd better tell my mother I'll be using the old sheets. Go on. You've got the princess to worry about. We'll be along later."
+
+He grabbed Randolph's hand and ducked out the back before Gordon could protest.
+
+Izzy could only have meant that they were going to hole up in Mother Corey's old Chicken Coop. Bruce Gordon had now managed to make a full circle, back to his beginnings on Mars. He'd started at the Coop with a deck of cards; now he was returning with a club.
+
+He had counted on at least some regret from Mother Corey, however. But the old man only nodded after hearing that Randolph was safe. "Fanatics, crusaders and damned fools!" he said. He shook his head sadly and went shuffling back to his room, where two of his part-time henchmen were sitting.
+
+Sheila had been sitting on the bunk, still in her airsuit. Now she jerked upright, then sank back with a slow flush. Her hands were trembling as she reached for a cup of coffee and handed it to him, listening to his quick report of Randolph's safety and the fact that he was going back outside the dome.
+
+"I'm all packed," she said. "And I packed your things, too."
+
+He shot his eyes around the room, realizing that it was practically bare, except for a few of her dresses. She followed his gaze, and shook her head. "I won't need them out there," she said. Her voice caught on that. "They'll be safe here."
+
+"So will you, now that you've made up with the Mother," he told her. "Your meal ticket's ruined, Cuddles, and you made it clear a little while ago just where you stand. Remind me to tell you sometime how much fun it's been."
+
+"Your mother was good with a soldering iron, wasn't she? You even look human." She bent to pick up a shoulder pack and a bag, and her face was normal when she stood up again. "You might guess that the cops would be happy to get hold of your wife now, though. Come on, it's a long walk."
+
+He left the car beyond the gate, and they pushed through the locker room toward the smaller exit, stopping to fasten down their helmets. The guard halted them, but without any suspicion.
+
+"Going hunting for those damned kids, eh?" he said. He stared at Sheila. "Lucky devil! All I got for a guide was an old bum. Okay, luck, Sergeant!"
+
+It made no sense to Gordon, but he wasn't going to argue. They went through and out into the waste and slums beyond the domes, heading out until there were only the few phosphor bulbs to guide their way.
+
+Gordon was moving cautiously, using his helmet light only occasionally, gun ready in his hand. But it was Sheila who caught the faint sound. He heard her cry out, and turned to see her crash into the stomach of a man with a half-raised stick. He went down with almost no resistance. Sheila shot the beam of her light on the thin, drawn face. "Rusty!"
+
+"Hi, princess." He got up slowly, trying to grin. "Didn't know who it was. Sorry. Ever get that louse you were out for?"
+
+She nodded. "Yeah, I got him. That's him -- my husband! What's wrong with you, Rusty? You've lost fifty pounds, and -- "
+
+"Things are a mite tough out here, princess. No deliveries. Closed my bar, been living sort of hand to mouth, but not much mouth." His eyes bulged greedily as she dug into a bag and began to drag out the sandwiches she must have packed for the trip. But he shook his head. "I ain't so bad off. I ate something yesterday. But if you can spare something for the Kid -- Hey, Kid!"
+
+A thin boy of about sixteen crept out from behind some rubble, staring uncertainly. Then, at the sight of the food, he made a lunge, grabbed it, and hardly waited to get it through the slits of his suit before gulping it down. Rusty sat down, his lined old face breaking into a faint grin. He hesitated, but finally took some of the food.
+
+"Shouldn't oughta. You'll need it. Umm." He swallowed slowly, as if tasting the food all the way down. "Kid can't talk. Cop caught him peddling one of Randolph's pamphlets, cut out part of his tongue. But he's all right now. Come on, Kid, hurry it up. We gotta convoy these people."
+
+They were following a kind of road when headlights bore down on them. Gordon's hand was on his gun as they leaped for shelter, but there was no hostile move from the big truck. He studied it, trying to decide what a truck would be doing here. Then a Marspeaker-amplified voice shouted from it. "Any muckrakers there?"
+
+"One," Gordon shouted back, and ran toward it, motioning the others to follow. He'd always objected to the nickname, but it made a good code. Randolph's frail hand came down to help them up, but a bigger paw did the actual lifting.
+
+"Why didn't you two wait?" Mother Corey asked, his voice booming out of his Marspeaker. "I figured Izzy'd stop by first. Here, sit over there. Not much room, with my stuff and Randolph's, but it beats walking."
+
+"What in hell brings you back?" Gordon asked.
+
+The huge man shrugged ponderously. "A man gets tired of being respectable, cobber. And I'm getting old and sentimental about the Chicken Coop." He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. "But not so old that I can't handle a couple of guards that are stubborn about trucks, eh, Izzy?"
+
+"Messy, but nice," Izzy agreed from the pile above them. "Tell those trained apes of yours to cut the lights, will you, Mother? Somebody must be using the Coop."
+
+They stopped the truck before reaching the old wreck. In the few dim lights, the old building still gave off an air of mold and decay. Gordon shuddered faintly, then followed Izzy and the Mother into the semi-secret entrance.
+
+Izzy went ahead, almost silent, with a thin strand of wire between his hands, his elbows weaving back and forth slowly to guide him. He was apparently as familiar with the garrote as the knife. But they found no guard. Izzy pressed the seal release and slid in cautiously, while the others followed.
+
+In the beam of Gordon's torch, a single figure lay sprawled out on the floor halfway to the rickety stairs to the main house. Mother Corey grunted, and moved quickly to the coughing, battered old air machine. His fingers closed a valve equipped with a combination lock.
+
+"They're all dead, cobbers," he wheezed. "Dead because a crook had to try his hand on a lock. Years ago, I had a flask of poison gas attached, in case a gang should ever squeeze me out."
+
+In the filthy rooms above, Gordon found the corpses -- about fifteen of them, and some former members of the Jurgens organization. He found the apelike bodyguard stretched out on a bunk, a vacant smile on his face.
+
+A yell from the basement called him back down to where Izzy was busily going through piles of crates and boxes stacked along one wall. He was pointing to a lead-foil-covered box. "Dope! And all that other stuff's ammunition!"
+
+He shivered, staring at the fortune in his hands. Then he grimaced and shoved the open can back in its case. He threw it back and began stacking ammunition cases in front of the dope. Gordon went out to get the others and start moving in the supplies and transferring the corpses to the truck for disposal. Randolph scurried off to start setting up his makeshift plant in the basement.
+
+Mother Corey was staring about when they returned. "Filthy," he wailed. "A pigpen. They've ruined the Coop, cobber. Smell that air -- even I can smell it!" He sniffed dolefully.
+
+Mother Corey sighed again. "Well, it'll give the boys something to do," he decided. "When a man gets old, he likes a little comfort, cobber. Nice things around him..."
+
+Gordon found what had been his old room and dumped his few things into it. Sheila watched him uncertainly, and then took possession of the next room. She came back a few minutes later, staring at the ages-old filth. "I'll be cleaning for a week," she said. "What are you going to do now, Bruce?"
+
+He shook his head, and started back down the stairs. He hurried down into the basement where Randolph was arranging his mimeograph.
+
+The printer listened only to the first sentence, and shook his head impatiently. "I was afraid you'd think of that, Gordon. Look, you never were a reporter -- you ran a column. I've read the stuff you wrote. You killed and maimed with words. But you never dug up news that would help people, or tell them what they didn't suspect all along. And that's what I've got to have."
+
+"Thanks!" Gordon said curtly. "Too bad Security didn't think I was as lousy a reporter as you do!"
+
+"Okay. I'll give you a job, for one week. See what outer Marsport is like. Find what can be done, if anything, and do it if you can. Then come back and give me six columns on it. I'll pay Mother Corey for your food -- and for your wife's -- and if I can find one column's worth of news in it, maybe I'll give you a second week. I can't see a man's wife starve because he doesn't know how to make an honest living!"
+
+* * * * *
+
+Rusty and one of Mother Corey's men were on guard, and the others had turned in. Gordon went up the stairs and threw himself onto the bed in disgust.
+
+"Bruce!" Sheila stood outlined in the doorway against the dim glow of a phosphor bulb. Her robe was partly open, and hunger burned in him; then, before he could lift himself, she bent over and began unfastening his boots. "You all right, Bruce? I heard you tossing around."
+
+"I'm fine," he told her mechanically. "Just making plans for tomorrow."
+
+He watched her turn back slowly, then lay quietly, trying not to disturb her again. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he'd find some kind of an answer; and it wouldn't be Randolph's charity.
+
+Chapter XV
+
+MURDOCH'S MANTLE
+
+There were three men, each with a white circle painted on chest and left arm, talking to Mother Corey when Bruce Gordon came down the rickety steps. He stopped for a second, but there was no sign of trouble. Then the words of the thin man below reached him.
+
+"So we figured when we found the stiffs maybe you'd come back, Mother. Damn good thing we were right. We can sure use that ammunition you found. Now, where's this Gordon fellow?"
+
+"Here!" Gordon told the man. He'd recognized him finally as Schulberg, the little grocer from the Nineteenth Precinct.
+
+The man swung suspiciously, then grinned weakly. There was hunger and strain on his face, but an odd authority and pride now. "I'll be doggoned. Whyn't you say he was with Murdoch?"
+
+"They want someone to locate Ed Praeger and see about getting some food shipped in from outside, cobber," Mother Corey told him. "They got some money scraped together, but the hicks are doing no business with Marsport. You know Ed -- just tell him I sent you. I'd go myself, but I'm getting too old to go chasing men out there."
+
+"What's in it?" Gordon asked, reaching for his helmet.
+
+There was a surprised exchange of glances from the others, but Mother Corey chuckled. "Heart like a steel trap, cobber," he said, almost approvingly. "Well, you'll be earning your keep here -- yours and that granddaughter's, too. Here -- you'll need directions for finding Praeger."
+
+He handed the paper with his scrawled notes on it over to Gordon and went shuffling back. Gordon stuck it into his pouch, and followed the three. Outside, they had a truck waiting; Rusty and Corey's two henchmen were busy loading it with ammunition from the cellar.
+
+Schulberg motioned him into the cab of the truck, and the other two climbed into the closed rear section. "All right," Gordon said, "what goes on?"
+
+The other began explaining as he picked a way through the ruin and rubble. Murdoch had done better than Gordon had suspected; he'd laid out a program for a citizens' vigilante committee, and had drilled enough in the ruthless use of the club to keep the gangs down. Once the police were all busy inside the dome with their private war, the committee had been the only means of keeping order in the whole territory beyond. It was now extended to cover about half the area, as a voluntary police organization.
+
+He pointed outside. It was changed; there were fewer people outside. Gordon had never seen group starvation before....
+
+They passed a crowd around a crude gallows, and Schulberg stopped. A man was already dead and dangling. "Should turn 'em over to us cops," Schulberg said. "What's he hanged for?"
+
+"Hoarding," a voice answered, and others supplied the few details. The dead man had been caught with a half bag of flour and part of a case of beans. Schulberg found a scrap of something and penciled the crime on it, together with a circle signature, and pinned it to the body.
+
+"All food should be turned in," he explained to Gordon as they climbed back into the truck. "We figure community kitchens can stretch things a bit more. And we give a half extra ration to the guys who can find anything useful to do. We got enough so most people won't starve to death for another week, I guess. But you'd better get Praeger to send something, Gordon. Here, here's the scratch we scraped up."
+
+He passed over a bag filled with a collection of small bills and coins. "We can trust you, I guess," he said dully. "Remember you with Murdoch, anyhow. And you can tell Praeger we got plenty of men looking for work, in case he can use 'em."
+
+He pulled up to shout a report through the big Marspeaker as they passed the old building Murdoch had used as a precinct house. It now had a crude sign proclaiming it voluntary police HQ and outland government center. Then he went on until they came to a spur of the little electric monorail system, with three abandoned service engines parked at the end.
+
+"Extra air inside, and the best we could do for food. Was gonna try myself, but I don't know Praeger," Schulberg said. He handed over a key, and nodded toward the first service engine. "Good luck, Gordon -- and damn it, we're -- we gotta eat, don't we? You tell him that! It ain't much -- but get what you can!"
+
+He swung the truck, and was gone. Gordon climbed into the enclosed cab and pulled back questioningly on the only lever he could see. The engine backed briefly; he reversed the control. Then it moved forward, picking up speed. Apparently there was still power flowing in from the automatic atomic generators.
+
+He got off to puzzle out a switch, using Mother Corey's scrawled instructions.
+
+He had vaguely expected to see more of Mars, but for eight hours there was only the bare flatness and dunes of unending sandy surface and scraggly, useless native plants, opened out to the sun. Marsport had been located where the only vein of uranium had been found on Mars, and the growing section was closer to the equator.
+
+Then he came to villages. Again there was the sight of children running around without helmets. He stopped once for directions, and a man stared at him suspiciously and finally threw a switch reluctantly.
+
+He was finally forced to stop again, sure that he was near, now. This time, it was in what seemed to be a major shipping center in the heart of the lines that ran helter-skelter from village to village. Another suspicious-eyed man studied him. "You won't find Praeger on his farm -- couldn't reach it in that, anyhow," he said finally. Then he turned up his Marspeaker. "Ed! Hey, Ed!"
+
+Down the street, the seal of a building opened, and the big, bluff figure of Praeger came out. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Gordon; then he grinned and waved his visitor forward.
+
+Inside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.
+
+Praeger seemed to read his mind. "I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?"
+
+"Ever see starvation?" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly. "Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?"
+
+"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands."
+
+Gordon sat back weakly. "Done!" he said. "Provided the first shipment carries the most we can get for the credits I brought."
+
+"It will -- we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you have a whole train of it." He took the sack of credits and tossed it toward a drawer, uncounted. "A damned good thing Security's sending a ship. Credits won't be worth much until they get this mess straightened out."
+
+Gordon felt the hair at the base of his neck tingle. "What makes you think Security can do anything? They haven't shown a hand yet."
+
+"They will," Praeger said. "You guys in Marsport feed yourselves so many lies you begin to believe them. But Security took Venus -- and I'm not worried here, in the long run. Don't ask me how."
+
+His voice was a mixture of bitterness and an odd certainty. "They set Security up as a nice little debating society, Gordon, to make it easy for North America to grab the planets by doing it through that Agency. Only they got better men on it than they wanted. So far, Security has played one nation against another enough to keep any from daring to swipe power on the planets. And this latest trick folded up, too. North America figured on Marsport folding up once they got a police war started, with a bunch of chiseling profiteers as their front; they expected the citizens to yell uncle all the way back to Earth. But out here, nobody thinks of Earth as a place to yell to for help, so they missed. And now Security's got Pan-Asia and United Africa balanced against North America, so the swipe won't work. We got the dope from our southern receiver. North America's called it all a mistaken emergency measure and turned it back to Security."
+
+"Along with how many war rockets?" Gordon asked.
+
+"None. They never gave any real power, never will. The only strength Security's ever had comes from the fact that it always wins, somehow. Forget the crooks and crooked cops, man! Ask the people who've been getting kicked around about Security, and you'll find that even most of Marsport doesn't hate it! It's the only hope we've got of not having all the planets turned into colonial empires! You staying over, or want me to give you an engineer and drag car so you can ride back in comfort?"
+
+Gordon stared at the room, where almost everything was a product of the planet, at Praeger, and at the girl. Here was the real Mars -- the men who liked it here, who were sure of their future. "I'll take the drag car."
+
+* * * * *
+
+He found Randolph waiting in a scooter outside the precinct house after he'd reported his results. He climbed in woodenly, leaving his helmet on as he saw the broken window. "A good job," the little man said. "And news for the paper, if I ever publish it again. I came over because I wasn't much use at the Coop, and everyone else was busy."
+
+"Doing what?" Gordon asked.
+
+Randolph grinned crookedly. "Running Outer Marsport. The Mother's the only man everybody knows, I guess -- and his word has never been broken that anyone can remember. So he's helping Schulberg make agreements with the sections the volunteers don't handle. Place is lousy with people now. Heard about Mayor Wayne?"
+
+Gordon shook his head, not caring, but the man went on. "He must have had his supply of drugs lifted somehow. He holed up one day, until it really hit him that he couldn't get any more. Then he went gunning for Trench, with some idea Trench had swiped the stuff -- so Trench is now running the Municipals. And I hear the gangs are just about in control of both sections, lately."
+
+* * * * *
+
+The Chicken Coop was filled, as Randolph had said, but he slipped in and up the stairs, leaving the news to the publisher. The place had been cleaned up more than he had expected, and there must have been new plants installed beside the blower, since the air was somewhat fresher.
+
+He found his own room, and turned in automatically...
+
+"Bruce?" A dim light snapped on, and he stared down at Sheila. Then he blinked. His bunk had been changed to a wider one, and she lay under the thin covering on one side. Down the center, crude stitches of heavy cord showed where she had sewed the blanket to the mattress to divide it into two sections. And in one corner, a couple of blanket sections formed a rough screen.
+
+She caught his stare and reddened slowly. "I had to, Bruce. The Coop is full, and they needed rooms -- and I couldn't tell them that -- that -- "
+
+"Forget it," he told her. He dropped to his own side, with barely enough room to slide between the bed and the wall, and began dragging off his boots and uniform. She started up to help him, then jerked back, and turned her head away. "Forget all you're thinking, Cuddles. I'm still not bothering unwilling women -- and I'll even close my eyes when you dress."
+
+She sighed, and relaxed. There was a faint touch of humor in her voice then. "They called it bundling once, I think. I -- Bruce, I know you don't like me, so I guess it isn't too hard for you. But -- sometimes ... Oh, damn it! Sometimes you're -- nice!"
+
+"Nice people don't get to Mars. They stay on Earth, being careful not to find out what it's like up here," he told her bitterly. For a second he hesitated, and then the account of the newsboy and his would-be killers came rushing out.
+
+She dropped a hand onto his, nodding. "I know. The Kid -- Rusty's friend -- wrote down what they did to him."
+
+Gordon grunted. He'd almost forgotten about the tongueless Kid. For a second, his thoughts churned on. Then he got up and began putting on his uniform again. Sheila frowned, staring at him, and began sliding from her side, reaching for her robe. She followed him down the creaking stairs, and to the room where Schulberg, Mother Corey, and a few others were still arguing some detail.
+
+They looked up, and he moved forward, dragging a badge from his pouch. He slapped it down on the table in front of them. "I'm declaring myself in!" he told them coldly. "You know enough about Security badges to know they can't be forged. That one has my name on it, and rating as a Prime. Do you want to shoot me, or will you follow orders?"
+
+Randolph picked it up, and fumbled in his pocket, drawing out a tiny badge and comparing them. He nodded. "I lost connection years ago, Gordon. But this makes you my boss."
+
+"Then give it all the publicity you can, and tell them Security has just declared war on the whole damned dome section! Mother, I want all the dope we found!" With that -- about the only supply of any size left -- he could command unquestioning loyalty from every addict who hadn't already died from lack of it. Mother Corey nodded, instant understanding running over his puttylike face.
+
+Schulberg shrugged. "After your deal with Praeger, we'd probably follow you anyhow. I don't cotton to Security, Gordon -- but those devils in there are making our kids starve!"
+
+Mother Corey heaved his bulk up slowly, wheezing, and indicated his chair at the head of the table. But Gordon shook his head. He'd made his decision. His head was emptied for the moment, and he wanted nothing more than a chance to hit the bed and forget the whole business until morning.
+
+Sheila was staring at him as he shucked off his outer clothes mechanically and crawled under the blanket. She let the robe fall to the floor and slid into the bed without taking her eyes off him. "Is it true about Security sending a ship?" she asked at last. He nodded, and her breath caught. "What happens when they arrive, Bruce?"
+
+She was shivering. He rolled over and patted her shoulder. "Who knows? Who cares? I'll see that they know you weren't guilty, though. Stop worrying about it."
+
+She threw herself sideways, as far from him as she could get. Her voice was thick, muffled in the blanket. "Damn you, Bruce Gordon. I should have killed you!"
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+GET THE DOME!
+
+To Gordon's surprise, the publicity Randolph wrote about his being a Security Prime seemed to bring the other sections of Outer Marsport under the volunteer police control even faster. But he was too busy to worry about it. He left general co-ordination in the hands of Mother Corey, while Izzy and Schulberg ran the expanding of the police force.
+
+Praeger arrived with the first load of food, and came storming up to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were a Security Prime! I'm grade three myself."
+
+"And I suppose that would have meant you'd have shipped in all the food we needed free?" Gordon asked.
+
+The other stopped to think it over. Then he laughed roughly. "Nope. You're right. The growers would starve next year if they gave it all away now. Well, we'll get in enough food this way to keep you going for a while -- couple of weeks, at least."
+
+It sounded good, and might have worked if there had been the normal food reserve, or if the other three quadrants had been willing to do as much. But while the immediate pressure of starvation was lifted, Gordon's own stomach told him that it wasn't an adequate diet. Signs of scurvy and pellagra were increasing.
+
+Bruce Gordon whipped himself into forgetting some of that. His army was growing. Or rather, his mob. There was no sense in trying to get more than the vaguest organization.
+
+It was the eighth day when he led them out in the early dawn. He had issued extra dope and managed a slight increase in the ration, so they made a brave showing -- until they reached the dome.
+
+There were no rifles opposed to him, as he had expected, and the guard at the gate was no heavier. But the warning had somehow been given, and both forces were ready.
+
+Stretching north from the gate were the Municipals with members of some of the gangs; the other gangmen were with the Legals to the south. And they stood within inches of the dome, holding axes and knives.
+
+A big Marspeaker ran out from the gate, and the voice of Gannett came over it. "Go back! If just one of you gets within ten feet of the dome or entrance, we're going to rip the dome! We'll destroy Marsport before we'll give in to a doped-up crowd of riffraff! You've got five minutes to get out of sight, before we come out with rifles and knock you off! Now beat it!"
+
+Gordon got out of the car the Kid was driving and started toward the entrance, just as the moaning wail of the crowd behind him built up.
+
+"You fools!" he yelled. "They're bluffing. They wouldn't dare destroy the dome! Come on!"
+
+But already the men were evaporating. He stared at the rout, and suddenly stopped fighting the hands holding him. Beside him, the Kid was crying, making horrible sounds of it. He turned slowly back to the car, and felt it get under way. His final sight was that of the Legals and Municipals wildly scrambling for cover from each other.
+
+Mother Corey met him, dragging him back to a small room where he dug up an impossibly precious bottle of brandy. "Drink it all, cobber. So one of your Security badges had the wrong man attached to it, and word got back. Couldn't be helped. You just ran into the sacred law of Marsport -- the one they teach kids. Be bad, and the dome'll collapse. The dome made Marsport, and it's taboo!"
+
+Gordon nodded. Maybe the old man was right. "If the dome gives them a perfect cover, why let me make a jackass of myself, Mother?" he asked numbly.
+
+Corey shook his head, setting the heavy folds of flesh to bouncing. "Gave them something to live for here, cobber. And when you get over this, you're gonna announce new plans to try again. Yes, you are! But right now, you get yourself drunk!"
+
+He left Gordon and the bottle. After a while, the bottle was gone. He felt number, but no better, by the time Izzy came in.
+
+"Trench is outside in a heavy-armored car, Bruce. Says he wants to see you. Something to discuss -- a proposition!"
+
+Gordon stood up, wobbling a little, trying to think. Then he swore, and headed for his room. "Tell him to go to hell!"
+
+He saw Izzy and Sheila leave, wondering vaguely where she had been. Through the opening in the seal, he spotted them moving toward the big car outside. Then he shrugged. He finally made the stairs and reached his bed before he passed out.
+
+Sheila was standing over him when he finally woke. She dumped a headache powder into her palm and held it out, handing him a small glass of water. He swallowed the fast-acting drug, and sat up, trying to remember. Then he wished he couldn't.
+
+"What did Trench want?" he asked thickly.
+
+"He wanted to show you a badge -- a Security badge made out for him," she answered. "At least he said he wanted to show you something, and it was about that size. He wouldn't talk with us much. But I remember his name in the book -- "
+
+Gordon shook his head and sat up. The book, he thought, trying to focus his thoughts. The book with all the names...
+
+"All right, Cuddles," he said finally. "You got your meal ticket, and you've outgrown it in this mess. Now I want that damned book! I've been operating in the dark. It's time I found out how to get in touch with some of those people. Where is it?"
+
+She shook her head. "It isn't. Bruce -- I don't have it. That time I gave you the note, you didn't come when I said, and I thought you wouldn't. Then Jurgens' men broke in, and I thought they'd get it, so -- so I burned it. I lied to you about using it to make you keep me."
+
+"You burned it!" He turned it over, staring at her. "Okay, Cuddles, you burned it. You were trying to kill me then, so you burned it to keep Jurgens from getting it and putting the finger on me! Where is it, Sheila? On you?"
+
+She backed away, biting her lips. "No, Bruce. I burned it. I don't know why. I just did! No!"
+
+She turned toward the door as he pushed up from the bed, but his arm caught her wrist, dragging her back. She whimpered once, then shrieked faintly as his hand caught the buttons on the dress, jerking them off. Then suddenly she was a writhing, biting, scratching fury. He tightened his hand and lifted her to the bed, dropping a knee onto her throat and beginning to squeeze, while he jerked the dress and thin slip off.
+
+She sat up as he released his knee, her hoarse voice squeezed from between her writhing lips. "Are you satisfied now, you mechanical beast! Do you still think I have it on me?"
+
+He grinned, twisting the corners of his mouth. "You don't. Don't you know a wife shouldn't keep secrets from her husband? A warm-blooded, affectionate husband, to boot." He bent down, knocking aside her flailing arms, and pulled her closer to him. "Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!"
+
+She cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers.
+
+From somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress. She was making no sound, and there was no resistance, but the tears ran out, one drop seeming to trip over another.
+
+"All right, Sheila," he said. His voice was cracked in his ears. "Another week of being a failure on this planet of failures, and I might. Go ahead and tell me I'm the same as your first husband. If I can't even keep my word to you, I can at least get out and stay out." He shook his head, waiting for her denunciation. "For your amusement, I'm going to miss having you around!"
+
+He stood up. Something touched his hand, and he looked down to see her fingers.
+
+"Bruce," she said faintly, "you meant it! You don't hate me any more." She rubbed her wrist across her eyes, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I don't think you're a failure. And maybe -- maybe I'm not. Maybe I don't have to be a failure as a woman -- a wife, Bruce. I don't want you to go!"
+
+* * * * *
+
+Two worlds. One huddled under its dome, forever afraid of losing that protection and having to face the life the other led; and yet driven to work together or to perish together. The sacred dome!
+
+And suddenly he was shaking her. "The dome! It has to be the answer! Cuddles, you broke the chain enough for me to think again! We've been blind -- the whole damned planet has been blind."
+
+She blinked and then frowned. "Bruce -- "
+
+"I'm all right! I'm just half sane instead of all insane for a change." He got up, pacing the floor as he talked.
+
+"Look, most of the people here are Martians. They've left Earth behind, and they're meeting this planet on its own terms. And they're adapting. Third-generation children -- not all, but a lot of them -- are breathing the air we'd die on, and they're doing fine at it. Probably second-generation ones can keep going after we'd pass out. It's just as true out here as it is on the frontier. But Marsport has that sacred dome over it. It's still trying to be Earth. And it can't do it. It's never had a chance to adjust here, and it's afraid to try."
+
+"Maybe," she agreed doubtfully. "But what about this part of Marsport?"
+
+"Obvious. Here, they grow up under the shadow of it. They live in a half-world, and they have to live on the crumbs the dome tosses them. Sheila, if something happened to that dome -- "
+
+"We'd be killed," she said. "How do we do it?"
+
+He frowned, and then grinned slowly. "Maybe not!"
+
+They spent the rest of the night discussing it. Sometime during the discussion, she made coffee, and first Randolph, then the Kid came in for briefing. Randolph was a natural addition, and the Kid had been alternately following Gordon and Sheila around since he'd first heard they were fighting against the men who'd robbed him of his right to speak. In the end, as the night spread into day, there were more people than they felt safe with, and less than they needed.
+
+But later, as he stood beside the dome when night had fallen again, Gordon wasn't so sure. It was huge. The fabric of it was thin, and even the webbing straps that gave it added strength were frail things. But it was strong enough to hold up the pressure of over ten pounds per square inch, and the webbing was anchored in a metal sleeve that went too high for cutting. They could rip it, but not ruin it completely; and it had to be done so that no repair could ever be made.
+
+Under it, and anchoring it, was a concrete wall all around the city.
+
+Izzy came back from a careful exploration. "We can work enough powder under those webbing supports, and lay the fuse wire beside the plastic ring that keeps it airtight," he reported. "But God help us, gov'nor, if any gee spots us."
+
+They worked through the night, while Rusty went back to requisition more explosives from the dwindling supply, and while the Kid and Izzy took time off to break into a closed converter plant and find wire enough to connect the charges. But dawn caught them with less done than they had hoped. Gordon went to connect a wire and switch from the battery and coil they had installed, but jerked backwards as he saw a suspicious guard staring at him.
+
+"Let him think we're just scouting," Randolph advised.
+
+There were suspicious looks as the group came back to the Coop, but Mother Corey waddled over to meet them. "Did you find them, cobber?" he asked quickly, and one of his eyelids flickered.
+
+Izzy answered before Gordon could rise to it. "Not yet, Mother. May have to go back tonight."
+
+Gordon left them discussing the mythical search for certain supplies that Mother Corey had apparently used as an alibi for their absence from the building. Sheila started to make coffee, but he shook his head and headed for the bed. She yawned and nodded, fingering the stitches that still ran down the blanket to divide it. Then she grimaced faintly and dropped down beside him on top of the blanket. Her head hit his arm, and she seemed to be asleep almost at once.
+
+He awoke to find Izzy shaking his shoulder. He looked down for Sheila, but she was gone. Izzy followed his eyes, and shook his head.
+
+"The princess took off in a car three hours ago," he said. "She said it was something that had to be done, gov'nor, so I figured you'd know about it."
+
+Gordon shrugged, and let it pass. He found the rest of the group ready, with Mother Corey wishing them better luck tonight. The Mother obviously knew something; but he kept his suspicions to himself, and gave them a cover from the others.
+
+There was no sign of Sheila near the dome. But inside, there were guards pacing along it. Gordon spotted them first, and drew the others back. If they'd found the carefully worked-in powder...
+
+The Kid ducked down and out of the car, worming his way around the building that concealed them. He waited for the guard to vanish, and then went crawling forward. Gordon swore, but there was no sense in two of them risking themselves, only to attract more attention. And at last the Kid came back. He ducked into the truck, nodding.
+
+"Wire and explosive still there?" Gordon asked.
+
+The Kid made the sound he used for assent.
+
+It made no sense; there was no reason for the sudden vigilance inside the dome.
+
+"We might be able to run the wire in," Izzy said doubtfully.
+
+Gordon grunted. "And tip them off to where it is, probably. No, we'll have to do it under some kind of covering, the way I had it planned in the first place, only with one more damned complication. We'll pull another false raid on the dome. As soon as we get chased off, I'll manage to set it off while they're relaxing and laughing at us."
+
+"It smells!" Izzy told him. "Who elected you chief martyr around here? You'll be blown up, gov'nor -- and if you ain't, they'll rip you to ribbons for knocking off the dome."
+
+Then he stopped suddenly, staring. Bruce Gordon leaned forward, with Izzy's hands grabbing for him. But he'd seen it, too.
+
+Standing next to the dome was Trench, talking to one of the guards. And beside him stood Sheila, with one hand resting on the man's elbow!
+
+He could feel the thickness of the silence and misery in the truck, but he pushed it away, with all the other things. "Get us back, Izzy," he ordered. "We've got to round up whatever group we can and get them back here on the double. They must be counting on our original time, so they're in no hurry to remove the powder and wiring. But we can't count on any more time."
+
+"You're going through with it?" Randolph asked doubtfully.
+
+"In one hour. And you might pass the word along that we're doing it to save the dome. Tell the men we just found out that Trench is losing and intends to blow it up instead of letting the Legals win."
+
+Rumor would travel fast enough, he hoped. And it should give him a few extra seconds before his forces cracked.
+
+He lifted the switch in his hands and stared at it. It wasn't necessary now. All he had to do was to reach the battery and drop any metal across the two terminals there -- if they could get back before Trench -- and Sheila -- could remove the battery.
+
+It was a period of complete fog to him, but it wasn't until his motley army reached the dome, straggling up in trucks and on foot, that he snapped into focus again. There was no sign of Sheila this time, and he didn't look for her. His whole mind was concentrated down to a single point: Get the dome!
+
+This time, there was no scattering of Municipals and Legals. The Municipal forces were rushing up toward the dome, and surprised Legals were frantically arriving in trucks. There was the beginning of a pitched battle right at the spot where Gordon needed his own cover.
+
+It made no sense to him, and he didn't care. He marched his men up, with the thin wailing of a banshee in his ears.
+
+"Dome warning!" Izzy shouted in his ear. "Hear that siren, gov'nor? Means they're scared we may do it. Give me that damned switch!"
+
+He grabbed for it, but Gordon held firmly to the copper strap. And now the men inside caught sight of the approaching force. For a second, consternation seemed to reign.
+
+Then a huge truck with a speaker on top drove into the struggling group, and the thin whisper of unintelligible words reached Gordon. The whole development made no more sense than any part of it to him, but he saw the Municipals and Legals suddenly begin to turn as a single man to face the outside menace that had crept up on them while they were boiling into a fight.
+
+And suddenly the Marspeaker over the entrance blasted into life. "Get back! The dome is mined! Any man comes near it, it'll blow! Get back! The dome is mined!"
+
+By Gordon's side, a sudden gargling sound came from the Kid. His hand snaked out, caught the strap from Gordon's hand, and jerked it free. Then he was running frantically forward.
+
+Rifles lifted inside, and shots rang out, clipping bullets through the dome. In one place it began to tear, and there was a sudden savage roar from the men around Gordon. He had started forward after the Kid, but Izzy was in front of him, holding him back.
+
+The Kid stumbled and slid across the ground, while blood spurted out from a gash across his head, and the helmet fell into pieces. Then, with a jerk, he was up. His hand reached out, the strap hit the terminals...
+
+And where the dome had been, a clap of thunder seemed to take visible form. The webbing straps broke, and the dome jerked upwards, twisting outwards, and then falling into ribbons. The shock wave hit Gordon, knocking him from his feet into the crowd around him.
+
+He struggled to his feet to see helmeted men pouring out of the houses around, and other men pouring forward from his own group. The few of either police force still standing and helmeted broke into a wild run, but they had no chance! The mob had decided that they had mined and exploded the dome.
+
+He turned back toward the Coop, sick with the death of the Kid and the violence. For once, he'd had more than his fill of it.
+
+Then a small truck drew up, and an arm went out to draw him inside the cab. He stared into the face of Isaiah Trench. And driving the truck was Sheila.
+
+"Your wife took a helluva chance, Gordon," Trench said heavily. "And I took quite a chance, too, to set this up so nobody could ever believe you were behind it. Getting that fight started in time, after you first showed up -- oh, sure, we spotted you -- was the toughest job I ever did! But I guess Sheila had the roughest end, not even knowing for sure where I stood."
+
+Gordon stared at them slowly, not quite believing it, even though it was no crazier than anything else during the past few hours.
+
+Trench shrugged. "I was railroaded here by Security, told to be good and they'd let me go home. A lot of men got that treatment. So when Wayne was still talking about building a perfect Marsport, I joined up. He treated me right, and I took orders. But a man gets sick of working with punks and cheap hoods; he gets sicker of killing off a planet he's learned to like. I learned to take orders, though -- and I took them until Wayne tried to put a bullet through me. That ended that, and I came out to join up with you. You were soused, I hear -- but your wife guessed enough to take the chance of coming to me, when she thought you were going to get yourself killed. Well, I guess you get out here."
+
+He indicated the Coop. Gordon got down, followed by Sheila as Trench took the wheel. "What happens to you now?" Gordon asked. "They'll be blaming you for the end of the dome."
+
+"Let them. I planned on that. Too bad Trench got torn to bits by the mob, isn't it? And it's a good thing I've always kept myself a place under a safe incognito out in the sticks. Got a wife and two kids out there that even Wayne didn't know about." He stuck out a hand. "You're like Security, Gordon. You do all the wrong things, but you get the right results. Goodbye!"
+
+Sheila watched him go, shaking her head. "He likes you, Bruce. But he can't say it. Men!"
+
+"Women!" Gordon answered.
+
+Then he stiffened. Coming down through the thin air of Mars was the bright blue exhaust of a rocket. The real Security was arriving!
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+SECURITY PAYOFF
+
+It was three days before Bruce Gordon made up his mind to hunt up Security; another four days passed after they had sent him back to wait until they received orders from Headquarters for him. There was a man coming from Earth on a second ship who would see him. They gave him a chauffeur back to the Chicken Coop, and politely indicated that it would be better if he stayed within reach.
+
+The dome had been down a full week when he watched the last of Randolph's equipment packed onto a truck and hauled away. The little publisher was back at the Crusader again. Rusty was busy opening his bar, and the others were all busy. Only Gordon and Sheila were left.
+
+He heard her coming down the old stairs, and ducked out through the private exit, snapping his helmet in place as he went through the seal. She must have sensed his desire to be left alone, since she made no attempt to follow. She'd asked no questions and hadn't even tried to convince him that he'd be sent back to Earth now.
+
+He muttered to himself as he headed over the rubble toward the previously domed section.
+
+Out at the spaceport, ships were dropping down from Deimos with the supplies that had been held up so long, and a long line of trucks went snaking by. Credit had been established again, and the businesses were open.
+
+For the time being, the hoods and punks were having a tough time of it, with working papers demanded as constant identification. And while it lasted, at least, Marsport was beginning to have its face lifted. Wrecks were being broken up, with salvageable material used for newer homes. Gordon came to a row of temporary bubbles, individual dwellings built like the dome, but opaque for privacy.
+
+As Gordon drew closer to the old foundation of the dome, the feeling around began to clarify into something halfway between what he had seen on the real frontier and what he had known as a kid in Earth's slums.
+
+They had been lucky. The dome had exploded outwards, with only bits of it falling back; and the buildings had come through the outward explosion of the pressure with little damage. Gordon grinned wryly. Schulberg's volunteers were official, now. Izzy was acting as chief of police, Schulberg was head of the reconstruction corps, and Mother Corey was temporary Mayor of all Marsport. The old charter for Marsport from North America was dead, and the whole city was now under Security charter, like the rest of the planet. But the dozen Security men had left most of the control in the Mother's hands, and the old man was up to his fat jowls in business.
+
+Gordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place was still open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon dropped to a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for the glass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.
+
+"On the house, copper," Fats' voice said. The man dropped to another stool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. "And bring out a steak, there! You look as if you could stand it -- and Fats don't forget old friends!"
+
+"Friends and other things," Gordon said, remembering his first visit here. "Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats."
+
+The other shrugged. "That's Mars." He rolled the dice out, then picked them up again. "Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly -- for a while, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got banged up trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be in the chips!"
+
+"That's Mars," Gordon echoed the other's comment. "Why don't you pull off the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess."
+
+The other nodded. "Yeah. I went back, about ten years ago. Spent four weeks down there. I dunno. Guess a man gets used to anything ... Hell, maybe I can hire some bums to sit around and whoop it up when the ships come in, and bill this as a real old Martian den of sin! Get a barker out at the port, run special busses, charge the suckers a mint for a cheap thrill."
+
+Gordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.
+
+He finished the meal, accepted a pack of the Earth cigarettes that sold at a luxury price here, and went out into the thin air of Mars. It was almost good to get out into the filth of the slums, and be heading back to the still-standing monument of the old Chicken Coop. He headed for the private entrance out of habit, and then shrugged as he realized it was a needless precaution now. He moved up the front steps and through the battered seal.
+
+Then he stopped. Security had finally gotten around to him, it seemed. Inside the hallway, the Security man who'd first sent him to Mars was waiting.
+
+There was a grin on the other's face. "Hello, Gordon. Finally got our orders for you. It's Mercury!"
+
+Bruce Gordon nodded slowly. "All right. I suppose you know I ruined the dome, was supposed to have killed Murdoch, pretended I was a Security agent..."
+
+"You were one," the man said. He grinned again. "We know about Murdoch, and we know where Trench is -- but he's a good citizen now, so he can stay there. We're not throwing the book at you, Bruce. Damn it, we sent you here to get results, and you got them. We sent twenty others the same way -- and they failed. You were a bit drastic -- that I have to admit -- but we're one step closer to keeping nationalism off the planets, and that's all we care about."
+
+"I wonder if it's worth it," Gordon said slowly.
+
+The other shook his head. "We can't know in our lifetime. All we can do is to hope. We'll probably get this Mother Corey and Isaacs elected properly; and for a while, things will improve. But there'll be pushers as long as weak men turn to drugs, and graft as long as voters allow the thing to get out of their hands. Let's say you've shifted some of the misery around a bit, and given them a chance to do better. It's up to them to take it or lose it."
+
+"So I get sent to Mercury?"
+
+"You can't stay here. They'll find out too much eventually." He paused, estimating Gordon. "You can go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won't like it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing on Mercury -- worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, if you'll go. With a yellow ticket, again -- but without any razzle-dazzle this time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight for a better chance for others some day -- and a promise that there'll be more, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fight against every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There's a rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercury right now."
+
+Gordon sighed. "All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometime that -- well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck with men."
+
+"She already knows," the Security man said. "I've been waiting for you quite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from the time you began using your badge. She's out shopping!"
+
+The car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped him up the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordon stopped as great arms surrounded him.
+
+Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyes were glinting. "Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off, cobber?" he asked. "And after I took a bath to celebrate? I -- I -- Oh, drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him."
+
+He grabbed Gordon's hand and waddled down the landing plank. Izzy shook his head.
+
+"I can't say it, either, gov'nor -- but some day, I'm going to have one of those badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if it kills you. Here!"
+
+He followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and a brand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon had first used.
+
+Gordon dropped into his seat, while the sounds outside indicated take-off time. He had less than a hundred credits, a knife, a deck of phony cards, and a yellow ticket. Mars was leaving him what he'd brought....
+
+She dropped into the seat very quietly, but her blouse touched his arm. In her hand was a punched ticket with the orange of Mars on top and the black of Mercury on the bottom.
+
+"Hello, Bruce," Sheila said softly. "I've been shopping and I spent the money the man gave me. This is all I have left. Do you think it's worth it? Or should I take it back?"
+
+He turned it over in his hands slowly, and the smile came back to his face gradually.
+
+"You got a bargain, Cuddles," he said. "A lot better than the meal ticket you bought. Let's keep it."
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/benchmark/7585/metadata.json b/benchmark/7585/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..94bc288155886f55e165ea33783162fc2c5aeb29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/benchmark/7585/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "7585", "title": "Police Your Planet", "description": "Bruce Gordon looked at his ticket, grimaced at the ONE WAY stamped on it, then tore it into bits and let the pieces scatter over the floor. He counted them as they fell; thirty pieces in all, one for each year of his life. Little ones for the two years he'd wasted as a cop. Shreds for the four years as a kid in the ring before that--he'd never made the top. Bigger bits for two years also wasted in trying his hand at professional gambling; and the six final pieces that spelled his rise from special reporter helping out with a police shake-up coverage, through a regular leg-man turning up rackets, and on up like a meteor until.... He'd made his big scoop, all right. He'd dug up enough about the Mercury scandals to double circulation. And the government had explained what a fool he'd been for printing half of a story that was never supposed to be printed until all could be revealed. They'd given Bruce Gordon his final assignment... (Summary by Christian Alexander and Excerpt of Chapter 1)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20212", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1956", "num_sections": "17", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/7585", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/police_your_planet_ca_librivox/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/police-your-planet-by-lester-del-rey/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "5:06:00", "totaltimesecs": 18360, "authors": [{"id": "681", "first_name": "Lester del", "last_name": "Rey", "dob": "1915", "dod": "1993"}], "genre": ["Science Fiction"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["policeyourplanet_01_delray", "policeyourplanet_02_delray", "policeyourplanet_03_delray", "policeyourplanet_04_delray", "policeyourplanet_05_delray", "policeyourplanet_06_delray", "policeyourplanet_07_delray", "policeyourplanet_08_delray", "policeyourplanet_09_delray", "policeyourplanet_10_delray", "policeyourplanet_11_delray", "policeyourplanet_12_delray", "policeyourplanet_13_delray", "policeyourplanet_14_delray", "policeyourplanet_15_delray", "policeyourplanet_16_delray", "policeyourplanet_17_delray"], "readers": [["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"], ["8131"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json b/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b71a09f92551e6859038e003142684fc9d76c4c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_06_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cOh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you\u2019re chilled through.\u201d", "start_byte": 86777, "end_byte": 87126, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 89.04000091552734, "end_time": 106.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 89.46500091552734, "cut_end_time": 106.40000091552734, "narrative_prediction": {"stood": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven\u2019t spoken a word.\u201d", "start_byte": 87305, "end_byte": 87384, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 115.63999938964844, "end_time": 119.83999633789062, "cut_start_time": 115.93499938964842, "cut_end_time": 119.35006188964843, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.\u201d", "start_byte": 87386, "end_byte": 87487, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 119.83999633789062, "end_time": 125.76000213623047, "cut_start_time": 120.31499633789062, "cut_end_time": 125.27012133789061, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cThere\u2019s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?\u201d", "start_byte": 87589, "end_byte": 87644, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 131.8000030517578, "end_time": 135.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 132.1850030517578, "cut_end_time": 134.5600030517578, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.\u201d", "start_byte": 87680, "end_byte": 87738, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 137.8800048828125, "end_time": 141.52000427246094, "cut_start_time": 138.1850048828125, "cut_end_time": 140.9400673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"bent": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhat about us, Bartley?", "start_byte": 87875, "end_byte": 87899, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 149.9199981689453, "end_time": 151.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 150.4849981689453, "cut_end_time": 151.8701231689453, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "thin": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cEverything!\u201d", "start_byte": 88169, "end_byte": 88182, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 168.1199951171875, "end_time": 169.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 168.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 168.7500576171875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI\u2019ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,", "start_byte": 88438, "end_byte": 88480, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 184.16000366210938, "end_time": 186.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 184.80500366210936, "cut_end_time": 186.66000366210938, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "tremulously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t stand seeing you miserable.\u201d", "start_byte": 88504, "end_byte": 88541, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 187.8800048828125, "end_time": 190.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 188.1350048828125, "cut_end_time": 189.9100048828125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "tremulously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t live with myself any longer,", "start_byte": 88543, "end_byte": 88580, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 190.55999755859375, "end_time": 192.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 191.25499755859374, "cut_end_time": 192.98012255859373, "narrative_prediction": {"answered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "roughly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cIt . . . it hasn\u2019t always made you miserable, has it?", "start_byte": 88882, "end_byte": 88936, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 210.32000732421875, "end_time": 213.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 210.53500732421875, "cut_end_time": 213.22006982421874, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAlways. But it\u2019s worse now. It\u2019s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.\u201d", "start_byte": 88979, "end_byte": 89054, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 216.0800018310547, "end_time": 221.47999572753906, "cut_start_time": 216.2350018310547, "cut_end_time": 221.22000183105467, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cBut why now?", "start_byte": 89056, "end_byte": 89069, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 221.47999572753906, "end_time": 222.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 221.78499572753907, "cut_end_time": 222.74005822753907, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI am not a man who can live two lives,", "start_byte": 89138, "end_byte": 89177, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 226.63999938964844, "end_time": 228.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 226.92499938964843, "cut_end_time": 228.88012438964844, "narrative_prediction": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "feverishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cEach life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can\u2019t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.\u201d", "start_byte": 89202, "end_byte": 89401, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 230.24000549316406, "end_time": 242.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 230.40500549316405, "cut_end_time": 242.24006799316405, "narrative_prediction": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "feverishly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cdeception,", "start_byte": 89416, "end_byte": 89427, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 243.67999267578125, "end_time": 244.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 243.71499267578125, "cut_end_time": 244.34011767578124, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cCould you \u2014 could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?\u201d", "start_byte": 89646, "end_byte": 89776, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 256.9599914550781, "end_time": 264.1600036621094, "cut_start_time": 257.1549914550782, "cut_end_time": 263.70011645507816, "narrative_prediction": {"spoken": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "self-contempt": {"id": "0", "type": "noun", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cIt was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.\u201d", "start_byte": 89830, "end_byte": 89912, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 267.5199890136719, "end_time": 273.4800109863281, "cut_start_time": 267.9949890136719, "cut_end_time": 273.2101140136719, "narrative_prediction": {"dropped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhen did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?\u201d", "start_byte": 90087, "end_byte": 90141, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 284.8800048828125, "end_time": 288.1600036621094, "cut_start_time": 285.3050048828125, "cut_end_time": 287.48006738281254, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAfter the very first. The first was \u2014 sort of in play, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d", "start_byte": 90143, "end_byte": 90210, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 288.1600036621094, "end_time": 294.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 288.5650036621094, "cut_end_time": 293.2200661621094, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I think it must have been. But why didn\u2019t you tell me when you were here in the summer?\u201d", "start_byte": 90254, "end_byte": 90348, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 296.3999938964844, "end_time": 302.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 296.5749938964844, "cut_end_time": 301.6301188964844, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI meant to, but somehow I couldn\u2019t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.\u201d", "start_byte": 90369, "end_byte": 90484, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 303.79998779296875, "end_time": 310.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 303.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 310.1001127929688, "narrative_prediction": {"groaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I was happy, wasn\u2019t I?", "start_byte": 90486, "end_byte": 90514, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 310.44000244140625, "end_time": 312.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 310.87500244140625, "cut_end_time": 312.3900024414063, "narrative_prediction": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWeren\u2019t you happy then, at all?\u201d", "start_byte": 90558, "end_byte": 90591, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 314.9599914550781, "end_time": 317.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 315.2749914550781, "cut_end_time": 316.82011645507816, "narrative_prediction": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .\u201d", "start_byte": 90799, "end_byte": 90846, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 329.44000244140625, "end_time": 333.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 329.79500244140627, "cut_end_time": 333.0400024414063, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, yes,", "start_byte": 90848, "end_byte": 90858, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 333.3599853515625, "end_time": 334.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 333.7749853515625, "cut_end_time": 334.5000478515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cPlease tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.\u201d", "start_byte": 90956, "end_byte": 91061, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 339.6400146484375, "end_time": 346.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 340.0150146484375, "cut_end_time": 345.48001464843753, "narrative_prediction": {"hurried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "pulling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, Hilda; I know that,", "start_byte": 91135, "end_byte": 91160, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 349.9200134277344, "end_time": 351.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 350.0850134277344, "cut_end_time": 351.3800134277344, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "simply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful \u2014 to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.\u201d", "start_byte": 91237, "end_byte": 91615, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 356.0400085449219, "end_time": 378.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 356.4650085449219, "cut_end_time": 378.1100710449219, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn\u2019t know. You\u2019ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I\u2019ve not done, or what must I not do?", "start_byte": 91782, "end_byte": 91923, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 388.3999938964844, "end_time": 398.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 388.8649938964844, "cut_end_time": 398.5301188964844, "narrative_prediction": {"listened": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "intently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou want me to say it?", "start_byte": 92001, "end_byte": 92024, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 403.9200134277344, "end_time": 405.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 404.6550134277344, "cut_end_time": 405.7800134277344, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.\u201d", "start_byte": 92041, "end_byte": 92166, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 406.79998779296875, "end_time": 414.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 407.2649877929688, "cut_end_time": 414.3401127929688, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI can\u2019t,", "start_byte": 92168, "end_byte": 92177, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 414.7200012207031, "end_time": 415.6000061035156, "cut_start_time": 415.14500122070314, "cut_end_time": 415.70006372070316, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can\u2019t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.\u201d", "start_byte": 92293, "end_byte": 92484, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 422.9599914550781, "end_time": 435.0, "cut_start_time": 423.25499145507814, "cut_end_time": 434.70005395507815, "narrative_prediction": {"spoke": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "through": {"id": "1", "type": "preposition", "confidence": 0}, "teeth": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 0}}}, {"text": "\u201cNo!", "start_byte": 92589, "end_byte": 92593, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 440.32000732421875, "end_time": 440.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 440.4050073242188, "cut_end_time": 440.82006982421876, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s too late to ask that. Do you hear me, Bartley? It\u2019s too late. I won\u2019t promise. It\u2019s abominable of you to ask me. Keep away if you wish; when have I ever followed you? But, if you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. The shamefulness of your asking me to do that! If you come to me, I\u2019ll do as I see fit. Do you understand? Bartley, you\u2019re cowardly!\u201d", "start_byte": 92607, "end_byte": 92959, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 441.5199890136719, "end_time": 463.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 441.7849890136719, "cut_end_time": 462.9401140136719, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I know I\u2019m cowardly. I\u2019m afraid of myself. I don\u2019t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don\u2019t dare trifle with it. It\u2019s getting the better of me. It\u2019s different now. I\u2019m growing older, and you\u2019ve got my young self here with you. It\u2019s through him that I\u2019ve come to wish for you all and all the time.", "start_byte": 93003, "end_byte": 93345, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 465.8399963378906, "end_time": 486.0, "cut_start_time": 466.00499633789065, "cut_end_time": 485.8000588378907, "narrative_prediction": {"rose": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "angrily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cDo you know what I mean?\u201d", "start_byte": 93380, "end_byte": 93406, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 487.44000244140625, "end_time": 489.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 487.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 488.56000244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"took": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "roughly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn\u2019t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I\u2019ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say \u2014 but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!\u201d", "start_byte": 93469, "end_byte": 93723, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 492.2799987792969, "end_time": 509.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 492.5249987792969, "cut_end_time": 508.6100612792969, "narrative_prediction": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "cry": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "bitterly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cJust something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful \u2014 can I never make you understand what that means to me?", "start_byte": 93851, "end_byte": 94114, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 516.47998046875, "end_time": 532.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 516.70498046875, "cut_end_time": 532.49010546875, "narrative_prediction": {"pressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I\u2019d met you later, if I hadn\u2019t loved you so well \u2014 but that\u2019s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding \u2014 hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.\u201d", "start_byte": 94150, "end_byte": 94541, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 535.3200073242188, "end_time": 562.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 535.5950073242187, "cut_end_time": 562.2500073242188, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t cry, don\u2019t cry,", "start_byte": 94712, "end_byte": 94734, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 574.5599975585938, "end_time": 575.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 574.6249975585938, "cut_end_time": 576.0200600585938, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWe\u2019ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.\u201d", "start_byte": 94750, "end_byte": 94838, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 576.8800048828125, "end_time": 582.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 577.2050048828125, "cut_end_time": 581.6700048828126, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI think I have forgotten everything but that already,", "start_byte": 94840, "end_byte": 94894, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 582.47998046875, "end_time": 585.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 583.12498046875, "cut_end_time": 585.82004296875, "narrative_prediction": {"murmured": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.", "start_byte": 87128, "end_byte": 87303, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 106.63999938964844, "end_time": 115.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 107.04499938964844, "cut_end_time": 115.46006188964843}, {"text": "Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.", "start_byte": 87489, "end_byte": 87587, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 125.76000213623047, "end_time": 131.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 126.21500213623047, "cut_end_time": 131.41006463623046}, {"text": "Bartley bent lower over the fire.", "start_byte": 87646, "end_byte": 87679, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 135.67999267578125, "end_time": 137.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 136.04499267578123, "cut_end_time": 137.80011767578125}, {"text": "Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.", "start_byte": 87740, "end_byte": 87873, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 141.52000427246094, "end_time": 149.9199981689453, "cut_start_time": 141.82500427246094, "cut_end_time": 149.33000427246094}, {"text": " she asked in a thin voice.", "start_byte": 87900, "end_byte": 87927, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 151.8800048828125, "end_time": 153.83999633789062, "cut_start_time": 151.9350048828125, "cut_end_time": 153.3600048828125}, {"text": "He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: \u2014 ", "start_byte": 87929, "end_byte": 88167, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 153.83999633789062, "end_time": 168.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 154.22499633789062, "cut_end_time": 168.22005883789063}, {"text": "Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.", "start_byte": 88184, "end_byte": 88436, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 169.67999267578125, "end_time": 184.16000366210938, "cut_start_time": 169.95499267578126, "cut_end_time": 183.45011767578126}, {"text": " she said tremulously.", "start_byte": 88481, "end_byte": 88503, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 186.55999755859375, "end_time": 187.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 186.53499755859374, "cut_end_time": 187.70012255859373}, {"text": " he answered roughly.", "start_byte": 88581, "end_byte": 88602, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 192.8800048828125, "end_time": 194.0800018310547, "cut_start_time": 192.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 193.8400673828125}, {"text": "He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.", "start_byte": 88604, "end_byte": 88773, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 194.0800018310547, "end_time": 203.75999450683594, "cut_start_time": 194.34500183105467, "cut_end_time": 203.1700018310547}, {"text": "Hilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.", "start_byte": 88775, "end_byte": 88880, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 203.75999450683594, "end_time": 210.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 203.99499450683592, "cut_end_time": 209.50011950683594}, {"text": " Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.", "start_byte": 88937, "end_byte": 88977, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 213.36000061035156, "end_time": 216.0800018310547, "cut_start_time": 213.59500061035155, "cut_end_time": 215.54006311035155}, {"text": " she asked piteously, wringing her hands.", "start_byte": 89070, "end_byte": 89111, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 222.63999938964844, "end_time": 225.24000549316406, "cut_start_time": 222.61499938964843, "cut_end_time": 225.12012438964842}, {"text": "He ignored her question.", "start_byte": 89113, "end_byte": 89137, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 225.24000549316406, "end_time": 226.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 225.50500549316405, "cut_end_time": 226.57000549316405}, {"text": " he went on feverishly.", "start_byte": 89178, "end_byte": 89201, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 228.8000030517578, "end_time": 230.24000549316406, "cut_start_time": 228.8050030517578, "cut_end_time": 230.0200655517578}, {"text": "At that word", "start_byte": 89403, "end_byte": 89415, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 242.8000030517578, "end_time": 243.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 243.2150030517578, "cut_end_time": 243.7700030517578}, {"text": " spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda\u2019s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.", "start_byte": 89428, "end_byte": 89644, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 244.32000732421875, "end_time": 256.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 244.30500732421874, "cut_end_time": 256.30000732421877}, {"text": "He dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire.", "start_byte": 89778, "end_byte": 89829, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 264.1600036621094, "end_time": 267.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 264.7550036621094, "cut_end_time": 266.9500036621094}, {"text": "He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.", "start_byte": 89914, "end_byte": 90031, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 273.4800109863281, "end_time": 281.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 273.93501098632817, "cut_end_time": 280.45007348632817}, {"text": "She crept across to him, drawing her stool after her.", "start_byte": 90033, "end_byte": 90086, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 281.0400085449219, "end_time": 284.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 281.6550085449219, "cut_end_time": 284.31007104492187}, {"text": "Hilda\u2019s face quivered, but she whispered:", "start_byte": 90212, "end_byte": 90253, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 294.0400085449219, "end_time": 296.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 294.3350085449219, "cut_end_time": 296.0800085449219}, {"text": "Alexander groaned.", "start_byte": 90350, "end_byte": 90368, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 302.32000732421875, "end_time": 303.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 302.81500732421875, "cut_end_time": 303.9000073242188}, {"text": " She pressed his hand gently in gratitude.", "start_byte": 90515, "end_byte": 90557, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 312.5199890136719, "end_time": 314.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 312.77498901367187, "cut_end_time": 314.6900515136719}, {"text": "She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.", "start_byte": 90593, "end_byte": 90797, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 317.0400085449219, "end_time": 329.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 317.4350085449219, "cut_end_time": 329.0800710449219}, {"text": " she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve.", "start_byte": 90859, "end_byte": 90955, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 334.3999938964844, "end_time": 339.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 334.3749938964844, "cut_end_time": 339.3801188964844}, {"text": "His hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves.", "start_byte": 91063, "end_byte": 91134, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 346.0799865722656, "end_time": 349.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 346.63498657226563, "cut_end_time": 349.70011157226566}, {"text": " he said simply.", "start_byte": 91161, "end_byte": 91177, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 351.2799987792969, "end_time": 352.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 351.2549987792969, "cut_end_time": 352.1500612792969}, {"text": "She leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: \u2014 ", "start_byte": 91179, "end_byte": 91235, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 352.5199890136719, "end_time": 356.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 352.8949890136719, "cut_end_time": 355.4301140136719}, {"text": "Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.", "start_byte": 91617, "end_byte": 91780, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 378.8800048828125, "end_time": 388.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 379.2350048828125, "cut_end_time": 387.83000488281255}, {"text": " She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair.", "start_byte": 91924, "end_byte": 92000, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 398.6400146484375, "end_time": 403.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 398.9350146484375, "cut_end_time": 403.1900771484375}, {"text": " she whispered.", "start_byte": 92025, "end_byte": 92040, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 405.67999267578125, "end_time": 406.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 405.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 406.3400551757813}, {"text": " he said heavily.", "start_byte": 92178, "end_byte": 92195, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 415.6000061035156, "end_time": 417.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 415.57500610351565, "cut_end_time": 416.54006860351564}, {"text": "Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth.", "start_byte": 92197, "end_byte": 92292, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 417.0400085449219, "end_time": 422.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 417.2650085449219, "cut_end_time": 422.7400085449219}, {"text": "Hilda sprang up like a flame. She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.", "start_byte": 92486, "end_byte": 92587, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 435.0, "end_time": 440.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 435.235, "cut_end_time": 440.2500625}, {"text": " she gasped.", "start_byte": 92594, "end_byte": 92606, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 440.7200012207031, "end_time": 441.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 440.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 441.57000122070315}, {"text": "Alexander rose and shook himself angrily.", "start_byte": 92961, "end_byte": 93002, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 463.44000244140625, "end_time": 465.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 463.8350024414063, "cut_end_time": 465.82000244140625}, {"text": " He took her roughly in his arms.", "start_byte": 93346, "end_byte": 93379, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 486.0, "end_time": 487.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 486.285, "cut_end_time": 487.54006250000003}, {"text": "Hilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly.", "start_byte": 93408, "end_byte": 93468, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 489.1199951171875, "end_time": 492.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 489.3549951171875, "cut_end_time": 492.1200576171875}, {"text": "Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.", "start_byte": 93725, "end_byte": 93849, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 509.5199890136719, "end_time": 516.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 509.8349890136719, "cut_end_time": 515.8400515136719}, {"text": " She pressed his shoulders gently.", "start_byte": 94115, "end_byte": 94149, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 532.760009765625, "end_time": 535.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 533.0550097656251, "cut_end_time": 534.780072265625}, {"text": "She slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.", "start_byte": 94543, "end_byte": 94710, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 562.9199829101562, "end_time": 574.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 563.4449829101562, "cut_end_time": 574.1000454101563}, {"text": " he whispered.", "start_byte": 94735, "end_byte": 94749, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 575.9199829101562, "end_time": 576.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 575.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 576.6801079101563}, {"text": " she murmured.", "start_byte": 94895, "end_byte": 94909, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 585.719970703125, "end_time": 586.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 585.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 586.390033203125}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json b/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..f5cb9e620c737353699d447dd682e33799de1aea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/1797/4446/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "1797/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4446/alexanders_bridge_jm_librivox_64kb_mp3/alexandersbridge_11_cather_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4446", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cHow good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You\u2019ve helped me over a good many Christmases.", "start_byte": 143271, "end_byte": 143409, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 91.95999908447266, "end_time": 99.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 92.39499908447264, "cut_end_time": 99.73006158447265, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAs if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.\u201d", "start_byte": 143437, "end_byte": 143551, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 101.5199966430664, "end_time": 108.23999786376953, "cut_start_time": 101.8849966430664, "cut_end_time": 107.9800591430664, "narrative_prediction": {"smiled": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "gayly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cThat means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn\u2019t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 143747, "end_byte": 143870, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 118.87999725341797, "end_time": 125.5999984741211, "cut_start_time": 119.08499725341797, "cut_end_time": 125.12005975341796, "narrative_prediction": {"laughed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "carefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cAh, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated \u2014 as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.\u201d", "start_byte": 143904, "end_byte": 144147, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 127.44000244140625, "end_time": 141.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 127.59500244140625, "cut_end_time": 141.26006494140626, "narrative_prediction": {"took": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "gratefully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cSeventy? Never mention it to me.", "start_byte": 144149, "end_byte": 144182, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 141.8000030517578, "end_time": 144.0, "cut_start_time": 141.8350030517578, "cut_end_time": 143.8500030517578, "narrative_prediction": {"looked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "appreciatively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou\u2019ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can\u2019t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You\u2019re the realest thing I have.\u201d", "start_byte": 144328, "end_byte": 144486, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 152.16000366210938, "end_time": 160.72000122070312, "cut_start_time": 152.50500366210937, "cut_end_time": 160.45006616210938, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You\u2019ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You\u2019ll visit me often, won\u2019t you?\u201d", "start_byte": 144505, "end_byte": 144737, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 162.1199951171875, "end_time": 175.9600067138672, "cut_start_time": 162.1249951171875, "cut_end_time": 175.6101201171875, "narrative_prediction": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cEvery day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.", "start_byte": 144739, "end_byte": 144829, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 175.9600067138672, "end_time": 180.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 176.21500671386718, "cut_end_time": 180.45000671386717, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cBut you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?\u201d", "start_byte": 144871, "end_byte": 144923, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 183.16000366210938, "end_time": 186.27999877929688, "cut_start_time": 183.51500366210936, "cut_end_time": 185.93000366210936, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.\u201d", "start_byte": 144925, "end_byte": 145101, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 186.27999877929688, "end_time": 198.0399932861328, "cut_start_time": 186.72499877929687, "cut_end_time": 197.79006127929688, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAh, you saw Mrs. Alexander?\u201d", "start_byte": 145103, "end_byte": 145132, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 198.0399932861328, "end_time": 200.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 198.3949932861328, "cut_end_time": 200.2601182861328, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cOften. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.", "start_byte": 145134, "end_byte": 145500, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 200.8000030517578, "end_time": 221.83999633789062, "cut_start_time": 200.9650030517578, "cut_end_time": 221.6900030517578, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.\u201d", "start_byte": 145552, "end_byte": 145684, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 224.52000427246094, "end_time": 232.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 224.88500427246092, "cut_end_time": 231.94006677246094, "narrative_prediction": {"looked": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "reflectively": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy?\u201d", "start_byte": 145686, "end_byte": 145692, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 232.8000030517578, "end_time": 234.0, "cut_start_time": 232.9050030517578, "cut_end_time": 233.5400030517578, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy? Why, dear me, I don\u2019t know. She probably never thought of it.\u201d", "start_byte": 145849, "end_byte": 145917, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 242.55999755859375, "end_time": 246.9199981689453, "cut_start_time": 242.63499755859374, "cut_end_time": 246.45006005859375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI don\u2019t know what made me say that. I didn\u2019t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.\u201d", "start_byte": 145938, "end_byte": 146041, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 248.36000061035156, "end_time": 254.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 248.61500061035156, "cut_end_time": 253.79000061035157, "narrative_prediction": {"bit": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It\u2019s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I\u2019ve ever known. It\u2019s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn\u2019t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.\u201d", "start_byte": 146043, "end_byte": 146550, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 254.1199951171875, "end_time": 287.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 254.5649951171875, "cut_end_time": 287.0401201171875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWith a difference? Because of her, you mean?\u201d", "start_byte": 146619, "end_byte": 146665, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 291.3599853515625, "end_time": 294.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 291.56498535156254, "cut_end_time": 293.8500478515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cSomething like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.\u201d", "start_byte": 146691, "end_byte": 146810, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 296.32000732421875, "end_time": 303.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 296.4150073242188, "cut_end_time": 302.9200073242188, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYou didn\u2019t altogether like that? You felt it wasn\u2019t wholly fair to him?\u201d", "start_byte": 146870, "end_byte": 146943, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 306.5199890136719, "end_time": 311.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 306.8649890136719, "cut_end_time": 310.4800515136719, "narrative_prediction": {"studied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "intently": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn\u2019t square.\u201d", "start_byte": 146994, "end_byte": 147273, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 314.239990234375, "end_time": 331.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 314.534990234375, "cut_end_time": 331.16011523437504, "narrative_prediction": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "himself": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}, "readjusted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cHas she grown much older?", "start_byte": 147301, "end_byte": 147327, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 333.9200134277344, "end_time": 335.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 334.2350134277344, "cut_end_time": 335.4200134277344, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. \u2018Forget thyself to marble\u2019; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness \u00e0 deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn\u2019t even go through the form of seeing people much. I\u2019m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.\u201d", "start_byte": 147349, "end_byte": 147806, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 337.1199951171875, "end_time": 367.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 337.44499511718755, "cut_end_time": 366.91005761718753, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cPerhaps she\u2019s afraid of letting him out a little, of sharing him with somebody.\u201d", "start_byte": 147808, "end_byte": 147889, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 367.3599853515625, "end_time": 372.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 367.8649853515625, "cut_end_time": 371.8201103515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDear me, it takes a woman to think of that, now! I don\u2019t, you know, think we ought to be hard on her. More, even, than the rest of us she didn\u2019t choose her destiny. She underwent it. And it has left her chilled. As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence \u2014 well, it is a pretty brutal and stupid world, after all, you know.\u201d", "start_byte": 147947, "end_byte": 148289, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 375.9599914550781, "end_time": 396.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 376.30499145507815, "cut_end_time": 396.32011645507816, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, I know, I know. Only I can\u2019t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.\u201d", "start_byte": 148313, "end_byte": 148530, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 398.55999755859375, "end_time": 413.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 398.85499755859377, "cut_end_time": 412.64006005859375, "narrative_prediction": {"leaned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, yes! He left an echo. The ripples go on in all of us. He belonged to the people who make the play, and most of us are only onlookers at the best. We shouldn\u2019t wonder too much at Mrs. Alexander. She must feel how useless it would be to stir about, that she may as well sit still; that nothing can happen to her after Bartley.\u201d", "start_byte": 148547, "end_byte": 148877, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 414.3999938964844, "end_time": 436.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 414.6149938964844, "cut_end_time": 436.1001188964844, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes,", "start_byte": 148879, "end_byte": 148884, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 436.6400146484375, "end_time": 437.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 437.1750146484375, "cut_end_time": 437.6200146484375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cnothing can happen to one after Bartley.\u201d", "start_byte": 148905, "end_byte": 148947, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 439.3599853515625, "end_time": 442.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 439.69498535156254, "cut_end_time": 441.78004785156253, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "softly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "It was late when Wilson reached Hilda\u2019s apartment on this particular December afternoon, and he found her alone. She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable, as she had such a knack of making people comfortable.", "start_byte": 143054, "end_byte": 143269, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 79.44000244140625, "end_time": 91.95999908447266, "cut_start_time": 80.20500244140625, "cut_end_time": 91.07000244140625}, {"text": " She smiled at him gayly.", "start_byte": 143410, "end_byte": 143435, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 99.63999938964844, "end_time": 101.5199966430664, "cut_start_time": 99.73499938964844, "cut_end_time": 101.06006188964844}, {"text": "He peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.", "start_byte": 143553, "end_byte": 143696, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 108.23999786376953, "end_time": 116.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 108.64499786376953, "cut_end_time": 115.89012286376952}, {"text": "Hilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream.", "start_byte": 143698, "end_byte": 143746, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 116.36000061035156, "end_time": 118.87999725341797, "cut_start_time": 116.50500061035156, "cut_end_time": 118.63000061035156}, {"text": "Wilson took the cup gratefully.", "start_byte": 143872, "end_byte": 143903, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 125.5999984741211, "end_time": 127.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 125.69499847412109, "cut_end_time": 127.3001234741211}, {"text": " Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor\u2019s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes.", "start_byte": 144183, "end_byte": 144327, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 144.0, "end_time": 152.16000366210938, "cut_start_time": 144.195, "cut_end_time": 151.9600625}, {"text": "Wilson chuckled.", "start_byte": 144488, "end_byte": 144504, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 160.72000122070312, "end_time": 162.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 160.96500122070313, "cut_end_time": 162.18000122070313}, {"text": " She struck a match and lit one for him.", "start_byte": 144830, "end_byte": 144870, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 180.67999267578125, "end_time": 183.16000366210938, "cut_start_time": 180.94499267578124, "cut_end_time": 182.79011767578123}, {"text": " The Professor looked reflectively into the grate.", "start_byte": 145501, "end_byte": 145551, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 221.83999633789062, "end_time": 224.52000427246094, "cut_start_time": 222.14499633789063, "cut_end_time": 224.31012133789062}, {"text": "Wilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry.", "start_byte": 145694, "end_byte": 145848, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 234.0, "end_time": 242.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 234.45499999999998, "cut_end_time": 242.16}, {"text": "Hilda bit her lip.", "start_byte": 145919, "end_byte": 145937, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 246.9199981689453, "end_time": 248.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 247.1449981689453, "cut_end_time": 248.0201231689453}, {"text": "Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand.", "start_byte": 146552, "end_byte": 146618, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 287.44000244140625, "end_time": 291.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 287.68500244140625, "cut_end_time": 290.92000244140627}, {"text": "Wilson\u2019s brow wrinkled.", "start_byte": 146667, "end_byte": 146690, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 294.3599853515625, "end_time": 296.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 294.6449853515625, "cut_end_time": 295.97011035156254}, {"text": "Hilda studied the droop of the Professor\u2019s head intently.", "start_byte": 146812, "end_byte": 146869, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 303.55999755859375, "end_time": 306.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 303.8349975585938, "cut_end_time": 306.2300600585938}, {"text": "Wilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses.", "start_byte": 146945, "end_byte": 146993, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 311.2799987792969, "end_time": 314.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 311.6849987792969, "cut_end_time": 313.9700612792969}, {"text": "Hilda considered vaguely.", "start_byte": 147275, "end_byte": 147300, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 331.9200134277344, "end_time": 333.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 332.2050134277344, "cut_end_time": 333.4900759277344}, {"text": " she asked at last.", "start_byte": 147328, "end_byte": 147347, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 335.55999755859375, "end_time": 337.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 335.68499755859375, "cut_end_time": 336.6600600585938}, {"text": "Wilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm.", "start_byte": 147891, "end_byte": 147946, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 372.7200012207031, "end_time": 375.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 373.11500122070316, "cut_end_time": 375.62000122070316}, {"text": "Hilda leaned forward.", "start_byte": 148291, "end_byte": 148312, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 396.8800048828125, "end_time": 398.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 397.1150048828125, "cut_end_time": 398.15000488281254}, {"text": "Wilson nodded.", "start_byte": 148532, "end_byte": 148546, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 413.1199951171875, "end_time": 414.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 413.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 414.3200576171875}, {"text": " said Hilda softly,", "start_byte": 148885, "end_byte": 148904, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 437.5199890136719, "end_time": 439.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 437.4949890136719, "cut_end_time": 438.7200515136719}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/1797/clean_text.txt b/test/1797/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..641f85d3fd062ef22b72b0104ced6716e37a48aa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/1797/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,973 @@
+Alexander’s Bridge
+
+by Willa Cather
+
+And THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ALEXANDER’S BRIDGE by Willa Cather CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X EPILOGUE
+
+THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+ALEXANDER’S BRIDGE by Willa Cather
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street, looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston. He had lived there as a student, but for twenty years and more, since he had been Professor of Philosophy in a Western university, he had seldom come East except to take a steamer for some foreign port. Wilson was standing quite still, contemplating with a whimsical smile the slanting street, with its worn paving, its irregular, gravely colored houses, and the row of naked trees on which the thin sunlight was still shining. The gleam of the river at the foot of the hill made him blink a little, not so much because it was too bright as because he found it so pleasant. The few passers-by glanced at him unconcernedly, and even the children who hurried along with their school-bags under their arms seemed to find it perfectly natural that a tall brown gentleman should be standing there, looking up through his glasses at the gray housetops.
+
+The sun sank rapidly; the silvery light had faded from the bare boughs and the watery twilight was setting in when Wilson at last walked down the hill, descending into cooler and cooler depths of grayish shadow. His nostril, long unused to it, was quick to detect the smell of wood smoke in the air, blended with the odor of moist spring earth and the saltiness that came up the river with the tide. He crossed Charles Street between jangling street cars and shelving lumber drays, and after a moment of uncertainty wound into Brimmer Street. The street was quiet, deserted, and hung with a thin bluish haze. He had already fixed his sharp eye upon the house which he reasoned should be his objective point, when he noticed a woman approaching rapidly from the opposite direction. Always an interested observer of women, Wilson would have slackened his pace anywhere to follow this one with his impersonal, appreciative glance. She was a person of distinction he saw at once, and, moreover, very handsome. She was tall, carried her beautiful head proudly, and moved with ease and certainty. One immediately took for granted the costly privileges and fine spaces that must lie in the background from which such a figure could emerge with this rapid and elegant gait. Wilson noted her dress, too, — for, in his way, he had an eye for such things, — particularly her brown furs and her hat. He got a blurred impression of her fine color, the violets she wore, her white gloves, and, curiously enough, of her veil, as she turned up a flight of steps in front of him and disappeared.
+
+Wilson was able to enjoy lovely things that passed him on the wing as completely and deliberately as if they had been dug-up marvels, long anticipated, and definitely fixed at the end of a railway journey. For a few pleasurable seconds he quite forgot where he was going, and only after the door had closed behind her did he realize that the young woman had entered the house to which he had directed his trunk from the South Station that morning. He hesitated a moment before mounting the steps. “Can that,” he murmured in amazement, — “can that possibly have been Mrs. Alexander?”
+
+When the servant admitted him, Mrs. Alexander was still standing in the hallway. She heard him give his name, and came forward holding out her hand.
+
+“Is it you, indeed, Professor Wilson? I was afraid that you might get here before I did. I was detained at a concert, and Bartley telephoned that he would be late. Thomas will show you your room. Had you rather have your tea brought to you there, or will you have it down here with me, while we wait for Bartley?”
+
+Wilson was pleased to find that he had been the cause of her rapid walk, and with her he was even more vastly pleased than before. He followed her through the drawing-room into the library, where the wide back windows looked out upon the garden and the sunset and a fine stretch of silver-colored river. A harp-shaped elm stood stripped against the pale-colored evening sky, with ragged last year’s birds’ nests in its forks, and through the bare branches the evening star quivered in the misty air. The long brown room breathed the peace of a rich and amply guarded quiet. Tea was brought in immediately and placed in front of the wood fire. Mrs. Alexander sat down in a high-backed chair and began to pour it, while Wilson sank into a low seat opposite her and took his cup with a great sense of ease and harmony and comfort.
+
+“You have had a long journey, haven’t you?” Mrs. Alexander asked, after showing gracious concern about his tea. “And I am so sorry Bartley is late. He’s often tired when he’s late. He flatters himself that it is a little on his account that you have come to this Congress of Psychologists.”
+
+“It is,” Wilson assented, selecting his muffin carefully; “and I hope he won’t be tired tonight. But, on my own account, I’m glad to have a few moments alone with you, before Bartley comes. I was somehow afraid that my knowing him so well would not put me in the way of getting to know you.”
+
+“That’s very nice of you.” She nodded at him above her cup and smiled, but there was a little formal tightness in her tone which had not been there when she greeted him in the hall.
+
+Wilson leaned forward. “Have I said something awkward? I live very far out of the world, you know. But I didn’t mean that you would exactly fade dim, even if Bartley were here.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander laughed relentingly. “Oh, I’m not so vain! How terribly discerning you are.”
+
+She looked straight at Wilson, and he felt that this quick, frank glance brought about an understanding between them.
+
+He liked everything about her, he told himself, but he particularly liked her eyes; when she looked at one directly for a moment they were like a glimpse of fine windy sky that may bring all sorts of weather.
+
+“Since you noticed something,” Mrs. Alexander went on, “it must have been a flash of the distrust I have come to feel whenever I meet any of the people who knew Bartley when he was a boy. It is always as if they were talking of someone I had never met. Really, Professor Wilson, it would seem that he grew up among the strangest people. They usually say that he has turned out very well, or remark that he always was a fine fellow. I never know what reply to make.”
+
+Wilson chuckled and leaned back in his chair, shaking his left foot gently. “I expect the fact is that we none of us knew him very well, Mrs. Alexander. Though I will say for myself that I was always confident he’d do something extraordinary.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander’s shoulders gave a slight movement, suggestive of impatience. “Oh, I should think that might have been a safe prediction. Another cup, please?”
+
+“Yes, thank you. But predicting, in the case of boys, is not so easy as you might imagine, Mrs. Alexander. Some get a bad hurt early and lose their courage; and some never get a fair wind. Bartley” — he dropped his chin on the back of his long hand and looked at her admiringly — “Bartley caught the wind early, and it has sung in his sails ever since.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander sat looking into the fire with intent preoccupation, and Wilson studied her half-averted face. He liked the suggestion of stormy possibilities in the proud curve of her lip and nostril. Without that, he reflected, she would be too cold.
+
+“I should like to know what he was really like when he was a boy. I don’t believe he remembers,” she said suddenly. “Won’t you smoke, Mr. Wilson?”
+
+Wilson lit a cigarette. “No, I don’t suppose he does. He was never introspective. He was simply the most tremendous response to stimuli I have ever known. We didn’t know exactly what to do with him.”
+
+A servant came in and noiselessly removed the tea-tray. Mrs. Alexander screened her face from the firelight, which was beginning to throw wavering bright spots on her dress and hair as the dusk deepened.
+
+“Of course,” she said, “I now and again hear stories about things that happened when he was in college.”
+
+“But that isn’t what you want.” Wilson wrinkled his brows and looked at her with the smiling familiarity that had come about so quickly. “What you want is a picture of him, standing back there at the other end of twenty years. You want to look down through my memory.”
+
+She dropped her hands in her lap. “Yes, yes; that’s exactly what I want.”
+
+At this moment they heard the front door shut with a jar, and Wilson laughed as Mrs. Alexander rose quickly. “There he is. Away with perspective! No past, no future for Bartley; just the fiery moment. The only moment that ever was or will be in the world!”
+
+The door from the hall opened, a voice called “Winifred?” hurriedly, and a big man came through the drawing-room with a quick, heavy tread, bringing with him a smell of cigar smoke and chill out-of-doors air. When Alexander reached the library door, he switched on the lights and stood six feet and more in the archway, glowing with strength and cordiality and rugged, blond good looks. There were other bridge-builders in the world, certainly, but it was always Alexander’s picture that the Sunday Supplement men wanted, because he looked as a tamer of rivers ought to look. Under his tumbled sandy hair his head seemed as hard and powerful as a catapult, and his shoulders looked strong enough in themselves to support a span of any one of his ten great bridges that cut the air above as many rivers.
+
+After dinner Alexander took Wilson up to his study. It was a large room over the library, and looked out upon the black river and the row of white lights along the Cambridge Embankment. The room was not at all what one might expect of an engineer’s study. Wilson felt at once the harmony of beautiful things that have lived long together without obtrusions of ugliness or change. It was none of Alexander’s doing, of course; those warm consonances of color had been blending and mellowing before he was born. But the wonder was that he was not out of place there, — that it all seemed to glow like the inevitable background for his vigor and vehemence. He sat before the fire, his shoulders deep in the cushions of his chair, his powerful head upright, his hair rumpled above his broad forehead. He sat heavily, a cigar in his large, smooth hand, a flush of after-dinner color in his face, which wind and sun and exposure to all sorts of weather had left fair and clear-skinned.
+
+“You are off for England on Saturday, Bartley, Mrs. Alexander tells me.”
+
+“Yes, for a few weeks only. There’s a meeting of British engineers, and I’m doing another bridge in Canada, you know.”
+
+“Oh, every one knows about that. And it was in Canada that you met your wife, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Yes, at Allway. She was visiting her great-aunt there. A most remarkable old lady. I was working with MacKeller then, an old Scotch engineer who had picked me up in London and taken me back to Quebec with him. He had the contract for the Allway Bridge, but before he began work on it he found out that he was going to die, and he advised the committee to turn the job over to me. Otherwise I’d never have got anything good so early. MacKeller was an old friend of Mrs. Pemberton, Winifred’s aunt. He had mentioned me to her, so when I went to Allway she asked me to come to see her. She was a wonderful old lady.”
+
+“Like her niece?” Wilson queried.
+
+Bartley laughed. “She had been very handsome, but not in Winifred’s way. When I knew her she was little and fragile, very pink and white, with a splendid head and a face like fine old lace, somehow, — but perhaps I always think of that because she wore a lace scarf on her hair. She had such a flavor of life about her. She had known Gordon and Livingstone and Beaconsfield when she was young, — every one. She was the first woman of that sort I’d ever known. You know how it is in the West, — old people are poked out of the way. Aunt Eleanor fascinated me as few young women have ever done. I used to go up from the works to have tea with her, and sit talking to her for hours. It was very stimulating, for she couldn’t tolerate stupidity.”
+
+“It must have been then that your luck began, Bartley,” said Wilson, flicking his cigar ash with his long finger. “It’s curious, watching boys,” he went on reflectively. “I’m sure I did you justice in the matter of ability. Yet I always used to feel that there was a weak spot where some day strain would tell. Even after you began to climb, I stood down in the crowd and watched you with — well, not with confidence. The more dazzling the front you presented, the higher your facade rose, the more I expected to see a big crack zigzagging from top to bottom,” — he indicated its course in the air with his forefinger, — “then a crash and clouds of dust. It was curious. I had such a clear picture of it. And another curious thing, Bartley,” Wilson spoke with deliberateness and settled deeper into his chair, “is that I don’t feel it any longer. I am sure of you.”
+
+Alexander laughed. “Nonsense! It’s not I you feel sure of; it’s Winifred. People often make that mistake.”
+
+“No, I’m serious, Alexander. You’ve changed. You have decided to leave some birds in the bushes. You used to want them all.”
+
+Alexander’s chair creaked. “I still want a good many,” he said rather gloomily. “After all, life doesn’t offer a man much. You work like the devil and think you’re getting on, and suddenly you discover that you’ve only been getting yourself tied up. A million details drink you dry. Your life keeps going for things you don’t want, and all the while you are being built alive into a social structure you don’t care a rap about. I sometimes wonder what sort of chap I’d have been if I hadn’t been this sort; I want to go and live out his potentialities, too. I haven’t forgotten that there are birds in the bushes.”
+
+Bartley stopped and sat frowning into the fire, his shoulders thrust forward as if he were about to spring at something. Wilson watched him, wondering. His old pupil always stimulated him at first, and then vastly wearied him. The machinery was always pounding away in this man, and Wilson preferred companions of a more reflective habit of mind. He could not help feeling that there were unreasoning and unreasonable activities going on in Alexander all the while; that even after dinner, when most men achieve a decent impersonality, Bartley had merely closed the door of the engine-room and come up for an airing. The machinery itself was still pounding on.
+
+Bartley’s abstraction and Wilson’s reflections were cut short by a rustle at the door, and almost before they could rise Mrs. Alexander was standing by the hearth. Alexander brought a chair for her, but she shook her head.
+
+“No, dear, thank you. I only came in to see whether you and Professor Wilson were quite comfortable. I am going down to the music-room.”
+
+“Why not practice here? Wilson and I are growing very dull. We are tired of talk.”
+
+“Yes, I beg you, Mrs. Alexander,” Wilson began, but he got no further.
+
+“Why, certainly, if you won’t find me too noisy. I am working on the Schumann ‘Carnival,’ and, though I don’t practice a great many hours, I am very methodical,” Mrs. Alexander explained, as she crossed to an upright piano that stood at the back of the room, near the windows.
+
+Wilson followed, and, having seen her seated, dropped into a chair behind her. She played brilliantly and with great musical feeling. Wilson could not imagine her permitting herself to do anything badly, but he was surprised at the cleanness of her execution. He wondered how a woman with so many duties had managed to keep herself up to a standard really professional. It must take a great deal of time, certainly, and Bartley must take a great deal of time. Wilson reflected that he had never before known a woman who had been able, for any considerable while, to support both a personal and an intellectual passion. Sitting behind her, he watched her with perplexed admiration, shading his eyes with his hand. In her dinner dress she looked even younger than in street clothes, and, for all her composure and self-sufficiency, she seemed to him strangely alert and vibrating, as if in her, too, there were something never altogether at rest. He felt that he knew pretty much what she demanded in people and what she demanded from life, and he wondered how she squared Bartley. After ten years she must know him; and however one took him, however much one admired him, one had to admit that he simply wouldn’t square. He was a natural force, certainly, but beyond that, Wilson felt, he was not anything very really or for very long at a time.
+
+Wilson glanced toward the fire, where Bartley’s profile was still wreathed in cigar smoke that curled up more and more slowly. His shoulders were sunk deep in the cushions and one hand hung large and passive over the arm of his chair. He had slipped on a purple velvet smoking-coat. His wife, Wilson surmised, had chosen it. She was clearly very proud of his good looks and his fine color. But, with the glow of an immediate interest gone out of it, the engineer’s face looked tired, even a little haggard. The three lines in his forehead, directly above the nose, deepened as he sat thinking, and his powerful head drooped forward heavily. Although Alexander was only forty-three, Wilson thought that beneath his vigorous color he detected the dulling weariness of on-coming middle age.
+
+The next afternoon, at the hour when the river was beginning to redden under the declining sun, Wilson again found himself facing Mrs. Alexander at the tea-table in the library.
+
+“Well,” he remarked, when he was bidden to give an account of himself, “there was a long morning with the psychologists, luncheon with Bartley at his club, more psychologists, and here I am. I’ve looked forward to this hour all day.”
+
+Mrs. Alexander smiled at him across the vapor from the kettle. “And do you remember where we stopped yesterday?”
+
+“Perfectly. I was going to show you a picture. But I doubt whether I have color enough in me. Bartley makes me feel a faded monochrome. You can’t get at the young Bartley except by means of color.” Wilson paused and deliberated. Suddenly he broke out: “He wasn’t a remarkable student, you know, though he was always strong in higher mathematics. His work in my own department was quite ordinary. It was as a powerfully equipped nature that I found him interesting. That is the most interesting thing a teacher can find. It has the fascination of a scientific discovery. We come across other pleasing and endearing qualities so much oftener than we find force.”
+
+“And, after all,” said Mrs. Alexander, “that is the thing we all live upon. It is the thing that takes us forward.”
+
+Wilson thought she spoke a little wistfully. “Exactly,” he assented warmly. “It builds the bridges into the future, over which the feet of every one of us will go.”
+
+“How interested I am to hear you put it in that way. The bridges into the future — I often say that to myself. Bartley’s bridges always seem to me like that. Have you ever seen his first suspension bridge in Canada, the one he was doing when I first knew him? I hope you will see it sometime. We were married as soon as it was finished, and you will laugh when I tell you that it always has a rather bridal look to me. It is over the wildest river, with mists and clouds always battling about it, and it is as delicate as a cobweb hanging in the sky. It really was a bridge into the future. You have only to look at it to feel that it meant the beginning of a great career. But I have a photograph of it here.” She drew a portfolio from behind a bookcase. “And there, you see, on the hill, is my aunt’s house.”
+
+Wilson took up the photograph. “Bartley was telling me something about your aunt last night. She must have been a delightful person.”
+
+Winifred laughed. “The bridge, you see, was just at the foot of the hill, and the noise of the engines annoyed her very much at first. But after she met Bartley she pretended to like it, and said it was a good thing to be reminded that there were things going on in the world. She loved life, and Bartley brought a great deal of it in to her when he came to the house. Aunt Eleanor was very worldly in a frank, Early-Victorian manner. She liked men of action, and disliked young men who were careful of themselves and who, as she put it, were always trimming their wick as if they were afraid of their oil’s giving out. MacKeller, Bartley’s first chief, was an old friend of my aunt, and he told her that Bartley was a wild, ill-governed youth, which really pleased her very much. I remember we were sitting alone in the dusk after Bartley had been there for the first time. I knew that Aunt Eleanor had found him much to her taste, but she hadn’t said anything. Presently she came out, with a chuckle: ‘MacKeller found him sowing wild oats in London, I believe. I hope he didn’t stop him too soon. Life coquets with dashing fellows. The coming men are always like that. We must have him to dinner, my dear.’ And we did. She grew much fonder of Bartley than she was of me. I had been studying in Vienna, and she thought that absurd. She was interested in the army and in politics, and she had a great contempt for music and art and philosophy. She used to declare that the Prince Consort had brought all that stuff over out of Germany. She always sniffed when Bartley asked me to play for him. She considered that a newfangled way of making a match of it.”
+
+When Alexander came in a few moments later, he found Wilson and his wife still confronting the photograph. “Oh, let us get that out of the way,” he said, laughing. “Winifred, Thomas can bring my trunk down. I’ve decided to go over to New York to-morrow night and take a fast boat. I shall save two days.”
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+On the night of his arrival in London, Alexander went immediately to the hotel on the Embankment at which he always stopped, and in the lobby he was accosted by an old acquaintance, Maurice Mainhall, who fell upon him with effusive cordiality and indicated a willingness to dine with him. Bartley never dined alone if he could help it, and Mainhall was a good gossip who always knew what had been going on in town; especially, he knew everything that was not printed in the newspapers. The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself; among them a “History of Dancing,” a “History of Costume,” a “Key to Shakespeare’s Sonnets,” a study of “The Poetry of Ernest Dowson,” etc. Although Mainhall’s enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage-Englishman of American drama: tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. He spoke with an extreme Oxford accent, and when he was talking well, his face sometimes wore the rapt expression of a very emotional man listening to music. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else.
+
+While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London, and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnell’s new comedy, “Bog Lights.”
+
+“It’s really quite the best thing MacConnell’s done,” he explained as they got into a hansom. “It’s tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson. But Hilda Burgoyne’s the hit of the piece. Hugh’s written a delightful part for her, and she’s quite inexpressible. It’s been on only two weeks, and I’ve been half a dozen times already. I happen to have MacConnell’s box for tonight or there’d be no chance of our getting places. There’s everything in seeing Hilda while she’s fresh in a part. She’s apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do.”
+
+“Hilda Burgoyne!” Alexander exclaimed mildly. “Why, I haven’t heard of her for — years.”
+
+Mainhall laughed. “Then you can’t have heard much at all, my dear Alexander. It’s only lately, since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she’s come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London — but what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander,” — Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger, — “do you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice; but, dear me, we do need some one.”
+
+Just then they drove up to the Duke of York’s, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage-box on the left the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander’s attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. “After all,” he reflected, “there’s small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn’t thought of me for years.” He felt the enthusiasm of the house at once, and in a few moments he was caught up by the current of MacConnell’s irresistible comedy. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey-girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation, every one smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing.
+
+“You see,” he murmured in Alexander’s ear, as the curtain fell on the first act, “one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish, — the Burgoynes have been stage people for generations, — and she has the Irish voice. It’s delightful to hear it in a London theatre. That laugh, now, when she doubles over at the hips — who ever heard it out of Galway? She saves her hand, too. She’s at her best in the second act. She’s really MacConnell’s poetic motif, you see; makes the whole thing a fairy tale.”
+
+The second act opened before Philly Doyle’s underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of potheen across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall’s sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half-skeptical interest. As Mainhall had said, she was the second act; the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together, in her mirthful brown eyes. When she began to dance, by way of showing the gossoons what she had seen in the fairy rings at night, the house broke into a prolonged uproar. After her dance she withdrew from the dialogue and retreated to the ditch wall back of Philly’s burrow, where she sat singing “The Rising of the Moon” and making a wreath of primroses for her donkey.
+
+When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor. They met a good many acquaintances; Mainhall, indeed, knew almost every one, and he babbled on incontinently, screwing his small head about over his high collar. Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.
+
+“MacConnell, let me introduce Mr. Bartley Alexander. I say! It’s going famously to-night, Mac. And what an audience! You’ll never do anything like this again, mark me. A man writes to the top of his bent only once.”
+
+The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face. “And have I done anything so fool as that, now?” he asked.
+
+“That’s what I was saying,” Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential. “And you’ll never bring Hilda out like this again. Dear me, Mac, the girl couldn’t possibly be better, you know.”
+
+MacConnell grunted. “She’ll do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesn’t go off on us in the middle of the season, as she’s more than like to do.”
+
+He nodded curtly and made for the door, dodging acquaintances as he went.
+
+“Poor old Hugh,” Mainhall murmured. “He’s hit terribly hard. He’s been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more. She doesn’t take up with anybody, you know. Irene Burgoyne, one of her family, told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning. One of your countrymen, Alexander, by the way; an American student whom she met in Paris, I believe. I dare say it’s quite true that there’s never been any one else.” Mainhall vouched for her constancy with a loftiness that made Alexander smile, even while a kind of rapid excitement was tingling through him. Blinking up at the lights, Mainhall added in his luxurious, worldly way: “She’s an elegant little person, and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that. Here comes Sir Harry Towne. He’s another who’s awfully keen about her. Let me introduce you. Sir Harry Towne, Mr. Bartley Alexander, the American engineer.”
+
+Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr. Alexander and his wife in Tokyo.
+
+Mainhall cut in impatiently.
+
+“I say, Sir Harry, the little girl’s going famously to-night, isn’t she?”
+
+Sir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously. “Do you know, I thought the dance a bit conscious to-night, for the first time. The fact is, she’s feeling rather seedy, poor child. Westmere and I were back after the first act, and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself. A little attack of nerves, possibly.”
+
+He bowed as the warning bell rang, and Mainhall whispered: “You know Lord Westmere, of course, — the stooped man with the long gray mustache, talking to Lady Dowle. Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda.”
+
+When they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing “The Cloak of Old Gaul.” In a moment Peggy was on the stage again, and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest. He even leaned forward over the rail a little. For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience. In the half-light he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously, recalling with amusement Sir Harry’s judicial frown. He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender, barefoot donkey-girl who slipped in and out of the play, singing, like some one winding through a hilly field. He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when, at the end of the play, she came again and again before the curtain, panting a little and flushed, her eyes dancing and her eager, nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement.
+
+When Alexander returned to his hotel — he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre — he had some supper brought up to his room, and it was late before he went to bed. He had not thought of Hilda Burgoyne for years; indeed, he had almost forgotten her. He had last written to her from Canada, after he first met Winifred, telling her that everything was changed with him — that he had met a woman whom he would marry if he could; if he could not, then all the more was everything changed for him. Hilda had never replied to his letter. He felt guilty and unhappy about her for a time, but after Winifred promised to marry him he really forgot Hilda altogether. When he wrote her that everything was changed for him, he was telling the truth. After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man. One night when he and Winifred were sitting together on the bridge, he told her that things had happened while he was studying abroad that he was sorry for, — one thing in particular, — and he asked her whether she thought she ought to know about them. She considered a moment and then said “No, I think not, though I am glad you ask me. You see, one can’t be jealous about things in general; but about particular, definite, personal things,” — here she had thrown her hands up to his shoulders with a quick, impulsive gesture — “oh, about those I should be very jealous. I should torture myself — I couldn’t help it.” After that it was easy to forget, actually to forget. He wondered to-night, as he poured his wine, how many times he had thought of Hilda in the last ten years. He had been in London more or less, but he had never happened to hear of her. “All the same,” he lifted his glass, “here’s to you, little Hilda. You’ve made things come your way, and I never thought you’d do it.
+
+“Of course,” he reflected, “she always had that combination of something homely and sensible, and something utterly wild and daft. But I never thought she’d do anything. She hadn’t much ambition then, and she was too fond of trifles. She must care about the theatre a great deal more than she used to. Perhaps she has me to thank for something, after all. Sometimes a little jolt like that does one good. She was a daft, generous little thing. I’m glad she’s held her own since. After all, we were awfully young. It was youth and poverty and proximity, and everything was young and kindly. I shouldn’t wonder if she could laugh about it with me now. I shouldn’t wonder — But they’ve probably spoiled her, so that she’d be tiresome if one met her again.”
+
+Bartley smiled and yawned and went to bed.
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+The next evening Alexander dined alone at a club, and at about nine o’clock he dropped in at the Duke of York’s. The house was sold out and he stood through the second act. When he returned to his hotel he examined the new directory, and found Miss Burgoyne’s address still given as off Bedford Square, though at a new number. He remembered that, in so far as she had been brought up at all, she had been brought up in Bloomsbury. Her father and mother played in the provinces most of the year, and she was left a great deal in the care of an old aunt who was crippled by rheumatism and who had had to leave the stage altogether. In the days when Alexander knew her, Hilda always managed to have a lodging of some sort about Bedford Square, because she clung tenaciously to such scraps and shreds of memories as were connected with it. The mummy room of the British Museum had been one of the chief delights of her childhood. That forbidding pile was the goal of her truant fancy, and she was sometimes taken there for a treat, as other children are taken to the theatre. It was long since Alexander had thought of any of these things, but now they came back to him quite fresh, and had a significance they did not have when they were first told him in his restless twenties. So she was still in the old neighborhood, near Bedford Square. The new number probably meant increased prosperity. He hoped so. He would like to know that she was snugly settled. He looked at his watch. It was a quarter past ten; she would not be home for a good two hours yet, and he might as well walk over and have a look at the place. He remembered the shortest way.
+
+It was a warm, smoky evening, and there was a grimy moon. He went through Covent Garden to Oxford Street, and as he turned into Museum Street he walked more slowly, smiling at his own nervousness as he approached the sullen gray mass at the end. He had not been inside the Museum, actually, since he and Hilda used to meet there; sometimes to set out for gay adventures at Twickenham or Richmond, sometimes to linger about the place for a while and to ponder by Lord Elgin’s marbles upon the lastingness of some things, or, in the mummy room, upon the awful brevity of others. Since then Bartley had always thought of the British Museum as the ultimate repository of mortality, where all the dead things in the world were assembled to make one’s hour of youth the more precious. One trembled lest before he got out it might somehow escape him, lest he might drop the glass from over-eagerness and see it shivered on the stone floor at his feet. How one hid his youth under his coat and hugged it! And how good it was to turn one’s back upon all that vaulted cold, to take Hilda’s arm and hurry out of the great door and down the steps into the sunlight among the pigeons — to know that the warm and vital thing within him was still there and had not been snatched away to flush Cæsar’s lean cheek or to feed the veins of some bearded Assyrian king. They in their day had carried the flaming liquor, but to-day was his! So the song used to run in his head those summer mornings a dozen years ago. Alexander walked by the place very quietly, as if he were afraid of waking some one.
+
+He crossed Bedford Square and found the number he was looking for. The house, a comfortable, well-kept place enough, was dark except for the four front windows on the second floor, where a low, even light was burning behind the white muslin sash curtains. Outside there were window boxes, painted white and full of flowers. Bartley was making a third round of the Square when he heard the far-flung hoof-beats of a hansom-cab horse, driven rapidly. He looked at his watch, and was astonished to find that it was a few minutes after twelve. He turned and walked back along the iron railing as the cab came up to Hilda’s number and stopped. The hansom must have been one that she employed regularly, for she did not stop to pay the driver. She stepped out quickly and lightly. He heard her cheerful “Good-night, cabby,” as she ran up the steps and opened the door with a latchkey. In a few moments the lights flared up brightly behind the white curtains, and as he walked away he heard a window raised. But he had gone too far to look up without turning round. He went back to his hotel, feeling that he had had a good evening, and he slept well.
+
+For the next few days Alexander was very busy. He took a desk in the office of a Scotch engineering firm on Henrietta Street, and was at work almost constantly. He avoided the clubs and usually dined alone at his hotel. One afternoon, after he had tea, he started for a walk down the Embankment toward Westminster, intending to end his stroll at Bedford Square and to ask whether Miss Burgoyne would let him take her to the theatre. But he did not go so far. When he reached the Abbey, he turned back and crossed Westminster Bridge and sat down to watch the trails of smoke behind the Houses of Parliament catch fire with the sunset. The slender towers were washed by a rain of golden light and licked by little flickering flames; Somerset House and the bleached gray pinnacles about Whitehall were floated in a luminous haze. The yellow light poured through the trees and the leaves seemed to burn with soft fires. There was a smell of acacias in the air everywhere, and the laburnums were dripping gold over the walls of the gardens. It was a sweet, lonely kind of summer evening. Remembering Hilda as she used to be, was doubtless more satisfactory than seeing her as she must be now — and, after all, Alexander asked himself, what was it but his own young years that he was remembering?
+
+He crossed back to Westminster, went up to the Temple, and sat down to smoke in the Middle Temple gardens, listening to the thin voice of the fountain and smelling the spice of the sycamores that came out heavily in the damp evening air. He thought, as he sat there, about a great many things: about his own youth and Hilda’s; above all, he thought of how glorious it had been, and how quickly it had passed; and, when it had passed, how little worth while anything was. None of the things he had gained in the least compensated. In the last six years his reputation had become, as the saying is, popular. Four years ago he had been called to Japan to deliver, at the Emperor’s request, a course of lectures at the Imperial University, and had instituted reforms throughout the islands, not only in the practice of bridge-building but in drainage and road-making. On his return he had undertaken the bridge at Moorlock, in Canada, the most important piece of bridge-building going on in the world, — a test, indeed, of how far the latest practice in bridge structure could be carried. It was a spectacular undertaking by reason of its very size, and Bartley realized that, whatever else he might do, he would probably always be known as the engineer who designed the great Moorlock Bridge, the longest cantilever in existence. Yet it was to him the least satisfactory thing he had ever done. He was cramped in every way by a niggardly commission, and was using lighter structural material than he thought proper. He had vexations enough, too, with his work at home. He had several bridges under way in the United States, and they were always being held up by strikes and delays resulting from a general industrial unrest.
+
+Though Alexander often told himself he had never put more into his work than he had done in the last few years, he had to admit that he had never got so little out of it. He was paying for success, too, in the demands made on his time by boards of civic enterprise and committees of public welfare. The obligations imposed by his wife’s fortune and position were sometimes distracting to a man who followed his profession, and he was expected to be interested in a great many worthy endeavors on her account as well as on his own. His existence was becoming a network of great and little details. He had expected that success would bring him freedom and power; but it had brought only power that was in itself another kind of restraint. He had always meant to keep his personal liberty at all costs, as old MacKeller, his first chief, had done, and not, like so many American engineers, to become a part of a professional movement, a cautious board member, a Nestor de pontibus. He happened to be engaged in work of public utility, but he was not willing to become what is called a public man. He found himself living exactly the kind of life he had determined to escape. What, he asked himself, did he want with these genial honors and substantial comforts? Hardships and difficulties he had carried lightly; overwork had not exhausted him; but this dead calm of middle life which confronted him, — of that he was afraid. He was not ready for it. It was like being buried alive. In his youth he would not have believed such a thing possible. The one thing he had really wanted all his life was to be free; and there was still something unconquered in him, something besides the strong work-horse that his profession had made of him. He felt rich to-night in the possession of that unstultified survival; in the light of his experience, it was more precious than honors or achievement. In all those busy, successful years there had been nothing so good as this hour of wild light-heartedness. This feeling was the only happiness that was real to him, and such hours were the only ones in which he could feel his own continuous identity — feel the boy he had been in the rough days of the old West, feel the youth who had worked his way across the ocean on a cattle-ship and gone to study in Paris without a dollar in his pocket. The man who sat in his offices in Boston was only a powerful machine. Under the activities of that machine the person who, in such moments as this, he felt to be himself, was fading and dying. He remembered how, when he was a little boy and his father called him in the morning, he used to leap from his bed into the full consciousness of himself. That consciousness was Life itself. Whatever took its place, action, reflection, the power of concentrated thought, were only functions of a mechanism useful to society; things that could be bought in the market. There was only one thing that had an absolute value for each individual, and it was just that original impulse, that internal heat, that feeling of one’s self in one’s own breast.
+
+When Alexander walked back to his hotel, the red and green lights were blinking along the docks on the farther shore, and the soft white stars were shining in the wide sky above the river.
+
+The next night, and the next, Alexander repeated this same foolish performance. It was always Miss Burgoyne whom he started out to find, and he got no farther than the Temple gardens and the Embankment. It was a pleasant kind of loneliness. To a man who was so little given to reflection, whose dreams always took the form of definite ideas, reaching into the future, there was a seductive excitement in renewing old experiences in imagination. He started out upon these walks half guiltily, with a curious longing and expectancy which were wholly gratified by solitude. Solitude, but not solitariness; for he walked shoulder to shoulder with a shadowy companion — not little Hilda Burgoyne, by any means, but some one vastly dearer to him than she had ever been — his own young self, the youth who had waited for him upon the steps of the British Museum that night, and who, though he had tried to pass so quietly, had known him and come down and linked an arm in his.
+
+It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions.
+
+One Sunday evening, at Lady Walford’s, Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne. Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there. He looked about for her rather nervously, and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawing-room, the centre of a circle of men, young and old. She was apparently telling them a story. They were all laughing and bending toward her. When she saw Alexander, she rose quickly and put out her hand. The other men drew back a little to let him approach.
+
+“Mr. Alexander! I am delighted. Have you been in London long?”
+
+Bartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. “Long enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!”
+
+She laughed as if she were pleased. “I’m glad you think so. I like it. Won’t you join us here?”
+
+“Miss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer,” Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again. Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair. Whatever she wore, people felt the charm of her active, girlish body with its slender hips and quick, eager shoulders. Alexander heard little of the story, but he watched Hilda intently. She must certainly, he reflected, be thirty, and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently. If her face had changed at all, it was in a slight hardening of the mouth — still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times, he felt — and in an added air of self-possession and self-reliance. She carried her head, too, a little more resolutely.
+
+When the story was finished, Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander, and the other men drifted away.
+
+“I thought I saw you in MacConnell’s box with Mainhall one evening, but I supposed you had left town before this.”
+
+She looked at him frankly and cordially, as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again.
+
+“No, I’ve been mooning about here.”
+
+Hilda laughed gayly. “Mooning! I see you mooning! You must be the busiest man in the world. Time and success have done well by you, you know. You’re handsomer than ever and you’ve gained a grand manner.”
+
+Alexander blushed and bowed. “Time and success have been good friends to both of us. Aren’t you tremendously pleased with yourself?”
+
+She laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, so-so. But I want to hear about you. Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan, and how the Emperor decorated you. What was it, Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun? That sounds like ‘The Mikado.’ And what about your new bridge — in Canada, isn’t it, and it’s to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I can’t remember.”
+
+Bartley shook his head and smiled drolly. “Since when have you been interested in bridges? Or have you learned to be interested in everything? And is that a part of success?”
+
+“Why, how absurd! As if I were not always interested!” Hilda exclaimed.
+
+“Well, I think we won’t talk about bridges here, at any rate.” Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown. “But I wonder whether you’d think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them?”
+
+“Why should I? Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons.”
+
+“I know. Mainhall offered to take me. But you must know that I’ve been in London several times within the last few years, and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time — ”
+
+She cut him short. “Nonsense. One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up, if that’s what you mean. I’m like every one else — more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me. Don’t you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like?”
+
+“Does it? Oh, how fine it all is, your coming on like this! But I didn’t want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you.” He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor.
+
+Hilda studied him in wide-eyed astonishment for a moment, and then broke into a low, amused laugh. “My dear Mr. Alexander, you have strange delicacies. If you please, that is exactly why you wish to see me. We understand that, do we not?”
+
+Bartley looked ruffled and turned the seal ring on his little finger about awkwardly.
+
+Hilda leaned back in her chair, watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes. “Come, don’t be angry, but don’t try to pose for me, or to be anything but what you are. If you care to come, it’s yourself I’ll be glad to see, and you thinking well of yourself. Don’t try to wear a cloak of humility; it doesn’t become you. Stalk in as you are and don’t make excuses. I’m not accustomed to inquiring into the motives of my guests. That would hardly be safe, even for Lady Walford, in a great house like this.”
+
+“Sunday afternoon, then,” said Alexander, as she rose to join her hostess. “How early may I come?”
+
+She gave him her hand and flushed and laughed. He bent over it a little stiffly. She went away on Lady Walford’s arm, and as he stood watching her yellow train glide down the long floor he looked rather sullen. He felt that he had not come out of it very brilliantly.
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne’s invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty-odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh MacConnell came with his sister, and stood about, managing his tea-cup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deep-set, faded eyes. He seemed to have made a resolute effort at tidiness of attire, and his sister, a robust, florid woman with a splendid joviality about her, kept eyeing his freshly creased clothes apprehensively. It was not very long, indeed, before his coat hung with a discouraged sag from his gaunt shoulders and his hair and beard were rumpled as if he had been out in a gale. His dry humor went under a cloud of absent-minded kindliness which, Mainhall explained, always overtook him here. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come in to a young girl’s party.
+
+The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. He looked very much like Agassiz, and his wife, in her old-fashioned black silk dress, overskirted and tight-sleeved, reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs. Browning. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their ‘bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. “She’s a dear, unworldly little thing,” said the philosopher absently; “more like the stage people of my young days — folk of simple manners. There aren’t many such left. American tours have spoiled them, I’m afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn’t care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.”
+
+Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with MacConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. He sent up his card, but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front.
+
+So sorry I can’t see you. Will you come and dine with me Sunday evening at half-past seven?
+
+H.B.
+
+When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living-room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walford’s.
+
+“I’m so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress, you know,” he said, taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair. “Yes, it’s very, very pretty. Every one at Lady Walford’s was looking at it.”
+
+Hilda curtsied. “Is that why you think it pretty? I’ve no need for fine clothes in Mac’s play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It’s owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don’t need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don’t like English cookery.”
+
+Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything.
+
+“I haven’t had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They’re quite unusual, aren’t they?”
+
+“Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d’Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg.”
+
+Alexander walked over to the bookcases. “It’s the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven’t got anything that doesn’t belong. Seems to me it looks particularly well to-night. And you have so many flowers. I like these little yellow irises.”
+
+“Rooms always look better by lamplight — in London, at least. Though Marie is clean — really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so critically? Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning.”
+
+“I’m glad,” said Alexander simply. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You’ve got awfully nice friends,” he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. “Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don’t talk of any one else as they do of you.”
+
+Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously: “I’ve a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It’s not worth much, but I love it. I’ve managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons. He’s that gifted, you know, but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get. And I’ve traveled a bit, too.”
+
+Marie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served.
+
+“My dining-room,” Hilda explained, as she led the way, “is the tiniest place you have ever seen.”
+
+It was a tiny room, hung all round with French prints, above which ran a shelf full of china. Hilda saw Alexander look up at it.
+
+“It’s not particularly rare,” she said, “but some of it was my mother’s. Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole, through all our wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn’t been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl, sometimes in the queerest lodgings, and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre — queer theatres, for that matter.”
+
+It was a wonderful little dinner. There was watercress soup, and sole, and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond. He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well.
+
+“I have some champagne for you, too. I don’t drink it myself, but I like to see it behave when it’s poured. There is nothing else that looks so jolly.”
+
+“Thank you. But I don’t like it so well as this.” Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about. “You have traveled, you say. Have you been in Paris much these late years?”
+
+Hilda lowered one of the candle-shades carefully. “Oh, yes, I go over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter. Dear old Madame Anger is dead — but perhaps you don’t remember her?”
+
+“Don’t I, though! I’m so sorry to hear it. How did her son turn out? I remember how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o’clock. He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts; and that’s saying a good deal.”
+
+“Well, he is still clever and lazy. They say he is a good architect when he will work. He’s a big, handsome creature, and he hates Americans as much as ever. But Angel — do you remember Angel?”
+
+“Perfectly. Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer?”
+
+“Ah, no. Poor Angel! She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Anger’s little kitchen, so she ran away with a soldier, and then with another soldier. Too bad! She still lives about the Quarter, and, though there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, though she always wears her Breton headdress. Her hair is still like flax, and her blue eyes are just like a baby’s, and she has the same three freckles on her little nose, and talks about going back to her bains de mer.”
+
+Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low, happy laugh. “How jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?”
+
+“Indeed I do. Come, we’ll have our coffee in the other room, and you can smoke.”
+
+Hilda rose quickly, as if she wished to change the drift of their talk, but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it.
+
+“What a warm, soft spring evening that was,” he went on, as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them; “and the sky, over the bridges, was just the color of the lilacs. We walked on down by the river, didn’t we?”
+
+Hilda laughed and looked at him questioningly. He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling.
+
+“I think we did,” she answered demurely. “It was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I remember, and you gave her a franc. I was frightened at your prodigality.”
+
+“I expect it was the last franc I had. What a strong brown face she had, and very tragic. She looked at us with such despair and longing, out from under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I would have given her some of mine off my back, if I could. I had enough and to spare then,” Bartley mused, and looked thoughtfully at his cigar.
+
+They were both remembering what the woman had said when she took the money: “God give you a happy love!” It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar: it had come out of the depths of the poor creature’s sorrow, vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking very slowly, arm in arm. When they reached the house where Hilda lodged, Bartley went across the court with her, and up the dark old stairs to the third landing; and there he had kissed her for the first time. He had shut his eyes to give him the courage, he remembered, and she had trembled so — 
+
+Bartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her. “Dear me, why did you do that? I had quite forgotten — I was back there. It was very jolly,” he murmured lazily, as Marie came in to take away the coffee.
+
+Hilda laughed and went over to the piano. “Well, we are neither of us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac is writing one; really for me this time. You see, I’m coming on.”
+
+“I’ve seen nothing else. What kind of a part is it? Shall you wear yellow gowns? I hope so.”
+
+He was looking at her round slender figure, as she stood by the piano, turning over a pile of music, and he felt the energy in every line of it.
+
+“No, it isn’t a dress-up part. He doesn’t seem to fancy me in fine feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I suppose I ought. But he’s given me some good Irish songs. Listen.”
+
+She sat down at the piano and sang. When she finished, Alexander shook himself out of a reverie.
+
+“Sing ‘The Harp That Once,’ Hilda. You used to sing it so well.”
+
+“Nonsense. Of course I can’t really sing, except the way my mother and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly, so I tried a master; but he confused me, just!”
+
+Alexander laughed. “All the same, sing it, Hilda.”
+
+Hilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window. “It’s really too warm in this room to sing. Don’t you feel it?”
+
+Alexander went over and opened the window for her. “Aren’t you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck? Can’t I get a scarf or something?”
+
+“Ask a theatre lady if she’s afraid of drafts!” Hilda laughed. “But perhaps, as I’m so warm — give me your handkerchief. There, just in front.” He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. “There, that will do. It looks like a bib.” She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square. “Isn’t London a tomb on Sunday night?”
+
+Alexander caught the agitation in her voice. He stood a little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he said: “It’s soft and misty. See how white the stars are.”
+
+For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke. They stood close together, looking out into the wan, watery sky, breathing always more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side. He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him.
+
+She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round. “Here, take it. You must go now, Bartley. Good-night.”
+
+Bartley leaned over her shoulder, without touching her, and whispered in her ear: “You are giving me a chance?”
+
+“Yes. Take it and go. This isn’t fair, you know. Good-night.”
+
+Alexander unclenched the two hands at his sides. With one he threw down the window and with the other — still standing behind her — he drew her back against him.
+
+She uttered a little cry, threw her arms over her head, and drew his face down to hers. “Are you going to let me love you a little, Bartley?” she whispered.
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+It was the afternoon of the day before Christmas. Mrs. Alexander had been driving about all the morning, leaving presents at the houses of her friends. She lunched alone, and as she rose from the table she spoke to the butler: “Thomas, I am going down to the kitchen now to see Norah. In half an hour you are to bring the greens up from the cellar and put them in the library. Mr. Alexander will be home at three to hang them himself. Don’t forget the stepladder, and plenty of tacks and string. You may bring the azaleas upstairs. Take the white one to Mr. Alexander’s study. Put the two pink ones in this room, and the red one in the drawing-room.”
+
+A little before three o’clock Mrs. Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready. She pulled the window shades high, for the weather was dark and stormy, and there was little light, even in the streets. A foot of snow had fallen during the morning, and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice. Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open. She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in, covered with snow. He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair.
+
+“I wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me, Winifred. The Common is beautiful. The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously. Did the cyclamens come?”
+
+“An hour ago. What splendid ones! But aren’t you frightfully extravagant?”
+
+“Not for Christmas-time. I’ll go upstairs and change my coat. I shall be down in a moment. Tell Thomas to get everything ready.”
+
+When Alexander reappeared, he took his wife’s arm and went with her into the library. “When did the azaleas get here? Thomas has got the white one in my room.”
+
+“I told him to put it there.”
+
+“But, I say, it’s much the finest of the lot!”
+
+“That’s why I had it put there. There is too much color in that room for a red one, you know.”
+
+Bartley began to sort the greens. “It looks very splendid there, but I feel piggish to have it. However, we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house. Will you hand me the holly?”
+
+He climbed up the stepladder, which creaked under his weight, and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the frame-work of the chandelier.
+
+“I forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson, this morning, explaining his telegram. He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money — something like ten thousand. He’s coming on to settle up the estate. Won’t it be jolly to have him?”
+
+“And how fine that he’s come into a little money. I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices. He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand. What can have detained him? I expected him here for luncheon.”
+
+“Those trains from Albany are always late. He’ll be along sometime this afternoon. And now, don’t you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour? You’ve had a busy morning and I don’t want you to be tired to-night.”
+
+After his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments. Then, as he was cutting off a length of string, he sighed suddenly and sat down, staring out of the window at the snow. The animation died out of his face, but in his eyes there was a restless light, a look of apprehension and suspense. He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something. The clock ticked through the minutes of a half-hour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly. Alexander, since he first sat down, had not changed his position. He leaned forward, his hands between his knees, scarcely breathing, as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings, from the room, and from the very chair in which he sat, from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness, as if he were trying to project himself thither. When at last Lucius Wilson was announced, Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor.
+
+“Hello, Wilson. What luck! Come into the library. We are to have a lot of people to dinner to-night, and Winifred’s lying down. You will excuse her, won’t you? And now what about yourself? Sit down and tell me everything.”
+
+“I think I’d rather move about, if you don’t mind. I’ve been sitting in the train for a week, it seems to me.” Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room. “You have been busy. Bartley, if I’d had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas, your house would certainly be the place I’d have chosen. Happy people do a great deal for their friends. A house like this throws its warmth out. I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires. I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs. Bartley again so soon.”
+
+“Thank you, Wilson. She’ll be as glad to see you. Shall we have tea now? I’ll ring for Thomas to clear away this litter. Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything. Do you know, I am quite tired. Looks as if I were not used to work, doesn’t it?” Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair. “You know, I’m sailing the day after New Year’s.”
+
+“Again? Why, you’ve been over twice since I was here in the spring, haven’t you?”
+
+“Oh, I was in London about ten days in the summer. Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else. I shan’t be gone more than a month this time. Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn. That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time. I never had so much trouble with a job before.” Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire.
+
+“Haven’t I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey?”
+
+“Oh, that doesn’t amount to anything. It’s held up by a steel strike. A bother, of course, but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with. But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety. You see, the truth is, we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there. They’ve crowded me too much on the cost. It’s all very well if everything goes well, but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before. However, there’s nothing to be done. They hold me to the scale I’ve used in shorter bridges. The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build.”
+
+When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study, where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writing-table.
+
+“These pink roses just came from Mrs. Hastings,” she said, smiling, “and I am sure she meant them for you.”
+
+Bartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows. “Have you a moment, Winifred? I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas. Can you realize it?” He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers, drying them with his pocket handkerchief. “They’ve been awfully happy ones, all of them, haven’t they?” He took her in his arms and bent back, lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss. “You are happy, aren’t you Winifred? More than anything else in the world, I want you to be happy. Sometimes, of late, I’ve thought you looked as if you were troubled.”
+
+“No; it’s only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried, Bartley. I wish you always seemed as you do to-night. But you don’t, always.” She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes.
+
+Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own, laughing his big blond laugh.
+
+“I’m growing older, my dear; that’s what you feel. Now, may I show you something? I meant to save them until to-morrow, but I want you to wear them to-night.” He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it. On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold, set with pearls. Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed: — 
+
+“Where did you ever find such gold work, Bartley?”
+
+“It’s old Flemish. Isn’t it fine?”
+
+“They are the most beautiful things, dear. But, you know, I never wear earrings.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know. But I want you to wear them. I have always wanted you to. So few women can. There must be a good ear, to begin with, and a nose” — he waved his hand — “above reproach. Most women look silly in them. They go only with faces like yours — very, very proud, and just a little hard.”
+
+Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears. “Oh, Bartley, that old foolishness about my being hard. It really hurts my feelings. But I must go down now. People are beginning to come.”
+
+Bartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her. “Not hard to me, Winifred,” he whispered. “Never, never hard to me.”
+
+Left alone, he paced up and down his study. He was at home again, among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years. His house to-night would be full of charming people, who liked and admired him. Yet all the time, underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction, he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement. Amid this light and warmth and friendliness, he sometimes started and shuddered, as if some one had stepped on his grave. Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful, and that it wrung and tortured him. Sometimes it came upon him softly, in enervating reveries. Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel. Always, now, it brought with it a sense of quickened life, of stimulating danger. To-night it came upon him suddenly, as he was walking the floor, after his wife left him. It seemed impossible; he could not believe it. He glanced entreatingly at the door, as if to call her back. He heard voices in the hall below, and knew that he must go down. Going over to the window, he looked out at the lights across the river. How could this happen here, in his own house, among the things he loved? What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him? As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass, breathing in the chill that came through it. “That this,” he groaned, “that this should have happened to me!”
+
+On New Year’s day a thaw set in, and during the night torrents of rain fell. In the morning, the morning of Alexander’s departure for England, the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfast-room. Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down. His wife sat at the table, watching him. She was pale and unnaturally calm. When Thomas brought the letters, Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly.
+
+“Here’s a note from old Wilson. He’s safe back at his grind, and says he had a bully time. ‘The memory of Mrs. Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant.’ Just like him. He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire. What a man he is for looking on at life!” Bartley sighed, pushed the letters back impatiently, and went over to the window. “This is a nasty sort of day to sail. I’ve a notion to call it off. Next week would be time enough.”
+
+“That would only mean starting twice. It wouldn’t really help you out at all,” Mrs. Alexander spoke soothingly. “And you’d come back late for all your engagements.”
+
+Bartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket. “I wish things would let me rest. I’m tired of work, tired of people, tired of trailing about.” He looked out at the storm-beaten river.
+
+Winifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s what you always say, poor Bartley! At bottom you really like all these things. Can’t you remember that?”
+
+He put his arm about her. “All the same, life runs smoothly enough with some people, and with me it’s always a messy sort of patchwork. It’s like the song; peace is where I am not. How can you face it all with so much fortitude?”
+
+She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired, which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride. “Oh, I faced that long ago, when you were on your first bridge, up at old Allway. I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace, but I decided that I wanted to follow them.”
+
+Bartley and his wife stood silent for a long time; the fire crackled in the grate, the rain beat insistently upon the windows, and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously.
+
+Presently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door. “Shall Edward bring down your trunks, sir?”
+
+“Yes; they are ready. Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table.”
+
+Thomas withdrew, closing the door softly. Bartley turned away from his wife, still holding her hand. “It never gets any easier, Winifred.”
+
+They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside. Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand. His wife bent over him. “Courage,” she said gayly. Bartley rose and rang the bell. Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster. At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change. Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves. His wife held his stick, smiling. Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared. “I’ll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I’ve gone.” He kissed her quickly several times, hurried out of the front door into the rain, and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy, dripping black horses. Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees. As the carriage turned up the hill, he lifted one hand and brought it down violently. “This time” — he spoke aloud and through his set teeth — “this time I’m going to end it!”
+
+On the afternoon of the third day out, Alexander was sitting well to the stern, on the windward side where the chairs were few, his rugs over him and the collar of his fur-lined coat turned up about his ears. The weather had so far been dark and raw. For two hours he had been watching the low, dirty sky and the beating of the heavy rain upon the iron-colored sea. There was a long, oily swell that made exercise laborious. The decks smelled of damp woolens, and the air was so humid that drops of moisture kept gathering upon his hair and mustache. He seldom moved except to brush them away. The great open spaces made him passive and the restlessness of the water quieted him. He intended during the voyage to decide upon a course of action, but he held all this away from him for the present and lay in a blessed gray oblivion. Deep down in him somewhere his resolution was weakening and strengthening, ebbing and flowing. The thing that perturbed him went on as steadily as his pulse, but he was almost unconscious of it. He was submerged in the vast impersonal grayness about him, and at intervals the sidelong roll of the boat measured off time like the ticking of a clock. He felt released from everything that troubled and perplexed him. It was as if he had tricked and outwitted torturing memories, had actually managed to get on board without them. He thought of nothing at all. If his mind now and again picked a face out of the grayness, it was Lucius Wilson’s, or the face of an old schoolmate, forgotten for years; or it was the slim outline of a favorite greyhound he used to hunt jack-rabbits with when he was a boy.
+
+Toward six o’clock the wind rose and tugged at the tarpaulin and brought the swell higher. After dinner Alexander came back to the wet deck, piled his damp rugs over him again, and sat smoking, losing himself in the obliterating blackness and drowsing in the rush of the gale. Before he went below a few bright stars were pricked off between heavily moving masses of cloud.
+
+The next morning was bright and mild, with a fresh breeze. Alexander felt the need of exercise even before he came out of his cabin. When he went on deck the sky was blue and blinding, with heavy whiffs of white cloud, smoke-colored at the edges, moving rapidly across it. The water was roughish, a cold, clear indigo breaking into whitecaps. Bartley walked for two hours, and then stretched himself in the sun until lunch-time.
+
+In the afternoon he wrote a long letter to Winifred. Later, as he walked the deck through a splendid golden sunset, his spirits rose continually. It was agreeable to come to himself again after several days of numbness and torpor. He stayed out until the last tinge of violet had faded from the water. There was literally a taste of life on his lips as he sat down to dinner and ordered a bottle of champagne. He was late in finishing his dinner, and drank rather more wine than he had meant to. When he went above, the wind had risen and the deck was almost deserted. As he stepped out of the door a gale lifted his heavy fur coat about his shoulders. He fought his way up the deck with keen exhilaration. The moment he stepped, almost out of breath, behind the shelter of the stern, the wind was cut off, and he felt, like a rush of warm air, a sense of close and intimate companionship. He started back and tore his coat open as if something warm were actually clinging to him beneath it. He hurried up the deck and went into the saloon parlor, full of women who had retreated thither from the sharp wind. He threw himself upon them. He talked delightfully to the older ones and played accompaniments for the younger ones until the last sleepy girl had followed her mother below. Then he went into the smoking-room. He played bridge until two o’clock in the morning, and managed to lose a considerable sum of money without really noticing that he was doing so.
+
+After the break of one fine day the weather was pretty consistently dull. When the low sky thinned a trifle, the pale white spot of a sun did no more than throw a bluish lustre on the water, giving it the dark brightness of newly cut lead. Through one after another of those gray days Alexander drowsed and mused, drinking in the grateful moisture. But the complete peace of the first part of the voyage was over. Sometimes he rose suddenly from his chair as if driven out, and paced the deck for hours. People noticed his propensity for walking in rough weather, and watched him curiously as he did his rounds. From his abstraction and the determined set of his jaw, they fancied he must be thinking about his bridge. Every one had heard of the new cantilever bridge in Canada.
+
+But Alexander was not thinking about his work. After the fourth night out, when his will suddenly softened under his hands, he had been continually hammering away at himself. More and more often, when he first wakened in the morning or when he stepped into a warm place after being chilled on the deck, he felt a sudden painful delight at being nearer another shore. Sometimes when he was most despondent, when he thought himself worn out with this struggle, in a flash he was free of it and leaped into an overwhelming consciousness of himself. On the instant he felt that marvelous return of the impetuousness, the intense excitement, the increasing expectancy of youth.
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The last two days of the voyage Bartley found almost intolerable. The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mersey, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience. He had planned to stop in Liverpool; but, instead, he took the boat train for London.
+
+Emerging at Euston at half-past three o’clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. When Marie met him at the door, even her strong sense of the proprieties could not restrain her surprise and delight. She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda’s living-room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. “Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire; you’re chilled through.”
+
+She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire, and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl.
+
+“When did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven’t spoken a word.”
+
+“I got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.”
+
+Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity.
+
+“There’s something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?”
+
+Bartley bent lower over the fire. “It’s the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.”
+
+Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash.
+
+“What about us, Bartley?” she asked in a thin voice.
+
+He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word: — 
+
+“Everything!”
+
+Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool.
+
+“I’ll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,” she said tremulously. “I can’t stand seeing you miserable.”
+
+“I can’t live with myself any longer,” he answered roughly.
+
+He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.
+
+Hilda watched him from her corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes.
+
+“It . . . it hasn’t always made you miserable, has it?” Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered.
+
+“Always. But it’s worse now. It’s unbearable. It tortures me every minute.”
+
+“But why now?” she asked piteously, wringing her hands.
+
+He ignored her question. “I am not a man who can live two lives,” he went on feverishly. “Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can’t get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything.”
+
+At that word “deception,” spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda’s face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her.
+
+“Could you — could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend, and not some one who had to be defied?”
+
+He dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire. “It was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.”
+
+He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire.
+
+She crept across to him, drawing her stool after her. “When did you first begin to feel like this, Bartley?”
+
+“After the very first. The first was — sort of in play, wasn’t it?”
+
+Hilda’s face quivered, but she whispered: “Yes, I think it must have been. But why didn’t you tell me when you were here in the summer?”
+
+Alexander groaned. “I meant to, but somehow I couldn’t. We had only a few days, and your new play was just on, and you were so happy.”
+
+“Yes, I was happy, wasn’t I?” She pressed his hand gently in gratitude. “Weren’t you happy then, at all?”
+
+She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days. Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander, too. He moved uneasily and his chair creaked.
+
+“Yes, I was then. You know. But afterward. . .”
+
+“Yes, yes,” she hurried, pulling her hand gently away from him. Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve. “Please tell me one thing, Bartley. At least, tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy.”
+
+His hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves. “Yes, Hilda; I know that,” he said simply.
+
+She leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly: — 
+
+“You see, my mistake was in wanting you to have everything. I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them, too. I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you. I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful — to have all the things that a great man ought to have, and, once in a way, the careless holidays that great men are not permitted.”
+
+Bartley gave a bitter little laugh, and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together.
+
+“I understand, Bartley. I was wrong. But I didn’t know. You’ve only to tell me now. What must I do that I’ve not done, or what must I not do?” She listened intently, but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair. “You want me to say it?” she whispered. “You want to tell me that you can only see me like this, as old friends do, or out in the world among people? I can do that.”
+
+“I can’t,” he said heavily.
+
+Hilda shivered and sat still. Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth. “It’s got to be a clean break, Hilda. I can’t see you at all, anywhere. What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again, no matter how often I come, no matter how hard I beg.”
+
+Hilda sprang up like a flame. She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side, her body rigid.
+
+“No!” she gasped. “It’s too late to ask that. Do you hear me, Bartley? It’s too late. I won’t promise. It’s abominable of you to ask me. Keep away if you wish; when have I ever followed you? But, if you come to me, I’ll do as I see fit. The shamefulness of your asking me to do that! If you come to me, I’ll do as I see fit. Do you understand? Bartley, you’re cowardly!”
+
+Alexander rose and shook himself angrily. “Yes, I know I’m cowardly. I’m afraid of myself. I don’t trust myself any more. I carried it all lightly enough at first, but now I don’t dare trifle with it. It’s getting the better of me. It’s different now. I’m growing older, and you’ve got my young self here with you. It’s through him that I’ve come to wish for you all and all the time.” He took her roughly in his arms. “Do you know what I mean?”
+
+Hilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly. “Oh, Bartley, what am I to do? Why didn’t you let me be angry with you? You ask me to stay away from you because you want me! And I’ve got nobody but you. I will do anything you say — but that! I will ask the least imaginable, but I must have something!”
+
+Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders.
+
+“Just something Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful — can I never make you understand what that means to me?” She pressed his shoulders gently. “You see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. If I’d met you later, if I hadn’t loved you so well — but that’s all over, long ago. Then came all those years without you, lonely and hurt and discouraged; those decent young fellows and poor Mac, and me never heeding — hard as a steel spring. And then you came back, not caring very much, but it made no difference.”
+
+She slid to the floor beside him, as if she were too tired to sit up any longer. Bartley bent over and took her in his arms, kissing her mouth and her wet, tired eyes.
+
+“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” he whispered. “We’ve tortured each other enough for tonight. Forget everything except that I am here.”
+
+“I think I have forgotten everything but that already,” she murmured. “Ah, your dear arms!”
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+During the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard. He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession. He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays, and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home.
+
+The day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one. The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze. When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy, the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright, clear sunshine. London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain. Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks. Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station. His spirits rose with every step, and when he reached Trafalgar Square, blazing in the sun, with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air, he signaled to a hansom, and, before he knew what he was about, told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum.
+
+When he reached Hilda’s apartment she met him, fresh as the morning itself. Her rooms were flooded with sunshine and full of the flowers he had been sending her. She would never let him give her anything else.
+
+“Are you busy this morning, Hilda?” he asked as he sat down, his hat and gloves in his hand.
+
+“Very. I’ve been up and about three hours, working at my part. We open in February, you know.”
+
+“Well, then you’ve worked enough. And so have I. I’ve seen all my men, my packing is done, and I go up to Liverpool this evening. But this morning we are going to have a holiday. What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond? You may not get another day like this all winter. It’s like a fine April day at home. May I use your telephone? I want to order the carriage.”
+
+“Oh, how jolly! There, sit down at the desk. And while you are telephoning I’ll change my dress. I shan’t be long. All the morning papers are on the table.”
+
+Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat.
+
+Bartley rose and inspected her. “Why don’t you wear some of those pink roses?” he asked.
+
+“But they came only this morning, and they have not even begun to open. I was saving them. I am so unconsciously thrifty!” She laughed as she looked about the room. “You’ve been sending me far too many flowers, Bartley. New ones every day. That’s too often; though I do love to open the boxes, and I take good care of them.”
+
+“Why won’t you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of? Or pictures? I know a good deal about pictures.”
+
+Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass. “No, there are some things you can’t do. There’s the carriage. Will you button my gloves for me?”
+
+Bartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove. “How gay your eyes are this morning, Hilda.”
+
+“That’s because I’ve been studying. It always stirs me up a little.”
+
+He pushed the top of the glove up slowly. “When did you learn to take hold of your parts like that?”
+
+“When I had nothing else to think of. Come, the carriage is waiting. What a shocking while you take.”
+
+“I’m in no hurry. We’ve plenty of time.”
+
+They found all London abroad. Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages, from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes. The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly, and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light. The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws.
+
+“I’m not going until to-morrow, you know,” Bartley announced suddenly. “I’ll cut off a day in Liverpool. I haven’t felt so jolly this long while.”
+
+Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad. “I think people were meant to be happy, a little,” she said.
+
+They had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham, where they had sent the carriage. They drove back, with a glorious sunset behind them, toward the distant gold-washed city. It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining, pulsing, special atmosphere; when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds, nacreous veils of pink and amber; when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light, and all the roofs and spires, and one great dome, are floated in golden haze. On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic, and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle.
+
+“It’s like that with us Londoners, too,” Hilda was saying. “Everything is awfully grim and cheerless, our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves. But we can be happier than anybody. We can go mad with joy, as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday. We make the most of our moment.”
+
+She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar, and Bartley looked down at her and laughed.
+
+“You are a plucky one, you.” He patted her glove with his hand. “Yes, you are a plucky one.”
+
+Hilda sighed. “No, I’m not. Not about some things, at any rate. It doesn’t take pluck to fight for one’s moment, but it takes pluck to go without — a lot. More than I have. I can’t help it,” she added fiercely.
+
+After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow. The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it. They stood in long black lines, waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres — short-coated boys, and girls in sailor hats, all shivering and chatting gayly. There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises — in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses, in the street calls, and in the undulating tramp, tramp of the crowd. It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery, and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts.
+
+[See “The Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes. Ed.] [I have placed it at the end for your convenience]
+
+“Seems good to get back, doesn’t it?” Bartley whispered, as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street. “London always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world. You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummy-room, and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this? Three thousand years! Ugh!”
+
+“All the same, I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well. I believe she used to remember,” Hilda said thoughtfully.
+
+“I hope so. Now let’s go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home. I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music’s good there.”
+
+“There are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I love it, and I’ve never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by myself, when I am particularly lonely.”
+
+“Very well, the sole’s good there. How many street pianos there are about to-night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We’ve had five miles of ‘Il Trovatore’ now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too tired?”
+
+“I’m not tired at all. I was just wondering how people can ever die. Why did you remind me of the mummy? Life seems the strongest and most indestructible thing in the world. Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down there, going to good dinners and clubs and theatres, will be dead some day, and not care about anything? I don’t believe it, and I know I shan’t die, ever! You see, I feel too — too powerful!”
+
+The carriage stopped. Bartley sprang out and swung her quickly to the pavement. As he lifted her in his two hands he whispered: “You are — powerful!”
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+The last rehearsal was over, a tedious dress rehearsal which had lasted all day and exhausted the patience of every one who had to do with it. When Hilda had dressed for the street and came out of her dressing-room, she found Hugh MacConnell waiting for her in the corridor.
+
+“The fog’s thicker than ever, Hilda. There have been a great many accidents to-day. It’s positively unsafe for you to be out alone. Will you let me take you home?”
+
+“How good of you, Mac. If you are going with me, I think I’d rather walk. I’ve had no exercise to-day, and all this has made me nervous.”
+
+“I shouldn’t wonder,” said MacConnell dryly. Hilda pulled down her veil and they stepped out into the thick brown wash that submerged St. Martin’s Lane. MacConnell took her hand and tucked it snugly under his arm. “I’m sorry I was such a savage. I hope you didn’t think I made an ass of myself.”
+
+“Not a bit of it. I don’t wonder you were peppery. Those things are awfully trying. How do you think it’s going?”
+
+“Magnificently. That’s why I got so stirred up. We are going to hear from this, both of us. And that reminds me; I’ve got news for you. They are going to begin repairs on the theatre about the middle of March, and we are to run over to New York for six weeks. Bennett told me yesterday that it was decided.”
+
+Hilda looked up delightedly at the tall gray figure beside her. He was the only thing she could see, for they were moving through a dense opaqueness, as if they were walking at the bottom of the ocean.
+
+“Oh, Mac, how glad I am! And they love your things over there, don’t they?”
+
+“Shall you be glad for — any other reason, Hilda?”
+
+MacConnell put his hand in front of her to ward off some dark object. It proved to be only a lamp-post, and they beat in farther from the edge of the pavement.
+
+“What do you mean, Mac?” Hilda asked nervously.
+
+“I was just thinking there might be people over there you’d be glad to see,” he brought out awkwardly. Hilda said nothing, and as they walked on MacConnell spoke again, apologetically: “I hope you don’t mind my knowing about it, Hilda. Don’t stiffen up like that. No one else knows, and I didn’t try to find out anything. I felt it, even before I knew who he was. I knew there was somebody, and that it wasn’t I.”
+
+They crossed Oxford Street in silence, feeling their way. The busses had stopped running and the cab-drivers were leading their horses. When they reached the other side, MacConnell said suddenly, “I hope you are happy.”
+
+“Terribly, dangerously happy, Mac,” — Hilda spoke quietly, pressing the rough sleeve of his greatcoat with her gloved hand.
+
+“You’ve always thought me too old for you, Hilda, — oh, of course you’ve never said just that, — and here this fellow is not more than eight years younger than I. I’ve always felt that if I could get out of my old case I might win you yet. It’s a fine, brave youth I carry inside me, only he’ll never be seen.”
+
+“Nonsense, Mac. That has nothing to do with it. It’s because you seem too close to me, too much my own kind. It would be like marrying Cousin Mike, almost. I really tried to care as you wanted me to, away back in the beginning.”
+
+“Well, here we are, turning out of the Square. You are not angry with me, Hilda? Thank you for this walk, my dear. Go in and get dry things on at once. You’ll be having a great night to-morrow.”
+
+She put out her hand. “Thank you, Mac, for everything. Good-night.”
+
+MacConnell trudged off through the fog, and she went slowly upstairs. Her slippers and dressing gown were waiting for her before the fire. “I shall certainly see him in New York. He will see by the papers that we are coming. Perhaps he knows it already,” Hilda kept thinking as she undressed. “Perhaps he will be at the dock. No, scarcely that; but I may meet him in the street even before he comes to see me.” Marie placed the tea-table by the fire and brought Hilda her letters. She looked them over, and started as she came to one in a handwriting that she did not often see; Alexander had written to her only twice before, and he did not allow her to write to him at all. “Thank you, Marie. You may go now.”
+
+Hilda sat down by the table with the letter in her hand, still unopened. She looked at it intently, turned it over, and felt its thickness with her fingers. She believed that she sometimes had a kind of second-sight about letters, and could tell before she read them whether they brought good or evil tidings. She put this one down on the table in front of her while she poured her tea. At last, with a little shiver of expectancy, she tore open the envelope and read: — 
+
+BOSTON, February — 
+
+MY DEAR HILDA: — 
+
+It is after twelve o’clock. Every one else is in bed and I am sitting alone in my study. I have been happier in this room than anywhere else in the world. Happiness like that makes one insolent. I used to think these four walls could stand against anything. And now I scarcely know myself here. Now I know that no one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person. Two people, when they love each other, grow alike in their tastes and habits and pride, but their moral natures (whatever we may mean by that canting expression) are never welded. The base one goes on being base, and the noble one noble, to the end.
+
+The last week has been a bad one; I have been realizing how things used to be with me. Sometimes I get used to being dead inside, but lately it has been as if a window beside me had suddenly opened, and as if all the smells of spring blew in to me. There is a garden out there, with stars overhead, where I used to walk at night when I had a single purpose and a single heart. I can remember how I used to feel there, how beautiful everything about me was, and what life and power and freedom I felt in myself. When the window opens I know exactly how it would feel to be out there. But that garden is closed to me. How is it, I ask myself, that everything can be so different with me when nothing here has changed? I am in my own house, in my own study, in the midst of all these quiet streets where my friends live. They are all safe and at peace with themselves. But I am never at peace. I feel always on the edge of danger and change.
+
+I keep remembering locoed horses I used to see on the range when I was a boy. They changed like that. We used to catch them and put them up in the corral, and they developed great cunning. They would pretend to eat their oats like the other horses, but we knew they were always scheming to get back at the loco.
+
+It seems that a man is meant to live only one life in this world. When he tries to live a second, he develops another nature. I feel as if a second man had been grafted into me. At first he seemed only a pleasure-loving simpleton, of whose company I was rather ashamed, and whom I used to hide under my coat when I walked the Embankment, in London. But now he is strong and sullen, and he is fighting for his life at the cost of mine. That is his one activity: to grow strong. No creature ever wanted so much to live. Eventually, I suppose, he will absorb me altogether. Believe me, you will hate me then.
+
+And what have you to do, Hilda, with this ugly story? Nothing at all. The little boy drank of the prettiest brook in the forest and he became a stag. I write all this because I can never tell it to you, and because it seems as if I could not keep silent any longer. And because I suffer, Hilda. If any one I loved suffered like this, I’d want to know it. Help me, Hilda!
+
+B.A.
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+On the last Saturday in April, the New York “Times” published an account of the strike complications which were delaying Alexander’s New Jersey bridge, and stated that the engineer himself was in town and at his office on West Tenth Street.
+
+On Sunday, the day after this notice appeared, Alexander worked all day at his Tenth Street rooms. His business often called him to New York, and he had kept an apartment there for years, subletting it when he went abroad for any length of time. Besides his sleeping-room and bath, there was a large room, formerly a painter’s studio, which he used as a study and office. It was furnished with the cast-off possessions of his bachelor days and with odd things which he sheltered for friends of his who followed itinerant and more or less artistic callings. Over the fireplace there was a large old-fashioned gilt mirror. Alexander’s big work-table stood in front of one of the three windows, and above the couch hung the one picture in the room, a big canvas of charming color and spirit, a study of the Luxembourg Gardens in early spring, painted in his youth by a man who had since become a portrait-painter of international renown. He had done it for Alexander when they were students together in Paris.
+
+Sunday was a cold, raw day and a fine rain fell continuously. When Alexander came back from dinner he put more wood on his fire, made himself comfortable, and settled down at his desk, where he began checking over estimate sheets. It was after nine o’clock and he was lighting a second pipe, when he thought he heard a sound at his door. He started and listened, holding the burning match in his hand; again he heard the same sound, like a firm, light tap. He rose and crossed the room quickly. When he threw open the door he recognized the figure that shrank back into the bare, dimly lit hallway. He stood for a moment in awkward constraint, his pipe in his hand.
+
+“Come in,” he said to Hilda at last, and closed the door behind her. He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable. “Won’t you sit down?”
+
+He was standing behind the table, turning over a pile of blueprints nervously. The yellow light from the student’s lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smoking-jacket, but his flushed face and big, hard head were in the shadow. There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again, in the street below, anywhere but where she was.
+
+“Of course I know, Bartley,” she said at last, “that after this you won’t owe me the least consideration. But we sail on Tuesday. I saw that interview in the paper yesterday, telling where you were, and I thought I had to see you. That’s all. Good-night; I’m going now.” She turned and her hand closed on the door-knob.
+
+Alexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm. “Sit down, Hilda; you’re wet through. Let me take off your coat — and your boots; they’re oozing water.” He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes, while Hilda shrank into the chair. “Here, put your feet on this stool. You don’t mean to say you walked down — and without overshoes!”
+
+Hilda hid her face in her hands. “I was afraid to take a cab. Can’t you see, Bartley, that I’m terribly frightened? I’ve been through this a hundred times to-day. Don’t be any more angry than you can help. I was all right until I knew you were in town. If you’d sent me a note, or telephoned me, or anything! But you won’t let me write to you, and I had to see you after that letter, that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home.”
+
+Alexander faced her, resting his arm on the mantel behind him, and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket. “Is this the way you mean to answer it, Hilda?” he asked unsteadily.
+
+She was afraid to look up at him. “Didn’t — didn’t you mean even to say goodby to me, Bartley? Did you mean just to — quit me?” she asked. “I came to tell you that I’m willing to do as you asked me. But it’s no use talking about that now. Give me my things, please.” She put her hand out toward the fender.
+
+Alexander sat down on the arm of her chair. “Did you think I had forgotten you were in town, Hilda? Do you think I kept away by accident? Did you suppose I didn’t know you were sailing on Tuesday? There is a letter for you there, in my desk drawer. It was to have reached you on the steamer. I was all the morning writing it. I told myself that if I were really thinking of you, and not of myself, a letter would be better than nothing. Marks on paper mean something to you.” He paused. “They never did to me.”
+
+Hilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve. “Oh, Bartley! Did you write to me? Why didn’t you telephone me to let me know that you had? Then I wouldn’t have come.”
+
+Alexander slipped his arm about her. “I didn’t know it before, Hilda, on my honor I didn’t, but I believe it was because, deep down in me somewhere, I was hoping I might drive you to do just this. I’ve watched that door all day. I’ve jumped up if the fire crackled. I think I have felt that you were coming.” He bent his face over her hair.
+
+“And I,” she whispered, — “I felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.”
+
+Alexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.
+
+“No, you weren’t mistaken. I’ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.” He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. “What am I to do, Hilda?”
+
+“That’s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I’m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I’ll do it more completely. I’m going to marry.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Oh, it doesn’t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I’m too fond of him.”
+
+Alexander moved restlessly. “Are you joking, Hilda?”
+
+“Indeed I’m not.”
+
+“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
+
+“Yes, I know very well. I’ve thought about it a great deal, and I’ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It’s because they can’t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.”
+
+Alexander flushed angrily. “So it’s better to be at the mercy of a man you don’t love?”
+
+“Under such circumstances, infinitely!”
+
+There was a flash in her eyes that made Alexander’s fall. He got up and went over to the window, threw it open, and leaned out. He heard Hilda moving about behind him. When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots. He went back and stood over her.
+
+“Hilda you’d better think a while longer before you do that. I don’t know what I ought to say, but I don’t believe you’d be happy; truly I don’t. Aren’t you trying to frighten me?”
+
+She tied the knot of the last lacing and put her boot-heel down firmly. “No; I’m telling you what I’ve made up my mind to do. I suppose I would better do it without telling you. But afterward I shan’t have an opportunity to explain, for I shan’t be seeing you again.”
+
+Alexander started to speak, but caught himself. When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it.
+
+“I wouldn’t be so much alarmed if I didn’t know how utterly reckless you can be. Don’t do anything like that rashly.” His face grew troubled. “You wouldn’t be happy. You are not that kind of woman. I’d never have another hour’s peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that.” He took her face between his hands and looked down into it. “You see, you are different, Hilda. Don’t you know you are?” His voice grew softer, his touch more and more tender. “Some women can do that sort of thing, but you — you can love as queens did, in the old time.”
+
+Hilda had heard that soft, deep tone in his voice only once before. She closed her eyes; her lips and eyelids trembled. “Only one, Bartley. Only one. And he threw it back at me a second time.”
+
+She felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly.
+
+“Try him again, Hilda. Try him once again.”
+
+She looked up into his eyes, and hid her face in her hands.
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+On Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer, who had been trying a case in Vermont, was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey. As the day-coaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him, the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a man’s head, with thick rumpled hair. “Curious,” he thought; “that looked like Alexander, but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches?”
+
+It was, indeed, Alexander.
+
+That morning a telegram from Moorlock had reached him, telling him that there was serious trouble with the bridge and that he was needed there at once, so he had caught the first train out of New York. He had taken a seat in a day-coach to avoid the risk of meeting any one he knew, and because he did not wish to be comfortable. When the telegram arrived, Alexander was at his rooms on Tenth Street, packing his bag to go to Boston. On Monday night he had written a long letter to his wife, but when morning came he was afraid to send it, and the letter was still in his pocket. Winifred was not a woman who could bear disappointment. She demanded a great deal of herself and of the people she loved; and she never failed herself. If he told her now, he knew, it would be irretrievable. There would be no going back. He would lose the thing he valued most in the world; he would be destroying himself and his own happiness. There would be nothing for him afterward. He seemed to see himself dragging out a restless existence on the Continent — Cannes, Hyères, Algiers, Cairo — among smartly dressed, disabled men of every nationality; forever going on journeys that led nowhere; hurrying to catch trains that he might just as well miss; getting up in the morning with a great bustle and splashing of water, to begin a day that had no purpose and no meaning; dining late to shorten the night, sleeping late to shorten the day.
+
+And for what? For a mere folly, a masquerade, a little thing that he could not let go. And he could even let it go, he told himself. But he had promised to be in London at mid-summer, and he knew that he would go. . . . It was impossible to live like this any longer.
+
+And this, then, was to be the disaster that his old professor had foreseen for him: the crack in the wall, the crash, the cloud of dust. And he could not understand how it had come about. He felt that he himself was unchanged, that he was still there, the same man he had been five years ago, and that he was sitting stupidly by and letting some resolute offshoot of himself spoil his life for him. This new force was not he, it was but a part of him. He would not even admit that it was stronger than he; but it was more active. It was by its energy that this new feeling got the better of him. His wife was the woman who had made his life, gratified his pride, given direction to his tastes and habits. The life they led together seemed to him beautiful. Winifred still was, as she had always been, Romance for him, and whenever he was deeply stirred he turned to her. When the grandeur and beauty of the world challenged him — as it challenges even the most self-absorbed people — he always answered with her name. That was his reply to the question put by the mountains and the stars; to all the spiritual aspects of life. In his feeling for his wife there was all the tenderness, all the pride, all the devotion of which he was capable. There was everything but energy; the energy of youth which must register itself and cut its name before it passes. This new feeling was so fresh, so unsatisfied and light of foot. It ran and was not wearied, anticipated him everywhere. It put a girdle round the earth while he was going from New York to Moorlock. At this moment, it was tingling through him, exultant, and live as quicksilver, whispering, “In July you will be in England.”
+
+Already he dreaded the long, empty days at sea, the monotonous Irish coast, the sluggish passage up the Mersey, the flash of the boat train through the summer country. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling of rapid motion and to swift, terrifying thoughts. He was sitting so, his face shaded by his hand, when the Boston lawyer saw him from the siding at White River Junction.
+
+When at last Alexander roused himself, the afternoon had waned to sunset. The train was passing through a gray country and the sky overhead was flushed with a wide flood of clear color. There was a rose-colored light over the gray rocks and hills and meadows. Off to the left, under the approach of a weather-stained wooden bridge, a group of boys were sitting around a little fire. The smell of the wood smoke blew in at the window. Except for an old farmer, jogging along the highroad in his box-wagon, there was not another living creature to be seen. Alexander looked back wistfully at the boys, camped on the edge of a little marsh, crouching under their shelter and looking gravely at their fire. They took his mind back a long way, to a campfire on a sandbar in a Western river, and he wished he could go back and sit down with them. He could remember exactly how the world had looked then.
+
+It was quite dark and Alexander was still thinking of the boys, when it occurred to him that the train must be nearing Allway. In going to his new bridge at Moorlock he had always to pass through Allway. The train stopped at Allway Mills, then wound two miles up the river, and then the hollow sound under his feet told Bartley that he was on his first bridge again. The bridge seemed longer than it had ever seemed before, and he was glad when he felt the beat of the wheels on the solid roadbed again. He did not like coming and going across that bridge, or remembering the man who built it. And was he, indeed, the same man who used to walk that bridge at night, promising such things to himself and to the stars? And yet, he could remember it all so well: the quiet hills sleeping in the moonlight, the slender skeleton of the bridge reaching out into the river, and up yonder, alone on the hill, the big white house; upstairs, in Winifred’s window, the light that told him she was still awake and still thinking of him. And after the light went out he walked alone, taking the heavens into his confidence, unable to tear himself away from the white magic of the night, unwilling to sleep because longing was so sweet to him, and because, for the first time since first the hills were hung with moonlight, there was a lover in the world. And always there was the sound of the rushing water underneath, the sound which, more than anything else, meant death; the wearing away of things under the impact of physical forces which men could direct but never circumvent or diminish. Then, in the exaltation of love, more than ever it seemed to him to mean death, the only other thing as strong as love. Under the moon, under the cold, splendid stars, there were only those two things awake and sleepless; death and love, the rushing river and his burning heart.
+
+Alexander sat up and looked about him. The train was tearing on through the darkness. All his companions in the day-coach were either dozing or sleeping heavily, and the murky lamps were turned low. How came he here among all these dirty people? Why was he going to London? What did it mean — what was the answer? How could this happen to a man who had lived through that magical spring and summer, and who had felt that the stars themselves were but flaming particles in the far-away infinitudes of his love?
+
+What had he done to lose it? How could he endure the baseness of life without it? And with every revolution of the wheels beneath him, the unquiet quicksilver in his breast told him that at midsummer he would be in London. He remembered his last night there: the red foggy darkness, the hungry crowds before the theatres, the hand-organs, the feverish rhythm of the blurred, crowded streets, and the feeling of letting himself go with the crowd. He shuddered and looked about him at the poor unconscious companions of his journey, unkempt and travel-stained, now doubled in unlovely attitudes, who had come to stand to him for the ugliness he had brought into the world.
+
+And those boys back there, beginning it all just as he had begun it; he wished he could promise them better luck. Ah, if one could promise any one better luck, if one could assure a single human being of happiness! He had thought he could do so, once; and it was thinking of that that he at last fell asleep. In his sleep, as if it had nothing fresher to work upon, his mind went back and tortured itself with something years and years away, an old, long-forgotten sorrow of his childhood.
+
+When Alexander awoke in the morning, the sun was just rising through pale golden ripples of cloud, and the fresh yellow light was vibrating through the pine woods. The white birches, with their little unfolding leaves, gleamed in the lowlands, and the marsh meadows were already coming to life with their first green, a thin, bright color which had run over them like fire. As the train rushed along the trestles, thousands of wild birds rose screaming into the light. The sky was already a pale blue and of the clearness of crystal. Bartley caught up his bag and hurried through the Pullman coaches until he found the conductor. There was a stateroom unoccupied, and he took it and set about changing his clothes. Last night he would not have believed that anything could be so pleasant as the cold water he dashed over his head and shoulders and the freshness of clean linen on his body.
+
+After he had dressed, Alexander sat down at the window and drew into his lungs deep breaths of the pine-scented air. He had awakened with all his old sense of power. He could not believe that things were as bad with him as they had seemed last night, that there was no way to set them entirely right. Even if he went to London at midsummer, what would that mean except that he was a fool? And he had been a fool before. That was not the reality of his life. Yet he knew that he would go to London.
+
+Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock. Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding, waving to Philip Horton, one of his assistants, who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches. Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet.
+
+“I’ll have my coffee first, Philip. Have you had yours? And now, what seems to be the matter up here?”
+
+The young man, in a hurried, nervous way, began his explanation.
+
+But Alexander cut him short. “When did you stop work?” he asked sharply.
+
+The young engineer looked confused. “I haven’t stopped work yet, Mr. Alexander. I didn’t feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you.”
+
+“Then why didn’t you say in your telegram exactly what you thought, and ask for your authorization? You’d have got it quick enough.”
+
+“Well, really, Mr. Alexander, I couldn’t be absolutely sure, you know, and I didn’t like to take the responsibility of making it public.”
+
+Alexander pushed back his chair and rose. “Anything I do can be made public, Phil. You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain, and that even the workmen have been talking about it, and yet you’ve gone on adding weight.”
+
+“I’m sorry, Mr. Alexander, but I had counted on your getting here yesterday. My first telegram missed you somehow. I sent one Sunday evening, to the same address, but it was returned to me.”
+
+“Have you a carriage out there? I must stop to send a wire.”
+
+Alexander went up to the telegraph-desk and penciled the following message to his wife: — 
+
+I may have to be here for some time. Can you come up at once? Urgent.
+
+BARTLEY.
+
+The Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town. When they were seated in the carriage, Alexander began to question his assistant further. If it were true that the compression members showed strain, with the bridge only two thirds done, then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again. Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates.
+
+Alexander grew impatient. “That’s all true, Phil, but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length. It’s all very well on paper, but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice. I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me. It’s all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know they’re not sound.”
+
+“But just now, when there is such competition,” the younger man demurred. “And certainly that’s the new line of development.”
+
+Alexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply.
+
+When they reached the bridge works, Alexander began his examination immediately. An hour later he sent for the superintendent. “I think you had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and we’ve put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out well enough, but it had never actually been tried.” Alexander put on his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm. “Don’t look so chopfallen, Dan. It’s a jolt, but we’ve got to face it. It isn’t the end of the world, you know. Now we’ll go out and call the men off quietly. They’re already nervous, Horton tells me, and there’s no use alarming them. I’ll go with you, and we’ll send the end riveters in first.”
+
+Alexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the long span. They went deliberately, stopping to see what each gang was doing, as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection. When they reached the end of the river span, Alexander nodded to the superintendent, who quietly gave an order to the foreman. The men in the end gang picked up their tools and, glancing curiously at each other, started back across the bridge toward the river-bank. Alexander himself remained standing where they had been working, looking about him. It was hard to believe, as he looked back over it, that the whole great span was incurably disabled, was already as good as condemned, because something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm.
+
+The end riveters had reached the bank and were dispersing among the tool-houses, and the second gang had picked up their tools and were starting toward the shore. Alexander, still standing at the end of the river span, saw the lower chord of the cantilever arm give a little, like an elbow bending. He shouted and ran after the second gang, but by this time every one knew that the big river span was slowly settling. There was a burst of shouting that was immediately drowned by the scream and cracking of tearing iron, as all the tension work began to pull asunder. Once the chords began to buckle, there were thousands of tons of ironwork, all riveted together and lying in midair without support. It tore itself to pieces with roaring and grinding and noises that were like the shrieks of a steam whistle. There was no shock of any kind; the bridge had no impetus except from its own weight. It lurched neither to right nor left, but sank almost in a vertical line, snapping and breaking and tearing as it went, because no integral part could bear for an instant the enormous strain loosed upon it. Some of the men jumped and some ran, trying to make the shore.
+
+At the first shriek of the tearing iron, Alexander jumped from the downstream side of the bridge. He struck the water without injury and disappeared. He was under the river a long time and had great difficulty in holding his breath. When it seemed impossible, and his chest was about to heave, he thought he heard his wife telling him that he could hold out a little longer. An instant later his face cleared the water. For a moment, in the depths of the river, he had realized what it would mean to die a hypocrite, and to lie dead under the last abandonment of her tenderness. But once in the light and air, he knew he should live to tell her and to recover all he had lost. Now, at last, he felt sure of himself. He was not startled. It seemed to him that he had been through something of this sort before. There was nothing horrible about it. This, too, was life, and life was activity, just as it was in Boston or in London. He was himself, and there was something to be done; everything seemed perfectly natural. Alexander was a strong swimmer, but he had gone scarcely a dozen strokes when the bridge itself, which had been settling faster and faster, crashed into the water behind him. Immediately the river was full of drowning men. A gang of French Canadians fell almost on top of him. He thought he had cleared them, when they began coming up all around him, clutching at him and at each other. Some of them could swim, but they were either hurt or crazed with fright. Alexander tried to beat them off, but there were too many of them. One caught him about the neck, another gripped him about the middle, and they went down together. When he sank, his wife seemed to be there in the water beside him, telling him to keep his head, that if he could hold out the men would drown and release him. There was something he wanted to tell his wife, but he could not think clearly for the roaring in his ears. Suddenly he remembered what it was. He caught his breath, and then she let him go.
+
+The work of recovering the dead went on all day and all the following night. By the next morning forty-eight bodies had been taken out of the river, but there were still twenty missing. Many of the men had fallen with the bridge and were held down under the debris. Early on the morning of the second day a closed carriage was driven slowly along the river-bank and stopped a little below the works, where the river boiled and churned about the great iron carcass which lay in a straight line two thirds across it. The carriage stood there hour after hour, and word soon spread among the crowds on the shore that its occupant was the wife of the Chief Engineer; his body had not yet been found. The widows of the lost workmen, moving up and down the bank with shawls over their heads, some of them carrying babies, looked at the rusty hired hack many times that morning. They drew near it and walked about it, but none of them ventured to peer within. Even half-indifferent sightseers dropped their voices as they told a newcomer: “You see that carriage over there? That’s Mrs. Alexander. They haven’t found him yet. She got off the train this morning. Horton met her. She heard it in Boston yesterday — heard the newsboys crying it in the street.”
+
+At noon Philip Horton made his way through the crowd with a tray and a tin coffee-pot from the camp kitchen. When he reached the carriage he found Mrs. Alexander just as he had left her in the early morning, leaning forward a little, with her hand on the lowered window, looking at the river. Hour after hour she had been watching the water, the lonely, useless stone towers, and the convulsed mass of iron wreckage over which the angry river continually spat up its yellow foam.
+
+“Those poor women out there, do they blame him very much?” she asked, as she handed the coffee-cup back to Horton.
+
+“Nobody blames him, Mrs. Alexander. If any one is to blame, I’m afraid it’s I. I should have stopped work before he came. He said so as soon as I met him. I tried to get him here a day earlier, but my telegram missed him, somehow. He didn’t have time really to explain to me. If he’d got here Monday, he’d have had all the men off at once. But, you see, Mrs. Alexander, such a thing never happened before. According to all human calculations, it simply couldn’t happen.”
+
+Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab. He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours, and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off.
+
+“Don’t be afraid to tell me the worst, Mr. Horton. Don’t leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying. If he is blamed, if he needs any one to speak for him,” — for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life, tearful, painful, and confused, swept over her rigid pallor, — “if he needs any one, tell me, show me what to do.” She began to sob, and Horton hurried away.
+
+When he came back at four o’clock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand, and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley. She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground.
+
+Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly: “Won’t you drive up to my house, Mrs. Alexander? They will take him up there.”
+
+“Take me to him now, please. I shall not make any trouble.”
+
+The group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming, and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher. They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached, and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her. She was taller than Horton, and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen. “As tall as himself,” some one whispered. Horton motioned to the men, and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment. Winifred followed them the half-mile to Horton’s house. She walked quietly, without once breaking or stumbling. When the bearers put the stretcher down in Horton’s spare bedroom, she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn. The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands. They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill.
+
+Horton himself was almost as deeply perplexed. “Mamie,” he said to his wife, when he came out of the spare room half an hour later, “will you take Mrs. Alexander the things she needs? She is going to do everything herself. Just stay about where you can hear her and go in if she wants you.”
+
+Everything happened as Alexander had foreseen in that moment of prescience under the river. With her own hands she washed him clean of every mark of disaster. All night he was alone with her in the still house, his great head lying deep in the pillow. In the pocket of his coat Winifred found the letter that he had written her the night before he left New York, water-soaked and illegible, but because of its length, she knew it had been meant for her.
+
+For Alexander death was an easy creditor. Fortune, which had smiled upon him consistently all his life, did not desert him in the end. His harshest critics did not doubt that, had he lived, he would have retrieved himself. Even Lucius Wilson did not see in this accident the disaster he had once foretold.
+
+When a great man dies in his prime there is no surgeon who can say whether he did well; whether or not the future was his, as it seemed to be. The mind that society had come to regard as a powerful and reliable machine, dedicated to its service, may for a long time have been sick within itself and bent upon its own destruction.
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+Professor Wilson had been living in London for six years and he was just back from a visit to America. One afternoon, soon after his return, he put on his frock-coat and drove in a hansom to pay a call upon Hilda Burgoyne, who still lived at her old number, off Bedford Square. He and Miss Burgoyne had been fast friends for a long time. He had first noticed her about the corridors of the British Museum, where he read constantly. Her being there so often had made him feel that he would like to know her, and as she was not an inaccessible person, an introduction was not difficult. The preliminaries once over, they came to depend a great deal upon each other, and Wilson, after his day’s reading, often went round to Bedford Square for his tea. They had much more in common than their memories of a common friend. Indeed, they seldom spoke of him. They saved that for the deep moments which do not come often, and then their talk of him was mostly silence. Wilson knew that Hilda had loved him; more than this he had not tried to know.
+
+It was late when Wilson reached Hilda’s apartment on this particular December afternoon, and he found her alone. She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable, as she had such a knack of making people comfortable.
+
+“How good you were to come back before Christmas! I quite dreaded the Holidays without you. You’ve helped me over a good many Christmases.” She smiled at him gayly.
+
+“As if you needed me for that! But, at any rate, I needed you. How well you are looking, my dear, and how rested.”
+
+He peered up at her from his low chair, balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years.
+
+Hilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream. “That means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season, doesn’t it? Well, we must show wear at last, you know.”
+
+Wilson took the cup gratefully. “Ah, no need to remind a man of seventy, who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries. I was most gently treated — as a sort of precious relic. But, do you know, it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still.”
+
+“Seventy? Never mention it to me.” Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professor’s alert face, with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes. “You’ve got to hang about for me, you know. I can’t even let you go home again. You must stay put, now that I have you back. You’re the realest thing I have.”
+
+Wilson chuckled. “Dear me, am I? Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities! You’ve really missed me? Well, then, I shall hang. Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummy-room with the others. You’ll visit me often, won’t you?”
+
+“Every day in the calendar. Here, your cigarettes are in this drawer, where you left them.” She struck a match and lit one for him. “But you did, after all, enjoy being at home again?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I found the long railway journeys trying. People live a thousand miles apart. But I did it thoroughly; I was all over the place. It was in Boston I lingered longest.”
+
+“Ah, you saw Mrs. Alexander?”
+
+“Often. I dined with her, and had tea there a dozen different times, I should think. Indeed, it was to see her that I lingered on and on. I found that I still loved to go to the house. It always seemed as if Bartley were there, somehow, and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs. Do you know, I kept feeling that he must be up in his study.” The Professor looked reflectively into the grate. “I should really have liked to go up there. That was where I had my last long talk with him. But Mrs. Alexander never suggested it.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+Wilson was a little startled by her tone, and he turned his head so quickly that his cuff-link caught the string of his nose-glasses and pulled them awry. “Why? Why, dear me, I don’t know. She probably never thought of it.”
+
+Hilda bit her lip. “I don’t know what made me say that. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on please, and tell me how it was.”
+
+“Well, it was like that. Almost as if he were there. In a way, he really is there. She never lets him go. It’s the most beautiful and dignified sorrow I’ve ever known. It’s so beautiful that it has its compensations, I should think. Its very completeness is a compensation. It gives her a fixed star to steer by. She doesn’t drift. We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room, and watched the sunset burn on the river, and felt him. Felt him with a difference, of course.”
+
+Hilda leaned forward, her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. “With a difference? Because of her, you mean?”
+
+Wilson’s brow wrinkled. “Something like that, yes. Of course, as time goes on, to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation.”
+
+Hilda studied the droop of the Professor’s head intently. “You didn’t altogether like that? You felt it wasn’t wholly fair to him?”
+
+Wilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses. “Oh, fair enough. More than fair. Of course, I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers. No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person. And I liked him just as he was; his deviations, too; the places where he didn’t square.”
+
+Hilda considered vaguely. “Has she grown much older?” she asked at last.
+
+“Yes, and no. In a tragic way she is even handsomer. But colder. Cold for everything but him. ‘Forget thyself to marble’; I kept thinking of that. Her happiness was a happiness à deux, not apart from the world, but actually against it. And now her grief is like that. She saves herself for it and doesn’t even go through the form of seeing people much. I’m sorry. It would be better for her, and might be so good for them, if she could let other people in.”
+
+“Perhaps she’s afraid of letting him out a little, of sharing him with somebody.”
+
+Wilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm. “Dear me, it takes a woman to think of that, now! I don’t, you know, think we ought to be hard on her. More, even, than the rest of us she didn’t choose her destiny. She underwent it. And it has left her chilled. As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence — well, it is a pretty brutal and stupid world, after all, you know.”
+
+Hilda leaned forward. “Yes, I know, I know. Only I can’t help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people. My little Marie worshiped him. When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture.”
+
+Wilson nodded. “Oh, yes! He left an echo. The ripples go on in all of us. He belonged to the people who make the play, and most of us are only onlookers at the best. We shouldn’t wonder too much at Mrs. Alexander. She must feel how useless it would be to stir about, that she may as well sit still; that nothing can happen to her after Bartley.”
+
+“Yes,” said Hilda softly, “nothing can happen to one after Bartley.”
+
+They both sat looking into the fire.
+
+THE BARREL ORGAN by Alfred Noyes
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; And the music’s not immortal; but the world has made it sweet And fulfilled it with the sunset glow; And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light; And they’ve given it a glory and a part to play again In the Symphony that rules the day and the night.
+
+And now it’s marching onward through the realms of old romance, And trolling out a fond familiar tune, And now it’s roaring cannon down to fight the King of France, And now it’s prattling softly to the moon, And all around the organ there’s a sea without a shore Of human joys and wonders and regrets; To remember and to recompense the music evermore For what the cold machinery forgets. . . .
+
+Yes; as the music changes, Like a prismatic glass, It takes the light and ranges Through all the moods that pass; Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets, And gives the world a glimpse of all The colors it forgets.
+
+And there La Traviata sights Another sadder song; And there Il Trovatore cries A tale of deeper wrong; And bolder knights to battle go With sword and shield and lance, Than ever here on earth below Have whirled into — a dance! — 
+
+Go down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
+
+The cherry-trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume, The cherry-trees are seas of bloom (and oh, so near to London!) And there they say, when dawn is high and all the world’s a blaze of sky The cuckoo, though he’s very shy, will sing a song for London.
+
+The nightingale is rather rare and yet they say you’ll hear him there At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!) The linnet and the throstle, too, and after dark the long halloo And golden-eyed tu-whit, tu whoo of owls that ogle London.
+
+For Noah hardly knew a bird of any kind that isn’t heard At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!) And when the rose begins to pout and all the chestnut spires are out You’ll hear the rest without a doubt, all chorusing for London: — 
+
+Come down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
+
+And then the troubadour begins to thrill the golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; And in all the gaudy busses there are scores of weary feet Marking time, sweet time, with a dull mechanic beat, And a thousand hearts are plunging to a love they’ll never meet, Through the meadows of the sunset, through the poppies and the wheat, In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+Verdi, Verdi, when you wrote Il Trovatore did you dream Of the City when the sun sinks low Of the organ and the monkey and the many-colored stream On the Piccadilly pavement, of the myriad eyes that seem To be litten for a moment with a wild Italian gleam As A che la morte parodies the world’s eternal theme And pulses with the sunset glow?
+
+There’s a thief, perhaps, that listens with a face of frozen stone In the City as the sun sinks low; There’s a portly man of business with a balance of his own, There’s a clerk and there’s a butcher of a soft reposeful tone, And they’re all them returning to the heavens they have known: They are crammed and jammed in busses and — they’re each of them alone In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a very modish woman and her smile is very bland In the City as the sun sinks low; And her hansom jingles onward, but her little jeweled hand Is clenched a little tighter and she cannot understand What she wants or why she wanders to that undiscovered land, For the parties there are not at all the sort of thing she planned, In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s an Oxford man that listens and his heart is crying out In the City as the sun sinks low; For the barge the eight, the Isis, and the coach’s whoop and shout, For the minute gun, the counting and the long disheveled rout, For the howl along the tow-path and a fate that’s still in doubt, For a roughened oar to handle and a race to think about In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a laborer that listen to the voices of the dead In the City as the sun sinks low; And his hand begins to tremble and his face is rather red As he sees a loafer watching him and — there he turns his head And stares into the sunset where his April love is fled, For he hears her softly singing and his lonely soul is led Through the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s and old and hardened demi-rep, it’s ringing in her ears, In the City as the sun sinks low; With the wild and empty sorrow of the love that blights and sears, Oh, and if she hurries onward, then be sure, be sure she hears, Hears and bears the bitter burden of the unforgotten years, And her laugh’s a little harsher and her eyes are brimmed with tears For the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks low; Though the music’s only Verdi there’s a world to make it sweet Just as yonder yellow sunset where the earth and heaven meet Mellows all the sooty City! Hark, a hundred thousand feet Are marching on to glory through the poppies and the wheat In the land where the dead dreams go.
+
+So it’s Jeremiah, Jeremiah, What have you to say When you meet the garland girls Tripping on their way?
+
+All around my gala hat I wear a wreath of roses (A long and lonely year it is I’ve waited for the May!)
+
+If any one should ask you, The reason why I wear it is, My own love, my true love, is coming home to-day.
+
+It’s buy a bunch of violets for the lady (It’s lilac time in London; it’s lilac time in London!) Buy a bunch of violets for the lady; While the sky burns blue above:
+
+On the other side of the street you’ll find it shady (It’s lilac time in London; it’s lilac time in London!) But buy a bunch of violets for the lady; And tell her she’s your own true love.
+
+There’s a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street, In the City as the sun sinks glittering and slow; And the music’s not immortal, but the world has made it sweet And enriched it with the harmonies that make a song complete In the deeper heavens of music where the night and morning meet, As it dies into the sunset glow;
+
+And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light, And they’ve given it a glory and a part of play again In the Symphony that rules the day and night.
+
+And there, as the music changes, The song runs round again; Once more it turns and ranges Through all its joy and pain: Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets; And the wheeling world remembers all The wheeling song forgets.
+
+Once more La Traviata sighs Another sadder song: Once more Il Trovatore cries A tale of deeper wrong; Once more the knights to battle go With sword and shield and lance, Till once, once more, the shattered foe Has whirled into — a dance! — 
+
+Come down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland; Come down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn’t far from London!)
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json b/test/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..f209ed25eee7e5de0371be4e2a40363aee84cd50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/2374/3005/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "2374/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "3005/adventures_huckleberryfinn_ver03_0904_64kb_mp3/huckleberryfinn_34_twain_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "3005", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cIn that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didn\u2019t you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?\u201d", "start_byte": 454870, "end_byte": 455006, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 39.20000076293945, "end_time": 48.15999984741211, "cut_start_time": 39.61500076293945, "cut_end_time": 47.92000076293945, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 455008, "end_byte": 455014, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 48.15999984741211, "end_time": 49.52000045776367, "cut_start_time": 48.224999847412114, "cut_end_time": 49.60012484741211, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhat did you think the vittles was for?\u201d", "start_byte": 455016, "end_byte": 455057, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 49.52000045776367, "end_time": 52.279998779296875, "cut_start_time": 49.60500045776367, "cut_end_time": 52.31000045776367, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cFor a dog.\u201d", "start_byte": 455059, "end_byte": 455071, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 52.279998779296875, "end_time": 53.68000030517578, "cut_start_time": 52.264998779296874, "cut_end_time": 53.660123779296875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cSo\u2019d I. Well, it wasn\u2019t for a dog.\u201d", "start_byte": 455073, "end_byte": 455109, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 53.68000030517578, "end_time": 57.15999984741211, "cut_start_time": 53.88500030517578, "cut_end_time": 57.12000030517578, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy?\u201d", "start_byte": 455111, "end_byte": 455117, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 57.15999984741211, "end_time": 58.119998931884766, "cut_start_time": 57.154999847412114, "cut_end_time": 58.21006234741211, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cBecause part of it was watermelon.\u201d", "start_byte": 455119, "end_byte": 455155, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 58.119998931884766, "end_time": 61.08000183105469, "cut_start_time": 58.144998931884764, "cut_end_time": 60.95012393188477, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cSo it was \u2014 I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don\u2019t see at the same time.\u201d", "start_byte": 455157, "end_byte": 455323, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 61.08000183105469, "end_time": 72.91999816894531, "cut_start_time": 61.535001831054686, "cut_end_time": 73.02000183105469, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up from table \u2014 same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; and it ain\u2019t likely there\u2019s two prisoners on such a little plantation, and where the people\u2019s all so kind and good. Jim\u2019s the prisoner. All right \u2014 I\u2019m glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn\u2019t give shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we\u2019ll take the one we like the best.\u201d", "start_byte": 455325, "end_byte": 455908, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 72.91999816894531, "end_time": 112.16000366210938, "cut_start_time": 72.95499816894531, "cut_end_time": 112.23012316894531, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cReady?\u201d", "start_byte": 456242, "end_byte": 456250, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 135.32000732421875, "end_time": 136.1999969482422, "cut_start_time": 135.41500732421875, "cut_end_time": 135.90000732421873, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes,", "start_byte": 456252, "end_byte": 456257, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 136.1999969482422, "end_time": 136.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 136.52499694824218, "cut_end_time": 136.90012194824217, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAll right \u2014 bring it out.\u201d", "start_byte": 456268, "end_byte": 456295, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 137.75999450683594, "end_time": 139.72000122070312, "cut_start_time": 137.94499450683594, "cut_end_time": 139.34011950683592, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cMy plan is this,", "start_byte": 456297, "end_byte": 456314, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 139.72000122070312, "end_time": 141.0399932861328, "cut_start_time": 140.06500122070312, "cut_end_time": 141.1400012207031, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWe can easy find out if it\u2019s Jim in there. Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the old man\u2019s britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim used to do before. Wouldn\u2019t that plan work?\u201d", "start_byte": 456324, "end_byte": 456699, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 141.9199981689453, "end_time": 165.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 142.1249981689453, "cut_end_time": 165.6100606689453, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWork? Why, cert\u2019nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it\u2019s too blame\u2019 simple; there ain\u2019t nothing to it. What\u2019s the good of a plan that ain\u2019t no more trouble than that? It\u2019s as mild as goose-milk. Why, Huck, it wouldn\u2019t make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory.\u201d", "start_byte": 456701, "end_byte": 456982, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 165.63999938964844, "end_time": 184.39999389648438, "cut_start_time": 165.69499938964844, "cut_end_time": 184.10006188964843, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t you reckon I know what I\u2019m about? Don\u2019t I generly know what I\u2019m about?\u201d", "start_byte": 458481, "end_byte": 458559, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 277.0799865722656, "end_time": 282.1600036621094, "cut_start_time": 277.44498657226563, "cut_end_time": 281.78011157226564, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 458561, "end_byte": 458567, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 282.1600036621094, "end_time": 283.20001220703125, "cut_start_time": 282.1450036621094, "cut_end_time": 283.3000661621094, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDidn\u2019t I say I was going to help steal the nigger?\u201d", "start_byte": 458569, "end_byte": 458621, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 283.20001220703125, "end_time": 286.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 283.18501220703126, "cut_end_time": 285.9100122070313, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 458623, "end_byte": 458629, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 286.2799987792969, "end_time": 287.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 286.5249987792969, "cut_end_time": 287.2600612792969, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, then.\u201d", "start_byte": 458631, "end_byte": 458644, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 287.3999938964844, "end_time": 288.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 287.5949938964844, "cut_end_time": 288.3901188964844, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cHere\u2019s the ticket. This hole\u2019s big enough for Jim to get through if we wrench off the board.\u201d", "start_byte": 459500, "end_byte": 459594, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 339.9599914550781, "end_time": 345.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 340.32499145507813, "cut_end_time": 344.9200539550782, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as playing hooky. I should hope we can find a way that\u2019s a little more complicated than that, Huck Finn.\u201d", "start_byte": 459607, "end_byte": 459772, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 346.9599914550781, "end_time": 357.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 347.32499145507813, "cut_end_time": 357.27011645507815, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, then,", "start_byte": 459774, "end_byte": 459786, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 357.760009765625, "end_time": 358.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 358.315009765625, "cut_end_time": 358.820072265625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201chow\u2019ll it do to saw him out, the way I done before I was murdered that time?\u201d", "start_byte": 459796, "end_byte": 459874, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 359.79998779296875, "end_time": 364.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 360.04498779296875, "cut_end_time": 364.0301127929688, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cThat\u2019s more like,", "start_byte": 459876, "end_byte": 459894, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 364.6400146484375, "end_time": 366.0, "cut_start_time": 364.90501464843754, "cut_end_time": 366.0000146484375, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cIt\u2019s real mysterious, and troublesome, and good,", "start_byte": 459905, "end_byte": 459954, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 366.79998779296875, "end_time": 370.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 367.0249877929688, "cut_end_time": 370.2401127929688, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cbut I bet we can find a way that\u2019s twice as long. There ain\u2019t no hurry; le\u2019s keep on looking around.\u201d", "start_byte": 459965, "end_byte": 460067, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 371.32000732421875, "end_time": 377.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 371.75500732421875, "cut_end_time": 377.7200073242188, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cNow we\u2019re all right. We\u2019ll dig him out. It\u2019ll take about a week!\u201d", "start_byte": 460912, "end_byte": 460978, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 428.8800048828125, "end_time": 433.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 429.08500488281254, "cut_end_time": 433.3100673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhat\u2019s the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?\u201d", "start_byte": 462385, "end_byte": 462434, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 516.239990234375, "end_time": 519.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 516.504990234375, "cut_end_time": 519.480115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, Mars Sid, a dog. Cur\u2019us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at \u2019im?\u201d", "start_byte": 462556, "end_byte": 462632, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 527.4000244140625, "end_time": 533.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 527.4650244140626, "cut_end_time": 533.1400244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes.\u201d", "start_byte": 462634, "end_byte": 462640, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 533.5999755859375, "end_time": 534.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 533.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 534.5700380859375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYou going, right here in the daybreak? That warn\u2019t the plan.\u201d", "start_byte": 462672, "end_byte": 462734, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 536.8800048828125, "end_time": 541.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 537.0350048828125, "cut_end_time": 540.7900048828125, "narrative_prediction": {"whispers": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cNo, it warn\u2019t; but it\u2019s the plan now.\u201d", "start_byte": 462736, "end_byte": 462775, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 541.0399780273438, "end_time": 544.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 541.2549780273438, "cut_end_time": 543.9701030273437, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, Huck! En good lan\u2019! ain\u2019 dat Misto Tom?\u201d", "start_byte": 462966, "end_byte": 463012, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 557.1199951171875, "end_time": 562.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 557.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 561.8600576171875, "narrative_prediction": {"sings": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?\u201d", "start_byte": 463170, "end_byte": 463219, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 571.9199829101562, "end_time": 575.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 572.0849829101563, "cut_end_time": 575.1001079101562, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cDoes who know us?\u201d", "start_byte": 463321, "end_byte": 463340, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 582.0399780273438, "end_time": 584.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 582.2149780273438, "cut_end_time": 583.5201030273438, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWhy, dis-yer runaway nigger.\u201d", "start_byte": 463342, "end_byte": 463372, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 584.0800170898438, "end_time": 586.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 584.2550170898438, "cut_end_time": 586.4300795898438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI don\u2019t reckon he does; but what put that into your head?\u201d", "start_byte": 463374, "end_byte": 463433, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 586.8800048828125, "end_time": 591.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 587.5550048828126, "cut_end_time": 590.6200673828125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhat put it dar? Didn\u2019 he jis\u2019 dis minute sing out like he knowed you?\u201d", "start_byte": 463435, "end_byte": 463507, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 591.4400024414062, "end_time": 596.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 591.7150024414062, "cut_end_time": 596.0800024414062, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, that\u2019s mighty curious. Who sung out? When did he sing out? what did he sing out?", "start_byte": 463549, "end_byte": 463636, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 599.760009765625, "end_time": 606.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 599.845009765625, "cut_end_time": 606.510009765625, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "puzzled": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}}, {"text": "\u201cDid you hear anybody sing out?\u201d", "start_byte": 463681, "end_byte": 463713, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 609.6799926757812, "end_time": 611.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 609.8549926757813, "cut_end_time": 611.8301176757813, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cNo; I ain\u2019t heard nobody say nothing.\u201d", "start_byte": 463788, "end_byte": 463827, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 616.0, "end_time": 619.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 616.085, "cut_end_time": 619.1400625, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cDid you sing out?\u201d", "start_byte": 463911, "end_byte": 463930, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 624.1599731445312, "end_time": 625.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 624.1849731445312, "cut_end_time": 625.5300356445313, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cNo, sah,", "start_byte": 463932, "end_byte": 463941, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 625.6799926757812, "end_time": 626.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 625.9449926757812, "cut_end_time": 626.5801176757813, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI hain\u2019t said nothing, sah.\u201d", "start_byte": 463953, "end_byte": 463982, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 627.3599853515625, "end_time": 629.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 627.5749853515625, "cut_end_time": 628.9901103515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cNot a word?\u201d", "start_byte": 463984, "end_byte": 463997, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 629.3200073242188, "end_time": 630.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 629.6250073242188, "cut_end_time": 630.3500073242187, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cNo, sah, I hain\u2019t said a word.\u201d", "start_byte": 463999, "end_byte": 464031, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 630.5999755859375, "end_time": 633.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 630.7649755859376, "cut_end_time": 632.9500380859375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDid you ever see us before?\u201d", "start_byte": 464033, "end_byte": 464062, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 633.0399780273438, "end_time": 635.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 633.1149780273438, "cut_end_time": 635.1800405273437, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cNo, sah; not as I knows on.\u201d", "start_byte": 464064, "end_byte": 464093, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 635.239990234375, "end_time": 637.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 635.454990234375, "cut_end_time": 638.020115234375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWhat do you reckon\u2019s the matter with you, anyway? What made you think somebody sung out?\u201d", "start_byte": 464189, "end_byte": 464279, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 644.0800170898438, "end_time": 649.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 644.3750170898438, "cut_end_time": 649.4100795898438, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "severe": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, it\u2019s de dad-blame\u2019 witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey\u2019s awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos\u2019 kill me, dey sk\u2019yers me so. Please to don\u2019t tell nobody \u2019bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he\u2019ll scole me; \u2019kase he say dey ain\u2019t no witches. I jis\u2019 wish to goodness he was heah now \u2014 den what would he say! I jis\u2019 bet he couldn\u2019 fine no way to git aroun\u2019 it dis time. But it\u2019s awluz jis\u2019 so; people dat\u2019s sot, stays sot; dey won\u2019t look into noth\u2019n\u2019en fine it out f\u2019r deyselves, en when you fine it out en tell um \u2019bout it, dey doan\u2019 b\u2019lieve you.\u201d", "start_byte": 464281, "end_byte": 464830, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 649.52001953125, "end_time": 688.0, "cut_start_time": 650.23501953125, "cut_end_time": 687.47001953125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn\u2019t give him up, I\u2019d hang him.", "start_byte": 464983, "end_byte": 465142, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 696.52001953125, "end_time": 705.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 697.0750195312501, "cut_end_time": 705.62001953125, "narrative_prediction": {"says": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "whispers": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cDon\u2019t ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on nights, it\u2019s us; we\u2019re going to set you free.\u201d", "start_byte": 465271, "end_byte": 465385, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 712.9600219726562, "end_time": 720.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 712.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 720.3400844726563, "narrative_prediction": {"whispers": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "What a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer\u2019s head I wouldn\u2019t trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right plan was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says:", "start_byte": 455910, "end_byte": 456240, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 112.16000366210938, "end_time": 135.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 112.55500366210937, "cut_end_time": 134.93006616210937}, {"text": " I says.", "start_byte": 456258, "end_byte": 456266, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 136.8000030517578, "end_time": 137.75999450683594, "cut_start_time": 136.7750030517578, "cut_end_time": 137.5700030517578}, {"text": " I says.", "start_byte": 456315, "end_byte": 456323, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 141.0399932861328, "end_time": 141.9199981689453, "cut_start_time": 141.0149932861328, "cut_end_time": 141.80005578613282}, {"text": "I never said nothing, because I warn\u2019t expecting nothing different; but I knowed mighty well that whenever he got his plan ready it wouldn\u2019t have none of them objections to it.", "start_byte": 456984, "end_byte": 457160, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 184.39999389648438, "end_time": 195.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 184.85499389648436, "cut_end_time": 194.84011889648437}, {"text": "And it didn\u2019t. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man as mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, and said we would waltz in on it. I needn\u2019t tell what it was here, because I knowed it wouldn\u2019t stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be changing it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done.", "start_byte": 457162, "end_byte": 457647, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 195.32000732421875, "end_time": 225.52000427246094, "cut_start_time": 195.58500732421874, "cut_end_time": 224.66006982421874}, {"text": "Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before everybody. I couldn\u2019t understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. And I did start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says:", "start_byte": 457649, "end_byte": 458479, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 225.52000427246094, "end_time": 277.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 225.82500427246094, "cut_end_time": 276.7400042724609}, {"text": "That\u2019s all he said, and that\u2019s all I said. It warn\u2019t no use to say any more; because when he said he\u2019d do a thing, he always done it. But I couldn\u2019t make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it so, I couldn\u2019t help it.", "start_byte": 458646, "end_byte": 458954, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 288.8800048828125, "end_time": 307.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 289.27500488281254, "cut_end_time": 306.59000488281254}, {"text": "When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn\u2019t make no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the two sides; and on the side I warn\u2019t acquainted with \u2014 which was the north side \u2014 we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just one stout board nailed across it. I says:", "start_byte": 458956, "end_byte": 459498, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 307.3599853515625, "end_time": 339.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 307.8549853515625, "cut_end_time": 339.71004785156254}, {"text": "Tom says:", "start_byte": 459596, "end_byte": 459605, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 345.5199890136719, "end_time": 346.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 345.8749890136719, "cut_end_time": 346.7600515136719}, {"text": " I says,", "start_byte": 459787, "end_byte": 459795, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 358.7200012207031, "end_time": 359.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 358.69500122070315, "cut_end_time": 359.88000122070315}, {"text": " he says.", "start_byte": 459895, "end_byte": 459904, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 366.0, "end_time": 366.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 365.985, "cut_end_time": 366.65000000000003}, {"text": " he says;", "start_byte": 459955, "end_byte": 459964, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 370.32000732421875, "end_time": 371.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 370.4550073242188, "cut_end_time": 371.0400698242188}, {"text": "Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long as the hut, but narrow \u2014 only about six foot wide. The door to it was at the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn\u2019t no connection with it; and there warn\u2019t no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says;", "start_byte": 460069, "end_byte": 460910, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 377.8399963378906, "end_time": 428.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 378.16499633789067, "cut_end_time": 428.64012133789066}, {"text": "Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door \u2014 you only have to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don\u2019t fasten the doors \u2014 but that warn\u2019t romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must climb up the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted his brains out, he thought he\u2019d got to give it up; but after he was rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time he made the trip.", "start_byte": 460980, "end_byte": 461502, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 433.9200134277344, "end_time": 464.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 434.0150134277344, "cut_end_time": 464.6600134277344}, {"text": "In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim \u2014 if it was Jim that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through breakfast and starting for the fields; and Jim\u2019s nigger was piling up a tin pan with bread and meat and things; and whilst the others was leaving, the key come from the house.", "start_byte": 461504, "end_byte": 461886, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 464.8399963378906, "end_time": 486.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 465.25499633789065, "cut_end_time": 485.87005883789067}, {"text": "This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and noises, and he didn\u2019t believe he was ever witched so long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, he forgot all about what he\u2019d been a-going to do. So Tom says:", "start_byte": 461888, "end_byte": 462383, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 486.1199951171875, "end_time": 516.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 486.3749951171875, "cut_end_time": 515.7400576171875}, {"text": "The nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says:", "start_byte": 462436, "end_byte": 462554, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 519.6400146484375, "end_time": 527.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 520.0750146484376, "cut_end_time": 526.9800771484375}, {"text": "I hunched Tom, and whispers:", "start_byte": 462642, "end_byte": 462670, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 534.719970703125, "end_time": 536.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 534.794970703125, "cut_end_time": 536.980095703125}, {"text": "So, drat him, we went along, but I didn\u2019t like it much. When we got in we couldn\u2019t hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out:", "start_byte": 462777, "end_byte": 462964, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 544.0800170898438, "end_time": 557.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 544.0750170898438, "cut_end_time": 556.5100170898438}, {"text": "I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn\u2019t know nothing to do; and if I had I couldn\u2019t a done it, because that nigger busted in and says:", "start_byte": 463014, "end_byte": 463168, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 562.239990234375, "end_time": 571.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 562.714990234375, "cut_end_time": 571.4200527343751}, {"text": "We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and kind of wondering, and says:", "start_byte": 463221, "end_byte": 463319, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 575.760009765625, "end_time": 582.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 576.225009765625, "cut_end_time": 581.580009765625}, {"text": "Tom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way:", "start_byte": 463509, "end_byte": 463547, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 596.5599975585938, "end_time": 599.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 597.0049975585938, "cut_end_time": 599.3401225585937}, {"text": " And turns to me, perfectly ca\u2019m, and says,", "start_byte": 463637, "end_byte": 463680, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 606.7999877929688, "end_time": 609.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 607.1949877929687, "cut_end_time": 609.6500502929688}, {"text": "Of course there warn\u2019t nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says:", "start_byte": 463715, "end_byte": 463786, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 611.760009765625, "end_time": 616.0, "cut_start_time": 611.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 615.860009765625}, {"text": "Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, and says:", "start_byte": 463829, "end_byte": 463909, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 619.2000122070312, "end_time": 624.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 619.2350122070312, "cut_end_time": 624.2300122070312}, {"text": " says Jim;", "start_byte": 463942, "end_byte": 463952, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 626.52001953125, "end_time": 627.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 626.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 627.40001953125}, {"text": "So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and says, kind of severe:", "start_byte": 464095, "end_byte": 464187, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 637.9600219726562, "end_time": 644.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 637.9350219726563, "cut_end_time": 643.5100844726562}, {"text": "Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn\u2019t tell nobody; and told him to buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and says:", "start_byte": 464832, "end_byte": 464981, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 688.0, "end_time": 696.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 688.365, "cut_end_time": 696.5600625000001}, {"text": " And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says:", "start_byte": 465143, "end_byte": 465269, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 705.6799926757812, "end_time": 712.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 705.7849926757813, "cut_end_time": 713.0401176757813}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json b/test/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..9213c546407c1c759872d1d859299a09e007b8b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5863/2033/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5863/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "2033/tenyears_later_1301_librivox_64kb_mp3/tenyearslater_29_dumas_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "2033", "quotations": [{"text": "\u201cwhatever may happen,", "start_byte": 444677, "end_byte": 444698, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 614.4000244140625, "end_time": 616.0, "cut_start_time": 614.6450244140625, "cut_end_time": 615.8500244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"added": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "laying": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "stress": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}}, {"text": "\u201cI think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.\u201d", "start_byte": 444862, "end_byte": 445087, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 628.9600219726562, "end_time": 645.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 629.4650219726562, "cut_end_time": 644.8100844726563, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cBut, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king\u2019s territory.\u201d", "start_byte": 445130, "end_byte": 445208, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 648.5599975585938, "end_time": 654.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 649.2549975585938, "cut_end_time": 654.0201225585938, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cExactly.\u201d", "start_byte": 445210, "end_byte": 445220, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 654.52001953125, "end_time": 656.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 654.6950195312501, "cut_end_time": 655.36001953125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king\u2019s charts. Do you observe it?\u201d", "start_byte": 445222, "end_byte": 445516, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 656.1599731445312, "end_time": 680.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 656.3649731445313, "cut_end_time": 679.9200356445313, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.\u201d", "start_byte": 445518, "end_byte": 445586, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 680.239990234375, "end_time": 685.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 680.754990234375, "cut_end_time": 685.470115234375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?\u201d", "start_byte": 445588, "end_byte": 445792, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 685.9600219726562, "end_time": 704.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 686.7150219726562, "cut_end_time": 704.0000219726563, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship\u2019s.\u201d", "start_byte": 445794, "end_byte": 445895, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 704.5599975585938, "end_time": 712.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 705.0749975585937, "cut_end_time": 711.2901225585938, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cVery well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: \u2018Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty\u2019s territory.\u2019 Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.\u201d", "start_byte": 445897, "end_byte": 446452, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 712.0800170898438, "end_time": 755.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 712.5150170898438, "cut_end_time": 754.5600795898438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cMy reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?\u201d", "start_byte": 446454, "end_byte": 446572, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 755.280029296875, "end_time": 765.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 755.925029296875, "cut_end_time": 764.690091796875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?\u201d", "start_byte": 446574, "end_byte": 446851, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 765.280029296875, "end_time": 788.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 766.045029296875, "cut_end_time": 787.290029296875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYou will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.\u201d", "start_byte": 446853, "end_byte": 446957, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 788.1599731445312, "end_time": 796.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 788.5449731445312, "cut_end_time": 795.6500981445313, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cOh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.\u201d", "start_byte": 446959, "end_byte": 447062, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 796.3200073242188, "end_time": 804.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 796.6650073242188, "cut_end_time": 803.9300073242188, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAs you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.\u201d", "start_byte": 447064, "end_byte": 447159, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 804.5599975585938, "end_time": 811.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 805.1449975585938, "cut_end_time": 811.2900600585938, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cI am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?\u201d", "start_byte": 447161, "end_byte": 447266, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 811.9199829101562, "end_time": 820.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 812.6249829101563, "cut_end_time": 819.7401079101563, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAs you please, my lord.\u201d", "start_byte": 447268, "end_byte": 447293, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 820.0800170898438, "end_time": 822.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 820.5150170898438, "cut_end_time": 821.6800170898438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cDo not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.\u201d", "start_byte": 447295, "end_byte": 447503, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 822.3599853515625, "end_time": 837.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 822.7649853515625, "cut_end_time": 836.6600478515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cUpon my word, your Grace,", "start_byte": 447969, "end_byte": 447995, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 875.0, "end_time": 877.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 875.465, "cut_end_time": 877.4000625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cwe shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?\u201d", "start_byte": 448013, "end_byte": 448110, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 878.9600219726562, "end_time": 886.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 879.3150219726563, "cut_end_time": 885.8500219726562, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI have sunk up to the ankles,", "start_byte": 448112, "end_byte": 448142, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 886.47998046875, "end_time": 889.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 887.0249804687501, "cut_end_time": 889.07004296875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cwithout reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.\u201d", "start_byte": 448161, "end_byte": 448228, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 890.3200073242188, "end_time": 896.0, "cut_start_time": 890.4250073242188, "cut_end_time": 895.3300073242187, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cIt has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,", "start_byte": 448230, "end_byte": 448303, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 896.0, "end_time": 901.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 896.515, "cut_end_time": 900.9300000000001, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cM. de Wardes,", "start_byte": 448375, "end_byte": 448389, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 907.0800170898438, "end_time": 908.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 907.6050170898437, "cut_end_time": 908.5200170898438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cone final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes,", "start_byte": 448408, "end_byte": 448937, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 910.2000122070312, "end_time": 953.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 910.4050122070313, "cut_end_time": 952.8500122070312, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cAnd I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;", "start_byte": 448980, "end_byte": 449159, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 956.760009765625, "end_time": 971.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 957.125009765625, "cut_end_time": 971.350009765625, "narrative_prediction": {"saluted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYou are wounded, my lord,", "start_byte": 449686, "end_byte": 449712, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1018.3200073242188, "end_time": 1020.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1018.6850073242188, "cut_end_time": 1019.9600073242187, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cYes, monsieur, but only slightly.\u201d", "start_byte": 449759, "end_byte": 449794, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1023.8400268554688, "end_time": 1027.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1024.3850268554688, "cut_end_time": 1026.9900893554689, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cYet you quitted your guard.\u201d", "start_byte": 449796, "end_byte": 449825, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1027.6800537109375, "end_time": 1030.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1027.9450537109374, "cut_end_time": 1030.1900537109375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cOnly from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.", "start_byte": 449827, "end_byte": 449924, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1030.9599609375, "end_time": 1039.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1031.2849609374998, "cut_end_time": 1038.5000859375, "narrative_prediction": {"wounded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cA hit?", "start_byte": 450036, "end_byte": 450043, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1047.1199951171875, "end_time": 1048.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1047.3149951171874, "cut_end_time": 1048.0401201171874, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cNo,", "start_byte": 450055, "end_byte": 450059, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1049.5999755859375, "end_time": 1050.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1049.9049755859373, "cut_end_time": 1050.2601005859374, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cWell,", "start_byte": 450191, "end_byte": 450197, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1060.56005859375, "end_time": 1061.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1060.75505859375, "cut_end_time": 1061.2400585937498, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cit is now your turn.\u201d", "start_byte": 450225, "end_byte": 450247, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1063.239990234375, "end_time": 1065.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1063.454990234375, "cut_end_time": 1064.870052734375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "furiously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cAre you dead, marquis?\u201d", "start_byte": 451052, "end_byte": 451076, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1132.239990234375, "end_time": 1135.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1132.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1134.090052734375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cNo,", "start_byte": 451078, "end_byte": 451082, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1135.1199951171875, "end_time": 1136.0799560546875, "cut_start_time": 1135.6049951171874, "cut_end_time": 1136.1300576171875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cbut very near it.\u201d", "start_byte": 451177, "end_byte": 451196, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1143.0799560546875, "end_time": 1146.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1143.2349560546875, "cut_end_time": 1146.7400810546874, "narrative_prediction": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "choked": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\u201cWell, what is to be done; can you walk?", "start_byte": 451198, "end_byte": 451238, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1146.8800048828125, "end_time": 1149.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1147.2950048828125, "cut_end_time": 1149.5300673828124, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cImpossible,", "start_byte": 451286, "end_byte": 451298, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1153.43994140625, "end_time": 1154.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1153.7149414062499, "cut_end_time": 1154.52006640625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201ccall to your people, or I shall be drowned.\u201d", "start_byte": 451343, "end_byte": 451388, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1158.719970703125, "end_time": 1162.800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1158.894970703125, "cut_end_time": 1162.050095703125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cHalloa! boat there! quick, quick!\u201d", "start_byte": 451390, "end_byte": 451425, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1162.800048828125, "end_time": 1166.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1163.0850488281249, "cut_end_time": 1166.340111328125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cNo, no,", "start_byte": 452462, "end_byte": 452470, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1250.0400390625, "end_time": 1250.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1250.3350390624998, "cut_end_time": 1251.0201015624998, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201ctake the marquis on shore first.\u201d", "start_byte": 452492, "end_byte": 452526, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1252.3199462890625, "end_time": 1255.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1252.4949462890625, "cut_end_time": 1254.4800087890624, "narrative_prediction": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cDeath to the Frenchman!", "start_byte": 452528, "end_byte": 452552, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1255.43994140625, "end_time": 1257.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1255.64494140625, "cut_end_time": 1257.05000390625, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sullenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cWretched knaves!", "start_byte": 452583, "end_byte": 452600, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1260.4000244140625, "end_time": 1262.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1260.6550244140624, "cut_end_time": 1261.9900244140624, "narrative_prediction": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cobey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes\u2019s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!\u201d", "start_byte": 452698, "end_byte": 452813, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1269.719970703125, "end_time": 1280.0, "cut_start_time": 1269.874970703125, "cut_end_time": 1279.340033203125, "narrative_prediction": {"exclaimed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cI commit him to your care, as you value your lives,", "start_byte": 452970, "end_byte": 453022, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1292.719970703125, "end_time": 1297.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1293.424970703125, "cut_end_time": 1297.3600332031249, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\u201cTake M. de Wardes on shore.", "start_byte": 453039, "end_byte": 453067, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1298.9200439453125, "end_time": 1301.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1299.1450439453124, "cut_end_time": 1301.2401064453124, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\u201cFrom my master, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possible care may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes.\u201d", "start_byte": 453811, "end_byte": 453935, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1363.8800048828125, "end_time": 1374.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1364.1150048828124, "cut_end_time": 1372.9400673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"saying": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "De Wardes, irritated at finding himself dragged away in so abrupt a manner by this Englishman, had sought in his subtle mind for some means of escaping from his fetters; but no one having rendered him any assistance in this respect, he was absolutely obliged, therefore, to submit to the burden of his own evil thoughts and caustic spirit.", "start_byte": 438017, "end_byte": 438356, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 80.0, "end_time": 108.23999786376953, "cut_start_time": 80.29499999999999, "cut_end_time": 107.1}, {"text": "Such of his friends in whom he had been able to confide, had, in their character of wits, rallied him upon the duke\u2019s superiority. Others, less brilliant, but more sensible, had reminded him of the king\u2019s orders prohibiting dueling. Others, again, and they the larger number, who, in virtue of charity, or national vanity, might have rendered him assistance, did not care to run the risk of incurring disgrace, and would, at the best, have informed the ministers of a departure which might end in a massacre on a small scale. The result was, that, after having fully deliberated upon the matter, De Wardes packed up his luggage, took a couple of horses, and, followed only by one servant, made his way towards the barrier, where Buckingham\u2019s carriage was to await him.", "start_byte": 438358, "end_byte": 439126, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 108.23999786376953, "end_time": 166.75999450683594, "cut_start_time": 108.51499786376952, "cut_end_time": 166.24006036376952}, {"text": "The duke received his adversary as he would have done an intimate acquaintance, made room beside him on the same seat with himself, offered him refreshments, and spread over his knees the sable cloak that had been thrown on the front seat. They then conversed of the court, without alluding to Madame; of Monsieur, without speaking of domestic affairs; of the king, without speaking of his brother\u2019s wife; of the queen-mother, without alluding to her daughter-in-law; of the king of England, without alluding to his sister; of the state of the affections of either of the travelers, without pronouncing any name that might be dangerous. In this way the journey, which was performed by short stages, was most agreeable, and Buckingham, almost a Frenchman from wit and education, was delighted at having so admirably selected his traveling companion. Elegant repasts were served, of which they partook but lightly; trials of horses made in the beautiful meadows that skirted the road; coursing indulged in, for Buckingham had his greyhounds with him; and in such ways did they pass away the pleasant time. The duke somewhat resembled the beautiful river Seine, which folds France a thousand times in its loving embrace, before deciding upon joining its waters with the ocean. In quitting France, it was her recently adopted daughter he had brought to Paris whom he chiefly regretted; his every thought was a remembrance of her -- his every memory a regret. Therefore, whenever, now and then, despite his command over himself, he was lost in thought, De Wardes left him entirely to his musings. This delicacy might have touched Buckingham, and changed his feelings towards De Wardes, if the latter, while preserving silence, had shown a glance less full of malice, and a smile less false. Instinctive dislikes, however, are relentless; nothing appeases them; a few ashes may, sometimes, apparently, extinguish them; but beneath those ashes the smothered embers rage more furiously. Having exhausted every means of amusement the route offered, they arrived, as we have said, at Calais towards the end of the sixth day. The duke\u2019s attendants, since the previous evening, had traveled in advance, and now chartered a boat, for the purpose of joining the yacht, which had been tacking about in sight, or bore broadside on, whenever it felt its white wings wearied, within cannon-shot of the jetty.", "start_byte": 439128, "end_byte": 441518, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 166.75999450683594, "end_time": 358.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 167.26499450683593, "cut_end_time": 357.8200570068359}, {"text": "The boat was destined for the transport of the duke\u2019s equipages from the shore to the yacht. The horses had been embarked, having been hoisted from the boat upon the deck in baskets, expressly made for the purpose, and wadded in such a manner that their limbs, even in the most violent fits of terror or impatience, were always protected by the soft support which the sides afforded, and their coats not even turned. Eight of these baskets, placed side by side, filled the ship\u2019s hold. It is well known that, in short voyages horses refuse to eat, but remain trembling all the while, with the best of food before them, such as they would have greatly coveted on land. By degrees, the duke\u2019s entire equipage was transported on board the yacht; he was then informed that everything was in readiness, and that they only waited for him, whenever he would be disposed to embark with the French gentleman; for no one could possibly imagine that the French gentleman would have any other accounts to settle with his Grace other than those of friendship. Buckingham desired the captain to be told to hold himself in readiness, but that, as the sea was beautiful, and as the day promised a splendid sunset, he did not intend to go on board until nightfall, and would avail himself of the evening to enjoy a walk on the strand. He added also, that, finding himself in such excellent company, he had not the least desire to hasten his embarkation.", "start_byte": 441520, "end_byte": 442956, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 358.55999755859375, "end_time": 472.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 359.3249975585938, "cut_end_time": 472.0501225585938}, {"text": "As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him the magnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in the horizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun\u2019s disc to the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds was tinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading away into opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried from base to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and upon the crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like a diamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, so dear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing in delicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yacht with its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky -- while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with their trimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such a spectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlers followed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistook the steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As for Buckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, and doublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than De Wardes, who was in black, like an attorney.", "start_byte": 442958, "end_byte": 444459, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 472.7200012207031, "end_time": 598.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 473.2250012207031, "cut_end_time": 597.5300637207032}, {"text": "The duke\u2019s attendants had received directions to have a boat in readiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of their master, without approaching him until either he or his friend should summon them, --", "start_byte": 444461, "end_byte": 444676, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 598.4000244140625, "end_time": 614.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 599.1050244140625, "cut_end_time": 613.9500869140625}, {"text": " he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes,", "start_byte": 444699, "end_byte": 444861, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 616.0, "end_time": 628.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 616.245, "cut_end_time": 628.6100625}, {"text": "\u201cI await your orders, my lord, but -- \u201d", "start_byte": 445089, "end_byte": 445128, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 645.4000244140625, "end_time": 648.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 645.9550244140626, "cut_end_time": 648.4000244140625}, {"text": "\u201cWe are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- \u201d", "start_byte": 447505, "end_byte": 447641, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 837.6799926757812, "end_time": 849.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 838.0249926757813, "cut_end_time": 848.4301176757813}, {"text": "Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.", "start_byte": 447643, "end_byte": 447967, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 849.52001953125, "end_time": 875.0, "cut_start_time": 849.79501953125, "cut_end_time": 873.92001953125}, {"text": " said De Wardes,", "start_byte": 447996, "end_byte": 448012, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 877.4400024414062, "end_time": 878.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 877.6850024414063, "cut_end_time": 878.5700649414063}, {"text": " said Buckingham,", "start_byte": 448143, "end_byte": 448160, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 889.0399780273438, "end_time": 890.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 889.1249780273438, "cut_end_time": 889.9901030273438}, {"text": " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.", "start_byte": 448304, "end_byte": 448373, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 901.0399780273438, "end_time": 907.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 901.2749780273438, "cut_end_time": 906.3501030273437}, {"text": " said Buckingham,", "start_byte": 448390, "end_byte": 448407, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 908.5999755859375, "end_time": 910.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 908.8949755859376, "cut_end_time": 909.7901005859375}, {"text": " concluded Buckingham as he saluted him.", "start_byte": 448938, "end_byte": 448978, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 953.1599731445312, "end_time": 956.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 953.5149731445313, "cut_end_time": 956.0700981445312}, {"text": " and De Wardes saluted Buckingham.", "start_byte": 449160, "end_byte": 449194, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 971.9199829101562, "end_time": 976.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 972.2449829101563, "cut_end_time": 974.5100454101563}, {"text": "Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham\u2019s shoulder. The duke\u2019s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.", "start_byte": 449196, "end_byte": 449684, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 976.0399780273438, "end_time": 1018.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 976.7049780273438, "cut_end_time": 1017.4901030273438}, {"text": " said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.", "start_byte": 449713, "end_byte": 449757, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1020.1199951171875, "end_time": 1023.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 1020.2449951171875, "cut_end_time": 1023.3501201171875}, {"text": " And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.", "start_byte": 449925, "end_byte": 450034, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1039.280029296875, "end_time": 1047.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1039.705029296875, "cut_end_time": 1046.360029296875}, {"text": " he said.", "start_byte": 450044, "end_byte": 450053, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1048.1600341796875, "end_time": 1049.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1048.4550341796873, "cut_end_time": 1049.1300341796873}, {"text": " cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.", "start_byte": 450060, "end_byte": 450104, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1050.1600341796875, "end_time": 1053.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1050.1350341796874, "cut_end_time": 1053.2000966796875}, {"text": "\u201cI beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- \u201d said Buckingham.", "start_byte": 450106, "end_byte": 450189, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1053.9200439453125, "end_time": 1060.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1054.6950439453124, "cut_end_time": 1060.0701064453124}, {"text": " said De Wardes furiously,", "start_byte": 450198, "end_byte": 450224, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1061.239990234375, "end_time": 1063.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1061.634990234375, "cut_end_time": 1063.080052734375}, {"text": "And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham\u2019s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke\u2019s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said,", "start_byte": 450249, "end_byte": 451051, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1065.3199462890625, "end_time": 1132.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1065.8949462890623, "cut_end_time": 1131.8000087890623}, {"text": " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat,", "start_byte": 451083, "end_byte": 451176, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1136.0799560546875, "end_time": 1143.0799560546875, "cut_start_time": 1136.4049560546873, "cut_end_time": 1142.6800185546874}, {"text": " said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.", "start_byte": 451239, "end_byte": 451284, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1149.9200439453125, "end_time": 1153.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1150.2650439453123, "cut_end_time": 1152.8300439453124}, {"text": " he replied. Then falling down again, said,", "start_byte": 451299, "end_byte": 451342, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1154.52001953125, "end_time": 1158.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1154.67501953125, "cut_end_time": 1158.37001953125}, {"text": "The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke\u2019s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.", "start_byte": 451427, "end_byte": 452460, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1166.8800048828125, "end_time": 1250.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1167.6350048828124, "cut_end_time": 1249.6000673828123}, {"text": " exclaimed the duke,", "start_byte": 452471, "end_byte": 452491, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1250.9200439453125, "end_time": 1252.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1250.8950439453124, "cut_end_time": 1252.1800439453125}, {"text": " cried the English sullenly.", "start_byte": 452553, "end_byte": 452581, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1257.1199951171875, "end_time": 1260.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1257.3349951171874, "cut_end_time": 1259.0501201171874}, {"text": " exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood,", "start_byte": 452601, "end_byte": 452697, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1262.3199462890625, "end_time": 1269.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1262.5749462890624, "cut_end_time": 1269.3800087890625}, {"text": "The boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.", "start_byte": 452815, "end_byte": 452968, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1280.0, "end_time": 1292.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1280.655, "cut_end_time": 1291.53}, {"text": " said the duke.", "start_byte": 453023, "end_byte": 453038, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1297.47998046875, "end_time": 1298.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1297.5449804687498, "cut_end_time": 1298.4501054687498}, {"text": " They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke\u2019s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying:", "start_byte": 453068, "end_byte": 453810, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1301.9200439453125, "end_time": 1363.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1302.4650439453123, "cut_end_time": 1363.4701064453125}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5863/clean_text.txt b/test/5863/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..588e93150773c7bdb8f22bd9e436cece485fd404
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5863/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13155 @@
+Ten Years Later
+
+by Alexandre Dumas
+
+Transcriber’s Notes:
+
+As you may be aware, Project Gutenberg has been involved with the writings of both the Alexandre Dumases for some time now, and since we get a few questions about the order in which the books should be read, and in which they were published, these following comments should hopefully help most of our readers.
+
+*****
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne is the final volume of D’Artagnan Romances: it is usually split into three or four parts, and the final portion is entitled The Man in the Iron Mask. The Man in the Iron Mask we’re familiar with today is the last volume of the four-volume edition. [Not all the editions split them in the same manner, hence some of the confusion...but wait...there’s yet more reason for confusion.]
+
+We intend to do ALL of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, split into four etexts entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Ten Years Later, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask; you WILL be getting The Man in the Iron Mask.
+
+One thing that may be causing confusion is that the etext we have now, entitled Ten Years Later, says it’s the sequel to The Three Musketeers. While this is technically true, there’s another book, Twenty Years After, that comes between. The confusion is generated by the two facts that we published Ten Years Later BEFORE we published Twenty Years After, and that many people see those titles as meaning Ten and Twenty Years “After” the original story...however, this is why the different words “After” and “Later”...the Ten Years “After” is ten years after the Twenty Years later...as per history. Also, the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances, while entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, has the subtitle Ten Years Later. These two titles are also given to different volumes: The Vicomte de Bragelonne can refer to the whole book, or the first volume of the three or four-volume editions. Ten Years Later can, similarly, refer to the whole book, or the second volume of the four-volume edition. To add to the confusion, in the case of our etexts, it refers to the first 104 chapters of the whole book, covering material in the first and second etexts in the new series. Here is a guide to the series which may prove helpful:
+
+The Three Musketeers: Etext 1257 -- First book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1625-1628.
+
+Twenty Years After: Etext 1259 -- Second book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1648-1649. [Third in the order that we published, but second in time sequence!!!]
+
+Ten Years Later: Etext 1258 -- First 104 chapters of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1660-1661.
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne: Etext 2609 (first in the new series) -- First 75 chapters of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the year 1660.
+
+Ten Years Later: Etext 2681 (our new etext) -- Chapters 76-140 of that third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1660-1661. [In this particular editing of it]
+
+Louise de la Valliere: forthcoming (our next etext) -- Chapters 141-208 of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the year 1661.
+
+The Man in the Iron Mask: forthcoming (following) -- Chapters 209-269 of the third book of the D’Artagnan Romances. Covers the years 1661-1673.
+
+If we’ve calculated correctly, that fourth text SHOULD correspond to the modern editions of The Man in the Iron Mask, which is still widely circulated, and comprises about the last 1/4 of The Vicomte de Bragelonne.
+
+Many thanks to Dr. David Coward, whose editions of the D’Artagnan Romances have proved an invaluable source of information.
+
+*****
+
+Introduction:
+
+In the months of March-July in 1844, in the magazine Le Siecle, the first portion of a story appeared, penned by the celebrated playwright Alexandre Dumas. It was based, he claimed, on some manuscripts he had found a year earlier in the Bibliotheque Nationale while researching a history he planned to write on Louis XIV. They chronicled the adventures of a young man named D’Artagnan who, upon entering Paris, became almost immediately embroiled in court intrigues, international politics, and ill-fated affairs between royal lovers. Over the next six years, readers would enjoy the adventures of this youth and his three famous friends, Porthos, Athos, and Aramis, as their exploits unraveled behind the scenes of some of the most momentous events in French and even English history.
+
+Eventually these serialized adventures were published in novel form, and became the three D’Artagnan Romances known today. Here is a brief summary of the first two novels:
+
+The Three Musketeers (serialized March-July, 1844): The year is 1625. The young D’Artagnan arrives in Paris at the tender age of 18, and almost immediately offends three musketeers, Porthos, Aramis, and Athos. Instead of dueling, the four are attacked by five of the Cardinal’s guards, and the courage of the youth is made apparent during the battle. The four become fast friends, and, when asked by D’Artagnan’s landlord to find his missing wife, embark upon an adventure that takes them across both France and England in order to thwart the plans of the Cardinal Richelieu. Along the way, they encounter a beautiful young spy, named simply Milady, who will stop at nothing to disgrace Queen Anne of Austria before her husband, Louis XIII, and take her revenge upon the four friends.
+
+Twenty Years After (serialized January-August, 1845): The year is now 1648, twenty years since the close of the last story. Louis XIII has died, as has Cardinal Richelieu, and while the crown of France may sit upon the head of Anne of Austria as Regent for the young Louis XIV, the real power resides with the Cardinal Mazarin, her secret husband. D’Artagnan is now a lieutenant of musketeers, and his three friends have retired to private life. Athos turned out to be a nobleman, the Comte de la Fere, and has retired to his home with his son, Raoul de Bragelonne. Aramis, whose real name is D’Herblay, has followed his intention of shedding the musketeer’s cassock for the priest’s robes, and Porthos has married a wealthy woman, who left him her fortune upon her death. But trouble is stirring in both France and England. Cromwell menaces the institution of royalty itself while marching against Charles I, and at home the Fronde is threatening to tear France apart. D’Artagnan brings his friends out of retirement to save the threatened English monarch, but Mordaunt, the son of Milady, who seeks to avenge his mother’s death at the musketeers’ hands, thwarts their valiant efforts. Undaunted, our heroes return to France just in time to help save the young Louis XIV, quiet the Fronde, and tweak the nose of Cardinal Mazarin.
+
+The third novel, The Vicomte de Bragelonne (serialized October, 1847 -- January, 1850), has enjoyed a strange history in its English translation. It has been split into three, four, or five volumes at various points in its history. The five-volume edition generally does not give titles to the smaller portions, but the others do. In the three-volume edition, the novels are entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask. For the purposes of this etext, I have chosen to split the novel as the four-volume edition does, with these titles: The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Ten Years Later, Louise de la Valliere, and The Man in the Iron Mask. In the last etext:
+
+The Vicomte de Bragelonne (Etext 2609): It is the year 1660, and D’Artagnan, after thirty-five years of loyal service, has become disgusted with serving King Louis XIV while the real power resides with the Cardinal Mazarin, and has tendered his resignation. He embarks on his own project, that of restoring Charles II to the throne of England, and, with the help of Athos, succeeds, earning himself quite a fortune in the process. D’Artagnan returns to Paris to live the life of a rich citizen, and Athos, after negotiating the marriage of Philip, the king’s brother, to Princess Henrietta of England, likewise retires to his own estate, La Fere. Meanwhile, Mazarin has finally died, and left Louis to assume the reigns of power, with the assistance of M. Colbert, formerly Mazarin’s trusted clerk. Colbert has an intense hatred for M. Fouquet, the king’s superintendent of finances, and has resolved to use any means necessary to bring about his fall. With the new rank of intendant bestowed on him by Louis, Colbert succeeds in having two of Fouquet’s loyal friends tried and executed. He then brings to the king’s attention that Fouquet is fortifying the island of Belle-Ile-en-Mer, and could possibly be planning to use it as a base for some military operation against the king. Louis calls D’Artagnan out of retirement and sends him to investigate the island, promising him a tremendous salary and his long-promised promotion to captain of the musketeers upon his return. At Belle-Isle, D’Artagnan discovers that the engineer of the fortifications is, in fact, Porthos, now the Baron du Vallon, and that’s not all. The blueprints for the island, although in Porthos’s handwriting, show evidence of another script that has been erased, that of Aramis. D’Artagnan later discovers that Aramis has become the bishop of Vannes, which is, coincidentally, a parish belonging to M. Fouquet. Suspecting that D’Artagnan has arrived on the king’s behalf to investigate, Aramis tricks D’Artagnan into wandering around Vannes in search of Porthos, and sends Porthos on an heroic ride back to Paris to warn Fouquet of the danger. Fouquet rushes to the king, and gives him Belle-Isle as a present, thus allaying any suspicion, and at the same time humiliating Colbert, just minutes before the usher announces someone else seeking an audience with the king.
+
+And now, the second etext of The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Enjoy!
+
+John Bursey Mordaunt@aol.com June, 2000
+
+*****
+
+There is one French custom that may cause confusion. The Duc d’Orleans is traditionally called “Monsieur” and his wife “Madame.” Gaston, the king’s uncle, currently holds that title. Upon the event of his death, it will be conferred upon the king’s brother, Philip, who is currently the Duc d’Anjou. The customary title of “Monsieur” will go to him as well, and upon his future wife, Henrietta of England, that of “Madame.” Gaston’s widow will be referred to as the “Dowager Madame.” -- JB
+
+*****
+
+Chapter I. In which D’Artagnan finishes by at Length placing his Hand upon his Captain’s Commission.
+
+The reader guesses beforehand whom the usher preceded in announcing the courier from Bretagne. This messenger was easily recognized. It was D’Artagnan, his clothes dusty, his face inflamed, his hair dripping with sweat, his legs stiff; he lifted his feet painfully at every step, on which resounded the clink of his blood-stained spurs. He perceived in the doorway he was passing through, the superintendent coming out. Fouquet bowed with a smile to him who, an hour before, was bringing him ruin and death. D’Artagnan found in his goodness of heart, and in his inexhaustible vigor of body, enough presence of mind to remember the kind reception of this man; he bowed then, also, much more from benevolence and compassion, than from respect. He felt upon his lips the word which had so many times been repeated to the Duc de Guise: “Fly.” But to pronounce that word would have been to betray his cause; to speak that word in the cabinet of the king, and before an usher, would have been to ruin himself gratuitously, and could save nobody. D’Artagnan then, contented himself with bowing to Fouquet and entered. At this moment the king floated between the joy the last words of Fouquet had given him, and his pleasure at the return of D’Artagnan. Without being a courtier, D’Artagnan had a glance as sure and as rapid as if he had been one. He read, on his entrance, devouring humiliation on the countenance of Colbert. He even heard the king say these words to him: -- 
+
+“Ah! Monsieur Colbert; you have then nine hundred thousand livres at the intendance?” Colbert, suffocated, bowed but made no reply. All this scene entered into the mind of D’Artagnan, by the eyes and ears, at once.
+
+The first word of Louis to his musketeer, as if he wished it to contrast with what he was saying at the moment, was a kind “good day.” His second was to send away Colbert. The latter left the king’s cabinet, pallid and tottering, whilst D’Artagnan twisted up the ends of his mustache.
+
+“I love to see one of my servants in this disorder,” said the king, admiring the martial stains upon the clothes of his envoy.
+
+“I thought, sire, my presence at the Louvre was sufficiently urgent to excuse my presenting myself thus before you.”
+
+“You bring me great news, then, monsieur?”
+
+“Sire, the thing is this, in two words: Belle-Isle is fortified, admirably fortified; Belle-Isle has a double enceinte, a citadel, two detached forts; its ports contain three corsairs; and the side batteries only await their cannon.”
+
+“I know all that, monsieur,” replied the king.
+
+“What! your majesty knows all that?” replied the musketeer, stupefied.
+
+“I have the plan of the fortifications of Belle-Isle,” said the king.
+
+“Your majesty has the plan?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+“It is really correct, sire: I saw a similar one on the spot.”
+
+D’Artagnan’s brow became clouded.
+
+“Ah! I understand all. Your majesty did not trust to me alone, but sent some other person,” said he in a reproachful tone.
+
+“Of what importance is the manner, monsieur, in which I have learnt what I know, so that I know it?”
+
+“Sire, sire,” said the musketeer, without seeking even to conceal his dissatisfaction; “but I must be permitted to say to your majesty, that it is not worth while to make me use such speed, to risk twenty times the breaking of my neck, to salute me on my arrival with such intelligence. Sire, when people are not trusted, or are deemed insufficient, they should scarcely be employed.” And D’Artagnan, with a movement perfectly military, stamped with his foot, and left upon the floor dust stained with blood. The king looked at him, inwardly enjoying his first triumph.
+
+“Monsieur,” said he, at the expiration of a minute, “not only is Belle-Isle known to me, but, still further, Belle-Isle is mine.”
+
+“That is well! that is well, sire, I ask but one thing more,” replied D’Artagnan. -- “My discharge.”
+
+“What! your discharge?”
+
+“Without doubt I am too proud to eat the bread of the king without earning it, or rather by gaining it badly. -- My discharge, sire!”
+
+“Oh, oh!”
+
+“I ask for my discharge, or I will take it.”
+
+“You are angry, monsieur?”
+
+“I have reason, mordioux! Thirty-two hours in the saddle, I ride day and night, I perform prodigies of speed, I arrive stiff as the corpse of a man who has been hung -- and another arrives before me! Come, sire, I am a fool! -- My discharge, sire!”
+
+“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Louis, leaning his white hand upon the dusty arm of the musketeer, “what I tell you will not at all affect that which I promised you. A king’s word given must be kept.” And the king going straight to his table, opened a drawer, and took out a folded paper. “Here is your commission of captain of musketeers; you have won it, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+D’Artagnan opened the paper eagerly, and scanned it twice. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
+
+“And this commission is given you,” continued the king, “not only on account of your journey to Belle-Isle but, moreover, for your brave intervention at the Place de Greve. There, likewise, you served me valiantly.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” said D’Artagnan, without his self-command being able to prevent a blush from mounting to his eyes -- “you know that also, sire?”
+
+“Yes, I know it.”
+
+The king possessed a piercing glance and an infallible judgment when it was his object to read men’s minds. “You have something to say,” said he to the musketeer, “something to say which you do not say. Come, speak freely, monsieur; you know that I told you, once and for all, that you are to be always quite frank with me.”
+
+“Well, sire! what I have to say is this, that I would prefer being made captain of the musketeers for having charged a battery at the head of my company, or taken a city, than for causing two wretches to be hung.”
+
+“Is this quite true you tell me?”
+
+“And why should your majesty suspect me of dissimulation, I ask?”
+
+“Because I have known you well, monsieur; you cannot repent of having drawn your sword for me.”
+
+“Well, in that your majesty is deceived, and greatly; yes, I do repent of having drawn my sword on account of the results that action produced; the poor men who were hung, sire, were neither your enemies nor mine; and they could not defend themselves.”
+
+The king preserved silence for a moment. “And your companion, M. d’Artagnan, does he partake of your repentance?”
+
+“My companion?”
+
+“Yes, you were not alone, I have been told.”
+
+“Alone, where?”
+
+“At the Place de Greve.”
+
+“No, sire, no,” said D’Artagnan, blushing at the idea that the king might have a suspicion that he, D’Artagnan, had wished to engross to himself all the glory that belonged to Raoul; “no, mordioux! and as your majesty says, I had a companion, and a good companion, too.”
+
+“A young man?”
+
+“Yes, sire; a young man. Oh! your majesty must accept my compliments, you are as well informed of things out of doors as things within. It is M. Colbert who makes all these fine reports to the king.”
+
+“M. Colbert has said nothing but good of you, M. d’Artagnan, and he would have met with a bad reception if he had come to tell me anything else.”
+
+“That is fortunate!”
+
+“But he also said much good of that young man.”
+
+“And with justice,” said the musketeer.
+
+“In short, it appears that this young man is a fire-eater,” said Louis, in order to sharpen the sentiment which he mistook for envy.
+
+“A fire-eater! Yes, sire,” repeated D’Artagnan, delighted on his part to direct the king’s attention to Raoul.
+
+“Do you not know his name?”
+
+“Well, I think -- ”
+
+“You know him then?”
+
+“I have known him nearly five-and-twenty years, sire.”
+
+“Why, he is scarcely twenty-five years old!” cried the king.
+
+“Well, sire! I have known him ever since he was born, that is all.”
+
+“Do you affirm that?”
+
+“Sire,” said D’Artagnan, “your majesty questions me with a mistrust in which I recognize another character than your own. M. Colbert, who has so well informed you, has he not forgotten to tell you that this young man is the son of my most intimate friend?”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne?”
+
+“Certainly, sire. The father of the Vicomte de Bragelonne is M. le Comte de la Fere, who so powerfully assisted in the restoration of King Charles II. Bragelonne comes of a valiant race, sire.”
+
+“Then he is the son of that nobleman who came to me, or rather to M. Mazarin, on the part of King Charles II., to offer me his alliance?”
+
+“Exactly, sire.”
+
+“And the Comte de la Fere is a great soldier, say you?”
+
+“Sire, he is a man who has drawn his sword more times for the king, your father, than there are, at present, months in the happy life of your majesty.”
+
+It was Louis XIV. who now bit his lip.
+
+“That is well, M. d’Artagnan, very well! And M. le Comte de la Fere is your friend, say you?”
+
+“For about forty years; yes, sire. Your majesty may see that I do not speak to you of yesterday.”
+
+“Should you be glad to see this young man, M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Delighted, sire.”
+
+The king touched his bell, and an usher appeared. “Call M. de Bragelonne,” said the king.
+
+“Ah! ah! he is here?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“He is on guard to-day, at the Louvre, with the company of the gentlemen of monsieur le prince.”
+
+The king had scarcely ceased speaking, when Raoul presented himself, and, on seeing D’Artagnan, smiled on him with that charming smile which is only found upon the lips of youth.
+
+“Come, come,” said D’Artagnan, familiarly, to Raoul, “the king will allow you to embrace me; only tell his majesty you thank him.”
+
+Raoul bowed so gracefully, that Louis, to whom all superior qualities were pleasing when they did not overshadow his own, admired his beauty, strength, and modesty.
+
+“Monsieur,” said the king, addressing Raoul, “I have asked monsieur le prince to be kind enough to give you up to me; I have received his reply, and you belong to me from this morning. Monsieur le prince was a good master, but I hope you will not lose by the exchange.”
+
+“Yes, yes, Raoul, be satisfied; the king has some good in him,” said D’Artagnan, who had fathomed the character of Louis, and who played with his self-love, within certain limits; always observing, be it understood, the proprieties and flattering, even when he appeared to be bantering.
+
+“Sire,” said Bragelonne, with voice soft and musical, and with the natural and easy elocution he inherited from his father; “Sire, it is not from to-day that I belong to your majesty.”
+
+“Oh! no, I know,” said the king, “you mean your enterprise of the Greve. That day, you were truly mine, monsieur.”
+
+“Sire, it is not of that day I would speak; it would not become me to refer to so paltry a service in the presence of such a man as M. d’Artagnan. I would speak of a circumstance which created an epoch in my life, and which consecrated me, from the age of sixteen, to the devoted service of your majesty.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the king, “what was that circumstance? Tell me, monsieur.”
+
+“This is it, sire. -- When I was setting out on my first campaign, that is to say, to join the army of monsieur le prince, M. le Comte de la Fere came to conduct me as far as Saint-Denis, where the remains of King Louis XIII. wait, upon the lowest steps of the funeral basilique, a successor, whom God will not send him, I hope, for many years. Then he made me swear upon the ashes of our masters, to serve royalty, represented by you -- incarnate in you, sire -- to serve it in word, in thought, and in action. I swore, and God and the dead were witnesses to my oath. During ten years, sire, I have not so often as I desired had occasion to keep it. I am a soldier of your majesty, and nothing else; and, on calling me nearer to you, I do not change my master, I only change my garrison.”
+
+Raoul was silent and bowed. Louis still listened after he had done speaking.
+
+“Mordioux!” cried D’Artagnan, “that was well spoken! was it not, your majesty? A good race! a noble race!”
+
+“Yes,” murmured the king, without, however daring to manifest his emotion, for it had no other cause than contact with a nature intrinsically noble. “Yes, monsieur, you say truly: -- wherever you were, you were the king’s. But in changing your garrison, believe me you will find an advancement of which you are worthy.”
+
+Raoul saw that this ended what the king had to say to him. And with the perfect tact which characterized his refined nature, he bowed and retired.
+
+“Is there anything else, monsieur, of which you have to inform me?” said the king, when he found himself again alone with D’Artagnan.
+
+“Yes, sire, and I kept that news for the last, for it is sad, and will clothe European royalty in mourning.”
+
+“What do you tell me?”
+
+“Sire, in passing through Blois, a word, a sad word, echoed from the palace, struck my ear.”
+
+“In truth, you terrify me, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Sire, this word was pronounced to me by a piqueur, who wore crape on his arm.”
+
+“My uncle, Gaston of Orleans, perhaps.”
+
+“Sire, he has rendered his last sigh.”
+
+“And I was not warned of it!” cried the king, whose royal susceptibility saw an insult in the absence of this intelligence.
+
+“Oh! do not be angry, sire,” said D’Artagnan; “neither the couriers of Paris, nor the couriers of the whole world, can travel with your servant; the courier from Blois will not be here these two hours, and he rides well, I assure you, seeing that I only passed him on the thither side of Orleans.”
+
+“My uncle Gaston,” murmured Louis, pressing his hand to his brow, and comprising in those three words all that his memory recalled of that symbol of opposing sentiments.
+
+“Eh! yes, sire, it is thus,” said D’Artagnan, philosophically replying to the royal thought, “it is thus the past flies away.”
+
+“That is true, monsieur, that is true; but there remains for us, thank God! the future; and we will try to make it not too dark.”
+
+“I feel confidence in your majesty on that head,” said D’Artagnan, bowing, “and now -- ”
+
+“You are right, monsieur; I had forgotten the hundred leagues you have just ridden. Go, monsieur, take care of one of the best of soldiers, and when you have reposed a little, come and place yourself at my disposal.”
+
+“Sire, absent or present, I am always yours.”
+
+D’Artagnan bowed and retired. Then, as if he had only come from Fontainebleau, he quickly traversed the Louvre to rejoin Bragelonne.
+
+Chapter II. A Lover and His Mistress.
+
+Whilst the wax-lights were burning in the castle of Blois, around the inanimate body of Gaston of Orleans, that last representative of the past; whilst the bourgeois of the city were thinking out his epitaph, which was far from being a panegyric; whilst madame the dowager, no longer remembering that in her young days she had loved that senseless corpse to such a degree as to fly the paternal palace for his sake, was making, within twenty paces of the funeral apartment, her little calculations of interest and her little sacrifices of pride; other interests and other prides were in agitation in all the parts of the castle into which a living soul could penetrate. Neither the lugubrious sounds of the bells, nor the voices of the chanters, nor the splendor of the wax-lights through the windows, nor the preparations for the funeral, had power to divert the attention of two persons, placed at a window of the interior court -- a window that we are acquainted with, and which lighted a chamber forming part of what were called the little apartments. For the rest, a joyous beam of the sun, for the sun appeared to care little for the loss France had just suffered; a sunbeam, we say, descended upon them, drawing perfumes from the neighboring flowers, and animating the walls themselves. These two persons, so occupied, not by the death of the duke, but by the conversation which was the consequence of that death, were a young woman and a young man. The latter personage, a man of from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, with a mien sometimes lively and sometimes dull, making good use of two large eyes, shaded with long eye-lashes, was short of stature and swart of skin; he smiled with an enormous, but well-furnished mouth, and his pointed chin, which appeared to enjoy a mobility nature does not ordinarily grant to that portion of the countenance, leant from time to time very lovingly towards his interlocutrix, who, we must say, did not always draw back so rapidly as strict propriety had a right to require. The young girl -- we know her, for we have already seen her, at that very same window, by the light of that same sun -- the young girl presented a singular mixture of shyness and reflection; she was charming when she laughed, beautiful when she became serious; but, let us hasten to say, she was more frequently charming than beautiful. These two appeared to have attained the culminating point of a discussion -- half-bantering, half-serious.
+
+“Now, Monsieur Malicorne,” said the young girl, “does it, at length, please you that we should talk reasonably?”
+
+“You believe that that is very easy, Mademoiselle Aure,” replied the young man. “To do what we like, when we can only do what we are able -- ”
+
+“Good! there he is bewildered in his phrases.”
+
+“Who, I?”
+
+“Yes, you; quit that lawyer’s logic, my dear.”
+
+“Another impossibility. Clerk I am, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Demoiselle I am, Monsieur Malicorne.”
+
+“Alas, I know it well, and you overwhelm me by your rank; so I will say no more to you.”
+
+“Well, no, I don’t overwhelm you; say what you have to tell me -- say it, I insist upon it.”
+
+“Well, I obey you.”
+
+“That is truly fortunate.”
+
+“Monsieur is dead.”
+
+“Ah, peste! that’s news! And where do you come from, to be able to tell us that?”
+
+“I come from Orleans, mademoiselle.”
+
+“And is that all the news you bring?”
+
+“Ah, no; I am come to tell you that Madame Henrietta of England is coming to marry the king’s brother.”
+
+“Indeed, Malicorne, you are insupportable with your news of the last century. Now, mind, if you persist in this bad habit of laughing at people, I will have you turned out.”
+
+“Oh!”
+
+“Yes, for really you exasperate me.”
+
+“There, there. Patience, mademoiselle.”
+
+“You want to make yourself of consequence; I know well enough why. Go!”
+
+“Tell me, and I will answer you frankly, yes, if the thing be true.”
+
+“You know that I am anxious to have that commission of lady of honor, which I have been foolish enough to ask of you, and you do not use your credit.”
+
+“Who, I?” Malicorne cast down his eyes, joined his hands, and assumed his sullen air. “And what credit can the poor clerk of a procurer have, pray?”
+
+“Your father has not twenty thousand livres a year for nothing, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“A provincial fortune, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Your father is not in the secrets of monsieur le prince for nothing.”
+
+“An advantage which is confined to lending monseigneur money.”
+
+“In a word, you are not the most cunning young fellow in the province for nothing.”
+
+“You flatter me!”
+
+“Who, I?”
+
+“Yes, you.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Since I maintain that I have no credit, and you maintain I have.”
+
+“Well, then, -- my commission?”
+
+“Well, -- your commission?”
+
+“Shall I have it, or shall I not?”
+
+“You shall have it.”
+
+“Ay, but when?”
+
+“When you like.”
+
+“Where is it, then?”
+
+“In my pocket.”
+
+“How -- in your pocket?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+And, with a smile, Malicorne drew from his pocket a letter, upon which mademoiselle seized as a prey, and which she read eagerly. As she read, her face brightened.
+
+“Malicorne,” cried she after having read it, “In truth, you are a good lad.”
+
+“What for, mademoiselle?”
+
+“Because you might have been paid for this commission, and you have not.” And she burst into a loud laugh, thinking to put the clerk out of countenance; but Malicorne sustained the attack bravely.
+
+“I do not understand you,” said he. It was now Montalais who was disconcerted in her turn. “I have declared my sentiments to you,” continued Malicorne. “You have told me three times, laughing all the while, that you did not love me; you have embraced me once without laughing, and that is all I want.”
+
+“All?” said the proud and coquettish Montalais, in a tone through which the wounded pride was visible.
+
+“Absolutely all, mademoiselle,” replied Malicorne.
+
+“Ah!” -- And this monosyllable indicated as much anger as the young man might have expected gratitude. He shook his head quietly.
+
+“Listen, Montalais,” said he, without heeding whether that familiarity pleased his mistress or not; “let us not dispute about it.”
+
+“And why not?”
+
+“Because during the year which I have known you, you might have had me turned out of doors twenty times if I did not please you.”
+
+“Indeed; and on what account should I have had you turned out?”
+
+“Because I have been sufficiently impertinent for that.”
+
+“Oh, that, -- yes, that’s true.”
+
+“You see plainly that you are forced to avow it,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne!”
+
+“Don’t let us be angry; if you have retained me, then it has not been without cause.”
+
+“It is not, at least, because I love you,” cried Montalais.
+
+“Granted. I will even say, at this moment, I am certain that you hate me.”
+
+“Oh, you have never spoken so truly.”
+
+“Well, on my part, I detest you.”
+
+“Ah! I take the act.”
+
+“Take it. You find me brutal and foolish; on my part I find you have a harsh voice, and your face is too often distorted with anger. At this moment you would allow yourself to be thrown out of that window rather than allow me to kiss the tip of your finger; I would precipitate myself from the top of the balcony rather than touch the hem of your robe. But, in five minutes, you will love me, and I shall adore you. Oh, it is just so.”
+
+“I doubt it.”
+
+“And I swear it.”
+
+“Coxcomb!”
+
+“And then, that is not the true reason. You stand in need of me, Aure, and I of you. When it pleases you to be gay, I make you laugh; when it suits me to be loving, I look at you. I have given you a commission of lady of honor which you wished for; you will give me, presently, something I wish for.”
+
+“I will?”
+
+“Yes, you will; but, at this moment, my dear Aure, I declare to you that I wish for absolutely nothing, so be at ease.”
+
+“You are a frightful man, Malicorne; I was going to rejoice at getting this commission, and thus you quench my joy.”
+
+“Good; there is no time lost, -- you will rejoice when I am gone.”
+
+“Go, then; and after -- ”
+
+“So be it; but in the first place, a piece of advice.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Resume your good-humor, -- you are ugly when you pout.”
+
+“Coarse!”
+
+“Come, let us tell the truth to each other, while we are about it.”
+
+“Oh, Malicorne! Bad-hearted man!”
+
+“Oh, Montalais! Ungrateful girl!”
+
+The young man leant with his elbow upon the window-frame; Montalais took a book and opened it. Malicorne stood up, brushed his hat with his sleeve, smoothed down his black doublet; -- Montalais, though pretending to read, looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
+
+“Good!” cried she, furious; “he has assumed his respectful air -- and he will pout for a week.”
+
+“A fortnight, mademoiselle,” said Malicorne, bowing.
+
+Montalais lifted up her little doubled fist. “Monster!” said she; “oh! that I were a man!”
+
+“What would you do to me?”
+
+“I would strangle you.”
+
+“Ah! very well, then,” said Malicorne; “I believe I begin to desire something.”
+
+“And what do you desire, Monsieur Demon? That I should lose my soul from anger?”
+
+Malicorne was rolling his hat respectfully between his fingers; but, all at once, he let fall his hat, seized the young girl by the shoulders, pulled her towards him, and sealed her mouth with two lips that were very warm, for a man pretending to so much indifference. Aure would have cried out, but the cry was stifled in his kiss. Nervous and, apparently, angry, the young girl pushed Malicorne against the wall.
+
+“Good!” said Malicorne, philosophically, “that’s enough for six weeks. Adieu, mademoiselle, accept my very humble salutation.” And he made three steps towards the door.
+
+“Well! no, -- you shall not go!” cried Montalais, stamping with her little foot. “Stay where you are! I order you!”
+
+“You order me?”
+
+“Yes; am I not mistress?”
+
+“Of my heart and soul, without doubt.”
+
+“A pretty property! ma foi! The soul is silly and the heart dry.”
+
+“Beware, Montalais, I know you,” said Malicorne; “you are going to fall in love with your humble servant.”
+
+“Well, yes!” said she, hanging round his neck with childish indolence, rather than with loving abandonment. “Well, yes! for I must thank you at least.”
+
+“And for what?”
+
+“For the commission; is it not my whole future?”
+
+“And mine.”
+
+Montalais looked at him.
+
+“It is frightful,” said she, “that one can never guess whether you are speaking seriously or not.”
+
+“I cannot speak more seriously. I was going to Paris, -- you are going there, -- we are going there.”
+
+“And so it was for that motive only you have served me; selfish fellow!”
+
+“What would you have me say, Aure? I cannot live without you.”
+
+“Well! in truth, it is just so with me; you are, nevertheless, it must be confessed, a very bad-hearted young man.”
+
+“Aure, my dear Aure, take care! if you take to calling me names again, you know the effect they produce upon me, and I shall adore you.” And so saying, Malicorne drew the young girl a second time towards him. But at that instant a step resounded on the staircase. The young people were so close, that they would have been surprised in the arms of each other, if Montalais had not violently pushed Malicorne, with his back against the door, just then opening. A loud cry, followed by angry reproaches, immediately resounded. It was Madame de Saint-Remy who uttered the cry and the angry words. The unlucky Malicorne almost crushed her between the wall and the door she was coming in at.
+
+“It is again that good-for-nothing!” cried the old lady. “Always here!”
+
+“Ah, madame!” replied Malicorne, in a respectful tone; “it is eight long days since I was here.”
+
+Chapter III. In Which We at Length See the True Heroine of this History Appear.
+
+Behind Madame de Saint-Remy stood Mademoiselle de la Valliere. She heard the explosion of maternal anger, and as she divined the cause of it, she entered the chamber trembling, and perceived the unlucky Malicorne, whose woeful countenance might have softened or set laughing whoever observed it coolly. He had promptly intrenched himself behind a large chair, as if to avoid the first attacks of Madame de Saint-Remy; he had no hopes of prevailing with words, for she spoke louder than he, and without stopping; but he reckoned upon the eloquence of his gestures. The old lady would neither listen to nor see anything; Malicorne had long been one of her antipathies. But her anger was too great not to overflow from Malicorne on his accomplice. Montalais had her turn.
+
+“And you, mademoiselle; you may be certain I shall inform madame of what is going on in the apartment of one of her ladies of honor?”
+
+“Oh, dear mother!” cried Mademoiselle de la Valliere, “for mercy’s sake, spare -- ”
+
+“Hold your tongue, mademoiselle, and do not uselessly trouble yourself to intercede for unworthy people; that a young maid of honor like you should be subjected to a bad example is, certes, a misfortune great enough; but that you should sanction it by your indulgence is what I will not allow.”
+
+“But in truth,” said Montalais, rebelling again, “I do not know under what pretense you treat me thus. I am doing no harm, I suppose?”
+
+“And that great good-for-nothing, mademoiselle,” resumed Madame de Saint-Remy, pointing to Malicorne, “is he here to do any good, I ask you?”
+
+“He is neither here for good nor harm, madame; he comes to see me, that is all.”
+
+“It is all very well! all very well!” said the old lady. “Her royal highness shall be informed of it, and she will judge.”
+
+“At all events, I do not see why,” replied Montalais, “it should be forbidden M. Malicorne to have intentions towards me, if his intentions are honorable.”
+
+“Honorable intentions with such a face!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy.
+
+“I thank you in the name of my face, madame,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Come, my daughter, come,” continued Madame de Saint-Remy; “we will go and inform madame that at the very moment she is weeping for her husband, at the moment when we are all weeping for a master in this old castle of Blois, the abode of grief, there are people who amuse themselves with flirtations!”
+
+“Oh!” cried both the accused, with one voice.
+
+“A maid of honor! a maid of honor!” cried the old lady, lifting her hands towards heaven.
+
+“Well! it is there you are mistaken, madame,” said Montalais, highly exasperated; “I am no longer a maid of honor, of madame’s at least.”
+
+“Have you given in your resignation, mademoiselle? That is well! I cannot but applaud such a determination, and I do applaud it.”
+
+“I do not give in my resignation, madame; I take another service, -- that is all.”
+
+“In the bourgeoisie or in the robe?” asked Madame de Saint-Remy, disdainfully.
+
+“Please to learn, madame, that I am not a girl to serve either bourgeoises or robines; and that instead of the miserable court at which you vegetate, I am going to reside in a court almost royal.”
+
+“Ha, ha! a royal court,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, forcing a laugh; “a royal court! What do you think of that, my daughter?”
+
+And she turned towards Mademoiselle de la Valliere, whom she would by main force have dragged away from Montalais, and who instead of obeying the impulse of Madame de Saint-Remy, looked first at her mother and then at Montalais with her beautiful conciliatory eyes.
+
+“I did not say a royal court, madame,” replied Montalais; “because Madame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king.”
+
+A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonished Madame de Saint-Remy more than the last sentence of Montalais.
+
+“What do you say? of Son Altesse Royale Madame Henrietta?” stammered out the old lady.
+
+“I say I am going to belong to her household, as maid of honor; that is what I say.”
+
+“As maid of honor!” cried, at the same time, Madame de Saint-Remy with despair, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere with delight.
+
+“Yes, madame, as maid of honor.”
+
+The old lady’s head sank down as if the blow had been too severe for her. But, almost immediately recovering herself, she launched a last projectile at her adversary.
+
+“Oh! oh!” said she; “I have heard of many of these sorts of promises beforehand, which often lead people to flatter themselves with wild hopes, and at the last moment, when the time comes to keep the promises, and have the hopes realized, they are surprised to see the great credit upon which they reckoned vanish like smoke.”
+
+“Oh! madame, the credit of my protector is incontestable and his promises are as good as deeds.”
+
+“And would it be indiscreet to ask you the name of this powerful protector?”
+
+“Oh! mon Dieu! no! it is that gentleman there,” said Montalais, pointing to Malicorne, who, during this scene, had preserved the most imperturbable coolness, and the most comic dignity.
+
+“Monsieur!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy, with an explosion of hilarity, “monsieur is your protector! Is the man whose credit is so powerful, and whose promises are as good as deeds, Monsieur Malicorne!”
+
+Malicorne bowed.
+
+As to Montalais, as her sole reply, she drew the brevet from her pocket, and showed it to the old lady.
+
+“Here is the brevet,” said she.
+
+At once all was over. As soon as she had cast a rapid glance over this fortunate brevet, the good lady clasped her hands, an unspeakable expression of envy and despair contracted her countenance, and she was obliged to sit down to avoid fainting. Montalais was not malicious enough to rejoice extravagantly at her victory, or to overwhelm the conquered enemy, particularly when that enemy was the mother of her friend; she used then, but did not abuse her triumph. Malicorne was less generous; he assumed noble poses in his fauteuil and stretched himself out with a familiarity which, two hours earlier, would have drawn upon him threats of a caning.
+
+“Maid of honor to the young madame!” repeated Madame de Saint-Remy, still but half convinced.
+
+“Yes, madame, and through the protection of M. Malicorne, moreover.”
+
+“It is incredible!” repeated the old lady: “is it not incredible, Louise?” But Louise did not reply; she was sitting, thoughtfully, almost sad; passing one had over her beautiful brow, she sighed heavily.
+
+“Well, but, monsieur,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, all at once, “how did you manage to obtain this post?”
+
+“I asked for it, madame.”
+
+“Of whom?”
+
+“One of my friends.”
+
+“And you have friends sufficiently powerful at court to give you such proofs of their credit?”
+
+“It appears so.”
+
+“And may one ask the name of these friends?”
+
+“I did not say I had many friends, madame, I said I had one friend.”
+
+“And that friend is called?”
+
+“Peste! madame, you go too far! When one has a friend as powerful as mine, we do not publish his name in that fashion, in open day, in order that he may be stolen from us.”
+
+“You are right, monsieur, to be silent as to that name; for I think it would be pretty difficult for you to tell it.”
+
+“At all events,” said Montalais, “if the friend does not exist, the brevet does, and that cuts short the question.”
+
+“Then, I conceive,” said Madame de Saint-Remy, with the gracious smile of the cat who is going to scratch, “when I found monsieur here just now -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“He brought you the brevet.”
+
+“Exactly, madame; you have guessed rightly.”
+
+“Well, then, nothing can be more moral or proper.”
+
+“I think so, madame.”
+
+“And I have been wrong, as it appears, in reproaching you, mademoiselle.”
+
+“Very wrong, madame; but I am so accustomed to your reproaches, that I pardon you these.”
+
+“In that case, let us begone, Louise; we have nothing to do but retire. Well!”
+
+“Madame!” said La Valliere starting, “did you speak?”
+
+“You do not appear to be listening, my child.”
+
+“No, madame, I was thinking.”
+
+“About what?”
+
+“A thousand things.”
+
+“You bear me no ill-will, at least, Louise?” cried Montalais, pressing her hand.
+
+“And why should I, my dear Aure?” replied the girl in a voice soft as a flute.
+
+“Dame!” resumed Madame de Saint-Remy; “if she did bear you a little ill-will, poor girl, she could not be much blamed.”
+
+“And why should she bear me ill-will, good gracious?”
+
+“It appears to me that she is of as good a family, and as pretty as you.”
+
+“Mother! mother!” cried Louise.
+
+“Prettier a hundred times, madame -- not of a better family; but that does not tell me why Louise should bear me ill-will.”
+
+“Do you think it will be very amusing for her to be buried alive at Blois, when you are going to shine at Paris?”
+
+“But, madame, it is not I who prevent Louise following me thither; on the contrary, I should certainly be most happy if she came there.”
+
+“But it appears that M. Malicorne, who is all-powerful at court -- ”
+
+“Ah! so much the worse, madame,” said Malicorne, “every one for himself in this poor world.”
+
+“Malicorne! Malicorne!” said Montalais. Then stooping towards the young man: -- 
+
+“Occupy Madame de Saint-Remy, either in disputing with her, or making it up with her; I must speak to Louise.” And, at the same time, a soft pressure of the hand recompensed Malicorne for his future obedience. Malicorne went grumbling towards Madame de Saint-Remy, whilst Montalais said to her friend, throwing one arm around her neck: -- 
+
+“What is the matter? Tell me. Is it true that you would not love me if I were to shine, as your mother says?”
+
+“Oh, no!” said the young girl, with difficulty restraining her tears; “on the contrary, I rejoice at your good fortune.”
+
+“Rejoice! why, one would say you are ready to cry!”
+
+“Do people never weep except from envy?”
+
+“Oh! yes, I understand; I am going to Paris and that word Paris recalls to your mind a certain cavalier -- ”
+
+“Aure!”
+
+“A certain cavalier who formerly lived near Blois, and who now resides at Paris.”
+
+“In truth, I know not what ails me, but I feel stifled.”
+
+“Weep, then, weep, as you cannot give me a smile!”
+
+Louise raised her sweet face, which the tears, rolling down one after the other, illumined like diamonds.
+
+“Come, confess,” said Montalais.
+
+“What shall I confess?”
+
+“What makes you weep; people don’t weep without cause. I am your friend; whatever you would wish me to do, I will do. Malicorne is more powerful than you would think. Do you wish to go to Paris?”
+
+“Alas!” sighed Louise.
+
+“Do you wish to come to Paris?”
+
+“To remain here alone, in this old castle, I who have enjoyed the delightful habit of listening to your songs, of pressing your hand, of running about the park with you. Oh! how I shall be ennuyee! how quickly I shall die!”
+
+“Do you wish to come to Paris?”
+
+Louise breathed another sigh.
+
+“You do not answer me.”
+
+“What would you that I should reply?”
+
+“Yes or no; that is not very difficult, I think.”
+
+“Oh! you are very fortunate, Montalais!”
+
+“That is to say you would like to be in my place.”
+
+Louise was silent.
+
+“Little obstinate thing!” said Montalais; “did ever any one keep her secrets from her friend thus? But, confess that you would like to come to Paris; confess that you are dying with the wish to see Raoul again.”
+
+“I cannot confess that.”
+
+“Then you are wrong.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Because -- do you not see this brevet?”
+
+“To be sure I do.”
+
+“Well, I would have got you a similar one.”
+
+“By whose means?”
+
+“Malicorne’s.”
+
+“Aure, are you telling the truth? Is that possible?”
+
+“Malicorne is there; and what he has done for me, he surely can do for you.”
+
+Malicorne had heard his name pronounced twice; he was delighted at having an opportunity of coming to a conclusion with Madame de Saint-Remy, and he turned round: -- 
+
+“What is the question, mademoiselle?”
+
+“Come hither, Malicorne,” said Montalais, with an imperious gesture. Malicorne obeyed.
+
+“A brevet like this,” said Montalais.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“A brevet like this; that is plain enough.”
+
+“But -- ”
+
+“I want one -- I must have one!”
+
+“Oh! oh! you must have one!”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It is impossible, is it not, M. Malicorne?” said Louise, with her sweet, soft voice.
+
+“If it is for you, mademoiselle -- ”
+
+“For me. Yes, Monsieur Malicorne, it would be for me.”
+
+“And if Mademoiselle de Montalais asks it at the same time -- ”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Montalais does not ask it, she requires it.”
+
+“Well! we will endeavor to obey you, mademoiselle.”
+
+“And you will have her named?”
+
+“We will try.”
+
+“No evasive answers, Louise de la Valliere shall be maid of honor to Madame Henrietta within a week.”
+
+“How you talk!”
+
+“Within a week, or else -- ”
+
+“Well! or else?”
+
+“You may take back your brevet, Monsieur Malicorne; I will not leave my friend.”
+
+“Dear Montalais!”
+
+“That is right. Keep your brevet; Mademoiselle de la Valliere shall be a maid of honor.”
+
+“Is that true?”
+
+“Quite true.”
+
+“I may then hope to go to Paris?”
+
+“Depend on it.”
+
+“Oh! Monsieur Malicorne, what joy!” cried Louise, clapping her hands, and bounding with pleasure.
+
+“Little dissembler!” said Montalais, “try again to make me believe you are not in love with Raoul.”
+
+Louise blushed like a rose in June, but instead of replying, she ran and embraced her mother. “Madame,” said she, “do you know that M. Malicorne is going to have me appointed maid of honor?”
+
+“M. Malicorne is a prince in disguise,” replied the old lady, “he is all-powerful, seemingly.”
+
+“Should you also like to be a maid of honor?” asked Malicorne of Madame de Saint-Remy. “Whilst I am about it, I might as well get everybody appointed.”
+
+And upon that he went away, leaving the poor lady quite disconcerted.
+
+“Humph!” murmured Malicorne as he descended the stairs, -- “Humph! there goes another note of a thousand livres! but I must get through as well as I can; my friend Manicamp does nothing for nothing.”
+
+Chapter IV. Malicorne and Manicamp.
+
+The introduction of these two new personages into this history and that mysterious affinity of names and sentiments, merit some attention on the part of both historian and reader. We will then enter into some details concerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne, we know, had made the journey to Orleans in search of the brevet destined for Mademoiselle de Montalais, the arrival of which had produced such a strong feeling at the castle of Blois. At that moment, M. de Manicamp was at Orleans. A singular person was this M. de Manicamp; a very intelligent young fellow, always poor, always needy, although he dipped his hand freely into the purse of M. le Comte de Guiche, one of the best furnished purses of the period. M. le Comte de Guiche had had, as the companion of his boyhood, this De Manicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-born, of the house of Gramont. M. de Manicamp, with his tact and talent had created himself a revenue in the opulent family of the celebrated marechal. From his infancy he had, with calculation beyond his age, lent his mane and complaisance to the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his noble companion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame la Marechale, if he had broken a mirror, or put out a dog’s eye, Manicamp declared himself guilty of the crime committed, and received the punishment, which was not made the milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the way this system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearing such mean habiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled him to, he was able to appear brilliant, superb, like a young noble of fifty thousand livres a year. It was not that he was mean in character or humble in spirit; no, he was a philosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy, the obstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of the supernatural. His sole ambition was to spend money. But, in this respect, the worthy M. de Manicamp was a gulf. Three or four times every year he drained the Comte de Guiche, and when the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when he had turned out his pockets and his purse before him, when he declared that it would be at least a fortnight before paternal munificence would refill those pockets and that purse, Manicamp lost all his energy, he went to bed, remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes, under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not want them. During this prostration of mind and strength, the purse of the Comte de Guiche was getting full again, and when once filled, overflowed into that of De Manicamp, who bought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommenced the same life he had followed before. The mania of selling his new clothes for a quarter of what they were worth, had rendered our hero sufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a city where, in general, we should be puzzled to say why he came to pass his days of penitence. Provincial debauches, petits-maitres of six hundred livres a year, shared the fragments of his opulence.
+
+Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friend Malicorne was conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of the city, of whom M. de Conde, always needy as a De Conde, often borrowed money at enormous interest. M. Malicorne kept the paternal money-chest; that is to say, that in those times of easy morals, he had made for himself, by following the example of his father, and lending at high interest for short terms, a revenue of eighteen hundred livres, without reckoning six hundred livres furnished by the generosity of the syndic; so that Malicorne was the king of the gay youth of Orleans, having two thousand four hundred livres to scatter, squander, and waste on follies of every kind. But, quite contrary to Manicamp, Malicorne was terribly ambitious. He loved from ambition; he spent money out of ambition; and he would have ruined himself for ambition. Malicorne had determined to rise, at whatever price it might cost, and for this, whatever price it did cost, he had given himself a mistress and a friend. The mistress, Mademoiselle de Montalais, was cruel, as regarded love; but she was of a noble family, and that was sufficient for Malicorne. The friend had little or no friendship, but he was the favorite of the Comte de Guiche, himself the friend of Monsieur, the king’s brother; and that was sufficient for Malicorne. Only, in the chapter of charges, Mademoiselle de Montalais cost per annum: -- ribbons, gloves, and sweets, a thousand livres. De Manicamp cost -- money lent, never returned -- from twelve to fifteen hundred livres per annum. So that there was nothing left for Malicorne. Ah! yes, we are mistaken; there was left the paternal strong box. He employed a mode of proceeding, upon which he preserved the most profound secrecy, and which consisted in advancing to himself, from the coffers of the syndic, half a dozen year’s profits, that is to say, fifteen thousand livres, swearing to himself -- observe, quite to himself -- to repay this deficiency as soon as an opportunity should present itself. The opportunity was expected to be the concession of a good post in the household of Monsieur, when that household would be established at the period of his marriage. This juncture had arrived, and the household was about to be established. A good post in the family of a prince of the blood, when it is given by the credit, and on the recommendation of a friend, like the Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelve thousand livres per annum; and by the means which M. Malicorne had taken to make his revenues fructify, twelve thousand livres might rise to twenty thousand. Then, when once an incumbent of this post, he would marry Mademoiselle de Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noble family, not only would be dowered, but would ennoble Malicorne. But, in order that Mademoiselle de Montalais, who had not a large patrimonial fortune, although an only daughter, should be suitably dowered, it was necessary that she should belong to some great princess, as prodigal as the dowager Madame was covetous. And in order that the wife should not be of one party whilst the husband belonged to the other, a situation which presents serious inconveniences, particularly with characters like those of the future consorts -- Malicorne had imagined the idea of making the central point of union the household of Monsieur, the king’s brother. Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maid of honor to Madame. M. Malicorne would be officer to Monsieur.
+
+It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it is plain, also, that it had been bravely executed. Malicorne had asked Manicamp to ask a brevet of maid of honor of the Comte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guiche had asked this brevet of Monsieur, who had signed it without hesitation. The constructive plan of Malicorne -- for we may well suppose that the combinations of a mind as active as his were not confined to the present, but extended to the future -- the constructive plan of Malicorne, we say, was this: -- To obtain entrance into the household of Madame Henrietta for a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young, handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman, all the feminine secrets of the young household; whilst he, Malicorne, and his friend Manicamp, should, between them, know all the male secrets of the young community. It was by these means that a rapid and splendid fortune might be acquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vile name; he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truth from himself; but an estate might be purchased; and Malicorne of some place, or even De Malicorne itself, for short, would ring more nobly on the ear.
+
+It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin might be hunted up by the heralds for this name of Malicorne; might it not come from some estate where a bull with mortal horns had caused some great misfortune, and baptized the soil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this plan presented itself bristling with difficulties: but the greatest of all was Mademoiselle de Montalais herself. Capricious, variable, close, giddy, free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained with grapes, she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her white fingers, or with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice which had exhausted Malicorne’s patience for a month.
+
+Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which he could not help feeling, he had the strength to conceal with care; persuaded that at the least relaxing of the ties by which he had bound his Protean female, the demon would overthrow and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress by disdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced to tempt him, he had the art to appear ice, persuaded that if he opened his arms, she would run away laughing at him. On her side, Montalais believed she did not love Malicorne; whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did. Malicorne repeated to her so often his protestation of indifference, that she finished, sometimes, by believing him; and then she believed she detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring him back by coquetry, Malicorne played the coquette better than she could. But what made Montalais hold to Malicorne in an indissoluble fashion, was that Malicorne always came cram full of fresh news from the court and the city; Malicorne always brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or a perfume; that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on the contrary, required to be supplicated to receive the favors he burned to obtain. On her side, Montalais was no miser with stories. By her means, Malicorne learnt all that passed at Blois, in the family of the dowager Madame; and he related to Manicamp tales that made him ready to die with laughing, which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. de Guiche, who carried them to Monsieur.
+
+Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests and petty conspiracies which united Blois with Orleans, and Orleans with Pairs; and which was about to bring into the last named city where she was to produce so great a revolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was far from suspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm of her mother, for what a strange future she was reserved. As to the good man, Malicorne -- we speak of the syndic of Orleans -- he did not see more clearly into the present than others did into the future; and had no suspicion as he walked, every day, between three and five o’clock, after his dinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat, cut after the fashion of Louis XIII. and his cloth shoes with great knots of ribbon, that it was he who was paying for all those bursts of laughter, all those stolen kisses, all those whisperings, all those little keepsakes, and all those bubble projects which formed a chain of forty-five leagues in length, from the palais of Blois to the Palais Royal.
+
+Chapter V: Manicamp and Malicorne.
+
+Malicorne, then, left Blois, as we have said, and went to find his friend, Manicamp, then in temporary retreat in the city of Orleans. It was just at the moment when that young nobleman was employed in selling the last decent clothing he had left. He had, a fortnight before, extorted from the Comte de Guiche a hundred pistoles, all he had, to assist in equipping him properly to go and meet Madame, on her arrival at Le Havre. He had drawn from Malicorne, three days before, fifty pistoles, the price of the brevet obtained for Montalais. He had then no expectation of anything else, having exhausted all his resources, with the exception of selling a handsome suit of cloth and satin, embroidered and laced with gold, which had been the admiration of the court. But to be able to sell this suit, the last he had left, -- as we have been forced to confess to the reader -- Manicamp had been obliged to take to his bed. No more fire, no more pocket-money, no more walking-money, nothing but sleep to take the place of repasts, companies and balls. It has been said -- “He who sleeps, dines;” but it has never been affirmed -- He who sleeps, plays -- or, He who sleeps, dances. Manicamp, reduced to this extremity of neither playing nor dancing, for a week at least, was, consequently, very sad; he was expecting a usurer, and saw Malicorne enter. A cry of distress escaped him.
+
+“Eh! what!” said he, in a tone which nothing can describe, “is that you again, dear friend?”
+
+“Humph! you are very polite!” said Malicorne.
+
+“Ay, but look you, I was expecting money, and, instead of money, I see you.”
+
+“And suppose I brought you some money?”
+
+“Oh! that would be quite another thing. You are very welcome, my dear friend!”
+
+And he held out his hand, not for the hand of Malicorne, but for the purse. Malicorne pretended to be mistaken, and gave him his hand.
+
+“And the money?” said Manicamp.
+
+“My dear friend, if you wish to have it, earn it.”
+
+“What must be done for it?”
+
+“Earn it, parbleu!”
+
+“And after what fashion?”
+
+“Oh! that is rather trying, I warn you.”
+
+“The devil!”
+
+“You must get out of bed, and go immediately to M. le Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“I get up!” said Manicamp, stretching himself in his bed, complacently, “oh, no, thank you!”
+
+“You have sold all your clothes?”
+
+“No, I have one suit left, the handsomest even, but I expect a purchaser.”
+
+“And the chausses?”
+
+“Well, if you look, you will see them on that chair.”
+
+“Very well! since you have some chausses and a pourpoint left, put your legs into the first and your back into the other; have a horse saddled, and set off.”
+
+“Not I.”
+
+“And why not?”
+
+“Morbleu! don’t you know, then, that M. de Guiche is at Etampes?”
+
+“No, I thought he was at Paris. You will then only have fifteen leagues to go, instead of thirty.”
+
+“You are a wonderfully clever fellow! If I were to ride fifteen leagues in these clothes, they would never be fit to put on again; and, instead of selling them for thirty pistoles, I should be obliged to take fifteen.”
+
+“Sell them for whatever you like, but I must have a second commission of maid of honor.”
+
+“Good! for whom? Is Montalais doubled, then?”
+
+“Vile fellow! -- It is you who are doubled. You swallow up two fortunes -- mine, and that of M. le Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“You should say, that of M. le Comte de Guiche and yours.”
+
+“That is true; honor where it is due; but I return to my brevet.”
+
+“And you are wrong.”
+
+“Prove me that.”
+
+“My friend, there will only be twelve maids of honor for madame; I have already obtained for you what twelve hundred women are trying for, and for that I was forced to employ all my diplomacy.”
+
+“Oh! yes, I know you have been quite heroic, my dear friend.”
+
+“We know what we are about,” said Manicamp.
+
+“To whom do you tell that? When I am king, I promise you one thing.”
+
+“What? To call yourself Malicorne the First?”
+
+“No; to make you superintendent of my finances; but that is not the question now.”
+
+“Unfortunately.”
+
+“The present affair is to procure for me a second place of maid of honor.”
+
+“My friend, if you were to promise me the price of heaven, I would decline to disturb myself at this moment.”
+
+Malicorne chinked the money in his pocket.
+
+“There are twenty pistoles here,” said Malicorne.
+
+“And what would you do with twenty pistoles, mon Dieu!”
+
+“Well!” said Malicorne, a little angry, “suppose I were to add them to the five hundred you already owe me?”
+
+“You are right,” replied Manicamp, stretching out his hand again, “and from that point of view I can accept them. Give them to me.”
+
+“An instant, what the devil! it is not only holding out your hand that will do; if I give you the twenty pistoles, shall I have my brevet?”
+
+“To be sure you shall.”
+
+“Soon?”
+
+“To-day.”
+
+“Oh! take care! Monsieur de Manicamp; you undertake much, and I do not ask that. Thirty leagues in a day is too much, you would kill yourself.”
+
+“I think nothing impossible when obliging a friend.”
+
+“You are quite heroic.”
+
+“Where are the twenty pistoles?”
+
+“Here they are,” said Malicorne, showing them.
+
+“That’s well.”
+
+“Yes, but my dear M. Manicamp, you would consume them in post-horses alone!”
+
+“No, no, make yourself easy on that score.”
+
+“Pardon me. Why, it is fifteen leagues from this place to Etampes?”
+
+“Fourteen.”
+
+“Well! fourteen be it; fourteen leagues makes seven posts; at twenty sous the post, seven livres; seven livres the courier, fourteen; as many for coming back, twenty-eight! as much for bed and supper, that makes sixty livres this complaisance would cost.”
+
+Manicamp stretched himself like a serpent in his bed, and fixing his two great eyes upon Malicorne, “You are right,” said he; “I could not return before to-morrow;” and he took the twenty pistoles.
+
+“Now, then, be off!”
+
+“Well, as I cannot be back before to-morrow, we have time.”
+
+“Time for what?”
+
+“Time to play.”
+
+“What do you wish to play with?”
+
+“Your twenty pistoles, pardieu!”
+
+“No; you always win.”
+
+“I will wager them, then.”
+
+“Against what?”
+
+“Against twenty others.”
+
+“And what shall be the object of the wager?”
+
+“This. We have said it was fourteen leagues to Etampes.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And fourteen leagues back?”
+
+“Doubtless.”
+
+“Well; for these twenty-eight leagues you cannot allow less than fourteen hours?”
+
+“That is agreed.”
+
+“One hour to find the Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“Go on.”
+
+“And an hour to persuade him to write a letter to Monsieur.”
+
+“Just so.”
+
+“Sixteen hours in all?”
+
+“You reckon as well as M. Colbert.”
+
+“It is now twelve o’clock.”
+
+“Half-past.”
+
+“Hein! -- you have a handsome watch!”
+
+“What were you saying?” said Malicorne, putting his watch quickly back into his fob.
+
+“Ah! true; I was offering to lay you twenty pistoles against these you have lent me, that you will have the Comte de Guiche’s letter in -- ”
+
+“How soon?”
+
+“In eight hours.”
+
+“Have you a winged horse, then?”
+
+“That is no matter. Will you bet?”
+
+“I shall have the comte’s letter in eight hours?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“In hand?”
+
+“In hand.”
+
+“Well, be it so; I lay,” said Malicorne, curious enough to know how this seller of clothes would get through.
+
+“Is it agreed?”
+
+“It is.”
+
+“Pass me the pen, ink, and paper.”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Manicamp raised himself with a sigh, and leaning on his left elbow, in his best hand, traced the following lines: -- 
+
+“Good for an order for a place of maid of honor to Madame, which M. le Comte de Guiche will take upon him to obtain at sight. DE MANICAMP.”
+
+This painful task accomplished, he laid himself down in bed again.
+
+“Well!” asked Malicorne, “what does this mean?”
+
+“That means that if you are in a hurry to have the letter from the Comte de Guiche for Monsieur, I have won my wager.”
+
+“How the devil is that?”
+
+“That is transparent enough, I think; you take that paper.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“And you set out instead of me.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“You put your horses to their best speed.”
+
+“Good!”
+
+“In six hours you will be at Etampes; in seven hours you have the letter from the comte, and I shall have won my wager without stirring from my bed, which suits me and you too, at the same time, I am very sure.”
+
+“Decidedly, Manicamp, you are a great man.”
+
+“Hein! I know that.”
+
+“I am to start then for Etampes?”
+
+“Directly.”
+
+“I am to go to the Comte de Guiche with this order?”
+
+“He will give you a similar one for Monsieur.”
+
+“Monsieur will approve?”
+
+“Instantly.”
+
+“And I shall have my brevet?”
+
+“You will.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Well, I hope I behave genteely?”
+
+“Adorably.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“You do as you please, then, with the Comte de Guiche, Manicamp?”
+
+“Except making money of him -- everything?”
+
+“Diable! the exception is annoying; but then, if instead of asking him for money, you were to ask -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Something important.”
+
+“What do you call important?”
+
+“Well! suppose one of your friends asked you to render him a service?”
+
+“I would not render it to him.”
+
+“Selfish fellow!”
+
+“Or at least I would ask him what service he would render me in exchange.”
+
+“Ah! that, perhaps, is fair. Well, that friend speaks to you.”
+
+“What, you, Malicorne?”
+
+“Yes; I.”
+
+“Ah! ah! you are rich, then?”
+
+“I have still fifty pistoles left.”
+
+“Exactly the sum I want. Where are those fifty pistoles?”
+
+“Here,” said Malicorne, slapping his pocket.
+
+“Then speak, my friend; what do you want?”
+
+Malicorne took up the pen, ink, and paper again, and presented them all to Manicamp. “Write!” said he.
+
+“Dictate!”
+
+“An order for a place in the household of Monsieur.”
+
+“Oh!” said Manicamp, laying down the pen, “a place in the household of Monsieur for fifty pistoles?”
+
+“You mistook me, my friend; you did not hear plainly.”
+
+“What did you say, then?”
+
+“I said five hundred.”
+
+“And the five hundred?”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+Manicamp devoured the rouleau with his eyes; but this time Malicorne held it at a distance.
+
+“Eh! what do you say to that? Five hundred pistoles.”
+
+“I say it is for nothing, my friend,” said Manicamp, taking up the pen again, “and you exhaust my credit. Dictate.”
+
+Malicorne continued:
+
+“Which my friend the Comte de Guiche will obtain for my friend Malicorne.”
+
+“That’s it,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Pardon me, you have forgotten to sign.”
+
+“Ah! that is true. The five hundred pistoles?”
+
+“Here are two hundred and fifty of them.”
+
+“And the other two hundred and fifty?”
+
+“When I am in possession of my place.”
+
+Manicamp made a face.
+
+“In that case give me the recommendation back again.”
+
+“What to do?”
+
+“To add two words to it.”
+
+“Two words?”
+
+“Yes; two words only.”
+
+“What are they?”
+
+“In haste.”
+
+Malicorne returned the recommendation; Manicamp added the words.
+
+“Good,” said Malicorne, taking back the paper.
+
+Manicamp began to count out the pistoles.
+
+“There want twenty,” said he.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“The twenty I have won.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“By laying that you would have the letter from the Comte de Guiche in eight hours.”
+
+“Ah! that’s fair,” and he gave him the twenty pistoles.
+
+Manicamp began to scoop up his gold by handfuls, and pour it in cascades upon his bed.
+
+“This second place,” murmured Malicorne, whilst drying his paper, “which, at first glance appears to cost me more than the first, but -- ” He stopped, took up the pen in his turn, and wrote to Montalais: -- 
+
+“MADEMOISELLE, -- Announce to your friend that her commission will not be long before it arrives; I am setting out to get it signed: that will be twenty-eight leagues I shall have gone for the love of you.”
+
+Then with his sardonic smile, taking up the interrupted sentence: -- “This place,” said he, “at first glance, appears to have cost more than the first; but -- the benefit will be, I hope, in proportion with the expense, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere will bring me back more than Mademoiselle de Montalais, or else, -- or else my name is not Malicorne. Farewell, Manicamp,” and he left the room.
+
+Chapter VI. The Courtyard of the Hotel Grammont.
+
+On Malicorne’s arrival at Orleans, he was informed that the Comte de Guiche had just set out for Paris. Malicorne rested himself for a couple of hours, and then prepared to continue his journey. He reached Paris during the night, and alighted at a small hotel, where, in his previous journeys to the capital, he had been accustomed to put up, and at eight o’clock the next morning presented himself at the Hotel Grammont. Malicorne arrived just in time, for the Comte de Guiche was on the point of taking leave of Monsieur before setting out for Le Havre, where the principal members of the French nobility had gone to await Madame’s arrival from England. Malicorne pronounced the name of Manicamp, and was immediately admitted. He found the Comte de Guiche in the courtyard of the Hotel Grammont, inspecting his horses, which his trainers and equerries were passing in review before him. The count, in the presence of his tradespeople and of his servants, was engaged in praising or blaming, as the case seemed to deserve, the appointments, horses, and harness that were being submitted to him; when, in the midst of this important occupation, the name of Manicamp was announced.
+
+“Manicamp!” he exclaimed; “let him enter by all means.” And he advanced a few steps toward the door.
+
+Malicorne slipped through the half-open door, and looking at the Comte de Guiche, who was surprised to see a face he did not recognize, instead of the one he expected, said: “Forgive me, monsieur le comte, but I believe a mistake has been made. M. Manicamp himself was announced to you, instead of which it is only an envoy from him.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed De Guiche, coldly; “and what do you bring me?”
+
+“A letter, monsieur le comte.” Malicorne handed him the first document, and narrowly watched the count’s face, who, as he read it, began to laugh.
+
+“What!” he exclaimed, “another maid of honor? Are all the maids of honor in France, then, under his protection?”
+
+Malicorne bowed.
+
+“Why does he not come himself?” he inquired.
+
+“He is confined to his bed.”
+
+“The deuce! he has no money then, I suppose,” said De Guiche, shrugging his shoulders. “What does he do with his money?”
+
+Malicorne made a movement, to indicate that upon this subject he was as ignorant as the count himself. “Why does he not make use of his credit, then?” continued De Guiche.
+
+“With regard to that, I think -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“That Manicamp has credit with no one but yourself, monsieur le comte!”
+
+“He will not be at Le Havre, then?” Whereupon Malicorne made another movement.
+
+“But every one will be there.”
+
+“I trust, monsieur le comte, that he will not neglect so excellent an opportunity.”
+
+“He should be at Paris by this time.”
+
+“He will take the direct road perhaps to make up for lost time.”
+
+“Where is he now?”
+
+“At Orleans.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said De Guiche, “you seem to me a man of very good taste.”
+
+Malicorne was wearing some of Manicamp’s old-new clothes. He bowed in return, saying, “You do me a very great honor, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?”
+
+“My name is Malicorne, monsieur.”
+
+“M. de Malicorne, what do you think of these pistol-holsters?”
+
+Malicorne was a man of great readiness and immediately understood the position of affairs. Besides, the “de” which had been prefixed to his name, raised him to the rank of the person with whom he was conversing. He looked at the holsters with the air of a connoisseur and said, without hesitation: “Somewhat heavy, monsieur.”
+
+“You see,” said De Guiche to the saddler, “this gentleman, who understands these matters well, thinks the holsters heavy, a complaint I had already made.” The saddler was full of excuses.
+
+“What do you think,” asked De Guiche, “of this horse, which I have just purchased?”
+
+“To look at it, it seems perfect, monsieur le comte; but I must mount it before I give you my opinion.”
+
+“Do so, M. de Malicorne, and ride him round the court two or three times.”
+
+The courtyard of the hotel was so arranged, that whenever there was any occasion for it, it could be used as a riding-school. Malicorne, with perfect ease, arranged the bridle and snaffle-reins, placed his left hand on the horse’s mane, and, with his foot in the stirrup, raised himself and seated himself in the saddle. At first, he made the horse walk the whole circuit of the court-yard at a foot-pace; next at a trot; lastly at a gallop. He then drew up close to the count, dismounted, and threw the bridle to a groom standing by. “Well,” said the count, “what do you think of it, M. de Malicorne?”
+
+“This horse, monsieur le comte, is of the Mecklenburg breed. In looking whether the bit suited his mouth, I saw that he was rising seven, the very age when the training of a horse intended for a charger should commence. The forehand is light. A horse which holds its head high, it is said, never tires his rider’s hand. The withers are rather low. The drooping of the hind-quarters would almost make me doubt the purity of its German breed, and I think there is English blood in him. He stands well on his legs, but he trots high, and may cut himself, which requires attention to be paid to his shoeing. He is tractable; and as I made him turn round and change his feet, I found him quick and ready in doing so.”
+
+“Well said, M. de Malicorne,” exclaimed the comte; “you are a judge of horses, I perceive;” then, turning towards him again, he continued, “you are most becomingly dressed, M. de Malicorne. That is not a provincial cut, I presume. Such a style of dress is not to be met with at Tours or Orleans.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte; my clothes were made at Paris.”
+
+“There is no doubt about that. But let us resume our own affair. Manicamp wishes for the appointment of a second maid of honor.”
+
+“You perceive what he has written, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“For whom was the first appointment?”
+
+Malicorne felt the color rise in his face as he answered hurriedly.
+
+“A charming maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Ah, ah! you are acquainted with her?”
+
+“We are affianced, or nearly so.”
+
+“That is quite another thing, then; a thousand compliments,” exclaimed De Guiche, upon whose lips a courtier’s jest was already fitting, but to whom the word “affianced,” addressed by Malicorne with respect to Mademoiselle de Montalais, recalled the respect due to women.
+
+“And for whom is the second appointment destined?” asked De Guiche; “is it for anyone to whom Manicamp may happen to be affianced? In that case I pity her, poor girl! for she will have a sad fellow for a husband.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte; the second appointment is for Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere.”
+
+“Unknown,” said De Guiche.
+
+“Unknown? yes, monsieur,” said Malicorne, smiling in his turn.
+
+“Very good. I will speak to Monsieur about it. By the by, she is of gentle birth?”
+
+“She belongs to a very good family and is maid of honor to Madame.”
+
+“That’s well. Will you accompany me to Monsieur?”
+
+“Most certainly, if I may be permitted the honor.”
+
+“Have you your carriage?”
+
+“No; I came here on horseback.”
+
+“Dressed as you are?”
+
+“No, monsieur; I posted from Orleans, and I changed my traveling suit for the one I have on, in order to present myself to you.”
+
+“True, you already told me you had come from Orleans;” saying which he crumpled Manicamp’s letter in his hand, and thrust it in his pocket.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” said Malicorne, timidly; “but I do not think you have read all.”
+
+“Not read all, do you say?”
+
+“No; there were two letters in the same envelope.”
+
+“Oh! are you sure?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“Let us look, then,” said the count, as he opened the letter again.
+
+“Ah! you are right,” he said opening the paper which he had not yet read.
+
+“I suspected it,” he continued -- “another application for an appointment under Monsieur. This Manicamp is a regular vampire: -- he is carrying on a trade in it.”
+
+“No, monsieur le comte, he wishes to make a present of it.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“To myself, monsieur.”
+
+“Why did you not say so at once, my dear M. Mauvaisecorne?”
+
+“Malicorne, monsieur le comte.”
+
+“Forgive me; it is that Latin that bothers me -- that terrible mine of etymologies. Why the deuce are young men of family taught Latin? Mala and mauvaise -- you understand it is the same thing. You will forgive me, I trust, M. de Malicorne.”
+
+“Your kindness affects me much, monsieur: but it is a reason why I should make you acquainted with one circumstance without any delay.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That I was not born a gentleman. I am not without courage, and not altogether deficient in ability; but my name is Malicorne simply.”
+
+“You appear to me, monsieur!” exclaimed the count, looking at the astute face of his companion, “to be a most agreeable man. Your face pleases me, M. Malicorne, and you must possess some indisputably excellent qualities to have pleased that egotistical Manicamp. Be candid and tell me whether you are not some saint descended upon the earth.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“For the simple reason that he makes you a present of anything. Did you not say that he intended to make you a present of some appointment in the king’s household?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, count; but, if I succeed in obtaining the appointment, you, and not he, will have bestowed it on me.”
+
+“Besides he will not have given it to you for nothing, I suppose. Stay, I have it; -- there is a Malicorne at Orleans who lends money to the prince.”
+
+“I think that must be my father, monsieur.”
+
+“Ah! the prince has the father, and that terrible dragon of a Manicamp has the son. Take care, monsieur, I know him. He will fleece you completely.”
+
+“The only difference is, that I lend without interest,” said Malicorne, smiling.
+
+“I was correct in saying you were either a saint or very much resembled one. M. Malicorne, you shall have the post you want, or I will forfeit my name.”
+
+“Ah! monsieur le comte, what a debt of gratitude shall I not owe you?” said Malicorne, transported.
+
+“Let us go to the prince, my dear M. Malicorne.” And De Guiche proceeded toward the door, desiring Malicorne to follow him. At the very moment they were about to cross the threshold, a young man appeared on the other side. He was from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, of pale complexion, bright eyes and brown hair and eyebrows. “Good-day,” said he, suddenly, almost pushing De Guiche back into the courtyard again.
+
+“Is that you, De Wardes? -- What! and booted, spurred and whip in hand, too?”
+
+“The most befitting costume for a man about to set off for Le Havre. There will be no one left in Paris to-morrow.” And hereupon he saluted Malicorne with great ceremony, whose handsome dress gave him the appearance of a prince.
+
+“M. Malicorne,” said De Guiche to his friend. De Wardes bowed.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” said Guiche to Malicorne, who bowed in return. “By the by, De Wardes,” continued De Guiche, “you who are so well acquainted with these matters, can you tell us, probably, what appointments are still vacant at the court; or rather in the prince’s household?”
+
+“In the prince’s household,” said De Wardes looking up with an air of consideration, “let me see -- the appointment of the master of the horse is vacant, I believe.”
+
+“Oh,” said Malicorne, “there is no question of such a post as that, monsieur; my ambition is not nearly so exalted.”
+
+De Wardes had a more penetrating observation than De Guiche, and fathomed Malicorne immediately. “The fact is,” he said, looking at him from head to foot, “a man must be either a duke or a peer to fill that post.”
+
+“All I solicit,” said Malicorne, “is a very humble appointment; I am of little importance, and I do not rank myself above my position.”
+
+“M. Malicorne, whom you see here,” said De Guiche to De Wardes, “is a very excellent fellow, whose only misfortune is that of not being of gentle birth. As far as I am concerned, you know, I attach little value to those who have but gentle birth to boast of.”
+
+“Assuredly,” said De Wardes; “but will you allow me to remark, my dear count, that, without rank of some sort, one can hardly hope to belong to his royal highness’s household?”
+
+“You are right,” said the count, “court etiquette is absolute. The devil! -- we never so much as gave it a thought.”
+
+“Alas! a sad misfortune for me, monsieur le comte,” said Malicorne, changing color.
+
+“Yet not without remedy, I hope,” returned De Guiche.
+
+“The remedy is found easily enough,” exclaimed De Wardes; “you can be created a gentleman. His Eminence, the Cardinal Mazarin, did nothing else from morning till night.”
+
+“Hush, hush, De Wardes,” said the count; “no jests of that kind; it ill becomes us to turn such matters into ridicule. Letters of nobility, it is true, are purchasable; but that is a sufficient misfortune without the nobles themselves laughing at it.”
+
+“Upon my word, De Guiche, you’re quite a Puritan, as the English say.”
+
+At this moment the Vicomte de Bragelonne was announced by one of the servants in the courtyard, in precisely the same manner as he would have done in a room.
+
+“Come here, my dear Raoul. What! you, too, booted and spurred? You are setting off, then?”
+
+Bragelonne approached the group of young men, and saluted them with that quiet and serious manner peculiar to him. His salutation was principally addressed to De Wardes, with whom he was unacquainted, and whose features, on his perceiving Raoul, had assumed a strange sternness of expression. “I have come, De Guiche,” he said, “to ask your companionship. We set off for Le Havre, I presume.”
+
+“This is admirable -- delightful. We shall have a most enjoyable journey. M. Malicorne, M. Bragelonne -- ah! M. de Wardes, let me present you.” The young men saluted each other in a restrained manner. Their very natures seemed, from the beginning, disposed to take exception to each other. De Wardes was pliant, subtle, full of dissimulation; Raoul was calm, grave, and upright. “Decide between us -- between De Wardes and myself, Raoul.”
+
+“Upon what subject?”
+
+“Upon the subject of noble birth.”
+
+“Who can be better informed on that subject than a De Gramont?”
+
+“No compliments; it is your opinion I ask.”
+
+“At least, inform me of the subject under discussion.”
+
+“De Wardes asserts that the distribution of titles is abused; I, on the contrary, maintain that a title is useless to the man on whom it is bestowed.”
+
+“And you are correct,” said Bragelonne, quietly.
+
+“But, monsieur le vicomte,” interrupted De Wardes, with a kind of obstinacy, “I affirm that it is I who am correct.”
+
+“What was your opinion, monsieur?”
+
+“I was saying that everything is done in France at the present moment, to humiliate men of family.”
+
+“And by whom?”
+
+“By the king himself. He surrounds himself with people who cannot show four quarterings.”
+
+“Nonsense,” said De Guiche, “where could you possibly have seen that, De Wardes?”
+
+“One example will suffice,” he returned, directing his look fully upon Raoul.
+
+“State it then.”
+
+“Do you know who has just been nominated captain-general of the musketeers? -- an appointment more valuable than a peerage; for it gives precedence over all the marechals of France.”
+
+Raoul’s color mounted in his face; for he saw the object De Wardes had in view. “No; who has been appointed? In any case it must have been very recently, for the appointment was vacant eight days ago; a proof of which is, that the king refused Monsieur, who solicited the post for one of his proteges.”
+
+“Well, the king refused it to Monsieur’s protege, in order to bestow it upon the Chevalier d’Artagnan, a younger brother of some Gascon family, who has been trailing his sword in the ante-chambers during the last thirty years.”
+
+“Forgive me if I interrupt you,” said Raoul, darting a glance full of severity at De Wardes; “but you give me the impression of being unacquainted with the gentleman of whom you are speaking.”
+
+“I not acquainted with M. d’Artagnan? Can you tell me, monsieur, who does not know him?”
+
+“Those who do know him, monsieur,” replied Raoul, with still greater calmness and sternness of manner, “are in the habit of saying, that if he is not as good a gentleman as the king -- which is not his fault -- he is the equal of all the kings of the earth in courage and loyalty. Such is my opinion, monsieur; and I thank heaven I have known M. d’Artagnan from my birth.”
+
+De Wardes was about to reply, when De Guiche interrupted him.
+
+Chapter VII. The Portrait of Madame.
+
+The discussion was becoming full of bitterness. De Guiche perfectly understood the whole matter, for there was in Bragelonne’s face a look instinctively hostile, while in that of De Wardes there was something like a determination to offend. Without inquiring into the different feelings which actuated his two friends, De Guiche resolved to ward off the blow which he felt was on the point of being dealt by one of them, and perhaps by both. “Gentlemen,” he said, “we must take our leave of each other, I must pay a visit to Monsieur. You, De Wardes, will accompany me to the Louvre, and you, Raoul, will remain here master of the house; and as all that is done here is under your advice, you will bestow the last glance upon my preparations for departure.”
+
+Raoul, with the air of one who neither seeks nor fears a quarrel, bowed his head in token of assent, and seated himself upon a bench in the sun. “That is well,” said De Guiche, “remain where you are, Raoul, and tell them to show you the two horses I have just purchased; you will give me your opinion, for I only bought them on condition that you ratified the purchase. By the by, I have to beg your pardon for having omitted to inquire after the Comte de la Fere.” While pronouncing these latter words, he closely observed De Wardes, in order to perceive what effect the name of Raoul’s father would produce upon him. “I thank you,” answered the young man, “the count is very well.” A gleam of deep hatred passed into De Wardes’s eyes. De Guiche, who appeared not to notice the foreboding expression, went up to Raoul, and grasping him by the hand, said, -- “It is agreed, then, Bragelonne, is it not, that you will rejoin us in the courtyard of the Palais Royal?” He then signed to De Wardes to follow him, who had been engaged in balancing himself first on one foot, then on the other. “We are going,” said he, “come, M. Malicorne.” This name made Raoul start; for it seemed that he had already heard it pronounced before, but he could not remember on what occasion. While trying to recall it half-dreamily, yet half-irritated at his conversation with De Wardes, the three young men set out on their way towards the Palais Royal, where Monsieur was residing. Malicorne learned two things; the first, that the young men had something to say to each other; and the second, that he ought not to walk in the same line with them; and therefore he walked behind. “Are you mad?” said De Guiche to his companion, as soon as they had left the Hotel de Grammont; “you attack M. d’Artagnan, and that, too, before Raoul.”
+
+“Well,” said De Wardes, “what then?”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘what then?’”
+
+“Certainly, is there any prohibition against attacking M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“But you know very well that M. d’Artagnan was one of those celebrated and terrible four men who were called the musketeers.”
+
+“That they may be; but I do not perceive why, on that account, I should be forbidden to hate M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“What cause has he given you?”
+
+“Me! personally, none.”
+
+“Why hate him, therefore?”
+
+“Ask my dead father that question.”
+
+“Really, my dear De Wardes, you surprise me. M. d’Artagnan is not one to leave unsettled any enmity he may have to arrange, without completely clearing his account. Your father, I have heard, carried matters with a high hand. Moreover, there are no enmities so bitter that they cannot be washed away by blood, by a good sword-thrust loyally given.”
+
+“Listen to me, my dear De Guiche, this inveterate dislike existed between my father and M. d’Artagnan, and when I was quite a child, he acquainted me with the reason for it, and, as forming part of my inheritance, I regard it as a particular legacy bestowed upon me.”
+
+“And does this hatred concern M. d’Artagnan alone?”
+
+“As for that, M. d’Artagnan was so intimately associated with his three friends, that some portion of the full measure of my hatred falls to their lot, and that hatred is of such a nature, whenever the opportunity occurs, they shall have no occasion to complain of their allowance.”
+
+De Guiche had kept his eyes fixed on De Wardes, and shuddered at the bitter manner in which the young man smiled. Something like a presentiment flashed across his mind; he knew that the time had passed away for grands coups entre gentilshommes; but that the feeling of hatred treasured up in the mind, instead of being diffused abroad, was still hatred all the same; that a smile was sometimes as full of meaning as a threat; and, in a word, that to the fathers who had hated with their hearts and fought with their arms, would now succeed the sons, who would indeed hate with their hearts, but would no longer combat their enemies save by means of intrigue or treachery. As, therefore, it certainly was not Raoul whom he could suspect either of intrigue or treachery, it was on Raoul’s account that De Guiche trembled. However, while these gloomy forebodings cast a shade of anxiety over De Guiche’s countenance, De Wardes had resumed the entire mastery over himself.
+
+“At all events,” he observed, “I have no personal ill-will towards M. de Bragelonne; I do not know him even.”
+
+“In any case,” said De Guiche, with a certain amount of severity in his tone of voice, “do not forget one circumstance, that Raoul is my most intimate friend;” a remark at which De Wardes bowed.
+
+The conversation terminated there, although De Guiche tried his utmost to draw out his secret from him; but, doubtless, De Wardes had determined to say nothing further, and he remained impenetrable. De Guiche therefore promised himself a more satisfactory result with Raoul. In the meantime they had reached the Palais Royal, which was surrounded by a crowd of lookers-on. The household belonging to Monsieur awaited his command to mount their horses, in order to form part of the escort of the ambassadors, to whom had been intrusted the care of bringing the young princess to Paris. The brilliant display of horses, arms, and rich liveries, afforded some compensation in those times, thanks to the kindly feelings of the people, and to the traditions of deep devotion to their sovereigns, for the enormous expenses charged upon the taxes. Mazarin had said: “Let them sing, provided they pay;” while Louis XIV.’s remark was, “Let them look.” Sight had replaced the voice; the people could still look but they were no longer allowed to sing. De Guiche left De Wardes and Malicorne at the bottom of the grand staircase, while he himself, who shared the favor and good graces of Monsieur with the Chevalier de Lorraine, who always smiled at him most affectionately, though he could not endure him, went straight to the prince’s apartments, whom he found engaged in admiring himself in the glass, and rouging his face. In a corner of the cabinet, the Chevalier de Lorraine was extended full length upon some cushions, having just had his long hair curled, with which he was playing in the same manner a woman would have done. The prince turned round as the count entered, and perceiving who it was, said: “Ah! is that you, De Guiche; come here and tell me the truth.”
+
+“You know, my lord, it is one of my defects to speak the truth.”
+
+“You will hardly believe, De Guiche, how that wicked chevalier has annoyed me.”
+
+The chevalier shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Why, he pretends,” continued the prince, “that Mademoiselle Henrietta is better looking as a woman than I am as a man.”
+
+“Do not forget, my lord,” said De Guiche, frowning slightly, “you require me to speak the truth.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the prince, tremblingly.
+
+“Well, and I shall tell it you.”
+
+“Do not be in a hurry, Guiche,” exclaimed the prince, “you have plenty of time; look at me attentively, and try to recollect Madame. Besides, her portrait is here. Look at it.” And he held out to him a miniature of the finest possible execution. De Guiche took it, and looked at it for a long time attentively.
+
+“Upon my honor, my lord, this is indeed a most lovely face.”
+
+“But look at me, count, look at me,” said the prince, endeavoring to direct upon himself the attention of the count, who was completely absorbed in contemplation of the portrait.
+
+“It is wonderful,” murmured Guiche.
+
+“Really one would imagine you had never seen the young lady before.”
+
+“It is true, my lord, I have seen her but it was five years ago; there is a great difference between a child twelve years old, and a girl of seventeen.”
+
+“Well, what is your opinion?”
+
+“My opinion is that the portrait must be flattering, my lord.”
+
+“Of that,” said the prince triumphantly, “there can be no doubt; but let us suppose that it is not, what would your opinion be?”
+
+“My lord, that your highness is exceedingly happy to have so charming a bride.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing. The prince understood how severe towards himself this opinion of the Comte de Guiche was, and he looked somewhat displeased, saying, “My friends are not over indulgent.” De Guiche looked at the portrait again, and, after lengthened contemplation, returned it with apparent unwillingness, saying, “Most decidedly, my lord, I should rather prefer to look ten times at your highness, than to look at Madame once again.” It seemed as if the chevalier had detected some mystery in these words, which were incomprehensible to the prince, for he exclaimed: “Very well, get married yourself.” Monsieur continued painting himself, and when he had finished, looked at the portrait again once more, turned to admire himself in the glass, and smiled, and no doubt was satisfied with the comparison. “You are very kind to have come,” he said to Guiche, “I feared you would leave without bidding me adieu.”
+
+“Your highness knows me too well to believe me capable of so great a disrespect.”
+
+“Besides, I suppose you have something to ask from me before leaving Paris?”
+
+“Your highness has indeed guessed correctly, for I have a request to make.”
+
+“Very good, what is it?”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine immediately displayed the greatest attention, for he regarded every favor conferred upon another as a robbery committed against himself. And, as Guiche hesitated, the prince said: “If it be money, nothing could be more fortunate, for I am in funds; the superintendent of the finances has sent me 500,000 pistoles.”
+
+“I thank your highness; but is not an affair of money.”
+
+“What is it, then? Tell me.”
+
+“The appointment of a maid of honor.”
+
+“Oh! oh! Guiche, what a protector you have become of young ladies,” said the prince, “you never speak of any one else now.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine smiled, for he knew very well that nothing displeased the prince more than to show any interest in ladies. “My lord,” said the comte, “it is not I who am directly interested in the lady of whom I have just spoken; I am acting on behalf of one of my friends.”
+
+“Ah! that is different; what is the name of the young lady in whom your friend is so interested?”
+
+“Mlle. de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere; she is already maid of honor to the dowager princess.”
+
+“Why, she is lame,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, stretching himself on his cushions.
+
+“Lame,” repeated the prince, “and Madame to have her constantly before her eyes? Most certainly not; it may be dangerous for her when in an interesting condition.”
+
+The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing.
+
+“Chevalier,” said Guiche, “your conduct is ungenerous; while I am soliciting a favor, you do me all the mischief you can.”
+
+“Forgive me, comte,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, somewhat uneasy at the tone in which Guiche had made his remark, “but I had no intention of doing so, and I begin to believe that I have mistaken one young lady for another.”
+
+“There is no doubt of it, monsieur; and I do not hesitate to declare that such is the case.”
+
+“Do you attach much importance to it, Guiche?” inquired the prince.
+
+“I do, my lord.”
+
+“Well, you shall have it; but ask me for no more appointments, for there are none to give away.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the chevalier, “midday already, that is the hour fixed for the departure.”
+
+“You dismiss me, monsieur?” inquired Guiche.
+
+“Really, count, you treat me very ill to-day,” replied the chevalier.
+
+“For heaven’s sake, count, for heaven’s sake, chevalier,” said Monsieur, “do you not see how you are distressing me?”
+
+“Your highness’s signature?” said Guiche.
+
+“Take a blank appointment from that drawer, and give it to me.” Guiche handed the prince the document indicated, and at the same time presented him with a pen already dipped in ink; whereupon the prince signed. “Here,” he said, returning him the appointment, “but I give it on one condition.”
+
+“Name it.”
+
+“That you make friends with the chevalier.”
+
+“Willingly,” said Guiche. And he held out his hand to the chevalier with an indifference amounting to contempt.
+
+“Adieu, count,” said the chevalier, without seeming in any way to have noticed the count’s slight; “adieu, and bring us back a princess who will not talk with her own portrait too much.”
+
+“Yes, set off and lose no time. By the by, who will accompany you?”
+
+“Bragelonne and De Wardes.”
+
+“Both excellent and fearless companions.”
+
+“Too fearless,” said the chevalier; “endeavor to bring them both back, count.”
+
+“A bad heart, bad!” murmured De Guiche; “he scents mischief everywhere, and sooner than anything else.” And taking leave of the prince, he quitted the apartment. As soon as he reached the vestibule, he waved in the air the paper which the prince had signed. Malicorne hurried forward, and received it, trembling with delight. When, however, he held in his hand, Guiche observed that he still awaited something further.
+
+“Patience, monsieur,” he said; “the Chevalier de Lorraine was there, and I feared an utter failure if I asked too much at once. Wait until I return. Adieu.”
+
+“Adieu, monsieur le comte; a thousand thanks,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Send Manicamp to me. By the way, monsieur, is it true that Mlle. de la Valliere is lame?” As he said this, he noticed that Bragelonne, who had just at that moment entered the courtyard, turned suddenly pale. The poor lover had heard the remark, which, however, was not the case with Malicorne, for he was already beyond the reach of the count’s voice.
+
+“Why is Louise’s name spoken of here,” said Raoul to himself; “oh! let not De Wardes, who stands smiling yonder, even say a word about her in my presence.”
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” exclaimed the Comte de Guiche, “prepare to start.”
+
+At this moment the prince, who had complete his toilette, appeared at the window, and was immediately saluted by the acclamations of all who composed the escort, and ten minutes afterwards, banners, scarfs, and feathers were fluttering and waving in the air, as the cavalcade galloped away.
+
+Chapter VIII. Le Havre.
+
+This brilliant and animated company, the members of which were inspired by various feelings, arrived at Le Havre four days after their departure from Paris. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and no intelligence had yet been received of Madame. They were soon engaged in quest of apartments; but the greatest confusion immediately ensued among the masters, and violent quarrels among their attendants. In the midst of this disorder, the Comte de Guiche fancied he recognized Manicamp. It was, indeed, Manicamp himself; but as Malicorne had taken possession of his very best costume, he had not been able to get any other than a suit of violet velvet, trimmed with silver. Guiche recognized him as much by his dress as by his features, for he had very frequently seen Manicamp in his violet suit, which was his last resource. Manicamp presented himself to the count under an arch of torches, which set in a blaze, rather than illuminated, the gate by which Le Havre is entered, and which is situated close to the tower of Francis I. The count, remarking the woe-begone expression of Manicamp’s face, could not resist laughing. “Well, my poor Manicamp,” he exclaimed, “how violet you look; are you in mourning?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Manicamp; “I am in mourning.”
+
+“For whom, or for what?”
+
+“For my blue-and-gold suit, which has disappeared, and in the place of which I could find nothing but this; and I was even obliged to economize from compulsion, in order to get possession of it.”
+
+“Indeed?”
+
+“It is singular you should be astonished at that, since you leave me without any money.”
+
+“At all events, here you are, and that is the principal thing.”
+
+“By the most horrible roads.”
+
+“Where are you lodging?”
+
+“Lodging?”
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“I am not lodging anywhere.”
+
+De Guiche began to laugh. “Well,” said he, “where do you intend to lodge?”
+
+“In the same place you do.”
+
+“But I don’t know, myself.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying you don’t know?”
+
+“Certainly, how is it likely I should know where I should stay?”
+
+“Have you not retained an hotel?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you or the prince.”
+
+“Neither of us has thought of it. Le Havre is of considerable size, I suppose; and provided I can get a stable for a dozen horses, and a suitable house in a good quarter -- ”
+
+“Certainly, there are some very excellent houses.”
+
+“Well then -- ”
+
+“But not for us.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying not for us? -- for whom, then?”
+
+“For the English, of course.”
+
+“For the English?”
+
+“Yes; the houses are all taken.”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“I beg your pardon?” said Guiche, whose attention this name had awakened.
+
+“Yes, by the Duke of Buckingham. His Grace was preceded by a courier, who arrived here three days ago, and immediately retained all the houses fit for habitation the town possesses.”
+
+“Come, come, Manicamp, let us understand each other.”
+
+“Well, what I have told you is clear enough, it seems to me.”
+
+“But surely Buckingham does not occupy the whole of Le Havre?”
+
+“He certainly does not occupy it, since he has not yet arrived; but, once disembarked, he will occupy it.”
+
+“Oh! oh!”
+
+“It is quite clear you are not acquainted with the English; they have a perfect rage for monopolizing everything.”
+
+“That may be; but a man who has the whole of one house, is satisfied with it, and does not require two.”
+
+“Yes, but two men?”
+
+“Be it so; for two men, two houses, or four or six, or ten, if you like; but there are a hundred houses at Le Havre.”
+
+“Yes, and all the hundred are let.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“What an obstinate fellow you are. I tell you Buckingham has hired all the houses surrounding the one which the queen dowager of England and the princess her daughter will inhabit.”
+
+“He is singular enough, indeed,” said De Wardes, caressing his horse’s neck.
+
+“Such is the case, however, monsieur.”
+
+“You are quite sure of it, Monsieur de Manicamp?” and as he put this question, he looked slyly at De Guiche, as though to interrogate him upon the degree of confidence to be placed in his friend’s state of mind. During this discussion the night had closed in, and the torches, pages, attendants, squires, horses, and carriages, blocked up the gate and the open place; the torches were reflected in the channel, which the rising tide was gradually filling, while on the other side of the jetty might be noticed groups of curious lookers-on, consisting of sailors and townspeople, who seemed anxious to miss nothing of the spectacle. Amidst all this hesitation of purpose, Bragelonne, as though a perfect stranger to the scene, remained on his horse somewhat in the rear of Guiche, and watched the rays of light reflected on the water, inhaling with rapture the sea breezes, and listening to the waves which noisily broke upon the shore and on the beach, tossing the spray into the air with a noise that echoed in the distance. “But,” exclaimed De Guiche, “what is Buckingham’s motive for providing such a supply of lodgings?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said De Wardes; “what reason has he?”
+
+“A very excellent one,” replied Manicamp.
+
+“You know what it is, then?”
+
+“I fancy I do.”
+
+“Tell us, then.”
+
+“Bend your head down towards me.”
+
+“What! may it not be spoken except in private?”
+
+“You shall judge of that yourself.”
+
+“Very well.” De Guiche bent down.
+
+“Love,” said Manicamp.
+
+“I do not understand you at all.”
+
+“Say rather, you cannot understand me yet.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Very well; it is quite certain, count, that his royal highness will be the most unfortunate of husbands.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham -- ”
+
+“It is a name of ill omen to the princes of the house of France.”
+
+“And so the duke is madly in love with Madame, so the rumor runs, and will have no one approach her but himself.”
+
+De Guiche colored. “Thank you, thank you,” said he to Manicamp, grasping his hand. Then, recovering himself, added, “Whatever you do, Manicamp, be careful that this project of Buckingham’s is not made known to any Frenchman here; for, if so, many a sword would be unsheathed in this country that does not fear English steel.”
+
+“But after all,” said Manicamp, “I have had no satisfactory proof given me of the love in question, and it may be no more than an idle tale.”
+
+“No, no,” said De Guiche, “it must be the truth;” and despite his command over himself, he clenched his teeth.
+
+“Well,” said Manicamp, “after all, what does it matter to you? What does it matter to me whether the prince is to be what the late king was? Buckingham the father for the queen, Buckingham the son for the princess.”
+
+“Manicamp! Manicamp!”
+
+“It is a fact, or at least, everybody says so.”
+
+“Silence!” cried the count.
+
+“But why, silence?” said De Wardes; “it is a highly creditable circumstance for the French nation. Are not you of my opinion, Monsieur de Bragelonne?”
+
+“To what circumstance do you allude?” inquired De Bragelonne with an abstracted air.
+
+“That the English should render homage to the beauty of our queens and our princesses.”
+
+“Forgive me, but I have not been paying attention to what has passed; will you oblige me by explaining.”
+
+“There is no doubt it was necessary that Buckingham the father should come to Paris in order that his majesty, King Louis XIII., should perceive that his wife was one of the most beautiful women of the French court; and it seems necessary, at the present time, that Buckingham the son should consecrate, by the devotion of his worship, the beauty of a princess who has French blood in her veins. The fact of having inspired a passion on the other side of the Channel will henceforth confer a title to beauty on this.”
+
+“Sir,” replied De Bragelonne, “I do not like to hear such matters treated so lightly. Gentlemen like ourselves should be careful guardians of the honor of our queens and our princesses. If we jest at them, what will our servants do?”
+
+“How am I to understand that?” said De Wardes, whose ears tingled at the remark.
+
+“In any way you chose, monsieur,” replied De Bragelonne, coldly.
+
+“Bragelonne, Bragelonne,” murmured De Guiche.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” exclaimed Manicamp, noticing that the young man had spurred his horse close to the side of Raoul.
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said De Guiche, “do not set such an example in public, in the street too. De Wardes, you are wrong.”
+
+“Wrong; in what way, may I ask you?”
+
+“You are wrong, monsieur, because you are always speaking ill of someone or something,” replied Raoul, with undisturbed composure.
+
+“Be indulgent, Raoul,” said De Guiche, in an undertone.
+
+“Pray do not think of fighting, gentlemen!” said Manicamp, “before you have rested yourselves; for in that case you will not be able to do much.”
+
+“Come,” said De Guiche, “forward, gentlemen!” and breaking through the horses and attendants, he cleared the way for himself towards the center of the square, through the crowd, followed by the whole cavalcade. A large gateway looking out upon a courtyard was open; Guiche entered the courtyard, and Bragelonne, De Wardes, Manicamp, and three or four other gentlemen, followed him. A sort of council of war was held, and the means to be employed for saving the dignity of the embassy were deliberated upon. Bragelonne was of the opinion that the right of priority should be respected, while De Wardes suggested that the town should be sacked. This latter proposition appearing to Manicamp rather premature, he proposed instead that they should first rest themselves. This was the wisest thing to do, but, unhappily, to follow his advice, two things were wanting; namely, a house and beds. De Guiche reflected for awhile, and then said aloud, “Let him who loves me, follow me!”
+
+“The attendants also?” inquired a page who had approached the group.
+
+“Every one,” exclaimed the impetuous young man. “Manicamp, show us the way to the house destined for her royal highness’s residence.”
+
+Without in any way divining the count’s project, his friends followed him, accompanied by a crowd of people, whose acclamations and delight seemed a happy omen for the success of that project with which they were yet unacquainted. The wind was blowing strongly from the harbor, and moaning in fitful gusts.
+
+Chapter IX. At Sea.
+
+The following day was somewhat calmer, although the gale still continued. The sun had, however, risen through a bank of orange clouds, tingeing with its cheerful rays the crests of the black waves. Watch was impatiently kept from the different look-outs. Towards eleven o’clock in the morning a ship, with sails full set, was signalled as in view; two others followed at the distance of about half a knot. They approached like arrows shot from the bow of a skillful archer; and yet the sea ran so high that their speed was as nothing compared to the rolling of the billows in which the vessels were plunging first in one direction and then in another. The English fleet was soon recognized by the line of the ships, and by the color of their pennants; the one which had the princess on board and carried the admiral’s flag preceded the others.
+
+The rumor now spread that the princess was arriving. The whole French court ran to the harbor, while the quays and jetties were soon covered by crowds of people. Two hours afterwards, the other vessels had overtaken the flagship, and the three, not venturing perhaps to enter the narrow entrance of the harbor, cast anchor between Le Havre and La Heve. When the maneuver had been completed, the vessel which bore the admiral saluted France by twelve discharges of cannon, which were returned, discharge for discharge, from Fort Francis I. Immediately afterwards a hundred boats were launched; they were covered with the richest stuffs, and destined for the conveyance of the different members of the French nobility towards the vessels at anchor. But when it was observed that even inside the harbor the boats were tossed to and fro, and that beyond the jetty the waves rose mountains high, dashing upon the shore with a terrible uproar, it was readily believed that not one of those frail boats would be able with safety to reach a fourth part of the distance between the shore and the vessels at anchor. A pilot-boat, however, notwithstanding the wind and the sea, was getting ready to leave the harbor, for the purpose of placing itself at the admiral’s disposal.
+
+De Guiche, who had been looking among the different boats for one stronger than the others, which might offer a chance of reaching the English vessels, perceiving the pilot-boat getting ready to start, said to Raoul: “Do you not think, Raoul, that intelligent and vigorous men, as we are, ought to be ashamed to retreat before the brute strength of wind and waves?”
+
+“That is precisely the very reflection I was silently making to myself,” replied Bragelonne.
+
+“Shall we get into that boat, then, and push off? Will you come, De Wardes?”
+
+“Take care, or you will get drowned,” said Manicamp.
+
+“And for no purpose,” said De Wardes, “for with the wind in your teeth, as it will be, you will never reach the vessels.”
+
+“You refuse, then?”
+
+“Assuredly I do; I would willingly risk and lose my life in an encounter against men,” he said, glancing at Bragelonne, “but as to fighting with oars against waves, I have no taste for that.”
+
+“And for myself,” said Manicamp, “even were I to succeed in reaching the ships, I should not be indifferent to the loss of the only good dress which I have left, -- salt water would spoil it.”
+
+“You, then, refuse also?” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Decidedly I do; I beg you to understand that most distinctly.”
+
+“But,” exclaimed De Guiche, “look, De Wardes -- look, Manicamp -- look yonder, the princesses are looking at us from the poop of the admiral’s vessel.”
+
+“An additional reason, my dear fellow, why we should not make ourselves ridiculous by being drowned while they are looking on.”
+
+“Is that your last word, Manicamp?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And then yours, De Wardes?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then I go alone.”
+
+“Not so,” said Raoul, “for I shall accompany you; I thought it was understood I should do so.”
+
+The fact is, that Raoul, uninfluenced by devotion, measuring the risk they run, saw how imminent the danger was, but he willingly allowed himself to accept a peril which De Wardes had declined.
+
+The boat was about to set off when De Guiche called to the pilot. “Stay,” said he: “we want two places in your boat;” and wrapping five or six pistoles in paper, he threw them from the quay into the boat.
+
+“It seems you are not afraid of salt water, young gentlemen.”
+
+“We are afraid of nothing,” replied De Guiche.
+
+“Come along, then.”
+
+The pilot approached the side of the boat, and the two young men, one after the other, with equal vivacity, jumped into the boat. “Courage, my men,” said De Guiche; “I have twenty pistoles left in this purse, and as soon as we reach the admiral’s vessel they shall be yours.” The sailors bent themselves to their oars, and the boat bounded over the crest of the waves. The interest taken in this hazardous expedition was universal; the whole population of Le Havre hurried towards the jetties and every look was directed towards the little bark; at one moment it flew suspended on the crest of the foaming waves, then suddenly glided downwards towards the bottom of a raging abyss, where it seemed utterly lost. At the expiration of an hour’s struggling with the waves, it reached the spot where the admiral’s vessel was anchored, and from the side of which two boats had already been dispatched towards their aid. Upon the quarter-deck of the flagship, sheltered by a canopy of velvet and ermine, which was suspended by stout supports, Henriette, the queen dowager, and the young princess -- with the admiral, the Duke of Norfolk, standing beside them -- watched with alarm this slender bark, at one moment tossed to the heavens, and the next buried beneath the waves, and against whose dark sail the noble figures of the two French gentlemen stood forth in relief like two luminous apparitions. The crew, leaning against the bulwarks and clinging to the shrouds, cheered the courage of the two daring young men, the skill of the pilot, and the strength of the sailors. They were received at the side of the vessel by a shout of triumph. The Duke of Norfolk, a handsome young man, from twenty-six to twenty-eight years of age, advanced to meet them. De Guiche and Bragelonne lightly mounted the ladder on the starboard side, and, conducted by the Duke of Norfolk, who resumed his place near them, they approached to offer their homage to the princess. Respect, and yet more, a certain apprehension, for which he could not account, had hitherto restrained the Comte de Guiche from looking at Madame attentively, who, however, had observed him immediately, and had asked her mother, “Is not that Monsieur in the boat yonder?” Madame Henriette, who knew Monsieur better than her daughter did, smiled at the mistake her vanity had led her into, and had answered, “No; it is only M. de Guiche, his favorite.” The princess, at this reply, was constrained to check an instinctive tenderness of feeling which the courage displayed by the count had awakened. At the very moment the princess had put this question to her mother, De Guiche had, at last, summoned courage to raise his eyes towards her and could compare the original with the portrait he had so lately seen. No sooner had he remarked her pale face, her eyes so full of animation, her beautiful nut-brown hair, her expressive lips, and her every gesture, which, while betokening royal descent, seemed to thank and to encourage him at one and the same time, than he was, for a moment, so overcome, that, had it not been for Raoul, on whose arm he leant, he would have fallen. His friend’s amazed look, and the encouraging gesture of the queen, restored Guiche to his self-possession. In a few words he explained his mission, explained in what way he had become envoy of his royal highness; and saluted, according to their rank and the reception they gave him, the admiral and several of the English noblemen who were grouped around the princess.
+
+Raoul was then presented, and was most graciously received; the share that the Comte de la Fere had had in the restoration of Charles II. was known to all; and, more than that, it was the comte who had been charged with the negotiation of the marriage, by means of which the granddaughter of Henry IV. was now returning to France. Raoul spoke English perfectly, and constituted himself his friend’s interpreter with the young English noblemen, who were indifferently acquainted with the French language. At this moment, a young man came forward, of extremely handsome features, and whose dress and arms were remarkable for their extravagance of material. He approached the princesses, who were engaged in conversation with the Duke of Norfolk, and, in a voice which ill concealed his impatience, said, “It is now time to disembark, your royal highness.” The younger of the princesses rose from her seat at this remark, and was about to take the hand which the young nobleman extended to her, with an eagerness which arose from a variety of motives, when the admiral intervened between them, observing: “A moment, if you please, my lord; it is not possible for ladies to disembark just now, the sea is too rough; it is probable the wind may abate before sunset, and the landing will not be effected, therefore, until this evening.”
+
+“Allow me to observe, my lord,” said Buckingham, with an irritation of manner which he did not seek to disguise, “you detain these ladies, and you have no right to do so. One of them, unhappily, now belongs to France, and you perceive that France claims them by the voice of her ambassadors;” and at the same moment he indicated Raoul and Guiche, whom he saluted.
+
+“I cannot suppose that these gentlemen intend to expose the lives of their royal highnesses,” replied the admiral.
+
+“These gentlemen,” retorted Buckingham, “arrived here safely, notwithstanding the wind; allow me to believe that the danger will not be greater for their royal highnesses when the wind will be in their favor.”
+
+“These envoys have shown how great their courage is,” said the admiral. “You may have observed that there was a great number of persons on shore who did not venture to accompany them. Moreover, the desire which they had to show their respect with the least possible delay to Madame and her illustrious mother, induced them to brave the sea, which is very tempestuous to-day, even for sailors. These gentlemen, however, whom I recommend as an example for my officers to follow, can hardly be so for these ladies.”
+
+Madame glanced at the Comte de Guiche, and perceived that his face was burning with confusion. This look had escaped Buckingham, who had eyes for nothing but Norfolk, of whom he was evidently very jealous; he seemed anxious to remove the princesses from the deck of a vessel where the admiral reigned supreme. “In that case,” returned Buckingham, “I appeal to Madame herself.”
+
+“And I, my lord,” retorted the admiral, “I appeal to my own conscience, and to my own sense of responsibility. I have undertaken to convey Madame safe and sound to France, and I shall keep my promise.”
+
+“But, sir -- ” continued Buckingham.
+
+“My lord, permit me to remind you that I command here.”
+
+“Are you aware what you are saying, my lord?” replied Buckingham, haughtily.
+
+“Perfectly so; I therefore repeat it: I alone command here, all yield obedience to me; the sea and the winds, the ships and men too.” This remark was made in a dignified and authoritative manner. Raoul observed its effect upon Buckingham, who trembled with anger from head to foot, and leaned against one of the poles of the tent to prevent himself falling; his eyes became suffused with blood, and the hand which he did not need for his support wandered towards the hilt of his sword.
+
+“My lord,” said the queen, “permit me to observe that I agree in every particular with the Duke of Norfolk; if the heavens, instead of being clouded as they are at the present moment, were perfectly serene and propitious, we can still afford to bestow a few hours upon the officer who has conducted us so successfully, and with such extreme attention, to the French coast, where he is to take leave of us.”
+
+Buckingham, instead of replying, seemed to seek counsel from the expression of Madame’s face. She, however, half-concealed beneath the thick curtains of the velvet and gold which sheltered her, had not listened to the discussion, having been occupied in watching the Comte de Guiche, who was conversing with Raoul. This was a fresh misfortune for Buckingham, who fancied he perceived in Madame Henrietta’s look a deeper feeling than that of curiosity. He withdrew, almost tottering in his gait, and nearly stumbled against the mainmast of the ship.
+
+“The duke has not acquired a steady footing yet,” said the queen-mother, in French, “and that may possibly be his reason for wishing to find himself on firm land again.”
+
+The young man overheard this remark, turned suddenly pale, and, letting his hands fall in great discouragement by his side, drew aside, mingling in one sigh his old affection and his new hatreds. The admiral, however, without taking any further notice of the duke’s ill-humor, led the princesses into the quarter-deck cabin, where dinner had been served with a magnificence worthy in every respect of his guests. The admiral seated himself at the right hand of the princess, and placed the Comte de Guiche on her left. This was the place Buckingham usually occupied; and when he entered the cabin, how profound was his unhappiness to see himself banished by etiquette from the presence of his sovereign, to a position inferior to that which, by rank, he was entitled to. De Guiche, on the other hand, paler still perhaps from happiness, than his rival was from anger, seated himself tremblingly next to the princess, whose silken robe, as it lightly touched him, caused a tremor of mingled regret and happiness to pass through his whole frame. The repast finished, Buckingham darted forward to hand Madame Henrietta from the table; but this time it was De Guiche’s turn to give the duke a lesson. “Have the goodness, my lord, from this moment,” said he, “not to interpose between her royal highness and myself. From this moment, indeed, her royal highness belongs to France, and when she deigns to honor me by touching my hand it is the hand of Monsieur, the brother of the king of France, she touches.”
+
+And saying this, he presented his hand to Madame Henrietta with such marked deference, and at the same time with a nobleness of mien so intrepid, that a murmur of admiration rose from the English, whilst a groan of despair escaped from Buckingham’s lips. Raoul, who loved, comprehended it all. He fixed upon his friend one of those profound looks which a bosom friend or mother can alone extend, either as protector or guardian, over the one who is about to stray from the right path. Towards two o’clock in the afternoon the sun shone forth anew, the wind subsided, the sea became smooth as a crystal mirror, and the fog, which had shrouded the coast, disappeared like a veil withdrawn before it. The smiling hills of France appeared in full view, with their numerous white houses rendered more conspicuous by the bright green of the trees or the clear blue sky.
+
+Chapter X. The Tents.
+
+The admiral, as we have seen, was determined to pay no further attention to Buckingham’s threatening glances and fits of passion. In fact, from the moment they quitted England, he had gradually accustomed himself to his behavior. De Guiche had not yet in any way remarked the animosity which appeared to influence that young nobleman against him, but he felt, instinctively, that there could be no sympathy between himself and the favorite of Charles II. The queen-mother, with greater experience and calmer judgment, perceived the exact position of affairs, and, as she discerned its danger, was prepared to meet it, whenever the proper moment should arrive. Quiet had been everywhere restored, except in Buckingham’s heart; he, in his impatience, addressed himself to the princess, in a low tone of voice: “For Heaven’s sake, madame, I implore you to hasten your disembarkation. Do you not perceive how that insolent Duke of Norfolk is killing me with his attentions and devotions to you?”
+
+Henrietta heard this remark; she smiled, and without turning her head towards him, but giving only to the tone of her voice that inflection of gentle reproach, and languid impertinence, which women and princesses so well know how to assume, she murmured, “I have already hinted, my lord, that you must have taken leave of your senses.”
+
+Not a single detail escaped Raoul’s attention; he heard both Buckingham’s entreaty and the princess’s reply; he remarked Buckingham retire, heard his deep sigh, and saw him pass a hand over his face. He understood everything, and trembled as he reflected on the position of affairs, and the state of the minds of those about him. At last the admiral, with studied delay, gave the last orders for the departure of the boats. Buckingham heard the directions given with such an exhibition of delight that a stranger would really imagine the young man’s reason was affected. As the Duke of Norfolk gave his commands, a large boat or barge, decked with flags, and capable of holding about twenty rowers and fifteen passengers, was slowly lowered from the side of the admiral’s vessel. The barge was carpeted with velvet and decorated with coverings embroidered with the arms of England, and with garlands of flowers; for, at that time, ornamentation was by no means forgotten in these political pageants. No sooner was this really royal boat afloat, and the rowers with oars uplifted, awaiting, like soldiers presenting arms, the embarkation of the princess, than Buckingham ran forward to the ladder in order to take his place. His progress was, however, arrested by the queen. “My lord,” she said, “it is hardly becoming that you should allow my daughter and myself to land without having previously ascertained that our apartments are properly prepared. I beg your lordship to be good enough to precede us ashore, and to give directions that everything be in proper order on our arrival.”
+
+This was a fresh disappointment for the duke, and, still more so, since it was so unexpected. He hesitated, colored violently, but could not reply. He had thought he might be able to keep near Madame during the passage to the shore, and, by this means, to enjoy to the very last moment the brief period fortune still reserved for him. The order, however, was explicit; and the admiral, who heard it given, immediately called out, “Launch the ship’s gig.” His directions were executed with that celerity which distinguishes every maneuver on board a man-of-war.
+
+Buckingham, in utter hopelessness, cast a look of despair at the princess, of supplication towards the queen, and directed a glance full of anger towards the admiral. The princess pretended not to notice him, while the queen turned aside her head, and the admiral laughed outright, at the sound of which Buckingham seemed ready to spring upon him. The queen-mother rose, and with a tone of authority said, “Pray set off, sir.”
+
+The young duke hesitated, looked around him, and with a last effort, half-choked by contending emotions, said, “And you, gentlemen, M. de Guiche and M. de Bragelonne, do not you accompany me?”
+
+De Guiche bowed and said, “Both M. de Bragelonne and myself await her majesty’s orders; whatever the commands she imposes on us, we shall obey them.” Saying this, he looked towards the princess, who cast down her eyes.
+
+“Your grace will remember,” said the queen, “that M. de Guiche is here to represent Monsieur; it is he who will do the honors of France, as you have done those of England; his presence cannot be dispensed with; besides, we owe him this slight favor for the courage he displayed in venturing to seek us in such a terrible stress of weather.”
+
+Buckingham opened his lips, as if he were about to speak, but, whether thoughts or expressions failed him, not a syllable escaped them, and turning away, as though out of his mind, he leapt from the vessel into the boat. The sailors were just in time to catch hold of him to steady themselves; for his weight and the rebound had almost upset the boat.
+
+“His grace cannot be in his senses,” said the admiral aloud to Raoul.
+
+“I am uneasy on the Duke’s account,” replied Bragelonne.
+
+While the boat was advancing towards the shore, the duke kept his eyes immovably fixed on the admiral’s ship, like a miser torn away from his coffers, or a mother separated from her child, about to be lead away to death. No one, however, acknowledged his signals, his frowns, or his pitiful gestures. In very anguish of mind, he sank down in the boat, burying his hands in his hair, whilst the boat, impelled by the exertions of the merry sailors, flew over the waves. On his arrival he was in such a state of apathy, that, had he not been received at the harbor by the messenger whom he had directed to precede him, he would hardly have had strength to ask his way. Having once, however, reached the house which had been set apart for him, he shut himself up, like Achilles in his tent. The barge bearing the princess quitted the admiral’s vessel at the very moment Buckingham landed. It was followed by another boat filled with officers, courtiers, and zealous friends. Great numbers of the inhabitants of Le Havre, having embarked in fishing-cobles and boats of every description, set off to meet the royal barge. The cannon from the forts fired salutes, which were returned by the flagship and the two other vessels, and the flashes from the open mouths of the cannon floated in white fumes over the waves, and disappeared in the clear blue sky.
+
+The princess landed at the decorated quay. Bands of gay music greeted her arrival, and accompanied her every step she took. During the time she was passing through the center of town, and treading beneath her delicate feet the richest carpets and the gayest flowers, which had been strewn upon the ground, De Guiche and Raoul, escaping from their English friends, hurried through the town and hastened rapidly towards the place intended for the residence of Madame.
+
+“Let us hurry forward,” said Raoul to De Guiche, “for if I read Buckingham’s character aright, he will create some disturbance, when he learns the result of our deliberations of yesterday.”
+
+“Never fear,” said De Guiche, “De Wardes is there, who is determination itself, while Manicamp is the very personification of the artless gentleness.”
+
+De Guiche was not, however, the less diligent on that account, and five minutes afterwards they were within sight of the Hotel de Ville. The first thing which struck them was the number of people assembled in the square. “Excellent,” said De Guiche; “our apartments, I see, are prepared.”
+
+In fact, in front of the Hotel de Ville, upon the wide open space before it, eight tents had been raised, surmounted by the flags of France and England united. The hotel was surrounded by tents, as by a girdle of variegated colors; ten pages and a dozen mounted troopers, for an escort, mounted guard before the tents. It had a singularly curious effect, almost fairy-like in its appearance. These tents had been constructed during the night-time. Fitted up, within and without, with the richest materials that De Guiche had been able to procure in Le Havre, they completely encircled the Hotel de Ville. The only passage which led to the steps of the hotel, and which was not inclosed by the silken barricade, was guarded by two tents, resembling two pavilions, the doorways of both of which opened towards the entrance. These two tents were destined for De Guiche and Raoul; in whose absence they were intended to be occupied, that of De Guiche by De Wardes, and that of Raoul by Manicamp. Surrounding these two tents, and the six others, a hundred officers, gentlemen, and pages, dazzling in their display of silk and gold, thronged like bees buzzing about a hive. Every one of them, their swords by their sides, was ready to obey the slightest sign either of De Guiche or Bragelonne, the leaders of the embassy.
+
+At the very moment the two young men appeared at the end of one of the streets leading to the square, they perceived, crossing the square at full gallop, a young man on horseback, whose costume was of surprising richness. He pushed hastily thorough the crowd of curious lookers-on, and, at the sight of these unexpected erections, uttered a cry of anger and dismay. It was Buckingham, who had awakened from his stupor, in order to adorn himself with a costume perfectly dazzling from its beauty, and to await the arrival of the princess and the queen-mother at the Hotel de Ville. At the entrance to the tents, the soldiers barred his passage, and his further progress was arrested. Buckingham, hopelessly infuriated, raised his whip; but his arm was seized by a couple of officers. Of the two guardians of the tent, only one was there. De Wardes was in the interior of the Hotel de Ville, engaging in attending to the execution of some orders by De Guiche. At the noise made by Buckingham, Manicamp, who was indolently reclining upon the cushions at the doorway of one of the tents, rose with his usual indifference, and, perceiving that the disturbance continued, made his appearance from underneath the curtains. “What is the matter?” he said, in a gentle tone of voice, “and who is making this disturbance?”
+
+It so happened, that, at the moment he began to speak, silence had just been restored, and, although his voice was very soft and gentle in its touch, every one heard his question. Buckingham turned round, and looked at the tall thin figure, and the listless expression of countenance of his questioner. Probably the personal appearance of Manicamp, who was dressed very plainly, did not inspire him with much respect, for he replied disdainfully, “Who may you be, monsieur?”
+
+Manicamp, leaning on the arm of a gigantic trooper, as firm as the pillar of a cathedral, replied in his usual tranquil tone of voice, -- “And you, monsieur?”
+
+“I, monsieur, am the Duke of Buckingham; I have hired all the houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, where I have business to transact; and as these houses are let, they belong to me, and, as I hired them in order to preserve the right of free access to the Hotel de Ville, you are not justified in preventing me passing to it.”
+
+“But who prevents you passing, monsieur?” inquired Manicamp.
+
+“Your sentinels.”
+
+“Because you wish to pass on horseback, and orders have been given to let only persons on foot pass.”
+
+“No one has any right to give orders here, except myself,” said Buckingham.
+
+“On what grounds?” inquired Manicamp, with his soft tone. “Will you do me the favor to explain this enigma to me?”
+
+“Because, as I have already told you, I have hired all the houses looking on the square.”
+
+“We are very well aware of that, since nothing but the square itself has been left for us.”
+
+“You are mistaken, monsieur; the square belongs to me, as well as the houses in it.”
+
+“Forgive me, monsieur, but you are mistaken there. In our country, we say, the highway belongs to the king, therefore this square is his majesty’s; and, consequently, as we are the king’s ambassadors, the square belongs to us.”
+
+“I have already asked you who you are, monsieur,” exclaimed Buckingham, exasperated at the coolness of his interlocutor.
+
+“My name is Manicamp,” replied the young man, in a voice whose tones were as harmonious and sweet as the notes of an Aeolian harp.
+
+Buckingham shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and said, “When I hired these houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, the square was unoccupied; these barracks obstruct my sight; I hereby order them to be removed.”
+
+A hoarse and angry murmur ran through the crowd of listeners at these words. De Guiche arrived at this moment; he pushed through the crowd which separated him from Buckingham, and, followed by Raoul, arrived on the scene of action from one side, just as De Wardes came up from the other. “Pardon me, my lord; but if you have any complaint to make, have the goodness to address it to me, inasmuch as it was I who supplied the plans for the construction of these tents.”
+
+“Moreover, I would beg you to observe, monsieur, that the term ‘barrack’ is a highly objectionable one!” added Manicamp, graciously.
+
+“You were saying, monsieur -- ” continued De Guiche.
+
+“I was saying, monsieur le comte,” resumed Buckingham, in a tone of anger more marked than ever, although in some measure moderated by the presence of an equal, “I was saying that it is impossible these tents can remain where they are.”
+
+“Impossible!” exclaimed De Guiche, “and why?”
+
+“Because I object to them.”
+
+A movement of impatience escaped De Guiche, but a warning glance from Raoul restrained him.
+
+“You should the less object to them, monsieur, on account of the abuse of priority you have permitted yourself to exercise.”
+
+“Abuse!”
+
+“Most assuredly. You commission a messenger, who hires in your name the whole of the town of Le Havre, without considering the members of the French court, who would be sure to arrive here to meet Madame. Your Grace will admit that this is hardly friendly conduct in the representative of a friendly nation.”
+
+“The right of possession belongs to him who is first on the ground.”
+
+“Not in France, monsieur.”
+
+“Why not in France?”
+
+“Because France is a country where politeness is observed.”
+
+“Which means?” exclaimed Buckingham, in so violent a manner that those who were present drew back, expecting an immediate collision.
+
+“Which means, monsieur,” replied De Guiche, now rather pale, “that I caused these tents to be raised as habitations for myself and my friends, as a shelter for the ambassadors of France, as the only place of refuge which your exactions have left us in the town; and that I and those who are with me, shall remain in them, at least, until an authority more powerful, and more supreme, than your own shall dismiss me from them.”
+
+“In other words, until we are ejected, as the lawyers say,” observed Manicamp, blandly.
+
+“I know an authority, monsieur, which I trust is such as you will respect,” said Buckingham, placing his hand on his sword.
+
+At this moment, and as the goddess of Discord, inflaming all minds, was about to direct their swords against each other, Raoul gently placed his hand on Buckingham’s shoulder. “One word, my lord,” he said.
+
+“My right, my right, first of all,” exclaimed the fiery young man.
+
+“It is precisely upon that point I wish to have the honor of addressing a word to you.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur, but let your remarks be brief.”
+
+“One question is all I ask; you can hardly expect me to be briefer.”
+
+“Speak, monsieur, I am listening.”
+
+“Are you, or is the Duke of Orleans, going to marry the granddaughter of Henry IV.?”
+
+“What do you mean?” exclaimed Buckingham, retreating a few steps, bewildered.
+
+“Have the goodness to answer me,” persisted Raoul tranquilly.
+
+“Do you mean to ridicule me, monsieur?” inquired Buckingham.
+
+“Your question is a sufficient answer for me. You admit, then, that it is not you who are going to marry the princess?”
+
+“You know it perfectly well, monsieur, I should imagine.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, but your conduct has been such as to leave it not altogether certain.”
+
+“Proceed, monsieur, what do you mean to convey?”
+
+Raoul approached the duke. “Are you aware, my lord,” he said, lowering his voice, “that your extravagances very much resemble the excesses of jealousy? These jealous fits, with respect to any woman, are not becoming in one who is neither her lover nor her husband; and I am sure you will admit that my remark applies with still greater force, when the lady in question is a princess of the blood royal!”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed Buckingham, “do you mean to insult Madame Henrietta?”
+
+“Be careful, my lord,” replied Bragelonne, coldly, “for it is you who insult her. A little while since, when on board the admiral’s ship, you wearied the queen, and exhausted the admiral’s patience. I was observing, my lord; and, at first, I concluded you were not in possession of your senses, but I have since surmised the real significance of your madness.”
+
+“Monsieur!” exclaimed Buckingham.
+
+“One moment more, for I have yet another word to add. I trust I am the only one of my companions who has guessed it.”
+
+“Are you aware, monsieur,” said Buckingham, trembling with mingled feelings of anger and uneasiness, “are you aware that you are holding language towards me which requires to be checked?”
+
+“Weigh your words well, my lord,” said Raoul, haughtily; “my nature is not such that its vivacities need checking; whilst you, on the contrary, are descended from a race whose passions are suspected by all true Frenchmen; I repeat, therefore, for the second time, be careful!”
+
+“Careful of what, may I ask? Do you presume to threaten me?”
+
+“I am the son of the Comte de la Fere, my lord, and I never threaten, because I strike first. Therefore, understand me well, the threat that I hold out to you is this -- ”
+
+Buckingham clenched his hands, but Raoul continued, as though he had not observed the gesture. “At the very first word, beyond the respect and deference due to her royal highness, which you permit yourself to use towards her, -- be patient my lord, for I am perfectly so.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Undoubtedly. So long as Madame remained on English territory, I held my peace; but from the very moment she stepped on French ground, and now that we have received her in the name of the prince, I warn you, that at the first mark of disrespect which you, in your insane attachment, exhibit towards the royal house of France, I shall have one of two courses to follow; -- either I declare, in the presence of every one, the madness with which you are now affected, and I get you ignominiously ordered back to England; or if you prefer it, I will run my dagger through your throat in the presence of all here. This second alternative seems to me the least disagreeable, and I think I shall hold to it.”
+
+Buckingham had become paler than the lace collar around his neck. “M. de Bragelonne,” he said, “is it, indeed, a gentleman who is speaking to me?”
+
+“Yes; only the gentleman is speaking to a madman. Get cured, my lord, and he will hold quite another language to you.”
+
+“But, M. de Bragelonne,” murmured the duke, in a voice, half-choked, and putting his hand to his neck, -- “Do you not see I am choking?”
+
+“If your death were to take place at this moment, my lord,” replied Raoul, with unruffled composure, “I should, indeed, regard it as a great happiness, for this circumstance would prevent all kinds of evil remarks; not alone about yourself, but also about those illustrious persons whom your devotion is compromising in so absurd a manner.”
+
+“You are right, you are right,” said the young man, almost beside himself. “Yes, yes; better to die, than to suffer as I do at this moment.” And he grasped a beautiful dagger, the handle of which was inlaid with precious stones; and which he half drew from his breast.
+
+Raoul thrust his hand aside. “Be careful what you do,” he said; “if you do not kill yourself, you commit a ridiculous action; and if you were to kill yourself, you sprinkle blood upon the nuptial robe of the princess of England.”
+
+Buckingham remained a minute gasping for breath; during this interval, his lips quivered, his fingers worked convulsively, and his eyes wandered, as though in delirium. Then suddenly, he said, “M. de Bragelonne, I know nowhere a nobler mind than yours; you are, indeed, a worthy son of the most perfect gentleman that ever lived. Keep your tents.” And he threw his arms round Raoul’s neck. All who were present, astounded at this conduct, which was the very reverse of what was expected, considering the violence of the one adversary and the determination of the other, began immediately to clap their hands, and a thousand cheers and joyful shouts arose from all sides. De Guiche, in his turn, embraced Buckingham somewhat against his inclination; but, at all events, he did embrace him. This was the signal for French and English to do the same; and they who, until that moment, had looked at each other with restless uncertainty, fraternized on the spot. In the meantime, the procession of the princess arrived, and had it not been for Bragelonne, two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and blood would have been shed upon the flowers with which the ground was covered. At the appearance, however, of the banners borne at the head of the procession, complete order was restored.
+
+Chapter XI. Night.
+
+Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess; the French in return invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen; and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three; she appeared an object of worship. The queen-mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened before them. After the public entry was over, and the spectators in the streets had partially dispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the crowd could be heard only in the distance; when the night had closed in, wrapping with its star-covered mantle the sea, the harbor, the town, and surrounding country, De Guiche, still excited by the great events of the day, returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of the stools with so profound an expression of distress that Bragelonne kept his eyes fixed upon him, until he heard him sigh, and then he approached him. The count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs.
+
+“You are suffering?” asked Raoul.
+
+“Cruelly.”
+
+“Bodily, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes; bodily.”
+
+“This has indeed been a harassing day,” continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend.
+
+“Yes; a night’s rest will probably restore me.”
+
+“Shall I leave you?”
+
+“No; I wish to talk to you.”
+
+“You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first answered my questions.”
+
+“Proceed then.”
+
+“You will be frank with me?”
+
+“I always am.”
+
+“Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?”
+
+“I suspect.”
+
+“Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?”
+
+“One could almost swear to it, to observe him.”
+
+“You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind.”
+
+“It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day.”
+
+“You are a poet, my dear count, and find subjects for your muse everywhere.”
+
+“I can perceive love clearly enough.”
+
+“Where it does not exist?”
+
+“Nay, where it does exist.”
+
+“Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?”
+
+“I am convinced of what I say,” said the count.
+
+“Now, inform me, count,” said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him, “what happened to render you so clear-sighted.”
+
+Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered, “Self-love, I suppose.”
+
+“Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening.”
+
+“I am fatigued.”
+
+“Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; we have been on horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our horses dying from exhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneath us, and yet we have laughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to-night.”
+
+“It is annoyance, then.”
+
+“What annoyance?”
+
+“That of this evening.”
+
+“The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?”
+
+“Of course; is it not vexations for us, the representatives of our sovereign master, to witness the devotion of an Englishman to our future mistress, the second lady in point of rank in the kingdom?”
+
+“Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham.”
+
+“No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here, almost succeed in creating a disturbance between the English and ourselves; and, had it not been for you, for your admirable presence, for your singular decision of character, swords would have been drawn in the very streets of the town.”
+
+“You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics.”
+
+“Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice, what did you say to him? You think he loves her; you admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then!” De Guiche pronounced the latter with so marked an expression that Raoul raised his head. The noble character of the young man’s countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read.
+
+“What I said to him, count,” replied Raoul, “I will repeat to you. Listen to me. I said, ‘You are regarding with wistful feelings, and most injurious desire, the sister of your prince, -- her to whom you are not affianced, who is not, who can never be anything to you; you are outraging those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady to escort her to her husband.’”
+
+“You spoke to him in that manner?” asked Guiche, coloring.
+
+“In those very terms; I even added more. ‘How would you regard us,’ I said, ‘if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough, to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respect for a princess who is the destined wife of our master?’”
+
+These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turned pale, and, overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely able to stretch out one hand mechanically towards Raoul, as he covered his eyes and face with the other.
+
+“But,” continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, “Heaven be praised, the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless, even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. I added even more, for I said, ‘Learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France devote ourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing them our affections, as well as our fortunes and our lives; and whenever it may chance to happen that the tempter suggests one of those vile thoughts that set the heart on fire, we extinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by shedding our blood for the purpose. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved: our country’s, our master’s, and our own. It is thus that we act, your Grace; it is thus that every man of honor ought to act.’ In this manner, my dear Guiche,” continued Bragelonne, “I addressed the Duke of Buckingham; and he admitted I was right, and resigned himself unresistingly to my arguments.”
+
+De Guiche, who had hitherto sat leaning forward while Raoul was speaking, drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly; he seized Raoul’s hand, his face, which had been as cold as ice, seemed on fire. “And you spoke magnificently,” he said, in a half-choked voice; “you are indeed a friend, Raoul. But now, I entreat you, leave me to myself.”
+
+“Do you wish it?”
+
+“Yes; I need repose. Many things have agitated me to-day, both in mind and body; when you return to-morrow I shall no longer be the same man.”
+
+“I leave you, then,” said Raoul, as he withdrew. The count advanced a step towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms. But in this friendly pressure Raoul could detect the nervous agitation of a great internal conflict.
+
+The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest had passed away, and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace and security everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens, and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather, tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square in front of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the golden moonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones. Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble light still glimmered in Madame’s apartment, which looked out upon the square, and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of the calm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life’s anxieties, and in whom the flame of existence sinks placidly as sleep steals over the body.
+
+Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of a man curious to observe, but anxious not to be seen. Sheltered behind the thick curtains of his own tent, embracing with a glance the whole square, he noticed that, after a few moments’ pause, the curtains of De Guiche’s tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind them he could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyes, glittering in the obscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess’s sitting apartment, which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The soft light which illumined the windows was the count’s star. The fervent aspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealed in the shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts that established, between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of the princess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy -- a bond created by thoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will, that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon the perfumed couch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devoured so eagerly.
+
+But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. The window of one of the houses looking on the square was opened too, the casement of the house where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light which issued from this latter, the profile of the duke could be distinctly seen, as he indolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvet hangings; he also was breathing in the direction of the princess’s apartment his prayers and the wild visions of his love.
+
+Raoul could not resist smiling, as thinking of Madame, he said to himself, “Hers is, indeed, a heart well besieged;” and then added, compassionately, as he thought of Monsieur, “and he is a husband well threatened too; it is a good thing for him that he is a prince of such high rank, that he has an army to safeguard for him that which is his own.” Bragelonne watched for some time the conduct of the two lovers, listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers of Manicamp, who snored as imperiously as though he was wearing his blue and gold, instead of his violet suit.
+
+Then he turned towards the night breeze which bore towards him, he seemed to think, the distant song of the nightingale; and, after having laid in a due provision of melancholy, another nocturnal malady, he retired to rest thinking, with regard to his own love affair, that perhaps four or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent as those of De Guiche and Buckingham, were coveting his own idol in the chateau at Blois. “And Mademoiselle de Montalais is by no means a very conscientious garrison,” said he to himself, sighing aloud.
+
+Chapter XII. From Le Havre to Paris.
+
+The next day the fetes took place, accompanied by all the pomp and animation that the resources of the town and the cheerful disposition of men’s minds could supply. During the last few hours spent in Le Havre, every preparation for the departure had been made. After Madame had taken leave of the English fleet, and, once again, had saluted the country in saluting its flags, she entered her carriage, surrounded by a brilliant escort. De Guiche had hoped that the Duke of Buckingham would accompany the admiral to England; but Buckingham succeeded in demonstrating to the queen that there would be great impropriety in allowing Madame to proceed to Paris, almost unprotected. As soon as it had been settled that Buckingham was to accompany Madame, the young duke selected a corps of gentlemen and officers to form part of his own suite, so that it was almost an army that now set out towards Paris, scattering gold, and exciting the liveliest demonstrations as they passed through the different towns and villages on the route. The weather was very fine. France is a beautiful country, especially along the route by which the procession passed. Spring cast its flowers and its perfumed foliage on their path. Normandy, with its vast variety of vegetation, its blue skies and silver rivers, displayed itself in all the loveliness of a paradise to the new sister of the king. Fetes and brilliant displays received them everywhere along the line of march. De Guiche and Buckingham forgot everything; De Guiche in his anxiety to prevent any fresh attempts on the part of the duke, and Buckingham, in his desire to awaken in the heart of the princess a softer remembrance of the country to which the recollection of many happy days belonged. But, alas! the poor duke could perceive that the image of that country so cherished by himself became, from day to day, more and more effaced in Madame’s mind, in exact proportion as her affection for France became more deeply engraved on her heart. In fact, it was not difficult to perceive that his most devoted attention awakened no acknowledgement, and that the grace with which he rode one of his most fiery horses was thrown away, for it was only casually and by the merest accident that the princess’s eyes were turned towards him. In vain did he try, in order to fix upon himself one of those looks, which were thrown carelessly around, or bestowed elsewhere, to produce in the animal he rode its greatest display of strength, speed, temper and address; in vain did he, by exciting his horse almost to madness, spur him, at the risk of dashing himself in pieces against the trees, or of rolling in the ditches, over the gates and barriers which they passed, or down the steep declivities of the hills. Madame, whose attention had been aroused by the noise, turned her head for a moment to observe the cause of it, and then, slightly smiling, again entered into conversation with her faithful guardians, Raoul and De Guiche, who were quietly riding at her carriage doors. Buckingham felt himself a prey to all the tortures of jealousy; an unknown, unheard of anguish glided through his veins, and laid siege to his heart; and then, as if to show that he knew the folly of his conduct, and that he wished to correct, by the humblest submission, his flights of absurdity, he mastered his horse, and compelled him, reeking with sweat and flecked with foam, to champ his bit close beside the carriage, amidst the crowd of courtiers. Occasionally he obtained a word from Madame as a recompense, and yet her speech seemed almost a reproach.
+
+“That is well, my lord,” she said, “now you are reasonable.”
+
+Or from Raoul, “Your Grace is killing your horse.”
+
+Buckingham listened patiently to Raoul’s remarks, for he instinctively felt, without having had any proof that such was the case, that Raoul checked the display of De Guiche’s feelings, and that, had it not been for Raoul, some mad act or proceeding, either of the count, or of Buckingham himself, would have brought about an open rupture, or a disturbance -- perhaps even exile itself. From the moment of that excited conversation the two young men had held in front of the tents at Le Havre, when Raoul made the duke perceive the impropriety of his conduct, Buckingham felt himself attracted towards Raoul almost in spite of himself. He often entered into conversation with him, and it was nearly always to talk to him either of his father or of D’Artagnan, their mutual friend, in whose praise Buckingham was nearly as enthusiastic as Raoul. Raoul endeavored, as much as possible, to make the conversation turn upon this subject in De Wardes’s presence, who had, during the whole journey, been exceedingly annoyed at the superior position taken by Bragelonne, and especially by his influence over De Guiche. De Wardes had that keen and merciless penetration most evil natures possess; he had immediately remarked De Guiche’s melancholy, and divined the nature of his regard for the princess. Instead, however, of treating the subject with the same reserve which Raoul practiced; instead of regarding with that respect, which was their due, the obligations and duties of society, De Wardes resolutely attacked in the count the ever-sounding chord of juvenile audacity and pride. It happened one evening, during a halt at Mantes, that while De Guiche and De Wardes were leaning against a barrier, engaged in conversation, Buckingham and Raoul were also talking together as they walked up and down. Manicamp was engaged in devoted attendance on the princess, who already treated him without reserve, on account of his versatile fancy, his frank courtesy of manner, and conciliatory disposition.
+
+“Confess,” said De Wardes, “that you are really ill, and that your pedagogue of a friend has not succeeded in curing you.”
+
+“I do not understand you,” said the count.
+
+“And yet it is easy enough; you are dying of love.”
+
+“You are mad, De Wardes.”
+
+“Madness it would be, I admit, if Madame were really indifferent to your martyrdom; but she takes so much notice of it, observes it to such an extent, that she compromises herself, and I tremble lest, on our arrival at Paris, M. de Bragelonne may not denounce both of you.”
+
+“For shame, De Wardes, again attacking De Bragelonne.”
+
+“Come, come, a truce to child’s play,” replied the count’s evil genius, in an undertone; “you know as well as I do what I mean. Besides, you must have observed how the princess’s glance softens as she looks at you; -- you can tell, by the very inflection of her voice, what pleasure she takes in listening to you, and can feel how thoroughly she appreciates the verses you recite to her. You cannot deny, too, that every morning she tells you how indifferently she slept the previous night.”
+
+“True, De Wardes, quite true; but what good is there in your telling me all that?”
+
+“Is it not important to know the exact position of affairs?”
+
+“No, no; not when I am a witness of things that are enough to drive one mad.”
+
+“Stay, stay,” said De Wardes; “look, she calls you, -- do you understand? Profit by the occasion, while your pedagogue is absent.”
+
+De Guiche could not resist; an invincible attraction drew him towards the princess. De Wardes smiled as he saw him withdraw.
+
+“You are mistaken, monsieur,” said Raoul, suddenly stepping across the barrier against which the previous moment the two friends had been leaning. “The pedagogue is here, and has overheard you.”
+
+De Wardes, at the sound of Raoul’s voice, which he recognized without having occasion to look at him, half drew his sword.
+
+“Put up your sword,” said Raoul; “you know perfectly well that, until our journey is at an end, every demonstration of that nature is useless. Why do you distill into the heart of the man you term your friend all the bitterness that infects your own? As regards myself, you wish to arouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor -- my father’s friend and my own; and as for the count you wish him to love one who is destined for your master. Really, monsieur, I should regard you as a coward, and a traitor too, if I did not, with greater justice, regard you as a madman.”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed De Wardes, exasperated, “I was deceived, I find, in terming you a pedagogue. The tone you assume, and the style which is peculiarly your own, is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman. Discontinue, I beg, whenever I am present, this style I complain of, and the tone also. I hate M. d’Artagnan, because he was guilty of a cowardly act towards my father.”
+
+“You lie, monsieur,” said Raoul, coolly.
+
+“You give me the lie, monsieur?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“Why not, if what you assert is untrue?”
+
+“You give me the lie, and will not draw your sword?”
+
+“I have resolved, monsieur, not to kill you until Madame shall have been delivered safely into her husband’s hands.”
+
+“Kill me! Believe me, monsieur, your schoolmaster’s rod does not kill so easily.”
+
+“No,” replied Raoul, sternly, “but M. d’Artagnan’s sword kills; and, not only do I possess his sword, but he has himself taught me how to use it; and with that sword, when a befitting time arrives, I will avenge his name -- a name you have dishonored.”
+
+“Take care, monsieur,” exclaimed De Wardes; “if you do not immediately give me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revenge myself.”
+
+“Indeed, monsieur,” said Buckingham, suddenly, appearing upon the scene of action, “that is a threat which savors of assassination, and therefore, ill becomes a gentleman.”
+
+“What did you say, my lord?” said De Wardes, turning round towards him.
+
+“I said, monsieur, that the words you have just spoken are displeasing to my English ears.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur, if what you say is true,” exclaimed De Wardes, thoroughly incensed, “I at least find in you one who will not escape me. Understand my words as you like.”
+
+“I take them in the manner they cannot but be understood,” replied Buckingham, with that haughty tone which characterized him, and which, even in ordinary conversation, gave a tone of defiance to everything he said; “M. de Bragelonne is my friend, you insult M. de Bragelonne, and you shall give me satisfaction for that insult.”
+
+De Wardes cast a look upon De Bragelonne, who, faithful to the character he had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke’s defiance.
+
+“It would seem that I did not insult M. de Bragelonne, since M. de Bragelonne, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himself insulted.”
+
+“At all events you insult someone.”
+
+“Yes, I insulted M. d’Artagnan,” resumed De Wardes, who had observed that this was the only means of stinging Raoul, so as to awaken his anger.
+
+“That, then,” said Buckingham, “is another matter.”
+
+“Precisely so,” said De Wardes; “it is the province of M. d’Artagnan’s friends to defend him.”
+
+“I am entirely of your opinion,” replied the duke, who had regained all his indifference of manner; “if M. de Bragelonne were offended, I could not reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himself here; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M. d’Artagnan -- ”
+
+“You will of course leave me to deal with the matter,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword,” said Buckingham, unsheathing it as he spoke; “for if M. d’Artagnan injured your father, he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a great service to mine.”
+
+De Wardes was thunderstruck.
+
+“M. d’Artagnan,” continued Buckingham, “is the bravest gentleman I know. I shall be delighted, as I owe him many personal obligations, to settle them with you, by crossing my sword with yours.” At the same moment Buckingham drew his sword from its scabbard, saluted Raoul, and put himself on guard.
+
+De Wardes advanced a step to meet him.
+
+“Stay, gentlemen,” said Raoul, advancing towards them, and placing his own drawn sword between the combatants, “the affair is hardly worth the trouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess. M. de Wardes speaks ill of M. d’Artagnan, with whom he is not even acquainted.”
+
+“What, monsieur,” said De Wardes, setting his teeth hard together, and resting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot, “do you assert that I do not know M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Certainly not; you do not know him,” replied Raoul, coldly, “and you are even not aware where he is to be found.”
+
+“Not know where he is?”
+
+“Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him upon strangers, instead of seeking M. d’Artagnan where he is to be found.” De Wardes turned pale. “Well, monsieur,” continued Raoul, “I will tell you where M. d’Artagnan is: he is now in Paris; when on duty he is to be met with at the Louvre, -- when not on duty, in the Rue des Lombards. M. d’Artagnan can easily be discovered at either of those two places. Having, therefore, as you assert, so many causes of complaint against him, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunity of giving you that satisfaction you seem to ask of every one but of himself.” De Wardes passed his hand across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. “For shame, M. de Wardes! so quarrelsome a disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of the edicts against duels. Pray think of that; the king will be incensed at our disobedience, particularly at such a time, -- and his majesty will be in the right.”
+
+“Excuses,” murmured De Wardes; “mere pretexts.”
+
+“Really, M. De Wardes,” resumed Raoul, “such remarks are the idlest bluster. You know very well that the Duke of Buckingham is a man of undoubted courage, who has already fought ten duels, and will probably fight eleven. His name alone is significant enough. As far as I am concerned, you are well aware that I can fight also. I fought at Lens, at Bleneau, at the Dunes in front of the artillery, a hundred paces in front of the line, while you -- I say this parenthetically -- were a hundred paces behind it. True it is, that on that occasion there was far too great a concourse of persons present for your courage to be observed, and on that account perhaps you did not reveal it; while here, it would be a display, and would excite remark -- you wish that others should talk about you, in what manner you do not care. Do not depend upon me, M. de Wardes to assist you in your designs, for I shall certainly not afford you that pleasure.”
+
+“Sensibly observed,” said Buckingham, putting up his sword, “and I ask your forgiveness, M. de Bragelonne, for having allowed myself to yield to a first impulse.”
+
+De Wardes, however, on the contrary, perfectly furious, bounded forward and raised his sword, threateningly, against Raoul, who had scarcely enough time to put himself in a posture of defense.
+
+“Take care, monsieur,” said Bragelonne, tranquilly, “or you will put out one of my eyes.”
+
+“You will not fight, then?” said De Wardes.
+
+“Not at this moment; but this I promise to do; immediately on our arrival at Paris I will conduct you to M. d’Artagnan, to whom you shall detail all the causes of complaint you have against him. M d’Artagnan will solicit the king’s permission to measure swords with you. The king will yield his consent, and when you shall have received the sword-thrust in due course, you will consider, in a calmer frame of mind, the precepts of the Gospel, which enjoin forgetfulness of injuries.”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed De Wardes, furious at this imperturbable coolness, “one can clearly see you are half a bastard, M. de Bragelonne.”
+
+Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning, causing De Wardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham, also, who had perceived their expression, threw himself between the two adversaries, whom he had expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes had reserved this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in his hand, and awaited the encounter. “You are right, monsieur,” said Raoul, mastering his emotion, “I am only acquainted with my father’s name; but I know too well that the Comte de la Fere is too upright and honorable a man to allow me to fear for a single moment that there is, as you insinuate, any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of my mother’s name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach. You are deficient in loyalty of conduct; you are wanting in courtesy, in reproaching me with misfortune. It matters little, however, the insult has been given, and I consider myself insulted accordingly. It is quite understood, then, that after you shall have received satisfaction from M. d’Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me.”
+
+“I admire your prudence, monsieur,” replied De Wardes with a bitter smile; “a little while ago you promised me a sword-thrust from M. d’Artagnan, and now, after I shall have received his, you offer me one from yourself.”
+
+“Do not disturb yourself,” replied Raoul, with concentrated anger; “in all affairs of that nature, M. d’Artagnan is exceedingly skillful, and I will beg him as a favor to treat you as he did your father; in other words, to spare your life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure, after your recovery, of killing you outright; for you have the heart of a viper, M. de Wardes, and in very truth, too many precautions cannot be taken against you.”
+
+“I shall take my precautions against you,” said De Wardes, “be assured of it.”
+
+“Allow me, monsieur,” said Buckingham, “to translate your remark by a piece of advice I am about to give M. de Bragelonne; M. de Bragelonne, wear a cuirass.”
+
+De Wardes clenched his hands. “Ah!” said he, “you two gentlemen intend to wait until you have taken that precaution before you measure your swords against mine.”
+
+“Very well, monsieur,” said Raoul, “since you positively will have it so, let us settle the affair now.” And, drawing his sword, he advanced towards De Wardes.
+
+“What are you going to do?” said Buckingham.
+
+“Be easy,” said Raoul, “it will not be very long.”
+
+De Wardes placed himself on his guard; their swords crossed. De Wardes flew upon Raoul with such impetuosity, that at the first clashing of the steel blades Buckingham clearly saw that Raoul was only trifling with his adversary. Buckingham stepped aside, and watched the combat. Raoul was as calm as if he were handling a foil instead of a sword; having retreated a step, he parried three or four fierce thrusts which De Wardes made at him, caught the sword of the latter with within his own, and sent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as De Wardes stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat, Raoul sheathed his sword, seized him by the collar and the waist band, and hurled his adversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with rage.
+
+“We shall meet again,” murmured De Wardes, rising from the ground and picking up his sword.
+
+“I have done nothing for the last hour,” said Raoul, rising from the ground, “but say the same thing.” Then, turning towards the duke, he said, “I entreat you to be silent about this affair; I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my anger carried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it; -- forget it, too.”
+
+“Dear viscount,” said the duke, pressing with his own the vigorous and valiant hand of his companion, “allow me, on the contrary, to remember it, and to look after your safety; that man is dangerous, -- he will kill you.”
+
+“My father,” replied Raoul, “lived for twenty years under the menace of a much more formidable enemy, and he still lives.”
+
+“Your father had good friends, viscount.”
+
+“Yes,” sighed Raoul, “such friends, indeed, that none are now left like them.”
+
+“Do not say that, I beg, at the very moment I offer you my friendship;” and Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Raoul, who delightedly received the proffered alliance. “In my family,” added Buckingham, “you are aware, M. de Bragelonne, we die to save our friends.”
+
+“I know it well, duke,” replied Raoul.
+
+Chapter XIII. An Account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine Thought of Madame.
+
+Nothing further interrupted the journey. Under a pretext that was little remarked, M. de Wardes went forward in advance of the others. He took Manicamp with him, for his equable and dreamy disposition acted as a counterpoise to his own. It is a subject of remark, that quarrelsome and restless characters invariably seek the companionship of gentle, timorous dispositions, as if the former sought, in the contrast, a repose for their own ill-humor, and the latter a protection for their weakness. Buckingham and Bragelonne, admitting De Guiche into their friendship, in concert with him, sang the praises of the princess during the whole of the journey. Bragelonne, had, however, insisted that their three voices should be in concert, instead of singing in solo parts, as De Guiche and his rival seemed to have acquired a dangerous habit of doing. This style of harmony pleased the queen-mother exceedingly, but it was not perhaps so agreeable to the young princess, who was an incarnation of coquetry, and who, without any fear as far as her own voice was concerned, sought opportunities of so perilously distinguishing herself. She possessed one of those fearless and incautious dispositions that find gratification in an excess of sensitiveness of feeling, and for whom, also, danger has a certain fascination. And so her glances, her smiles, her toilette, an inexhaustible armory of weapons of offense, were showered on the three young men with overwhelming force; and, from her well-stored arsenal issued glances, kindly recognitions, and a thousand other little charming attentions which were intended to strike at long range the gentlemen who formed the escort, the townspeople, the officers of the different cities she passed through, pages, populace, and servants; it was wholesale slaughter, a general devastation. By the time Madame arrived at Paris, she had reduced to slavery about a hundred thousand lovers: and brought in her train to Paris half a dozen men who were almost mad about her, and two who were, indeed, literally out of their minds. Raoul was the only person who divined the power of this woman’s attraction, and as his heart was already engaged, he arrived in the capital full of indifference and distrust. Occasionally during the journey he conversed with the queen of England respecting the power of fascination which Madame possessed, and the mother, whom so many misfortunes and deceptions had taught experience, replied: “Henrietta was sure to be illustrious in one way or another, whether born in a palace or born in obscurity; for she is a woman of great imagination, capricious and self-willed.” De Wardes and Manicamp, in their self-assumed character of courtiers, had announced the princess’s arrival. The procession was met at Nanterre by a brilliant escort of cavaliers and carriages. It was Monsieur himself, followed by the Chevalier de Lorraine and by his favorites, the latter being themselves followed by a portion of the king’s military household, who had arrived to meet his affianced bride. At St. Germain, the princess and her mother had changed their heavy traveling carriage, somewhat impaired by the journey, for a light, richly decorated chariot drawn by six horses with white and gold harness. Seated in this open carriage, as though upon a throne, and beneath a parasol of embroidered silk, fringed with feathers, sat the young and lovely princess, on whose beaming face were reflected the softened rose-tints which suited her delicate skin to perfection. Monsieur, on reaching the carriage, was struck by her beauty; he showed his admiration in so marked a manner that the Chevalier de Lorraine shrugged his shoulders as he listened to his compliments, while Buckingham and De Guiche were almost heart-broken. After the usual courtesies had been rendered, and the ceremony completed, the procession slowly resumed the road to Paris. The presentations had been carelessly made, and Buckingham, with the rest of the English gentlemen, had been introduced to Monsieur, from whom they had received but very indifferent attention. But, during their progress, as he observed that the duke devoted himself with his accustomed eagerness to the carriage-door, he asked the Chevalier de Lorraine, his inseparable companion, “Who is that cavalier?”
+
+“He was presented to your highness a short while ago; it is the handsome Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Ah, yes, I remember.”
+
+“Madame’s knight,” added the favorite, with an inflection of the voice which envious minds can alone give to the simplest phrases.
+
+“What do you say?” replied the prince.
+
+“I said ‘Madame’s knight’.”
+
+“Has she a recognized knight, then?”
+
+“One would think you can judge of that for yourself; look, only, how they are laughing and flirting. All three of them.”
+
+“What do you mean by all three?”
+
+“Do you not see that De Guiche is one of the party?”
+
+“Yes, I see. But what does that prove?”
+
+“That Madame has two admirers instead of one.”
+
+“You poison the simplest thing!”
+
+“I poison nothing. Ah! your royal highness’s mind is perverted. The honors of the kingdom of France are being paid to your wife and you are not satisfied.”
+
+The Duke of Orleans dreaded the satirical humor of the Chevalier de Lorraine whenever it reached a certain degree of bitterness, and he changed the conversation abruptly. “The princess is pretty,” said he, very negligently, as if he were speaking of a stranger.
+
+“Yes,” replied the chevalier, in the same tone.
+
+“You say ‘yes’ like a ‘no’. She has very beautiful black eyes.”
+
+“Yes, but small.”
+
+“That is so, but they are brilliant. She is tall, and of a good figure.”
+
+“I fancy she stoops a little, my lord.”
+
+“I do not deny it. She has a noble appearance.”
+
+“Yes, but her face is thin.”
+
+“I thought her teeth beautiful.”
+
+“They can easily be seen, for her mouth is large enough. Decidedly, I was wrong, my lord; you are certainly handsomer than your wife.”
+
+“But do you think me as handsome as Buckingham?”
+
+“Certainly, and he thinks so, too; for look, my lord, he is redoubling his attentions to Madame to prevent your effacing the impression he has made.”
+
+Monsieur made a movement of impatience, but as he noticed a smile of triumph pass across the chevalier’s lips, he drew up his horse to a foot-pace. “Why,” said he, “should I occupy myself any longer about my cousin? Do I not already know her? Were we not brought up together? Did I not see her at the Louvre when she was quite a child?”
+
+“A great change has taken place in her since then, prince. At the period you allude to, she was somewhat less brilliant, and scarcely so proud, either. One evening, particularly, you may remember, my lord, the king refused to dance with her, because he thought her plain and badly dressed!”
+
+These words made the Duke of Orleans frown. It was by no means flattering for him to marry a princess of whom, when young, the king had not thought much. He would probably have retorted, but at this moment De Guiche quitted the carriage to join the prince. He had remarked the prince and the chevalier together, and full of anxious attention he seemed to try and guess the nature of the remarks which they had just exchanged. The chevalier, whether he had some treacherous object in view, or from imprudence, did not take the trouble to dissimulate. “Count,” he said, “you’re a man of excellent taste.”
+
+“Thank you for the compliment,” replied De Guiche; “but why do you say that?”
+
+“Well I appeal to his highness.”
+
+“No doubt of it,” said Monsieur; “and Guiche knows perfectly well that I regard him as a most finished cavalier.”
+
+“Well, since that is decided, I resume. You have been in the princess’s society, count, for the last eight days, have you not?”
+
+“Yes,” replied De Guiche, coloring in spite of himself.
+
+“Well then, tell us frankly, what do you think of her personal appearance?”
+
+“Of her personal appearance?” returned De Guiche, stupefied.
+
+“Yes; of her appearance, of her mind, of herself, in fact.”
+
+Astounded by this question, De Guiche hesitated answering.
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche,” resumed the chevalier, laughingly, “tell us your opinion frankly; the prince commands it.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the prince, “be frank.”
+
+De Guiche stammered out a few unintelligible words.
+
+“I am perfectly well aware,” returned Monsieur, “that the subject is a delicate one, but you know you can tell me everything. What do you think of her?”
+
+In order to avoid betraying his real thoughts, De Guiche had recourse to the only defense which a man taken by surprise really has, and accordingly told an untruth. “I do not find Madame,” he said, “either good or bad looking, yet rather good than bad looking.”
+
+“What! count,” exclaimed the chevalier, “you who went into such ecstasies and uttered so many exclamations at the sight of her portrait.”
+
+De Guiche colored violently. Very fortunately, his horse, which was slightly restive, enabled him by a sudden plunge to conceal his agitation. “What portrait?” he murmured, joining them again. The chevalier had not taken his eyes off him.
+
+“Yes, the portrait. Was not the miniature a good likeness?”
+
+“I do not remember. I had forgotten the portrait; it quite escaped my recollection.”
+
+“And yet it made a very marked impression upon you,” said the chevalier.
+
+“That is not unlikely.”
+
+“Is she witty, at all events?” inquired the duke.
+
+“I believe so, my lord.”
+
+“Is M. de Buckingham witty, too?” said the chevalier.
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+“My own opinion is that he must be,” replied the chevalier, “for he makes Madame laugh, and she seems to take no little pleasure in his society, which never happens to a clever woman when in the company of a simpleton.”
+
+“Of course, then, he must be clever,” said De Guiche, simply.
+
+At this moment Raoul opportunely arrived, seeing how De Guiche was pressed by his dangerous questioner, to whom he addressed a remark, and in that way changed the conversation. The entree was brilliant and joyous.
+
+The king, in honor of his brother, had directed that the festivities should be on a scale of the greatest possible magnificence. Madame and her mother alighted at the Louvre, where, during their exile they had so gloomily submitted to obscurity, misery, and privations of every description. That palace, which had been so inhospitable a residence for the unhappy daughter of Henry IV., the naked walls, the uneven floorings, the ceilings matted with cobwebs, the vast dilapidated chimney-places, the cold hearths on which the charity extended to them by parliament hardly permitted a fire to glow, was completely altered in appearance. The richest hangings and the thickest carpets, glistening flagstones, and pictures, with their richly gilded frames; in every direction could be seen candelabra, mirrors, and furniture and fittings of the most sumptuous character; in every direction, also, were guards of the proudest military bearing, with floating plumes, crowds of attendants and courtiers in the ante-chambers and upon the staircases. In the courtyards, where the grass had formerly been allowed to luxuriate, as if the ungrateful Mazarin had thought it a good idea to let the Parisians perceive the solitude and disorder were, with misery and despair, the fit accompaniments of fallen monarchy; the immense courtyards, formerly silent and desolate, were now thronged with courtiers whose horses were pacing and prancing to and fro. The carriages were filled with young and beautiful women, who awaited the opportunity of saluting, as she passed, the daughter of that daughter of France who, during her widowhood and exile, had sometimes gone without wood for her fire, and bread for her table, whom the meanest attendant at the chateau had treated with indifference and contempt. And so, the Madame Henriette once more returned to the Louvre, with her heart more swollen with bitter recollections than her daughter’s, whose disposition was fickle and forgetful, with triumph and delight. She knew but too well this brilliant reception was paid to the happy mother of a king restored to his throne, a throne second to none in Europe, while the worse than indifferent reception she had before met with was paid to her, the daughter of Henry IV., as a punishment for having been unfortunate. After the princess had been installed in their apartments and had rested, the gentlemen who had formed their escort, having, in like manner, recovered from their fatigue, they resumed their accustomed habits and occupations. Raoul began by setting off to see his father, who had left for Blois. He then tried to see M. d’Artagnan, who, however, being engaged in the organization of a military household for the king, could not be found anywhere. Bragelonne next sought out De Guiche, but the count was occupied in a long conference with his tailors and with Manicamp, which consumed his whole time. With the Duke of Buckingham he fared still worse, for the duke was purchasing horses after horses, diamonds upon diamonds. He monopolized every embroiderer, jeweler, and tailor that Paris could boast of. Between De Guiche and himself a vigorous contest ensued, invariably a courteous one, in which, in order to insure success, the duke was ready to spend a million; while the Marechal de Gramont had only allowed his son sixty thousand francs. So Buckingham laughed and spent his money. Guiche groaned in despair, and would have shown it more violently, had it not been for the advice De Bragelonne gave him.
+
+“A million!” repeated De Guiche daily; “I must submit. Why will not the marechal advance me a portion of my patrimony?”
+
+“Because you would throw it away,” said Raoul.
+
+“What can that matter to him? If I am to die of it, I shall die of it, and then I shall need nothing further.”
+
+“But what need is there to die?” said Raoul.
+
+“I do not wish to be conquered in elegance by an Englishman.”
+
+“My dear count,” said Manicamp, “elegance is not a costly commodity, it is only a very difficult accomplishment.”
+
+“Yes, but difficult things cost a good deal of money, and I have only got sixty thousand francs.”
+
+“A very embarrassing state of things, truly,” said De Wardes; “even if you spent as much as Buckingham, there is only nine hundred and forty thousand francs difference.”
+
+“Where am I to find them?”
+
+“Get into debt.”
+
+“I am in debt already.”
+
+“A greater reason for getting further.”
+
+Advice like this resulted in De Guiche becoming excited to such an extent that he committed extravagances where Buckingham only incurred expenses. The rumor of this extravagant profuseness delighted the hearts of all the shopkeepers in Paris; from the hotel of the Duke of Buckingham to that of the Comte de Gramont nothing but miracles was attempted. While all this was going on, Madame was resting herself, and Bragelonne was engaged in writing to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. He had already dispatched four letters, and not an answer to any one of them had been received, when, on the very morning fixed for the marriage ceremony, which was to take place in the chapel at the Palais Royal, Raoul, who was dressing, heard his valet announce M. de Malicorne. “What can this Malicorne want with me?” thought Raoul; and then said to his valet, “Let him wait.”
+
+“It is a gentleman from Blois,” said the valet.
+
+“Admit him at once,” said Raoul, eagerly.
+
+Malicorne entered as brilliant as a star, and wearing a superb sword at his side. After having saluted Raoul most gracefully, he said: “M. de Bragelonne, I am the bearer of a thousand compliments from a lady to you.”
+
+Raoul colored. “From a lady,” said he, “from a lady of Blois?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur; from Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
+
+“Thank you, monsieur; I recollect you now,” said Raoul. “And what does Mademoiselle de Montalais require of me.”
+
+Malicorne drew four letters from his pocket, which he offered to Raoul.
+
+“My own letters, is it possible?” he said, turning pale; “my letters, and the seals unbroken?”
+
+“Monsieur, your letters did not find at Blois the person to whom they were addressed, and so they are now returned to you.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere has left Blois, then?” exclaimed Raoul.
+
+“Eight days ago.”
+
+“Where is she, then?”
+
+“In Paris.”
+
+“How is it known that these letters were from me?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Montalais recognized your handwriting and your seal,” said Malicorne.
+
+Raoul colored and smiled. “Mademoiselle de Montalais is exceedingly amiable,” he said; “she is always kind and charming.”
+
+“Always, monsieur.”
+
+“Surely she could have given me some precise information about Mademoiselle de la Valliere. I never could find her in this immense city.”
+
+Malicorne drew another packet from his pocket. “You may possibly find in this letter what you are anxious to learn.”
+
+Raoul hurriedly broke the seal. The writing was that of Mademoiselle Aure, and inclosed were these words: -- “Paris, Palais Royal. The day of the nuptial blessing.”
+
+“What does this mean?” inquired Raoul of Malicorne; “you probably know?”
+
+“I do, monsieur.”
+
+“For pity’s sake, tell me, then.”
+
+“Impossible, monsieur.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because Mademoiselle Aure has forbidden me to do so.”
+
+Raoul looked at his strange visitor, and remained silent; -- “At least, tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate.”
+
+“That you will see.”
+
+“You are very severe in your reservations.”
+
+“Will you grant me one favor, monsieur?” said Malicorne.
+
+“In exchange for that you refuse me?”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticket to admit me, in spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one. Could you get me admitted?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Do me this kindness, then, I entreat.”
+
+“Most willingly, monsieur; come with me.”
+
+“I am exceedingly indebted to you, monsieur,” said Malicorne.
+
+“I thought you were a friend of M. de Manicamp.”
+
+“I am, monsieur; but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, and I let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at me sword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is the reason I could not ask him for a ticket. He wanted to kill me.”
+
+“I can well believe it,” laughed Raoul. “I know Manicamp is capable of killing a man who has been unfortunate enough to commit the crime you have to reproach yourself with, but I will repair the mischief as far as you are concerned. I will but fasten my cloak, and shall then be ready to serve you, not only as a guide, but as your introducer, too.”
+
+Chapter XIV. A Surprise for Raoul.
+
+Madame’s marriage was celebrated in the chapel of the Palais Royal, in the presence of a crowd of courtiers, who had been most scrupulously selected. However, notwithstanding the marked favor which an invitation indicated, Raoul, faithful to his promise to Malicorne, who was so anxious to witness the ceremony, obtained admission for him. After he had fulfilled this engagement, Raoul approached De Guiche, who, as if in contrast with his magnificent costume, exhibited a countenance so utterly dejected, that the Duke of Buckingham was the only one present who could contend with him as far as pallor and discomfiture were concerned.
+
+“Take care, count,” said Raoul, approaching his friend, and preparing to support him at the moment the archbishop blessed the married couple. In fact, the Prince of Conde was attentively scrutinizing these two images of desolation, standing like caryatides on either side of the nave of the church. The count, after that, kept a more careful watch over himself.
+
+At the termination of the ceremony, the king and queen passed onward towards the grand reception-room, where Madame and her suite were to be presented to them. It was remarked that the king, who had seemed more than surprised at his sister-in-law’s appearance, was most flattering in his compliments to her. Again, it was remarked that the queen-mother, fixing a long and thoughtful gaze upon Buckingham, leaned towards Madame de Motteville as though to ask her, “Do you not see how much he resembles his father?” and finally it was remarked that Monsieur watched everybody, and seemed quite discontented. After the reception of the princess and ambassadors, Monsieur solicited the king’s permission to present to him as well as to Madame the persons belonging to their new household.
+
+“Are you aware, vicomte,” inquired the Prince de Conde of Raoul, “whether the household has been selected by a person of taste, and whether there are any faces worth looking at?”
+
+“I have not the slightest idea, monseigneur,” replied Raoul.
+
+“You affect ignorance, surely.”
+
+“In what way, monseigneur?”
+
+“You are a friend of De Guiche, who is one of the friends of the prince.”
+
+“That may be so, monseigneur; but the matter having no interest whatever for me, I have never questioned De Guiche on the subject; and De Guiche, on his part, never having been questioned, did not communicate any particulars to me.”
+
+“But Manicamp?”
+
+“It is true I saw Manicamp at Le Havre, and during the journey here, but I was no more inquisitive with him than I had been towards De Guiche. Besides, is it likely that Manicamp should know anything of such matters? for he is a person of only secondary importance.”
+
+“My dear vicomte, do you not know better than that?” said the prince; “why, it is these persons of secondary importance, who, on such occasions, have all the influence; and the truth is, that nearly everything has been done through Manicamp’s presentations to De Guiche, and through De Guiche to Monsieur.”
+
+“I assure you, monseigneur, I was ignorant of that,” said Raoul, “and what your highness does me the honor to impart is perfectly new to me.”
+
+“I will most readily believe you, although it seems incredible; besides we shall not have long to wait. See, the flying squadron is advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Ah! ah! what pretty faces!”
+
+A bevy of young girls at this moment entered the salon, conducted by Madame de Navailles, and to Manicamp’s credit be it said, if indeed he had taken that part in their selection which the Prince de Conde assigned him, it was a display calculated to dazzle those who, like the prince, could appreciate every character and style of beauty. A young, fair-complexioned girl, from twenty to one-and-twenty years of age, and whose large blue eyes flashed, as she opened them, in the most dazzling manner, walked at the head of the band and was the first presented.
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente,” said Madame de Navailles to Monsieur, who, as he saluted his wife, repeated “Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said the Prince de Conde to Raoul, “she is presentable enough.”
+
+“Yes,” said Raoul, “but has she not a somewhat haughty style?”
+
+“Bah! we know these airs very well, vicomte; three months hence she will be tame enough. But look, there, indeed, is a pretty face.”
+
+“Yes,” said Raoul, “and one I am acquainted with.”
+
+“Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais,” said Madame de Navailles. The name and Christian name were carefully repeated by Monsieur.
+
+“Great heavens!” exclaimed Raoul, fixing his bewildered gaze upon the entrance doorway.
+
+“What’s the matter?” inquired the prince; “was it Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais who made you utter such a ‘Great heavens’?”
+
+“No, monseigneur, no,” replied Raoul, pale and trembling.
+
+“Well, then, if it be not Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, it is that pretty blonde who follows her. What beautiful eyes! She is rather thin, but has fascinations without number.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere!” said Madame de Navailles; and, as this name resounded through his whole being, a cloud seemed to rise from his breast to his eyes, so that he neither saw nor heard anything more; and the prince, finding him nothing more than a mere echo which remained silent under his railleries, moved forward to inspect somewhat closer the beautiful girls whom his first glance had already particularized.
+
+“Louise here! Louise a maid of honor to Madame!” murmured Raoul, and his eyes, which did not suffice to satisfy his reason, wandered from Louise to Montalais. The latter had already emancipated herself from her assumed timidity, which she only needed for the presentation and for her reverences.
+
+Mademoiselle de Montalais, from the corner of the room to which she had retired, was looking with no slight confidence at the different persons present; and, having discovered Raoul, she amused herself with the profound astonishment which her own and her friend’s presence there caused the unhappy lover. Her waggish and malicious look, which Raoul tried to avoid meeting, and which yet he sought inquiringly from time to time, placed him on the rack. As for Louise, whether from natural timidity, or some other reason for which Raoul could not account, she kept her eyes constantly cast down; intimidated, dazzled, and with impeded respiration, she withdrew herself as much as possible aside, unaffected even by the nudges Montalais gave her with her elbow. The whole scene was a perfect enigma for Raoul, the key to which he would have given anything to obtain. But no one was there who could assist him, not even Malicorne; who, a little uneasy at finding himself in the presence of so many persons of good birth, and not a little discouraged by Montalais’s bantering glances, had described a circle, and by degrees succeeded in getting a few paces from the prince, behind the group of maids of honor, and nearly within reach of Mademoiselle Aure’s voice, she being the planet around which he, as her attendant satellite, seemed constrained to gravitate. As he recovered his self-possession, Raoul fancied he recognized voices on his right hand side that were familiar to him, and he perceived De Wardes, De Guiche, and the Chevalier de Lorraine conversing together. It is true they were talking in tones so low, that the sound of their words could hardly be heard in the vast apartment. To speak in that manner from any particular place without bending down, or turning round, or looking at the person with whom one may be engaged in conversation, is a talent that cannot be immediately acquired by newcomers. Long study is needed for such conversations, which, without a look, gesture, or movement of the head, seem like the conversation of a group of statues. In fact, the king’s and queen’s grand assemblies, while their majesties were speaking, and while every one present seemed to be listening in the midst of the most profound silence, some of these noiseless conversations took place, in which adulation was not the prevailing feature. But Raoul was one among others exceedingly clever in this art, so much a matter of etiquette, that from the movement of the lips, he was often able to guess the sense of the words.
+
+“Who is that Montalais?” inquired De Wardes, “and that La Valliere? What country-town have we had sent here?”
+
+“Montalais?” said the chevalier, -- “oh, I know her; she is a good sort of girl, whom we shall find amusing enough. La Valliere is a charming girl, slightly lame.”
+
+“Ah! bah!” said De Wardes.
+
+“Do not be absurd, De Wardes, there are some very characteristic and ingenious Latin axioms about lame ladies.”
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said De Guiche, looking at Raoul with uneasiness, “be a little careful, I entreat you.”
+
+But the uneasiness of the count, in appearance at least, was not needed. Raoul had preserved the firmest and most indifferent countenance, although he had not lost a word that passed. He seemed to keep an account of the insolence and license of the two speakers in order to settle matters with them at the earliest opportunity.
+
+De Wardes seemed to guess what was passing in his mind, and continued:
+
+“Who are these young ladies’ lovers?”
+
+“Montalais’s lover?” said the chevalier.
+
+“Yes, Montalais first.”
+
+“You, I, or De Guiche, -- whoever likes, in fact.”
+
+“And the other?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Take care, gentlemen,” exclaimed De Guiche, anxious to put a stop to the chevalier’s reply; “take care, Madame is listening to us.”
+
+Raoul had thrust his hand up to the wrist into his justaucorps in great agitation. But the very malignity which he saw was excited against these poor girls made him take a serious resolution. “Poor Louise,” he thought, “has come here only with an honorable object in view, and under honorable protection; and I must learn what that object is which she has in view, and who it is that protects her.” And following Malicorne’s maneuver, he made his way toward the group of the maids of honor. The presentations were soon over. The king, who had done nothing but look at and admire Madame, shortly afterwards left the reception-room, accompanied by the two queens. The Chevalier de Lorraine resumed his place beside Monsieur, and, as he accompanied him, insinuated a few drops of the venom he had collected during the last hour, while looking at some of the faces in the court, and suspecting that some of their hearts might be happy. A few of the persons present followed the king as he quitted the apartment; but such of the courtiers as assumed an independence of character, and professed a gallantry of disposition, began to approach the ladies of the court. The prince paid his compliments to Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, Buckingham devoted himself to Madame Chalais and Mademoiselle de Lafayette, whom Madame already distinguished by her notice, and whom she held in high regard. As for the Comte de Guiche, who had abandoned Monsieur as soon as he could approach Madame alone, he conversed, with great animation, with Madame de Valentinois, and with Mademoiselle de Crequy and de Chatillon.
+
+Amid these varied political, and amorous interests, Malicorne was anxious to gain Montalais’s attention; but the latter preferred talking with Raoul, even if it were only to amuse herself with his innumerable questions and his astonishment. Raoul had gone directly to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and had saluted her with the profoundest respect, at which Louise blushed, and could not say a word. Montalais, however, hurried to her assistance.
+
+“Well, monsieur le vicomte, here we are, you see.”
+
+“I do, indeed, see you,” said Raoul smiling, “and it is exactly because you are here that I wish to ask for some explanation.”
+
+Malicorne approached the group with his most fascinating smile.
+
+“Go away, Malicorne; really you are exceedingly indiscreet.” At this remark Malicorne bit his lips and retired a few steps, without making any reply. His smile, however, changed its expression, and from its former frankness, became mocking in its expression.
+
+“You wished for an explanation, M. Raoul?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“It is surely worth one, I think; Mademoiselle de la Valliere is a maid of honor to Madame!”
+
+“Why should she not be a maid of honor, as well as myself?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“Pray accept my compliments, young ladies,” said Raoul, who fancied he perceived they were not disposed to answer him in a direct manner.
+
+“Your remark was not made in a very complimentary manner, vicomte.”
+
+“Mine?”
+
+“Certainly; I appeal to Louise.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne probably thinks the position is above my condition,” said Louise, hesitatingly.
+
+“Assuredly not,” replied Raoul, eagerly, “you know very well that such is not my feeling; were you called upon to occupy a queen’s throne, I should not be surprised; how much greater reason, then, such a position as this? The only circumstance that amazes me is, that I should have learned it only to-day, and that by the merest accident.”
+
+“That is true,” replied Montalais, with her usual giddiness; “you know nothing about it, and there is no reason you should. M. de Bragelonne had written several letters to you, but your mother was the only person who remained behind at Blois, and it was necessary to prevent these letters from falling into her hands; I intercepted them, and returned them to M. Raoul, so that he believed you were still at Blois while you were here in Paris, and had no idea whatever, indeed, how high you had risen in rank.”
+
+“Did you not inform M. Raoul, as I begged you to do?”
+
+“Why should I? to give him opportunity of making some of his severe remarks and moral reflections, and to undo what we have had so much trouble in effecting? Certainly not.”
+
+“Am I so very severe, then?” said Raoul, inquiringly.
+
+“Besides,” said Montalais, “it is sufficient to say that it suited me. I was about setting off for Paris -- you were away; Louise was weeping her eyes out; interpret that as you please; I begged a friend, a protector of mine, who had obtained the appointment for me, to solicit one for Louise; the appointment arrived. Louise left in order to get her costume prepared; as I had my own ready, I remained behind; I received your letters, and returned them to you, adding a few words, promising you a surprise. Your surprise is before you, monsieur, and seems to be a fair one enough; you have nothing more to ask. Come, M. Malicorne, it is now time to leave these young people together: they have many things to talk about; give me your hand; I trust that you appreciate the honor conferred upon you, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Forgive me,” said Raoul, arresting the giddy girl, and giving to his voice an intonation, the gravity of which contrasted with that of Montalais; “forgive me, but may I inquire the name of the protector you speak of; for if protection be extended towards you, Mademoiselle de Montalais, -- for which, indeed, so many reasons exist,” added Raoul, bowing, “I do not see that the same reasons exist why Mademoiselle de la Valliere should be similarly cared for.”
+
+“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, innocently, “there is no difference in the matter, and I do not see why I should not tell it you myself; it was M. Malicorne who obtained it for me.”
+
+Raoul remained for a moment almost stupefied, asking himself if they were trifling with him; he then turned round to interrogate Malicorne, but he had been hurried away by Montalais, and was already at some distance from them. Mademoiselle de la Valliere attempted to follow her friend, but Raoul, with gentle authority, detained her.
+
+“Louise, one word, I beg.”
+
+“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, blushing, “we are alone. Every one has left. They will become anxious, and will be looking for us.”
+
+“Fear nothing,” said the young man, smiling, “we are neither of us of sufficient importance for our absence to be remarked.”
+
+“But I have my duty to perform, M. Raoul.”
+
+“Do not be alarmed, I am acquainted with these usages of the court; you will not be on duty until to-morrow; a few minutes are at your disposal, which will enable you to give me the information I am about to have the honor to ask you for.”
+
+“How serious you are, M. Raoul!” said Louise.
+
+“Because the circumstances are serious. Are you listening?”
+
+“I am listening; I would only repeat, monsieur, that we are quite alone.”
+
+“You are right,” said Raoul, and, offering her his hand, he led the young girl into the gallery adjoining the reception-room, the windows of which looked out upon the courtyard. Every one hurried towards the middle window, which had a balcony outside, from which all the details of the slow and formal preparations for departure could be seen. Raoul opened one of the side windows, and then, being alone with Louise, said to her: “You know, Louise, that from my childhood I have regarded you as my sister, as one who has been the confidante of all my troubles, to whom I have entrusted all my hopes.”
+
+“Yes, M. Raoul,” she answered softly; “yes, M. Raoul, I know that.”
+
+“You used, on your side, to show the same friendship towards me, and had the same confidence in me; why have you not, on this occasion, been my friend, -- why have you shown suspicion of me?”
+
+Mademoiselle de la Valliere did not answer. “I fondly thought you loved me,” said Raoul, whose voice became more and more agitated; “I fondly thought you consented to all the plans we had, together, laid down for our own happiness, at the time when we wandered up and down the walks of Cour-Cheverny, under the avenue of poplar trees leading to Blois. You do not answer me, Louise. Is it possible,” he inquired, breathing with difficulty, “that you no longer love me?”
+
+“I did not say so,” replied Louise, softly.
+
+“Oh! tell me the truth, I implore you. All my hopes in life are centered in you. I chose you for your gentle and simple tastes. Do not suffer yourself to be dazzled, Louise, now that you are in the midst of a court where all that is pure too soon becomes corrupt -- where all that is young too soon grows old. Louise, close your ears, so as not to hear what may be said; shut your eyes, so as not to see the examples before you; shut your lips, that you may not inhale the corrupting influences about you. Without falsehood or subterfuge, Louise, am I to believe what Mademoiselle de Montalais stated? Louise, did you come to Paris because I was no longer at Blois?”
+
+La Valliere blushed and concealed her face in her hands.
+
+“Yes, it was so, then!” exclaimed Raoul, delightedly; “that was, then, your reason for coming here. I love you as I never yet loved you. Thanks, Louise, for this devotion; but measures must be taken to place you beyond all insult, to shield you from every lure. Louise, a maid of honor, in the court of a young princess in these days of free manners and inconstant affections -- a maid of honor is placed as an object of attack without having any means of defence afforded her; this state of things cannot continue; you must be married in order to be respected.”
+
+“Married?”
+
+“Yes, here is my hand, Louise; will you place yours within it?”
+
+“But your father?”
+
+“My father leaves me perfectly free.”
+
+“Yet -- ”
+
+“I understand your scruples, Louise; I will consult my father.”
+
+“Reflect, M. Raoul; wait.”
+
+“Wait! it is impossible. Reflect, Louise, when you are concerned! it would be insulting, -- give me your hand, dear Louise; I am my own master. My father will consent, I know; give me your hand, do not keep me waiting thus. One word in answer, one word only; if not, I shall begin to think that, in order to change you forever, nothing more was needed than a single step in the palace, a single breath of favor, a smile from the queen, a look from the king.”
+
+Raoul had no sooner pronounced this latter word, than La Valliere became as pale as death, no doubt from fear at seeing the young man excite himself. With a movement as rapid as thought, she placed both her hands in those of Raoul, and then fled, without adding a syllable; disappearing without casting a look behind her. Raoul felt his whole frame tremble at the contact of her hand; he received the compact as a solemn bargain wrung by affection from her child-like timidity.
+
+Chapter XV. The Consent of Athos.
+
+Raoul quitted the Palais Royal full of ideas that admitted no delay in execution. He mounted his horse in the courtyard, and followed the road to Blois, while the marriage festivities of Monsieur and the princess of England were being celebrated with exceeding animation by the courtiers, but to the despair of De Guiche and Buckingham. Raoul lost no time on the road, and in sixteen hours he arrived at Blois. As he traveled along, he marshaled his arguments in the most becoming manner. Fever is an argument that cannot be answered, and Raoul had an attack. Athos was in his study, making additions to his memoirs, when Raoul entered, accompanied by Grimaud. Keen-sighted and penetrating, a mere glance at his son told him that something extraordinary had befallen him.
+
+“You seem to come on a matter of importance,” said he to Raoul, after he had embraced him, pointing to a seat.
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” replied the young man; “and I entreat you to give me the same kind attention that has never yet failed me.”
+
+“Speak, Raoul.”
+
+“I present the case to you, monsieur, free from all preface, for that would be unworthy of you. Mademoiselle de la Valliere is in Paris as one of Madame’s maids of honor. I have pondered deeply on the matter; I love Mademoiselle de la Valliere above everything; and it is not proper to leave her in a position where her reputation, her virtue even, may be assailed. It is my wish, therefore, to marry her, monsieur, and I have come to solicit your consent to my marriage.”
+
+While this communication was being made to him, Athos maintained the profoundest silence and reserve. Raoul, who had begun his address with an assumption of self-possession, finished it by allowing a manifest emotion to escape him at every word. Athos fixed upon Bragelonne a searching look, overshadowed indeed by a slight sadness.
+
+“You have reflected well upon it?” he inquired.
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“I believe you are already acquainted with my views respecting this alliance?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” replied Raoul, in a low tone of voice; “but you added, that if I persisted -- ”
+
+“You do persist, then?”
+
+Raoul stammered out an almost unintelligible assent.
+
+“Your passion,” continued Athos, tranquilly, “must indeed be very great, since, notwithstanding my dislike to this union, you persist in wanting it.”
+
+Raoul passed his hand trembling across his forehead to remove the perspiration that collected there. Athos looked at him, and his heart was touched by pity. He rose and said, -- 
+
+“It is no matter. My own personal feelings are not to be taken into consideration since yours are concerned; I am ready to give it. Tell me what you want.”
+
+“Your kind indulgence, first of all, monsieur,” said Raoul, taking hold of his hand.
+
+“You have mistaken my feelings, Raoul, I have more than mere indulgence for you in my heart.”
+
+Raoul kissed as devotedly as a lover could have done the hand he held in his own.
+
+“Come, come,” said Athos, “I am quite ready; what do you wish me to sign?”
+
+“Nothing whatever, monsieur, only it would be very kind if you would take the trouble to write to the king, to whom I belong, and solicit his majesty’s permission for me to marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Well thought, Raoul! After, or rather before myself, you have a master to consult, that master being the king; it is loyal in you to submit yourself voluntarily to this double proof; I will grant your request without delay, Raoul.”
+
+The count approached the window, and leaning out, called to Grimaud, who showed his head from an arbor covered with jasmine, which he was occupied in trimming.
+
+“My horses, Grimaud,” continued the count.
+
+“Why this order, monsieur?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“We shall set off in a few hours.”
+
+“Whither?”
+
+“For Paris.”
+
+“Paris, monsieur?”
+
+“Is not the king at Paris?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Well, ought we not to go there?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur,” said Raoul, almost alarmed by this kind condescension. “I do not ask you to put yourself to such inconvenience, and a letter merely -- ”
+
+“You mistake my position, Raoul; it is not respectful that a simple gentleman, such as I am, should write to his sovereign. I wish to speak, I ought to speak, to the king, and I will do so. We will go together, Raoul.”
+
+“You overpower me with your kindness, monsieur.”
+
+“How do you think his majesty is affected?”
+
+“Towards me, monsieur?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Excellently well disposed.”
+
+“You know that to be so?” continued the count.
+
+“The king has himself told me so.”
+
+“On what occasion?”
+
+“Upon the recommendation of M. d’Artagnan, I believe, and on account of an affair in the Place de Greve, when I had the honor to draw my sword in the king’s service. I have reason to believe that, vanity apart, I stand well with his majesty.”
+
+“So much the better.”
+
+“But I entreat you, monsieur,” pursued Raoul, “not to maintain towards me your present grave and serious manner. Do not make me bitterly regret having listened to a feeling stronger than anything else.”
+
+“That is the second time you have said so, Raoul; it was quite unnecessary; you require my formal consent, and you have it. We need talk no more on the subject, therefore. Come and see my new plantations, Raoul.”
+
+The young man knew very well, that, after the expression of his father’s wish, no opportunity of discussion was left him. He bowed his head, and followed his father into the garden. Athos slowly pointed out to him the grafts, the cuttings, and the avenues he was planting. This perfect repose of manner disconcerted Raoul extremely; the affection with which his own heart was filled seemed so great that the whole world could hardly contain it. How, then, could his father’s heart remain void, and closed to its influence? Bragelonne, therefore, collecting all his courage, suddenly exclaimed, -- 
+
+“It is impossible, monsieur, you can have any reason to reject Mademoiselle de la Valliere! In Heaven’s name, she is so good, so gentle and pure, that your mind, so perfect in its penetration, ought to appreciate her accordingly. Does any secret repugnance, or any hereditary dislike, exist between you and her family?”
+
+“Look, Raoul, at that beautiful lily of the valley,” said Athos; “observe how the shade and the damp situation suit it, particularly the shadow which that sycamore-tree casts over it, so that the warmth, and not the blazing heat of the sun, filters through its leaves.”
+
+Raoul stopped, bit his lips, and then, with the blood mantling in his face, he said, courageously, -- “One word of explanation, I beg, monsieur. You cannot forget that your son is a man.”
+
+“In that case,” replied Athos, drawing himself up with sternness, “prove to me that you are a man, for you do not show yourself a son. I begged you to wait the opportunity of forming an illustrious alliance. I would have obtained a wife for you from the first ranks of the rich nobility. I wish you to be distinguished by the splendor which glory and fortune confer, for nobility of descent you have already.”
+
+“Monsieur,” exclaimed Raoul, carried away by a first impulse. “I was reproached the other day for not knowing who my mother was.”
+
+Athos turned pale; then, knitting his brows like the greatest of all the heathen deities: -- “I am waiting to learn the reply you made,” he demanded, in an imperious manner.
+
+“Forgive me! oh, forgive me,” murmured the young man, sinking at once from the lofty tone he had assumed.
+
+“What was your reply, monsieur?” inquired the count, stamping his feet upon the ground.
+
+“Monsieur, my sword was in my hand immediately, my adversary placed himself on guard, I struck his sword over the palisade, and threw him after it.”
+
+“Why did you suffer him to live?”
+
+“The king has prohibited duelling, and, at the moment, I was an ambassador of the king.”
+
+“Very well,” said Athos, “but all the greater reason I should see his majesty.”
+
+“What do you intend to ask him?”
+
+“Authority to draw my sword against the man who has inflicted this injury upon me.”
+
+“If I did not act as I ought to have done, I beg you to forgive me.”
+
+“Did I reproach you, Raoul?”
+
+“Still, the permission you are going to ask from the king?”
+
+“I will implore his majesty to sign your marriage-contract, but on one condition.”
+
+“Are conditions necessary with me, monsieur? Command, and you shall be obeyed.”
+
+“On the condition, I repeat,” continued Athos; “that you tell me the name of the man who spoke of your mother in that way.”
+
+“What need is there that you should know his name; the offense was directed against myself, and the permission once obtained from his majesty, to revenge it is my affair.”
+
+“Tell me his name, monsieur.”
+
+“I will not allow you to expose yourself.”
+
+“Do you take me for a Don Diego? His name, I say.”
+
+“You insist upon it?”
+
+“I demand it.”
+
+“The Vicomte de Wardes.”
+
+“Very well,” said Athos, tranquilly, “I know him. But our horses are ready, I see; and, instead of delaying our departure for a couple of hours, we will set off at once. Come, monsieur.”
+
+Chapter XVI. Monsieur Becomes Jealous of the Duke of Buckingham.
+
+While the Comte de la Fere was proceeding on his way to Pairs, accompanied by Raoul, the Palais Royal was the theatre wherein a scene of what Moliere would have called excellent comedy, was being performed. Four days had elapsed since his marriage, and Monsieur, having breakfasted very hurriedly, passed into his ante-chamber, frowning and out of temper. The repast had not been over-agreeable. Madame had had breakfast served in her own apartment, and Monsieur had breakfasted almost alone; the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp were the only persons present at the meal, which lasted three-quarters of an hour without a single syllable having been uttered. Manicamp, who was less intimate with his royal highness than the Chevalier de Lorraine, vainly endeavored to detect, from the expression of the prince’s face, what had made him so ill-humored. The Chevalier de Lorraine, who had no occasion to speculate about anything, inasmuch as he knew all, ate his breakfast with that extraordinary appetite which the troubles of one’s friends but stimulates, and enjoyed at the same time both Monsieur’s ill-humor and the vexation of Manicamp. He seemed delighted, while he went on eating, to detain a prince, who was very impatient to move, still at table. Monsieur at times repented the ascendency which he had permitted the Chevalier de Lorraine to acquire over him, and which exempted the latter from any observance of etiquette towards him. Monsieur was now in one of those moods, but he dreaded as much as he liked the chevalier, and contented himself with nursing his anger without betraying it. Every now and then Monsieur raised his eyes to the ceiling, then lowered them towards the slices of pate which the chevalier was attacking, and finally, not caring to betray the resentment, he gesticulated in a manner which Harlequin might have envied. At last, however, Monsieur could control himself no longer, and at the dessert, rising from the table in excessive wrath, as we have related, he left the Chevalier de Lorraine to finish his breakfast as he pleased. Seeing Monsieur rise from the table, Manicamp, napkin in hand, rose also. Monsieur ran rather than walked, towards the ante-chamber, where, noticing an usher in attendance, he gave him some directions in a low tone of voice. Then, turning back again, but avoiding passing through the breakfast apartment, he crossed several rooms, with the intention of seeking the queen-mother in her oratory, where she usually remained.
+
+It was about ten o’clock in the morning. Anne of Austria was engaged in writing as Monsieur entered. The queen-mother was extremely attached to her son, for he was handsome in person and amiable in disposition. He was, in fact, more affectionate, and it might be, more effeminate than the king. He pleased his mother by those trifling sympathizing attentions all women are glad to receive. Anne of Austria, who would have been rejoiced to have had a daughter, almost found in this, her favorite son, the attentions, solicitude, and playful manners of a child of twelve years of age. All the time he passed with his mother he employed in admiring her arms, in giving his opinion upon her cosmetics, and recipes for compounding essences, in which she was very particular; and then, too, he kissed her hands and cheeks in the most childlike and endearing manner, and had always some sweetmeats to offer her, or some new style of dress to recommend. Anne of Austria loved the king, or rather the regal power in her eldest son; Louis XIV. represented legitimacy by right divine. With the king, her character was that of the queen-mother, with Philip she was simply the mother. The latter knew that, of all places, a mother’s heart is the most compassionate and surest. When quite a child he always fled there for refuge when he and his brother quarreled, often, after having struck him, which constituted the crime of high treason on his part, after certain engagements with hands and nails, in which the king and his rebellious subject indulged in their night-dresses respecting the right to a disputed bed, having their servant Laporte as umpire, -- Philip, conqueror, but terrified at victory, used to flee to his mother to obtain reinforcements from her, or at least the assurance of forgiveness, which Louis XIV. granted with difficulty, and after an interval. Anne, from this habit of peaceable intervention, succeeded in arranging the disputes of her sons, and in sharing, at the same time, all their secrets. The king, somewhat jealous of that maternal solicitude which was bestowed particularly on his brother, felt disposed to show towards Anne of Austria more submission and attachment than his character really dictated. Anne of Austria had adopted this line of conduct especially towards the young queen. In this manner she ruled with almost despotic sway over the royal household, and she was already preparing her batteries to govern with the same absolute authority the household of her second son. Anne experienced almost a feeling of pride whenever she saw any one enter her apartment with woe-begone looks, pale cheeks, or red eyes, gathering from appearances that assistance was required either by the weakest or the most rebellious. She was writing, we have said, when Monsieur entered her oratory, not with red eyes or pale cheeks, but restless, out of temper, and annoyed. With an absent air he kissed his mother’s hands, and sat himself down before receiving her permission to do so. Considering the strict rules of etiquette established at the court of Anne of Austria, this forgetfulness of customary civilities was a sign of preoccupation, especially on Philip’s part, who, of his own accord, observed a respect towards her of a somewhat exaggerated character. If, therefore, he so notoriously failed in this regard, there must be a serious cause for it.
+
+“What is the matter, Philip?” inquired Anne of Austria, turning towards her son.
+
+“A good many things,” murmured the prince, in a doleful tone of voice.
+
+“You look like a man who has a great deal to do,” said the queen, laying down her pen. Philip frowned, but did not reply. “Among the various subjects which occupy your mind,” said Anne of Austria, “there must surely be one that absorbs it more than others.”
+
+“One has indeed occupied me more than any other.”
+
+“Well, what is it? I am listening.”
+
+Philip opened his mouth as if to express all the troubles his mind was filled with, and which he seemed to be waiting only for an opportunity of declaring. But he suddenly became silent, and a sigh alone expressed all that his heart was overflowing with.
+
+“Come, Philip, show a little firmness,” said the queen-mother. “When one has to complain of anything, it is generally an individual who is the cause of it. Am I not right?”
+
+“I do not say no, madame.”
+
+“Whom do you wish to speak about? Come, take courage.”
+
+“In fact, madame, what I might possibly have to say must be kept a profound secret; for when a lady is in the case -- ”
+
+“Ah! you are speaking of Madame, then?” inquired the queen-mother, with a feeling of the liveliest curiosity.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, then, if you wish to speak of Madame, do not hesitate to do so. I am your mother, and she is no more than a stranger to me. Yet, as she is my daughter-in-law, rest assured I shall be interested, even were it for your own sake alone, in hearing all you may have to say about her.”
+
+“Pray tell me, madame, in your turn, whether you have not remarked something?”
+
+“‘Something’! Philip? Your words almost frighten me, from their want of meaning. What do you mean by ‘something?’”
+
+“Madame is pretty, certainly.”
+
+“No doubt of it.”
+
+“Yet not altogether beautiful.”
+
+“No, but as she grows older, she will probably become strikingly beautiful. You must have remarked the change which a few years have already made in her. Her beauty will improve more and more; she is now only sixteen years of age. At fifteen I was, myself, very thin; but even as she is at present, Madame is very pretty.”
+
+“And consequently others have remarked it.”
+
+“Undoubtedly, for a woman of ordinary rank is noticed -- and with still greater reason a princess.”
+
+“She has been well brought up, I suppose?”
+
+“Madame Henriette, her mother, is a woman somewhat cold in manner, slightly pretentious, but full of noble thoughts. The princess’s education may have been neglected, but her principles, I believe, are good. Such at least was the opinion I formed of her when she resided in France; but she afterwards returned to England, and I am ignorant what may have occurred there.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Simply that there are some heads naturally giddy, which are easily turned by prosperity.”
+
+“That is the very word, madame. I think the princess rather giddy.”
+
+“We must not exaggerate, Philip; she is clever and witty, and has a certain amount of coquetry very natural in a young woman; but this defect in persons of high rank and position, is a great advantage at a court. A princess who is tinged with coquetry usually forms a brilliant court; her smile stimulates luxury, arouses wit, and even courage; the nobles, too, fight better for a prince whose wife is beautiful.”
+
+“Thank you extremely, madame,” said Philip, with some temper; “you really have drawn some very alarming pictures for me.”
+
+“In what respect?” asked the queen, with pretended simplicity.
+
+“You know, madame,” said Philip, dolefully, “whether I had or had not a very great dislike to getting married.”
+
+“Now, indeed, you alarm me. You have some serious cause of complaint against Madame.”
+
+“I do not precisely say it is serious.”
+
+“In that case, then, throw aside your doleful looks. If you show yourself to others in your present state, people will take you for a very unhappy husband.”
+
+“The fact is,” replied Philip, “I am not altogether satisfied as a husband, and I shall not be sorry if others know it.”
+
+“For shame, Philip.”
+
+“Well, then, madame, I will tell you frankly that I do not understand the life I am required to lead.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“My wife does not seem to belong to me; she is always leaving me for some reason or another. In the mornings there are visits, correspondences, and toilettes; in the evenings, balls and concerts.”
+
+“You are jealous, Philip.”
+
+“I! Heaven forbid. Let others act the part of a jealous husband, not I. But I am annoyed.”
+
+“All these things you reproach your wife with are perfectly innocent, and, so long as you have nothing of greater importance -- ”
+
+“Yet, listen; without being very blamable, a woman can excite a good deal of uneasiness. Certain visitors may be received, certain preferences shown, which expose young women to remark, and which are enough to drive out of their senses even those husbands who are least disposed to be jealous.”
+
+“Ah! now we are coming to the real point at last, and not without some difficulty. You speak of frequent visits, and certain preferences -- very good; for the last hour we have been beating about the bush, and at last you have broached the true question.”
+
+“Well then, yes -- ”
+
+“This is more serious than I thought. It is possible, then, that Madame can have given you grounds for these complaints against her?”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“What, your wife, married only four days ago, prefers some other person to yourself? Take care, Philip, you exaggerate your grievances; in wishing to prove everything, you prove nothing.”
+
+The prince, bewildered by his mother’s serious manner, wished to reply, but he could only stammer out some unintelligible words.
+
+“You draw back, then?” said Anne of Austria. “I prefer that, as it is an acknowledgement of your mistake.”
+
+“No!” exclaimed Philip, “I do not draw back, and I will prove all I asserted. I spoke of preference and of visits, did I not? Well, listen.”
+
+Anne of Austria prepared herself to listen, with that love of gossip which the best woman living and the best mother, were she a queen even, always finds in being mixed up with the petty squabbles of a household.
+
+“Well,” said Philip, “tell me one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Why does my wife retain an English court about her?” said Philip, as he crossed his arms and looked his mother steadily in the face, as if he were convinced that she could not answer the question.
+
+“For a very simple reason,” returned Anne of Austria; “because the English are her countrymen, because they have expended large sums in order to accompany her to France, and because it would hardly be polite -- not politic, certainly -- to dismiss abruptly those members of the English nobility who have not shrunk from any devotion or sacrifice.”
+
+“A wonderful sacrifice indeed,” returned Philip, “to desert a wretched country to come to a beautiful one, where a greater effect can be produced for a guinea that can be procured elsewhere for four! Extraordinary devotion, really, to travel a hundred leagues in company with a woman one is in love with!”
+
+“In love, Philip! think what you are saying. Who is in love with Madame?”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham. Perhaps you will defend him, too?”
+
+Anne of Austria blushed and smiled at the same time. The name of the Duke of Buckingham recalled certain recollections of a very tender and melancholy nature. “The Duke of Buckingham?” she murmured.
+
+“Yes; one of those arm-chair soldiers -- ”
+
+“The Buckinghams are loyal and brave,” said Anne of Austria, courageously.
+
+“This is too bad; my own mother takes the part of my wife’s lover against me,” exclaimed Philip, incensed to such an extent that his weak organization was affected almost to tears.
+
+“Philip, my son,” exclaimed Anne of Austria, “such an expression is unworthy of you. Your wife has no lover; and, had she one, it would not be the Duke of Buckingham. The members of that family, I repeat, are loyal and discreet, and the rights of hospitality are sure to be respected by them.”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham is an Englishman, madame,” said Philip, “and may I ask if the English so very religiously respect what belongs to princes of France?”
+
+Anne blushed a second time, and turned aside under the pretext of taking her pen from her desk again, but in reality to conceal her confusion from her son. “Really, Philip,” she said, “you seem to discover expressions for the purpose of embarrassing me, and your anger blinds you while it alarms me; reflect a little.”
+
+“There is no need for reflection, madame. I can see with my own eyes.”
+
+“Well, and what do you see?”
+
+“That Buckingham never quits my wife. He presumes to make presents to her, and she ventures to accept them. Yesterday she was talking about sauchets a la violette; well, our French perfumers, you know very well, madame, for you have over and over again asked for it without success -- our French perfumers, I say, have never been able to procure this scent. The duke, however, wore about him a sachet a la violette, and I am sure that the one my wife has came from him.”
+
+“Indeed, monsieur,” said Anne of Austria, “you build your pyramids on needle points; be careful. What harm, I ask you, can there be in a man giving to his countrywoman a recipe for a new essence? These strange ideas, I protest, painfully recall your father to me; he who so frequently and so unjustly made me suffer.”
+
+“The Duke of Buckingham’s father was probably more reserved and more respectful than his son,” said Philip, thoughtlessly, not perceiving how deeply he had wounded his mother’s feelings. The queen turned pale, and pressed her clenched hands upon her bosom; but, recovering herself immediately, she said, “You came here with some intention or another, I suppose?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“What was it?”
+
+“I came, madame, intending to complain energetically, and to inform you that I will not submit to such behavior from the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“What do you intend to do, then?”
+
+“I shall complain to the king.”
+
+“And what do you expect the king to reply?”
+
+“Very well, then,” said Monsieur, with an expression of stern determination on his countenance, which offered a singular contrast to its usual gentleness. “Very well. I will right myself!”
+
+“What do you call righting yourself?” inquired Anne of Austria, in alarm.
+
+“I will have the Duke of Buckingham quit the princess, I will have him quit France, and I will see that my wishes are intimated to him.”
+
+“You will intimate nothing of the kind, Philip,” said the queen, “for if you act in that manner, and violate hospitality to that extent, I will invoke the severity of the king against you.”
+
+“Do you threaten me, madame?” exclaimed Philip, almost in tears; “do you threaten me in the midst of my complaints?”
+
+“I do not threaten you; I do but place an obstacle in the path of your hasty anger. I maintain, that, to adopt towards the Duke of Buckingham, or any other Englishman, any rigorous measure -- to take even a discourteous step towards him, would be to plunge France and England into the most disastrous disagreement. Can it be possible that a prince of the blood, the brother of the king of France, does not know how to hide an injury, even did it exist in reality, where political necessity requires it?” Philip made a movement. “Besides,” continued the queen, “the injury is neither true nor possible, and it is merely a matter of silly jealousy.”
+
+“Madame, I know what I know.”
+
+“Whatever you may know, I can only advise you to be patient.”
+
+“I am not patient by disposition, madame.”
+
+The queen rose, full of severity, and with an icy ceremonious manner. “Explain what you really require, monsieur,” she said.
+
+“I do not require anything, madame; I simply express what I desire. If the Duke of Buckingham does not, of his own accord, discontinue his visits to my apartments I shall forbid him entrance.”
+
+“That is a point you will refer to the king,” said Anne of Austria, her heart swelling as she spoke, and her voice trembling with emotion.
+
+“But, madame,” exclaimed Philip, striking his hands together, “act as my mother and not as the queen, since I speak to you as a son; it is simply a matter of a few minutes’ conversation between the duke and myself.”
+
+“It is that very conversation I forbid,” said the queen, resuming her authority, “because it is unworthy of you.”
+
+“Be it so; I will not appear in the matter, but I shall intimate my will to Madame.”
+
+“Oh!” said the queen-mother, with a melancholy arising from reflection, “never tyrannize over a wife -- never behave too haughtily or imperiously towards your own. A woman unwillingly convinced, is unconvinced.”
+
+“What is to be done, then? -- I will consult my friends about it.”
+
+“Yes, your double-dealing advisers, your Chevalier de Lorraine -- your De Wardes. Intrust the conduct of this affair to me. You wish the Duke of Buckingham to leave, do you not?”
+
+“As soon as possible, madame.”
+
+“Send the duke to me, then; smile upon your wife, behave to her, to the king, to every one, as usual. But follow no advice but mine. Alas! I too well know what any household comes to, that is troubled by advisers.”
+
+“You shall be obeyed, madame.”
+
+“And you will be satisfied at the result. Send the duke to me.”
+
+“That will not be difficult.”
+
+“Where do you suppose him to be?”
+
+“At my wife’s door, whose levee he is probably awaiting.”
+
+“Very well,” said Anne of Austria, calmly. “Be good enough to tell the duke that I shall be charmed if he will pay me a visit.”
+
+Philip kissed his mother’s hand, and started off to find the Duke of Buckingham.
+
+Chapter XVII. Forever!
+
+The Duke of Buckingham, obedient to the queen-mother’s invitation, presented himself in her apartments half an hour after the departure of the Duc d’Orleans. When his name was announced by the gentleman-usher in attendance, the queen, who was sitting with her elbow resting on a table, and her head buried in her hands, rose, and smilingly received the graceful and respectful salutation which the duke addressed to her. Anne of Austria was still beautiful. It is well known that at her then somewhat advanced age, her long auburn hair, perfectly formed hands, and bright ruby lips, were still the admiration of all who saw her. On the present occasion, abandoned entirely to a remembrance which evoked all the past in her heart, she looked almost as beautiful as in the days of her youth, when her palace was open to the visits of the Duke of Buckingham’s father, then a young and impassioned man, as well as an unfortunate prince, who lived for her alone, and died with her name upon his lips. Anne of Austria fixed upon Buckingham a look so tender in its expression, that it denoted, not alone the indulgence of maternal affection, but a gentleness of expression like the coquetry of a woman who loves.
+
+“Your majesty,” said Buckingham, respectfully, “desired to speak to me.”
+
+“Yes, duke,” said the queen, in English; “will you be good enough to sit down?”
+
+The favor which Anne of Austria thus extended to the young man, and the welcome sound of the language of a country from which the duke had been estranged since his stay in France, deeply affected him. He immediately conjectured that the queen had a request to make of him. After having abandoned the first few moments to the irrepressible emotions she experienced, the queen resumed the smiling air with which she had received him. “What do you think of France?” she said, in French.
+
+“It is a lovely country, madame,” replied the duke.
+
+“Had you ever seen it before?”
+
+“Once only, madame.”
+
+“But, like all true Englishmen, you prefer England?”
+
+“I prefer my own native land to France,” replied the duke; “but if your majesty were to ask me which of the two cities, London or Pairs, I should prefer as a residence, I should be forced to answer Paris.”
+
+Anne of Austria observed the ardent manner with which these words had been pronounced. “I am told, my lord, you have rich possessions in your own country, and that you live in a splendid and time-honored place.”
+
+“It was my father’s residence,” replied Buckingham, casting down his eyes.
+
+“Those are indeed great advantages and souvenirs,” replied the queen, alluding, in spite of herself, to recollections from which it is impossible voluntarily to detach one’s self.
+
+“In fact,” said the duke, yielding to the melancholy influence of this opening conversation, “sensitive persons live as much in the past or the future, as in the present.”
+
+“That is very true,” said the queen, in a low tone of voice. “It follows, then, my lord,” she added, “that you, who are a man of feeling, will soon quit France in order to shut yourself up with your wealth and your relics of the past.”
+
+Buckingham raised his head and said, “I think not, madame.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“On the contrary, I think of leaving England in order to take up my residence in France.”
+
+It was now Anne of Austria’s turn to exhibit surprise. “Why?” she said. “Are you not in favor with the new king?”
+
+“Perfectly so, madame, for his majesty’s kindness to me is unbounded.”
+
+“It cannot,” said the queen, “be because your fortune has diminished, for it is said to be enormous.”
+
+“My income, madame, has never been so large.”
+
+“There is some secret cause, then?”
+
+“No, madame,” said Buckingham, eagerly, “there is nothing secret in my reason for this determination. I prefer residence in France; I like a court so distinguished by its refinement and courtesy; I like the amusements, somewhat serious in their nature, which are not the amusements of my own country, and which are met with in France.”
+
+Anne of Austria smiled shrewdly. “Amusements of a serious nature?” she said. “Has your Grace well reflected on their seriousness?” The duke hesitated. “There is no amusement so serious,” continued the queen, “as to prevent a man of your rank -- ”
+
+“Your majesty seems to insist greatly on that point,” interrupted the duke.
+
+“Do you think so, my lord?”
+
+“If you will forgive me for saying so, it is the second time you have vaunted the attractions of England at the expense of the delight which all experience who live in France.”
+
+Anne of Austria approached the young man, and placing her beautiful hand upon his shoulder, which trembled at the touch, said, “Believe me, monsieur, nothing can equal a residence in one’s own native country. I have very frequently had occasion to regret Spain. I have lived long, my lord, very long for a woman, and I confess to you, that not a year has passed I have not regretted Spain.”
+
+“Not one year, madame?” said the young duke coldly. “Not one of those years when you reigned Queen of Beauty -- as you still are, indeed?”
+
+“A truce to flattery, duke, for I am old enough to be your mother.” She emphasized these latter words in a manner, and with a gentleness, which penetrated Buckingham’s heart. “Yes,” she said, “I am old enough to be your mother; and for this reason, I will give you a word of advice.”
+
+“That advice being that I should return to London?” he exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+The duke clasped his hands with a terrified gesture, which could not fail of its effect upon the queen, already disposed to softer feelings by the tenderness of her own recollections. “It must be so,” added the queen.
+
+“What!” he again exclaimed, “am I seriously told that I must leave, -- that I must exile myself, -- that I am to flee at once?”
+
+“Exile yourself, did you say? One would fancy France was your native country.”
+
+“Madame, the country of those who love is the country of those whom they love.”
+
+“Not another word, my lord; you forget whom you are addressing.”
+
+Buckingham threw himself on his knees. “Madame, you are the source of intelligence, of goodness, and of compassion; you are the first person in this kingdom, not only by your rank, but the first person in the world on account of your angelic attributes. I have said nothing, madame. Have I, indeed, said anything you should answer with such a cruel remark? What have I betrayed?”
+
+“You have betrayed yourself,” said the queen, in a low tone of voice.
+
+“I have said nothing, -- I know nothing.”
+
+“You forget you have spoken and thought in the presence of a woman; and besides -- ”
+
+“Besides,” said the duke, “no one knows you are listening to me.”
+
+“On the contrary, it is known; you have all the defects and all the qualities of youth.”
+
+“I have been betrayed or denounced, then?”
+
+“By whom?”
+
+“By those who, at Le Havre, had, with infernal perspicacity, read my heart like an open book.”
+
+“I do not know whom you mean.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne, for instance.”
+
+“I know the name without being acquainted with the person to whom it belongs. M. de Bragelonne has said nothing.”
+
+“Who can it be, then? If any one, madame, had had the boldness to notice in me that which I do not myself wish to behold -- ”
+
+“What would you do, duke?”
+
+“There are secrets which kill those who discover them.”
+
+“He, then, who has discovered your secret, madman that you are, still lives; and, what is more, you will not slay him, for he is armed on all sides, -- he is a husband, a jealous man, -- he is the second gentleman in France, -- he is my son, the Duc du Orleans.”
+
+The duke turned pale as death. “You are very cruel, madame,” he said.
+
+“You see, Buckingham,” said Anne of Austria, sadly, “how you pass from one extreme to another, and fight with shadows, when it would seem so easy to remain at peace with yourself.”
+
+“If we fight, madame, we die on the field of battle,” replied the young man, gently, abandoning himself to the most gloomy depression.
+
+Anne ran towards him and took him by the hand. “Villiers,” she said, in English, with a vehemence of tone which nothing could resist, “what is it you ask? Do you ask a mother to sacrifice her son, -- a queen to consent to the dishonor of her house? Child that you are, do not dream of it. What! in order to spare your tears am I to commit these crimes? Villiers! you speak of the dead; the dead, at least, were full of respect and submission; they resigned themselves to an order of exile; they carried their despair away with them in their hearts, like a priceless possession, because the despair was caused by the woman they loved, and because death, thus deceptive, was like a gift of a favor conferred upon them.”
+
+Buckingham rose, his features distorted, and his hands pressed against his heart. “You are right, madame,” he said, “but those of whom you speak had received their order of exile from the lips of the one whom they loved; they were not driven away; they were entreated to leave, and were not laughed at.”
+
+“No,” murmured Anne of Austria, “they were not forgotten. But who says you are driven away, or that you are exiled? Who says that your devotion will not be remembered? I do not speak on any one’s behalf but my own, when I tell you to leave. Do me this kindness, -- grant me this favor; let me, for this also, be indebted to one of your name.”
+
+“It is for your sake, then, madame?”
+
+“For mine alone.”
+
+“No one whom I shall leave behind me will venture to mock, -- no prince even who shall say, ‘I required it.’”
+
+“Listen to me, duke,” and hereupon the dignified features of the queen assumed a solemn expression. “I swear to you that no one commands in this matter but myself. I swear to you that, not only shall no one either laugh or boast in any way, but no one even shall fail in the respect due to your rank. Rely upon me, duke, as I rely upon you.”
+
+“You do not explain yourself, madame; my heart is full of bitterness, and I am in utter despair; no consolation, however gentle and affectionate, can afford me relief.”
+
+“Do you remember your mother, duke?” replied the queen, with a winning smile.
+
+“Very slightly, madame; yet I remember how she used to cover me with her caresses and her tears whenever I wept.”
+
+“Villiers,” murmured the queen, passing her arm round the young man’s neck, “look upon me as your mother, and believe that no one shall ever make my son weep.”
+
+“I thank you, madame,” said the young man affected and almost suffocated by his emotion; “I feel there is still room in my heart for a gentler and nobler sentiment than love.”
+
+The queen-mother looked at him and pressed his hand. “Go,” she said.
+
+“When must I leave? Command me.”
+
+“At any time that may suit you, my lord,” resumed the queen; “you will choose your own day of departure. Instead, however, of setting off to-day, as you would doubtless wish to do, or to-morrow, as others may have expected, leave the day after to-morrow, in the evening; but announce to-day that it is your wish to leave.”
+
+“My wish?” murmured the young duke.
+
+“Yes, duke.”
+
+“And shall I never return to France?”
+
+Anne of Austria reflected for a moment, seemingly absorbed in sad and serious thought. “It would be a consolation for me,” she said, “if you were to return on the day when I shall be carried to my final resting-place at Saint-Dennis beside the king, my husband.”
+
+“Madame, you are goodness itself; the tide of prosperity is setting in on you; your cup brims over with happiness, and many long years are yet before you.”
+
+“In that case you will not come for some time, then,” said the queen, endeavoring to smile.
+
+“I shall not return,” said Buckingham, “young as I am. Death does not reckon by years; it is impartial; some die young, some reach old age.”
+
+“I will not harbor any sorrowful ideas, duke. Let me comfort you; return in two years. I perceive from your face that the very idea which saddens you so much now, will have disappeared before six months have passed, and will be not only dead but forgotten in the period of absence I have assigned you.”
+
+“I think you judged me better a little while ago, madame,” replied the young man, “when you said that time is powerless against members of the family of Buckingham.”
+
+“Silence,” said the queen, kissing the duke upon the forehead with an affection she could not restrain. “Go, go; spare me and forget yourself no longer. I am the queen; you are the subject of the king of England; King Charles awaits your return. Adieu, Villiers, -- farewell.”
+
+“Forever!” replied the young man, and he fled, endeavoring to master his emotions.
+
+Anne leaned her head upon her hands, and then looking at herself in the glass, murmured, “It has been truly said, that a woman who has truly loved is always young, and that the bloom of the girl of twenty years ever lies concealed in some secret cloister of the heart.” [1]
+
+Chapter XVIII. King Louis XIV. does not think Mademoiselle de la Valliere either rich enough or pretty enough for a Gentleman of the Rank of the Vicomte de Bragelonne.
+
+Raoul and the Comte de la Fere reached Paris the evening of the same day on which Buckingham had held the conversation with the queen-mother. The count had scarcely arrived, when, through Raoul, he solicited an audience of the king. His majesty had passed a portion of the morning in looking over, with madame and the ladies of the court, various goods of Lyons manufacture, of which he had made his sister-in-law a present. A court dinner had succeeded, then cards, and afterwards, according to his usual custom, the king, leaving the card-tables at eight o’clock, passed into his cabinet in order to work with M. Colbert and M. Fouquet. Raoul entered the ante-chamber at the very moment the two ministers quitted it, and the king, perceiving him through the half-closed door, said, “What do you want, M. de Bragelonne?”
+
+The young man approached: “An audience, sire,” he replied, “for the Comte de la Fere, who has just arrived from Blois, and is most anxious to have an interview with your majesty.”
+
+“I have an hour to spare between cards and supper,” said the king. “Is the Comte de la Fere at hand?”
+
+“He is below, and awaits your majesty’s permission.”
+
+“Let him come up at once,” said the king, and five minutes afterwards Athos entered the presence of Louis XIV. He was received by the king with that gracious kindness of manner which Louis, with a tact beyond his years, reserved for the purpose of gaining those who were not to be conquered by ordinary favors. “Let me hope, comte,” said the king, “that you have come to ask me for something.”
+
+“I will not conceal from your majesty,” replied the comte, “that I am indeed come for that purpose.”
+
+“That is well,” said the king, joyously.
+
+“It is not for myself, sire.”
+
+“So much the worse; but, at least, I will do for your protege what you refuse to permit me to do for you.”
+
+“Your majesty encourages me. I have come to speak on behalf of the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“It is the same as if you spoke on your own behalf, comte.”
+
+“Not altogether so, sire. I am desirous of obtaining from your majesty that which I cannot ask for myself. The vicomte thinks of marrying.”
+
+“He is still very young; but that does not matter. He is an eminently distinguished man; I will choose a wife for him.”
+
+“He has already chosen one, sire, and only awaits your consent.”
+
+“It is only a question, then, of signing the marriage-contract?” Athos bowed. “Has he chose a wife whose fortune and position accord with your own anticipation?”
+
+Athos hesitated for a moment. “His affirmed wife is of good birth, but has no fortune.”
+
+“That is a misfortune we can remedy.”
+
+“You overwhelm me with gratitude, sire; but your majesty will permit me to offer a remark?”
+
+“Do so, comte.”
+
+“Your majesty seems to intimate an intention of giving a marriage-portion to this young lady.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“I should regret, sire, if the step I have taken towards your majesty should be attended by this result.”
+
+“No false delicacy, comte; what is the bride’s name?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere,” said Athos, coldly.
+
+“I seem to know that name,” said the king, as if reflecting; “there was a Marquis de la Valliere.”
+
+“Yes, sire, it is his daughter.”
+
+“But he died, and his widow married again M. de Saint-Remy, I think, steward of the dowager Madame’s household.”
+
+“Your majesty is correctly informed.”
+
+“More than that, the young lady has lately become one of the princess’s maids of honor.”
+
+“Your majesty is better acquainted with her history than am I.”
+
+The king again reflected, and glancing at the comte’s anxious countenance, said: “The young lady does not seem to me to be very pretty, comte.”
+
+“I am not quite sure,” replied Athos.
+
+“I have seen her, but she hardly struck me as being so.”
+
+“She seems to be a good and modest girl, but has little beauty, sire.”
+
+“Beautiful fair hair, however.”
+
+“I think so.”
+
+“And her blue eyes are tolerably good.”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“With regard to her beauty, then, the match is but an ordinary one. Now for the money side of the question.”
+
+“Fifteen to twenty thousand francs dowry at the very outset, sire; the lovers are disinterested enough; for myself, I care little for money.”
+
+“For superfluity, you mean; but a needful amount is of importance. With fifteen thousand francs, without landed property, a woman cannot live at court. We will make up the deficiency; I will do it for De Bragelonne.” The king again remarked the coldness with which Athos received the remark.
+
+“Let us pass from the question of money to that of rank,” said Louis XIV.; “the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, that is well enough; but there is that excellent Saint-Remy, who somewhat damages the credit of the family; and you, comte, are rather particular, I believe, about your own family.”
+
+“Sire, I no longer hold to anything but my devotion to your majesty.”
+
+The king again paused. “A moment, comte. You have surprised me in no little degree from the beginning of your conversation. You came to ask me to authorize a marriage, and you seem greatly disturbed in having to make the request. Nay, pardon me, comte, but I am rarely deceived, young as I am; for while with some persons I place my friendship at the disposal of my understanding, with others I call my distrust to my aid, by which my discernment is increased. I repeat, that you do not prefer your request as though you wished it success.”
+
+“Well, sire, that is true.”
+
+“I do not understand you, then; refuse.”
+
+“Nay, sire; I love De Bragelonne with my whole heart; he is smitten with Mademoiselle de la Valliere, he weaves dreams of bliss for the future; I am not one who is willing to destroy the illusions of youth. This marriage is objectionable to me, but I implore your majesty to consent to it forthwith, and thus make Raoul happy.”
+
+“Tell me, comte, is she in love with him?”
+
+“If your majesty requires me to speak candidly, I do not believe in Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s affection; the delight at being at court, the honor of being in the service of Madame, counteract in her head whatever affection she may happen to have in her heart; it is a marriage similar to many others which already exist at court; but De Bragelonne wishes it, and so let it be.”
+
+“And yet you do not resemble those easy-tempered fathers who volunteer as stepping-stones for their children,” said the king.
+
+“I am determined enough against the viciously disposed, but not so against men of upright character. Raoul is suffering; he is in great distress of mind; his disposition, naturally light and cheerful, has become gloomy and melancholy. I do not wish to deprive your majesty of the services he may be able to render.”
+
+“I understand you,” said the king; “and what is more, I understand your heart, too, comte.”
+
+“There is no occasion, therefore,” replied the comte, “to tell your majesty that my object is to make these children, or rather Raoul, happy.”
+
+“And I, too, as much as yourself, comte, wish to secure M. de Bragelonne’s happiness.”
+
+“I only await your majesty’s signature. Raoul will have the honor of presenting himself before your majesty to receive your consent.”
+
+“You are mistaken, comte,” said the king, firmly; “I have just said that I desire to secure M. de Bragelonne’s happiness, and from the present moment, therefore, I oppose his marriage.”
+
+“But, sire,” exclaimed Athos, “your majesty has promised!”
+
+“Not so, comte, I did not promise you, for it is opposed to my own views.”
+
+“I appreciate your majesty’s considerate and generous intentions on my behalf; but I take the liberty of recalling to you that I undertook to approach you as an ambassador.”
+
+“An ambassador, comte, frequently asks, but does not always obtain what he asks.”
+
+“But, sire, it will be such a blow for De Bragelonne.”
+
+“My hand shall deal the blow; I will speak to the vicomte.”
+
+“Love, sire, is overwhelming in its might.”
+
+“Love can be resisted, comte. I myself can assure you of that.”
+
+“When one has the soul of a king, -- your own, for instance, sire.”
+
+“Do not make yourself uneasy on the subject. I have certain views for De Bragelonne. I do not say that he shall not marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere, but I do not wish him to marry so young; I do not wish him to marry her until she has acquired a fortune; and he, on his side, no less deserves favor, such as I wish to confer upon him. In a word, comte, I wish them to wait.”
+
+“Yet once more, sire.”
+
+“Comte, you told me you came here to request a favor.”
+
+“Assuredly, sire.”
+
+“Grant me one, then, instead; let us speak no longer upon this matter. It is probable that, before long, war may be declared. I require men about me who are unfettered. I should hesitate to send under fire a married man, or a father of a family. I should hesitate also, on De Bragelonne’s account, to endow with a fortune, without some sound reason for it, a young girl, a perfect stranger; such an act would sow jealousy amongst my nobility.” Athos bowed, and remained silent.
+
+“Is that all you wished to ask me?” added Louis XIV.
+
+“Absolutely all, sire; and I take my leave of your majesty. Is it, however, necessary that I should inform Raoul?”
+
+“Spare yourself the trouble and annoyance. Tell the vicomte that at my levee to-morrow morning I will speak to him. I shall expect you this evening, comte, to join my card-table.”
+
+“I am in traveling-costume, sire.”
+
+“A day will come, I hope, when you will leave me no more. Before long, comte, the monarchy will be established in such a manner as to enable me to offer a worthy hospitality to men of your merit.”
+
+“Provided, sire, a monarch reigns grandly in the hearts of his subjects, the palace he inhabits matters little, since he is worshipped in a temple.” With these words Athos left the cabinet, and found De Bragelonne, who was awaiting him anxiously.
+
+“Well, monsieur?” said the young man.
+
+“The king, Raoul, is well intentioned towards us both; not, perhaps, in the sense you suppose, but he is kind, and generously disposed to our house.”
+
+“You have bad news to communicate to me, monsieur,” said the young man, turning very pale.
+
+“The king himself will inform you to-morrow morning that it is not bad news.”
+
+“The king has not signed, however?”
+
+“The king wishes himself to settle the terms of the contract, and he desires to make it so grand that he requires time for consideration. Throw the blame rather on your own impatience, than on the king’s good feelings towards you.”
+
+Raoul, in utter consternation, on account of his knowledge of the count’s frankness as well as his diplomacy, remained plunged in dull and gloomy stupor.
+
+“Will you not go with me to my lodgings?” said Athos.
+
+“I beg your pardon, monsieur; I will follow you,” he stammered out, following Athos down the staircase.
+
+“Since I am here,” said Athos, suddenly, “cannot I see M. d’Artagnan?”
+
+“Shall I show you his apartments?” said De Bragelonne.
+
+“Do so.”
+
+“They are on the opposite staircase.”
+
+They altered their course, but on reaching the landing of the grand staircase, Raoul perceived a servant in the Comte de Guiche’s livery, who ran towards him as soon as he heard his voice.
+
+“What is it?” said Raoul.
+
+“This note, monsieur. My master heard of your return and wrote to you without delay; I have been looking for you for the last half-hour.”
+
+Raoul approached Athos as he unsealed the letter, saying, “With your permission, monsieur.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Dear Raoul,” wrote the Comte de Guiche, “I have an affair in hand which requires immediate attention; I know you have returned; come to me as soon as possible.”
+
+Hardly had he finished reading it, when a servant in the livery of the Duke of Buckingham, turning out of the gallery, recognized Raoul, and approached him respectfully, saying, “From his Grace, monsieur.”
+
+“Well, Raoul, as I see you are already as busy as a general of an army, I shall leave you, and will find M. d’Artagnan myself.”
+
+“You will excuse me, I trust,” said Raoul.
+
+“Yes, yes, I excuse you; adieu, Raoul; you will find me at my apartments until to-morrow; during the day I may set out for Blois, unless I have orders to the contrary.”
+
+“I shall present my respects to you to-morrow, monsieur.”
+
+As soon as Athos had left, Raoul opened Buckingham’s letter.
+
+“Monsieur de Bragelonne,” it ran, “You are, of all the Frenchmen I have known, the one with whom I am most pleased; I am about to put your friendship to the proof. I have received a certain message, written in very good French. As I am an Englishman, I am afraid of not comprehending it very clearly. The letter has a good name attached to it, and that is all I can tell you. Will you be good enough to come and see me? for I am told you have arrived from Blois.
+
+“Your devoted
+
+“VILLIERS, Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“I am going now to see your master,” said Raoul to De Guiche’s servant, as he dismissed him; “and I shall be with the Duke of Buckingham in an hour,” he added, dismissing with these words the duke’s messenger.
+
+Chapter XIX. Sword-Thrusts in the Water.
+
+Raoul, on betaking himself to De Guiche, found him conversing with De Wardes and Manicamp. De Wardes, since the affair of the barricade, had treated Raoul as a stranger; they behaved as if they were not acquainted. As Raoul entered, De Guiche walked up to him; and Raoul, as he grasped his friend’s hand, glanced rapidly at his two companions, hoping to be able to read on their faces what was passing in their minds. De Wardes was cold and impenetrable; Manicamp seemed absorbed in the contemplation of some trimming to his dress. De Guiche led Raoul to an adjoining cabinet, and made him sit down, saying, “How well you look!”
+
+“That is singular,” replied Raoul, “for I am far from being in good spirits.”
+
+“It is your case, then, Raoul, as it is my own, -- our love affairs do not progress.”
+
+“So much the better, count, as far as you are concerned; the worst news would be good news.”
+
+“In that case do not distress yourself, for, not only am I very unhappy, but, what is more, I see others about me who are happy.”
+
+“Really, I do not understand you,” replied Raoul; “explain yourself.”
+
+“You will soon learn. I have tried, but in vain, to overcome the feeling you saw dawn in me, increase, and take entire possession of me. I have summoned all your advice and my own strength to my aid. I have well weighed the unfortunate affair in which I have embarked; I have sounded its depths; that it is an abyss, I am aware, but it matters little for I shall pursue my own course.”
+
+“This is madness, De Guiche! you cannot advance another step without risking your own ruin to-day, perhaps your life to-morrow.”
+
+“Whatever may happen, I have done with reflections; listen.”
+
+“And you hope to succeed; you believe that Madame will love you?”
+
+“Raoul, I believe nothing; I hope, because hope exists in man, and never abandons him until death.”
+
+“But, admitting that you obtain the happiness you covet, even then, you are more certainly lost than if you had failed in obtaining it.”
+
+“I beseech you, Raoul, not to interrupt me any more; you could never convince me, for I tell you beforehand, I do not wish to be convinced; I have gone so far I cannot recede; I have suffered so much, death itself would be a boon. I no longer love to madness, Raoul, I am being engulfed by a whirlpool of jealousy.”
+
+Raoul struck his hands together with an expression resembling anger. “Well?” said he.
+
+“Well or ill matters little. This is what I claim from you, my friend, my almost brother. During the last three days Madame has been living in a perfect intoxication of gayety. On the first day, I dared not look at her; I hated her for not being as unhappy as myself. The next day I could not bear her out of my sight; and she, Raoul -- at least I thought I remarked it -- she looked at me, if not with pity, at least with gentleness. But between her looks and mine, a shadow intervened; another’s smile invited hers. Beside her horse another’s always gallops, which is not mine; in her ear another’s caressing voice, not mine, unceasingly vibrates. Raoul, for three days past my brain has been on fire; flame, not blood, courses through my veins. That shadow must be driven away, that smile must be quenched; that voice must be silenced.”
+
+“You wish Monsieur’s death,” exclaimed Raoul.
+
+“No, no, I am not jealous of the husband; I am jealous of the lover.”
+
+“Of the lover?” said Raoul.
+
+“Have you not observed it, you who were formerly so keen-sighted?”
+
+“Are you jealous of the Duke of Buckingham?”
+
+“To the very death.”
+
+“Again jealous?”
+
+“This time the affair will be easy to arrange between us; I have taken the initiative, and have sent him a letter.”
+
+“It was you, then, who wrote to him?”
+
+“How do you know that?”
+
+“I know it, because he told me so. Look at this;” and he handed De Guiche the letter he had received nearly at the same moment as his own. De Guiche read it eagerly, and said, “He is a brave man, and more than that, a gallant man.”
+
+“Most certainly the duke is a gallant man; I need not ask if you wrote to him in a similar style.”
+
+“He will show you my letter when you call on him on my behalf.”
+
+“But that is almost out of the question.”
+
+“What is?”
+
+“That I shall call on him for that purpose.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“The duke consults me as you do.”
+
+“I suppose you will give me the preference! Listen to me, Raoul, I wish you to tell his Grace -- it is a very simple matter -- that to-day, to-morrow, the following day, or any other day he may choose, I will meet him at Vincennes.”
+
+“Reflect, De Guiche.”
+
+“I thought I told you I have reflected.”
+
+“The duke is a stranger here; he is on a mission which renders his person inviolable.... Vincennes is close to the Bastile.”
+
+“The consequences concern me.”
+
+“But the motive for this meeting? What motive do you wish me to assign?”
+
+“Be perfectly easy on that score, he will not ask any. The duke must be as sick of me as I am of him. I implore you, therefore, seek the duke, and if it is necessary to entreat him, to accept my offer, I will do so.”
+
+“That is useless. The duke has already informed me that he wishes to speak to me. The duke is now playing cards with the king. Let us both go there. I will draw him aside in the gallery; you will remain aloof. Two words will be sufficient.”
+
+“That is well arranged. I will take De Wardes to keep me in countenance.”
+
+“Why not Manicamp? De Wardes can join us at any time; we can leave him here.”
+
+“Yes, that is true.”
+
+“He knows nothing?”
+
+“Positively nothing. You continue still on an unfriendly footing, then?”
+
+“Has he not told you anything?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“I do not like the man, and, as I never liked him, the result is, that I am on no worse terms with him to-day than I was yesterday.”
+
+“Let us go, then.”
+
+The four descended the stairs. De Guiche’s carriage was waiting at the door, and took them to the Palais Royal. As they were going along, Raoul was engaged in devising his scheme of action. The sole depositary of two secrets, he did not despair of concluding some arrangement between the two parties. He knew the influence he exercised over Buckingham, and the ascendency he had acquired over De Guiche, and affairs did not look utterly hopeless. On their arrival in the gallery, dazzling with the blaze of light, where the most beautiful and illustrious women of the court moved to and fro, like stars in their own atmosphere, Raoul could not prevent himself for a moment forgetting De Guiche in order to seek out Louise, who, amidst her companions, like a dove completely fascinated, gazed long and fixedly upon the royal circle, which glittered with jewels and gold. All its members were standing, the king alone being seated. Raoul perceived Buckingham, who was standing a few paces from Monsieur, in a group of French and English, who were admiring his aristocratic carriage and the incomparable magnificence of his costume. Some of the older courtiers remembered having seen his father, but their recollections were not prejudicial to the son.
+
+Buckingham was conversing with Fouquet, who was talking with him aloud about Belle-Isle. “I cannot speak to him at present,” said Raoul.
+
+“Wait, then, and choose your opportunity, but finish everything speedily. I am on thorns.”
+
+“See, our deliverer approaches,” said Raoul, perceiving D’Artagnan, who, magnificently dressed in his new uniform of captain of the musketeers, had just made his entry in the gallery; and he advanced towards D’Artagnan.
+
+“The Comte de la Fere has been looking for you, chevalier,” said Raoul.
+
+“Yes,” replied D’Artagnan, “I have just left him.”
+
+“I thought you would have passed a portion of the evening together.”
+
+“We have arranged to meet again.”
+
+As he answered Raoul, his absent looks were directed on all sides, as if seeking some one in the crowd or looking for something in the room. Suddenly his gaze became fixed, like that of an eagle on its prey. Raoul followed the direction of his glance, and noticed that De Guiche and D’Artagnan saluted each other, but he could not distinguish at whom the captain’s lingering and haughty glance was aimed.
+
+“Chevalier,” said Raoul, “there is no one here but yourself who can render me a service.”
+
+“What is it, my dear vicomte?”
+
+“It is simply to go and interrupt the Duke of Buckingham, to whom I wish to say two words, and, as the duke is conversing with M. Fouquet, you understand that it would not do for me to throw myself into the middle of the conversation.”
+
+“Ah, ah, is M. Fouquet there?” inquired D’Artagnan.
+
+“Do you not see him?”
+
+“Yes, now I do. But do you think I have a greater right than you have?”
+
+“You are a more important personage.”
+
+“Yes, you’re right; I am captain of the musketeers; I have had the post promised me so long, and have enjoyed it for so brief a period, that I am always forgetting my dignity.”
+
+“You will do me this service, will you not?”
+
+“M. Fouquet -- the deuce!”
+
+“Are you not on good terms with him?”
+
+“It is rather he who may not be on good terms with me; however, since it must be done some day or another -- ”
+
+“Stay; I think he is looking at you; or is it likely that it might be -- ”
+
+“No, no; don’t deceive yourself, it is indeed me for whom this honor is intended.”
+
+“The opportunity is a good one, then?”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“Pray go.”
+
+“Well, I will.”
+
+De Guiche had not removed his eyes from Raoul, who made a sign to him that all was arranged. D’Artagnan walked straight up to the group, and civilly saluted M. Fouquet as well as the others.
+
+“Good evening, M. d’Artagnan; we were speaking of Belle-Isle,” said Fouquet, with that usage of society, and that perfect knowledge of the language of looks, which require half a lifetime thoroughly to acquire, and which some persons, notwithstanding all their study, never attain.
+
+“Of Belle-Ile-en-Mer! Ah!” said D’Artagnan. “It belongs to you, I believe, M. Fouquet?”
+
+“M. Fouquet has just told us that he had presented it to the king,” said Buckingham.
+
+“Do you know Belle-Isle, chevalier?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“I have only been there once,” replied D’Artagnan, with readiness and good-humor.
+
+“Did you remain there long?”
+
+“Scarcely a day.”
+
+“Did you see much of it while you were there?”
+
+“All that could be seen in a day.”
+
+“A great deal can be seen with observation as keen as yours,” said Fouquet; at which D’Artagnan bowed.
+
+During this Raoul made a sign to Buckingham. “M. Fouquet,” said Buckingham, “I leave the captain with you, he is more learned than I am in bastions, scarps, and counter-scarps, and I will join one of my friends, who has just beckoned me.” Saying this, Buckingham disengaged himself from the group, and advanced towards Raoul, stopping for a moment at the table where the queen-mother, the young queen, and the king were playing together.
+
+“Now, Raoul,” said De Guiche, “there he is; be firm and quick.”
+
+Buckingham, having made some complimentary remark to Madame, continued his way towards Raoul, who advanced to meet him, while De Guiche remained in his place, though he followed him with his eyes. The maneuver was so arranged that the young men met in an open space which was left vacant, between the groups of players and the gallery, where they walked, stopping now and then for the purpose of saying a few words to some of the graver courtiers who were walking there. At the moment when the two lines were about to unite, they were broken by a third. It was Monsieur who advanced towards the Duke of Buckingham. Monsieur had his most engaging smile on his red and perfumed lips.
+
+“My dear duke,” said he, with the most affectionate politeness; “is it really true what I have just been told?”
+
+Buckingham turned round; he had not noticed Monsieur approach; but had merely heard his voice. He started in spite of his command over himself, and a slight pallor overspread his face. “Monseigneur,” he asked, “what has been told you that surprises you so much?”
+
+“That which throws me into despair, and will, in truth, be a real cause of mourning for the whole court.”
+
+“Your highness is very kind, for I perceive that you allude to my departure.”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+Guiche had overheard the conversation from where he was standing, and started in his turn. “His departure,” he murmured. “What does he say?”
+
+Philip continued with the same gracious air, “I can easily conceive, monsieur, why the king of Great Britain recalls you; we all know that King Charles II., who appreciates true gentlemen, cannot dispense with you. But it cannot be supposed we can let you go without great regret; and I beg you to receive the expression of my own.”
+
+“Believe me, monseigneur,” said the duke, “that if I quit the court of France -- ”
+
+“Because you are recalled; but, if you suppose the expression of my own wish on the subject might possibly have any influence with the king, I will gladly volunteer to entreat his majesty Charles II. to leave you with us a little while longer.”
+
+“I am overwhelmed, monseigneur, by so much kindness,” replied Buckingham; “but I have received positive commands. My residence in France was limited; I have prolonged it at the risk of displeasing my gracious sovereign. It is only this very day that I recollected I ought to have set off four days ago.”
+
+“Indeed,” said Monsieur.
+
+“Yes; but,” added Buckingham, raising his voice in such a manner that the princess could hear him, -- “but I resemble that dweller in the East, who turned mad, and remained so for several days, owing to a delightful dream that he had had, but who one day awoke, if not completely cured, in some respects rational at least. The court of France has its intoxicating properties, which are not unlike this dream, my lord; but at last I wake and leave it. I shall be unable, therefore, to prolong my residence, as your highness has so kindly invited me to do.”
+
+“When do you leave?” inquired Philip, with an expression full of interest.
+
+“To-morrow, monseigneur. My carriages have been ready for three days.”
+
+The Duc d’Orleans made a movement of the head, which seemed to signify, “Since you are determined, duke, there is nothing to be said.” Buckingham returned the gesture, concealing under a smile a contraction of his heart; and then Monsieur moved away in the same direction by which he had approached. At the same moment, however, De Guiche advanced from the opposite direction. Raoul feared that the impatient young man might possibly make the proposition himself, and hurried forth before him.
+
+“No, no, Raoul, all is useless now,” said Guiche, holding both his hands towards the duke, and leading him behind a column. “Forgive me, duke, for what I wrote to you, I was mad; give me back my letter.”
+
+“It is true,” said the duke, “you cannot owe me a grudge any longer now.”
+
+“Forgive me, duke; my friendship, my lasting friendship is yours.”
+
+“There is certainly no reason why you should bear me any ill-will from the moment I leave her never to see her again.”
+
+Raoul heard these words, and comprehending that his presence was now useless between the young men, who had now only friendly words to exchange, withdrew a few paces; a movement which brought him closer to De Wardes, who was conversing with the Chevalier de Lorraine respecting the departure of Buckingham. “A strategic retreat,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because the dear duke saves a sword-thrust by it.” At which reply both laughed.
+
+Raoul, indignant, turned round frowningly, flushed with anger and his lip curling with disdain. The Chevalier de Lorraine turned on his heel, but De Wardes remained and waited.
+
+“You will not break yourself of the habit,” said Raoul to De Wardes, “of insulting the absent; yesterday it was M. d’Artagnan, to-day it is the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“You know very well, monsieur,” returned De Wardes, “that I sometimes insult those who are present.”
+
+De Wardes was close to Raoul, their shoulders met, their faces approached, as if to mutually inflame each other by the fire of their looks and of their anger. It could be seen that the one was at the height of fury, the other at the end of his patience. Suddenly a voice was heard behind them full of grace and courtesy, saying, “I believe I heard my name pronounced.”
+
+They turned round and saw D’Artagnan, who, with a smiling eye and a cheerful face, had just placed his hand on De Wardes’s shoulder. Raoul stepped back to make room for the musketeer. De Wardes trembled from head to foot, turned pale, but did not move. D’Artagnan, still with the same smile, took the place which Raoul had abandoned to him.
+
+“Thank you, my dear Raoul,” he said. “M. de Wardes, I wish to talk with you. Do not leave us, Raoul; every one can hear what I have to say to M. de Wardes.” His smile immediately faded away, and his glace became cold and sharp as a sword.
+
+“I am at your orders, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
+
+“For a very long time,” resumed D’Artagnan, “I have sought an opportunity of conversing with you; to-day is the first time I have found it. The place is badly chosen, I admit, but you will perhaps have the goodness to accompany me to my apartments, which are on the staircase at the end of this gallery.”
+
+“I follow you, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
+
+“Are you alone here?” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“No; I have M. Manicamp and M. de Guiche, two of my friends.”
+
+“That’s well,” said D’Artagnan; “but two persons are not sufficient; you will be able to find a few others, I trust.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the young man, who did not know what object D’Artagnan had in view. “As many as you please.”
+
+“Are they friends?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“Real friends?”
+
+“No doubt of it.”
+
+“Very well, get a good supply, then. Do you come, too, Raoul; bring M. de Guiche and the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“What a disturbance,” replied De Wardes, attempting to smile. The captain slightly signed to him with his hand, as though to recommend him to be patient, and then led the way to his apartments. [2]
+
+Chapter XX. Sword-Thrusts in the Water (concluded).
+
+D’Artagnan’s apartment was not unoccupied; for the Comte de la Fere, seated in the recess of a window, awaited him. “Well,” said he to D’Artagnan, as he saw him enter.
+
+“Well,” said the latter, “M. de Wardes has done me the honor to pay me a visit, in company with some of his own friends, as well as of ours.” In fact, behind the musketeer appeared De Wardes and Manicamp, followed by De Guiche and Buckingham, who looked surprised, not knowing what was expected of them. Raoul was accompanied by two or three gentlemen; and, as he entered, glanced round the room, and perceiving the count, he went and placed himself by his side. D’Artagnan received his visitors with all the courtesy he was capable of; he preserved his unmoved and unconcerned look. All the persons present were men of distinction, occupying posts of honor and credit at the court. After he had apologized to each of them for any inconvenience he might have put them to, he turned towards De Wardes, who, in spite of his customary self-command, could not prevent his face betraying some surprise mingled with not a little uneasiness.
+
+“Now, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, “since we are no longer within the precincts of the king’s palace, and since we can speak out without failing in respect to propriety, I will inform you why I have taken the liberty to request you to visit me here, and why I have invited these gentlemen to be present at the same time. My friend, the Comte de la Fere, has acquainted me with the injurious reports you are spreading about myself. You have stated that you regard me as your mortal enemy, because I was, so you affirm, that of your father.”
+
+“Perfectly true, monsieur, I have said so,” replied De Wardes, whose pallid face became slightly tinged with color.
+
+“You accuse me, therefore, of a crime, or a fault, or of some mean and cowardly act. Have the goodness to state your charge against me in precise terms.”
+
+“In the presence of witnesses?”
+
+“Most certainly in the presence of witnesses; and you see I have selected them as being experienced in affairs of honor.”
+
+“You do not appreciate my delicacy, monsieur. I have accused you, it is true; but I have kept the nature of the accusation a perfect secret. I entered into no details; but have rested satisfied by expressing my hatred in the presence of those on whom a duty was almost imposed to acquaint you with it. You have not taken the discreetness I have shown into consideration, although you were interested in remaining silent. I can hardly recognize your habitual prudence in that, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+D’Artagnan, who was quietly biting the corner of his moustache, said, “I have already had the honor to beg you to state the particulars of the grievances you say you have against me.”
+
+“Aloud?”
+
+“Certainly, aloud.”
+
+“In that case, I will speak.”
+
+“Speak, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, bowing; “we are all listening to you.”
+
+“Well, monsieur, it is not a question of a personal injury towards myself, but one towards my father.”
+
+“That you have already stated.”
+
+“Yes; but there are certain subjects which are only approached with hesitation.”
+
+“If that hesitation, in your case, really does exist, I entreat you to overcome it.”
+
+“Even if it refer to a disgraceful action?”
+
+“Yes; in every and any case.”
+
+Those who were present at this scene had, at first, looked at each other with a good deal of uneasiness. They were reassured, however, when they saw that D’Artagnan manifested no emotion whatever.
+
+De Wardes still maintained the same unbroken silence. “Speak, monsieur,” said the musketeer; “you see you are keeping us waiting.”
+
+“Listen, then: -- My father loved a lady of noble birth, and this lady loved my father.” D’Artagnan and Athos exchanged looks. De Wardes continued: “M. d’Artagnan found some letters which indicated a rendezvous, substituted himself, under disguise, for the person who was expected, and took advantage of the darkness.”
+
+“That is perfectly true,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+A slight murmur was heard from those present. “Yes, I was guilty of that dishonorable action. You should have added, monsieur, since you are so impartial, that, at the period when the circumstance which you have just related happened, I was not one-and-twenty years of age.”
+
+A renewed murmur was heard, but this time of astonishment, and almost of doubt.
+
+“It was a most shameful deception, I admit,” said D’Artagnan, “and I have not waited for M. de Wardes’s reproaches to reproach myself for it, and very bitterly, too. Age has, however, made me more reasonable, and, above all, more upright; and this injury has been atoned for by a long and lasting regret. But I appeal to you, gentlemen; this affair took place in 1626, at a period, happily for yourselves, known to you by tradition only, at a period when love was not over-scrupulous, when consciences did not distill, as in the present day, poison and bitterness. We were young soldiers, always fighting, or being attacked, our swords always in our hands, or at least ready to be drawn from their sheaths. Death then always stared us in the face, war hardened us, and the cardinal pressed us sorely. I have repented of it, and more than that -- I still repent it, M. de Wardes.”
+
+“I can well understand that, monsieur, for the action itself needed repentance; but you were not the less the cause of that lady’s disgrace. She, of whom you have been speaking, covered with shame, borne down by the affront you brought upon her, fled, quitted France, and no one ever knew what became of her.”
+
+“Stay,” said the Comte de la Fere, stretching his hand towards De Wardes, with a peculiar smile upon his face, “you are mistaken; she was seen; and there are persons even now present, who, having often heard her spoken of, will easily recognize her by the description I am about to give. She was about five-and-twenty years of age, slender in form, of a pale complexion, and fair-haired; she was married in England.”
+
+“Married?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“So, you were not aware she was married? You see we are far better informed than yourself. Do you happen to know she was usually styled ‘My Lady,’ without the addition of any name to that description?”
+
+“Yes, I know that.”
+
+“Good Heavens!” murmured Buckingham.
+
+“Very well, monsieur. That woman, who came from England, returned to England after having thrice attempted M. d’Artagnan’s life. That was but just, you will say, since M. d’Artagnan had insulted her. But that which was not just was, that, when in England, this woman, by her seductions, completely enslaved a young man in the service of Lord de Winter, by name Felton. You change color, my lord,” said Athos, turning to the Duke of Buckingham, “and your eyes kindle with anger and sorrow. Let your Grace finish the recital, then, and tell M. de Wardes who this woman was who placed the knife in the hand of your father’s murderer.”
+
+A cry escaped from the lips of all present. The young duke passed his handkerchief across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. A dead silence ensued among the spectators.
+
+“You see, M. de Wardes,” said D’Artagnan, whom this recital had impressed more and more, as his own recollection revived as Athos spoke, “you see that my crime did not cause the destruction of any one’s soul, and that the soul in question may fairly be considered to have been altogether lost before my regret. It is, however, an act of conscience on my part. Now this matter is settled, therefore, it remains for me to ask, with the greatest humility, your forgiveness for this shameless action, as most certainly I should have asked it of your father, if he were still alive, and if I had met him after my return to France, subsequent to the death of King Charles I.”
+
+“That is too much, M. d’Artagnan,” exclaimed many voices, with animation.
+
+“No, gentlemen,” said the captain. “And now, M. de Wardes, I hope all is finished between us, and that you will have no further occasion to speak ill of me again. Do you consider it completely settled?”
+
+De Wardes bowed, and muttered to himself inarticulately.
+
+“I trust also,” said D’Artagnan, approaching the young man closely, “that you will no longer speak ill of any one, as it seems you have the unfortunate habit of doing; for a man so puritanically conscientious as you are, who can reproach an old soldier for a youthful freak five-and-thirty years after it happened, will allow me to ask whether you, who advocate such excessive purity of conscience, will undertake on your side to do nothing contrary either to conscience or the principle of honor. And now, listen attentively to what I am going to say, M. de Wardes, in conclusion. Take care that no tale, with which your name may be associated, reaches my ear.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said De Wardes, “it is useless threatening to no purpose.”
+
+“I have not yet finished, M. de Wardes, and you must listen to me still further.” The circle of listeners, full of eager curiosity, drew closer. “You spoke just now of the honor of a woman, and of the honor of your father. We were glad to hear you speak in that manner; for it is pleasing to think that such a sentiment of delicacy and rectitude, and which did not exist, it seems, in our minds, lives in our children; and it is delightful, too, to see a young man, at an age when men from habit become the destroyers of the honor of women, respect and defend it.”
+
+De Wardes bit his lip and clenched his hands, evidently much disturbed to learn how this discourse, the commencement of which was announced in so threatening a manner, would terminate.
+
+“How did it happen, then, that you allowed yourself to say to M. de Bragelonne that he did not know who his mother was?”
+
+Raoul’s eyes flashed, as, darting forward, he exclaimed, -- “Chevalier, this is a personal affair of my own!” At which exclamation, a smile, full of malice, passed across De Wardes’s face.
+
+D’Artagnan put Raoul aside, saying, -- “Do not interrupt me, young man.” And looking at De Wardes in an authoritative manner, he continued: -- “I am now dealing with a matter which cannot be settled by means of the sword. I discuss it before men of honor, all of whom have more than once had their swords in their hands in affairs of honor. I selected them expressly. These gentlemen well know that every secret for which men fight ceases to be a secret. I again put my question to M. de Wardes. What was the subject of conversation when you offended this young man, in offending his father and mother at the same time?”
+
+“It seems to me,” returned De Wardes, “that liberty of speech is allowed, when it is supported by every means which a man of courage has at his disposal.”
+
+“Tell me what the means are by which a man of courage can sustain a slanderous expression.”
+
+“The sword.”
+
+“You fail, not only in logic, in your argument, but in religion and honor. You expose the lives of many others, without referring to your own, which seems to be full of hazard. Besides, fashions pass away, monsieur, and the fashion of duelling has passed away, without referring in any way to the edicts of his majesty which forbid it. Therefore, in order to be consistent with your own chivalrous notions, you will at once apologize to M. de Bragelonne; you will tell him how much you regret having spoken so lightly, and that the nobility and purity of his race are inscribed, not in his heart alone, but still more in every action of his life. You will do and say this, M. de Wardes, as I, an old officer, did and said just now to your boy’s moustache.”
+
+“And if I refuse?” inquired De Wardes.
+
+“In that case the result will be -- ”
+
+“That which you think you will prevent,” said De Wardes, laughing; “the result will be that your conciliatory address will end in a violation of the king’s prohibition.”
+
+“Not so,” said the captain, “you are quite mistaken.”
+
+“What will be the result, then?”
+
+“The result will be that I shall go to the king, with whom I am on tolerably good terms, to whom I have been happy enough to render certain services, dating from a period when you were not born, and who, at my request, has just sent me an order in blank for M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun, governor of the Bastile; and I shall say to the king: ‘Sire, a man has in a most cowardly way insulted M. de Bragelonne by insulting his mother; I have written this man’s name upon the lettre de cachet which your majesty has been kind enough to give me, so that M. de Wardes is in the Bastile for three years.” And D’Artagnan, drawing the order signed by the king from his pocket, held it towards De Wardes.
+
+Remarking that the young man was not quite convinced, and received the warning as an idle threat, he shrugged his shoulders and walked leisurely towards the table, upon which lay a writing-case and a pen, the length of which would have terrified the topographical Porthos. De Wardes then saw that nothing could well be more seriously intended than the threat in question, for the Bastile, even at that period, was already held in dread. He advanced a step towards Raoul, and, in an almost unintelligible voice, said, -- “I offer my apologies in the terms which M. d’Artagnan just now dictated, and which I am forced to make to you.”
+
+“One moment, monsieur,” said the musketeer, with the greatest tranquillity, “you mistake the terms of the apology. I did not say, ‘and which I am forced to make’; I said, ‘and which my conscience induces me to make.’ This latter expression, believe me, is better than the former; and it will be far preferable, since it will be the most truthful expression of your own sentiments.”
+
+“I subscribe to it,” said De Wardes; “but submit, gentlemen, that a thrust of the sword through the body, as was the custom formerly, was far better than tyranny like this.”
+
+“No, monsieur,” replied Buckingham; “for the sword-thrust, when received, was no indication that a particular person was right or wrong; it only showed that he was more or less skillful in the use of the weapon.”
+
+“Monsieur!” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“There, now,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “you are going to say something very rude, and I am rendering a service by stopping you in time.”
+
+“Is that all, monsieur?” inquired De Wardes.
+
+“Absolutely everything,” replied D’Artagnan; “and these gentlemen, as well as myself, are quite satisfied with you.”
+
+“Believe me, monsieur, that your reconciliations are not successful.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Because, as we are now about to separate, I would wager that M. de Bragelonne and myself are greater enemies than ever.”
+
+“You are deceived, monsieur, as far as I am concerned,” returned Raoul; “for I do not retain the slightest animosity in my heart against you.”
+
+This last blow overwhelmed De Wardes. He cast his eyes around him like a man bewildered. D’Artagnan saluted most courteously the gentlemen who had been present at the explanation; and every one, on leaving the room, shook hands with him; but not one hand was held out towards De Wardes. “Oh!” exclaimed the young man, “can I not find some one on whom to wreak my vengeance?”
+
+“You can, monsieur, for I am here,” whispered a voice full of menace in his ear.
+
+De Wardes turned round, and saw the Duke of Buckingham, who, having probably remained behind with that intention, had just approached him. “You, monsieur?” exclaimed De Wardes.
+
+“Yes, I! I am no subject of the king of France; I am not going to remain on the territory, since I am about setting off for England. I have accumulated in my heart such a mass of despair and rage, that I, too, like yourself, need to revenge myself upon some one. I approve M. d’Artagnan’s principles profoundly, but I am not bound to apply them to you. I am an Englishman, and, in my turn, I propose to you what you proposed to others to no purpose. Since you, therefore, are so terribly incensed, take me as a remedy. In thirty-four hours’ time I shall be at Calais. Come with me; the journey will appear shorter if together, than if alone. We will fight, when we get there, upon the sands which are covered by the rising tide, and which form part of the French territory during six hours of the day, but belong to the territory of Heaven during the other six.”
+
+“I accept willingly,” said De Wardes.
+
+“I assure you,” said the duke, “that if you kill me, you will be rendering me an infinite service.”
+
+“I will do my utmost to make myself agreeable to you, duke,” said De Wardes.
+
+“It is agreed, then, that I carry you off with me?”
+
+“I shall be at your commands. I needed some real danger and some mortal risk to run, to tranquilize me.”
+
+“In that case, I think you have met with what you are looking for. Farewell, M. de Wardes; to-morrow morning, my valet will tell you the exact hour of our departure; we can travel together like two excellent friends. I generally travel as fast as I can. Adieu.”
+
+Buckingham saluted De Wardes, and returned towards the king’s apartments; De Wardes, irritated beyond measure, left the Palais Royal, and hurried through the streets homeward to the house where he lodged.
+
+Chapter XXI. Baisemeaux de Montlezun.
+
+After the austere lesson administered to De Wardes, Athos and D’Artagnan together descended the staircase which led to the courtyard of the Palais Royal. “You perceive,” said Athos to D’Artagnan, “that Raoul cannot, sooner or later, avoid a duel with De Wardes, for De Wardes is as brave as he is vicious and wicked.”
+
+“I know such fellows well,” replied D’Artagnan; “I had an affair with the father. I assure you that, although at that time I had good muscles and a sort of brute courage -- I assure you that the father did me some mischief. But you should have seen how I fought it out with him. Ah, Athos, such encounters never take place in these times! I had a hand which could never remain at rest, a hand like quicksilver, -- you knew its quality, for you have seen me at work. My sword was no longer than a piece of steel; it was a serpent that assumed every form and every length, seeking where it might thrust its head; in other words, where it might fix its bite. I advanced half a dozen paces, then three, and then, body to body, I pressed my antagonist closely, then I darted back again ten paces. No human power could resist that ferocious ardor. Well, De Wardes the father, with the bravery of his race, with his dogged courage, occupied a good deal of my time; and my fingers, at the end of the engagement, were, I well remember, tired enough.”
+
+“It is, then, as I said,” resumed Athos, “the son will always be looking out for Raoul, and will end by meeting him; and Raoul can easily be found when he is sought for.”
+
+“Agreed; but Raoul calculates well; he bears no grudge against De Wardes, -- he has said so; he will wait until he is provoked, and in that case his position is a good one. The king will not be able to get out of temper about the matter; besides we shall know how to pacify his majesty. But why so full of these fears and anxieties? You don’t easily get alarmed.”
+
+“I will tell you what makes me anxious; Raoul is to see the king to-morrow, when his majesty will inform him of his wishes respecting a certain marriage. Raoul, loving as he does, will get out of temper, and once in an angry mood, if he were to meet De Wardes, the shell would explode.”
+
+“We will prevent the explosion.”
+
+“Not I,” said Athos, “for I must return to Blois. All this gilded elegance of the court, all these intrigues, sicken me. I am no longer a young man who can make terms with the meanness of the day. I have read in the Great Book many things too beautiful and too comprehensive to longer take any interest in the trifling phrases which these men whisper among themselves when they wish to deceive others. In one word, I am weary of Paris wherever and whenever you are not with me; and as I cannot have you with me always, I wish to return to Blois.”
+
+“How wrong you are, Athos; how you gainsay your origin and the destiny of your noble nature. Men of your stamp are created to continue, to the very last moment, in full possession of their great faculties. Look at my sword, a Spanish blade, the one I wore at La Rochelle; it served me for thirty years without fail; one day in the winter it fell upon the marble floor on the Louvre and was broken. I had a hunting-knife made of it which will last a hundred years yet. You, Athos, with your loyalty, your frankness, your cool courage, and your sound information, are the very man kings need to warn and direct them. Remain here; Monsieur Fouquet will not last as long as my Spanish blade.”
+
+“Is it possible,” said Athos, smiling, “that my friend, D’Artagnan, who, after having raised me to the skies, making me an object of worship, casts me down from the top of Olympus, and hurls me to the ground? I have more exalted ambition, D’Artagnan. To be a minister -- to be a slave, -- never! Am I not still greater? I am nothing. I remember having heard you occasionally call me ‘the great Athos’; I defy you, therefore, if I were minister, to continue to bestow that title upon me. No, no; I do not yield myself in this manner.”
+
+“We will not speak of it any more, then; renounce everything, even the brotherly feeling which unites us.”
+
+“It is almost cruel what you say.”
+
+D’Artagnan pressed Athos’s hand warmly. “No, no; renounce everything without fear. Raoul can get on without you. I am at Paris.”
+
+“In that case I shall return to Blois. We will take leave of each other to-night; to-morrow at daybreak I shall be on my horse again.”
+
+“You cannot return to your hotel alone; why did you not bring Grimaud with you?”
+
+“Grimaud takes his rest now; he goes to bed early, for my poor old servant gets easily fatigued. He came from Blois with me, and I compelled him to remain within doors; for if, in retracing the forty leagues which separate us from Blois, he needed to draw breath even, he would die without a murmur. But I don’t want to lose Grimaud.”
+
+“You shall have one of my musketeers to carry a torch for you. Hola! some one there,” called out D’Artagnan, leaning over the gilded balustrade. The heads of seven or eight musketeers appeared. “I wish some gentleman, who is so disposed, to escort the Comte de la Fere,” cried D’Artagnan.
+
+“Thank you for your readiness, gentlemen,” said Athos; “I regret to have occasion to trouble you in this manner.”
+
+“I would willingly escort the Comte de la Fere,” said some one, “if I had not to speak to Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Who is that?” said D’Artagnan, looking into the darkness.
+
+“I, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Heaven forgive me, if that is not Monsieur Baisemeaux’s voice.”
+
+“It is, monsieur.”
+
+“What are you doing in the courtyard, my dear Baisemeaux?”
+
+“I am waiting your orders, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
+
+“Wretch that I am,” thought D’Artagnan; “true, you have been told, I suppose, that some one was to be arrested, and have come yourself, instead of sending an officer?”
+
+“I came because I had occasion to speak to you.”
+
+“You did not send to me?”
+
+“I waited until you were disengaged,” said Monsieur Baisemeaux, timidly.
+
+“I leave you, D’Artagnan,” said Athos.
+
+“Not before I have present Monsieur Baisemeaux de Montlezun, the governor of the Bastile.”
+
+Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other.
+
+“Surely you must know each other,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux,” said Athos.
+
+“You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king’s guardsman with whom we used formerly to have such delightful meetings in the cardinal’s time?”
+
+“Perfectly,” said Athos, taking leave of him with affability.
+
+“Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose nom de guerre was Athos,” whispered D’Artagnan to Baisemeaux.
+
+“Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four.”
+
+“Precisely so. But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?”
+
+“If you please.”
+
+“In the first place, as for the orders -- there are none. The king does not intend to arrest the person in question.
+
+“So much the worse,” said Baisemeaux with a sigh.
+
+“What do you mean by so much the worse?” exclaimed D’Artagnan, laughing.
+
+“No doubt of it,” returned the governor, “my prisoners are my income.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light.”
+
+“And so there are no orders,” repeated Baisemeaux with a sigh. “What an admirable situation yours is, captain,” he continued, after a pause; “captain-lieutenant of the musketeers.”
+
+“Oh, it is good enough; but I don’t see why you should envy me; you, governor of the Bastile, the first castle in France.”
+
+“I am well aware of that,” said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful tone of voice.
+
+“You say that like a man confessing his sins. I would willingly exchange my profits for yours.”
+
+“Don’t speak of profits to me, if you wish to save me the bitterest anguish of mind.”
+
+“Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as if you were afraid of being arrested yourself, you whose business it is to arrest others?”
+
+“I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to us; it would be safer to confer more in private, if you would grant me such a favor.”
+
+“Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five and thirty years’ standing. Don’t assume such sanctified airs; make yourself quite comfortable; I don’t eat governors of the Bastile raw.”
+
+“Heaven be praised!”
+
+“Come into the courtyard with me; it’s a beautiful moonlit night; we will walk up and down, arm in arm, under the trees, while you tell me your pitiful tale.” He drew the doleful governor into the courtyard, took him by the arm as he had said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried: “Out with it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?”
+
+“It’s a long story.”
+
+“You prefer your own lamentations, then; my opinion is, it will be longer than ever. I’ll wager you are making fifty thousand francs out of your pigeons in the Bastile.”
+
+“Would to heaven that were the case, M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“You surprise me, Baisemeaux; just look at you, acting the anchorite. I should like to show you your face in a glass, and you would see how plump and florid-looking you are, as fat and round as a cheese, with eyes like lighted coals; and if it were not for that ugly wrinkle you try to cultivate on your forehead, you would hardly look fifty years old, and you are sixty, if I am not mistaken.”
+
+“All quite true.”
+
+“Of course I knew it was true, as true as the fifty thousand francs profit you make;” at which remark Baisemeaux stamped on the ground.
+
+“Well, well,” said D’Artagnan, “I will add up your accounts for you: you were captain of M. Mazarin’s guards; and twelve thousand francs a year would in twelve years amount to one hundred and forty thousand francs.”
+
+“Twelve thousand francs! Are you mad?” cried Baisemeaux; “the old miser gave me no more than six thousand, and the expenses of the post amounted to six thousand five hundred francs. M. Colbert, who deducted the other six thousand francs, condescended to allow me to take fifty thousand francs as a gratification; so that, if it were not for my little estate at Montlezun, which brings me in twelve thousand francs a year, I could not have met my engagements.”
+
+“Well, then, how about the fifty thousand francs from the Bastile? There, I trust, you are boarded and lodged, and get your six thousand francs salary besides.”
+
+“Admitted!”
+
+“Whether the year be good or bad, there are fifty prisoners, who, on the average, bring you in a thousand francs a year each.”
+
+“I don’t deny it.”
+
+“Well, there is at once an income of fifty thousand francs; you have held the post three years, and must have received in that time one hundred and fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“You forget one circumstance, dear M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“That while you received your appointment as captain from the king himself, I received mine as governor from Messieurs Tremblay and Louviere.”
+
+“Quite right, and Tremblay was not a man to let you have the post for nothing.”
+
+“Nor Louviere either: the result was, that I gave seventy-five thousand francs to Tremblay as his share.”
+
+“Very agreeable that! and to Louviere?”
+
+“The very same.”
+
+“Money down?”
+
+“No: that would have been impossible. The king did not wish, or rather M. Mazarin did not wish, to have the appearance of removing those two gentlemen, who had sprung from the barricades; he permitted them, therefore, to make certain extravagant conditions for their retirement.”
+
+“What were those conditions?”
+
+“Tremble... three years’ income for the good-will.”
+
+“The deuce! so that the one hundred and fifty thousand francs have passed into their hands.”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“And beyond that?”
+
+“A sum of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, or fifteen thousand pistoles, whichever you please, in three payments.”
+
+“Exorbitant.”
+
+“Yes, but that is not all.”
+
+“What besides?”
+
+“In default of the fulfillment by me of any one of those conditions, those gentlemen enter upon their functions again. The king has been induced to sign that.”
+
+“It is monstrous, incredible!”
+
+“Such is the fact, however.”
+
+“I do indeed pity you, Baisemeaux. But why, in the name of fortune, did M. Mazarin grant you this pretended favor? It would have been far better to have refused you altogether.”
+
+“Certainly, but he was strongly persuaded to do so by my protector.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“One of your own friends, indeed; M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“M. d’Herblay! Aramis!”
+
+“Just so; he has been very kind towards me.”
+
+“Kind! to make you enter into such a bargain!”
+
+“Listen! I wished to leave the cardinal’s service. M. d’Herblay spoke on my behalf to Louviere and Tremblay -- they objected; I wished to have the appointment very much, for I knew what it could be made to produce; in my distress I confided in M. d’Herblay, and he offered to become my surety for the different payments.”
+
+“You astound me! Aramis became your surety?”
+
+“Like a man of honor; he procured the signature; Tremblay and Louviere resigned their appointments; I have paid every year twenty-five thousand francs to these two gentlemen; on the thirty-first of May, every year, M. d’Herblay himself comes to the Bastile, and brings me five thousand pistoles to distribute between my crocodiles.”
+
+“You owe Aramis one hundred and fifty thousand francs, then?”
+
+“That is the very thing which is the cause of my despair, for I only owe him one hundred thousand.”
+
+“I don’t quite understand you.”
+
+“He came and settled with the vampires only two years. To-day, however, is the thirty-first of May, and he has not been yet, and to-morrow, at midday, the payment falls due; if, therefore, I don’t pay to-morrow, those gentlemen can, by the terms of the contract, break off the bargain; I shall be stripped of everything; I shall have worked for three years, and given two hundred and fifty thousand francs for nothing, absolutely for nothing at all, dear M. d’Artagnan.”
+
+“This is very strange,” murmured D’Artagnan.
+
+“You can now imagine that I may well have wrinkles on my forehead, can you not?”
+
+“Yes, indeed!”
+
+“And you can imagine, too, that notwithstanding I may be as round as a cheese, with a complexion like an apple, and my eyes like coals on fire, I may almost be afraid that I shall not have a cheese or an apple left me to eat, and that my eyes will be left me only to weep with.”
+
+“It is really a very grievous affair.”
+
+“I have come to you, M. d’Artagnan, for you are the only man who can get me out of my trouble.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“You are acquainted with the Abbe d’Herblay, and you know that he is a somewhat mysterious gentleman.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, you can, perhaps, give me the address of his presbytery, for I have been to Noisy-le-Sec, and he is no longer there.”
+
+“I should think not, indeed. He is Bishop of Vannes.”
+
+“What! Vannes in Bretagne?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+The little man began to tear his hair, saying, “How can I get to Vannes from here by midday to-morrow? I am a lost man.”
+
+“Your despair quite distresses me.”
+
+“Vannes, Vannes!” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“But listen; a bishop is not always a resident. M. d’Herblay may not possibly be so far away as you fear.”
+
+“Pray tell me his address.”
+
+“I really don’t know it.”
+
+“In that case I am lost. I will go and throw myself at the king’s feet.”
+
+“But, Baisemeaux, I can hardly believe what you tell me; besides, since the Bastile is capable of producing fifty thousand francs a year, why have you not tried to screw one hundred thousand out of it?”
+
+“Because I am an honest man, M. d’Artagnan, and because my prisoners are fed like ambassadors.”
+
+“Well, you’re in a fair way to get out of your difficulties; give yourself a good attack of indigestion with your excellent living, and put yourself out of the way between this and midday to-morrow.”
+
+“How can you be hard-hearted enough to laugh?”
+
+“Nay, you really afflict me. Come, Baisemeaux, if you can pledge me your word of honor, do so, that you will not open your lips to any one about what I am going to say to you.”
+
+“Never, never!”
+
+“You wish to put your hands on Aramis?”
+
+“At any cost!”
+
+“Well, go and see where M. Fouquet is.”
+
+“Why, what connection can there be -- ”
+
+“How stupid you are! Don’t you know that Vannes is in the diocese of Belle-Isle, or Belle-Isle in the diocese of Vannes? Belle-Isle belongs to M. Fouquet, and M. Fouquet nominated M. d’Herblay to that bishopric!”
+
+“I see, I see; you restore me to life again.”
+
+“So much the better. Go and tell M. Fouquet very simply that you wish to speak to M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“Of course, of course,” exclaimed Baisemeaux, delightedly.
+
+“But,” said D’Artagnan, checking him by a severe look, “your word of honor?”
+
+“I give you my sacred word of honor,” replied the little man, about to set off running.
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To M. Fouquet’s house.”
+
+“It is useless doing that; M. Fouquet is playing at cards with the king. All you can do is to pay M. Fouquet a visit early to-morrow morning.”
+
+“I will do so. Thank you.”
+
+“Good luck attend you,” said D’Artagnan.
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“This is a strange affair,” murmured D’Artagnan, as he slowly ascended the staircase after he had left Baisemeaux. “What possible interest can Aramis have in obliging Baisemeaux in this manner? Well, I suppose we shall learn some day or another.”
+
+Chapter XXII. The King’s Card-Table.
+
+Fouquet was present, as D’Artagnan had said, at the king’s card-table. It seemed as if Buckingham’s departure had shed a balm on the lacerated hearts of the previous evening. Monsieur, radiant with delight, made a thousand affectionate signs to his mother. The Count de Guiche could not separate himself from Buckingham, and while playing, conversed with him upon the circumstance of his projected voyage. Buckingham, thoughtful, and kind in his manner, like a man who has adopted a resolution, listened to the count, and from time to time cast a look full of regret and hopeless affection at Madame. The princess, in the midst of her elation of spirits, divided her attention between the king, who was playing with her, Monsieur, who quietly joked her about her enormous winnings, and De Guiche, who exhibited an extravagant delight. Of Buckingham she took but little notice; for her, this fugitive, this exile, was now simply a remembrance, no longer a man. Light hearts are thus constituted; while they themselves continue untouched, they roughly break off with every one who may possibly interfere with their little calculations of self comfort. Madame had received Buckingham’s smiles and attentions and sighs while he was present; but what was the good of sighing, smiling, and kneeling at a distance? Can one tell in what direction the winds in the Channel, which toss mighty vessels to and fro, carry such sighs as these? The duke could not fail to mark this change, and his heart was cruelly hurt. Of a sensitive character, proud and susceptible of deep attachment, he cursed the day on which such a passion had entered his heart. The looks he cast, from time to time at Madame, became colder by degrees at the chilling complexion of his thoughts. He could hardly yet despair, but he was strong enough to impose silence upon the tumultuous outcries of his heart. In exact proportion, however, as Madame suspected this change of feeling, she redoubled her activity to regain the ray of light she was about to lose; her timid and indecisive mind was displayed in brilliant flashes of wit and humor. At any cost she felt that she must be remarked above everything and every one, even above the king himself. And she was so, for the queens, notwithstanding their dignity, and the king, despite the respect which etiquette required, were all eclipsed by her. The queens, stately and ceremonious, were softened and could not restrain their laughter. Madame Henriette, the queen-mother, was dazzled by the brilliancy which cast distinction upon her family, thanks to the wit of the grand-daughter of Henry IV. The king, jealous, as a young man and as a monarch, of the superiority of those who surrounded him, could not resist admitting himself vanquished by a petulance so thoroughly French in its nature, whose energy more than ever increased by English humor. Like a child, he was captivated by her radiant beauty, which her wit made still more dazzling. Madame’s eyes flashed like lightning. Wit and humor escaped from her scarlet lips like persuasion from the lips of Nestor of old. The whole court, subdued by her enchanting grace, noticed for the first time that laughter could be indulged in before the greatest monarch in the world, like people who merited their appellation of the wittiest and most polished people in Europe.
+
+Madame, from that evening, achieved and enjoyed a success capable of bewildering all not born to those altitudes termed thrones; which, in spite of their elevation, are sheltered from such giddiness. From that very moment Louis XIV. acknowledged Madame as a person to be recognized. Buckingham regarded her as a coquette deserving the cruelest tortures, and De Guiche looked upon her as a divinity; the courtiers as a star whose light might some day become the focus of all favor and power. And yet Louis XIV., a few years previously, had not even condescended to offer his hand to that “ugly girl” for a ballet; and Buckingham had worshipped this coquette “on both knees.” De Guiche had once looked upon this divinity as a mere woman; and the courtiers had not dared to extol this star in her upward progress, fearful to disgust the monarch whom such a dull star had formerly displeased.
+
+Let us see what was taking place during this memorable evening at the king’s card-table. The young queen, although Spanish by birth, and the niece of Anne of Austria, loved the king, and could not conceal her affection. Anne of Austria, a keen observer, like all women, and imperious, like every queen, was sensible of Madame’s power, and acquiesced in it immediately, a circumstance which induced the young queen to raise the siege and retire to her apartments. The king hardly paid any attention to her departure, notwithstanding the pretended symptoms of indisposition by which it was accompanied. Encouraged by the rules of etiquette, which he had begun to introduce at the court as an element of every relation of life, Louis XIV. did not disturb himself; he offered his hand to Madame without looking at Monsieur his brother, and led the young princess to the door of her apartments. It was remarked, that at the threshold of the door, his majesty, freed from every restraint, or not equal to the situation, sighed very deeply. The ladies present -- nothing escapes a woman’s glance -- Mademoiselle Montalais, for instance -- did not fail to say to each other, “the king sighed,” and “Madame sighed too.” This had been indeed the case. Madame had sighed very noiselessly, but with an accompaniment very far more dangerous for the king’s repose. Madame had sighed, first closing her beautiful black eyes, next opening them, and then, laden, as they were, with an indescribable mournfulness of expression, she had raised them towards the king, whose face at that moment visibly heightened in color. The consequence of these blushes, of those interchanged sighs, and of this royal agitation, was, that Montalais had committed an indiscretion which had certainly affected her companion, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, less clear sighted, perhaps, turned pale when the king blushed; and her attendance being required upon Madame, she tremblingly followed the princess without thinking of taking the gloves, which court etiquette required her to do. True it is that the young country girl might allege as her excuse the agitation into which the king seemed to be thrown, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, busily engaged in closing the door, had involuntarily fixed her eyes upon the king, who, as he retired backwards, had his face towards it. The king returned to the room where the card-tables were set out. He wished to speak to the different persons there, but it was easy to see that his mind was absent. He jumbled different accounts together, which was taken advantage of by some of the noblemen who had retained those habits since the time of Monsieur Mazarin -- who had a poor memory, but was a good calculator. In this way, Monsieur Manicamp, with a thoughtless and absent air -- for M. Manicamp was the honestest man in the world, appropriated twenty thousand francs, which were littering the table, and which did not seem to belong to any person in particular. In the same way, Monsieur de Wardes, whose head was doubtless a little bewildered by the occurrences of the evening, somehow forgot to leave behind him the sixty double louis which he had won for the Duke of Buckingham, and which the duke, incapable, like his father, of soiling his hands with coin of any sort, had left lying on the table before him. The king only recovered his attention in some degree at the moment that Monsieur Colbert, who had been narrowly observant for some minutes, approached, and, doubtless, with great respect, yet with much perseverance, whispered a counsel of some sort into the still tingling ears of the king. The king, at the suggestion, listened with renewed attention and immediately looking around him, said, “Is Monsieur Fouquet no longer here?”
+
+“Yes, sire, I am here,” replied the superintendent, till then engaged with Buckingham, and approached the king, who advanced a step towards him with a smiling yet negligent air. “Forgive me,” said Louis, “if I interrupt your conversation; but I claim your attention wherever I may require your services.”
+
+“I am always at the king’s service,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“And your cash-box, too,” said the king, laughing with a false smile.
+
+“My cash-box more than anything else,” said Fouquet, coldly.
+
+“The fact is, I wish to give a fete at Fontainebleau -- to keep open house for fifteen days, and I shall require -- ” and he stopped, glancing at Colbert. Fouquet waited without showing discomposure; and the king resumed, answering Colbert’s icy smile, “four million francs.”
+
+“Four million,” repeated Fouquet, bowing profoundly. And his nails, buried in his bosom, were thrust into his flesh, but the tranquil expression of his face remained unaltered. “When will they be required, sire?”
+
+“Take your time, -- I mean -- no, no; as soon as possible.”
+
+“A certain time will be necessary, sire.”
+
+“Time!” exclaimed Colbert, triumphantly.
+
+“The time, monsieur,” said the superintendent, with the haughtiest disdain, “simply to count the money; a million can only be drawn and weighed in a day.”
+
+“Four days, then,” said Colbert.
+
+“My clerks,” replied Fouquet, addressing himself to the king, “will perform wonders on his majesty’s service, and the sum shall be ready in three days.”
+
+It was for Colbert now to turn pale. Louis looked at him astonished. Fouquet withdrew without any parade or weakness, smiling at his numerous friends, in whose countenances alone he read the sincerity of their friendship -- an interest partaking of compassion. Fouquet, however, should not be judged by his smile, for, in reality, he felt as if he had been stricken by death. Drops of blood beneath his coat stained the fine linen that clothed his chest. His dress concealed the blood, and his smile the rage which devoured him. His domestics perceived, by the manner in which he approached his carriage, that their master was not in the best of humors: the result of their discernment was, that his orders were executed with that exactitude of maneuver which is found on board a man-of-war, commanded during a storm by an ill-tempered captain. The carriage, therefore, did not simply roll along -- it flew. Fouquet had hardly time to recover himself during the drive; on his arrival he went at once to Aramis, who had not yet retired for the night. As for Porthos, he had supped very agreeably off a roast leg of mutton, two pheasants, and a perfect heap of cray-fish; he then directed his body to be anointed with perfumed oils, in the manner of the wrestlers of old; and when this anointment was completed, he had himself wrapped in flannels and placed in a warm bed. Aramis, as we have already said, had not retired. Seated at his ease in a velvet dressing-gown, he wrote letter after letter in that fine and hurried handwriting, a page of which contained a quarter of a volume. The door was thrown hurriedly open, and the superintendent appeared, pale, agitated, anxious. Aramis looked up: “Good-evening,” said he; and his searching look detected his host’s sadness and disordered state of mind. “Was your play as good as his majesty’s?” asked Aramis, by way of beginning the conversation.
+
+Fouquet threw himself upon a couch, and then pointed to the door to the servant who had followed him; when the servant had left he said, “Excellent.”
+
+Aramis, who had followed every movement with his eyes, noticed that he stretched himself upon the cushions with a sort of feverish impatience. “You have lost as usual?” inquired Aramis, his pen still in his hand.
+
+“Even more than usual,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“You know how to support losses?”
+
+“Sometimes.”
+
+“What, Monsieur Fouquet a bad player!”
+
+“There is play and play, Monsieur d’Herblay.”
+
+“How much have you lost?” inquired Aramis, with a slight uneasiness.
+
+Fouquet collected himself a moment, and then, without the slightest emotion, said, “The evening has cost me four millions,” and a bitter laugh drowned the last vibration of these words.
+
+Aramis, who did not expect such an amount, dropped his pen. “Four millions,” he said; “you have lost four millions, -- impossible!”
+
+“Monsieur Colbert held my cards for me,” replied the superintendent, with a similar bitter laugh.
+
+“Ah, now I understand; so, so, a new application for funds?”
+
+“Yes, and from the king’s own lips. It was impossible to ruin a man with a more charming smile. What do you think of it?”
+
+“It is clear that your destruction is the object in view.”
+
+“That is your opinion?”
+
+“Still. Besides, there is nothing in it which should astonish you, for we have foreseen it all along.”
+
+“Yes; but I did not expect four millions.”
+
+“No doubt the amount is serious, but, after all, four millions are not quite the death of a man, especially when the man in question is Monsieur Fouquet.”
+
+“My dear D’Herblay, if you knew the contents of my coffers, you would be less easy.”
+
+“And you promised?”
+
+“What could I do?”
+
+“That’s true.”
+
+“The very day I refuse, Colbert will procure the money; whence I know not, but he will procure it: and I shall be lost.”
+
+“There is no doubt of that. In how many days did you promise the four millions?”
+
+“In three days. The king seemed exceedingly pressed.”
+
+“In three days?”
+
+“When I think,” resumed Fouquet, “that just now as I passed along the streets, the people cried out, ‘There is the rich Monsieur Fouquet,’ it is enough to turn my brain.”
+
+“Stay, monsieur, the matter is not worth so much trouble,” said Aramis, calmly, sprinkling some sand over the letter he had just written.
+
+“Suggest a remedy, then, for this evil without a remedy.”
+
+“There is only one remedy for you, -- pay.”
+
+“But it is very uncertain whether I have the money. Everything must be exhausted; Belle-Isle is paid for; the pension has been paid; and money, since the investigation of the accounts of those who farm the revenue, is scarce. Besides, admitting that I pay this time, how can I do so on another occasion? When kings have tasted money, they are like tigers who have tasted flesh, they devour everything. The day will arrive -- must arrive -- when I shall have to say, ‘Impossible, sire,’ and on that very day I am a lost man.”
+
+Aramis raised his shoulders slightly, saying:
+
+“A man in your position, my lord, is only lost when he wishes to be so.”
+
+“A man, whatever his position may be, cannot hope to struggle against a king.”
+
+“Nonsense; when I was young I wrestled successfully with the Cardinal Richelieu, who was king of France, -- nay more -- cardinal.”
+
+“Where are my armies, my troops, my treasures? I have not even Belle-Isle.”
+
+“Bah! necessity is the mother of invention, and when you think all is lost, something will be discovered which will retrieve everything.”
+
+“Who will discover this wonderful something?”
+
+“Yourself.”
+
+“I! I resign my office of inventor.”
+
+“Then I will.”
+
+“Be it so. But set to work without delay.”
+
+“Oh! we have time enough!”
+
+“You kill me, D’Herblay, with your calmness,” said the superintendent, passing his handkerchief over his face.
+
+“Do you not remember that I one day told you not to make yourself uneasy, if you possessed courage? Have you any?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“Then don’t make yourself uneasy.”
+
+“It is decided then, that, at the last moment, you will come to my assistance.”
+
+“It will only be the repayment of a debt I owe you.”
+
+“It is the vocation of financiers to anticipate the wants of men such as yourself, D’Herblay.”
+
+“If obligingness is the vocation of financiers, charity is the virtue of the clergy. Only, on this occasion, do you act, monsieur. You are not yet sufficiently reduced, and at the last moment we will see what is to be done.”
+
+“We shall see, then, in a very short time.”
+
+“Very well. However, permit me to tell you that, personally, I regret exceedingly that you are at present so short of money, because I myself was about to ask you for some.”
+
+“For yourself?”
+
+“For myself, or some of my people, for mine or for ours.”
+
+“How much do you want?”
+
+“Be easy on that score; a roundish sum, it is true, but not too exorbitant.”
+
+“Tell me the amount.”
+
+“Fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“Oh! a mere nothing. Of course one has always fifty thousand francs. Why the deuce cannot that knave Colbert be as easily satisfied as you are -- and I should give myself far less trouble than I do. When do you need this sum?”
+
+“To-morrow morning; but you wish to know its destination?”
+
+“Nay, nay, chevalier, I need no explanation.”
+
+“To-morrow is the first of June.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“One of our bonds becomes due.”
+
+“I did not know we had any bonds.”
+
+“Certainly, to-morrow we pay our last third instalment.”
+
+“What third?”
+
+“Of the one hundred and fifty thousand francs to Baisemeaux.”
+
+“Baisemeaux? Who is he?”
+
+“The governor of the Bastile.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. On what grounds am I to pay one hundred and fifty thousand francs for that man.”
+
+“On account of the appointment which he, or rather we, purchased from Louviere and Tremblay.”
+
+“I have a very vague recollection of the matter.”
+
+“That is likely enough, for you have so many affairs to attend to. However, I do not believe you have any affair in the world of greater importance than this one.”
+
+“Tell me, then, why we purchased this appointment.”
+
+“Why, in order to render him a service in the first place, and afterwards ourselves.”
+
+“Ourselves? You are joking.”
+
+“Monseigneur, the time may come when the governor of the Bastile may prove a very excellent acquaintance.”
+
+“I have not the good fortune to understand you, D’Herblay.”
+
+“Monseigneur, we had our own poets, our own engineer, our own architect, our own musicians, our own printer, and our own painters; we needed our own governor of the Bastile.”
+
+“Do you think so?”
+
+“Let us not deceive ourselves, monseigneur; we are very much opposed to paying the Bastile a visit,” added the prelate, displaying, beneath his pale lips, teeth which were still the same beautiful teeth so much admired thirty years previously by Marie Michon.
+
+“And you think it is not too much to pay one hundred and fifty thousand francs for that? I thought you generally put out money at better interest than that.”
+
+“The day will come when you will admit your mistake.”
+
+“My dear D’Herblay, the very day on which a man enters the Bastile, he is no longer protected by his past.”
+
+“Yes, he is, if the bonds are perfectly regular; besides, that good fellow Baisemeaux has not a courtier’s heart. I am certain, my lord, that he will not remain ungrateful for that money, without taking into account, I repeat, that I retain the acknowledgements.”
+
+“It is a strange affair! usury in a matter of benevolence.”
+
+“Do not mix yourself up with it, monseigneur; if there be usury, it is I who practice it, and both of us reap the advantage from it -- that is all.”
+
+“Some intrigue, D’Herblay?”
+
+“I do not deny it.”
+
+“And Baisemeaux an accomplice in it?”
+
+“Why not? -- there are worse accomplices than he. May I depend, then, upon the five thousand pistoles to-morrow?”
+
+“Do you want them this evening?”
+
+“It would be better, for I wish to start early; poor Baisemeaux will not be able to imagine what has be become of me, and must be upon thorns.”
+
+“You shall have the amount in an hour. Ah, D’Herblay, the interest of your one hundred and fifty thousand francs will never pay my four millions for me.”
+
+“Why not, monseigneur?”
+
+“Good-night, I have business to transact with my clerks before I retire.”
+
+“A good night’s rest, monseigneur.”
+
+“D’Herblay, you wish things that are impossible.”
+
+“Shall I have my fifty thousand francs this evening?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Go to sleep, then, in perfect safety -- it is I who tell you to do so.”
+
+Notwithstanding this assurance, and the tone in which it was given, Fouquet left the room shaking his head, and heaving a sigh.
+
+Chapter XXIII. M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun’s Accounts.
+
+The clock of St. Paul was striking seven as Aramis, on horseback, dressed as a simple citizen, that is to say, in colored suit, with no distinctive mark about him, except a kind of hunting-knife by his side, passed before the Rue du Petit-Musc, and stopped opposite the Rue des Tournelles, at the gate of the Bastile. Two sentinels were on duty at the gate; they made no difficulty about admitting Aramis, who entered without dismounting, and they pointed out the way he was to go by a long passage with buildings on both sides. This passage led to the drawbridge, or, in other words, to the real entrance. The drawbridge was down, and the duty of the day was about being entered upon. The sentinel at the outer guardhouse stopped Aramis’s further progress, asking him, in a rough tone of voice, what had brought him there. Aramis explained, with his usual politeness, that a wish to speak to M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun had occasioned his visit. The first sentinel then summoned a second sentinel, stationed within an inner lodge, who showed his face at the grating, and inspected the new arrival most attentively. Aramis reiterated the expression of his wish to see the governor; whereupon the sentinel called to an officer of lower grade, who was walking about in a tolerably spacious courtyard and who, in turn, on being informed of his object, ran to seek one of the officers of the governor’s staff. The latter, after having listened to Aramis’s request, begged him to wait a moment, then went away a short distance, but returned to ask his name. “I cannot tell it you, monsieur,” said Aramis; “I need only mention that I have matters of such importance to communicate to the governor, that I can only rely beforehand upon one thing, that M. de Baisemeaux will be delighted to see me; nay, more than that, when you have told him that it is the person whom he expected on the first of June, I am convinced he will hasten here himself.” The officer could not possibly believe that a man of the governor’s importance should put himself out for a person of so little importance as the citizen-looking visitor on horseback. “It happens most fortunately, monsieur,” he said, “that the governor is just going out, and you can perceive his carriage with the horses already harnessed, in the courtyard yonder; there will be no occasion for him to come to meet you, as he will see you as he passes by.” Aramis bowed to signify his assent; he did not wish to inspire others with too exalted an opinion of himself, and therefore waited patiently and in silence, leaning upon the saddle-bow of his horse. Ten minutes had hardly elapsed when the governor’s carriage was observed to move. The governor appeared at the door, and got into the carriage, which immediately prepared to start. The same ceremony was observed for the governor himself as with a suspected stranger; the sentinel at the lodge advanced as the carriage was about to pass under the arch, and the governor opened the carriage-door, himself setting the example of obedience to orders; so that, in this way, the sentinel could convince himself that no one quitted the Bastile improperly. The carriage rolled along under the archway, but at the moment the iron-gate was opened, the officer approached the carriage, which had again been stopped, and said something to the governor, who immediately put his head out of the door-way, and perceived Aramis on horseback at the end of the drawbridge. He immediately uttered almost a shout of delight, and got out, or rather darted out of his carriage, running towards Aramis, whose hands he seized, making a thousand apologies. He almost embraced him. “What a difficult matter to enter the Bastile!” said Aramis. “Is it the same for those who are sent here against their wills, as for those who come of their own accord?”
+
+“A thousand pardons, my lord. How delighted I am to see your Grace!”
+
+“Hush! What are you thinking of, my dear M. Baisemeaux? What do you suppose would be thought of a bishop in my present costume?”
+
+“Pray, excuse me, I had forgotten. Take this gentleman’s horse to the stables,” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“No, no,” said Aramis; “I have five thousand pistoles in the saddle-bags.”
+
+The governor’s countenance became so radiant, that if the prisoners had seen him they would have imagined some prince of the royal blood had arrived. “Yes, you are right, the horse shall be taken to the government house. Will you get into the carriage, my dear M. d’Herblay? and it shall take us back to my house.”
+
+“Get into a carriage to cross a courtyard! do you believe I am so great an invalid? No, no, we will go on foot.”
+
+Baisemeaux then offered his arm as a support, but the prelate did not accept it. They arrived in this manner at the government house, Baisemeaux rubbing his hands and glancing at the horse from time to time, while Aramis was looking at the bleak bare walls. A tolerably handsome vestibule and a staircase of white stone led to the governor’s apartments, who crossed the ante-chamber, the dining-room, where breakfast was being prepared, opened a small side door, and closeted himself with his guest in a large cabinet, the windows of which opened obliquely upon the courtyard and the stables. Baisemeaux installed the prelate with that all-inclusive politeness of which a good man, or a grateful man, alone possesses the secret. An arm-chair, a footstool, a small table beside him, on which to rest his hand, everything was prepared by the governor himself. With his own hands, too, he placed upon the table, with much solicitude, the bag containing the gold, which one of the soldiers had brought up with the most respectful devotion; and the soldier having left the room, Baisemeaux himself closed the door after him, drew aside one of the window-curtains, and looked steadfastly at Aramis to see if the prelate required anything further.
+
+“Well, my lord,” he said, still standing up, “of all men of their word, you still continue to be the most punctual.”
+
+“In matters of business, dear M. de Baisemeaux, exactitude is not a virtue only, it is a duty as well.”
+
+“Yes, in matters of business, certainly; but what you have with me is not of that character; it is a service you are rendering me.”
+
+“Come, confess, dear M. de Baisemeaux, that, notwithstanding this exactitude, you have not been without a little uneasiness.”
+
+“About your health, I certainly have,” stammered out Baisemeaux.
+
+“I wished to come here yesterday, but I was not able, as I was too fatigued,” continued Aramis. Baisemeaux anxiously slipped another cushion behind his guest’s back. “But,” continued Aramis, “I promised myself to come and pay you a visit to-day, early in the morning.”
+
+“You are really very kind, my lord.”
+
+“And it was a good thing for me I was punctual, I think.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Yes, you were going out.” At which latter remark Baisemeaux colored and said, “It is true I was going out.”
+
+“Then I prevent you,” said Aramis; whereupon the embarrassment of Baisemeaux became visibly greater. “I am putting you to inconvenience,” he continued, fixing a keen glace upon the poor governor; “if I had known that, I should not have come.”
+
+“How can your lordship imagine that you could ever inconvenience me?”
+
+“Confess you were going in search of money.”
+
+“No,” stammered out Baisemeaux, “no! I assure you I was going to -- ”
+
+“Does the governor still intend to go to M. Fouquet?” suddenly called out the major from below. Baisemeaux ran to the window like a madman. “No, no,” he exclaimed in a state of desperation, “who the deuce is speaking of M. Fouquet? are you drunk below there? why am I interrupted when I am engaged on business?”
+
+“You were going to M. Fouquet’s,” said Aramis, biting his lips, “to M. Fouquet, the abbe, or the superintendent?”
+
+Baisemeaux almost made up his mind to tell an untruth, but he could not summon courage to do so. “To the superintendent,” he said.
+
+“It is true, then, that you were in want of money, since you were going to a person who gives it away!”
+
+“I assure you, my lord -- ”
+
+“You were afraid?”
+
+“My dear lord, it was the uncertainty and ignorance in which I was as to where you were to be found.”
+
+“You would have found the money you require at M. Fouquet’s, for he is a man whose hand is always open.”
+
+“I swear that I should never have ventured to ask M. Fouquet for money. I only wished to ask him for your address.”
+
+“To ask M. Fouquet for my address?” exclaimed Aramis, opening his eyes in real astonishment.
+
+“Yes,” said Baisemeaux, greatly disturbed by the glance which the prelate fixed upon him, -- “at M. Fouquet’s certainly.”
+
+“There is no harm in that, dear M. Baisemeaux, only I would ask, why ask my address of M. Fouquet?”
+
+“That I might write to you.”
+
+“I understand,” said Aramis smiling, “but that is not what I meant; I do not ask you what you required my address for: I only ask why you should go to M. Fouquet for it?”
+
+“Oh!” said Baisemeaux, “as Belle-Isle is the property of M. Fouquet, and as Belle-Isle is in the diocese of Vannes, and as you are bishop of Vannes -- ”
+
+“But, my dear Baisemeaux, since you knew I was bishop of Vannes, you had no occasion to ask M. Fouquet for my address.”
+
+“Well, monsieur,” said Baisemeaux, completely at bay, “if I have acted indiscreetly, I beg your pardon most sincerely.”
+
+“Nonsense,” observed Aramis calmly: “how can you possibly have acted indiscreetly?” And while he composed his face, and continued to smile cheerfully on the governor, he was considering how Baisemeaux, who was not aware of his address, knew, however, that Vannes was his residence. “I shall clear all this up,” he said to himself; and then speaking aloud, added, -- “Well, my dear governor shall we now arrange our little accounts?”
+
+“I am at your orders, my lord; but tell me beforehand, my lord, whether you will do me the honor to breakfast with me as usual?”
+
+“Very willingly, indeed.”
+
+“That’s well,” said Baisemeaux, as he struck the bell before him three times.
+
+“What does that mean?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“That I have some one to breakfast with me, and that preparations are to be made accordingly.”
+
+“And you rang thrice. Really, my dear governor, I begin to think you are acting ceremoniously with me.”
+
+“No, indeed. Besides, the least I can do is to receive you in the best way I can.”
+
+“But why so?”
+
+“Because not even a prince could have done what you have done for me.”
+
+“Nonsense! nonsense!”
+
+“Nay, I assure you -- ”
+
+“Let us speak of other matters,” said Aramis. “Or rather, tell me how your affairs here are getting on.”
+
+“Not over well.”
+
+“The deuce!”
+
+“M. de Mazarin was not hard enough.”
+
+“Yes, I see; you require a government full of suspicion -- like that of the old cardinal, for instance.”
+
+“Yes; matters went on better under him. The brother of his ‘gray eminence’ made his fortune here.”
+
+“Believe me, my dear governor,” said Aramis, drawing closer to Baisemeaux, “a young king is well worth an old cardinal. Youth has its suspicions, its fits of anger, its prejudices, as old age has its hatreds, its precautions, and its fears. Have you paid your three years’ profits to Louvidre and Tremblay?”
+
+“Most certainly I have.”
+
+“So that you have nothing more to give them than the fifty thousand francs I have brought with me?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Have you not saved anything, then?”
+
+“My lord, in giving the fifty thousand francs of my own to these gentlemen, I assure you that I gave them everything I gain. I told M. d’Artagnan so yesterday evening.”
+
+“Ah!” said Aramis, whose eyes sparkled for a moment, but became immediately afterwards as unmoved as before; “so you have been to see my old friend D’Artagnan; how was he?”
+
+“Wonderfully well.”
+
+“And what did you say to him, M. de Baisemeaux?”
+
+“I told him,” continued the governor, not perceiving his own thoughtlessness; “I told him that I fed my prisoners too well.”
+
+“How many have you?” inquired Aramis, in an indifferent tone of voice.
+
+“Sixty.”
+
+“Well, that is a tolerably round number.”
+
+“In former times, my lord, there were, during certain years, as many as two hundred.”
+
+“Still a minimum of sixty is not to be grumbled at.”
+
+“Perhaps not; for, to anybody but myself, each prisoner would bring in two hundred and fifty pistoles; for instance, for a prince of the blood I have fifty francs a day.”
+
+“Only you have no prince of the blood; at least, I suppose so,” said Aramis, with a slight tremor in his voice.
+
+“No, thank heaven! -- I mean, no, unfortunately.”
+
+“What do you mean by unfortunately?”
+
+“Because my appointment would be improved by it. So fifty francs per day for a prince of the blood, thirty-six for a marechal of France -- ”
+
+“But you have as many marechals of France, I suppose, as you have princes of the blood?”
+
+“Alas! no more. It is true lieutenant-generals and brigadiers pay twenty-six francs, and I have two of them. After that, come councilors of parliament, who bring me fifteen francs, and I have six of them.”
+
+“I did not know,” said Aramis, “that councilors were so productive.”
+
+“Yes; but from fifteen francs I sink at once to ten francs; namely, for an ordinary judge, and for an ecclesiastic.”
+
+“And you have seven, you say; an excellent affair.”
+
+“Nay, a bad one, and for this reason. How can I possibly treat these poor fellows, who are of some good, at all events, otherwise than as a councilor of parliament?”
+
+“Yes, you are right; I do not see five francs difference between them.”
+
+“You understand; if I have a fine fish, I pay four or five francs for it; if I get a fine fowl, it cost me a franc and a half. I fatten a good deal of poultry, but I have to buy grain, and you cannot imagine the army of rats that infest this place.”
+
+“Why not get half a dozen cats to deal with them?”
+
+“Cats, indeed; yes, they eat them, but I was obliged to give up the idea because of the way in which they treated my grain. I have been obliged to have some terrier dogs sent me from England to kill the rats. These dogs, unfortunately, have tremendous appetites; they eat as much as a prisoner of the fifth order, without taking into account the rabbits and fowls they kill.”
+
+Was Aramis really listening or not? No one could have told; his downcast eyes showed the attentive man, but the restless hand betrayed the man absorbed in thought -- Aramis was meditating.
+
+“I was saying,” continued Baisemeaux, “that a good-sized fowl costs me a franc and a half, and that a fine fish costs me four or five francs. Three meals are served at the Bastile, and, as the prisoners, having nothing to do, are always eating, a ten-franc man costs me seven francs and a half.”
+
+“But did you not say that you treated those at ten francs like those at fifteen?”
+
+“Yes, certainly.”
+
+“Very well! Then you gain seven francs and a half upon those who pay you fifteen francs.”
+
+“I must compensate myself somehow,” said Baisemeaux, who saw how he had been snapped up.
+
+“You are quite right, my dear governor; but have you no prisoners below ten francs?”
+
+“Oh, yes! we have citizens and barristers at five francs.”
+
+“And do they eat, too?”
+
+“Not a doubt about it; only you understand that they do not get fish or poultry, nor rich wines at every meal; but at all events thrice a week they have a good dish at their dinner.”
+
+“Really, you are quite a philanthropist, my dear governor, and you will ruin yourself.”
+
+“No; understand me; when the fifteen-franc has not eaten his fowl, or the ten-franc has left his dish unfinished, I send it to the five-franc prisoner; it is a feast for the poor devil, and one must be charitable, you know.”
+
+“And what do you make out of your five-franc prisoners?”
+
+“A franc and a half.”
+
+“Baisemeaux, you’re an honest fellow; in honest truth I say so.”
+
+“Thank you, my lord. But I feel most for the small tradesmen and bailiffs’ clerks, who are rated at three francs. They do not often see Rhine carp or Channel sturgeon.”
+
+“But do not the five-franc gentlemen sometimes leave some scraps?”
+
+“Oh! my lord, do not believe I am so stingy as that; I delight the heart of some poor little tradesman or clerk by sending him a wing of a red partridge, a slice of venison, or a slice of a truffled pasty, dishes which he never tasted except in his dreams; these are the leavings of the twenty-four-franc prisoners; and as he eats and drinks, at dessert he cries ‘Long live the King,’ and blesses the Bastile; with a couple bottles of champagne, which cost me five sous, I make him tipsy every Sunday. That class of people call down blessings upon me, and are sorry to leave the prison. Do you know that I have remarked, and it does me infinite honor, that certain prisoners, who have been set at liberty, have, almost immediately afterwards, got imprisoned again? Why should this be the case, unless it be to enjoy the pleasures of my kitchen? It is really the fact.”
+
+Aramis smiled with an expression of incredulity.
+
+“You smile,” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“I do,” returned Aramis.
+
+“I tell you that we have names which have been inscribed on our books thrice in the space of two years.”
+
+“I must see it before I believe it,” said Aramis.
+
+“Well, I can show it to you, although it is prohibited to communicate the registers to strangers; and if you really wish to see it with your own eyes -- ”
+
+“I should be delighted, I confess.”
+
+“Very well,” said Baisemeaux, and he took out of a cupboard a large register. Aramis followed him most anxiously with his eyes, and Baisemeaux returned, placed the register upon the table, and turned over the leaves for a minute, and stayed at the letter M.
+
+“Look here,” said he, “Martinier, January, 1659; Martinier, June, 1660; Martinier, March, 1661. Mazarinades, etc.; you understand it was only a pretext; people were not sent to the Bastile for jokes against M. Mazarin; the fellow denounced himself in order to get imprisoned here.”
+
+“And what was his object?”
+
+“None other than to return to my kitchen at three francs a day.”
+
+“Three francs -- poor devil!”
+
+“The poet, my lord, belongs to the lowest scale, the same style of board as the small tradesman and bailiff’s clerk; but I repeat, it is to those people that I give these little surprises.”
+
+Aramis mechanically turned over the leaves of the register, continuing to read the names, but without appearing to take any interest in the names he read.
+
+“In 1661, you perceive,” said Baisemeaux, “eighty entries; and in 1659, eighty also.”
+
+“Ah!” said Aramis. “Seldon; I seem to know that name. Was it not you who spoke to me about a certain young man?”
+
+“Yes, a poor devil of a student, who made -- What do you call that where two Latin verses rhyme together?”
+
+“A distich.”
+
+“Yes; that is it.”
+
+“Poor fellow; for a distich.”
+
+“Do you know that he made this distich against the Jesuits?”
+
+“That makes no difference; the punishment seems very severe. Do not pity him; last year you seemed to interest yourself in him.”
+
+“Yes, I did so.”
+
+“Well, as your interest is all-powerful here, my lord, I have treated him since that time as a prisoner at fifteen francs.”
+
+“The same as this one, then,” said Aramis, who had continued turning over the leaves, and who had stopped at one of the names which followed Martinier.
+
+“Yes, the same as that one.”
+
+“Is that Marchiali an Italian?” said Aramis, pointing with his finger to the name which had attracted his attention.
+
+“Hush!” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“Why hush?” said Aramis, involuntarily clenching his white hand.
+
+“I thought I had already spoken to you about that Marchiali.”
+
+“No, it is the first time I ever heard his name pronounced.”
+
+“That may be, but perhaps I have spoken to you about him without naming him.”
+
+“Is he an old offender?” asked Aramis, attempting to smile.
+
+“On the contrary, he is quite young.”
+
+“Is his crime, then, very heinous?”
+
+“Unpardonable.”
+
+“Has he assassinated any one?”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“An incendiary, then?”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Has he slandered any one?”
+
+“No, no! It is he who -- ” and Baisemeaux approached Aramis’s ear, making a sort of ear-trumpet of his hands, and whispered: “It is he who presumes to resemble the -- ”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Aramis; “I now remember you already spoke about it last year to me; but the crime appeared to me so slight.”
+
+“Slight, do you say?”
+
+“Or rather, so involuntary.”
+
+“My lord, it is not involuntarily that such a resemblance is detected.”
+
+“Well, the fact is, I had forgotten it. But, my dear host,” said Aramis, closing the register, “if I am not mistaken, we are summoned.”
+
+Baisemeaux took the register, hastily restored it to its place in the closet, which he locked, and put the key in his pocket. “Will it be agreeable to your lordship to breakfast now?” said he; “for you are right in supposing that breakfast was announced.”
+
+“Assuredly, my dear governor,” and they passed into the dining-room.
+
+Chapter XXIV. The Breakfast at Monsieur de Baisemeaux’s.
+
+Aramis was generally temperate; but on this occasion, while taking every care of his constitution, he did ample justice to Baisemeaux’s breakfast, which, in all respects, was most excellent. The latter on his side, was animated with the wildest gayety; the sight of the five thousand pistoles, which he glanced at from time to time, seemed to open his heart. Every now and then he looked at Aramis with an expression of the deepest gratitude; while the latter, leaning back in his chair, took a few sips of wine from his glass, with the air of a connoisseur. “Let me never hear any ill words against the fare of the Bastile,” said he, half closing his eyes; “happy are the prisoners who can get only half a bottle of such Burgundy every day.”
+
+“All those at fifteen francs drink it,” said Baisemeaux. “It is very old Volnay.”
+
+“Does that poor student, Seldon, drink such good wine?”
+
+“Oh, no!”
+
+“I thought I heard you say he was boarded at fifteen francs.”
+
+“He! no, indeed; a man who makes districts -- distichs I mean -- at fifteen francs! No, no! it is his neighbor who is at fifteen francs.”
+
+“Which neighbor?”
+
+“The other, second Bertaudiere.”
+
+“Excuse me, my dear governor; but you speak a language which requires quite an apprenticeship to understand.”
+
+“Very true,” said the governor. “Allow me to explain: second Bertaudiere is the person who occupies the second floor of the tower of the Bertaudiere.”
+
+“So that Bertaudiere is the name of one of the towers of the Bastile? The fact is, I think I recollect hearing that each tower has a name of its own. Whereabouts is the one you are speaking of?”
+
+“Look,” said Baisemeaux, going to the window. “It is that tower to the left -- the second one.”
+
+“Is the prisoner at fifteen francs there?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Since when?”
+
+“Seven or eight years, nearly.”
+
+“What do you mean by nearly? Do you not know the dates more precisely?”
+
+“It was not in my time, M. d’Herblay.”
+
+“But I should have thought that Louviere or Tremblay would have told you.”
+
+“The secrets of the Bastile are never handed over with the keys of the governorship.”
+
+“Indeed! Then the cause of his imprisonment is a mystery -- a state secret.”
+
+“Oh, no! I do not suppose it is a state secret, but a secret -- like everything that happens at the Bastile.”
+
+“But,” said Aramis, “why do you speak more freely of Seldon than of second Bertaudiere?”
+
+“Because, in my opinion, the crime of the man who writes a distich is not so great as that of the man who resembles -- ”
+
+“Yes, yes; I understand you. Still, do not the turnkeys talk with your prisoners?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“The prisoners, I suppose, tell them they are not guilty?”
+
+“They are always telling them that; it is a matter of course; the same song over and over again.”
+
+“But does not the resemblance you were speaking about just now strike the turnkeys?”
+
+“My dear M. d’Herblay, it is only for men attached to the court, as you are, to take trouble about such matters.”
+
+“You’re right, you’re right, my dear M. Baisemeaux. Let me give you another taste of this Volnay.”
+
+“Not a taste merely, a full glass; fill yours too.”
+
+“Nay, nay! You are a musketeer still, to the very tips of your fingers, while I have become a bishop. A taste for me; a glass for yourself.”
+
+“As you please.” And Aramis and the governor nodded to each other, as they drank their wine. “But,” said Aramis, looking with fixed attention at the ruby-colored wine he had raised to the level of his eyes, as if he wished to enjoy it with all his senses at the same moment, “but what you might call a resemblance, another would not, perhaps, take any notice of.”
+
+“Most certainly he would, though, if it were any one who knew the person he resembles.”
+
+“I really think, dear M. Baisemeaux, that it can be nothing more than a resemblance of your own creation.”
+
+“Upon my honor, it is not so.”
+
+“Stay,” continued Aramis. “I have seen many persons very like the one we are speaking of; but, out of respect, no one ever said anything about it.”
+
+“Very likely; because there is resemblance and resemblance. This is a striking one, and, if you were to see him, you would admit it to be so.”
+
+“If I were to see him, indeed,” said Aramis, in an indifferent tone; “but in all probability I never shall.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because if I were even to put my foot inside one of those horrible dungeons, I should fancy I was buried there forever.”
+
+“No, no; the cells are very good places to live in.”
+
+“I really do not, and cannot believe it, and that is a fact.”
+
+“Pray do not speak ill of second Bertaudiere. It is really a good room, very nicely furnished and carpeted. The young fellow has by no means been unhappy there; the best lodging the Bastile affords has been his. There is a chance for you.”
+
+“Nay, nay,” said Aramis, coldly; “you will never make me believe there are any good rooms in the Bastile; and, as for your carpets, they exist only in your imagination. I should find nothing but spiders, rats, and perhaps toads, too.”
+
+“Toads?” cried Baisemeaux.
+
+“Yes, in the dungeons.”
+
+“Ah! I don’t say there are not toads in the dungeons,” replied Baisemeaux. “But -- will you be convinced by your own eyes?” he continued, with a sudden impulse.
+
+“No, certainly not.”
+
+“Not even to satisfy yourself of the resemblance which you deny, as you do the carpets?”
+
+“Some spectral-looking person, a mere shadow; an unhappy, dying man.”
+
+“Nothing of the kind -- as brisk and vigorous a young fellow as ever lived.”
+
+“Melancholy and ill-tempered, then?”
+
+“Not at all; very gay and lively.”
+
+“Nonsense; you are joking.”
+
+“Will you follow me?” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“What for?”
+
+“To go the round of the Bastile.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“You will then see for yourself -- see with your own eyes.”
+
+“But the regulations?”
+
+“Never mind them. To-day my major has leave of absence; the lieutenant is visiting the post on the bastions; we are sole masters of the situation.”
+
+“No, no, my dear governor; why, the very idea of the sound of the bolts makes me shudder. You will only have to forget me in second or fourth Bertaudiere, and then -- ”
+
+“You are refusing an opportunity that may never present itself again. Do you know that, to obtain the favor I propose to you gratis, some of the princes of the blood have offered me as much as fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“Really! he must be worth seeing, then?”
+
+“Forbidden fruit, my lord; forbidden fruit. You who belong to the church ought to know that.”
+
+“Well, if had any curiosity, it would be to see the poor author of the distich.”
+
+“Very well, we will see him, too; but if I were at all curious, it would be about the beautiful carpeted room and its lodger.”
+
+“Furniture is very commonplace; and a face with no expression in it offers little or no interest.”
+
+“But a boarder at fifteen francs is always interesting.”
+
+“By the by, I forgot to ask you about that. Why fifteen francs for him, and only three francs for poor Seldon?”
+
+“The distinction made in that instance was a truly noble act, and one which displayed the king’s goodness of heart to great advantage.”
+
+“The king’s, you say.”
+
+“The cardinal’s, I mean. ‘This unhappy man,’ said M. Mazarin, ‘is destined to remain in prison forever.’”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Why, it seems that his crime is a lasting one; and, consequently, his punishment ought to be so, too.”
+
+“Lasting?”
+
+“No doubt of it, unless he is fortunate enough to catch the small-pox, and even that is difficult, for we never get any impure air here.”
+
+“Nothing can be more ingenious than your train of reasoning, my dear M. Baisemeaux. Do you, however, mean to say that this unfortunate man must suffer without interruption or termination?”
+
+“I did not say he was to suffer, my lord; a fifteen-franc boarder does not suffer.”
+
+“He suffers imprisonment, at all events.”
+
+“No doubt; there is no help for that, but this suffering is sweetened for him. You must admit that this young fellow was not born to eat all the good things he does eat; for instance, such things as we have on the table now; this pasty that has not been touched, these crawfish from the River Marne, of which we have hardly taken any, and which are almost as large as lobsters; all these things will at once be taken to second Bertaudiere, with a bottle of that Volnay which you think so excellent. After you have seen it you will believe it, I hope.”
+
+“Yes, my dear governor, certainly; but all this time you are thinking only of your very happy fifteen-franc prisoner, and you forget poor Seldon, my protege.”
+
+“Well, out of consideration for you, it shall be a gala day for him; he shall have some biscuits and preserves with this small bottle of port.”
+
+“You are a good-hearted fellow; I have said so already, and I repeat it, my dear Baisemeaux.”
+
+“Well, let us set off, then,” said the governor, a little bewildered, partly from the wine he had drunk, and partly from Aramis’s praises.
+
+“Do not forget that I only go to oblige you,” said the prelate.
+
+“Very well; but you will thank me when you get there.”
+
+“Let us go, then.”
+
+“Wait until I have summoned the jailer,” said Baisemeaux, as he struck the bell twice; at which summons a man appeared. “I am going to visit the towers,” said the governor. “No guards, no drums, no noise at all.”
+
+“If I were not to leave my cloak here,” said Aramis, pretending to be alarmed, “I should really think I was going to prison on my own account.”
+
+The jailer preceded the governor, Aramis walking on his right hand; some of the soldiers who happened to be in the courtyard drew themselves up in a line, as stiff as posts, as the governor passed along. Baisemeaux led the way down several steps which conducted to a sort of esplanade; thence they arrived at the drawbridge, where the sentinels on duty received the governor with the proper honors. The governor turned toward Aramis, and, speaking in such a tone that the sentinels could not lose a word, he observed, -- “I hope you have a good memory, monsieur?”
+
+“Why?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“On account of your plans and your measurements, for you know that no one is allowed, not architects even, to enter where the prisoners are, with paper, pens or pencil.”
+
+“Good,” said Aramis to himself, “it seems I am an architect, then. It sounds like one of D’Artagnan’s jokes, who perceived in me the engineer of Belle-Isle.” Then he added aloud: “Be easy on that score, monsieur; in our profession, a mere glance and a good memory are quite sufficient.”
+
+Baisemeaux did not change countenance, and the soldiers took Aramis for what he seemed to be. “Very well; we will first visit la Bertaudiere,” said Baisemeaux, still intending the sentinels to hear him. Then, turning to the jailer, he added: “You will take the opportunity of carrying to No. 2 the few dainties I pointed out.”
+
+“Dear M. de Baisemeaux,” said Aramis, “you are always forgetting No. 3.”
+
+“So I am,” said the governor; and upon that, they began to ascend. The number of bolts, gratings, and locks for this single courtyard would have sufficed for the safety of an entire city. Aramis was neither an imaginative nor a sensitive man; he had been somewhat of a poet in his youth, but his heart was hard and indifferent, as the heart of every man of fifty-five years of age is, who has been frequently and passionately attached to women in his lifetime, or rather who has been passionately loved by them. But when he placed his foot upon the worn stone steps, along which so many unhappy wretches had passed, when he felt himself impregnated, as it were, with the atmosphere of those gloomy dungeons, moistened with tears, there could be but little doubt he was overcome by his feelings, for his head was bowed and his eyes became dim, as he followed Baisemeaux without a syllable.
+
+Chapter XXV. The Second Floor of la Bertaudiere.
+
+On the second flight of stairs, whether from fatigue or emotion, the breathing of the visitor began to fail him, and he leaned against the wall. “Will you begin with this one?” said Baisemeaux; “for since we are going to both, it matters very little whether we ascend from the second to the third story, or descend from the third to the second.”
+
+“No, no,” exclaimed Aramis, eagerly, “higher, if you please; the one above is the more urgent.” They continued their ascent. “Ask the jailer for the keys,” whispered Aramis. Baisemeaux did so, took the keys, and, himself, opened the door of the third room. The jailer was the first to enter; he placed upon the table the provisions, which the kind-hearted governor called dainties, and then left the room. The prisoner had not stirred; Baisemeaux then entered, while Aramis remained at the threshold, from which place he saw a youth about eighteen years of age, who, raising his head at the unusual noise, jumped off the bed, as he perceived the governor, and clasping his hands together, began to cry out, “My mother, my mother,” in tones which betrayed such deep distress that Aramis, despite his command over himself, felt a shudder pass through his frame. “My dear boy,” said Baisemeaux, endeavoring to smile, “I have brought you a diversion and an extra, -- the one for the mind, the other for the body; this gentleman has come to take your measure, and here are some preserves for your dessert.”
+
+“Oh, monsieur!” exclaimed the young man, “keep me in solitude for a year, let me have nothing but bread and water for a year, but tell me that at the end of a year I shall leave this place, tell me that at the end of a year I shall see my mother again.”
+
+“But I have heard you say that your mother was very poor, and that you were very badly lodged when you were living with her, while here -- upon my word!”
+
+“If she were poor, monsieur, the greater reason to restore her only means of support to her. Badly lodged with her! Oh, monsieur, every one is always well lodged when he is free.”
+
+“At all events, since you yourself admit you have done nothing but write that unhappy distich -- ”
+
+“But without any intention, I swear. Let me be punished -- cut off the hand which wrote it, I will work with the other -- but restore my mother to me.”
+
+“My boy,” said Baisemeaux, “you know very well that it does not depend upon me; all I can do for you is to increase your rations, give you a glass of port wine now and then, slip in a biscuit for you between a couple of plates.”
+
+“Great heaven!” exclaimed the young man, falling backward and rolling on the ground.
+
+Aramis, unable to bear this scene any longer, withdrew as far as the landing. “Unhappy, wretched man,” he murmured.
+
+“Yes, monsieur, he is indeed very wretched,” said the jailer; “but it is his parents’ fault.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“No doubt. Why did they let him learn Latin? Too much knowledge, you see; it is that which does harm. Now I, for instance, can’t read or write, and therefore I am not in prison.” Aramis looked at the man, who seemed to think that being a jailer in the Bastile was not being in prison. As for Baisemeaux, noticing the little effect produced by his advice and his port wine, he left the dungeon quite upset. “You have forgotten to close the door,” said the jailer.
+
+“So I have,” said Baisemeaux; “there are the keys, do you do it.”
+
+“I will solicit the pardon of that poor boy,” said Aramis.
+
+“And if you do not succeed,” said Baisemeaux, “at least beg that he may be transferred to the ten-franc list, by which both he and I shall be gainers.”
+
+“If the other prisoner calls out for his mother in a similar manner,” said Aramis, “I prefer not to enter at all, but will take my measure from outside.”
+
+“No fear of that, monsieur architect, the one we are now going to see is as gentle as a lamb; before he could call after his mother he must open his lips, and he never says a word.”
+
+“Let us go in, then,” said Aramis, gloomily.
+
+“Are you the architect of the prisons, monsieur?” said the jailer.
+
+“I am.”
+
+“It is odd, then, that you are not more accustomed to all this.”
+
+Aramis perceived that, to avoid giving rise to any suspicions, he must summon all his strength of mind to his assistance. Baisemeaux, who carried the keys, opened the door. “Stay outside,” he said to the jailer, “and wait for us at the bottom of the steps.” The jailer obeyed and withdrew.
+
+Baisemeaux entered first, and opened the second door himself. By the light which filtered through the iron-barred window, could be seen a handsome young man, short in stature, with closely cut hair, and a beard beginning to grow; he was sitting on a stool, his elbow resting on an armchair, and with all the upper part of his body reclining against it. His dress, thrown upon the bed, was of rich black velvet, and he inhaled the fresh air which blew in upon his breast through a shirt of the very finest cambric. As the governor entered, the young man turned his head with a look full of indifference; and on recognizing Baisemeaux, he arose and saluted him courteously. But when his eyes fell upon Aramis, who remained in the background, the latter trembled, turned pale, and his hat, which he held in his hand, fell upon the ground, as if all his muscles had become relaxed at once. Baisemeaux, habituated to the presence of his prisoner, did not seem to share any of the sensations which Aramis experienced, but, with all the zeal of a good servant, he busied himself in arranging on the table the pasty and crawfish he had brought with him. Occupied in this manner, he did not remark how disturbed his guest had become. When he had finished, however, he turned to the young prisoner and said: “You are looking very well, -- are you so?”
+
+“Quite well, I thank you, monsieur,” replied the young man.
+
+The effect of the voice was such as almost to overpower Aramis, and notwithstanding his control over himself, he advanced a few steps towards him, with his eyes wide open and his lips trembling. The movement he made was so marked that Baisemeaux, notwithstanding his preoccupation, observed it. “This gentleman is an architect who has come to examine your chimney,” said Baisemeaux; “does it smoke?”
+
+“Never, monsieur.”
+
+“You were saying just now,” said the governor, rubbing his hands together, “that it was not possible for a man to be happy in prison; here, however, is one who is so. You have nothing to complain of, I hope?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Do you ever feel weary?” said Aramis.
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Ha, ha,” said Baisemeaux, in a low tone of voice; “was I right?”
+
+“Well, my dear governor, it is impossible not to yield to evidence. Is it allowed to put any question to him?”
+
+“As many as you like.”
+
+“Very well; be good enough to ask him if he knows why he is here.”
+
+“This gentleman requests me to ask you,” said Baisemeaux, “if you are aware of the cause of your imprisonment?”
+
+“No, monsieur,” said the young man, unaffectedly, “I am not.”
+
+“That is hardly possible,” said Aramis, carried away by his feelings in spite of himself; “if you were really ignorant of the cause of your detention, you would be furious.”
+
+“I was so during the early days of my imprisonment.”
+
+“Why are you not so now?”
+
+“Because I have reflected.”
+
+“That is strange,” said Aramis.
+
+“Is it not odd?” said Baisemeaux.
+
+“May one venture to ask you, monsieur, on what you have reflected?”
+
+“I felt that as I had committed no crime, Heaven could not punish me.”
+
+“What is a prison, then,” inquired Aramis, “if it be not a punishment.”
+
+“Alas! I cannot tell,” said the young man; “all that I can tell you now is the very opposite of what I felt seven years ago.”
+
+“To hear you converse, to witness your resignation, one might almost believe that you liked your imprisonment?”
+
+“I endure it.”
+
+“In the certainty of recovering your freedom some day, I suppose?”
+
+“I have no certainty; hope, I have, and that is all; and yet I acknowledge that this hope becomes less every day.”
+
+“Still, why should you not again be free, since you have already been so?”
+
+“That is precisely the reason,” replied the young man, “which prevents me from expecting liberty; why should I have been imprisoned at all if it had been intended to release me afterwards?”
+
+“How old are you?”
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+“What is your name?”
+
+“I have forgotten the name by which I was called.”
+
+“Who are your parents?”
+
+“I never knew them.”
+
+“But those who brought you up?”
+
+“They did not call me their son.”
+
+“Did you ever love any one before coming here?”
+
+“I loved my nurse, and my flowers.”
+
+“Was that all?”
+
+“I also loved my valet.”
+
+“Do you regret your nurse and your valet?”
+
+“I wept very much when they died.”
+
+“Did they die since you have been here, or before you came?”
+
+“They died the evening before I was carried off.”
+
+“Both at the same time?”
+
+“Yes, both at the same time.”
+
+“In what manner were you carried off?”
+
+“A man came for me, directed me to get into a carriage, which was closed and locked, and brought me here.”
+
+“Would you be able to recognize that man again?”
+
+“He was masked.”
+
+“Is this not an extraordinary tale?” said Baisemeaux, in a low tone of voice, to Aramis, who could hardly breathe.
+
+“It is indeed extraordinary,” he murmured.
+
+“But what is still more extraordinary is, that he has never told me so much as he has just told you.”
+
+“Perhaps the reason may be that you have never questioned him,” said Aramis.
+
+“It’s possible,” replied Baisemeaux; “I have no curiosity. Have you looked at the room? it’s a fine one, is it not?”
+
+“Very much so.”
+
+“A carpet -- ”
+
+“Beautiful.”
+
+“I’ll wager he had nothing like it before he came here.”
+
+“I think so, too.” And then again turning towards the young man, he said, “Do you not remember to have been visited at some time or another by a strange lady or gentleman?”
+
+“Yes, indeed; thrice by a woman, who each time came to the door in a carriage, and entered covered with a veil, which she raised when we were together and alone.”
+
+“Do you remember that woman?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What did she say to you?”
+
+The young man smiled mournfully, and then replied, “She inquired, as you have just done, if I were happy, and if I were getting weary.”
+
+“What did she do on arriving, and on leaving you?”
+
+“She pressed me in her arms, held me in her embrace, and kissed me.”
+
+“Do you remember her?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Do you recall her features distinctly?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You would recognize her, then, if accident brought her before you, or led you into her person?”
+
+“Most certainly.”
+
+A flush of fleeting satisfaction passed across Aramis’s face. At this moment Baisemeaux heard the jailer approaching. “Shall we leave?” he said, hastily, to Aramis.
+
+Aramis, who probably had learnt all that he cared to know, replied, “When you like.”
+
+The young man saw them prepare to leave, and saluted them politely. Baisemeaux replied merely by a nod of the head, while Aramis, with a respect, arising perhaps from the sight of such misfortune, saluted the prisoner profoundly. They left the room, Baisemeaux closing the door behind them.
+
+“Well,” said Baisemeaux, as they descended the staircase, “what do you think of it all?”
+
+“I have discovered the secret, my dear governor,” he said.
+
+“Bah! what is the secret, then?”
+
+“A murder was committed in that house.”
+
+“Nonsense.”
+
+“But attend; the valet and nurse died the same day.”
+
+“Well.”
+
+“And by poison. What do you think?”
+
+“That is very likely to be true.”
+
+“What! that that young man is an assassin?”
+
+“Who said that? What makes you think that poor young fellow could be an assassin?”
+
+“The very thing I was saying. A crime was committed in his house,” said Aramis, “and that was quite sufficient; perhaps he saw the criminals, and it was feared that he might say something.”
+
+“The deuce! if I only thought that -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“I would redouble the surveillance.”
+
+“Oh, he does not seem to wish to escape.”
+
+“You do not know what prisoners are.”
+
+“Has he any books?”
+
+“None; they are strictly prohibited, and under M. de Mazarin’s own hand.”
+
+“Have you the writing still?”
+
+“Yes, my lord; would you like to look at it as you return to take your cloak?”
+
+“I should, for I like to look at autographs.”
+
+“Well, then, this one is of the most unquestionable authenticity; there is only one erasure.”
+
+“Ah, ah! an erasure; and in what respect?”
+
+“With respect to a figure. At first there was written: ‘To be boarded at fifty francs.’”
+
+“As princes of the blood, in fact?”
+
+“But the cardinal must have seen his mistake, you understand; for he canceled the zero, and has added a one before the five. But, by the by -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“You do not speak of the resemblance.”
+
+“I do not speak of it, dear M. de Baisemeaux, for a very simple reason -- because it does not exist.”
+
+“The deuce it doesn’t.”
+
+“Or, if it does exist, it is only in your own imagination; but, supposing it were to exist elsewhere, I think it would be better for you not to speak of about it.”
+
+“Really.”
+
+“The king, Louis XIV. -- you understand -- would be excessively angry with you, if he were to learn that you contributed in any way to spread the report that one of his subjects has the effrontery to resemble him.”
+
+“It is true, quite true,” said Baisemeaux, thoroughly alarmed; “but I have not spoken of the circumstance to any one but yourself, and you understand, monseigneur, that I perfectly rely on your discretion.”
+
+“Oh, be easy.”
+
+“Do you still wish to see the note?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+While engaged in this manner in conversation, they had returned to the governor’s apartments; Baisemeaux took from the cupboard a private register, like the one he had already shown Aramis, but fastened by a lock, the key which opened it being one of a small bunch which Baisemeaux always carried with him. Then placing the book upon the table, he opened it at the letter “M,” and showed Aramis the following note in the column of observations: “No books at any time; all linen and clothes of the finest and best quality to be procured; no exercise; always the same jailer; no communications with any one. Musical instruments; every liberty and every indulgence which his welfare may require; to be boarded at fifteen francs. M. de Baisemeaux can claim more if the fifteen francs be not sufficient.”
+
+“Ah,” said Baisemeaux, “now I think of it, I shall claim it.”
+
+Aramis shut the book. “Yes,” he said, “it is indeed M. de Mazarin’s handwriting; I recognize it well. Now, my dear governor,” he continued, as if this last communication had exhausted his interest, “let us now turn over to our own little affairs.”
+
+“Well, what time for repayment do you wish me to take? Fix it yourself.”
+
+“There need not be any particular period fixed; give me a simple acknowledgement for one hundred and fifty thousand francs.”
+
+“When to be made payable?”
+
+“When I require it; but, you understand, I shall only wish it when you yourself do.”
+
+“Oh, I am quite easy on that score,” said Baisemeaux, smiling; “but I have already given you two receipts.”
+
+“Which I now destroy,” said Aramis; and after having shown the two receipts to Baisemeaux, he destroyed them. Overcome by so great a mark of confidence, Baisemeaux unhesitatingly wrote out an acknowledgement of a debt of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, payable at the pleasure of the prelate. Aramis, who had, by glancing over the governor’s shoulder, followed the pen as he wrote, put the acknowledgement into his pocket without seeming to have read it, which made Baisemeaux perfectly easy. “Now,” said Aramis, “you will not be angry with me if I were to carry off one of your prisoners?”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“By obtaining his pardon, of course. Have I not already told you that I took a great interest in poor Seldon?”
+
+“Yes, quite true, you did so.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“That is your affair; do as you think proper. I see you have an open hand, and an arm that can reach a great way.”
+
+“Adieu, adieu.” And Aramis left, carrying with him the governor’s best wishes.
+
+Chapter XXVI. The Two Friends.
+
+At the very time M. de Baisemeaux was showing Aramis the prisoners in the Bastile, a carriage drew up at Madame de Belliere’s door, and, at that still early hour, a young woman alighted, her head muffled in a silk hood. When the servants announced Madame Vanel to Madame de Belliere, the latter was engaged, or rather was absorbed, in reading a letter, which she hurriedly concealed. She had hardly finished her morning toilette, her maid being still in the next room. At the name -- at the footsteps of Marguerite Vanel, Madame de Belliere ran to meet her. She fancied she could detect in her friend’s eyes a brightness which was neither that of health nor of pleasure. Marguerite embraced her, pressed her hands, and hardly allowed her time to speak. “Dearest,” she said, “have you forgotten me? Have you quite given yourself up to the pleasures of the court?”
+
+“I have not even seen the marriage fetes.”
+
+“What are you doing with yourself, then?”
+
+“I am getting ready to leave for Belliere.”
+
+“For Belliere?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are becoming rustic in your tastes, then; I delight to see you so disposed. But you are pale.”
+
+“No, I am perfectly well.”
+
+“So much the better; I was becoming uneasy about you. You do not know what I have been told.”
+
+“People say so many things.”
+
+“Yes, but this is very singular.”
+
+“How well you know how to excite curiosity, Marguerite.”
+
+“Well, I was afraid of vexing you.”
+
+“Never; you have yourself always admired me for my evenness of temper.”
+
+“Well, then, it is said that -- no, I shall never be able to tell you.”
+
+“Do not let us talk about it, then,” said Madame de Belliere, who detected the ill-nature that was concealed by all these prefaces, yet felt the most anxious curiosity on the subject.
+
+“Well, then, my dear marquise, it is said, for some time past, you no longer continue to regret Monsieur de Belliere as you used to.”
+
+“It is an ill-natured report, Marguerite. I do regret, and shall always regret, my husband; but it is now two years since he died. I am only twenty-eight years old, and my grief at his loss ought not always to control every action and thought of my life. You, Marguerite, who are the model of a wife, would not believe me if I were to say so.”
+
+“Why not? Your heart is so soft and yielding,” she said, spitefully.
+
+“Yours is so, too, Marguerite, and yet I did not perceive that you allowed yourself to be overcome by grief when your heart was wounded.” These words were in direct allusion to Marguerite’s rupture with the superintendent, and were also a veiled but direct reproach made against her friend’s heart.
+
+As if she only awaited this signal to discharge her shaft, Marguerite exclaimed, “Well, Elise, it is said you are in love.” And she looked fixedly at Madame de Belliere, who blushed against her will.
+
+“Women can never escape slander,” replied the marquise, after a moment’s pause.
+
+“No one slanders you, Elise.”
+
+“What! -- people say that I am in love, and yet they do not slander me!”
+
+“In the first place, if it be true, it is no slander, but simply a scandal-loving report. In the next place -- for you did not allow me to finish what I was saying -- the public does not assert that you have abandoned yourself to this passion. It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuous but loving woman, defending yourself with claws and teeth, shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; in other respects, as impenetrable as that of Danae, notwithstanding Danae’s tower was made of brass.”
+
+“You are witty, Marguerite,” said Madame de Belliere, angrily.
+
+“You always flatter me, Elise. In short, however, you are reported to be incorruptible and unapproachable. You cannot decide whether the world is calumniating you or not; but what is it you are musing about while I am speaking to you?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes; you are blushing and do not answer me.”
+
+“I was trying,” said the marquise, raising her beautiful eyes brightened with an indication of growing temper, “I was trying to discover to what you could possibly have alluded, you who are so learned in mythological subjects, in comparing me to Danae.”
+
+“You were trying to guess that?” said Marguerite, laughing.
+
+“Yes; do you not remember that at the convent, when we were solving our problems in arithmetic -- ah! what I have to tell you is learned also, but it is my turn -- do you not remember, that if one of the terms were given, we were to find the other? Therefore do you guess now?”
+
+“I cannot conjecture what you mean.”
+
+“And yet nothing is more simple. You pretend that I am in love, do you not?”
+
+“So it is said.”
+
+“Very well; it is not said, I suppose, that I am in love with an abstraction. There must surely be a name mentioned in this report.”
+
+“Certainly, a name is mentioned.”
+
+“Very well; it is not surprising, then, that I should try to guess this name, since you do not tell it.”
+
+“My dear marquise, when I saw you blush, I did not think you would have to spend much time in conjectures.”
+
+“It was the word Danae which you used that surprised me. Danae means a shower of gold, does it not?”
+
+“That is to say that the Jupiter of Danae changed himself into a shower of gold for her.”
+
+“My lover, then, he whom you assign me -- ”
+
+“I beg your pardon; I am your friend, and assign you no one.”
+
+“That may be; but those who are ill disposed towards me.”
+
+“Do you wish to hear the name?”
+
+“I have been waiting this half hour for it.”
+
+“Well, then, you shall hear it. Do not be shocked; he is a man high in power.”
+
+“Good,” said the marquise, as she clenched her hands like a patient at the approach of the knife.
+
+“He is a very wealthy man,” continued Marguerite; “the wealthiest, it may be. In a word, it is -- ”
+
+The marquise closed her eyes for a moment.
+
+“It is the Duke of Buckingham,” said Marguerite, bursting into laughter. This perfidy had been calculated with extreme ability; the name that was pronounced, instead of the name which the marquise awaited, had precisely the same effect upon her as the badly sharpened axes, that had hacked, without destroying, Messieurs de Chalais and de Thou upon the scaffold. She recovered herself, however, and said, “I was perfectly right in saying you were a witty woman, for you are making the time pass away most agreeably. This joke is a most amusing one, for I have never seen the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Never?” said Marguerite, restraining her laughter.
+
+“I have never even left my own house since the duke has been at Paris.”
+
+“Oh!” resumed Madame Vanel, stretching out her foot towards a paper which was lying on the carpet near the window; “it is not necessary for people to see each other, since they can write.” The marquise trembled, for this paper was the envelope of the letter she was reading as her friend had entered, and was sealed with the superintendent’s arms. As she leaned back on the sofa on which she was sitting, Madame de Belliere covered the paper with the thick folds of her large silk dress, and so concealed it.
+
+“Come, Marguerite, tell me, is it to tell me all these foolish reports that you have come to see me so early in the day?”
+
+“No; I came to see you, in the first place, and to remind you of those habits of our earlier days, so delightful to remember, when we used to wander about together at Vincennes, and, sitting beneath an oak, or in some sylvan shade, used to talk of those we loved, and who loved us.”
+
+“Do you propose that we should go out together now?”
+
+“My carriage is here, and I have three hours at my disposal.”
+
+“I am not dressed yet, Marguerite; but if you wish that we should talk together, we can, without going to the woods of Vincennes, find in my own garden here, beautiful trees, shady groves, a green sward covered with daisies and violets, the perfume of which can be perceived from where we are sitting.”
+
+“I regret your refusal, my dear marquise, for I wanted to pour out my whole heart into yours.”
+
+“I repeat again, Marguerite, my heart is yours just as much in this room, or beneath the lime-trees in the garden here, as it would be under the oaks in the woods yonder.”
+
+“It is not the same thing for me. In approaching Vincennes, marquise, my ardent aspirations approach nearer to that object towards which they have for some days past been directed.” The marquise suddenly raised her head. “Are you surprised, then, that I am still thinking of Saint-Mande?”
+
+“Of Saint-Mande?” exclaimed Madame de Belliere; and the looks of both women met each other like two resistless swords.
+
+“You, so proud!” said the marquise, disdainfully.
+
+“I, so proud!” replied Madame Vanel. “Such is my nature. I do not forgive neglect -- I cannot endure infidelity. When I leave any one who weeps at my abandonment, I feel induced still to love him; but when others forsake me and laugh at their infidelity, I love distractedly.”
+
+Madame de Belliere could not restrain an involuntary movement.
+
+“She is jealous,” said Marguerite to herself.
+
+“Then,” continued the marquise, “you are quite enamored of the Duke of Buckingham -- I mean of M. Fouquet?” Elise felt the allusion, and her blood seemed to congeal in her heart. “And you wished to go to Vincennes, -- to Saint-Mande, even?”
+
+“I hardly know what I wished: you would have advised me perhaps.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“You have often done so.”
+
+“Most certainly I should not have done so in the present instance, for I do not forgive as you do. I am less loving, perhaps; when my heart has been once wounded, it remains so always.”
+
+“But M. Fouquet has not wounded you,” said Marguerite Vanel, with the most perfect simplicity.
+
+“You perfectly understand what I mean. M. Fouquet has not wounded me; I do not know of either obligation or injury received at his hands, but you have reason to complain of him. You are my friend, and I am afraid I should not advise you as you would like.”
+
+“Ah! you are prejudging the case.”
+
+“The sighs you spoke of just now are more than indications.”
+
+“You overwhelm me,” said the young woman suddenly, as if collecting her whole strength, like a wrestler preparing for a last struggle; “you take only my evil dispositions and my weaknesses into calculation, and do not speak of my pure and generous feelings. If, at this moment, I feel instinctively attracted towards the superintendent, if I even make an advance to him, which, I confess, is very probable, my motive for it is, that M. Fouquet’s fate deeply affects me, and because he is, in my opinion, one of the most unfortunate men living.”
+
+“Ah!” said the marquise, placing her hand upon her heart, “something new, then, has occurred?”
+
+“Do you not know it?”
+
+“I am utterly ignorant of everything about him,” said Madame de Belliere, with the poignant anguish that suspends thought and speech, and even life itself.
+
+“In the first place, then, the king’s favor is entirely withdrawn from M. Fouquet, and conferred on M. Colbert.”
+
+“So it is stated.”
+
+“It is very clear, since the discovery of the plot of Belle-Isle.”
+
+“I was told that the discovery of the fortifications there had turned out to M. Fouquet’s honor.”
+
+Marguerite began to laugh in so cruel a manner that Madame de Belliere could at that moment have delightedly plunged a dagger in her bosom. “Dearest,” continued Marguerite, “there is no longer any question of M. Fouquet’s honor; his safety is concerned. Before three days are passed the ruin of the superintendent will be complete.”
+
+“Stay,” said the marquise, in her turn smiling, “that is going a little fast.”
+
+“I said three days, because I wish to deceive myself with a hope; but probably the catastrophe will be complete within twenty-four hours.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“For the simplest of all reasons, -- that M. Fouquet has no more money.”
+
+“In matters of finance, my dear Marguerite, some are without money to-day, who to-morrow can procure millions.”
+
+“That might be M. Fouquet’s case when he had two wealthy and clever friends who amassed money for him, and wrung it from every possible or impossible source; but those friends are dead.”
+
+“Money does not die, Marguerite; it may be concealed, but it can be looked for, bought and found.”
+
+“You see things on the bright side, and so much the better for you. It is really very unfortunate that you are not the Egeria of M. Fouquet; you might now show him the source whence he could obtain the millions which the king asked him for yesterday.”
+
+“Millions!” said the marquise, in terror.
+
+“Four -- an even number.”
+
+“Infamous!” murmured Madame de Belliere, tortured by her friend’s merciless delight.
+
+“M. Fouquet, I should think, must certainly have four millions,” she replied, courageously.
+
+“If he has those which the king requires to-day,” said Marguerite, “he will not, perhaps, possess those which the king will demand in a month or so.”
+
+“The king will exact money from him again, then?”
+
+“No doubt; and that is my reason for saying that the ruin of poor M. Fouquet is inevitable. Pride will induce him to furnish the money, and when he has no more, he will fall.”
+
+“It is true,” said the marquise, trembling; “the plan is a bold one; but tell me, does M. Colbert hate M. Fouquet so very much?”
+
+“I think he does not like him. M. Colbert is powerful; he improves on close acquaintance; he has gigantic ideas, a strong will, and discretion; he will rise.”
+
+“He will be superintendent?”
+
+“It is probable. Such is the reason, my dear marquise, why I felt myself impressed in favor of that poor man, who once loved, and even adored me; and why, when I see him so unfortunate, I forgive his infidelity, which I have reason to believe he also regrets; and why, moreover, I should not have been disinclined to afford him some consolation, or some good advice; he would have understood the step I had taken, and would have thought kindly of me for it. It is gratifying to be loved, you know. Men value love more highly when they are no longer blinded by its influence.”
+
+The marquise, bewildered and overcome by these cruel attacks, which had been calculated with the greatest nicety and precision, hardly knew what to answer in return; she even seemed to have lost all power of thought. Her perfidious friend’s voice had assumed the most affectionate tone; she spoke as a woman, but concealed the instincts of a wolf.
+
+“Well,” said Madame de Belliere, who had a vague hope that Marguerite would cease to overwhelm a vanquished enemy, “why do you not go and see M. Fouquet?”
+
+“Decidedly, marquise, you have made me reflect. No, it would be unbecoming for me to make the first advance. M. Fouquet no doubt loves me, but he is too proud. I cannot expose myself to an affront.... besides, I have my husband to consider. You tell me nothing? Very well, I shall consult M. Colbert on the subject.” Marguerite rose smilingly, as though to take leave, but the marquise had not the strength to imitate her. Marguerite advanced a few paces, in order that she might continue to enjoy the humiliating grief in which her rival was plunged, and then said, suddenly, -- “You do not accompany me to the door, then?” The marquise rose, pale and almost lifeless, without thinking of the envelope, which had occupied her attention so greatly at the commencement of the conversation, and which was revealed at the first step she took. She then opened the door of her oratory, and without even turning her head towards Marguerite Vanel, entered it, closing the door after her. Marguerite said, or rather muttered a few words, which Madame de Belliere did not even hear. As soon, however, as the marquise had disappeared, her envious enemy, not being able to resist the desire to satisfy herself that her suspicions were well founded, advanced stealthily like a panther, and seized the envelope. “Ah!” she said, gnashing her teeth, “it was indeed a letter from M. Fouquet she was reading when I arrived,” and then darted out of the room. During this interval, the marquise, having arrived behind the rampart, as it were, of her door, felt that her strength was failing her; for a moment she remained rigid, pale and motionless as a statue, and then, like a statue shaken on its base by an earthquake, tottered and fell inanimate on the carpet. The noise of the fall resounded at the same moment as the rolling of Marguerite’s carriage leaving the hotel.
+
+Chapter XXVII. Madame de Belliere’s Plate.
+
+The blow had been the more painful on account of its being unexpected. It was some time before the marquise recovered herself; but once recovered, she began to reflect upon the events so heartlessly announced to her. She therefore returned, at the risk even of losing her life in the way, to that train of ideas which her relentless friend had forced her to pursue. Treason, then -- deep menaces, concealed under the semblance of public interest -- such were Colbert’s maneuvers. A detestable delight at an approaching downfall, untiring efforts to attain this object, means of seduction no less wicked than the crime itself -- such were the weapons Marguerite employed. The crooked atoms of Descartes triumphed; to the man without compassion was united a woman without heart. The marquise perceived, with sorrow rather than indignation, that the king was an accomplice in the plot which betrayed the duplicity of Louis XIII. in his advanced age, and the avarice of Mazarin at a period of life when he had not had the opportunity of gorging himself with French gold. The spirit of this courageous woman soon resumed its energy, no longer overwhelmed by indulgence in compassionate lamentations. The marquise was not one to weep when action was necessary, nor to waste time in bewailing a misfortune as long as means still existed of relieving it. For some minutes she buried her face in her cold fingers, and then, raising her head, rang for her attendants with a steady hand, and with a gesture betraying a fixed determination of purpose. Her resolution was taken.
+
+“Is everything prepared for my departure?” she inquired of one of her female attendants who entered.
+
+“Yes, madame; but it was not expected that your ladyship would leave for Belliere for the next few days.”
+
+“All my jewels and articles of value, then, are packed up?”
+
+“Yes, madame; but hitherto we have been in the habit of leaving them in Paris. Your ladyship does not generally take your jewels with you into the country.”
+
+“But they are all in order, you say?”
+
+“Yes, in your ladyship’s own room.”
+
+“The gold plate?”
+
+“In the chest.”
+
+“And the silver plate?”
+
+“In the great oak closet.”
+
+The marquise remained silent for a few moments, and then said calmly, “Let my goldsmith be sent for.”
+
+Her attendants quitted the room to execute the order. The marquise, however, had entered her own room, and was inspecting her casket of jewels with the greatest attention. Never, until now, had she bestowed such close attention upon riches in which women take so much pride; never, until now, had she looked at her jewels, except for the purpose of making a selection according to their settings or their colors. On this occasion, however, she admired the size of the rubies and the brilliancy of the diamonds; she grieved over every blemish and every defect; she thought the gold light, and the stones wretched. The goldsmith, as he entered, found her thus occupied. “M. Faucheux,” she said, “I believe you supplied me with my gold service?”
+
+“I did, your ladyship.”
+
+“I do not now remember the amount of the account.”
+
+“Of the new service, madame, or of that which M. de Belliere presented to you on your marriage? for I have furnished both.”
+
+“First of all, the new one.”
+
+“The covers, the goblets, and the dishes, with their covers, the eau-epergne, the ice-pails, the dishes for the preserves, and the tea and coffee urns, cost your ladyship sixty thousand francs.”
+
+“No more?”
+
+“Your ladyship thought the account very high.”
+
+“Yes, yes; I remember, in fact, that it was dear; but it was the workmanship, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes, madame; the designs, the chasings -- all new patterns.”
+
+“What proportion of the cost does the workmanship form? Do not hesitate to tell me.”
+
+“A third of its value, madame.”
+
+“There is the other service, the old one, that which belonged to my husband?”
+
+“Yes, madame; there is less workmanship in that than in the other. Its intrinsic value does not exceed thirty thousand francs.”
+
+“Thirty thousand,” murmured the marquise. “But, M. Faucheux, there is also the service which belonged to my mother; all that massive plate which I did not wish to part with, on account of the associations connected with it.”
+
+“Ah! madame, that would indeed be an excellent resource for those who, unlike your ladyship, might not be in position to keep their plate. In chasing that they worked in solid metal. But that service is no longer in fashion. Its weight is its only advantage.”
+
+“That is all I care about. How much does it weigh?”
+
+“Fifty thousand livres at the very least. I do not allude to the enormous vases for the buffet, which alone weigh five thousand livres, or ten thousand the pair.”
+
+“One hundred and thirty,” murmured the marquise. “You are quite sure of your figures, M. Faucheux?”
+
+“The amount is entered in my books. Your ladyship is extremely methodical, I am aware.”
+
+“Let us now turn to another subject,” said Madame de Belliere; and she opened one of her jewel-boxes.
+
+“I recognize these emeralds,” said M. Faucheux; “for it was I who had the setting of them. They are the most beautiful in the whole court. No, I am mistaken; Madame de Chatillon has the most beautiful set; she had them from Messieurs de Guise; but your set, madame, comes next.”
+
+“What are they worth?”
+
+“Mounted?”
+
+“No; supposing I wished to sell them.”
+
+“I know very well who would buy them,” exclaimed M. Faucheux.
+
+“That is the very thing I ask. They could be sold, then?”
+
+“All your jewels could be sold, madame. It is well known that you possess the most beautiful jewels in Paris. You are not changeable in your tastes; when you make a purchase it is of the very best; and what you purchase you do not part with.”
+
+“What could these emeralds be sold for, then?”
+
+“A hundred and thirty thousand francs.”
+
+The marquise wrote down upon her tablets the amount which the jeweler mentioned. “The ruby necklace?” she said.
+
+“Are they balas-rubies, madame?”
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+“They are beautiful -- magnificent. I did not know your ladyship had these stones.”
+
+“What is their value?”
+
+“Two hundred thousand francs. The center one is alone worth a hundred thousand.”
+
+“I thought so,” said the marquise. “As for diamonds, I have them in numbers; rings, necklaces, sprigs, ear-rings, clasps. Tell me their value, M. Faucheux.”
+
+The jeweler took his magnifying-glass and scales, weighed and inspected them, and silently made his calculations. “These stones,” he said, “must have cost your ladyship an income of forty thousand francs.”
+
+“You value them at eight hundred thousand francs?”
+
+“Nearly so.”
+
+“It is about what I imagined -- but the settings are not included?”
+
+“No, madame; but if I were called upon to sell or to buy, I should be satisfied with the gold of the settings alone as my profit upon the transaction. I should make a good twenty-five thousand francs.”
+
+“An agreeable sum.”
+
+“Very much so, madame.”
+
+“Will you then accept that profit, then, on condition of converting the jewels into money?”
+
+“But you do not intend to sell you diamonds, I suppose, madame?” exclaimed the bewildered jeweler.
+
+“Silence, M. Faucheux, do not disturb yourself about that; give me an answer simply. You are an honorable man, with whom my family has dealt for thirty years; you knew my father and mother, whom your own father and mother served. I address you as a friend; will you accept the gold of the settings in return for a sum of ready money to be placed in my hands?”
+
+“Eight hundred thousand francs! it is enormous.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“Impossible to find.”
+
+“Not so.”
+
+“But reflect, madame, upon the effect which will be produced by the sale of your jewels.”
+
+“No one need know it. You can get sets of false jewels made for me, similar to the real. Do not answer a word; I insist upon it. Sell them separately, sell the stones only.”
+
+“In that way it is easy. Monsieur is looking out for some sets of jewels as well as single stones for Madame’s toilette. There will be a competition for them. I can easily dispose of six hundred thousand francs’ worth to Monsieur. I am certain yours are the most beautiful.”
+
+“When can you do so?”
+
+“In less than three days’ time.”
+
+“Very well, the remainder you will dispose of among private individuals. For the present, make me out a contract of sale, payment to be made in four days.”
+
+“I entreat you to reflect, madame; for if you force the sale, you will lose a hundred thousand francs.”
+
+“If necessary, I will lose two hundred; I wish everything to be settled this evening. Do you accept?”
+
+“I do, your ladyship. I will not conceal from you that I shall make fifty thousand francs by the transaction.”
+
+“So much the better for you. In what way shall I have the money?”
+
+“Either in gold, or in bills of the bank of Lyons, payable at M. Colbert’s.”
+
+“I agree,” said the marquise, eagerly; “return home and bring the sum in question in notes, as soon as possible.”
+
+“Yes, madame, but for Heaven’s sake -- ”
+
+“Not a word, M. Faucheux. By the by, I was forgetting the silver plate. What is the value of that which I have?”
+
+“Fifty thousand francs, madame.”
+
+“That makes a million,” said the marquise to herself. “M. Faucheux, you will take away with you both the gold and silver plate. I can assign, as a pretext, that I wish it remodeled on patters more in accordance with my own taste. Melt it down, and return me its value in money, at once.”
+
+“It shall be done, your ladyship.”
+
+“You will be good enough to place the money in a chest, and direct one of your clerks to accompany the chest, and without my servants seeing him; and order him to wait for me in a carriage.”
+
+“In Madame de Faucheux’s carriage?” said the jeweler.
+
+“If you will allow it, and I will call for it at your house.”
+
+“Certainly, your ladyship.”
+
+“I will direct some of my servants to convey the plate to your house.” The marquise rung. “Let the small van be placed at M. Faucheux’s disposal,” she said. The jeweler bowed and left the house, directing that the van should follow him closely, saying aloud, that the marquise was about to have her plate melted down in order to have other plate manufactured of a more modern style. Three hours afterwards she went to M. Faucheux’s house and received from him eight hundred francs in gold inclosed in a chest, which one of the clerks could hardly carry towards Madame Faucheux’s carriage -- for Madame Faucheux kept her carriage. As the daughter of a president of accounts, she had brought a marriage portion of thirty thousand crowns to her husband, who was syndic of the goldsmiths. These thirty thousand crowns had become very fruitful during twenty years. The jeweler, though a millionaire, was a modest man. He had purchased a substantial carriage, built in 1648, ten years after the king’s birth. This carriage, or rather house upon wheels, excited the admiration of the whole quarter in which he resided -- it was covered with allegorical paintings, and clouds scattered over with stars. The marquise entered this somewhat extraordinary vehicle, sitting opposite the clerk, who endeavored to put his knees out of the way, afraid even of touching the marquise’s dress. It was the clerk, too, who told the coachman, who was very proud of having a marquise to drive, to take the road to Saint-Mande.
+
+Chapter XXVIII. The Dowry.
+
+Monsieur Faucheux’s horses were serviceable animals, with thickset knees and legs that had some difficulty in moving. Like the carriage, they belonged to the earlier part of the century. They were not as fleet as the English horses of M. Fouquet, and consequently it took two hours to get to Saint-Mande. Their progress, it might be said, was majestic. Majesty, however, precludes hurry. The marquise stopped the carriage at the door so well known to her, although she had seen it only once, under circumstances, it will now be remembered, no less painful than those which brought her now to it again. She drew a key from her pocket, and inserted it into the lock, pushed open the door, which noiselessly yielded to her touch, and directed the clerk to carry the chest upstairs to the first floor. The weight of the chest was so great that the clerk was obliged to get the coachman to assist him with it. They placed it in a small cabinet, ante-room, or boudoir rather, adjoining the saloon where we once saw M. Fouquet at the marquise’s feet. Madame de Belliere gave the coachman a louis, smiled gracefully at the clerk, and dismissed them both. She closed the door after them, and waited in the room, alone and barricaded. There was no servant to be seen about the rooms, but everything was prepared as though some invisible genius had divined the wishes and desires of an expected guest. The fire was laid, candles in the candelabra, refreshments upon the table, books scattered about, fresh-cut flowers in the vases. One might almost have imagined it an enchanted house.
+
+The marquise lighted the candles, inhaled the perfume of the flowers, sat down, and was soon plunged in profound thought. Her deep musings, melancholy though they were, were not untinged with a certain vague joy. Spread out before her was a treasure, a million wrung from her fortune as a gleaner plucks the blue corn-flower from her crown of flowers. She conjured up the sweetest dreams. Her principal thought, and one that took precedence of all others, was to devise means of leaving this money for M. Fouquet without his possibly learning from whom the gift had come. This idea, naturally enough, was the first to present itself to her mind. But although, on reflection, it appeared difficult to carry out, she did not despair of success. She would then ring to summon M. Fouquet and make her escape, happier than if, instead of having given a million, she had herself found one. But, being there, and having seen the boudoir so coquettishly decorated that it might almost be said the least particle of dust had but the moment before been removed by the servants; having observed the drawing-room, so perfectly arranged that it might almost be said her presence there had driven away the fairies who were its occupants, she asked herself if the glance or gaze of those whom she had displaced -- whether spirits, fairies, elves, or human creatures -- had not already recognized her. To secure success, it was necessary that some steps should be seriously taken, and it was necessary also that the superintendent should comprehend the serious position in which he was placed, in order to yield compliance with the generous fancies of a woman; all the fascinations of an eloquent friendship would be required to persuade him, and, should this be insufficient, the maddening influence of a devoted passion, which, in its resolute determination to carry conviction, would not be turned aside. Was not the superintendent, indeed, known for his delicacy and dignity of feeling? Would he allow himself to accept from any woman that of which she had stripped herself? No! He would resist, and if any voice in the world could overcome his resistance, it would be the voice of the woman he loved.
+
+Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it not the same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness of conduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tears when they have gained a victory? “I must learn if it be so, and must judge of that for myself,” said the marquise. “Who can tell whether that heart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Who can tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will not be found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come,” she said, “this is doubting and hesitation too much -- to the proof,” she said, looking at the timepiece. “It is now seven o’clock,” she said; “he must have arrived; it is the hour for signing his papers.” With a feverish impatience she rose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolute smile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle of the bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had just undergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, before a large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The door moved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, and seemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did not hurry, but simply came at the summons. The preoccupation of his mind must indeed have been very great, that a man, so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summons so listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifference of expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of his mouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace in front of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, the looks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixed upon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approached in search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, this smiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessive joy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who was regarding him at a distance.
+
+A woman’s eye can read the face of the man she loves, its every feeling of pride, its every expression of suffering; it might almost be said that Heaven has graciously granted to women, on account of their very weakness, more than it has accorded to other creatures. They can conceal their own feelings from a man, but from them no man can conceal his. The marquise divined in a single glace the whole weight of the unhappiness of the superintendent. She divined a night passed without sleep, a day passed in deceptions. From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else. She arose and approached him, saying, “You wrote to me this morning to say you were beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I can read in your eyes.”
+
+“What is that, madame?” said Fouquet, astonished.
+
+“That you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the same manner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have not forgotten you.”
+
+“Oh! madame,” said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up by a sudden gleam of joy, “you are indeed an angel, and no man can suspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreat forgiveness.”
+
+“Your forgiveness is granted, then,” said the marquise. Fouquet was about to throw himself upon his knees. “No, no,” she said, “sit here by my side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind.”
+
+“How do you detect it, madame?”
+
+“By the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance. Be candid, and tell me what your thought was -- no secrets between friends.”
+
+“Tell me, then, madame, why you have been so harsh these three or four months past?”
+
+“Harsh?”
+
+“Yes; did you not forbid me to visit you?”
+
+“Alas!” said Madame de Belliere, sighing, “because your visit to me was the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because my house is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already might see you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I should come here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, because I know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase your unhappiness further.”
+
+Fouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connected with his office of superintendent -- he who, for the last few minutes, had indulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. “I unhappy?” he said, endeavoring to smile: “indeed, marquise, you will almost make me believe I am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raised upon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them.”
+
+“It is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there -- it is yourself.”
+
+“It is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; the king yesterday required a supply of money from me.”
+
+“Yes, four millions; I am aware of it.”
+
+“You know it?” exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; “how can you have learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in the presence of one person only, that the king -- ”
+
+“You perceive that I do know it; is that not sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply -- ”
+
+“You understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, then to get it counted, afterwards registered -- altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin’s death, financial affairs occasion some little fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhat overtaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the past night.”
+
+“So you have the amount?” inquired the marquise, with some anxiety.
+
+“It would indeed be strange, marquise,” replied Fouquet, cheerfully, “if a superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions in his coffers.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them.”
+
+“What do you mean by saying I shall have them?”
+
+“It is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions.”
+
+“On the contrary, it seems almost an age; but do not let us talk of money matters any longer.”
+
+“On the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my only reason for coming to see you.”
+
+“I am at a loss to compass your meaning,” said the superintendent, whose eyes began to express an anxious curiosity.
+
+“Tell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanent position?”
+
+“You surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motive or interest in putting the question.”
+
+“My reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in your hands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post.”
+
+“Really, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive your meaning.”
+
+“Seriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, I have certain funds which somewhat embarrass me. I am tired of investing my money in lands, and am anxious to intrust it to some friend who will turn it to account.”
+
+“Surely it does not press,” said M. Fouquet.
+
+“On the contrary, it is very pressing.”
+
+“Very well, we will talk of that by and by.”
+
+“By and by will not do, for my money is there,” returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as she opened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who had risen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remained for a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turned pale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. “Madame, madame,” he murmured, “what opinion can you have of me, when you make me such an offer?”
+
+“Of you!” returned the marquise. “Tell me, rather, what you yourself think of the step I have taken.”
+
+“You bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you know me to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can I not read your heart?”
+
+“If you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offer you?”
+
+“I have guessed rightly, then,” exclaimed Fouquet. “In truth, madame, I have never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner.”
+
+“Insult you,” she said, turning pale, “what singular delicacy of feeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wish me to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you money which is my own, you refuse me.”
+
+“Madame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputation and your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leave me to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneath the faults I have committed, beneath the load, even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven’s sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this last infliction.”
+
+“A short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now you are wanting in feeling.”
+
+Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: “overwhelm me, madame, for I have nothing to reply.”
+
+“I offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet.”
+
+“Yes, madame, and you limited yourself to that.”
+
+“And what I am now doing is the act of a friend.”
+
+“No doubt it is.”
+
+“And you reject this mark of my friendship?”
+
+“I do reject it.”
+
+“Monsieur Fouquet, look at me,” said the marquise, with glistening eyes, “I now offer you my love.”
+
+“Oh, madame,” exclaimed Fouquet.
+
+“I have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you.”
+
+“Oh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness.”
+
+“Will you be happy, then, if I am yours -- entirely?”
+
+“It will be the supremest happiness for me.”
+
+“Take me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple.”
+
+“Do not tempt me.”
+
+“Do not refuse me.”
+
+“Think seriously of what you are proposing.”
+
+“Fouquet, but one word. Let it be ‘No,’ and I open this door,” and she pointed to the door which led into the streets, “and you will never see me again. Let that word be ‘Yes,’ and I am yours entirely.”
+
+“Elise! Elise! But this coffer?”
+
+“Contains my dowry.”
+
+“It is your ruin,” exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; “there must be a million here.”
+
+“Yes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you.”
+
+“This is too much,” exclaimed Fouquet. “I yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry.”
+
+“And take the woman with it,” said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.
+
+Chapter XXIX. Le Terrain de Dieu.
+
+During the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, so that the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit to Monsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, had been paid collectively -- a precaution on the part of the queen-mother which saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing the luggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he set off in his traveling carriage with his attendants.
+
+De Wardes, irritated at finding himself dragged away in so abrupt a manner by this Englishman, had sought in his subtle mind for some means of escaping from his fetters; but no one having rendered him any assistance in this respect, he was absolutely obliged, therefore, to submit to the burden of his own evil thoughts and caustic spirit.
+
+Such of his friends in whom he had been able to confide, had, in their character of wits, rallied him upon the duke’s superiority. Others, less brilliant, but more sensible, had reminded him of the king’s orders prohibiting dueling. Others, again, and they the larger number, who, in virtue of charity, or national vanity, might have rendered him assistance, did not care to run the risk of incurring disgrace, and would, at the best, have informed the ministers of a departure which might end in a massacre on a small scale. The result was, that, after having fully deliberated upon the matter, De Wardes packed up his luggage, took a couple of horses, and, followed only by one servant, made his way towards the barrier, where Buckingham’s carriage was to await him.
+
+The duke received his adversary as he would have done an intimate acquaintance, made room beside him on the same seat with himself, offered him refreshments, and spread over his knees the sable cloak that had been thrown on the front seat. They then conversed of the court, without alluding to Madame; of Monsieur, without speaking of domestic affairs; of the king, without speaking of his brother’s wife; of the queen-mother, without alluding to her daughter-in-law; of the king of England, without alluding to his sister; of the state of the affections of either of the travelers, without pronouncing any name that might be dangerous. In this way the journey, which was performed by short stages, was most agreeable, and Buckingham, almost a Frenchman from wit and education, was delighted at having so admirably selected his traveling companion. Elegant repasts were served, of which they partook but lightly; trials of horses made in the beautiful meadows that skirted the road; coursing indulged in, for Buckingham had his greyhounds with him; and in such ways did they pass away the pleasant time. The duke somewhat resembled the beautiful river Seine, which folds France a thousand times in its loving embrace, before deciding upon joining its waters with the ocean. In quitting France, it was her recently adopted daughter he had brought to Paris whom he chiefly regretted; his every thought was a remembrance of her -- his every memory a regret. Therefore, whenever, now and then, despite his command over himself, he was lost in thought, De Wardes left him entirely to his musings. This delicacy might have touched Buckingham, and changed his feelings towards De Wardes, if the latter, while preserving silence, had shown a glance less full of malice, and a smile less false. Instinctive dislikes, however, are relentless; nothing appeases them; a few ashes may, sometimes, apparently, extinguish them; but beneath those ashes the smothered embers rage more furiously. Having exhausted every means of amusement the route offered, they arrived, as we have said, at Calais towards the end of the sixth day. The duke’s attendants, since the previous evening, had traveled in advance, and now chartered a boat, for the purpose of joining the yacht, which had been tacking about in sight, or bore broadside on, whenever it felt its white wings wearied, within cannon-shot of the jetty.
+
+The boat was destined for the transport of the duke’s equipages from the shore to the yacht. The horses had been embarked, having been hoisted from the boat upon the deck in baskets, expressly made for the purpose, and wadded in such a manner that their limbs, even in the most violent fits of terror or impatience, were always protected by the soft support which the sides afforded, and their coats not even turned. Eight of these baskets, placed side by side, filled the ship’s hold. It is well known that, in short voyages horses refuse to eat, but remain trembling all the while, with the best of food before them, such as they would have greatly coveted on land. By degrees, the duke’s entire equipage was transported on board the yacht; he was then informed that everything was in readiness, and that they only waited for him, whenever he would be disposed to embark with the French gentleman; for no one could possibly imagine that the French gentleman would have any other accounts to settle with his Grace other than those of friendship. Buckingham desired the captain to be told to hold himself in readiness, but that, as the sea was beautiful, and as the day promised a splendid sunset, he did not intend to go on board until nightfall, and would avail himself of the evening to enjoy a walk on the strand. He added also, that, finding himself in such excellent company, he had not the least desire to hasten his embarkation.
+
+As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him the magnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in the horizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun’s disc to the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds was tinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading away into opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried from base to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and upon the crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like a diamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, so dear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing in delicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yacht with its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky -- while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with their trimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such a spectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlers followed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistook the steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As for Buckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, and doublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than De Wardes, who was in black, like an attorney.
+
+The duke’s attendants had received directions to have a boat in readiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of their master, without approaching him until either he or his friend should summon them, -- “whatever may happen,” he had added, laying a stress upon these words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked a few paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, “I think it is now time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising; ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walking in such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing.”
+
+“I await your orders, my lord, but -- ”
+
+“But, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king’s territory.”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“Well, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circle of water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is gradually disappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situated between two seas, and is not shown on the king’s charts. Do you observe it?”
+
+“Yes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet.”
+
+“Yes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that the tide rises up on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirably placed upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?”
+
+“I shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing my sword with your lordship’s.”
+
+“Very well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting your feet, M. de Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to say to the king: ‘Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty’s territory.’ Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, your nation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complain of this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a style peculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, for the sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in.”
+
+“My reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precede your Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?”
+
+“Yes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall be drowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark how curiously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes me feel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?”
+
+“You will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you will have the sun full in your face.”
+
+“Oh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear; do not be uneasy on that score.”
+
+“As you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordship that I made the remark.”
+
+“I am aware of that, M. de Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?”
+
+“As you please, my lord.”
+
+“Do not hesitate to tell me, M. de Wardes, if you do not feel comfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little too close to French territory. We could fight in England, or even upon my yacht.”
+
+“We are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor to remark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time -- ”
+
+Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it on the ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from the shore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-colored shadow with which the sky became overspread.
+
+“Upon my word, your Grace,” said De Wardes, “we shall hardly have time to begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?”
+
+“I have sunk up to the ankles,” said Buckingham, “without reckoning that the water is even now breaking in upon us.”
+
+“It has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, your Grace,” said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by the duke.
+
+“M. de Wardes,” said Buckingham, “one final word. I am about to fight you because I do not like you, -- because you have wounded me in ridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one which I acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which I would very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. de Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work great mischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. de Wardes,” concluded Buckingham as he saluted him.
+
+“And I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked you hitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and will do all I possibly can to kill you;” and De Wardes saluted Buckingham.
+
+Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightning on a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed their position, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passes were without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was so dark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his word arrested, -- he had just touched Buckingham’s shoulder. The duke’s sword sunk, as his arm was lowered.
+
+“You are wounded, my lord,” said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two.
+
+“Yes, monsieur, but only slightly.”
+
+“Yet you quitted your guard.”
+
+“Only from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please.” And disengaging his sword with a sinister clashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast.
+
+“A hit?” he said.
+
+“No,” cried De Wardes, not moving from his place.
+
+“I beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained -- ” said Buckingham.
+
+“Well,” said De Wardes furiously, “it is now your turn.”
+
+And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham’s arm, the sword passing between the two bones. Buckingham feeling his right arm paralyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was about falling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume his guard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his knees gave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke’s arm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a more genuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. De Wardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, for the sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effort and an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in his arm, and turning towards De Wardes said, “Are you dead, marquis?”
+
+“No,” replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushed from his lungs to his throat, “but very near it.”
+
+“Well, what is to be done; can you walk?” said Buckingham, supporting him on his knee.
+
+“Impossible,” he replied. Then falling down again, said, “call to your people, or I shall be drowned.”
+
+“Halloa! boat there! quick, quick!”
+
+The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boat could approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of being again covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist, but did not move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonist towards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried him beneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes were discovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At this moment four of the duke’s sailors, who comprehended the danger, threw themselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Their terror was extreme when they observed how their master became covered with blood, in proportion to the water, with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him.
+
+“No, no,” exclaimed the duke, “take the marquis on shore first.”
+
+“Death to the Frenchman!” cried the English sullenly.
+
+“Wretched knaves!” exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughty gesture, which sprinkled them with blood, “obey directly! M. de Wardes on shore! M. de Wardes’s safety to be looked to first, or I will have you all hanged!”
+
+The boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leaped into the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any sign of life.
+
+“I commit him to your care, as you value your lives,” said the duke. “Take M. de Wardes on shore.” They took him in their arms, and carried him to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlers and five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by the strange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a wounded man, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The English transferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter began to open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got into his wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke’s secretary drew out a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the one among those present who appeared of most importance, saying: “From my master, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possible care may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes.”
+
+Then, followed by those who had accompanied him, he returned to the boat, which Buckingham had been enabled to reach with the greatest difficulty, but only after he had seen De Wardes out of danger. By this time it was high tide; embroidered coats, and silk sashes were lost; many hats, too, had been carried away by the waves. The flow of the tide had borne the duke’s and De Wardes’s clothes to the shore, and De Wardes was wrapped in the duke’s doublet, under the belief that it was his own, when the fishermen carried him in their arms towards the town.
+
+Chapter XXX. Threefold Love.
+
+As soon as Buckingham departed, Guiche imagined the coast would be perfectly clear for him without any interference. Monsieur, who no longer retained the slightest feeling of jealousy, and who, besides, permitted himself to be monopolized by the Chevalier de Lorraine, allowed as much liberty and freedom in his house as the most exacting could desire. The king, on his side, who had conceived a strong predilection for his sister-in-law’s society, invented a variety of amusements, in quick succession to each other, in order to render her residence in Paris as cheerful as possible, so that in fact, not a day passed without a ball at the Palais Royal, or a reception in Monsieur’s apartments. The king had directed that Fontainebleau should be prepared for the reception of the court, and every one was using his utmost interest to get invited. Madame led a life of incessant occupation; neither her voice nor her pen were idle for a moment. The conversations with De Guiche were gradually assuming a tone of interest which might unmistakably be recognized as the prelude of a deep-seated attachment. When eyes look languishingly while the subject under discussion happens to be colors of materials for dresses; when a whole hour is occupied in analyzing the merits and the perfume of a sachet or a flower; -- there are words in this style of conversation which every one might listen to, but there are gestures and sighs that every one cannot perceive. After Madame had talked for some time with De Guiche, she conversed with the king, who paid her a visit regularly every day. They played, wrote verses, or selected mottoes or emblematical devices; this spring was not only the Maytide of nature, it was the youth of an entire people, of which those at court were the head. The king was handsome, young, and of unequaled gallantry. All women were passionately loved by him, even the queen, his wife. This mighty monarch was, however, more timid and more reserved than any other person in the kingdom, to such a degree, indeed, that he did not confess his sentiments even to himself. This timidity of bearing restrained him within the limits of ordinary politeness, and no woman could boast of having any preference shown her beyond that shown to others. It might be foretold that the day when his real character would be displayed would be the dawn of a new sovereignty; but as yet he had not declared himself. M. de Guiche took advantage of this, and constituted himself the sovereign prince of the whole laughter-loving court. It had been reported that he was on the best of terms with Mademoiselle de Montalais; that he had been assiduously attentive to Mademoiselle de Chatillon; but now he was not even barely civil to any of the court beauties. He had eyes and ears for one person alone. In this manner, and, as it were, without design, he devoted himself to Monsieur, who had a great regard for him, and kept him as much as possible in his own apartments. Unsociable from natural disposition, he had estranged himself too much previous to the arrival of Madame, but, after her arrival, he did not estrange himself sufficiently. This conduct, which every one had observed, had been particularly remarked by the evil genius of the house, the Chevalier de Lorraine, for whom Monsieur exhibited the warmest attachment because he was of a very cheerful disposition, even in his remarks most full of malice, and because he was never at a loss how to wile the time away. The Chevalier de Lorraine, therefore, having noticed that he was threatened with being supplanted by De Guiche, resorted to strong measures. He disappeared from the court, leaving Monsieur much embarrassed. The first day of his absence, Monsieur hardly inquired about him, for he had De Guiche with him, and, except that the time given to conversation with Madame, his days and nights were rigorously devoted to the prince. On the second day, however, Monsieur, finding no one near him, inquired where the chevalier was. He was told that no one knew.
+
+De Guiche, after having spent the morning in selecting embroideries and fringes with Madame, went to console the prince. But after dinner, as there were some amethysts to be looked at, De Guiche returned to Madame’s cabinet. Monsieur was left quite to himself during the time devoted to dressing and decorating himself; he felt that he was the most miserable of men, and again inquired whether there was any news of the chevalier, in reply to which he was told that no one could tell where the chevalier was to be found. Monsieur, hardly knowing in what direction to inflict his weariness, went to Madame’s apartments dressed in his morning-gown. He found a large assemblage of people there, laughing and whispering in every part of the room; at one end, a group of women around one of the courtiers, talking together, amid smothered bursts of laughter; at the other end, Manicamp and Malicorne were being pillaged at cards by Montalais and Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, while two others were standing by, laughing. In another part were Madame, seated upon some cushions on the floor, and De Guiche, on his knees beside her, spreading out a handful of pearls and precious stones, while the princess, with her white and slender fingers pointed out such among them as pleased her the most. Again, in another corner of the room, a guitar player was playing some of the Spanish seguedillas, to which Madame had taken the greatest fancy ever since she had heard them sung by the young queen with a melancholy expression of voice. But the songs which the Spanish princess had sung with tears in her eyes, the young Englishwoman was humming with a smile that well displayed her beautiful teeth. The cabinet presented, in fact, the most perfect representation of unrestrained pleasure and amusement. As he entered, Monsieur was struck at beholding so many persons enjoying themselves without him. He was so jealous at the sight that he could not resist exclaiming, like a child, “What! you are amusing yourselves here, while I am sick and tired of being alone!”
+
+The sound of his voice was like a clap of thunder coming to interrupt the warbling of birds under the leafy covert of the trees; a dead silence ensued. De Guiche was on his feet in a moment. Malicorne tried to hide himself behind Montalais. Manicamp stood bolt upright, and assumed a very ceremonious demeanor. The guitar player thrust his instrument under a table, covering it with a piece of carpet to conceal it from the prince’s observation. Madame was the only one who did not move, and smiling at her husband, said, “Is not this the hour you usually devote to your toilette?”
+
+“An hour which others select, it seems, for amusing themselves,” replied the prince, grumblingly.
+
+This untoward remark was the signal for a general rout; the women fled like a flock of terrified starlings; the guitar player vanished like a shadow; Malicorne, still protected by Montalais, who purposely widened out her dress, glided behind the hanging tapestry. As for Manicamp, he went to the assistance of De Guiche, who naturally remained near Madame, and both of them, with the princess herself, courageously sustained the attack. The count was too happy to bear malice against the husband; but Monsieur bore a grudge against his wife. Nothing was wanting but a quarrel; he sought it, and the hurried departure of the crowd, which had been so joyous before he arrived, and was so disturbed by his entrance, furnished him with a pretext.
+
+“Why do they run away at the very sight of me?” he inquired, in a supercilious tone; to which remark Madame replied, that, “whenever the master of the house made his appearance, the family kept aloof out of respect.” As she said this, she made so funny and so pretty a grimace, that De Guiche and Manicamp could not control themselves; they burst into a peal of laugher; Madame followed their example, and even Monsieur himself could not resist it, and he was obliged to sit down, as, for laughing, he could scarcely keep his equilibrium. However, he very soon left off, but his anger had increased. He was still more furious because he had permitted himself to laugh, than from having seen others laugh. He looked at Manicamp steadily, not venturing to show his anger towards De Guiche; but, at a sign which displayed no little amount of annoyance, Manicamp and De Guiche left the room, so that Madame, left alone, began sadly to pick up her pearls and amethysts, no longer smiling, and speaking still less.
+
+“I am very happy,” said the duke, “to find myself treated as a stranger here, Madame,” and he left the room in a passion. On his way out, he met Montalais, who was in attendance in the ante-room. “It is very agreeable to pay you a visit here, but outside the door.”
+
+Montalais made a very low obeisance. “I do not quite understand what your royal highness does me the honor to say.”
+
+“I say that when you are all laughing together in Madame’s apartment, he is an unwelcome visitor who does not remain outside.”
+
+“Your royal highness does not think, and does not speak so, of yourself?”
+
+“On the contrary, it is on my own account that I do speak and think. I have no reason, certainly, to flatter myself about the reception I meet with here at any time. How is it that, on the very day there is music and a little society in Madame’s apartments -- in my own apartments, indeed, for they are mine -- on the very day that I wish to amuse myself a little in my turn, every one runs away? Are they afraid to see me, that they all take wing as soon as I appear? Is there anything wrong, then, going on in my absence?”
+
+“Yet nothing has been done to-day, monseigneur, which is not done every day.”
+
+“What! do they laugh like that every day?”
+
+“Why, yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“The same group of people simpering and the same singing and strumming going on every day?”
+
+“The guitar, monseigneur, was introduced to-day; but when we have no guitars, we have violins and flutes; ladies soon weary without music.”
+
+“The deuce! -- and the men?”
+
+“What men, monseigneur?”
+
+“M. de Guiche, M. de Manicamp, and the rest of them?”
+
+“They all belong to your highness’s household.”
+
+“Yes, yes, you are right,” said the prince, as he returned to his own apartments, full of thought. He threw himself into the largest of his arm-chairs, without looking at himself in the glass. “Where can the chevalier be?” said he. One of the prince’s attendants happened to be near him, overheard his remark, and replied, -- 
+
+“No one knows, your highness.”
+
+“Still the same answer. The first one who answers me again, ‘I do not know,’ I will discharge.” Every one at this remark hurried out of his apartments, in the same manner as the others had fled from Madame’s apartments. The prince then flew into the wildest rage. He kicked over a chiffonier, which tumbled on the carpet, broken into pieces. He next went into the galleries, and with the greatest coolness threw down, one after another, an enameled vase, a porphyry ewer, and a bronze candelabrum. The noise summoned every one to the various doors.
+
+“What is your highness’s pleasure?” said the captain of the guards, timidly.
+
+“I am treating myself to some music,” replied the prince, gnashing his teeth.
+
+The captain of the guards desired his royal highness’s physician to be sent for. But before he came, Malicorne arrived, saying to the prince, “Monseigneur, the Chevalier de Lorraine is here.”
+
+The duke looked at Malicorne, and smiled graciously at him, just as the chevalier entered.
+
+Chapter XXXI. M. de Lorraine’s Jealousy.
+
+The Duc d’Orleans uttered a cry of delight on perceiving the Chevalier de Lorraine. “This is fortunate, indeed,” he said; “by what happy chance do I see you? Had you indeed disappeared, as every one assured me?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“A caprice?”
+
+“I to venture upon caprices with your highness! The respect -- ”
+
+“Put respect out of the way, for you fail in it every day. I absolve you; but why did you leave me?”
+
+“Because I felt that I was of no further use to you.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Your highness has people about you who are far more amusing that I can ever be. I felt I was not strong enough to enter into contest with them, and I therefore withdrew.”
+
+“This extreme diffidence shows a want of common sense. Who are those with whom you cannot contend? De Guiche?”
+
+“I name no one.”
+
+“This is absurd. Does De Guiche annoy you?”
+
+“I do not say he does; do not force me to speak, however; you know very well that De Guiche is one of our best friends.”
+
+“Who is it, then?”
+
+“Excuse me, monseigneur, let us say no more about it.” The chevalier knew perfectly well that curiosity is excited in the same way as thirst -- by removing that which quenches it; or in other words, by denying an explanation.
+
+“No, no,” said the prince; “I wish to know why you went away.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur, I will tell you; but do not get angry. I remarked that my presence was disagreeable.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“To Madame.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said the duke in astonishment.
+
+“It is simple enough; Madame is very probably jealous of the regard you are good enough to testify for me.”
+
+“Has she shown it to you?”
+
+“Madame never addresses a syllable to me, particularly since a certain time.”
+
+“Since what time?”
+
+“Since the time when, M. de Guiche having made himself more agreeable to her than I could, she receives him at every and any hour.”
+
+The duke colored. “At any hour, chevalier; what do you mean by that?”
+
+“You see, your highness, I have already displeased you; I was quite sure I should.”
+
+“I am not displeased; but what you say is rather startling. In what respect does Madame prefer De Guiche to you?”
+
+“I shall say no more,” said the chevalier, saluting the prince ceremoniously.
+
+“On the contrary, I require you to speak. If you withdraw on that account, you must indeed be very jealous.”
+
+“One cannot help being jealous, monseigneur, when one loves. Is not your royal highness jealous of Madame? Would you not, if you saw some one always near Madame, and always treated with great favor, take umbrage at it? One’s friends are as one’s lovers. Your highness has sometimes conferred the distinguished honor upon me of calling me your friend.”
+
+“Yes, yes,; but you used a phrase which has a very equivocal significance; you are unfortunate in your phrases.”
+
+“What phrase, monseigneur?”
+
+“You said, ‘treated with great favor.’ What do you mean by favor?”
+
+“Nothing can be more simple,” said the chevalier, with an expression of great frankness; “for instance, whenever a husband remarks that his wife summons such and such a man near her; whenever this man is always to be found by her side, or in attendance at the door of her carriage; whenever the bouquet of the one is always the same color as the ribbons of the other; when music and supper parties are held in private apartments; whenever a dead silence takes place immediately the husband makes his appearance in his wife’s rooms; and when the husband suddenly finds that he has, as a companion, the most devoted and the kindest of men, who, a week before, was with him as little as possible; why, then -- ”
+
+“Well, finish.”
+
+“Why, then, I say, monseigneur, one possibly may get jealous. But all these details hardly apply; for our conversation had nothing to do with them.”
+
+The duke was evidently very much agitated, and seemed to struggle with himself a good deal. “You have not told me,” he then remarked, “why you absented yourself. A little while ago you said it was from a fear of intruding; you added, even, that you had observed a disposition on Madame’s part to encourage De Guiche.”
+
+“Pardon me, monseigneur, I did not say that.”
+
+“You did, indeed.”
+
+“Well, if I did say so, I observed nothing but what was very inoffensive.”
+
+“At all events, you remarked something.”
+
+“You embarrass me, monseigneur.”
+
+“What does that matter? Answer me. If you speak the truth, why should you feel embarrassed?”
+
+“I always speak the truth, monseigneur; but I also always hesitate when it is a question of repeating what others say.”
+
+“Ah! repeat? It appears that it is talked about, then?”
+
+“I acknowledge that others have spoken to me on the subject.”
+
+“Who?” said the prince.
+
+The chevalier assumed almost an angry air, as he replied, “Monseigneur, you are subjecting me to cross-examination; you treat me as a criminal at the bar; the rumors which idly pass by a gentleman’s ears do not remain there. Your highness wishes me to magnify rumors until it attains the importance of an event.”
+
+“However,” said the duke, in great displeasure, “the fact remains that you withdrew on account of this report.”
+
+“To speak the truth, others have talked to me of the attentions of M. de Guiche to Madame, nothing more; perfectly harmless, I repeat, and more than that, allowable. But do not be unjust, monseigneur, and do not attach any undue importance to it. It does not concern you.”
+
+“M. de Guiche’s attentions to Madame do not concern me?”
+
+“No, monseigneur; and what I say to you I would say to De Guiche himself, so little do I think of the attentions he pays Madame. Nay, I would say it even to Madame herself. Only you understand what I am afraid of -- I am afraid of being thought jealous of the favor shown, when I am only jealous as far as friendship is concerned. I know your disposition; I know that when you bestow your affections you become exclusively attached. You love Madame -- and who, indeed, would not love her? Follow me attentively as I proceed: -- Madame has noticed among your friends the handsomest and most fascinating of them all; she will begin to influence you on his behalf in such a way that you will neglect the others. Your indifference would kill me; it is already bad enough to have to support Madame’s indifference. I have, therefore, made up my mind to give way to the favorite whose happiness I envy, even while I acknowledge my sincere friendship and sincere admiration for him. Well, monseigneur, do you see anything to object to in this reasoning? Is it not that of a man of honor? Is my conduct that of a sincere friend? Answer me, at least, after having so closely questioned me.”
+
+The duke had seated himself, with his head buried in his hands. After a silence long enough to enable the chevalier to judge the effect of this oratorical display, the duke arose, saying, “Come, be candid.”
+
+“As I always am.”
+
+“Very well. You know that we already observed something respecting that mad fellow, Buckingham.”
+
+“Do not say anything against Madame, monseigneur, or I shall take my leave. It is impossible you can be suspicious of Madame?”
+
+“No, no, chevalier; I do not suspect Madame; but in fact, I observe -- I compare -- ”
+
+“Buckingham was a madman, monseigneur.”
+
+“A madman about whom, however, you opened my eyes thoroughly.”
+
+“No, no,” said the chevalier, quickly; “it was not I who opened your eyes, it was De Guiche. Do not confound us, I beg.” And he began to laugh in so harsh a manner that it sounded like the hiss of a serpent.
+
+“Yes, yes; I remember. You said a few words, but De Guiche showed the most jealousy.”
+
+“I should think so,” continued the chevalier, in the same tone. “He was fighting for home and altar.”
+
+“What did you say?” said the duke, haughtily, thoroughly roused by this insidious jest.
+
+“Am I not right? for does not M. de Guiche hold the chief post of honor in your household?”
+
+“Well,” replied the duke, somewhat calmed, “had this passion of Buckingham been remarked?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Very well. Do people say that M. de Guiche’s is remarked as much?”
+
+“Pardon me, monseigneur; you are again mistaken; no one says that M. de Guiche entertains anything of the sort.”
+
+“Very good.”
+
+“You see, monseigneur, that it would have been better, a hundred times better, to have left me in my retirement, than to have allowed you to conjure up, by aid of any scruples I may have had, suspicions which Madame will regard as crimes, and she would be in the right, too.”
+
+“What would you do?”
+
+“Act reasonably.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“I should not pay the slightest attention to the society of these new Epicurean philosophers; and, in that way, the rumors will cease.”
+
+“Well, I will see; I will think it over.”
+
+“Oh, you have time enough; the danger is not great; and then, besides, it is not a question of danger or of passion. It all arose from a fear I had to see your friendship for me decrease. From the very moment you restore it, with so kind an assurance of its existence, I have no longer any other idea in my head.”
+
+The duke shook his head as if he meant to say: “If you have no more ideas, I have, though.” It being now the dinner hour, the prince sent to inform Madame of it; but she returned a message to the effect that she could not be present, but would dine in her own apartment.
+
+“That is not my fault,” said the duke. “This morning, having taken them by surprise in the midst of a musical party, I got jealous; and so they are in the sulks with me.”
+
+“We will dine alone,” said the chevalier, with a sigh; “I regret De Guiche is not here.”
+
+“Oh! De Guiche will not remain long in the sulks; he is a very good-natured fellow.”
+
+“Monseigneur,” said the chevalier, suddenly, “an excellent idea has struck me, in our conversation just now. I may have exasperated your highness, and caused you some dissatisfaction. It is but fitting that I should be the mediator. I will go and look for the count, and bring him back with me.”
+
+“Ah! chevalier, you are really a very good-natured fellow.”
+
+“You say that as if you were surprised.”
+
+“Well, you are not so tender-hearted every day.”
+
+“That may be; but confess that I know how to repair a wrong I may have done.”
+
+“I confess that.”
+
+“Will your highness do me the favor to wait here a few minutes?”
+
+“Willingly; be off, and I will try on my Fontainebleau costume.”
+
+The chevalier left the room, called his different attendant with the greatest care, as if he were giving them different orders. All went off in various directions; but he retained his valet de chambre. “Ascertain, and immediately, too, of M. de Guiche is not in Madame’s apartments. How can one learn it?”
+
+“Very easily, monsieur. I will ask Malicorne, who will find out from Mlle. de Montalais. I may as well tell you, however, that the inquiry will be useless; for all M. de Guiche’s attendants are gone, and he must have left with them.”
+
+“Ascertain, nevertheless.”
+
+Ten minutes had hardly passed, when the valet returned. He beckoned his master mysteriously towards the servants’ staircase, and showed him into a small room with a window looking out upon the garden. “What is the matter?” said the chevalier; “why so many precautions?”
+
+“Look, monsieur,” said the valet, “look yonder, under the walnut-tree.”
+
+“Ah?” said the chevalier. “I see Manicamp there. What is he waiting for?”
+
+“You will see in a moment, monsieur, if you wait patiently. There, do you see now?”
+
+“I see one, two, four musicians with their instruments, and behind them, urging them on, De Guiche himself. What is he doing there, though?”
+
+“He is waiting until the little door of the staircase, belonging to the ladies of honor, is opened; by that staircase he will ascend to Madame’s apartments, where some new pieces of music are going to be performed during dinner.”
+
+“This is admirable news you tell me.”
+
+“Is it not, monsieur?”
+
+“Was it M. de Malicorne who told you this?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“He likes you, then?”
+
+“No, monsieur, it is Monsieur that he likes.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because he wishes to belong to his household.”
+
+“And most certainly he shall. How much did he give you for that?”
+
+“The secret which I now dispose of to you, monsieur.”
+
+“And which I buy for a hundred pistoles. Take them.”
+
+“Thank you, monsieur. Look, look, the little door opens; a woman admits the musicians.”
+
+“It is Montalais.”
+
+“Hush, monseigneur; do not call out her name; whoever says Montalais says Malicorne. If you quarrel with the one, you will be on bad terms with the other.”
+
+“Very well; I have seen nothing.”
+
+“And I,” said the valet, pocketing the purse, “have received nothing.”
+
+The chevalier, being now certain that Guiche had entered, returned to the prince, whom he found splendidly dressed and radiant with joy, as with good looks. “I am told,” he exclaimed, “that the king has taken the sun as his device; really, monseigneur, it is you whom this device would best suit.”
+
+“Where is De Guiche?”
+
+“He cannot be found. He has fled -- has evaporated entirely. Your scolding of this morning terrified him. He could not be found in his apartments.”
+
+“Bah! the hair-brained fellow is capable of setting off post-haste to his own estates. Poor man! we will recall him. Come, let us dine now.”
+
+“Monseigneur, to-day is a very festival of ideas; I have another.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Madame is angry with you, and she has reason to be so. You owe her revenge; go and dine with her.”
+
+“Oh! that would be acting like a weak and whimsical husband.”
+
+“It is the duty of a good husband to do so. The princess is no doubt wearied enough; she will be weeping in her plate, and here eyes will get quite red. A husband who is the cause of his wife’s eyes getting red is an odious creature. Come, monseigneur, come.”
+
+“I cannot; for I have directed dinner to be served here.”
+
+“Yet see, monseigneur, how dull we shall be; I shall be low-spirited because I know that Madame will be alone; you, hard and savage as you wish to appear, will be sighing all the while. Take me with you to Madame’s dinner, and that will be a delightful surprise. I am sure we shall be very merry; you were in the wrong this morning.”
+
+“Well, perhaps I was.”
+
+“There is no perhaps at all, for it is a fact you were so.”
+
+“Chevalier, chevalier, your advice is not good.”
+
+“Nay, my advice is good; all the advantages are on your own side. Your violet-colored suit, embroidered with gold, becomes you admirably. Madame will be as much vanquished by the man as by the action. Come, monseigneur.”
+
+“You decide me; let us go.”
+
+The duke left his room, accompanied by the chevalier and went towards Madame’s apartments. The chevalier hastily whispered to the valet, “Be sure there are some people before that little door, so that no one can escape in that direction. Run, run!” And he followed the duke towards the ante-chambers of Madame’s suite of apartments, and when the ushers were about to announce them, the chevalier said, laughing, “His highness wishes to surprise Madame.”
+
+Chapter XXXII. Monsieur is Jealous of Guiche.
+
+Monsieur entered the room abruptly, as persons do who mean well and think they confer pleasure, or as those who hope to surprise some secret, the terrible reward of jealous people. Madame, almost out of her senses with joy at the first bars of music, was dancing in the most unrestrained manner, leaving the dinner, which had been already begun, unfinished. Her partner was M. de Guiche, who, with his arms raised, and his eyes half closed, was kneeling on one knee, like the Spanish dancers, with looks full of passion, and gestures of the most caressing character. The princess was dancing round him with a responsive smile, and the same air of alluring seductiveness. Montalais stood by admiringly; La Valliere, seated in a corner of the room, looked on thoughtfully. It is impossible to describe the effect which the presence of the prince produced upon this gleeful company, and it would be equally impossible to describe the effect which the sight of their happiness produced upon Philip. The Comte de Guiche had no power to move; Madame remained in the middle of one of the figures and of an attitude, unable to utter a word. The Chevalier de Lorraine, leaning his back against the doorway, smiled like a man in the very height of the frankest admiration. The pallor of the prince, and the convulsive twitching of his hands and limbs, were the first symptoms that struck those present. A dead silence succeeded the merry music of the dance. The Chevalier de Lorraine took advantage of this interval to salute Madame and De Guiche most respectfully, affecting to join them together in his reverences as though they were the master and mistress of the house. Monsieur then approached them, saying, in a hoarse tone of voice, “I am delighted; I came here expecting to find you ill and low-spirited, and I find you abandoning yourself to new amusements; really, it is most fortunate. My house is the pleasantest in the kingdom.” Then turning towards De Guiche, “Comte,” he said, “I did not know you were so good a dancer.” And, again addressing his wife, he said, “Show a little more consideration for me, Madame; whenever you intend to amuse yourselves here, invite me. I am a prince, unfortunately, very much neglected.”
+
+Guiche had now recovered his self-possession, and with the spirited boldness which was natural to him, and sat so well upon him, he said, “Your highness knows very well that my very life is at your service, and whenever there is a question of its being needed, I am ready; but to-day, as it is only a question of dancing to music, I dance.”
+
+“And you are perfectly right,” said the prince, coldly. “But, Madame,” he continued, “you do not remark that your ladies deprive me of my friends; M. de Guiche does not belong to you, Madame, but to me. If you wish to dine without me you have your ladies. When I dine alone I have my gentlemen; do not strip me of everything.”
+
+Madame felt the reproach and the lesson, and the color rushed to her face. “Monsieur,” she replied, “I was not aware, when I came to the court of France, that princesses of my rank were to be regarded as the women in Turkey are. I was not aware that we were not allowed to be seen; but, since such is your desire, I will conform myself to it; pray do not hesitate, if you should wish it, to have my windows barred, even.”
+
+This repartee, which made Montalais and De Guiche smile, rekindled the prince’s anger, no inconsiderable portion of which had already evaporated in words.
+
+“Very well,” he said, in a concentrated tone of voice, “this is the way in which I am respected in my own house.”
+
+“Monseigneur, monseigneur,” murmured the chevalier in the duke’s ear, in such a manner that every one could observe he was endeavoring to calm him.
+
+“Come,” replied the prince, as his only answer to the remark, hurrying him away, and turning round with so hasty a movement that he almost ran against Madame. The chevalier followed him to his own apartment, where the prince had no sooner seated himself than he gave free vent to his fury. The chevalier raised his eyes towards the ceiling, joined his hands together, and said not a word.
+
+“Give me your opinion,” exclaimed the prince.
+
+“Upon what?”
+
+“Upon what is taking place here.”
+
+“Oh, monseigneur, it is a very serious matter.”
+
+“It is abominable! I cannot live in this manner.”
+
+“How miserable all this is,” said the chevalier. “We hoped to enjoy tranquillity after that madman Buckingham had left.”
+
+“And this is worse.”
+
+“I do not say that, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, but I say it; for Buckingham would never have ventured upon a fourth part of what we have just now seen.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“To conceal oneself for the purposes of dancing, and to feign indisposition in order to dine tete-a-tete.”
+
+“No, no, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” exclaimed the prince, exciting himself like a self-willed child; “but I will not endure it any longer, I must learn what is really going on.”
+
+“Oh, monseigneur, an exposure -- ”
+
+“By Heaven, monsieur, shall I put myself out of the way, when people show so little consideration for me? Wait for me here, chevalier, wait for me here.” The prince disappeared in the neighboring apartment and inquired of the gentleman in attendance if the queen-mother had returned from chapel.
+
+Anne of Austria felt that her happiness was now complete; peace restored to her family, a nation delighted with the presence of a young monarch who had shown an aptitude for affairs of great importance; the revenues of the state increased; external peace assured; everything seemed to promise a tranquil future. Her thoughts recurred, now and then, to the poor young nobleman whom she had received as a mother, and had driven away as a hard-hearted step-mother, and she sighed as she thought of him.
+
+Suddenly the Duc d’Orleans entered her room. “Dear mother,” he exclaimed hurriedly, closing the door, “things cannot go on as they are now.”
+
+Anne of Austria raised her beautiful eyes towards him, and with an unmoved suavity of manner, said, “What do you allude to?”
+
+“I wish to speak of Madame.”
+
+“Your wife?”
+
+“Yes, madame.”
+
+“I suppose that silly fellow Buckingham has been writing a farewell letter to her.”
+
+“Oh! yes, madame; of course, it is a question of Buckingham.”
+
+“Of whom else could it be, then? for that poor fellow was, wrongly enough, the object of your jealousy, and I thought -- ”
+
+“My wife, madame, has already replaced the Duke of Buckingham.”
+
+“Philip, what are you saying? You are speaking very heedlessly.”
+
+“No, no. Madame has so managed matters, that I am still jealous.”
+
+“Of whom, in Heaven’s name?”
+
+“Is it possible you have not remarked it? Have you not noticed that M. de Guiche is always in her apartments -- always with her?”
+
+The queen clapped her hands together, and began to laugh. “Philip,” she said, “your jealousy is not merely a defect, it is a disease.”
+
+“Whether a defect or a disease, madame, I am the sufferer from it.”
+
+“And do you imagine that a complaint which exists only in your own imagination can be cured? You wish it to be said you are right in being jealous, when there is no ground whatever for your jealousy.”
+
+“Of course, you will begin to say for this gentleman what you already said on the behalf of the other.”
+
+“Because, Philip,” said the queen dryly, “what you did for the other, you are going to do for this one.”
+
+The prince bowed, slightly annoyed. “If I give you facts,” he said, “will you believe me?”
+
+“If it regarded anything else but jealousy, I would believe you without your bringing facts forward; but as jealousy is the case, I promise nothing.”
+
+“It is just the same as if your majesty were to desire me to hold my tongue, and sent me away unheard.”
+
+“Far from it; you are my son, I owe you a mother’s indulgence.”
+
+“Oh, say what you think; you owe me as much indulgence as a madman deserves.”
+
+“Do not exaggerate, Philip, and take care how you represent your wife to me as a woman of depraved mind -- ”
+
+“But facts, mother, facts!”
+
+“Well, I am listening.”
+
+“This morning at ten o’clock they were playing music in Madame’s apartments.”
+
+“No harm in that, surely.”
+
+“M. de Guiche was talking with her alone -- Ah! I forgot to tell you, that, during the last ten days, he has never left her side.”
+
+“If they were doing any harm they would hide themselves.”
+
+“Very good,” exclaimed the duke, “I expected you to say that. Pray remember with precision the words you have just uttered. This morning I took them by surprise, and showed my dissatisfaction in a very marked manner.”
+
+“Rely upon it, that is quite sufficient; it was, perhaps, even a little too much. These young women easily take offense. To reproach them for an error they have not committed is, sometimes, almost equivalent to telling them they might be guilty of even worse.”
+
+“Very good, very good; but wait a minute. Do not forget what you have just this moment said, that this morning’s lesson ought to have been sufficient, and that if they had been doing what was wrong, they would have hidden themselves.”
+
+“Yes, I said so.”
+
+“Well, just now, repenting of my hastiness of the morning, and imagining that Guiche was sulking in his own apartments, I went to pay Madame a visit. Can you guess what, or whom, I found there? Another set of musicians; more dancing, and Guiche himself -- he was concealed there.”
+
+Anne of Austria frowned. “It was imprudent,” she said. “What did Madame say?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“And Guiche?”
+
+“As much -- oh, no! he muttered some impertinent remark or another.”
+
+“Well, what is your opinion, Philip?”
+
+“That I have been made a fool of; that Buckingham was only a pretext, and that Guiche is the one who is really to blame in the matter.”
+
+Anne shrugged her shoulders. “Well,” she said, “what else?”
+
+“I wish De Guiche to be dismissed from my household, as Buckingham was, and I shall ask the king, unless -- ”
+
+“Unless what?”
+
+“Unless you, my dear mother, who are so clever and so kind, will execute the commission yourself.”
+
+“I will not do it, Philip.”
+
+“What, madame?”
+
+“Listen, Philip; I am not disposed to pay people ill compliments every day; I have some influence over young people, but I cannot take advantage of it without running the chances of losing it altogether. Besides, there is nothing to prove that M. de Guiche is guilty.”
+
+“He has displeased me.”
+
+“That is your own affair.”
+
+“Very well, I know what I shall do,” said the prince, impetuously.
+
+Anne looked at him with some uneasiness. “What do you intend to do?” she said.
+
+“I will have him drowned in my fish-pond the very next time I find him in my apartments again.” Having launched this terrible threat, the prince expected his mother would be frightened out of her senses; but the queen was unmoved.
+
+“Do so,” she said.
+
+Philip was as weak as a woman, and began to cry out, “Every one betrays me, -- no one cares for me; my mother, even, joins my enemies.”
+
+“Your mother, Philip, sees further in the matter than you do, and does not care about advising you, since you will not listen to her.”
+
+“I will go to the king.”
+
+“I was about to propose that to you. I am now expecting his majesty; it is the hour he usually pays me a visit; explain the matter to him yourself.”
+
+She had hardly finished when Philip heard the door of the ante-room open with some noise. He began to feel nervous. At the sound of the king’s footsteps, which could be heard upon the carpet, the duke hurriedly made his escape. Anne of Austria could not resist laughing, and was laughing still when the king entered. He came very affectionately to inquire after the even now uncertain health of the queen-mother, and to announce to her that the preparations for the journey to Fontainebleau were complete. Seeing her laugh, his uneasiness on her account diminished, and he addressed her in a vivacious tone himself. Anne of Austria took him by the hand, and, in a voice full of playfulness, said, “Do you know, sire that I am proud of being a Spanish woman?”
+
+“Why, madame?”
+
+“Because Spanish women are worth more than English women at least.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Since your marriage you have not, I believe, had a single reproach to make against the queen.”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“And you, too, have been married some time. Your brother, on the contrary, has been married but a fortnight.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“He is now finding fault with Madame a second time.”
+
+“What, Buckingham still?”
+
+“No, another.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Guiche.”
+
+“Really? Madame is a coquette, then?”
+
+“I fear so.”
+
+“My poor brother,” said the king, laughing.
+
+“You don’t object to coquettes, it seems?”
+
+“In Madame, certainly I do; but Madame is not a coquette at heart.”
+
+“That may be, but your brother is excessively angry about it.”
+
+“What does he want?”
+
+“He wants to drown Guiche.”
+
+“That is a violent measure to resort to.”
+
+“Do not laugh; he is extremely irritated. Think of what can be done.”
+
+“To save Guiche -- certainly.”
+
+“Of, if your brother heard you, he would conspire against you as your uncle did against your father.”
+
+“No; Philip has too much affection for me for that, and I, on my side, have too great a regard for him; we shall live together on very good terms. But what is the substance of his request?”
+
+“That you will prevent Madame from being a coquette and Guiche from being amiable.”
+
+“Is that all? My brother has an exalted idea of sovereign power. To reform a man, not to speak about reforming a woman!”
+
+“How will you set about it?”
+
+“With a word to Guiche, who is a clever fellow, I will undertake to convince him.”
+
+“But Madame?”
+
+“That is more difficult; a word will not be enough. I will compose a homily and read it to her.”
+
+“There is no time to be lost.”
+
+“Oh, I will use the utmost diligence. There is a repetition of the ballet this afternoon.”
+
+“You will read her a lecture while you are dancing?”
+
+“Yes, madame.”
+
+“You promise to convert her?”
+
+“I will root out the heresy altogether, either by convincing her, or by extreme measures.”
+
+“That is all right, then. Do not mix me up in the affair; Madame would never forgive me all her life, and as a mother-in-law, I ought to desire to live on good terms with my new-found daughter.”
+
+“The king, madame, will take all upon himself. But let me reflect.”
+
+“What about?”
+
+“It would be better, perhaps, if I were to go and see Madame in her own apartment.”
+
+“Would that not seem a somewhat serious step to take?”
+
+“Yes; but seriousness is not unbecoming in preachers, and the music of the ballet would drown half my arguments. Besides, the object is to prevent any violent measures on my brother’s part, so that a little precipitation may be advisable. Is Madame in her own apartment?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“What is my statement of grievances to consist of?”
+
+“In a few words, of the following: music uninterruptedly; Guiche’s assiduity; suspicions of treasonable plots and practices.”
+
+“And the proofs?”
+
+“There are none.”
+
+“Very well; I will go at once to see Madame.” The king turned to look in the mirrors at his costume, which was very rich, and his face, which was radiant as the morning. “I suppose my brother is kept a little at a distance,” said the king.
+
+“Fire and water cannot be more opposite.”
+
+“That will do. Permit me, madame, to kiss your hands, the most beautiful hands in France.”
+
+“May you be successful, sire, as the family peacemaker.”
+
+“I do not employ an ambassador,” said Louis, “which is as much as to say that I shall succeed.” He laughed as he left the room, and carelessly adjusted his ruffles as he went along.
+
+Chapter XXXIII. The Mediator.
+
+When the king made his appearance in Madame’s apartments, the courtiers, whom the news of a conjugal misunderstanding had dispersed through the various apartments, began to entertain the most serious apprehensions. A storm was brewing in that direction, the elements of which the Chevalier de Lorraine, in the midst of the different groups, was analyzing with delight, contributing to the weaker, and acting, according to his own wicked designs, in such a manner with regard to the stronger, as to produce the most disastrous consequences possible. As Anne of Austria had herself said, the presence of the king gave a solemn and serious character to the event. Indeed, in the year 1662, the dissatisfaction of Monsieur with Madame, and the king’s intervention in the private affairs of Monsieur, was a matter of no inconsiderable moment. [3]
+
+The boldest, even, who had been the associates of the Comte de Guiche, had, from the first moment, held aloof from him, with a sort of nervous apprehension; and the comte himself, infected by the general panic, retired to his own room. The king entered Madame’s private apartments, acknowledging and returning the salutations, as he was always in the habit of doing. The ladies of honor were ranged in a line on his passage along the gallery. Although his majesty was very much preoccupied, he gave the glance of a master at the two rows of young and beautiful girls, who modestly cast down their eyes, blushing as they felt the king’s gaze fall upon them. One only of the number, whose long hair fell in silken masses upon the most beautiful skin imaginable, was pale, and could hardly sustain herself, notwithstanding the knocks which her companion gave her with her elbow. It was La Valliere whom Montalais supported in that manner by whispering some of that courage to her with which she herself was so abundantly provided. The king could not resist turning round to look at them again. Their faces, which had already been raised, were again lowered, but the only fair head among them remained motionless, as if all the strength and intelligence she had left had abandoned her. When he entered Madame’s room, Louis found his sister-in-law reclining upon the cushions of her cabinet. She rose and made a profound reverence, murmuring some words of thanks for the honor she was receiving. She then resumed her seat, overcome by a sudden weakness, which was no doubt assumed, for a delightful color animated her cheeks, and her eyes, still red from the tears she had recently shed, never had more fire in them. When the king was seated, as soon as he had remarked, with that accuracy of observation which characterized him, the disorder of the apartment, and the no less great disorder of Madame’s countenance, he assumed a playful manner, saying, “My dear sister, at what hour to-day would you wish the repetition of the ballet to take place?”
+
+Madame, shaking her charming head, slowly and languishingly said: “Ah! sire, will you graciously excuse my appearance at the repetition? I was about to send to inform you that I could not attend to-day.”
+
+“Indeed,” said the king, in apparent surprise; “are you not well?”
+
+“No, sire.”
+
+“I will summon your medical attendants, then.”
+
+“No, for they can do nothing for my indisposition.”
+
+“You alarm me.”
+
+“Sire, I wish to ask your majesty’s permission to return to England.”
+
+The king started. “Return to England,” he said; “do you really say what you mean?”
+
+“I say it reluctantly, sire,” replied the grand-daughter of Henry IV., firmly, her beautiful black eyes flashing. “I regret to have to confide such matters to your majesty, but I feel myself too unhappy at your majesty’s court; and I wish to return to my own family.”
+
+“Madame, madame,” exclaimed the king, as he approached her.
+
+“Listen to me, sire,” continued the young woman, acquiring by degrees that ascendency over her interrogator which her beauty and her nervous nature conferred; “young as I am, I have already suffered humiliation, and have endured disdain here. Oh! do not contradict me, sire,” she said, with a smile. The king colored.
+
+“Then,” she continued, “I had reasoned myself into the belief that Heaven called me into existence with that object -- I, the daughter of a powerful monarch; that since my father had been deprived of life, Heaven could well smite my pride. I have suffered greatly; I have been the cause, too, of my mother suffering much; but I vowed that if Providence ever placed me in a position of independence, even were it that of a workman of the lower classes, who gains her bread by her labor, I would never suffer humiliation again. That day has now arrived; I have been restored to the fortune due to my rank and to my birth; I have even ascended again the steps of a throne, and I thought that, in allying myself with a French prince, I should find in him a relation, a friend, an equal; but I perceive I have found only a master, and I rebel. My mother shall know nothing of it; you whom I respect, and whom I -- love -- ”
+
+The king started; never had any voice so gratified his ear.
+
+“You, sire, who know all, since you have come here; you will, perhaps, understand me. If you had not come, I should have gone to you. I wish for permission to go away. I leave it to your delicacy of feeling to exculpate and to protect me.”
+
+“My dear sister,” murmured the king, overpowered by this bold attack, “have you reflected upon the enormous difficulty of the project you have conceived?”
+
+“Sire, I do not reflect, I feel. Attacked, I instinctively repel the attack, nothing more.”
+
+“Come, tell me, what have they done to you?” said the king.
+
+The princess, it will have been seen, by this peculiarly feminine maneuver, had escaped every reproach, and advanced on her side a far more serious one; from the accused she became the accuser. It is an infallible sign of guilt; but notwithstanding that, all women, even the least clever of the sex, invariably know how to derive some such means of turning the tables. The king had forgotten that he was paying her a visit in order to say to her, “What have you done to my brother?” and he was reduced to weakly asking her, “What have they done to you?”
+
+“What have they done to me?” replied Madame. “One must be a woman to understand it, sire -- they have made me shed tears;” and, with one of her fingers, whose slenderness and perfect whiteness were unequaled, she pointed to her brilliant eyes swimming with unshed drops, and again began to weep.
+
+“I implore you, my dear sister!” said the king, advancing to take her warm and throbbing hand, which she abandoned to him.
+
+“In the first place, sire, I was deprived of the presence of my brother’s friend. The Duke of Buckingham was an agreeable, cheerful visitor; my own countryman, who knew my habits; I will say almost a companion, so accustomed had we been to pass our days together, with our other friends, upon the beautiful piece of water at St. James’s.”
+
+“But Villiers was in love with you.”
+
+“A pretext! What does it matter,” she said, seriously, “whether the duke was in love with me or not? Is a man in love so very dangerous for me? Ah! sire, it is not sufficient for a man to love a woman.” And she smiled so tenderly, and with so much archness, that the king felt his heart swell and throb in his breast.
+
+“At all events, if my brother were jealous?” interrupted the king.
+
+“Very well, I admit that is a reason; and the duke was sent away accordingly.”
+
+“No, not sent away.”
+
+“Driven away, dismissed, expelled, then, if you prefer it, sire. One of the first gentlemen of Europe obliged to leave the court of the King of France, of Louis XIV., like a beggar, on account of a glance or a bouquet. It was little worthy of a most gallant court; but forgive me, sire; I forgot, that, in speaking thus, I am attacking your sovereign power.”
+
+“I assure you, my dear sister, it was not I who dismissed the Duke of Buckingham; I was charmed with him.”
+
+“It was not you?” said Madame; “ah! so much the better;” and she emphasized the “so much the better,” as if she had instead said, “so much the worse.”
+
+A few minutes’ silence ensued. She then resumed: “The Duke of Buckingham having left -- I now know why and by whose means -- I thought I should have recovered my tranquillity; but not at all, for all at once Monsieur found another pretext; all at once -- ”
+
+“All at once,” said the king, playfully, “some one else presents himself. It is but natural; you are beautiful, and will always meet with men who will madly love you.”
+
+“In that case,” exclaimed the princess, “I will create a solitude around me, which indeed seems to be what is wished, and what is being prepared for me. But no, I prefer to return to London. There I am known and appreciated. I shall have friends, without fearing they may be regarded as my lovers. Shame! it is a disgraceful suspicion, and unworthy a gentleman. Monsieur has lost everything in my estimation, since he has shown me he can be a tyrant to a woman.”
+
+“Nay, nay, my brother’s only fault is that of loving you.”
+
+“Love me! Monsieur love me! Ah! sire,” and she burst out laughing. “Monsieur will never love any woman,” she said; “Monsieur loves himself too much; no, unhappily for me, Monsieur’s jealousy is of the worst kind -- he is jealous without love.”
+
+“Confess, however,” said the king, who began to be excited by this varied and animated conversation; “confess that Guiche loves you.”
+
+“Ah! sire, I know nothing about that.”
+
+“You must have perceived it. A man who loves readily betrays himself.”
+
+“M. de Guiche has not betrayed himself.”
+
+“My dear sister, you are defending M. de Guiche.”
+
+“I, indeed! Ah, sire, I only needed a suspicion from yourself to crown my wretchedness.”
+
+“No, madame, no,” returned the king, hurriedly; “do not distress yourself. Nay, you are weeping. I implore you to calm yourself.”
+
+She wept, however, and large tears fell upon her hands; the king took one of her hands in his, and kissed the tears away. She looked at him so sadly and with so much tenderness that he felt his heart giving way under her gaze.
+
+“You have no kind of feeling, then, for Guiche?” he said, more disturbed than became his character of mediator.
+
+“None -- absolutely none.”
+
+“Then I can reassure my brother in that respect?”
+
+“Nothing will satisfy him, sire. Do not believe he is jealous. Monsieur has been badly advised by some one, and he is of nervous disposition.”
+
+“He may well be so when you are concerned,” said the king.
+
+Madame cast down her eyes, and was silent; the king did so likewise, still holding her hand all the while. Their momentary silence seemed to last an age. Madame gently withdrew her hand, and from that moment, she felt her triumph was certain, and that the field of battle was her own.
+
+“Monsieur complains,” said the king, “that you prefer the society of private individuals to his own conversation and society.”
+
+“But Monsieur passes his life in looking at his face in the glass, and in plotting all sorts of spiteful things against women with the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+“Oh, you are going somewhat too far.”
+
+“I only tell you what is true. Do you observe for yourself, sire, and you will see that I am right.”
+
+“I will observe; but, in the meantime, what satisfaction can I give my brother?”
+
+“My departure.”
+
+“You repeat that word,” exclaimed the king, imprudently, as if, during the last ten minutes, such a change had been produced that Madame would have had all her ideas on the subject thoroughly changed.
+
+“Sire, I cannot be happy here any longer,” she said. “M. de Guiche annoys Monsieur. Will he be sent away, too?”
+
+“If it be necessary, why not?” replied the king, smiling.
+
+“Well; and after M. de Guiche -- whom, by the by, I shall regret -- I warn you, sire.”
+
+“Ah, you will regret him?”
+
+“Certainly; he is amiable, he has a great friendship for me, and he amuses me.”
+
+“If Monsieur were only to hear you,” said the king, slightly annoyed, “do you know I would not undertake to make it up again between you; nay, I would not even attempt it.”
+
+“Sire, can you, even now, prevent Monsieur from being jealous of the first person who may approach? I know very well that M. de Guiche is not the first.”
+
+“Again I warn you that as a good brother I shall take a dislike to De Guiche.”
+
+“Ah, sire, do not, I entreat you, adopt either the sympathies or the dislikes of Monsieur. Remain king; better for yourself and for every one else.”
+
+“You jest charmingly, madame; and I can well understand how the people you attack must adore you.”
+
+“And is that the reason why you, sire, whom I had regarded as my defender, are about to join these who persecute me?” said Madame.
+
+“I your persecutor! Heaven forbid!”
+
+“Then,” she continued, languishingly, “grant me a favor.”
+
+“Whatever you wish.”
+
+“Let me return to England.”
+
+“Never, never!” exclaimed Louis XIV.
+
+“I am a prisoner, then?”
+
+“In France -- if France is a prison -- yes.”
+
+“What must I do, then?”
+
+“I will tell you. Instead of devoting yourself to friendships which are somewhat unstable, instead of alarming us by your retirement, remain always in our society, do not leave us, let us live as a united family. M. de Guiche is certainly very amiable; but if, at least, we do not possess his wit -- ”
+
+“Ah, sire, you know very well you are pretending to be modest.”
+
+“No, I swear to you. One may be a king, and yet feel that he possesses fewer chances of pleasing than many other gentlemen.”
+
+“I am sure, sire, that you do not believe a single word you are saying.”
+
+The king looked at Madame tenderly, and said, “Will you promise me one thing?”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That you will no longer waste upon strangers, in your own apartments, the time which you owe us. Shall we make an offensive and defensive alliance against the common enemy?”
+
+“An alliance with you, sire?”
+
+“Why not? Are you not a sovereign power?”
+
+“But are you, sire, a reliable ally?”
+
+“You shall see, madame.”
+
+“And when shall this alliance commence?”
+
+“This very day.”
+
+“I will draw up the treaty, and you shall sign it.”
+
+“Blindly.”
+
+“Then, sire, I promise you wonders; you are the star of the court, and when you make your appearance, everything will be resplendent.”
+
+“Oh, madame, madame,” said Louis XIV., “you know well that there is no brilliancy that does not proceed from yourself, and that if I assume the sun as my device, it is only an emblem.”
+
+“Sire, you flatter your ally, and you wish to deceive her,” said Madame, threatening the king with her finger menacingly raised.
+
+“What! you believe I am deceiving you, when I assure you of my affection?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What makes you so suspicious?”
+
+“One thing.”
+
+“What is it? I shall indeed be unhappy if I do not overcome it.”
+
+“That one thing in question, sire, is not in your power, not even in the power of Heaven.”
+
+“Tell me what it is.”
+
+“The past.”
+
+“I do not understand, madame,” said the king, precisely because he had understood her but too well.
+
+The princess took his hand in hers. “Sire,” she said, “I have had the misfortune to displease you for so long a period, that I have almost the right to ask myself to-day why you were able to accept me as a sister-in-law.”
+
+“Displease me! You have displeased me?”
+
+“Nay, do not deny it, for I remember it well.”
+
+“Our alliance shall date from to-day,” exclaimed the king, with a warmth that was not assumed. “You will not think any more of the past, will you? I myself am resolved that I will not. I shall always remember the present; I have it before my eyes; look.” And he led the princess before a mirror, in which she saw herself reflected, blushing and beautiful enough to overcome a saint.
+
+“It is all the same,” she murmured; “it will not be a very worthy alliance.”
+
+“Must I swear?” inquired the king, intoxicated by the voluptuous turn the whole conversation had taken.
+
+“Oh, I will not refuse to witness a resounding oath,” said Madame; “it has always the semblance of security.”
+
+The king knelt upon a footstool and took Madame’s hand. She, with a smile that no painter could ever succeed in depicting, and which a poet might only imagine, gave him both her hands, in which he hid his burning face. Neither of them could utter a syllable. The king felt Madame withdraw her hands, caressing his face while she did so. He rose immediately and left the apartment. The courtiers remarked his heightened color, and concluded that the scene had been a stormy one. The Chevalier de Lorraine, however, hastened to say, “Nay, be comforted, gentlemen, his majesty is always pale when he is angry.”
+
+Chapter XXXIV. The Advisers.
+
+The king left Madame in a state of agitation it would have been difficult even for himself to have explained. It is impossible, in fact, to depict the secret play of those strange sympathies which, suddenly and apparently without any cause, are excited, after many years passed in the greatest calmness and indifference, by two hearts destined to love each other. Why had Louis formerly disdained, almost hated, Madame? Why did he now find the same woman so beautiful, so captivating? And why, not only were his thoughts occupied about her, but still more, why were they so continuously occupied about her? Why, in fact, had Madame, whose eyes and mind were sought for in another direction, shown during the last week towards the king a semblance of favor which encouraged the belief of still greater regard. It must not be supposed that Louis proposed to himself any plan of seduction; the tie which united Madame to his brother was, or at least, seemed to him, an insuperable barrier; he was even too far removed from that barrier to perceive its existence. But on the downward path of those passions in which the heart rejoices, towards which youth impels us, no one can decide where to stop, not even the man who has in advance calculated all the chances of his own success or another’s submission. As far as Madame was concerned, her regard for the king may easily be explained: she was young, a coquette, and ardently fond of admiration. Hers was one of those buoyant, impetuous natures, which upon a theatre would leap over the greatest obstacles to obtain an acknowledgement of applause from the spectators. It was not surprising, then, that, after having been adored by Buckingham, by De Guiche, who was superior to Buckingham, even if it were only from that negative merit, so much appreciated by women, that is to say, novelty -- it was not surprising, we say, that the princess should raise her ambition to being admired by the king, who not only was the first person in the kingdom, but was one of the handsomest and cleverest men in Europe. As for the sudden passion with which Louis was inspired for his sister-in-law, physiology would perhaps supply an explanation by some hackneyed commonplace reasons, and nature by means of her mysterious affinity of characters. Madame had the most beautiful black eyes in the world; Louis, eyes as beautiful, but blue. Madame was laughter-loving and unreserved in her manners; Louis, melancholy and diffident. Summoned to meet each other for the first time upon the grounds of interest and common curiosity, these two opposite natures were mutually influenced by the mingling of their reciprocal contradictions of character. Louis, when he returned to his own rooms, acknowledged to himself that Madame was the most attractive woman of his court. Madame, left alone, delightedly thought that she had made a great impression on the king. This feeling with her must remain passive, whilst the king could not but act with all the natural vehemence of the heated fancies of a young man, and of a young man who has but to express a wish to see his wish fulfilled.
+
+The first thing the king did was to announce to Monsieur that everything was quietly arranged; that Madame had the greatest respect, the sincerest affection for him; but that she was of a proud, impetuous character, and that her susceptibilities were so acute as to require very careful management.
+
+Monsieur replied in the reticent tone of voice he generally adopted with his brother, that he could not very well understand the susceptibilities of a woman whose conduct might, in his opinion, expose her to censorious remarks, and that if any one had a right to feel wounded, it was he, Monsieur himself. To this the king replied in a quick tone of voice, which showed the interest he took in his sister-in-law, “Thank Heaven, Madame is above censure.”
+
+“The censure of others, certainly, I admit,” said Monsieur; “but not above mine, I presume.”
+
+“Well,” said the king, “all I have to say, Philip, is that Madame’s conduct does not deserve your censure. She certainly is heedless and singular, but professes the best feelings. The English character is not always well understood in France, and the liberty of English manners sometimes surprises those who do not know the extent to which this liberty is enriched by innocence.”
+
+“Ah!” said Monsieur, more and more piqued, “from the very moment that your majesty absolves my wife, whom I accuse, my wife is not guilty, and I have nothing more to say.”
+
+“Philip,” replied the king hastily, for he felt the voice of conscience murmuring softly in his heart, that Monsieur was not altogether wrong, “what I have done, and what I have said, has been only for your happiness. I was told that you complained of a want of confidence and attention on Madame’s part, and I did not wish your uneasiness to be prolonged. It is part of my duty to watch over your household, as over that of the humblest of my subjects. I have satisfied myself, therefore, with the sincerest pleasure, that your apprehensions have no foundation.”
+
+“And,” continued Monsieur, in an interrogative tone of voice, and fixing his eyes upon his brother, “what your majesty has discovered for Madame -- and I bow myself to your superior judgment -- have you verified for those who have been the cause of the scandal of which I complain?”
+
+“You are right, Philip,” said the king; “I will reserve that point for future consideration.”
+
+These words comprised an order as well as a consolation; the prince felt it to be so, and withdrew.
+
+As for Louis, he went to seek his mother, for he felt that he had need of a more complete absolution than that he had just received from his brother. Anne of Austria did not entertain for M. de Guiche the same reasons for indulgence she had had for Buckingham. She perceived, at the very first words he pronounced, that Louis was not disposed to be severe.
+
+To appear in a contradictory humor was one of the stratagems of the good queen, in order to succeed in ascertaining the truth. But Louis was no longer in his apprenticeship; already for more than a year past he had been king, and during that year he had learned how to dissemble. Listening to Anne of Austria, in order to permit her to disclose her own thoughts, testifying his approval only by look and gesture, he became convinced, from certain piercing glances, and from certain skillful insinuations, that the queen, so clear-sighted in matters of gallantry, had, if not guessed, at least suspected, his weakness for Madame. Of all his auxiliaries, Anne of Austria would be the most important to secure; of all his enemies, Anne of Austria would prove most dangerous. Louis, therefore, changed his maneuvers. He complained of Madame, absolved Monsieur, listened to what his mother had to say of De Guiche, as he had previously listened to what she had to say of Buckingham, and then, when he saw that she thought she had gained a complete victory over him, he left her.
+
+The whole of the court, that is to say, all the favorites and more intimate associates, and they were numerous, since there were already five masters, were assembled in the evening for the repetition of the ballet. This interval had been occupied by poor De Guiche in receiving visits; among the number was one which he hoped and feared nearly to an equal extent. It was that of the Chevalier de Lorraine. About three o’clock in the afternoon the chevalier entered De Guiche’s rooms. His looks were of the most reassuring character. “Monsieur,” said he to De Guiche, “was in an excellent humor, and no none could say that the slightest cloud had passed across the conjugal sky. Besides, Monsieur was not one to bear ill-feeling.”
+
+For a long time past, during his residence at the court, the Chevalier de Lorraine had decided, that of Louis XIII.’s two sons, Monsieur was the one who had inherited the father’s character -- an uncertain, irresolute character; impulsively good, indifferently disposed at bottom; but certainly a cipher for his friends. He especially cheered De Guiche, by pointing out to him that Madame would, before long, succeed in governing her husband, and that, consequently, that man would govern Monsieur who should succeed in influencing Madame.
+
+To this, De Guiche full of mistrust and presence of mind, replied, “Yes, chevalier; but I believe Madame to be a very dangerous person.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“She has perceived that Monsieur is not very passionately inclined towards women.”
+
+“Quite true,” said the Chevalier de Lorraine, laughing.
+
+“In that case, Madame will choose the first one who approaches, in order to make him the object of her preference, and to bring back her husband by jealousy.”
+
+“Deep! deep!” exclaimed the chevalier.
+
+“But true,” replied De Guiche.
+
+Neither the one nor the other expressed his real thought. De Guiche, at the very moment he thus attacked Madame’s character, mentally asked her forgiveness from the bottom of his heart. The chevalier, while admiring De Guiche’s penetration, was leading him, blindfolded, to the brink of the precipice. De Guiche then questioned him more directly upon the effect produced by the scene of the morning, and upon the still more serious effect produced by the scene at dinner.
+
+“But I have already told you they are all laughing at it,” replied the Chevalier de Lorraine, “and Monsieur himself at the head of them.”
+
+“Yet,” hazarded De Guiche, “I have heard that the king paid Madame a visit.”
+
+“Yes, precisely so. Madame was the only one who did not laugh, and the king went to her in order to make her laugh, too.”
+
+“So that -- ”
+
+“So that nothing is altered in the arrangements of the day,” said the chevalier.
+
+“And is there a repetition of the ballet this evening?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Are you sure?”
+
+“Quite,” returned the chevalier.
+
+At this moment of the conversation between the two young men, Raoul entered, looking full of anxiety. As soon as the chevalier, who had a secret dislike for him, as for every other noble character, perceived him enter, he rose from his seat.
+
+“What do you advise me to do, then?” inquired De Guiche of the chevalier.
+
+“I advise you to go to sleep in perfect tranquillity, my dear count.”
+
+“And my advice, De Guiche,” said Raoul, “is the very opposite.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“To mount your horse and set off at once for one of your estates; on your arrival, follow the chevalier’s advice, if you like; and, what is more, you can sleep there as long and as tranquilly as you please.”
+
+“What! set off!” exclaimed the chevalier, feigning surprise; “why should De Guiche set off?”
+
+“Because, and you cannot be ignorant of it -- you particularly so -- because every one is talking about the scene which has passed between Monsieur and De Guiche.”
+
+De Guiche turned pale.
+
+“Not at all,” replied the chevalier, “not at all; and you have been wrongly informed, M. de Bragelonne.”
+
+“I have been perfectly well informed, on the contrary, monsieur,” replied Raoul, “and the advice I give De Guiche is that of a friend.”
+
+During this discussion, De Guiche, somewhat shaken, looked alternately first at one and then at the other of his advisers. He inwardly felt that a game, important in all its consequences for the rest of his life, was being played at that moment.
+
+“Is it not fact,” said the chevalier, putting the question to the count himself, “is it not fact, De Guiche, that the scene was not so tempestuous as the Vicomte de Bragelonne seems to think, and who, moreover, was not himself there?”
+
+“Whether tempestuous or not,” persisted Raoul, “it is not precisely of the scene itself that I am speaking, but of the consequences that may ensue. I know that Monsieur has threatened, I know that Madame has been in tears.”
+
+“Madame in tears!” exclaimed De Guiche, imprudently clasping his hands.
+
+“Ah!” said the chevalier, laughing, “this is indeed a circumstance I was not acquainted with. You are decidedly better informed than I am, Monsieur de Bragelonne.”
+
+“And it is because I am better informed than yourself, chevalier, that I insist upon De Guiche leaving.”
+
+“No, no; I regret to differ from you, vicomte; but his departure is unnecessary. Why, indeed, should he leave? tell us why.”
+
+“The king!”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Yes; I tell you the king has taken up the affair.”
+
+“Bah!” said the chevalier, “the king likes De Guiche, and particularly his father; reflect, that, if the count were to leave, it would be an admission that he had done something which merited rebuke.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“No doubt of it; when one runs away, it is either from guilt or fear.”
+
+“Sometimes, because a man is offended; often because he is wrongfully accused,” said Bragelonne. “We will assign as a reason for his departure, that he feels hurt and injured -- nothing will be easier; we will say that we both did our utmost to keep him, and you, at least, will not be speaking otherwise than the truth. Come, De Guiche, you are innocent, and, being so, the scene of to-day must have wounded you. So set off.”
+
+“No, De Guiche, remain where you are,” said the chevalier; “precisely as M. de Bragelonne has put it, because you are innocent. Once more, forgive me, vicomte; but my opinion is the very opposite to your own.”
+
+“And you are at perfect liberty to maintain it, monsieur; but be assured that the exile which De Guiche will voluntarily impose upon himself will be of short duration. He can terminate it whenever he pleases, and returning from his voluntary exile, he will meet with smiles from all lips; while, on the contrary, the anger of the king may now draw down a storm upon his head, the end of which no one can foresee.”
+
+The chevalier smiled, and muttered to himself, “That is the very thing I wish.” And at the same time he shrugged his shoulders, a movement which did not escape the count, who dreaded, if he quitted the court, to seem to yield to a feeling of fear.
+
+“No, no; I have decided, Bragelonne; I stay.”
+
+“I prophesy, then,” said Raoul, sadly, “that misfortune will befall you, De Guiche.”
+
+“I, too, am a prophet, but not a prophet of evil; on the contrary, count, I say to you, ‘remain.’”
+
+“Are you sure,” inquired De Guiche, “that the repetition of the ballet still takes place?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“Well, you see, Raoul,” continued De Guiche, endeavoring to smile, “you see, the court is not so very sorrowful, or so readily disposed for internal dissensions, when dancing is carried on with such assiduity. Come, acknowledge that,” said the count to Raoul, who shook his head, saying, “I have nothing to add.”
+
+“But,” inquired the chevalier, curious to learn whence Raoul had obtained his information, the exactitude of which he was inwardly forced to admit, “since you say you are well informed, vicomte, how can you be better informed than myself, who am one of the prince’s most intimate companions?”
+
+“To such a declaration I submit. You certainly ought to be perfectly well informed, I admit; and, as a man of honor is incapable of saying anything but what he knows to be true, or of speaking otherwise than what he thinks, I will say no more, but confess myself defeated, and leave you in possession of the field of battle.”
+
+Whereupon Raoul, who now seemed only to care to be left quiet, threw himself upon a couch, whilst the count summoned his servants to aid him in dressing. The chevalier, finding that time was passing away, wished to leave; but he feared, too, that Raoul, left alone with De Guiche, might yet influence him to change his mind. He therefore made use of his last resource.
+
+“Madame,” he said, “will be brilliant; she appears to-day in her costume of Pomona.”
+
+“Yes, that is so,” exclaimed the count.
+
+“And she has just given directions in consequence,” continued the chevalier. “You know, Monsieur de Bragelonne, that the king is to appear as Spring.”
+
+“It will be admirable,” said De Guiche; “and that is a better reason for me to remain than any you have yet given, because I am to appear as Autumn, and shall have to dance with Madame. I cannot absent myself without the king’s orders, since my departure would interrupt the ballet.”
+
+“I,” said the chevalier, “am to be only a simple egypan; true, it is, I am a bad dancer, and my legs are not well made. Gentlemen, adieu. Do not forget the basket of fruit, which you are to offer to Pomona, count.”
+
+“Rest assured,” said De Guiche, delightedly, “I shall forget nothing.”
+
+“I am now quite certain that he will remain,” murmured the Chevalier de Lorraine to himself.
+
+Raoul, when the chevalier had left, did not even attempt to dissuade his friend, for he felt that it would be trouble thrown away; he merely observed to the comte, in his melancholy and melodious voice, “You are embarking in a most dangerous enterprise. I know you well; you go to extremes in everything, and the lady you love does so, too. Admitting for an instant that she should at last love you -- ”
+
+“Oh, never!” exclaimed De Guiche.
+
+“Why do you say never?”
+
+“Because it would be a great misfortune for both of us.”
+
+“In that case, instead of regarding you simply imprudent, I cannot but consider you absolutely mad.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Are you perfectly sure -- mind, answer me frankly -- that you do not wish her whom you love to make any sacrifice for you?”
+
+“Yes, yes; quite sure.”
+
+“Love her, then, at a distance.”
+
+“What! at a distance?”
+
+“Certainly; what matters being present or absent, since you expect nothing from her? Love her portrait, a memento.”
+
+“Raoul!”
+
+“Love is a shadow, an illusion, a chimera; be devoted to the affection itself, in giving a name to your ideality.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“You turn away; your servants approach. I will say no more. In good or bad fortune, De Guiche, depend on me.”
+
+“Indeed I shall do so.”
+
+“Very well; that is all I had to say to you. Spare no pains in your person, De Guiche, and look your very best. Adieu.”
+
+“You will not be present, then, at the ballet, vicomte?”
+
+“No; I shall have a visit to pay in town. Farewell, De Guiche.”
+
+The reception was to take place in the king’s apartments. In the first place, there were the queens, then Madame, and a few ladies of the court, who had been carefully selected. A great number of courtiers, also selected, occupied the time, before the dancing commenced, in conversing, as people knew how to converse in those times. None of the ladies who had received invitations appeared in the costumes of the fete, as the Chevalier de Lorraine had predicted, but many conversations took place about the rich and ingenious toilettes designed by different painters for the ballet of “The Demi-Gods,” for thus were termed the kings and queens of which Fontainebleau was about to become the Pantheon. Monsieur arrived, holding in his hand a drawing representing his character; he looked somewhat anxious; he bowed courteously to the young queen and his mother, but saluted Madame almost cavalierly. His notice of her and his coldness of manner were observed by all. M. de Guiche indemnified the princess by a look of passionate devotion, and it must be admitted that Madame, as she raised her eyes, returned it to him with interest. It is unquestionable that De Guiche had never looked so handsome, for Madame’s glance had its customary effect of lighting up the features of the son of the Marshal de Gramont. The king’s sister-in-law felt a storm mustering above her head; she felt, too, that during the whole of the day, so fruitful in future events, she had acted unjustly, if not treasonably, towards one who loved her with such a depth of devotion. In her eyes the moment seemed to have arrived for an acknowledgement to the poor victim of the injustice of the morning. Her heart spoke, and murmured the name of De Guiche; the count was sincerely pitied and accordingly gained the victory over all others. Neither Monsieur, nor the king, nor the Duke of Buckingham, was any longer thought of; De Guiche at that moment reigned without a rival. But although Monsieur also looked very handsome, still he could not be compared to the count. It is well known -- indeed all women say so -- that a wide difference invariably exists between the good looks of a lover and those of a husband. Besides, in the present case, after Monsieur had left, and after the courteous and affectionate recognition of the young queen and of the queen-mother, and the careless and indifferent notice of Madame, which all the courtiers had remarked; all these motives gave the lover the advantage over the husband. Monsieur was too great a personage to notice these details. Nothing is so certain as a well settled idea of superiority to prove the inferiority of the man who has that opinion of himself. The king arrived. Every one looked for what might possibly happen in the glance, which began to bestir the world, like the brow of Jupiter Tonans. Louis had none of his brother’s gloominess, but was perfectly radiant. Having examined the greater part of the drawings which were displayed for his inspection on every side, he gave his opinion or made his remarks upon them, and in this manner rendered some happy and others wretched by a single word. Suddenly his glance, which was smilingly directed towards Madame, detected the slight correspondence established between the princess and the count. He bit his lips, but when he opened them again to utter a few commonplace remarks, he said, advancing towards the queens: -- 
+
+“I have just been informed that everything is now prepared at Fontainebleau, in accordance with my directions.” A murmur of satisfaction arose from the different groups, and the king perceived on every face the greatest anxiety to receive an invitation for the fetes. “I shall leave to-morrow,” he added. Whereupon the profoundest silence immediately ensued. “And I invite,” said the king, finishing, “all those who are now present to get ready to accompany me.”
+
+Smiling faces were now everywhere visible, with the exception of Monsieur, who seemed to retain his ill-humor. The different noblemen and ladies of the court thereupon defiled before the king, one after the other, in order to thank his majesty for the great honor which had been conferred upon them by the invitation. When it came to De Guiche’s turn, the king said, “Ah! M. de Guiche, I did not see you.”
+
+The comte bowed, and Madame turned pale. De Guiche was about to open his lips to express his thanks, when the king said, “Comte, this is the season for farming purposes in the country; I am sure your tenants in Normandy will be glad to see you.”
+
+The king, after this pitiless attack, turned his back on the poor comte, whose turn it was now to become pale; he advanced a few steps towards the king, forgetting that the king is never spoken to except in reply to questions addressed.
+
+“I have perhaps misunderstood your majesty,” he stammered out.
+
+The king turned his head slightly, and with a cold and stern glance, which plunged like a sword relentlessly into the hearts of those under disgrace, repeated, “I said retire to your estates,” allowing every syllable to fall slowly one by one.
+
+A cold perspiration bedewed the comte’s face, his hands convulsively opened, and his hat, which he held between his trembling fingers, fell to the ground. Louis sought his mother’s glance, as though to show her that he was master; he sought his brother’s triumphant look, as if to ask him if he were satisfied with the vengeance taken; and lastly, his eyes fell upon Madame; but the princess was laughing and smiling with Madame de Noailles. She heard nothing, or rather had pretended not to hear at all. The Chevalier de Lorraine looked on also, with one of those looks of fixed hostility that seemed to give to a man’s glance the power of a lever when it raises an obstacle, wrests it away, and casts it to a distance. M. de Guiche was left alone in the king’s cabinet, the whole of the company having departed. Shadows seemed to dance before his eyes. He suddenly broke through the settled despair that overwhelmed him, and flew to hide himself in his own room, where Raoul awaited him, immovable in his own sad presentiments.
+
+“Well?” he murmured, seeing his friend enter, bareheaded, with a wild gaze and tottering gait.
+
+“Yes, yes, it is true,” said De Guiche, unable to utter more, and falling exhausted upon the couch.
+
+“And she?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“She,” exclaimed his unhappy friend, as he raised his hand clenched in anger, towards Heaven. “She! -- ”
+
+“What did she say and do?”
+
+“She said that her dress suited her admirably, and then she laughed.”
+
+A fit of hysteric laughter seemed to shatter his nerves, for he fell backwards, completely overcome.
+
+Chapter XXXV. Fontainebleau.
+
+For four days, every kind of enchantment brought together in the magnificent gardens of Fontainebleau had converted this spot into a place of the most perfect enjoyment. M. Colbert seemed gifted with ubiquity. In the morning there were the accounts of the previous night’s expenses to settle; during the day, programmes, essays, enrolments, payments. M. Colbert had amassed four millions of francs, and dispersed them with sleepless economy. He was horrified at the expenses which mythology involved; not a wood nymph, nor a dryad, that cost less than a hundred francs a day! The dress alone amounted to three hundred francs. The expense of powder and sulphur for fireworks amounted, every night, to a hundred thousand francs. In addition to these, the illuminations on the borders of the sheet of water cost thirty thousand francs every evening. The fetes had been magnificent; and Colbert could not restrain his delight. From time to time, he noticed Madame and the king setting forth on hunting expeditions, or preparing for the reception of different fantastic personages, solemn ceremonials, which had been extemporized a fortnight before, and in which Madame’s sparkling wit and the king’s magnificence were equally well displayed.
+
+For Madame, the heroine of the fete, replied to the addresses of the deputations from unknown races -- Garamanths, Scythians, Hyperboreans, Caucasians, and Patagonians, who seemed to issue from the ground for the purpose of approaching her with their congratulations; and upon every representative of these races the king bestowed a diamond, or some other article of value. Then the deputies, in verses more or less amusing, compared the king to the sun, Madame to Phoebe, the sun’s sister, and the queen and Monsieur were no more spoken of than if the king had married Henrietta of England, and not Maria Theresa of Austria. The happy pair, hand in hand, imperceptibly pressing each other’s fingers, drank in deep draughts the sweet beverage of adulation, by which the attractions of youth, beauty, power and love are enhanced. Every one at Fontainebleau was amazed at the extent of the influence which Madame had so rapidly acquired over the king, and whispered among themselves that Madame was, in point of fact, the true queen; and in effect, the king himself proclaimed its truth by his every thought, word, and look. He formed his wishes, he drew his inspirations from Madame’s eyes, and his delight was unbounded when Madame deigned to smile upon him. And was Madame, on her side, intoxicated with the power she wielded, as she beheld every one at her feet? This was a question she herself could hardly answer; but what she did know was, that she could frame no wish, and that she felt herself to be perfectly happy. The result of all these changes, the source of which emanated from the royal will, was that Monsieur, instead of being the second person in the kingdom, had, in reality, become the third. And it was now far worse than in the time when De Guiche’s guitars were heard in Madame’s apartments; for, then, at least, Monsieur had the satisfaction of frightening those who annoyed him. Since the departure, however, of the enemy, who had been driven away by means of his alliance with the king, Monsieur had to submit to a burden, heavier, but in a very different sense, to his former one. Every evening Madame returned home quite exhausted. Horse-riding, bathing in the Seine, spectacles, dinners under the leafy covert of the trees, balls on the banks of the grand canal, concerts, etc., etc.; all this would have been sufficient to have killed, not a slight and delicate woman, but the strongest porter in the chateau. It is perfectly true that, with regard to dancing, concerts, and promenades, and such matters, a woman is far stronger than the most robust of porters. But, however great a woman’s strength may be, there is a limit to it, and she cannot hold out long under such a system. As for Monsieur, he had not even the satisfaction of witnessing Madame’s abdication of her royalty in the evening, for she lived in the royal pavilion with the young queen and the queen-mother. As a matter of course, the Chevalier de Lorraine did not quit Monsieur, and did not fail to distil drops of gall into every wound the latter received. The result was, that Monsieur -- who had at first been in the highest spirits, and completely restored since Guiche’s departure -- subsided into his melancholy state three days after the court was installed at Fontainebleau.
+
+It happened, however, that, one day, about two o’clock in the afternoon, Monsieur, who had risen late, and had bestowed upon his toilet more than his usual attention, -- it happened, we repeat, that Monsieur, who had not heard of any plans having been arranged for the day, formed the project of collecting his own court, and of carrying Madame off with him to Moret, where he possessed a charming country house. He accordingly went to the queen’s pavilion, and was astonished, on entering, to find none of the royal servants in attendance. Quite alone, therefore, he entered the rooms, a door on the left opening to Madame’s apartment, the one on the right to the young queen’s. In his wife’s apartment, Monsieur was informed, by a sempstress who was working there, that every one had left at eleven o’clock, for the purpose of bathing in the Seine, that a grand fete was to be made of the expedition, that all the carriages had been placed at the park gates, and that they had all set out more than an hour ago.
+
+“Very good,” said Monsieur, “the idea is a good one; the heat is very oppressive, and I have no objection to bathe, too.”
+
+He summoned his servants, but no one came. He summoned those in attendance on Madame, but everybody had gone out. He went to the stables, where he was informed by a groom that there were no carriages of any description. He desired that a couple of horses should be saddled, one for himself and the other for his valet. The groom told him that all the horses had been sent away. Monsieur, pale with anger, again descended towards the queen’s apartments, and penetrated as far as Anne of Austria’s oratory, where he perceived, through the half-opened tapestry-hangings, his young and beautiful sister on her knees before the queen-mother, who appeared weeping bitterly. He had not been either seen or heard. He cautiously approached the opening, and listened, the sight of so much grief having aroused his curiosity. Not only was the young queen weeping, but she was complaining also. “Yes,” she said, “the king neglects me, the king devotes himself to pleasures and amusements only, in which I have no share.”
+
+“Patience, patience, my daughter,” said Anne of Austria, in Spanish; and then, also in Spanish, added some words of advice, which Monsieur did not understand. The queen replied by accusations, mingled with sighs and sobs, among which Monsieur often distinguished the word banos, which Maria Theresa accentuated with spiteful anger.
+
+“The baths,” said Monsieur to himself; “it seems it is the baths that have put her out.” And he endeavored to put together the disconnected phrases which he had been able to understand. It was easy to guess that the queen was complaining bitterly, and that, if Anne of Austria did not console her, she at least endeavored to do so. Monsieur was afraid to be detected listening at the door and he therefore made up his mind to cough; the two queens turned round at the sound and Monsieur entered. At sight of the prince, the young queen rose precipitately, and dried her tears. Monsieur, however, knew the people he had to deal with too well, and was naturally too polite to remain silent, and he accordingly saluted them. The queen-mother smiled pleasantly at him, saying, “What do you want, Philip?”
+
+“I? -- nothing,” stammered Monsieur. “I was looking for -- ”
+
+“Whom?”
+
+“I was looking for Madame.”
+
+“Madame is at the baths.”
+
+“And the king?” said Monsieur, in a tone which made the queen tremble.
+
+“The king also, the whole court as well,” replied Anne of Austria.
+
+“Except you, madame,” said Monsieur.
+
+“Oh! I,” said the young queen, “I seem to terrify all those who amuse themselves.”
+
+“And so do I, -- judging from appearances,” rejoined Monsieur.
+
+Anne of Austria made a sigh to her daughter-in-law, who withdrew, weeping.
+
+Monsieur’s brows contracted, as he remarked aloud, “What a cheerless house. What do you think of it, mother?”
+
+“Why, no; everybody here is pleasure-hunting.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, that is the very thing that makes those dull who do not care for pleasure.”
+
+“In what a tone you say that, Philip.”
+
+“Upon my word, madame, I speak as I think.”
+
+“Explain yourself; what is the matter?”
+
+“Ask my sister-in-law, rather, who, just now, was detailing all her grievances to you.”
+
+“Her grievances, what -- ”
+
+“Yes, I was listening; accidentally, I confess, but still I listened -- so that I heard only too well my sister complain of those famous baths of Madame -- ”
+
+“Ah! folly!”
+
+“No, no, no; people are not always foolish when they weep. The queen said banos, which means baths.”
+
+“I repeat, Philip,” said Anne of Austria, “that your sister is childishly jealous.”
+
+“In that case, madame,” replied the prince, “I, too, must with great humility accuse myself of possessing the same defect.”
+
+“You also, Philip?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Are you really jealous of these baths?”
+
+“And why not, madame, when the king goes to the baths with my wife, and does not take the queen? Why not, when Madame goes to the baths with the king, and does not do me the honor to even invite me? And you enjoin my sister-in-law to be satisfied, and require me to be satisfied, too.”
+
+“You are raving, my dear Philip,” said Anne of Austria; “you have driven the Duke of Buckingham away; you have been the cause of M. de Guiche’s exile; do you now wish to send the king away from Fontainebleau?”
+
+“I do not pretend to anything of the kind, madame,” said Monsieur, bitterly; “but, at least, I can withdraw, and I shall do so.”
+
+“Jealous of the king -- jealous of your brother?”
+
+“Yes, madame, I am jealous of the king -- of my own brother, and remarkably jealous, too.”
+
+“Really, Monsieur,” exclaimed Anne of Austria, affecting to be indignant, “I begin to believe you are mad, and a sworn enemy to my repose. I therefore abandon the place to you, for I have no means of defending myself against such monomanias.”
+
+She arose and left Monsieur a prey to the most extravagant transport of passion. He remained for a moment completely bewildered; then, recovering himself, again went to the stables, found the groom, once more asked him for a carriage or a horse, and upon his reply that there was neither the one or the other, Monsieur snatched a long whip from the hand of a stable-boy, and began to pursue the poor devil of a groom all round the servants’ courtyard, whipping him the while, in spite of his cries and excuses; then, quite out of breath, covered with perspiration, and trembling in every limb, he returned to his own apartments, broke in pieces some beautiful specimens of porcelain, and then got into bed, booted and spurred as he was, crying out for some one to come to him. [4]
+
+Chapter XXXVI. The Bath.
+
+At Vulaines, beneath the impenetrable shade of flowering osiers and willows, which, as they bent down their green heads, dipped the extremities of their branches in the blue waters, a long and flat-bottomed boat, with ladders covered with long blue curtains, served as a refuge for the bathing Dianas, who, as they left the water, were watched by twenty plumed Acteons, who, eagerly, and full of admiration, galloped up and down the flowery banks of the river. But Diana herself, even the chaste Diana, clothed in her long chlamys, was less beautiful -- less impenetrable, than Madame, as young and beautiful as that goddess herself. For, notwithstanding the fine tunic of the huntress, her round and delicate knee can be seen; and notwithstanding the sonorous quiver, her brown shoulders can be detected; whereas, in Madame’s case, a long white veil enveloped her, wrapping her round and round a hundred times, as she resigned herself into the hands of her female attendants, and thus was rendered inaccessible to the most indiscreet, as well as to the most penetrating gaze. When she ascended the ladder, the poets were present -- and all were poets when Madame was the subject of discussion -- the twenty poets who were galloping about, stopped, and with one voice, exclaimed that pearls, and not drops of water, were falling from her person, to be lost again in the happy river. The king, the center of these effusions, and of this respectful homage, imposed silence upon those expatiators, for whom it seemed impossible to exhaust their raptures, and he rode away, for fear of offending, even through the silken curtains, the modesty of the woman and the dignity of the princess. A great blank thereupon ensued in the scene, and perfect silence in the boat. From the movements on board -- from the flutterings and agitations of the curtains -- the goings to and fro of the female attendants engaged in their duties, could be guessed.
+
+The king smilingly listened to the conversation of the courtiers around him, but it could easily be perceived that he gave but little, if any, attention to their remarks. In fact, hardly had the sound of the rings drawn along the curtain-rods announced that Madame was dressed, and that the goddess was about to make her reappearance, than the king, returning to his former post immediately, and running quite close to the river-bank, gave the signal for all those to approach whose duty or pleasure summoned them to Madame’s side. The pages hurried forward, conducting the led horses; the carriages, which had remained sheltered under the trees, advanced towards the tent, followed by a crowd of servants, bearers, and female attendants, who, while their masters had been bathing, had mutually exchanged their own observations, critical remarks, and the discussion of matters personal -- the fugitive journal of that period, of which no one now remembers anything, not even by the waves, the witnesses of what went on that day -- themselves now sublimed into immensity, as the actors have vanished into eternity.
+
+A crowd of people swarming upon the banks of the river, without reckoning the groups of peasants drawn together by their anxiety to see the king and the princess, was, for many minutes, the most disorderly, but the most agreeable, mob imaginable. The king dismounted from his horse, a movement which was imitated by all the courtiers, and offered his hat to Madame, whose rich riding-habit displayed her fine figure, which was set off to great advantage by that garment, made of fine woolen cloth embroidered with silver. Her hair, still damp and blacker than jet, hung in heavy masses upon her white and delicate neck. Joy and health sparkled in her beautiful eyes; composed, yet full of energy, she inhaled the air in deep draughts, under a lace parasol, which was borne by one of her pages. Nothing could be more charming, more graceful, more poetical, than these two figures buried under the rose-colored shade of the parasol, the king, whose white teeth were displayed in continual smiles, and Madame, whose black eyes sparkled like carbuncles in the glittering reflection of the changing hues of the silk. When Madame approached her horse, a magnificent animal of Andalusian breed, of spotless white, somewhat heavy, perhaps, but with a spirited and splendid head, in which the mixture, happily combined, of Arabian and Spanish blood could be readily traced, and whose long tail swept the ground; and as the princess affected difficulty in mounting, the king took her in his arms in such a manner that Madame’s arm was clasped like a circlet of alabaster around the king’s neck. Louis, as he withdrew, involuntarily touched with his lips the arm, which was not withheld, and the princess having thanked her royal equerry, every one sprang to his saddle at the same moment. The king and Madame drew aside to allow the carriages, the outriders, and runners, to pass by. A fair proportion of the cavaliers, released from the restraint etiquette had imposed upon them, gave the rein to their horses, and darted after the carriages which bore the maids of honor, as blooming as so many virgin huntresses around Diana, and the human whirlwind, laughing, chattering, and noisy, passed onward.
+
+The king and Madame, however, kept their horses in hand at a foot-pace. Behind his majesty and his sister-in-law, certain of the courtiers -- those, at least, who were seriously disposed or were anxious to be within reach, or under the eyes, of the king -- followed at a respectful distance, restraining their impatient horses, regulating their pace by that of the king and Madame, and abandoned themselves to all the delight and gratification which is to be found in the conversation of clever people, who can, with perfect courtesy, make a thousand atrocious, but laughable remarks about their neighbors. In their stifled laughter, and in the little reticences of their sardonic humor, Monsieur, the poor absentee, was not spared. But they pitied, and bewailed greatly, the fate of De Guiche, and it must be confessed that their compassion, as far as he was concerned, was not misplaced. The king and Madame having breathed the horses, and repeated a hundred times over such remarks as the courtiers, who supplied them with talk, suggested to them, set off at a hand gallop, and the leafy coverts of the forest resounded to the footfalls of the mounted party. To the conversations beneath the shade of the trees, -- to remarks made in the shape of confidential communications, and observations, mysteriously exchanged, succeeded the noisiest bursts of laughter; -- from the very outriders to royalty itself, merriment seemed to spread. Every one began to laugh and to cry out. The magpies and the jays fluttered away uttering their guttural cries, beneath the waving avenues of oaks; the cuckoo staid his monotonous cry in the recesses of the forest; the chaffinch and tomtit flew away in clouds; while the terrified deer bounded riverwards from the midst of the thickets. This crowd, spreading joy, confusion, and light wherever it passed, was heralded, it may be said, to the chateau by its own clamor. As the king and Madame entered the village, they were received by the acclamations of the crowd. Madame hastened to look for Monsieur, for she instinctively understood that he had been far too long kept from sharing in this joy. The king went to rejoin the queens; he knew he owed them -- one especially -- a compensation for his long absence. But Madame was not admitted to Monsieur’s apartments, and she was informed that Monsieur was asleep. The king, instead of being met by Maria Theresa smiling, as was usual with her, found Anne of Austria in the gallery watching for his return, who advanced to meet him, and taking him by the hand, led him to her own apartment. No one ever knew what was the nature of the conversation which took place between them, or rather what it was that the queen-mother said to Louis XIV.; but the general tenor of the interview might certainly be guessed from the annoyed expression of the king’s face as he left her.
+
+But we, whose mission it is to interpret all things, as it is also to communicate our interpretations to our readers, -- we should fail in our duty, if we were to leave them in ignorance of the result of this interview. It will be found sufficiently detailed, at least we hope so, in the following chapter.
+
+Chapter XXXVII. The Butterfly-Chase.
+
+The king, on retiring to his apartments to give some directions and to arrange his ideas, found on his toilette-glass a small note, the handwriting of which seemed disguised. He opened it and read -- “Come quickly, I have a thousand things to say to you.” The king and Madame had not been separated a sufficiently long time for these thousand things to be the result of the three thousand which they had been saying to each other during the route which separated Vulaines from Fontainebleau. The confused and hurried character of the note gave the king a great deal to reflect upon. He occupied himself but slightly with his toilette, and set off to pay his visit to Madame. The princess, who did not wish to have the appearance of expecting him, had gone into the gardens with the ladies of her suite. When the king was informed that Madame had left her apartments and had gone for a walk in the gardens, he collected all the gentlemen he could find, and invited them to follow him. He found Madame engaged in chasing butterflies, on a large lawn bordered with heliotrope and flowering broom. She was looking on as the most adventurous and youngest of her ladies ran to and fro, and with her back turned to a high hedge, very impatiently awaited the arrival of the king, with whom she had appointed the rendezvous. The sound of many feet upon the gravel walk made her turn round. Louis XIV. was hatless, he had struck down with his cane a peacock butterfly, which Monsieur de Saint-Aignan had picked up from the ground quite stunned.
+
+“You see, Madame,” said the king, as he approached her, “that I, too, am hunting on your behalf!” and then, turning towards those who had accompanied him, said, “Gentlemen, see if each of you cannot obtain as much for these ladies,” a remark which was a signal for all to retire. And thereupon a curious spectacle might have been observed; old and corpulent courtiers were seen running after butterflies, losing their hats as they ran, and with their raised canes cutting down the myrtles and the furze, as they would have done the Spaniards.
+
+The king offered Madame his arm, and they both selected, as the center of observation, a bench with a roof of boards and moss, a kind of hut roughly designed by the modest genius of one of the gardeners who had inaugurated the picturesque and fanciful amid the formal style of the gardening of that period. This sheltered retreat, covered with nasturtiums and climbing roses, screened the bench, so that the spectators, insulated in the middle of the lawn, saw and were seen on every side, but could not be heard, without perceiving those who might approach for the purpose of listening. Seated thus, the king made a sign of encouragement to those who were running about; and then, as if he were engaged with Madame in a dissertation upon the butterfly, which he had thrust through with a gold pin and fastened on his hat, said to her, “How admirably we are placed here for conversations.”
+
+“Yes, sire, for I wished to be heard by you alone, and yet to be seen by every one.”
+
+“And I also,” said Louis.
+
+“My note surprised you?”
+
+“Terrified me rather. But what I have to tell you is more important.”
+
+“It cannot be, sire. Do you know that Monsieur refuses to see me?”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Can you not guess why?”
+
+“Ah, Madame! in that case we have both the same thing to say to each other.”
+
+“What has happened to you, then?”
+
+“You wish me to begin?”
+
+“Yes, for I have told you all.”
+
+“Well, then, as soon as I returned, I found my mother waiting for me, and she led me away to her own apartments.”
+
+“The queen-mother?” said Madame, with some anxiety, “the matter is serious then.”
+
+“Indeed it is, for she told me... but, in the first place, allow me to preface what I have to say with one remark. Has Monsieur ever spoken to you about me?”
+
+“Often.”
+
+“Has he ever spoken to you about his jealousy?”
+
+“More frequently still.”
+
+“Of his jealousy of me?”
+
+“No, but of the Duke of Buckingham and De Guiche.”
+
+“Well, Madame, Monsieur’s present idea is a jealousy of myself.”
+
+“Really,” replied the princess, smiling archly.
+
+“And it really seems to me,” continued the king, “that we have never given any ground -- ”
+
+“Never! at least I have not. But who told you that Monsieur was jealous?”
+
+“My mother represented to me that Monsieur entered her apartments like a madman, that he uttered a thousand complaints against you, and -- forgive me for saying it -- against your coquetry. It appears that Monsieur indulges in injustice, too.”
+
+“You are very kind, sire.”
+
+“My mother reassured him; but he pretended that people reassure him too often, and that he had had quite enough of it.”
+
+“Would it not be better for him not to make himself uneasy in any way?”
+
+“The very thing I said.”
+
+“Confess, sire, that the world is very wicked. Is it possible that a brother and sister cannot converse together, or take pleasure in each other’s company, without giving rise to remarks and suspicions? For indeed, sire, we are doing no harm, and have no intention of doing any.” And she looked at the king with that proud yet provoking glance that kindles desire in the coldest and wisest of men.
+
+“No!” sighed the king, “that is true.”
+
+“You know very well, sire, that if it were to continue, I should be obliged to make a disturbance. Do you decide upon our conduct, and say whether it has, or has not, been perfectly correct.”
+
+“Oh, certainly -- perfectly correct.”
+
+“Often alone together, -- for we delight in the same things, -- we might possibly be led away into error, but have we been? I regard you as a brother, and nothing more.”
+
+The king frowned. She continued:
+
+“Your hand, which often meets my own, does not excite in me that agitation and emotion which is the case with those who love each other, for instance -- ”
+
+“Enough,” said the king, “enough, I entreat you. You have no pity -- you are killing me.”
+
+“What is the matter?”
+
+“In fact, then, you distinctly say you experience nothing when near me.”
+
+“Oh, sire! I don’t say that -- my affection -- ”
+
+“Enough, Henrietta, I again entreat you. If you believe me to be marble, as you are, undeceive yourself.”
+
+“I do not understand you, sire.”
+
+“Very well,” said the king, casting down his eyes. “And so our meetings, the pressure of each other’s hand, the looks we have exchanged -- Yes, yes; you are right, and I understand your meaning,” and he buried his face in his hands.
+
+“Take care, sire,” said Madame, hurriedly, “Monsieur de Saint-Aignan is looking at you.”
+
+“Of course,” said Louis, angrily; “never even the shadow of liberty! never any sincerity in my intercourse with any one! I imagine I have found a friend, who is nothing but a spy; a dearer friend, who is only a -- sister!”
+
+Madame was silent, and cast down her eyes.
+
+“My husband is jealous,” she murmured, in a tone of which nothing could equal its sweetness and charm.
+
+“You are right,” exclaimed the king, suddenly.
+
+“You see,” she said, looking at him in a manner that set his heart on fire, “you are free, you are not suspected, the peace of your house is not disturbed.”
+
+“Alas,” said the king, “as yet you know nothing, for the queen is jealous.”
+
+“Maria Theresa!”
+
+“Stark mad with jealousy! Monsieur’s jealousy arises from hers; she was weeping and complaining to my mother, and was reproaching us for those bathing parties, which have made me so happy.”
+
+“And me too,” answered Madame, by a look.
+
+“When, suddenly,” continued the king, “Monsieur, who was listening, heard the word ‘banos,’ which the queen pronounced with some degree of bitterness, that awakened his attention; he entered the room, looking quite wild, broke into the conversation, and began to quarrel with my mother so bitterly that she was obliged to leave him; so that, while you have a jealous husband to deal with, I shall have perpetually present before me a specter of jealousy with swollen eyes, a cadaverous face, and sinister looks.”
+
+“Poor king,” murmured Madame, as she lightly touched the king’s hand. He retained her hand in his, and in order to press it without exciting suspicion in the spectators, who were not so much taken up with the butterflies that they could not occupy themselves about other matters, and who perceived clearly enough that there was some mystery in the king’s and Madame’s conversation, Louis placed the dying butterfly before his sister-in-law, and bent over it as if to count the thousand eyes of its wings, or the particles of golden dust which covered it. Neither of them spoke; however, their hair mingled, their breaths united, and their hands feverishly throbbed in each other’s grasp. Five minutes passed in this manner.
+
+Chapter XXXVIII. What Was Caught after the Butterflies.
+
+The two young people remained for a moment with their heads bent down, bowed, as it were, beneath the double thought of the love which was springing up in their hearts, and which gives birth to so many happy fancies in the imaginations of twenty years of age. Henrietta gave a side glance, from time to time, at the king. Hers was one of those finely-organized natures capable of looking inwardly at itself, as well as at others at the same moment. She perceived Love lying at the bottom of Louis’s heart, as a skillful diver sees a pearl at the bottom of the sea. She knew Louis was hesitating, if not in doubt, and that his indolent or timid heart required aid and encouragement. “And so?” she said, interrogatively, breaking the silence.
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired Louis, after a moment’s pause.
+
+“I mean, that I shall be obliged to return to the resolution I had formed.”
+
+“To what resolution?”
+
+“To that which I have already submitted to your majesty.”
+
+“When?”
+
+“On the very day we had a certain explanation about Monsieur’s jealousies.”
+
+“What did you say to me then?” inquired Louis, with some anxiety.
+
+“Do you not remember, sire?”
+
+“Alas! if it be another cause of unhappiness, I shall recollect it soon enough.”
+
+“A cause of unhappiness for myself alone, sire,” replied Madame Henrietta; “but as it is necessary, I must submit to it.”
+
+“At least, tell me what it is,” said the king.
+
+“Absence.”
+
+“Still that unkind resolve?”
+
+“Believe me, sire, I have not found it without a violent struggle with myself; it is absolutely necessary I should return to England.”
+
+“Never, never will I permit you to leave France,” exclaimed the king.
+
+“And yet, sire,” said Madame, affecting a gentle yet sorrowful determination, “nothing is more urgently necessary; nay, more than that, I am persuaded it is your mother’s desire I should do so.”
+
+“Desire!” exclaimed the king; “that is a very strange expression to use to me.”
+
+“Still,” replied Madame Henrietta, smilingly, “are you not happy in submitting to the wishes of so good a mother?”
+
+“Enough, I implore you; you rend my very soul.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes; for you speak of your departure with tranquillity.”
+
+“I was not born for happiness, sire,” replied the princess, dejectedly; “and I acquired, in very early life, the habit of seeing my dearest wishes disappointed.”
+
+“Do you speak truly?” said the king. “Would your departure gainsay any one of your cherished thoughts?”
+
+“If I were to say ‘yes,’ would you begin to take your misfortune patiently?”
+
+“How cruel you are!”
+
+“Take care, sire; some one is coming.”
+
+The king looked all round him, and said, “No, there is no one,” and then continued: “Come, Henrietta, instead of trying to contend against Monsieur’s jealousy by a departure which would kill me -- ”
+
+Henrietta slightly shrugged her shoulders like a woman unconvinced. “Yes,” repeated Louis, “which would kill me, I say. Instead of fixing your mind on this departure, does not your imagination -- or rather does not your heart -- suggest some expedient?”
+
+“What is it you wish my heart to suggest?”
+
+“Tell me, how can one prove to another that it is wrong to be jealous?”
+
+“In the first place, sire, by giving no motive for jealousy; in other words, in loving no one but the person in question.”
+
+“Oh! I expected more than that.”
+
+“What did you expect?”
+
+“That you would simply tell me that jealous people are pacified by concealing the affection which is entertained for the object of jealousy.”
+
+“Dissimulation is difficult, sire.”
+
+“Yet it is only be means of conquering difficulties that any happiness is attained. As far as I am concerned, I swear I will give the lie to those who are jealous of me by pretending to treat you like any other woman.”
+
+“A bad, as well as unsafe, means,” said the young princess, shaking her pretty head.
+
+“You seem to think everything bad, dear Henrietta,” said Louis, discontentedly. “You negative everything I propose. Suggest, at least, something else in its stead. Come, try and think. I trust implicitly to a woman’s invention. Do you invent in your turn?”
+
+“Well, sire, I have hit upon something. Will you listen to it?”
+
+“Can you ask me? You speak of a matter of life or death to me, and then ask if I will listen.”
+
+“Well, I judge of it by my own case. If my husband intended to put me on the wrong scent with regard to another woman, one thing would reassure me more than anything else.”
+
+“What would that be?”
+
+“In the first place to see that he never took any notice of the woman in question.”
+
+“Exactly. That is precisely what I said just now.”
+
+“Very well; but in order to be perfectly reassured on the subject, I should like to see him occupy himself with some one else.”
+
+“Ah! I understand you,” replied Louis, smiling. “But confess, dear Henrietta, if the means is at least ingenious, it is hardly charitable.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“In curing the dread of a wound in a jealous person’s mind, you inflict one upon the heart. His fear ceases, it is true; but the evil still exists; and that seems to me to be far worse.”
+
+“Agreed; but he does not detect, he does not suspect the real enemy; he does no prejudice to love itself; he concentrates all his strength on the side where his strength will do no injury to anything or any one. In a word, sire, my plan, which I confess I am surprised to find you dispute, is mischievous to jealous people, it is true; but to lovers it is full of advantage. Besides, let me ask, sire, who, except yourself, has ever thought of pitying jealous people? Are they not a melancholy crew of grumblers always equally unhappy, whether with or without a cause? You may remove that cause, but you never can remove their sufferings. It is a disease which lies in the imagination, and, like all imaginary disorders, it is incurable. By the by, I remember an aphorism upon this subject, of poor Dr. Dawley, a clever and amusing man, who, had it not been for my brother, who could not do without him, I should have with me now. He used to say, ‘Whenever you are likely to suffer from two affections, choose that which will give you the least trouble, and I will allow you to retain it; for it is positive,’ he said, ‘that that very ailment is of the greatest service to me, in order to enable me to get rid of the other.’”
+
+“Well and judiciously remarked, Henrietta,” replied the king, smiling.
+
+“Oh! we have some clever people in London, sire.”
+
+“And those clever people produce adorable pupils. I will grant this Daley, Darley, Dawley, or whatever you call him, a pension for his aphorism; but I entreat you, Henrietta, to begin by choosing the least of your evils. You do not answer -- you smile. I guess that the least of your bugbears is your stay in France. I will allow you to retain this information; and, in order to begin with the cure of the other, I will this very day begin to look out for a subject which shall divert the attention of the jealous members of either sex who persecute us both.”
+
+“Hush! this time some one is really coming,” said Madame; and she stooped to gather a flower from the thick grass at her feet. Some one, in fact, was approaching; for, suddenly, a bevy of young girls ran down from the top of the hillock, following the cavaliers -- the cause of this interruption being a magnificent hawk-moth, with wings like rose-leaves. The prey in question had fallen into the net of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who displayed it with some pride to her less successful rivals. The queen of the chase had seated herself some twenty paces from the bank on which Louis and Madame Henrietta were reclining; and leaned her back against a magnificent oak-tree entwined with ivy, and stuck the butterfly on the long cane she carried in her hand. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was very beautiful, and the gentlemen, accordingly, deserted her companions, and under the pretext of complimenting her upon her success, pressed in a circle around her. The king and princess looked gloomily at this scene, as spectators of maturer age look on at the games of little children. “They seem to be amusing themselves there,” said the king.
+
+“Greatly, sire; I have always found that people are amused wherever youth and beauty are to be found.”
+
+“What do you think of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, Henrietta?” inquired the king.
+
+“I think she has rather too much flax-yellow and lily-whiteness in her complexion,” replied Madame, fixing in a moment upon the only fault it was possible to find in the almost perfect beauty of the future Madame de Montespan.”
+
+“Rather too fair, yes; but beautiful, I think, in spite of that.”
+
+“Is that your opinion, sire?”
+
+“Yes, really.”
+
+“Very well; and it is mine, too.”
+
+“And she seems to be much sought after.”
+
+“On, that is a matter of course. Lovers flutter from one to another. If we had hunted for lovers instead of butterflies, you can see, from those who surround her, what successful sport we should have had.”
+
+“Tell me, Henrietta, what would be said if the king were to make himself one of those lovers, and let his glance fall in that direction? Would some one else be jealous, in such a case?”
+
+“Oh! sire, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is a very efficacious remedy,” said Madame, with a sigh. “She would cure a jealous man, certainly; but she might possibly make a woman jealous, too.”
+
+“Henrietta,” exclaimed Louis, “you fill my heart with joy. Yes, yes; Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is far too beautiful to serve as a cloak.”
+
+“A king’s cloak,” said Madame Henrietta, smiling, “ought to be beautiful.”
+
+“Do you advise me to do it, then?” inquired Louis.
+
+“I! what should I say, sire, except that to give such an advice would be to supply arms against myself? It would be folly or pride to advise you to take, for the heroine of an assumed affection, a woman more beautiful than the one for whom you pretend to feel real regard.”
+
+The king tried to take Madame’s hand in his own; his eyes sought hers; and then he murmured a few words so full of tenderness, but pronounced in so low a tone, that the historian, who ought to hear everything, could not hear them. Then, speaking aloud, he said, “Do you yourself choose for me the one who is to cure our jealous friend. To her, then, all my devotion, all my attention, all the time that I can spare from my occupations, shall be devoted. For her shall be the flower that I may pluck for you, the fond thoughts with which you have inspired me. Towards her I will direct the glance I dare not bestow upon you, and which ought to be able to rouse you from your indifference. But, be careful in your selection, lest, in offering her the rose which I may have plucked, I find myself conquered by you; and my looks, my hand, my lips, turn immediately towards you, even were the whole world to guess my secret.”
+
+While these words escaped from the king’s lips, in a stream of wild affection, Madame blushed, breathless, happy, proud, almost intoxicated with delight. She could find nothing to say in reply; her pride and her thirst for homage were satisfied. “I shall fail,” she said, raising her beautiful black eyes, “but not as you beg me, for all this incense which you wish to burn on the altar of another divinity. Ah! sire, I too shall be jealous of it, and want restored to me; and would not that a particle of it should be lost in the way. Therefore, sire, with your royal permission, I will choose one who shall appear to me the least likely to distract your attention, and who will leave my image intact and unshadowed in your heart.”
+
+“Happily for me,” said the king, “your heart is not hard and unfeeling. If it were so, I should be alarmed at the threat you hold out. Precautions were taken on this point, and around you, as around myself, it would be difficult to meet with a disagreeable-looking face.”
+
+Whilst the king was speaking, Madame had risen from her seat, looked around the greensward, and after a careful and silent examination, she called the king to her side, and said, “See yonder, sire, upon the declivity of that little hill, near that group of Guelder roses, that beautiful girl walking alone, her head down, her arms hanging by her side, with her eyes fixed upon the flowers, which she crushes beneath her feet, like one who is lost in thought.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Valliere, do you mean?” remarked the king.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Oh!”
+
+“Will she not suit you, sire?”
+
+“Why, look how thin the poor child is. She has hardly any flesh upon her bones.”
+
+“Nay: am I stout then?”
+
+“She is so melancholy.”
+
+“The greater contrast to myself, who am accused of being too lively.”
+
+“She is lame.”
+
+“Do you really think so?”
+
+“No doubt of it. Look; she has allowed every one to pass by her, through fear of her defect being remarked.”
+
+“Well, she will not run so fast as Daphne, and will not be as able to escape Apollo.”
+
+“Henrietta,” said the king, out of temper; “of all your maids of honor, you have really selected for me the one most full of defects.”
+
+“Still she is one of my maids of honor.”
+
+“Of course; but what do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that, in order to visit this new divinity, you will not be able to do so without paying a visit to my apartments, and that, as propriety will forbid your conversing with her in private, you will be compelled to see her in my circle, to speak, as it were, at me, while speaking to her. I mean, in fact, that those who may be jealous, will be wrong if they suppose you come to my apartments for my sake, since you will go there for Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Who happens to be lame.”
+
+“Hardly that.”
+
+“Who never opens her lips.”
+
+“But who, when she does open them, displays a beautiful set of teeth.”
+
+“Who may serve as a model for an osteologist.”
+
+“Your favor will change her appearance.”
+
+“Henrietta!”
+
+“At all events you allowed me to choose.”
+
+“Alas! yes.”
+
+“Well, my choice is made: I impose her upon you, and you must submit.”
+
+“Oh! I would accept one of the furies, if you were to insist upon it.”
+
+“La Valliere is as gentle as a lamb: do not fear she will ever contradict you when you tell her you love her,” said Madame, laughing.
+
+“You are not afraid, are you, that I shall say too much to her?”
+
+“It would be for my sake.”
+
+“The treaty is agreed to, then?”
+
+“Not only so, but signed. You will continue to show me the friendship of a brother, the attention of a brother, the gallantry of a monarch, will you not?”
+
+“I will preserve for you intact a heart that has already become accustomed to beat only at your command.”
+
+“Very well, do you not see that we have guaranteed the future by this means?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“Will your mother cease to regard me as an enemy?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Will Maria Theresa leave off speaking in Spanish before Monsieur, who has a horror of conversation held in foreign languages, because he always thinks he is being ill spoken of? and lastly,” continued the princess, “will people persist in attributing a wrongful affection to the king when the truth is, we can offer nothing to each other, except absolute sympathy, free from mental reservation?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the king, hesitatingly. “But other things may still be said of us.”
+
+“What can be said, sire? shall we never be left in tranquillity?”
+
+“People will say I am deficient in taste; but what is my self-respect in comparison with your tranquillity?”
+
+“In comparison with my honor, sire, and that of our family, you mean. Besides, I beg you to attend, do not be so hastily prejudiced against La Valliere. She is slightly lame, it is true, but she is not deficient in good sense. Moreover, all that the king touches is converted into gold.”
+
+“Well, Madame, rest assured of one thing, namely, that I am still grateful to you: you might even yet make me pay dearer for your stay in France.”
+
+“Sire, some one approaches.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“One last word.”
+
+“Say it.”
+
+“You are prudent and judicious, sire; but in the present instance you will be obliged to summon to your aid all your prudence, and all your judgment.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Louis, laughing, “from this very day I shall begin to act my part, and you shall see whether I am not quite fit to represent the character of a tender swain. After luncheon, there will be a promenade in the forest, and then there is supper and the ballet at ten o’clock.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“The ardor of my passion shall blaze more brilliantly than the fireworks, shall shine more steadily than our friend Colbert’s lamps; it shall shine so dazzlingly that the queens and Monsieur will be almost blinded by it.”
+
+“Take care, sire, take care.”
+
+“In Heaven’s name, what have I done, then?”
+
+“I shall begin to recall the compliments I paid you just now. You prudent! you wise! did I say? Why, you begin by the most reckless inconsistencies! Can a passion be kindled in this manner, like a torch, in a moment? Can a monarch, such as you are, without any preparation, fall at the feet of a girl like La Valliere?”
+
+“Ah! Henrietta, now I understand you. We have not yet begun the campaign, and you are plundering me already.”
+
+“No, I am only recalling you to common-sense ideas. Let your passion be kindled gradually, instead of allowing it to burst forth so suddenly. Jove’s thunders and lightnings are heard and seen before the palace is set on fire. Everything has its commencements. If you are so easily excited, no one will believe you are really captivated, and every one will think you out of your senses -- if even, indeed, the truth itself not be guessed. The public is not so fatuous as they seem.”
+
+The king was obliged to admit that Madame was an angel for sense, and the very reverse for cleverness. He bowed, and said: “Agreed, Madame, I will think over my plan of attack: great military men -- my cousin De Conde for instance -- grow pale in meditation upon their strategical plans, before they move one of the pawns, which people call armies; I therefore wish to draw up a complete plan of campaign; for you know that the tender passion is subdivided in a variety of ways. Well, then, I shall stop at the village of Little Attentions, at the hamlet of Love-Letters, before I follow the road of Visible Affection; the way is clear enough, you know, and poor Madame de Scudery would never forgive me for passing though a halting-place without stopping.”
+
+“Oh! now we have returned to our proper senses, shall we say adieu, sire?”
+
+“Alas! it must be so, for see, we are interrupted.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said Henrietta, “they are bringing Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and her sphinx butterfly in grand procession this way.”
+
+“It is perfectly well understood, that this evening, during the promenade, I am to make my escape into the forest, and find La Valliere without you.”
+
+“I will take care to send her away.”
+
+“Very well! I will speak to her when she is with her companions, and I will then discharge my first arrow at her.”
+
+“Be skillful,” said Madame, laughing, “and do not miss the heart.”
+
+Then the princess took leave of the king, and went forward to meet the merry troop, which was advancing with much ceremony, and a great many pretended flourishes of trumpets, imitated with their mouths.
+
+Chapter XXXIX. The Ballet of the Seasons.
+
+At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o’clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing Spring, which was the result of so much imagination, and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament-workers of the court. As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise. Hardly, therefore, had he finished his conference, and entered his own apartment, than he desired his two masters of the ceremonies, Villeroy and Saint-Aignan, to be sent for. Both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window; the pale-gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters; the swans themselves, even, reposing with folded wings like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. The king, having observed all these things, and contemplated the magnificent picture before him, gave the order which De Villeroy and De Saint-Aignan awaited; but with a view of insuring the execution of this order in a royal manner, one last question was necessary, and Louis XIV. put it to the two gentlemen in the following manner: -- “Have you any money?”
+
+“Sire,” replied Saint-Aignan, “we have arranged everything with M. Colbert.”
+
+“Ah! very well!”
+
+“Yes, sire, and M. Colbert said he would wait upon your majesty, as soon as your majesty should manifest an intention of carrying out the fetes, of which he has furnished the programme.”
+
+“Let him come in, then,” said the king; and as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself au courant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers.
+
+“Ah! M. Colbert,” said the king. “Gentlemen, to your posts,” whereupon Saint-Aignan and Villeroy took their leave. The king seated himself in an easy-chair near the window, saying: “The ballet will take place this evening, M. Colbert.”
+
+“In that case, sire, I will pay all accounts to-morrow.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“I promised the tradespeople to pay their bills the day following that on which the ballet should take place.”
+
+“Very well, M. Colbert, pay them, since you have promised to do so.”
+
+“Certainly, sire; but I must have money to do that.”
+
+“What! have not the four millions, which M. Fouquet promised, been sent? I forgot to ask you about it.”
+
+“Sire, they were sent at the hour promised.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks, have swallowed up four millions in eight days.”
+
+“Entirely?”
+
+“To the last penny. Every time your majesty directed the banks of the grand canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins.”
+
+“Well, well, M. Colbert; the fact is, then, you have no more money?”
+
+“I have no more, sire, but M. Fouquet has,” Colbert replied, his face darkening with a sinister expression of pleasure.
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired Louis.
+
+“We have already made M. Fouquet advance six millions. He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply.”
+
+The king frowned. “M. Colbert,” said he, accentuating the financier’s name, “that is not the way I understood the matter; I do not wish to make use, against any of my servants, of a means of pressure which may oppress him and fetter his services. In eight days M. Fouquet has furnished six millions; that is a good round sum.”
+
+Colbert turned pale. “And yet,” he said, “your majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle-Isle arrived, for instance.”
+
+“You are right, M. Colbert.”
+
+“Nothing, however, has changed since then; on the contrary, indeed.”
+
+“In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed.”
+
+“Does your majesty then no longer believe the disloyal attempt?”
+
+“My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur; and I have already told you I transact them without interference.”
+
+“Then, I perceive,” said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, “that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty.”
+
+“Not at all; you are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me.”
+
+“Yet, sire,” said the minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Louis’s self-esteem, “what use is there in being agreeable to your majesty, if one can no longer be of any use?”
+
+“I reserve your services for a better occasion; and believe me, they will only be the better appreciated.”
+
+“Your majesty’s plan, then, in this affair, is -- ”
+
+“You want money, M. Colbert?”
+
+“Seven hundred thousand francs, sire.”
+
+“You will take them from my private treasure.” Colbert bowed. “And,” added Louis, “as it seems a difficult matter for you, notwithstanding your economy, to defray, with so limited a sum, the expenses which I intend to incur, I will at once sign an order for three millions.”
+
+The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. “Be satisfied, M. Colbert, the plan I have adopted is one worthy of a king,” said Louis XIV., who pronounced these words with all the majesty he knew how to assume in such circumstances; and dismissed Colbert for the purpose of giving an audience to his tailors.
+
+The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau; it was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning; during its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition. At the same moment, as if by enchantment, every one who knew how to hold a needle, every one who could distinguish a coat from a pair of trousers, was summoned to the assistance of those who had received invitations. The king had completed his toilette by nine o’clock; he appeared in an open carriage decorated with branches of trees and flowers. The queens had taken their seats upon a magnificent dias or platform, erected upon the borders of the lake, in a theater of wonderful elegance of construction. In the space of five hours the carpenters had put together all the different parts connected with the building; the upholsterers had laid down the carpets, erected the seats; and, as if at the wave of an enchanter’s wand, a thousand arms, aiding, instead of interfering with each other, had constructed the building, amidst the sound of music; whilst, at the same time, other workmen illuminated the theater and the shores of the lake with an incalculable number of lamps. As the heavens, set with stars, were perfectly unclouded, as not even a breath of air could be heard in the woods, and as if Nature itself had yielded complacently to the king’s fancies, the back of the theater had been left open; so that, behind the foreground of the scenes, could be seen as a background the beautiful sky, glittering with stars; the sheet of water, illuminated by the lights which were reflected in it; and the bluish outline of the grand masses of woods, with their rounded tops. When the king made his appearance, the theater was full, and presented to the view one vast group, dazzling with gold and precious stones; in which, however, at the first glance, no single face could be distinguished. By degrees, as the sight became accustomed to so much brilliancy, the rarest beauties appeared to the view, as in the evening sky the stars appear one by one to him who closes his eyes and then opens them again.
+
+The theater represented a grove of trees; a few fauns lifting up their cloven feet were jumping about; a dryad made her appearance on the scene, and was immediately pursued by them; others gathered round her for her defense, and they quarrelled as they danced. Suddenly, for the purpose of restoring peace and order, Spring, accompanied by his whole court, made his appearance. The Elements, subaltern powers of mythology, together with their attributes, hastened to follow their gracious sovereign. The Seasons, allies of Spring, followed him closely, to form a quadrille, which, after many words of more or less flattering import, was the commencement of the dance. The music, hautboys, flutes, and viols, was delightfully descriptive of rural delights. The king had already made his appearance, amid thunders of applause. He was dressed in a tunic of flowers, which set off his graceful and well-formed figure to advantage. His legs, the best-shaped at court, were displayed to great advantage in flesh-colored silken hose, of silk so fine and so transparent that it seemed almost like flesh itself. The most beautiful pale-lilac satin shoes, with bows of flowers and leaves, imprisoned his small feet. The bust of the figure was in harmonious keeping with the base; Louis’s waving hair floated on his shoulders, the freshness of his complexion was enhanced by the brilliancy of his beautiful blue eyes, which softly kindled all hearts; a mouth with tempting lips, which deigned to open in smiles. Such was the prince of that period: justly that evening styled “The King of all the Loves.” There was something in his carriage which resembled the buoyant movements of an immortal, and he did not dance so much as seem to soar along. His entrance produced, therefore, the most brilliant effect. Suddenly the Comte de Saint-Aignan was observed endeavoring to approach either the king or Madame.
+
+The princess -- who was robed in a long dress, diaphanous and light as the finest network tissue from the hands of skillful Mechlin workers, one knee occasionally revealed beneath the folds of the tunic, and her little feet encased in silken slippers decked with pearls -- advanced radiant with beauty, accompanied by her cortege of Bacchantes, and had already reached the spot assigned to her in the dance. The applause continued so long that the comte had ample leisure to join the king.
+
+“What is the matter, Saint-Aignan?” said Spring.
+
+“Nothing whatever,” replied the courtier, as pale as death; “but your majesty has not thought of Fruits.”
+
+“Yes; it is suppressed.”
+
+“Far from it, sire; your majesty having given no directions about it, the musicians have retained it.”
+
+“How excessively annoying,” said the king. “This figure cannot be performed, since M. de Guiche is absent. It must be suppressed.”
+
+“Ah, sire, a quarter of an hour’s music without any dancing will produce an effect so chilling as to ruin the success of the ballet.”
+
+“But, come, since -- ”
+
+“Oh, sire, that is not the greatest misfortune; for, after all, the orchestra could still just as well cut it out, if it were necessary; but -- ”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“Why, M. de Guiche is here.”
+
+“Here?” replied the king, frowning, “here? Are you sure?”
+
+“Yes, sire; and ready dressed for the ballet.”
+
+The king felt himself color deeply, and said, “You are probably mistaken.”
+
+“So little is that the case, sire, that if your majesty will look to the right, you will see that the comte is in waiting.”
+
+Louis turned hastily towards the side, and in fact, on his right, brilliant in his character of Autumn, De Guiche awaited until the king should look at him, in order that he might address him. To give an idea of the stupefaction of the king, and that of Monsieur, who was moving about restlessly in his box, -- to describe also the agitated movement of the heads in the theater, and the strange emotion of Madame, at the sight of her partner, -- is a task we must leave to abler hands. The king stood almost gaping with astonishment as he looked at the comte, who, bowing lowly, approached Louis with the profoundest respect.
+
+“Sire,” he said, “your majesty’s most devoted servant approaches to perform a service on this occasion with similar zeal that he has already shown on the field of battle. Your majesty, in omitting the dance of the Fruits, would be losing the most beautiful scene in the ballet. I did not wish to be the substance of so dark a shadow to your majesty’s elegance, skill, and graceful invention; and I have left my tenants in order to place my services at your majesty’s commands.”
+
+Every word fell distinctly, in perfect harmony and eloquence, upon Louis XIV.’s ears. Their flattery pleased, as much as De Guiche’s courage had astonished him, and he simply replied: “I did not tell you to return, comte.”
+
+“Certainly not, sire; but your majesty did not tell me to remain.”
+
+The king perceived that time was passing away, that if this strange scene were prolonged it would complicate everything, and that a single cloud upon the picture would eventually spoil the whole. Besides, the king’s heart was filled with two or three new ideas; he had just derived fresh inspiration from the eloquent glances of Madame. Her look had said to him: “Since they are jealous of you, divide their suspicions, for the man who distrusts two rivals does not object to either in particular.” So that Madame, by this clever diversion, decided him. The king smiled upon De Guiche, who did not comprehend a word of Madame’s dumb language, but he remarked that she pretended not to look at him, and he attributed the pardon which had been conferred upon him to the princess’s kindness of heart. The king seemed only pleased with every one present. Monsieur was the only one who did not understand anything about the matter. The ballet began; the effect was more than beautiful. When the music, by its bursts of melody, carried away these illustrious dancers, when the simple, untutored pantomime of that period, only the more natural on account of the very indifferent acting of the august actors, had reached its culminating point of triumph, the theater shook with tumultuous applause.
+
+De Guiche shone like a sun, but like a courtly sun, that is resigned to fill a subordinate part. Disdainful of a success of which Madame showed no acknowledgement, he thought of nothing but boldly regaining the marked preference of the princess. She, however, did not bestow a single glance upon him. By degrees all his happiness, all his brilliancy, subsided into regret and uneasiness; so that his limbs lost their power, his arms hung heavily by his sides, and his head drooped as though he was stupefied. The king, who had from this moment become in reality the principal dancer in the quadrille, cast a look upon his vanquished rival. De Guiche soon ceased to sustain even the character of the courtier; without applause, he danced indifferently, and very soon could not dance at all, by which accident the triumph of the king and of Madame was assured.
+
+Chapter XL: The Nymphs of the Park of Fontainebleau.
+
+The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards Madame, for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion, than others more advanced in years; but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor: so that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipoise, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty years of age. Louis thought of Madame, but only after he had studiously thought of himself; and Madame carefully thought of herself, without bestowing a single thought upon the king. The victim, however, of all these royal affections and affectations, was poor De Guiche. Every one could observe his agitation and prostration -- a prostration which was, indeed, the more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head bewildered, and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed. It rarely happened that any uneasiness was excited on his account, whenever a question of elegance or taste was under discussion; and De Guiche’s defeat was accordingly attributed by the greater number present to his courtier-like tact and ability. But there were others -- keen-sighted observers are always to be met with at court -- who remarked his paleness and his altered looks; which he could neither feign nor conceal, and their conclusion was that De Guiche was not acting the part of a flatterer. All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. When, however, the queens expressed their satisfaction and the spectators their enthusiasm, when the king had retired to his dressing-room to change his costume, and whilst Monsieur, dressed as a woman, as he delighted to be, was in his turn dancing about, De Guiche, who had now recovered himself, approached Madame, who, seated at the back of the theater, was waiting for the second part, and had quitted the others for the purpose of creating a sort of solitude for herself in the midst of the crowd, to meditate, as it were, beforehand, upon chorographic effects; and it will be perfectly understood that, absorbed in deep meditation, she did not see, or rather pretended not to notice, anything that was passing around her. De Guiche, observing that she was alone, near a thicket constructed of painted cloth, approached her. Two of her maids of honor, dressed as hamadryads, seeing De Guiche advance, drew back out of respect., whereupon De Guiche proceeded towards the middle of the circle and saluted her royal highness; but, whether she did or did not observe his salutations, the princess did not even turn her head. A cold shiver passed through poor De Guiche; he was unprepared for such utter indifference, for he had neither seen nor been told of anything that had taken place, and consequently could guess nothing. Remarking, therefore, that his obeisance obtained him no acknowledgement, he advanced one step further, and in a voice which he tried, though vainly, to render calm, said: “I have the honor to present my most humble respects to your royal highness.”
+
+Upon this Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the comte, observing. “Ah! M. de Guiche, is that you? good day!”
+
+The comte’s patience almost forsook him, as he continued, -- “Your royal highness danced just now most charmingly.”
+
+“Do you think so?” she replied with indifference.
+
+“Yes; the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own.”
+
+Madame again turned round, and, looking De Guiche full in the face with a bright and steady gaze, said, -- “Why so?”
+
+“Oh! there can be no doubt of it.”
+
+“Explain yourself?”
+
+“You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant.”
+
+“You mean Pomona, comte?”
+
+“I allude to the goddess.”
+
+Madame remained silent for a moment, with her lips compressed, and then observed, -- “But, comte, you, too, are an excellent dancer.”
+
+“Nay, Madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed.”
+
+With this remark, accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fibers of one’s being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly, and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply Madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and, as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and Mademoiselle de Montalais.
+
+“Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said?” the princess inquired.
+
+“No.”
+
+“It really is very singular,” she continued, in a compassionate tone, “how exile has affected poor M. de Guiche’s wit.” And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, -- “In the first place he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly.”
+
+She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. De Guiche had overheard everything. The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fete by his annoyance, he fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of Autumn in pieces, and scattering, as he went along, the branches of vines, mulberry and almond trees, with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards he returned to the theater; but it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back; or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure. She saw, but did not look at De Guiche, who, irritated and revengeful, turned his back upon her as she passed him, escorted by her nymphs, and followed by a hundred flatterers. During this time, at the other end of the theater, near the lake, a young woman was seated, with her eyes fixed upon one of the windows of the theater, from which were issuing streams of light -- the window in question being that of the royal box. As De Guiche quitted the theater for the purpose of getting into the fresh air he so much needed, he passed close to this figure and saluted her. When she perceived the young man, she rose, like a woman surprised in the midst of ideas she was desirous of concealing from herself. De Guiche stopped as he recognized her, and said hurriedly, -- “Good evening, Mademoiselle de la Valliere; I am indeed fortunate in meeting you.”
+
+“I, also, M. de Guiche, am glad of this accidental meeting,” said the young girl, as she was about to withdraw.
+
+“Pray do not leave me,” said De Guiche, stretching out his hand towards her, “for you would be contradicting the kind words you have just pronounced. Remain, I implore you: the evening is most lovely. You wish to escape from the merry tumult, and prefer your own society. Well, I can understand it; all women who are possessed of any feeling do, and one never finds them dull or lonely when removed from the giddy vortex of these exciting amusements. Oh! Heaven!” he exclaimed, suddenly.
+
+“What is the matter, monsieur le comte?” inquired La Valliere, with some anxiety. “You seem agitated.”
+
+“I! oh, no!”
+
+“Will you allow me, M. de Guiche, to return you the thanks I had proposed to offer you on the very first opportunity? It is to your recommendation, I am aware, that I owe my admission among the number of Madame’s maids of honor.”
+
+“Indeed! Ah! I remember now, and I congratulate myself. Do you love any one?”
+
+“I!” exclaimed La Valliere.
+
+“Forgive me, I hardly know what I am saying; a thousand times forgive me; Madame was right, quite right, this brutal exile has completely turned my brain.”
+
+“And yet it seemed to me that the king received you with kindness.”
+
+“Do you think so? Received me with kindness -- perhaps so -- yes -- ”
+
+“There cannot be a doubt he received you kindly, for, in fact, you returned without his permission.”
+
+“Quite true, and I believe you are right. But have you not seen M. de Bragelonne here?”
+
+La Valliere started at the name. “Why do you ask?” she inquired.
+
+“Have I offended you again?” said De Guiche. “In that case I am indeed unhappy, and greatly to be pitied.”
+
+“Yes, very unhappy, and very much to be pitied, Monsieur de Guiche, for you seem to be suffering terribly.”
+
+“Oh! mademoiselle, why have I not a devoted sister, or a true friend, such as yourself?”
+
+“You have friends, Monsieur de Guiche, and the Vicomte de Bragelonne, of whom you spoke just now, is, I believe, one of the most devoted.”
+
+“Yes, yes, you are right, he is one of my best friends. Farewell, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, farewell.” And he fled, like one possessed, along the banks of the lake. His dark shadow glided, lengthening as it disappeared, among the illumined yews and glittering undulations of the water. La Valliere looked after him, saying, -- “Yes, yes, he, too, is suffering, and I begin to understand why.”
+
+She had hardly finished when her companions, Mademoiselle de Montalais and Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, ran forward. They were released from their attendance, and had changed their costumes of nymphs; delighted with the beautiful night, and the success of the evening, they returned to look after their companion.
+
+“What, already here!” they said to her. “We thought we should be first at the rendezvous.”
+
+“I have been here this quarter of an hour,” replied La Valliere.
+
+“Did not the dancing amuse you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“But surely the enchanting spectacle?”
+
+“No more than the dancing. As far as beauty is concerned, I much prefer that which these dark woods present, in whose depths can be seen, now in one direction and again in another, a light passing by, as though it were an eye, in color like a midnight rainbow, sometimes open, at others closed.”
+
+“La Valliere is quite a poetess,” said Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“In other words,” said Montalais, “she is insupportable. Whenever there is a question of laughing a little or of amusing ourselves, La Valliere begins to cry; whenever we girls have reason to cry, because, perhaps, we have mislaid our dresses, or because our vanity as been wounded, or our costume fails to produce an effect, La Valliere laughs.”
+
+“As far as I am concerned, that is not my character,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente. “I am a woman; and there are few like me; whoever loves me, flatters me; whoever flatters me, pleases me; and whoever pleases -- ”
+
+“Well!” said Montalais, “you do not finish.”
+
+“It is too difficult,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, laughing loudly. “Do you, who are so clever, finish for me.”
+
+“And you, Louise?” said Montalais, “does any one please you?”
+
+“That is a matter that concerns no one but myself,” replied the young girl, rising from the mossy bank on which she had been reclining during the whole time the ballet lasted. “Now, mesdemoiselles, we have agreed to amuse ourselves to-night without any one to overlook us, and without any escort. We are three in number, we like one another, and the night is lovely. Look yonder, do you not see the moon slowly rising, silvering the topmost branches of the chestnuts and the oaks. Oh, beautiful walk! sweet liberty! exquisite soft turf of the woods, the happiness which your friendship confers upon me! let us walk arm in arm towards those large trees. Out yonder all are at this moment seated at table and fully occupied, or preparing to adorn themselves for a set and formal promenade; horses are being saddled, or harnessed to the carriages -- the queen’s mules or Madame’s four white ponies. As for ourselves, we shall soon reach some retired spot where no eyes can see us and no step follow ours. Do you not remember, Montalais, the woods of Cheverny and of Chambord, the innumerable rustling poplars of Blois, where we exchanged our mutual hopes?”
+
+“And confidences too?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “I also think a good deal; but I take care -- ”
+
+“To say nothing,” said Montalais, “so that when Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente thinks, Athenais is the only one who knows it.”
+
+“Hush!” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “I hear steps approaching from this side.”
+
+“Quick, quick, then, among the high reed-grass,” said Montalais; “stoop, Athenais, you are so tall.”
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente stooped as she was told, and, almost at the same moment, they saw two gentlemen approaching, their heads bent down, walking arm in arm, on the fine gravel walk running parallel with the bank. The young girls had, indeed, made themselves small -- indeed invisible.
+
+“It is Monsieur de Guiche,” whispered Montalais in Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente’s ear.
+
+“It is Monsieur de Bragelonne,” whispered the latter to La Valliere.
+
+The two young men approached still closer, conversing in animated tones. “She was here just now,” said the count. “If I had only seen her, I should have declared it to be a vision, but I spoke to her.”
+
+“You are positive, then?”
+
+“Yes; but perhaps I frightened her.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Oh! I was still half crazy at you know what; so that she could hardly have understood what I was saying, and must have grown alarmed.”
+
+“Oh!” said Bragelonne, “do not make yourself uneasy: she is all kindness, and will excuse you; she is clear-sighted, and will understand.”
+
+“Yes, but if she should have understood, and understood too well, she may talk.”
+
+“You do not know Louise, count,” said Raoul. “Louise possesses every virtue, and has not a single fault.” And the two young men passed on, and, as they proceeded, their voices were soon lost in the distance.
+
+“How is it, La Valliere,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, “that the Vicomte de Bragelonne spoke of you as Louise?”
+
+“We were brought up together,” replied Louise, blushing; “M. de Bragelonne has honored me by asking my hand in marriage, but -- ”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“It seems the king will not consent to it.”
+
+“Eh! Why the king? and what has the king to do with it?” exclaimed Aure, sharply. “Good gracious! has the king any right to interfere in matters of that kind? Politics are politics, as M. de Mazarin used to say; but love is love. If, therefore, you love M. de Bragelonne, marry him. I give my consent.”
+
+Athenais began to laugh.
+
+“Oh! I am speaking seriously,” replied Montalais, “and my opinion in this case is quite as good as the king’s, I suppose; is it not, Louise?”
+
+“Come,” said La Valliere, “these gentlemen have passed; let us take advantage of our being alone to cross the open ground and so take refuge in the woods.”
+
+“So much the better,” said Athenais, “because I see the torches setting out from the chateau and the theater, and they seem as if they were preceding some person of distinction.”
+
+“Let us run, then,” said all three. And, gracefully lifting up the long skirts of their silk dresses, they lightly ran across the open space between the lake and the thickest covert of the park. Montalais agile as a deer, Athenais eager as a young wolf, bounded through the dry grass, and, now and then, some bold Acteon might, by the aid of the faint light, have perceived their straight and well-formed limbs somewhat displayed beneath the heavy folds of their satin petticoats. La Valliere, more refined and more bashful, allowed her dress to flow around her; retarded also by the lameness of her foot, it was not long before she called out to her companions to halt, and, left behind, she obliged them both to wait for her. At this moment, a man, concealed in a dry ditch planted with young willow saplings, scrambled quickly up its shelving side, and ran off in the direction of the chateau. The three young girls, on their side, reached the outskirts of the park, every path of which they well knew. The ditches were bordered by high hedges full of flowers, which on that side protected the foot-passengers from being intruded upon by the horses and carriages. In fact, the sound of Madame’s and the queen’s carriages could be heard in the distance upon the hard dry ground of the roads, followed by the mounted cavaliers. Distant music reached them in response, and when the soft notes died away, the nightingale, with throat of pride, poured forth his melodious chants, and his most complicated, learned, and sweetest compositions to those who had met beneath the thick covert of the woods. Near the songster, in the dark background of the large trees, could be seen the glistening eyes of an owl, attracted by the harmony. In this way the fete of the whole court was a fete also for the mysterious inhabitants of the forest; for certainly the deer in the brake, the pheasant on the branch, the fox in its hole, were all listening. One could realize the life led by this nocturnal and invisible population from the restless movements that suddenly took place among the leaves. Our sylvan nymphs uttered a slight cry, but, reassured immediately afterwards, they laughed, and resumed their walk. In this manner they reached the royal oak, the venerable relic of a tree which in its prime has listened to the sighs of Henry II. for the beautiful Diana of Poitiers, and later still to those of Henry IV. for the lovely Gabrielle d’Estrees. Beneath this oak the gardeners had piled up the moss and turf in such a manner that never had a seat more luxuriously rested the wearied limbs of man or monarch. The trunk, somewhat rough to recline against, was sufficiently large to accommodate the three young girls, whose voices were lost among the branches, which stretched upwards to the sky.
+
+Chapter XLI. What Was Said under the Royal Oak.
+
+The softness of the air, the stillness of the foliage, tacitly imposed upon these young girls an engagement to change immediately their giddy conversation for one of a more serious character. She, indeed, whose disposition was the most lively, -- Montalais, for instance, -- was the first to yield to the influence; and she began by heaving a deep sigh, and saying: -- “What happiness to be here alone, and at liberty, with every right to be frank, especially towards one another.”
+
+“Yes,” said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “for the court, however brilliant it may be, has always some falsehood concealed beneath the folds of its velvet robes, or the glitter of its diamonds.”
+
+“I,” replied La Valliere, “I never tell a falsehood; when I cannot speak the truth, I remain silent.”
+
+“You will not long remain in favor,” said Montalais; “it is not here as it was at Blois, where we told the dowager Madame all our little annoyances, and all our longings. There were certain days when Madame remembered that she herself had been young, and, on those days, whoever talked with her found in her a sincere friend. She related to us her flirtations with Monsieur, and we told her of the flirtations she had had with others, or, at least, the rumors of them that had spread abroad. Poor woman, so simple-minded! she laughed at them, as we did. Where is she now?”
+
+“Ah, Montalais, -- laughter-loving Montalais!” cried La Valliere; “you see you are sighing again; the woods inspire you, and you are almost reasonable this evening.”
+
+“You ought not, either of you,” said Athenais, “to regret the court at Blois so much, unless you do not feel happy with us. A court is a place where men and women resort to talk of matters which mothers, guardians, and especially confessors, severely denounce.”
+
+“Oh, Athenais!” said Louise, blushing.
+
+“Athenais is frank to-night,” said Montalais; “let us avail ourselves of it.”
+
+“Yes, let us take advantage of it, for this evening I could divulge the softest secrets of my heart.”
+
+“Ah, if M. Montespan were here!” said Montalais.
+
+“Do you think that I care for M. de Montespan?” murmured the beautiful young girl.
+
+“He is handsome, I believe?”
+
+“Yes. And that is no small advantage in my eyes.”
+
+“There now, you see -- ”
+
+“I will go further, and say, that of all the men whom one sees here, he is the handsomest, and the most -- ”
+
+“What was that?” said La Valliere, starting suddenly from the mossy bank.
+
+“A deer hurrying by, perhaps.”
+
+“I am only afraid of men,” said Athenais.
+
+“When they do not resemble M. de Montespan.”
+
+“A truce to raillery. M. de Montespan is attentive to me, but that does not commit me in any way. Is not M. de Guiche here, he who is so devoted to Madame?”
+
+“Poor fellow!” said La Valliere.
+
+“Why to be pitied? Madame is sufficiently beautiful, and of high enough rank, I suppose.”
+
+La Valliere shook her head sorrowfully, saying, “When one loves, it is neither beauty nor rank; -- when one loves it should be the heart, or the eyes only, of him, or of her whom one loves.”
+
+Montalais began to laugh loudly. “Heart, eyes,” she said; “oh, sugar-plums!”
+
+“I speak for myself;” replied La Valliere.
+
+“Noble sentiments,” said Athenais, with an air of protection, but with indifference.
+
+“Are they not your own?” asked Louise.
+
+“Perfectly so; but to continue: how can one pity a man who bestows his attentions upon such a woman as Madame? If any disproportion exists, it is on the count’s side.”
+
+“Oh! no, no,” returned La Valliere; “it is on Madame’s side.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“I will. Madame has not even a wish to know what love is. She diverts herself with the feeling, as children do with fireworks, form which a spark might set a palace on fire. It makes a display, and that is all she cares about. Besides, pleasure forms the tissue of which she wishes her life to be woven. M. de Guiche loves this illustrious personage, but she will never love him.”
+
+Athenais laughed disdainfully. “Do people really ever love?” she said. “Where are the noble sentiments you just now uttered? Does not a woman’s virtue consist in the uncompromising refusal of every intrigue that might compromise her? A properly regulated woman, endowed with a natural heart, ought to look at men, make herself loved -- adored, even, by them, and say at the very utmost but once in her life, ‘I begin to think that I ought not to have been what I am, -- I should have detested this one less than others.’”
+
+“Therefore,” exclaimed La Valliere, “that is what M. de Montespan has to expect.”
+
+“Certainly; he, as well as every one else. What! have I not said that I admit he possesses a certain superiority, and would not that be enough? My dear child, a woman is a queen during the entire period nature permits her to enjoy sovereign power -- from fifteen to thirty-five years of age. After that, we are free to have a heart, when we only have that left -- ”
+
+“Oh, oh!” murmured La Valliere.
+
+“Excellent,” cried Montalais; “a very masterly woman; Athenais, you will make your way in the world.”
+
+“Do you not approve of what I say?”
+
+“Completely,” replied her laughing companion.
+
+“You are not serious, Montalais?” said Louise.
+
+“Yes, yes; I approve everything Athenais has just said; only -- ”
+
+“Only what?”
+
+“Well, I cannot carry it out. I have the firmest principles; I form resolutions beside which the laws of the Stadtholder and of the King of Spain are child’s play; but when the moment arrives to put them into execution, nothing comes of them.”
+
+“Your courage fails?” said Athenais, scornfully.
+
+“Miserably so.”
+
+“Great weakness of nature,” returned Athenais. “But at least you make a choice.”
+
+“Why, no. It pleases fate to disappoint me in everything; I dream of emperors, and I find only -- ”
+
+“Aure, Aure!” exclaimed La Valliere, “for pity’s sake, do not, for the pleasure of saying something witty, sacrifice those who love you with such devoted affection.”
+
+“Oh, I do not trouble myself much about that; those who love me are sufficiently happy that I do not dismiss them altogether. So much the worse for myself if I have a weakness for any one, but so much the worse for others if I revenge myself upon them for it.”
+
+“You are right,” said Athenais, “and, perhaps, you too will reach the goal. In other words, young ladies, that is termed being a coquette. Men, who are very silly in most things, are particularly so in confounding, under the term of coquetry, a woman’s pride, and love of changing her sentiments as she does her dress. I, for instance, am proud; that is to say, impregnable. I treat my admirers harshly, but without any pretention to retain them. Men call me a coquette, because they are vain enough to think I care for them. Other women -- Montalais, for instance -- have allowed themselves to be influenced by flattery; they would be lost were it not for that most fortunate principle of instinct which urges them to change suddenly, and punish the man whose devotion they so recently accepted.”
+
+“A very learned dissertation,” said Montalais, in the tone of thorough enjoyment.
+
+“It is odious!” murmured Louise.
+
+“Thanks to that sort of coquetry, for, indeed, that is genuine coquetry,” continued Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “the lover who, a little while since, was puffed up with pride, in a minute afterwards is suffering at every pore of his vanity and self-esteem. He was, perhaps, already beginning to assume the airs of a conqueror, but now he retreats defeated; he was about to assume an air of protection towards us, but he is obliged to prostrate himself once more. The result of all this is, that, instead of having a husband who is jealous and troublesome, free from restraint in his conduct towards us, we have a lover always trembling in our presence, always fascinated by our attractions, always submissive; and for this simple reason, that he finds the same woman never twice of the same mind. Be convinced, therefore, of the advantages of coquetry. Possessing that, one reigns a queen among women in cases where Providence has withheld that precious faculty of holding one’s heart and mind in check.”
+
+“How clever you are,” said Montalais, “and how well you understand the duty women owe themselves!”
+
+“I am only settling a case of individual happiness,” said Athenais modestly; “and defending myself, like all weak, loving dispositions, against the oppressions of the stronger.”
+
+“La Valliere does not say a word.”
+
+“Does she not approve of what we are saying?”
+
+“Nay; only I do not understand it,” said Louise. “You talk like people not called upon to live in this world of ours.”
+
+“And very pretty your world is,” said Montalais.
+
+“A world,” returned Athenais, “in which men worship a woman until she has fallen, -- and insult her when she has fallen.”
+
+“Who spoke to you of falling?” said Louise.
+
+“Yours is a new theory, then; will you tell us how you intend to resist yielding to temptation, if you allow yourself to be hurried away by feelings of affection?”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed the young girl, raising towards the dark heavens her beautiful large eyes filled with tears, “if you did but know what a heart is, I would explain, and convince you; a loving heart is stronger than all your coquetry, more powerful than all your pride. A woman is never truly loved, I believe; a man never loves with idolatry, unless he feels sure he is loved in return. Let old men, whom we read of in comedies, fancy themselves adored by coquettes. A young man is conscious of, and knows them; if he has a fancy, or a strong desire, and an absorbing passion, for a coquette, he cannot mistake her; a coquette may drive him out of his senses, but will never make him fall in love. Love, such as I conceive it to be, is an incessant, complete, and perfect sacrifice; but it is not the sacrifice of one only of the two persons thus united. It is the perfect abnegation of two who are desirous of blending their beings into one. If ever I love, I shall implore my lover to leave me free and pure; I will tell him, and he will understand, that my heart was torn by my refusal, and he, in his love for me, aware of the magnitude of my sacrifice, -- he, in his turn, I say, will store his devotion for me, -- will respect me, and will not seek my ruin, to insult me when I shall have fallen, as you said just now, whilst uttering your blasphemies against love, such as I understand it. That is my idea of love. And now you will tell me, perhaps, that my love will despise me; I defy him to do so, unless he be the vilest of men, and my heart assures me that it is not such a man I would choose. A look from me will repay him for the sacrifices he makes, or will inspire him with the virtues which he would never think he possessed.”
+
+“But, Louise,” exclaimed Montalais, “you tell us this, and do not carry it into practice.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“You are adored by Raoul de Bragelonne, who worships you on both knees. The poor fellow is made the victim of your virtue, just as he would be -- nay, more than he would be, even -- of my coquetry, or Athenais’s pride.”
+
+“All this is simply a different shade of coquetry,” said Athenais; “and Louise, I perceive, is a coquette without knowing it.”
+
+“Oh!” said La Valliere.
+
+“Yes, you may call it instinct, if you please, keenest sensibility, exquisite refinement of feeling, perpetual play of restrained outbreaks of affection, which end in smoke. It is very artful too, and very effective. I should even, now that I reflect upon it, have preferred this system of tactics to my own pride, for waging war on members of the other sex, because it offers the advantage sometimes of thoroughly convincing them; but, at the present moment, without utterly condemning myself, I declare it to be superior to the non-complex coquetry of Montalais.” And the two young girls began to laugh.
+
+La Valliere alone preserved silence, and quietly shook her head. Then, a moment after, she added, “If you were to tell me, in the presence of a man, but a fourth part of what you have just said, or even if I were assured that you think it, I should die of shame and grief where I am now.”
+
+“Very well; die, poor tender little darling,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; “for if there are no men here, there are at least two women, your own friends, who declare you to be attained and convicted of being a coquette from instinct; in other words, the most dangerous kind of coquette the world possesses.”
+
+“Oh! mesdemoiselles,” replied La Valliere, blushing, and almost ready to weep. Her two companions again burst out laughing.
+
+“Very well! I will ask Bragelonne to tell me.”
+
+“Bragelonne?” said Athenais.
+
+“Yes! Bragelonne, who is as courageous as Caesar, and as clever and witty as M. Fouquet. Poor fellow! for twelve years he has known you, loved you, and yet -- one can hardly believe it -- he has never even kissed the tips of your fingers.”
+
+“Tell us the reason of this cruelty, you who are all heart,” said Athenais to La Valliere.
+
+“Let me explain it by a single word -- virtue. You will perhaps deny the existence of virtue?”
+
+“Come, Louise, tell us the truth,” said Aure, taking her by the hand.
+
+“What do you wish me to tell you?” cried La Valliere.
+
+“Whatever you like; but it will be useless for you to say anything, for I persist in my opinion of you. A coquette from instinct; in other words, as I have already said, and I say it again, the most dangerous of all coquettes.”
+
+“Oh! no, no; for pity’s sake do not believe that!”
+
+“What! twelve years of extreme severity.”
+
+“How can that be, since twelve years ago I was only five years old? The frivolity of the child cannot surely be placed to the young girl’s account.”
+
+“Well! you are now seventeen; three years instead of twelve. During those three years you have remained constantly and unchangeably cruel. Against you are arrayed the silent shades of Blois, the meetings when you diligently conned the stars together, the evening wanderings beneath the plantain-trees, his impassioned twenty years speaking to your fourteen summers, the fire of his glances addressed to yourself.”
+
+“Yes, yes; but so it is!”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“But why impossible?”
+
+“Tell us something credible and we will believe you.”
+
+“Yet, if you were to suppose one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Suppose that I thought I was in love, and that I am not.”
+
+“What! not in love!”
+
+“Well, then! if I have acted in a different manner to what others do when they are in love, it is because I do not love; and because my hour has not yet come.”
+
+“Louise, Louise,” said Montalais, “take care or I will remind you of the remark you made just now. Raoul is not here; do not overwhelm him while he is absent; be charitable, and if, on closer inspection, you think you do not love him, tell him so, poor fellow!” and she began to laugh.
+
+“Louise pitied M. de Guiche just now,” said Athenais; “would it be possible to detect an explanation of her indifference for the one in this compassion for the other?”
+
+“Say what you please,” said La Valliere, sadly; “upbraid me as you like, since you do not understand me.”
+
+“Oh! oh!” replied Montalais, “temper, sorrow, tears; we are jesting, Louise, and are not, I assure you, quite the monsters you suppose. Look at the proud Athenais, as she is called; she does not love M. de Montespan, it is true, but she would be in despair if M. de Montespan did not continue to love her. Look at me; I laugh at M. Malicorne, but the poor fellow whom I laugh at knows precisely when he will be permitted to press his lips upon my hand. And yet the eldest of us is not twenty yet. What a future before us!”
+
+“Silly, silly girls!” murmured Louise.
+
+“You are quite right,” said Montalais; “and you alone have spoken words of wisdom.”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“I do not dispute it,” replied Athenais. “And so it is clear you do not love poor M. de Bragelonne?”
+
+“Perhaps she does,” said Montalais; “she is not yet quite certain of it. But, in any case, listen, Athenais; if M. de Bragelonne is ever free, I will give you a little friendly advice.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“To look at him well before you decide in favor of M. de Montespan.”
+
+“Oh! in that way of considering the subject, M. de Bragelonne is not the only one whom one could look at with pleasure; M. de Guiche, for instance, has his value also.”
+
+“He did not distinguish himself this evening,” said Montalais; “and I know from very good authority that Madame thought him insupportable.”
+
+“M. de Saint-Aignan produced a most brilliant effect, and I am sure that more than one person who saw him dance this evening will not soon forget him. Do you not think so, La Valliere?”
+
+“Why do you ask me? I did not see him, nor do I know him.”
+
+“What! you did not see M. de Saint-Aignan? Don’t you know him?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Come, come, do not affect a virtue more extravagantly excessive than our vanity! -- you have eyes, I suppose?”
+
+“Excellent.”
+
+“Then you must have seen all those who danced this evening.”
+
+“Yes, nearly all.”
+
+“That is a very impertinent ‘nearly all’ for somebody.”
+
+“You must take it for what it is worth.”
+
+“Very well; now, among all those gentlemen whom you saw, which do you prefer?”
+
+“Yes,” said Montalais, “is it M. de Saint-Aignan, or M. de Guiche, or M. -- ”
+
+“I prefer no one; I thought them all about the same.”
+
+“Do you mean, then, that among that brilliant assembly, the first court in the world, no one pleased you?”
+
+“I do not say that.”
+
+“Tell us, then, who your ideal is?”
+
+“It is not an ideal being.”
+
+“He exists, then?”
+
+“In very truth,” exclaimed La Valliere, aroused and excited; “I cannot understand you at all. What! you who have a heart as I have, eyes as I have, and yet you speak of M. de Guiche, of M. de Saint-Aignan, when the king was there.” These words, uttered in a precipitate manner, and in an agitated, fervid tone of voice, made her two companions, between whom she was seated, exclaim in a manner that terrified her, “The king!”
+
+La Valliere buried her face in her hands. “Yes,” she murmured; “the king! the king! Have you ever seen any one to be compared to the king?”
+
+“You were right just now in saying you had excellent eyes, Louise, for you see a great distance; too far, indeed. Alas! the king is not one upon whom our poor eyes have a right to hinge themselves.”
+
+“That is too true,” cried La Valliere; “it is not the privilege of all eyes to gaze upon the sun; but I will look upon him, even were I to be blinded in doing so.” At this moment, and as though caused by the words which had just escaped La Valliere’s lips, a rustling of leaves, and of what sounded like some silken material, was heard behind the adjoining bushes. The young girls hastily rose, almost terrified out of their senses. They distinctly saw the leaves move, without being able to see what it was that stirred them.
+
+“It is a wolf or a wild boar,” cried Montalais; “fly! fly!” The three girls, in the extremity of terror, fled by the first path that presented itself, and did not stop until they had reached the verge of the wood. There, breathless, leaning against each other, feeling their hearts throb wildly, they endeavored to collect their senses, but could only succeed in doing so after the lapse of some minutes. Perceiving at last the lights from the windows of the chateau, they decided to walk towards them. La Valliere was exhausted with fatigue, and Aure and Athenais were obliged to support her.
+
+“We have escaped well,” said Montalais.
+
+“I am greatly afraid,” said La Valliere, “that it was something worse than a wolf. For my part, and I speak as I think, I should have preferred to have run the risk of being devoured alive by some wild animal than to have been listened to and overheard. Fool, fool that I am! How could I have thought, how could I have said what I did?” And saying this her head bowed like the water tossed plume of a bulrush; she felt her limbs fail, and her strength abandoning her, and, gliding almost inanimate from the arms of her companions, sank down upon the turf.
+
+Chapter XLII. The King’s Uneasiness.
+
+Let us leave poor La Valliere, who had fainted in the arms of her two companions, and return to the precincts of the royal oak. The young girls had hardly run twenty paces, when the sound which had so much alarmed them was renewed among the branches. A man’s figure might indistinctly be perceived, and putting the branches of the bushes aside, he appeared upon the verge of the wood, and perceiving that the place was empty, burst out into a peal of laughter. It is almost superfluous to add that the form in question was that of a young and handsome cavalier, who immediately made a sign to another, who thereupon made his appearance.
+
+“What, sire,” said the second figure, advancing timidly, “has your majesty put our young sentimentalists to flight?”
+
+“It seems so,” said the king, “and you can show yourself without fear.”
+
+“Take care, sire, you will be recognized.”
+
+“But I tell you they are flown.”
+
+“This is a most fortunate meeting, sire; and, if I dared offer an opinion to your majesty, we ought to follow them.”
+
+“They are far enough away by this time.”
+
+“They would quickly allow themselves to be overtaken, especially if they knew who were following them.”
+
+“What do you mean by that, coxcomb that you are?”
+
+“Why, one of them seems to have taken a fancy to me, and another compared you to the sun.”
+
+“The greater reason why we should not show ourselves, Saint-Aignan. The sun never shows itself in the night-time.”
+
+“Upon my word, sire, your majesty seems to have very little curiosity. In your place, I should like to know who are the two nymphs, the two dryads, the two hamadryads, who have so good an opinion of us.”
+
+“I shall know them again very well, I assure you, without running after them.”
+
+“By what means?”
+
+“By their voices, of course. They belong to the court, and the one who spoke of me had a remarkably sweet voice.”
+
+“Ah! your majesty permits yourself to be influenced by flattery.”
+
+“No one will ever say it is a means you make use of.”
+
+“Forgive my stupidity, sire.”
+
+“Come; let us go and look where I told you.”
+
+“Is the passion, then, which your majesty confided to me, already forgotten?”
+
+“Oh! no, indeed. How is it possible to forget such beautiful eyes as Mademoiselle de la Valliere has?”
+
+“Yet the other one has a beautiful voice.”
+
+“Which one?”
+
+“The lady who has fallen in love with the sun.”
+
+“M. de Saint-Aignan!”
+
+“Forgive me, sire.”
+
+“Well, I am not sorry you should believe me to be an admirer of sweet voices as well as of beautiful eyes. I know you to be a terrible talker, and to-morrow I shall have to pay for the confidence I have shown you.”
+
+“What do you mean, sire?”
+
+“That to-morrow every one will know that I have designs upon this little La Valliere; but be careful, Saint-Aignan, I have confided my secret to no one but you, and if any one should speak to me about it, I shall know who has betrayed my secret.”
+
+“You are angry, sire.”
+
+“No; but you understand I do not wish to compromise the poor girl.”
+
+“Do not be afraid, sire.”
+
+“You promise me, then?”
+
+“I give you my word of honor.”
+
+“Excellent,” thought the king, laughing to himself; “now every one will know to-morrow that I have been running about after La Valliere to-night.”
+
+Then, endeavoring to see where he was, he said: “Why we have lost ourselves.”
+
+“Not quite so bad as that, sire.”
+
+“Where does that gate lead to?”
+
+“To Rond-Point, sire.”
+
+“Where were we going when we heard the sound of women’s voices?”
+
+“Yes, sire, and the termination of a conversation in which I had the honor of hearing my own name pronounced by the side of your majesty’s.”
+
+“You return to that subject too frequently, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Your majesty will forgive me, but I am delighted to know that a woman exists whose thoughts are occupied about me, without my knowledge, and without my having done anything to deserve it. Your majesty cannot comprehend this satisfaction, for your rank and merit attract attention, and compel regard.”
+
+“No, no, Saint-Aignan, believe me or not, as you like,” said the king, leaning familiarly upon Saint-Aignan’s arm and taking the path he thought would lead them to the chateau; “but this candid confession, this perfectly disinterested preference of one who will, perhaps, never attract my attention -- in one word, the mystery of this adventure excites me, and the truth is, that if I were not so taken with La Valliere -- ”
+
+“Do not let that interfere with your majesty’s intentions: you have time enough before you.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“La Valliere is said to be very strict in her ideas.”
+
+“You excite my curiosity and I am anxious to see her again. Come, let us walk on.”
+
+The king spoke untruly, for nothing, on the contrary, could make him less anxious, but he had a part to play, and so he walked on hurriedly. Saint-Aignan followed him at a short distance. Suddenly the king stopped; the courtier followed his example.
+
+“Saint-Aignan,” he said, “do you not hear some one moaning?”
+
+“Yes, sire, and weeping, too, it seems.”
+
+“It is in this direction,” said the king. “It sounds like the tears and sobs of a woman.”
+
+“Run,” said the king; and, following a by-path, they ran across the grass. As they approached, the cries were more distinctly heard.
+
+“Help, help,” exclaimed two voices. The king and his companion redoubled their speed, and, as they approached nearer, the sighs they had heard were changed into loud sobs. The cry of “Help! help!” was again repeated; at the sound of which, the king and Saint-Aignan increased the rapidity of their pace. Suddenly at the other side of a ditch, under the branches of a willow, they perceived a woman on her knees, holding another in her arms who seemed to have fainted. A few paces from them, a third, standing in the middle of the path, was calling for assistance. Perceiving the two gentlemen, whose rank she could not tell, her cries for assistance were redoubled. The king, who was in advance of his companion, leaped across the ditch, and reached the group at the very moment when, from the end of the path which led to the chateau, a dozen persons were approaching, who had been drawn to the spot by the same cries that had attracted the attention of the king and M. de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“What is the matter, young ladies?” said Louis.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Montalais, in her astonishment, letting La Valliere’s head fall upon the ground.
+
+“Yes, it is the king; but that is no reason why you should abandon your companion. Who is she?”
+
+“It is Mademoiselle de la Valliere, sire.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere!”
+
+“Yes, sire, she has just fainted.”
+
+“Poor child!” said the king. “Quick, quick, fetch a surgeon.” But however great the anxiety with which the king had pronounced these words may have seemed to others, he had not so carefully schooled himself but that they appeared, as well as the gesture which accompanied them, somewhat cold to Saint-Aignan, to whom the king had confided the sudden love with which she had inspired him.
+
+“Saint-Aignan,” continued the king, “watch over Mademoiselle de la Valliere, I beg. Send for a surgeon. I will hasten forward and inform Madame of the accident which has befallen one of her maids of honor.” And, in fact, while M. de Saint-Aignan was busily engaged in making preparations for carrying Mademoiselle de la Valliere to the chateau, the king hurried forward, happy to have an opportunity of approaching Madame, and of speaking to her under a colorable pretext. Fortunately, a carriage was passing; the coachman was told to stop, and the persons who were inside, having been informed of the accident, eagerly gave up their seats to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. The current of fresh air produced by the rapid motion of the carriage soon recalled her to her senses. Having reached the chateau, she was able, though very weak, to alight from the carriage, and, with the assistance of Athenais and of Montalais, to reach the inner apartments. They made her sit down in one of the rooms of the ground floor. After a while, as the accident had not produced much effect upon those who had been walking, the promenade was resumed. During this time, the king had found Madame beneath a tree with overhanging branches, and had seated himself by her side.
+
+“Take care, sire,” said Henrietta to him, in a low tone, “you do not show yourself as indifferent as you ought to be.”
+
+“Alas!” replied the king, in the same tone, “I much fear we have entered into an agreement above our strength to keep.” He then added aloud, “You have heard of the accident, I suppose?”
+
+“What accident?”
+
+“Oh! in seeing you I forgot I hurried here expressly to tell you of it. I am, however, painfully affected by it; one of your maids of honor, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, has just fainted.”
+
+“Indeed! poor girl,” said the princess, quietly, “what was the cause of it?”
+
+She then added in an undertone, “You forget, sire, that you wish others to believe in your passion for this girl, and yet you remain here while she is almost dying, perhaps, elsewhere.”
+
+“Ah! Madame,” said the king, sighing, “how much more perfect you are in your part than I am, and how actively you think of everything.”
+
+He then rose, saying loud enough for every one to hear him, “Permit me to leave you, Madame; my uneasiness is very great, and I wish to be quite certain, myself, that proper attention has been given to Mademoiselle de la Valliere.” And the king left again to return to La Valliere, while those who had been present commented upon the king’s remark: -- “My uneasiness is very great.”
+
+Chapter XLIII. The King’s Secret.
+
+On his way Louis met the Comte de Saint-Aignan. “Well, Saint-Aignan,” he inquired, with affected interest, “how is the invalid.”
+
+“Really, sire,” stammered Saint-Aignan, “to my shame, I confess I do not know.”
+
+“What! you do not know?” said the king, pretending to take in a serious manner this want of attention for the object of his predilection.
+
+“Will your majesty pardon me; but I have just met one of our three loquacious wood-nymphs, and I confess that my attention has been taken away from other matters.”
+
+“Ah!” said the king, eagerly, “you have found, then -- ”
+
+“The one who deigned to speak of me in such advantageous terms; and, having found mine, I was searching for yours, sire, when I had the happiness to meet your majesty.”
+
+“Very well; but Mademoiselle de la Valliere before everything else,” said the king, faithful to the character he had assumed.
+
+“Oh! our charming invalid!” said Saint-Aignan; “how fortunately her fainting fit came on, since your majesty had already occupied yourself about her.”
+
+“What is the name of your fair lady, Saint-Aignan? Is it a secret?”
+
+“It ought to be a secret, and a very great one, even; but your majesty is well aware that no secret can possibly exist for you.”
+
+“Well, what is her name?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Is she pretty?”
+
+“Exceedingly, sire; and I recognized the voice which pronounced my name in such tender accents. I accosted her, questioned her as well as I was able to do, in the midst of the crowd; and she told me, without suspecting anything, that a little while ago she was under the great oak, with her two friends, when the sound of a wolf or a robber had terrified them, and made them run away.”
+
+“But,” inquired the king, anxiously, “what are the names of these two friends?”
+
+“Sire,” said Saint-Aignan, “will your majesty send me forthwith to the Bastile?”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Because I am an egotist and a fool. My surprise was so great at such a conquest, and at so fortunate a discovery, that I went no further in my inquiries. Besides, I did not think that your majesty would attach any very great importance to what you heard, knowing how much your attention was taken up by Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and then, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente left me precipitately, to return to Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“Let us hope, then, that I shall be as fortunate as yourself. Come, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Your majesty is ambitions, I perceive, and does not wish to allow any conquest to escape you. Well, I assure you that I will conscientiously set about my inquiries; and, moreover, from one or the other of those Three Graces we shall learn the names of the rest, and by the names their secrets.”
+
+“I, too,” said the king, “only require to hear her voice to know it again. Come, let us say no more about it, but show me where poor La Valliere is.”
+
+“Well,” thought Saint-Aignan, “the king’s regard is beginning to display itself, and for that girl too. It is extraordinary; I should never have believed it.” And with this thought passing through his mind, he showed the king the room to which La Valliere had been carried; the king entered, followed by Saint-Aignan. In a low chamber, near a large window looking out upon the gardens, La Valliere, reclining in a large armchair, was inhaling deep draughts of the perfumed evening breeze. From the loosened body of her dress, the lace fell in tumbled folds, mingling with the tresses of her beautiful fair hair, which lay scattered upon her shoulders. Her languishing eyes were filled with tears; she seemed as lifeless as those beautiful visions of our dreams, that pass before the mental eye of the sleeper, half-opening their wings without moving them, unclosing their lips without a sound escaping them. The pearl-like pallor of La Valliere possessed a charm it would be impossible to describe. Mental and bodily suffering had produced upon her features a soft and noble expression of grief; from the perfect passiveness of her arms and bust, she more resembled one whose soul had passed away, than a living being; she seemed not to hear either of the whisperings which arose from the court. She seemed to be communing within herself; and her beautiful, delicate hands trembled from time to time as though at the contact of some invisible touch. She was so completely absorbed in her reverie, that the king entered without her perceiving him. At a distance he gazed upon her lovely face, upon which the moon shed its pure silvery light.
+
+“Good Heavens!” he exclaimed, with a terror he could not control, “she is dead.”
+
+“No, sire,” said Montalais, in a low voice; “on the contrary, she is better. Are you not better, Louise?”
+
+But Louise did not answer. “Louise,” continued Montalais, “the king has deigned to express his uneasiness on your account.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Louise, starting up abruptly, as if a stream of fire had started through her frame to her heart; “the king uneasy about me?”
+
+“Yes,” said Montalais.
+
+“The king is here, then?” said La Valliere, not venturing to look round her.
+
+“That voice! that voice!” whispered Louis, eagerly, to Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Yes, it is so,” replied Saint-Aignan; “your majesty is right; it is she who declared her love for the sun.”
+
+“Hush!” said the king. And then approaching La Valliere, he said, “You are not well, Mademoiselle de la Valliere? Just now, indeed, in the park, I saw that you had fainted. How were you attacked?”
+
+“Sire,” stammered out the poor child, pale and trembling, “I really do not know.”
+
+“You have been walking too far,” said the king; “and fatigue, perhaps -- ”
+
+“No, sire,” said Montalais, eagerly, answering for her friend, “it could not be from fatigue, for we passed most of the evening seated beneath the royal oak.”
+
+“Under the royal oak?” returned the king, starting. “I was not deceived; it is as I thought.” And he directed a look of intelligence at the comte.
+
+“Yes,” said Saint-Aignan, “under the royal oak, with Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“How do you know that?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“In a very simple way. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente told me so.”
+
+“In that case, she probably told you the cause of Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s fainting?”
+
+“Why, yes; she told me something about a wolf or a robber. I forget precisely which.” La Valliere listened, her eyes fixed, her bosom heaving, as if, gifted with an acuteness of perception, she foresaw a portion of the truth. Louis imagined this attitude and agitation to be the consequence of a terror only partially reassured. “Nay, fear nothing,” he said, with a rising emotion which he could not conceal; “the wolf which terrified you so much was simply a wolf with two legs.”
+
+“It was a man, then!” said Louise; “it was a man who was listening?”
+
+“Suppose it was so, mademoiselle, what great harm was there in his having listened? Is it likely that, even in your own opinion, you would have said anything which could not have been listened to?”
+
+La Valliere wrung her hands, and hid her face in them, as if to hide her blushes. “In Heaven’s name,” she said, “who was concealed there? Who was listening?”
+
+The king advanced towards her, to take hold of one of her hands. “It was I,” he said, bowing with marked respect. “Is it likely I could have frightened you?” La Valliere uttered a loud cry; for the second time her strength forsook her; and moaning in utter despair, she again fell lifeless in her chair. The king had just time to hold out his arm; so that she was partially supported by him. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and Montalais, who stood a few paces from the king and La Valliere, motionless and almost petrified at the recollection of their conversation with La Valliere, did not even think of offering their assistance, feeling restrained by the presence of the king, who, with one knee on the ground, held La Valliere round the waist with his arm.
+
+“You heard, sire!” murmured Athenais. But the king did not reply; he remained with his eyes fixed upon La Valliere’s half-closed eyes, and held her quiescent hand in his own.
+
+“Of course,” replied Saint-Aignan, who, on his side, hoping that Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, too, would faint, advancing towards her, holding his arms extended, -- “of course; we did not even lose a single word.” But the haughty Athenais was not a woman to faint easily; she darted a terrible look at Saint-Aignan, and fled. Montalais, with more courage, advanced hurriedly towards Louise, and received her from the king’s hands, who was already fast losing his presence of mind, as he felt his face covered by the perfumed tresses of the seemingly dying girl. “Excellent,” whispered Saint-Aignan. “This is indeed an adventure; and it will be my own fault if I am not the first to relate it.”
+
+The king approached him, and, with a trembling voice and a passionate gesture, said, “Not a syllable, comte.”
+
+The poor king forgot that, only an hour before, he had given him a similar recommendation, but with the very opposite intention; namely, that the comte should be indiscreet. It followed, as a matter of course, that he latter recommendation was quite as unnecessary as the former. Half an hour afterwards, everybody in Fontainebleau knew that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had had a conversation under the royal oak with Montalais and Tonnay-Charente, and that in this conversation she had confessed her affection for the king. It was known, also, that the king, after having manifested the uneasiness with which Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s health had inspired him, had turned pale, and trembled very much as he received the beautiful girl fainting into his arms; so that it was quite agreed among the courtiers, that the greatest event of the period had just been revealed; that his majesty loved Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and that, consequently, Monsieur could now sleep in perfect tranquillity. It was this, even, that the queen-mother, as surprised as the others by the sudden change, hastened to tell the young queen and Philip d’Orleans. Only she set to work in a different manner, by attacking them in the following way: -- To her daughter-in-law she said, “See, now, Therese, how very wrong you were to accuse the king; now it is said he is devoted to some other person; why should there be any greater truth in the report of to-day than in that of yesterday, or in that of yesterday than in that of to-day?” To Monsieur, in relating to him the adventure of the royal oak, she said, “Are you not very absurd in your jealousies, my dear Philip? It is asserted that the king is madly in love with that little La Valliere. Say nothing of it to your wife; for the queen will know all about it very soon.” This latter confidential communication had an immediate result. Monsieur, who had regained his composure, went triumphantly to look after his wife, and it was not yet midnight and the fete was to continue until two in the morning, he offered her his hand for a promenade. At the end of a few paces, however, the first thing he did was to disobey his mother’s injunctions.
+
+“Do not tell any one, the queen least of all,” he said mysteriously, “what people say about the king.”
+
+“What do they say about him?” inquired Madame.
+
+“That my brother has suddenly fallen in love.”
+
+“With whom?”
+
+“With Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+As it was dark, Madame could smile at her ease.
+
+“Ah!” she said, “and how long is it since this has been the case?”
+
+“For some days, it seems. But that was nothing but nonsense; it is only this evening that he has revealed his passion.”
+
+“The king shows his good taste,” said Madame; “in my opinion she is a very charming girl.”
+
+“I verily believe you are jesting.”
+
+“I! in what way?”
+
+“In any case this passion will make some one very happy, even if it be only La Valliere herself.”
+
+“Really,” continued the princess, “you speak as if you had read into the inmost recesses of La Valliere’s heart. Who has told you that she agrees to return the king’s affection?”
+
+“And who has told you that she will not return it?”
+
+“She loves the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“You think so?”
+
+“She is even affianced to him.”
+
+“She was so.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“When they went to ask the king’s permission to arrange the marriage, he refused his permission.”
+
+“Refused?”
+
+“Yes, although the request was preferred by the Comte de la Fere himself, for whom the king has the greatest regard, on account of the part he took in your royal brother’s restoration, and in other events, also, which happened a long time ago.”
+
+“Well! the poor lovers must wait until the king is pleased to change his opinion; they are young, and there is time enough.”
+
+“But, dear me,” said Philip, laughing, “I perceive you do not know the best part of the affair.”
+
+“No!”
+
+“That by which the king was most deeply touched.”
+
+“The king, do you say, has been deeply touched?”
+
+“To the very quick of his heart.”
+
+“But how? -- in what manner? -- tell me directly.”
+
+“By an adventure, the romance of which cannot be equalled.”
+
+“You know how I love to hear of such adventures, and yet you keep me waiting,” said the princess, impatiently.
+
+“Well, then -- ” and Monsieur paused.
+
+“I am listening.”
+
+“Under the royal oak -- you know where the royal oak is?”
+
+“What can that matter? Under the royal oak, you were saying?”
+
+“Well! Mademoiselle de la Valliere, fancying herself to be alone with her two friends, revealed to them her affection for the king.”
+
+“Ah!” said Madame, beginning to be uneasy, “her affection for the king?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“When was this?”
+
+“About an hour ago.”
+
+Madame started, and then said, “And no one knew of this affection?”
+
+“No one.”
+
+“Not even his majesty?”
+
+“Not even his majesty. The artful little puss kept her secret strictly to herself, when suddenly it proved stronger than herself, and so escaped her.”
+
+“And from whom did you get this absurd tale?”
+
+“Why, as everybody else did, from La Valliere herself, who confessed her love to Montalais and Tonnay-Charente, who were her companions.”
+
+Madame stopped suddenly, and by a hasty movement let go her husband’s hand.
+
+“Did you say it was an hour ago she made this confession?” Madame inquired.
+
+“About that time.”
+
+“Is the king aware of it?”
+
+“Why, that is the very thing which constitutes the perfect romance of the affair, for the king was behind the royal oak with Saint-Aignan, and heard the whole of the interesting conversation without losing a single word of it.”
+
+Madame felt struck to the heart, saying incautiously, “But I have seen the king since, and he never told me a word about it.”
+
+“Of course,” said Monsieur; “he took care not to speak of it to you himself, since he recommended every one not to say a word about it.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said Madame, growing angry.
+
+“I mean that they wished to keep you in ignorance of the affair altogether.”
+
+“But why should they wish to conceal it from me?”
+
+“From the fear that your friendship for the young queen might induce you to say something about it to her, nothing more.”
+
+Madame hung down her head; her feelings were grievously wounded. She could not enjoy a moment’s repose until she had met the king. As a king is, most naturally, the very last person in his kingdom who knows what is said about him, in the same way that a lover is the only one who is kept in ignorance of what is said about his mistress, therefore, when the king perceived Madame, who was looking for him, he approached her in some perturbation, but still gracious and attentive in his manner. Madame waited for him to speak about La Valliere first; but as he did not speak of her, she said, “And the poor girl?”
+
+“What poor girl?” said the king.
+
+“La Valliere. Did you not tell me, sire, that she had fainted?”
+
+“She is still very ill,” said the king, affecting the greatest indifference.
+
+“But surely that will prejudicially affect the rumor you were going to spread, sire?”
+
+“What rumor?”
+
+“That your attention was taken up by her.”
+
+“Oh!” said the king, carelessly, “I trust it will be reported all the same.”
+
+Madame still waited; she wished to know if the king would speak to her of the adventure of the royal oak. But the king did not say a word about it. Madame, on her side, did not open her lips about it; so that the king took leave of her without having reposed the slightest confidence in her. Hardly had she watched the king move away, than she set out in search of Saint-Aignan. Saint-Aignan was never very difficult to find; he was like the smaller vessels that always follow in the wake of, and as tenders to, the larger ships. Saint-Aignan was the very man whom Madame needed in her then state of mind. And as for him, he only looked for worthier ears than others he had found to have an opportunity of recounting the event in all its details. And so he did not spare Madame a single word of the whole affair. When he had finished, Madame said to him, “Confess, now, that is his all a charming invention.”
+
+“Invention, no; a true story, yes.”
+
+“Confess, whether invention or true story, that it was told to you as you have told it to me, but that you were not there.”
+
+“Upon my honor, Madame, I was there.”
+
+“And you think that these confessions may have made an impression on the king?”
+
+“Certainly, as those of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did upon me,” replied Saint-Aignan; “do not forget, Madame, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere compared the king to the sun; that was flattering enough.”
+
+“The king does not permit himself to be influenced by such flatteries.”
+
+“Madame, the king is just as much Adonis as Apollo; and I saw plain enough just now when La Valliere fell into his arms.”
+
+“La Valliere fell into the king’s arms!”
+
+“Oh! it was the most graceful picture possible; just imagine, La Valliere had fallen back fainting, and -- ”
+
+“Well! what did you see? -- tell me -- speak!”
+
+“I saw what ten other people saw at the same time as myself; I saw that when La Valliere fell into his arms, the king almost fainted himself.”
+
+Madame smothered a subdued cry, the only indication of her smothered anger.
+
+“Thank you,” she said, laughing in a convulsive manner, “you relate stories delightfully, M. de Saint-Aignan.” And she hurried away, alone, and almost suffocated by painful emotion, towards the chateau.
+
+Chapter XLIV. Courses de Nuit.
+
+Monsieur quitted the princess in the best possible humor, and feeling greatly fatigued, retired to his apartments, leaving every one to finish the night as he chose. When in his room, Monsieur began to dress for the night with careful attention, which displayed itself from time to time in paroxysms of satisfaction. While his attendants were engaged in curling his hair, he sang the principal airs of the ballet which the violins had played, and to which the king had danced. He then summoned his tailors, inspected his costumes for the next day, and, in token of his extreme satisfaction, distributed various presents among them. As, however, the Chevalier de Lorraine, who had seen the prince return to the chateau, entered the room, Monsieur overwhelmed him with kindness. The former, after having saluted the prince, remained silent for a moment, like a sharpshooter who deliberates before deciding in what direction he will renew his fire; then, seeming to make up his mind, he said, “Have you remarked a very singular coincidence, monseigneur?”
+
+“No; what is it?”
+
+“The bad reception which his majesty, in appearance, gave the Comte de Guiche.”
+
+“In appearance?”
+
+“Yes, certainly; since, in reality, he has restored him to favor.”
+
+“I did not notice it,” said the prince.
+
+“What, did you not remark, that, instead of ordering him to go away again into exile, as was natural, he encouraged him in his opposition by permitting him to resume his place in the ballet?”
+
+“And you think the king was wrong, chevalier?” said the prince.
+
+“Are you not of my opinion, prince?”
+
+“Not altogether so, my dear chevalier; and I think the king was quite right not to have made a disturbance against a poor fellow whose want of judgment is more to be complained of than his intention.”
+
+“Really,” said the chevalier, “as far as I am concerned, I confess that this magnanimity astonishes me to the highest degree.”
+
+“Why so?” inquired Philip.
+
+“Because I should have thought the king had been more jealous,” replied the chevalier, spitefully. During the last few minutes Monsieur had felt there was something of an irritating nature concealed under his favorite’s remarks; this last word, however, ignited the powder.
+
+“Jealous!” exclaimed the prince. “Jealous! what do you mean? Jealous of what, if you please -- or jealous of whom?”
+
+The chevalier perceived that he had allowed an excessively mischievous remark to escape him, as he was in the habit of doing. He endeavored, therefore, apparently to recall it while it was still possible to do so. “Jealous of his authority,” he said, with an assumed frankness; “of what else would you have the king jealous?”
+
+“Ah!” said the prince, “that’s very proper.”
+
+“Did your royal highness,” continued the chevalier, “solicit dear De Guiche’s pardon?”
+
+“No, indeed,” said Monsieur. “De Guiche is an excellent fellow, and full of courage; but as I do not approve of his conduct with Madame, I wish him neither harm nor good.”
+
+The chevalier had assumed a bitterness with regard to De Guiche, as he had attempted to do with regard to the king; but he thought he perceived that the time for indulgence, and even for the utmost indifference, had arrived, and that, in order to throw some light on the question, it might be necessary for him to put the lamp, as the saying is, beneath the husband’s very nose.
+
+“Very well, very well,” said the chevalier to himself, “I must wait for De Wardes; he will do more in one day than I in a month; for I verily believe he is even more envious than I. Then, again, it is not De Wardes I require so much as that some event or another should happen; and in the whole of this affair I see none. That De Guiche returned after he had been sent away is certainly serious enough, but all its seriousness disappears when I learn that De Guiche has returned at the very moment Madame troubles herself no longer about him. Madame, in fact, is occupied with the king, that is clear; but she will not be so much longer if, as it is asserted, the king has ceased to trouble his head about her. The moral of the whole matter is, to remain perfectly neutral, and await the arrival of some new caprice and let that decide the whole affair.” And the chevalier thereupon settled himself resignedly in the armchair in which Monsieur permitted him to seat himself in his presence, and, having no more spiteful or malicious remarks to make, the consequence was that De Lorraine’s wit seemed to have deserted him. Most fortunately Monsieur was in high good-humor, and he had enough for two, until the time arrived for dismissing his servants and gentlemen of the chamber, and he passed into his sleeping-apartment. As he withdrew, he desired the chevalier to present his compliments to Madame, and say that, as the night was cool, Monsieur, who was afraid of the toothache, would not venture out again into the park during the remainder of the evening. The chevalier entered the princess’s apartments at the very moment she came in herself. He acquitted himself faithfully of the commission intrusted to him, and, in the first place, remarked all the indifference and annoyance with which Madame received her husband’s communication -- a circumstance which appeared to him fraught with something fresh. If Madame had been about to leave her apartments with that strangeness of manner, he would have followed her; but she was returning to them; there was nothing to be done, therefore he turned upon his heel like an unemployed heron, appearing to question earth, air, and water about it; shook his head, and walked away mechanically in the direction of the gardens. He had hardly gone a hundred paces when he met two young men, walking arm in arm, with their heads bent down, and idly kicking the small stones out of their path as they walked on, plunged in thought. It was De Guiche and De Bragelonne, the sight of whom, as it always did, produced upon the chevalier, instinctively, a feeling of repugnance. He did not, however, the less, on that account, salute them with a very low bow, which they returned with interest. Then, observing that the park was nearly deserted, that the illuminations began to burn out, and that the morning breeze was setting in, he turned to the left, and entered the chateau again, by one of the smaller courtyards. The others turned aside to the right, and continued on their way towards the large park. As the chevalier was ascending the side staircase, which led to the private entrance, he saw a woman, followed by another, make her appearance under the arcade which led from the small to the large courtyard. The two women walked so fast that the rustling of their dresses could be distinguished through the silence of the night. The style of their mantles, their graceful figures, a mysterious yet haughty carriage which distinguished them both, especially the one who walked first, struck the chevalier.
+
+“I certainly know those two,” he said to himself, pausing upon the top step of the small staircase. Then, as with the instinct of a bloodhound he was about to follow them, one of the servants who had been running after him arrested his attention.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said, “the courier has arrived.”
+
+“Very well,” said the chevalier, “there is time enough; to-morrow will do.”
+
+“There are some urgent letters which you would be glad to see, perhaps.”
+
+“Where from?” inquired the chevalier.
+
+“One from England, and the other from Calais; the latter arrived by express, and seems of great importance.”
+
+“From Calais! Who the deuce can have to write to me from Calais?”
+
+“I think I recognize the handwriting of Monsieur le Comte de Wardes.”
+
+“Oh!” cried the chevalier, forgetting his intention of acting the spy, “in that case I will come up at once.” This he did, while the two unknown beings disappeared at the end of the court opposite to the one by which they had just entered. We shall now follow them, and leave the chevalier undisturbed to his correspondence. When they had arrived at the grove of trees, the foremost of the two halted, somewhat out of breath, and, cautiously raising her hood, said, “Are we still far from the tree?”
+
+“Yes, Madame, more than five hundred paces; but pray rest awhile, you will not be able to walk much longer at this rate.”
+
+“You are right,” said the princes, for it was she; and she leaned against a tree. “And now,” she resumed, after having recovered her breath, “tell me the whole truth, and conceal nothing from me.”
+
+“Oh, Madame,” cried the young girl, “you are already angry with me.”
+
+“No, my dear Athenais, reassure yourself, I am in no way angry with you. After all, these things do not concern me personally. You are anxious about what you may have said under the oak; you are afraid of having offended the king, and I wish to tranquillize you by ascertaining myself if it were possible you could have been overheard.”
+
+“Oh, yes, Madame, the king was close to us.”
+
+“Still, you were not speaking so loud that some of your remarks may not have been lost.”
+
+“We thought we were quite alone, Madame.”
+
+“There were three of you, you say?”
+
+“Yes; La Valliere, Montalais, and myself.”
+
+“And you, individually, spoke in a light manner of the king?”
+
+“I am afraid so. Should such be the case, will your highness have the kindness to make my peace with his majesty?”
+
+“If there should be any occasion for it, I promise you I will do so. However, as I have already told you, it will be better not to anticipate evil. The night is now very dark, and the darkness is still greater under the trees. It is not likely you were recognized by the king. To inform him of it, by being the first to speak, is to denounce yourself.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, Madame! if Mademoiselle de la Valliere were recognized, I must have been recognized also. Besides, M. de Saint-Aignan left no doubt on the subject.”
+
+“Did you, then, say anything very disrespectful of the king?”
+
+“Not at all; it was one of the others who made some very flattering speeches about the king; and my remarks must have been much in contrast with hers.”
+
+“Montalais is such a giddy girl,” said Madame.
+
+“It was not Montalais. Montalais said nothing; it was La Valliere.”
+
+Madame started as if she had not known it perfectly well already. “No, no,” she said, “the king cannot have heard. Besides, we will now try the experiment for which we came out. Show me the oak. Do you know where it is?” she continued.
+
+“Alas! Madame, yes.”
+
+“And you can find it again?”
+
+“With my eyes shut.”
+
+“Very well; sit down on the bank where you were, where La Valliere was, and speak in the same tone and to the same effect as you did before; I will conceal myself in the thicket, and if I can hear you, I will tell you so.”
+
+“Yes, Madame.”
+
+“If, therefore, you really spoke loud enough for the king to have heard you, in that case -- ”
+
+Athenais seemed to await the conclusion of the sentence with some anxiety.
+
+“In that case,” said Madame, in a suffocated voice, arising doubtless from her hurried progress, “in that case, I forbid you -- ” And Madame again increased her pace. Suddenly, however, she stopped. “An idea occurs to me,” she said.
+
+“A good idea, no doubt, Madame,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“Montalais must be as much embarrassed as La Valliere and yourself.”
+
+“Less so, for she is less compromised, having said less.”
+
+“That does not matter; she will help you, I dare say, by deviating a little from the exact truth.”
+
+“Especially if she knows that your highness is kind enough to interest yourself about me.”
+
+“Very well, I think I have discovered what it is best for you all to pretend.”
+
+“How delightful.”
+
+“You had better say that all three of you were perfectly well aware that the king was behind the tree, or behind the thicket, whichever it might have been; and that you knew M. de Saint-Aignan was there too.”
+
+“Yes, Madame.”
+
+“For you cannot disguise it from yourself, Athenais, Saint-Aignan takes advantage of some very flattering remarks you made about him.”
+
+“Well, Madame, you see very clearly that one can be overheard,” cried Athenais, “since M. de Saint-Aignan overheard us.”
+
+Madame bit her lips, for she had thoughtlessly committed herself. “Oh, you know Saint-Aignan’s character very well,” she said, “the favor the king shows him almost turns his brain, and he talks at random; not only so, he very often invents. That is not the question; the fact remains, did or did not the king overhear?”
+
+“Oh, yes, Madame, he certainly did,” said Athenais, in despair.
+
+“In that case, do what I said: maintain boldly that all three of you knew -- mind, all three of you, for if there is a doubt about any one of you, there will be a doubt about all, -- persist, I say, that you knew that the king and M. de Saint-Aignan were there, and that you wished to amuse yourself at the expense of those who were listening.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, at the king’s expense; we shall never dare say that!”
+
+“It is a simple jest; an innocent deception readily permitted in young girls whom men wish to take by surprise. In this manner everything explains itself. What Montalais said of Malicorne, a mere jest; what you said of M. de Saint-Aignan, a mere jest too; and what La Valliere might have said of -- ”
+
+“And which she would have given anything to recall.”
+
+“Are you sure of that?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Very well, an additional reason. Say the whole affair was a mere joke. M. de Malicorne will have no occasion to get out of temper; M. de Saint-Aignan will be completely put out of countenance; he will be laughed at instead of you; and lastly, the king will be punished for a curiosity unworthy of his rank. Let people laugh a little at the king in this affair, and I do not think he will complain of it.”
+
+“Oh, Madame, you are indeed an angel of goodness and sense!”
+
+“It is to my own advantage.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“How can you ask me why it is to my advantage to spare my maids of honor the remarks, annoyances, perhaps even calumnies, that might follow? Alas! you well know that the court has no indulgence for this sort of peccadillo. But we have now been walking for some time, shall we be long before we reach it?”
+
+“About fifty or sixty paces further; turn to the left, Madame, if you please.”
+
+“And you are sure of Montalais?” said Madame.
+
+“Oh, certainly.”
+
+“Will she do what you ask her?”
+
+“Everything. She will be delighted.”
+
+“And La Valliere -- ” ventured the princess.
+
+“Ah, there will be some difficulty with her, Madame; she would scorn to tell a falsehood.”
+
+“Yet, when it is in her interest to do so -- ”
+
+“I am afraid that that would not make the slightest difference in her ideas.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Madame. “I have been already told that; she is one of those overnice and affectedly particular people who place heaven in the foreground in order to conceal themselves behind it. But if she refuses to tell a falsehood, -- as she will expose herself to the jests of the whole court, as she will have annoyed the king by a confession as ridiculous as it was immodest, -- Mademoiselle la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere will think it but proper I should send her back again to her pigeons in the country, in order that, in Touraine yonder, or in Le Blaisois, -- I know not where it may be, -- she may at her ease study sentiment and pastoral life combined.”
+
+These words were uttered with a vehemence and harshness that terrified Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; and the consequence was, that, as far as she was concerned, she promised to tell as many falsehoods as might be necessary. It was in this frame of mind that Madame and her companion reached the precincts of the royal oak.
+
+“Here we are,” said Tonnay-Charente.
+
+“We shall soon learn if one can overhear,” replied Madame.
+
+“Hush!” whispered the young girl, holding Madame back with a hurried gesture, entirely forgetful of her companion’s rank. Madame stopped.
+
+“You see that you can hear,” said Athenais.
+
+“How?”
+
+“Listen.”
+
+Madame held her breath; and, in fact, the following words pronounced by a gentle and melancholy voice, floated towards them:
+
+“I tell you, vicomte, I tell you I love her madly; I tell you I love her to distraction.”
+
+Madame started at the voice; and, beneath her hood, a bright joyous smile illumined her features. It was she who now held back her companion, and with a light step leading her some twenty paces away, that is to say, out of the reach of the voice, she said, “Remain here, my dear Athenais, and let no one surprise us. I think it must be you they are conversing about.”
+
+“Me, Madame?”
+
+“Yes, you -- or rather your adventure. I will go and listen; if we were both there, we should be discovered. Or, stay! -- go and fetch Montalais, and then return and wait for me with her at the entrance of the forest.” And then, as Athenais hesitated, she again said “Go!” in a voice which did not admit of reply. Athenais thereupon arranged her dress so as to prevent its rustling being heard; and, by a path beyond the group of trees, she regained the flower-garden. As for Madame, she concealed herself in the thicket, leaning her back against a gigantic chestnut-tree, one of the branches of which had been cut in such a manner as to form a seat, and waited there, full of anxiety and apprehension. “Now,” she said, “since one can hear from this place, let us listen to what M. de Bragelonne and that other madly-in-love fool, the Comte de Guiche, have to say about me.”
+
+Chapter XLV. In Which Madame Acquires a Proof that Listeners Hear What Is Said.
+
+There was a moment’s silence, as if the mysterious sounds of night were hushed to listen, at the same time as Madame, to the youthful passionate disclosures of De Guiche.
+
+Raoul was about to speak. He leaned indolently against the trunk of the large oak, and replied in his sweet and musical voice, “Alas, my dear De Guiche, it is a great misfortune.”
+
+“Yes,” cried the latter, “great indeed.”
+
+“You do not understand me, De Guiche. I say that it is a great misfortune for you, not merely loving, but not knowing how to conceal your love.”
+
+“What do you mean?” said De Guiche.
+
+“Yes, you do not perceive one thing; namely, that it is no longer to the only friend you have, -- in other words, -- to a man who would rather die than betray you; you do not perceive, I say, that it is no longer to your only friend that you confide your passion, but to the first person that approaches you.”
+
+“Are you mad, Bragelonne,” exclaimed De Guiche, “to say such a thing to me?”
+
+“The fact stands thus, however.”
+
+“Impossible! How, in what manner can I have ever been indiscreet to such an extent?”
+
+“I mean, that your eyes, your looks, your sighs, proclaim, in spite of yourself, that exaggerated feeling which leads and hurries a man beyond his own control. In such a case he ceases to be master of himself; he is a prey to a mad passion, that makes him confide his grief to the trees, or to the air, from the very moment he has no longer any living being in reach of his voice. Besides, remember this: it very rarely happens that there is not always some one present to hear, especially the very things which ought not to be heard.” De Guiche uttered a deep sigh. “Nay,” continued Bragelonne, “you distress me; since your return here, you have a thousand times, and in a thousand different ways, confessed your love for her; and yet, had you not said one word, your return alone would have been a terrible indiscretion. I persist, then, in drawing this conclusion; that if you do not place a better watch over yourself than you have hitherto done, one day or other something will happen that will cause an explosion. Who will save you then? Answer me. Who will save her? for, innocent as she will be of your affection, your affection will be an accusation against her in the hands of her enemies.”
+
+“Alas!” murmured De Guiche; and a deep sigh accompanied the exclamation.
+
+“That is not answering me, De Guiche.”
+
+“Yes, yes.”
+
+“Well, what reply have you to make?”
+
+“This, that when the day arrives I shall be no more a living being than I feel myself now.”
+
+“I do not understand you.”
+
+“So many vicissitudes have worn me out. At present, I am no more a thinking, acting being; at present, the most worthless of men is better than I am; my remaining strength is exhausted, my latest-formed resolutions have vanished, and I abandon myself to my fate. When a man is out campaigning, as we have been together, and he sets off alone and unaccompanied for a skirmish, it sometimes happens that he may meet with a party of five or six foragers, and although alone, he defends himself; afterwards, five or six others arrive unexpectedly, his anger is aroused and he persists; but if six, eight, or ten others should still be met with, he either sets spurs to his horse, if he should still happen to retain one, or lets himself be slain to save an ignominious flight. Such, indeed, is my own case: first, I had to struggle against myself; afterwards, against Buckingham; now, since the king is in the field, I will not contend against the king, nor even, I wish you to understand, will the king retire; nor even against the nature of that woman. Still I do not deceive myself; having devoted myself to the service of such a love, I will lose my life in it.”
+
+“It is not the lady you ought to reproach,” replied Raoul; “it is yourself.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“You know the princess’s character, -- somewhat giddy, easily captivated by novelty, susceptible to flattery, whether it come from a blind person or a child, and yet you allow your passion for her to eat your very life away. Look at her, -- love her, if you will, -- for no one whose heart is not engaged elsewhere can see her without loving her. Yet, while you love her, respect, in the first place, her husband’s rank, then herself, and lastly, your own safety.”
+
+“Thanks, Raoul.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Because, seeing how much I suffer through this woman, you endeavor to console me, because you tell me all the good of her you think, and perhaps even that which you do not think.”
+
+“Oh,” said Raoul, “there you are wrong, comte; what I think I do not always say, but in that case I say nothing; but when I speak, I know not how to feign or to deceive; and whoever listens to me may believe me.”
+
+During this conversation, Madame, her head stretched forward with eager ear and dilated glance, endeavoring to penetrate the obscurity, thirstily drank in the faintest sound of their voices.
+
+“Oh, I know her better than you do, then!” exclaimed Guiche. “She is not merely giddy, but frivolous; she is not only attracted by novelty, she is utterly oblivious, and is without faith; she is not simply susceptible to flattery, she is a practiced and cruel coquette. A thorough coquette! yes, yes, I am sure of it. Believe me, Bragelonne, I am suffering all the torments of hell; brave, passionately fond of danger, I meet a danger greater than my strength and my courage. But, believe me, Raoul, I reserve for myself a victory which shall cost her floods of tears.”
+
+“A victory,” he asked, “and of what kind?”
+
+“Of what kind, you ask?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“One day I will accost her, and will address her thus: ‘I was young -- madly in love, I possessed, however, sufficient respect to throw myself at your feet, and to prostrate myself in the dust, if your looks had not raised me to your hand. I fancied I understood your looks, I rose, and then, without having done anything more towards you than love you yet more devotedly, if that were possible -- you, a woman without heart, faith, or love, in very wantonness, dashed me down again from sheer caprice. You are unworthy, princess of the royal blood though you may be, of the love of a man of honor; I offer my life as a sacrifice for having loved you too tenderly, and I die despairing you.’”
+
+“Oh!” cried Raoul, terrified at the accents of profound truth which De Guiche’s words betrayed, “I was right in saying you were mad, Guiche.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” exclaimed De Guiche, following out his own idea; “since there are no wars here now, I will flee yonder to the north, seek service in the Empire, where some Hungarian, or Croat, or Turk, will perhaps kindly put me out of my misery.” De Guiche did not finish, or rather as he finished, a sound made him start, and at the same moment caused Raoul to leap to his feet. As for De Guiche, buried in his own thoughts, he remained seated, with his head tightly pressed between his hands. The branches of the tree were pushed aside, and a woman, pale and much agitated, appeared before the two young men. With one hand she held back the branches, which would have struck her face, and, with the other, she raised the hood of the mantle which covered her shoulders. By her clear and lustrous glance, by her lofty carriage, by her haughty attitude, and, more than all that, by the throbbing of his own heart, De Guiche recognized Madame, and, uttering a loud cry, he removed his hands from his temple, and covered his eyes with them. Raoul, trembling and out of countenance, merely muttered a few words of respect.
+
+“Monsieur de Bragelonne,” said the princess, “have the goodness, I beg, to see if my attendants are not somewhere yonder, either in the walks or in the groves; and you, M. de Guiche, remain here: I am tired, and you will perhaps give me your arm.”
+
+Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of the unhappy young man, he would have been less terrified than by her cold and severe tone. However, as he himself had just said, he was brave; and as in the depths of his own heart he had just decisively made up his mind, De Guiche arose, and, observing Bragelonne’s hesitation, he turned towards him a glance full of resignation and grateful acknowledgement. Instead of immediately answering Madame, he even advanced a step towards the vicomte, and holding out the arm which the princess had just desired him to give her, he pressed his friend’s hand in his own, with a sigh, in which he seemed to give to friendship all the life that was left in the depths of his heart. Madame, who in her pride had never known what it was to wait, now waited until this mute colloquy was at an end. Her royal hand remained suspended in the air, and, when Raoul had left, it sank without anger, but not without emotion, in that of De Guiche. They were alone in the depths of the dark and silent forest, and nothing could be heard but Raoul’s hastily retreating footsteps along the obscure paths. Over their heads was extended the thick and fragrant vault of branches, through the occasional openings of which the stars could be seen glittering in their beauty. Madame softly drew De Guiche about a hundred paces away from that indiscreet tree which had heard, and had allowed so many things to be heard, during the evening, and, leading him to a neighboring glade, so that they could see a certain distance around them, she said in a trembling voice, “I have brought you here, because yonder where you were, everything can be overheard.”
+
+“Everything can be overheard, did you say, Madame?” replied the young man, mechanically.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Which means -- ” murmured De Guiche.
+
+“Which means that I have heard every syllable you have said.”
+
+“Oh, Heaven! this only was wanting to destroy me,” stammered De Guiche; and he bent down his head, like an exhausted swimmer beneath the wave which engulfs him.
+
+“And so,” she said, “you judge me as you have said?” De Guiche grew pale, turned his head aside, and was silent. He felt almost on the point of fainting.
+
+“I do not complain,” continued the princess, in a tone of voice full of gentleness; “I prefer a frankness that wounds me, to flattery, which would deceive me. And so, according to your opinion, M. de Guiche, I am a coquette, an a worthless creature.”
+
+“Worthless,” cried the young man; “you worthless! Oh, no; most certainly I did not say, I could not have said, that that which was the most precious object in life for me could be worthless. No, no; I did not say that.”
+
+“A woman who sees a man perish, consumed by the fire she has kindled, and who does not allay that fire, is, in my opinion, a worthless woman.”
+
+“What can it matter to you what I said?” returned the comte. “What am I compared to you, and why should you even trouble yourself to know whether I exist or not?”
+
+“Monsieur de Guiche, both you and I are human beings, and, knowing you as I do, I do not wish you to risk your life; with you I will change my conduct and character. I will be, not frank, for I am always so, but truthful. I implore you, therefore, to love me no more, and to forget utterly that I have ever addressed a word or a glance towards you.”
+
+De Guiche turned around, bending a look full of passionate devotion upon her. “You,” he said; “you excuse yourself; you implore me?”
+
+“Certainly; since I have done evil, I ought to repair the evil I have done. And so, comte, this is what we will agree to. You will forgive my frivolity and my coquetry. Nay, do not interrupt me. I will forgive you for having said I was frivolous and a coquette, or something worse, perhaps; and you will renounce your idea of dying, and will preserve for your family, for the king, and for our sex, a cavalier whom every one esteems, and whom many hold dear.” Madame pronounced this last word in such an accent of frankness, and even of tenderness, that poor De Guiche’s heart felt almost bursting.
+
+“Oh! Madame, Madame!” he stammered out.
+
+“Nay, listen further,” she continued. “When you shall have renounced all thought of me forever, from necessity in the first place, and, next, because you will yield to my entreaty, then you will judge me more favorably, and I am convinced you will replace this love -- forgive the frivolity of the expression -- by a sincere friendship, which you will be ready to offer me, and which, I promise you, shall be cordially accepted.”
+
+De Guiche, his forehead bedewed with perspiration, a feeling of death in his heart, and a trembling agitation through his whole frame, bit his lip, stamped his foot on the ground, and, in a word, devoured the bitterness of his grief. “Madame,” he said, “what you offer is impossible, and I cannot accept such conditions.”
+
+“What!” said Madame, “do you refuse my friendship, then?”
+
+“No, no! I do not need your friendship, Madame. I prefer to die from love, than to live for friendship.”
+
+“Comte!”
+
+“Oh! Madame,” cried De Guiche, “the present is a moment for me, in which no other consideration and no other respect exist, than the consideration and respect of a man of honor towards the woman he worships. Drive me away, curse me, denounce me, you will be perfectly right. I have uttered complaints against you, but their bitterness has been owing to my passion for you; I have said I wish to die, and die I will. If I lived, you would forget me; but dead, you would never forget me, I am sure.”
+
+Henrietta, who was standing buried in thought, and nearly as agitated as De Guiche himself, turned aside her head as but a minute before he had turned aside his. Then, after a moment’s pause, she said, “And you love me, then, very much?”
+
+“Madly; madly enough to die from it, whether you drive me from you, or whether you listen to me still.”
+
+“It is a hopeless case,” she said, in a playful manner; “a case which must be treated with soothing application. Give me your hand. It is as cold as ice.” De Guiche knelt down, and pressed to his lips, not one, but both of Madame’s hands.
+
+“Love me, then,” said the princess, “since it cannot be otherwise.” And almost imperceptibly she pressed his fingers, raising him thus, partly in the manner of a queen, and partly as a fond and affectionate woman would have done. De Guiche trembled from head to foot, and Madame, who felt how passion coursed through every fiber of his being, knew that he indeed loved truly. “Give me your arm, comte,” she said, “and let us return.”
+
+“Ah! Madame,” said the comte, trembling and bewildered; “you have discovered a third way of killing me.”
+
+“But, happily, it is the slowest way, is it not?” she replied, as she led him towards the grove of trees they had so lately quitted.
+
+Chapter XLVI. Aramis’s Correspondence.
+
+When De Guiche’s affairs, which had been suddenly set to right without his having been able to guess the cause of their improvement, assumed the unexpected aspect we have seen, Raoul, in obedience to the request of the princess, had withdrawn in order not to interrupt an explanation, the results of which he was far from guessing; and he soon after joined the ladies of honor who were walking about in the flower-gardens. During this time, the Chevalier de Lorraine, who had returned to his own room, read De Wardes’s latter with surprise, for it informed him by the hand of his valet, of the sword-thrust received at Calais, and of all the details of the adventure, and invited him to inform De Guiche and Monsieur, whatever there might be in the affair likely to be most disagreeable to both of them. De Wardes particularly endeavored to prove to the chevalier the violence of Madame’s affection for Buckingham, and he finished his letter by declaring that he thought this feeling was returned. The chevalier shrugged his shoulders at the last paragraph, and, in fact, De Wardes was out of date, as we have seen. De Wardes was still only at Buckingham’s affair. The chevalier threw the letter over his shoulder upon an adjoining table, and said in a disdainful tone, “It is really incredible; and yet poor De Wardes is not deficient in ability; but the truth is, it is not very apparent, so easy is it to grow rusty in the country. The deuce take the simpleton, who ought to have written to me about matters of importance, and yet he writes such silly stuff as that. If it had not been for that miserable letter, which has no meaning at all in it, I should have detected in the grove yonder a charming little intrigue, which would have compromised a woman, would have perhaps have been as good as a sword-thrust for a man, and have diverted Monsieur for many days to come.”
+
+He looked at his watch. “It is now too late,” he said. “One o’clock in the morning; every one must have returned to the king’s apartments, where the night is to be finished; well, the scent is lost, and unless some extraordinary chance -- ” And thus saying, as if to appeal to his good star, the chevalier, greatly out of temper, approached the window, which looked out upon a somewhat solitary part of the garden. Immediately, and as if some evil genius was at his orders, he perceived returning towards the chateau, accompanied by a man, a silk mantle of a dark color, and recognized the figure which had struck his attention half an hour previously.
+
+“Admirable!” he thought, striking his hands together, “this is my providential mysterious affair.” And he started out precipitately, along the staircase, hoping to reach the courtyard in time to recognize the woman in the mantle, and her companion. But as he arrived at the door of the little court, he nearly knocked against Madame, whose radiant face seemed full of charming revelations beneath the mantle which protected without concealing her. Unfortunately, Madame was alone. The chevalier knew that since he had seen her, not five minutes before, with a gentleman, the gentleman in question could not be far off. Consequently, he hardly took time to salute the princess as he drew up to allow her to pass; then when she had advanced a few steps, with the rapidity of a woman who fears recognition, and when the chevalier perceived that she was too much occupied with her own thoughts to trouble herself about him, he darted into the garden, looked hastily round on every side, and embraced within his glance as much of the horizon as he possibly could. He was just in time; the gentleman who had accompanied Madame was still in sight; only he was hurrying towards one of the wings of the chateau, behind which he was on the point of disappearing. There was not an instant to lose; the chevalier darted in pursuit of him, prepared to slacken his pace as he approached the unknown; but in spite of the diligence he used, the unknown had disappeared behind the flight of steps before he approached.
+
+It was evident, however, that as the man pursued was walking quietly, in a pensive manner, with his head bent down, either beneath the weight of grief or happiness, when once the angle was passed, unless, indeed, he were to enter by some door or another, the chevalier could not fail to overtake him. And this, certainly, would have happened, if, at the very moment he turned the angle, the chevalier had not run against two persons, who were themselves wheeling in the opposite direction. The chevalier was ready to seek a quarrel with these two troublesome intruders, when, looking up, he recognized the superintendent. Fouquet was accompanied by a person whom the chevalier now saw for the first time. This stranger was the bishop of Vannes. Checked by the important character of the individual, and obliged out of politeness to make his own excuses when he expected to receive them, the chevalier stepped back a few paces; and as Monsieur Fouquet possessed, if not the friendship, at least the respect of every one; as the king himself, although he was rather his enemy than his friend, treated M. Fouquet as a man of great consideration, the chevalier did what the king himself would have done, namely, he bowed to M. Fouquet, who returned his salutation with kindly politeness, perceiving that the gentleman had run against him by mistake and without any intention of being rude. Then, almost immediately afterwards, having recognized the Chevalier de Lorraine, he made a few civil remarks, to which the chevalier was obliged to reply. Brief as the conversation was, De Lorraine saw, with the most unfeigned displeasure, the figure of his unknown becoming dimmer in the distance, and fast disappearing in the darkness. The chevalier resigned himself, and, once resigned, gave his entire attention to Fouquet: -- “You arrive late, monsieur,” he said. “Your absence has occasioned great surprise, and I heard Monsieur express himself as much astonished that, having been invited by the king, you had not come.”
+
+“It was impossible for me to do so; but I came as soon as I was free.”
+
+“Is Paris quiet?”
+
+“Perfectly so. Paris has received the last tax very well.”
+
+“Ah! I understand you wished to assure yourself of this good feeling before you came to participate in our fetes.”
+
+“I have arrived, however, somewhat late to enjoy them. I will ask you, therefore, to inform me if the king is in the chateau or not, if I am likely to be able to see him this evening, or if I shall have to wait until to-morrow.”
+
+“We have lost sight of his majesty during the last half-hour nearly,” said the chevalier.
+
+“Perhaps he is in Madame’s apartments?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“Not in Madame’s apartments, I should think, for I just now met Madame as she was entering by the small staircase; and unless the gentleman whom you a moment ago encountered was the king himself -- ” and the chevalier paused, hoping that, in this manner, he might learn who it was he had been hurrying after. But Fouquet, whether he had or had not recognized De Guiche, simply replied, “No, monsieur, it was not the king.”
+
+The chevalier, disappointed in his expectation, saluted them; but as he did so, casting a parting glance around him, and perceiving M. Colbert in the center of a group, he said to the superintendent: “Stay, monsieur; there is some one under the trees yonder, who will be able to inform you better than myself.”
+
+“Who?” asked Fouquet, whose near-sightedness prevented him from seeing through the darkness.
+
+“M. Colbert,” returned the chevalier.
+
+“Indeed! That person, then, who is speaking yonder to those men with torches in their hands, is M. Colbert?”
+
+“M. Colbert himself. He is giving orders personally to the workmen who are arranging the lamps for the illuminations.”
+
+“Thank you,” said Fouquet, with an inclination of the head, which indicated that he had obtained all the information he wished. The chevalier, on his side, having, on the contrary, learned nothing at all, withdrew with a profound salutation.
+
+He had scarcely left when Fouquet, knitting his brows, fell into a deep reverie. Aramis looked at him for a moment with a mingled feeling of compassion and silence.
+
+“What!” he said to him, “the fellow’s name alone seemed to affect you. Is it possible that, full of triumph and delight as you were just now, the sight merely of that man is capable of dispiriting you? Tell me, have you faith in your good star?”
+
+“No,” replied Fouquet, dejectedly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because I am too full of happiness at this present moment,” he replied, in a trembling voice. “You, my dear D’Herblay, who are so learned, will remember the history of a certain tyrant of Samos. What can I throw into the sea to avert approaching evil? Yes! I repeat it once more, I am too full of happiness! so happy that I wish for nothing beyond what I have... I have risen so high... You know my motto: ‘Quo non ascendam?’ I have risen so high that nothing is left me but to descend from my elevation. I cannot believe in the progress of a success already more than human.”
+
+Aramis smiled as he fixed his kind and penetrating glance upon him. “If I were aware of the cause of your happiness,” he said, “I should probably fear for your grace; but you regard me in the light of a true friend; I mean, you turn to me in misfortune, nothing more. Even that is an immense and precious boon, I know; but the truth is, I have a just right to beg you to confide in me, from time to time, any fortunate circumstances that befall you, in which I should rejoice, you know, more than if they had befallen myself.”
+
+“My dear prelate,” said Fouquet, laughing, “my secrets are of too profane a character to confide them to a bishop, however great a worldling he may be.”
+
+“Bah! in confession.”
+
+“Oh! I should blush too much if you were my confessor.” And Fouquet began to sigh. Aramis again looked at him without further betrayal of his thoughts than a placid smile.
+
+“Well,” he said, “discretion is a great virtue.”
+
+“Silence,” said Fouquet; “yonder venomous reptile has recognized us, and is crawling this way.”
+
+“Colbert?”
+
+“Yes; leave me, D’Herblay; I do not wish that fellow to see you with me, or he will take an aversion to you.”
+
+Aramis pressed his hand, saying, “What need have I of his friendship, while you are here?”
+
+“Yes, but I may not always be here,” replied Fouquet, dejectedly.
+
+“On that day, then, if that day should ever dawn,” said Aramis, tranquilly, “we will think over a means of dispensing with the friendship, or of braving the dislike of M. Colbert. But tell me, my dear Fouquet, instead of conversing with this reptile, as you did him the honor of styling him, a conversation the need for which I do not perceive, why do you not pay a visit, if not to the king, at least to Madame?”
+
+“To Madame,” said the superintendent, his mind occupied by his souvenirs. “Yes, certainly, to Madame.”
+
+“You remember,” continued Aramis, “that we have been told that Madame stands high in favor during the last two or three days. It enters into your policy, and forms part of our plans, that you should assiduously devote yourself to his majesty’s friends. It is a means of counteracting the growing influence of M. Colbert. Present yourself, therefore, as soon as possible to Madame, and, for our sakes, treat this ally with consideration.”
+
+“But,” said Fouquet, “are you quite sure that it is upon her that the king has his eyes fixed at the present moment?”
+
+“If the needle has turned, it must be since the morning. You know I have my police.”
+
+“Very well! I will go there at once, and, at all events, I shall have a means of introduction in the shape of a magnificent pair of antique cameos set with diamonds.”
+
+“I have seen them, and nothing could be more costly and regal.”
+
+At this moment they were interrupted by a servant followed by a courier. “For you, monseigneur,” said the courier aloud, presenting a letter to Fouquet.
+
+“For your grace,” said the lackey in a low tone, handing Aramis a letter. And as the lackey carried a torch in his hand, he placed himself between the superintendent and the bishop of Vannes, so that both of them could read at the same time. As Fouquet looked at the fine and delicate writing on the envelope, he started with delight. Those who love, or who are beloved, will understand his anxiety in the first place, and his happiness in the next. He hastily tore open the letter, which, however, contained only these words: “It is but an hour since I quitted you, it is an age since I told you how much I love you.” And that was all. Madame de Belliere had, in fact, left Fouquet about an hour previously, after having passed two days with him; and apprehensive lest his remembrance of her might be effaced for too long a period from the heart she regretted, she dispatched a courier to him as the bearer of this important communication. Fouquet kissed the letter, and rewarded the bearer with a handful of gold. As for Aramis, he, on his side, was engaged in reading, but with more coolness and reflection, the following letter:
+
+“The king has this evening been struck with a strange fancy; a woman loves him. He learned it accidentally, as he was listening to the conversation of this young girl with her companions; and his majesty has entirely abandoned himself to his new caprice. The girl’s name is Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and she is sufficiently pretty to warrant this caprice becoming a strong attachment. Beware of Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+There was not a word about Madame. Aramis slowly folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Fouquet was still delightedly inhaling the perfume of his epistle.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said Aramis, touching Fouquet’s arm.
+
+“Yes, what is it?” he asked.
+
+“An idea has just occurred to me. Are you acquainted with a young girl of the name of La Valliere?
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“Reflect a little.”
+
+“Ah! yes, I believe so; one of Madame’s maids of honor.”
+
+“That must be the one.”
+
+“Well, what then?”
+
+“Well, monseigneur, it is to that young girl that you must pay your visit this evening.”
+
+“Bah! why so?”
+
+“Nay, more than that, it is to her you must present your cameos.”
+
+“Nonsense.”
+
+“You know, monseigneur, that my advice is not to be regarded lightly.”
+
+“But this is unforeseen -- ”
+
+“That is my affair. Pay your court in due form, and without loss of time, to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. I will be your guarantee with Madame de Belliere that your devotion is altogether politic.”
+
+“What do you mean, my dear D’Herblay, and whose name have you just pronounced?”
+
+“A name which ought to convince you that, as I am so well informed about yourself, I may possibly be just as well informed about others. Pay your court, therefore, to La Valliere.”
+
+“I will pay my court to whomsoever you like,” replied Fouquet, his heart filled with happiness.
+
+“Come, come, descend again to the earth, traveler in the seventh heaven,” said Aramis; “M. Colbert is approaching. He has been recruiting while we were reading; see, how he is surrounded, praised, congratulated; he is decidedly becoming powerful.” In fact, Colbert was advancing, escorted by all the courtiers who remained in the gardens, every one of whom complimented him upon the arrangements of the fete: all of which so puffed him up that he could hardly contain himself.
+
+“If La Fontaine were here,” said Fouquet, smiling, “what an admirable opportunity for him to recite his fable of ‘The Frog that wanted to make itself as big as the Ox.’”
+
+Colbert arrived in the center of the circle blazing with light; Fouquet awaited his approach, unmoved and with a slightly mocking smile. Colbert smiled too; he had been observing his enemy during the last quarter of an hour, and had been approaching him gradually. Colbert’s smile was a presage of hostility.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, in a low tone of voice to the superintendent; “the scoundrel is going to ask you again for more millions to pay for his fireworks and his colored lamps.” Colbert was the first to salute them, and with an air which he endeavored to render respectful. Fouquet hardly moved his head.
+
+“Well, monseigneur, what do your eyes say? Have we shown our good taste?”
+
+“Perfect taste,” replied Fouquet, without permitting the slightest tone of raillery to be remarked in his words.
+
+“Oh!” said Colbert, maliciously, “you are treating us with indulgence. We are poor, we servants of the king, and Fontainebleau is no way to be compared as a residence with Vaux.”
+
+“Quite true,” replied Fouquet coolly.
+
+“But what can we do, monseigneur?” continued Colbert, “we have done our best on slender resources.”
+
+Fouquet made a gesture of assent.
+
+“But,” pursued Colbert, “it would be only a proper display of your magnificence, monseigneur, if you were to offer to his majesty a fete in your wonderful gardens -- in those gardens which have cost you sixty millions of francs.”
+
+“Seventy-two,” said Fouquet.
+
+“An additional reason,” returned Colbert; “it would, indeed, be truly magnificent.”
+
+“But do you suppose, monsieur, that his majesty would deign to accept my invitation?”
+
+“I have no doubt whatever of it,” cried Colbert, hastily; “I will guarantee that he does.”
+
+“You are exceedingly kind,” said Fouquet. “I may depend on it, then?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur; yes, certainly.”
+
+“Then I will consider the matter,” yawned Fouquet.
+
+“Accept, accept,” whispered Aramis, eagerly.
+
+“You will consider?” repeated Colbert.
+
+“Yes,” replied Fouquet; “in order to know what day I shall submit my invitation to the king.”
+
+“This very evening, monseigneur, this very evening.”
+
+“Agreed,” said the superintendent. “Gentlemen, I should wish to issue my invitations; but you know that wherever the king goes, the king is in his own palace; it is by his majesty, therefore, that you must be invited.” A murmur of delight immediately arose. Fouquet bowed and left.
+
+“Proud and dauntless man,” thought Colbert, “you accept, and yet you know it will cost you ten millions.”
+
+“You have ruined me,” whispered Fouquet, in a low tone, to Aramis.
+
+“I have saved you,” replied the latter, whilst Fouquet ascended the flight of steps and inquired whether the king was still visible.
+
+Chapter XLVII. The Orderly Clerk.
+
+The king, anxious to be again quite alone, in order to reflect well upon what was passing in his heart, had withdrawn to his own apartments, where M. de Saint-Aignan had, after his conversation with Madame, gone to meet him. This conversation has already been related. The favorite, vain of his twofold importance, and feeling that he had become, during the last two hours, the confidant of the king, began to treat the affairs of the court in a somewhat indifferent manner: and, from the position in which he had placed himself, or rather, where chance had placed him, he saw nothing but love and garlands of flowers around him. The king’s love for Madame, that of Madame for the king, that of Guiche for Madame, that of La Valliere for the king, that of Malicorne for Montalais, that of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente for himself, was not all this, truly, more than enough to turn the head of any courtier? Besides, Saint-Aignan was the model of courtiers, past, present, and to come; and, moreover, showed himself such an excellent narrator, and so discerningly appreciative that the king listened to him with an appearance of great interest, particularly when he described the excited manner with which Madame had sought for him to converse about the affair of Mademoiselle de la Valliere. While the king no longer experienced for Madame any remains of the passion he had once felt for her, there was, in this same eagerness of Madame to procure information about him, great gratification for his vanity, from which he could not free himself. He experienced this pleasure then, but nothing more, and his heart was not, for a single moment, alarmed at what Madame might, or might not, think of his adventure. When, however, Saint-Aignan had finished, the king, while preparing to retire to rest, asked, “Now, Saint-Aignan, you know what Mademoiselle de la Valliere is, do you not?”
+
+“Not only what she is, but what she will be.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that she is everything that woman can wish to be -- that is to say, beloved by your majesty; I mean, that she will be everything your majesty may wish her to be.”
+
+“That is not what I am asking. I do not wish to know what she is to-day, or what she will be to-morrow; as you have remarked, that is my affair. But tell me what others say of her.”
+
+“They say she is well conducted.”
+
+“Oh!” said the king, smiling, “that is mere report.”
+
+“But rare enough, at court, sire, to believe when it is spread.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right. Is she well born?”
+
+“Excellently; the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, and step-daughter of that good M. de Saint-Remy.”
+
+“Ah, yes! my aunt’s major-domo; I remember; and I remember now that I saw her as I passed through Blois. She was presented to the queens. I have even to reproach myself that I did not on that occasion pay her the attention she deserved.”
+
+“Oh, sire! I trust that your majesty will now repair time lost.”
+
+“And the report -- you tell me -- is, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere never had a lover.”
+
+“In any case, I do not think your majesty would be much alarmed at the rivalry.”
+
+“Yet, stay,” said the king, in a very serious tone of voice.
+
+“Your majesty?”
+
+“I remember.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“If she has no lover, she has, at least, a betrothed.”
+
+“A betrothed!”
+
+“What! Count, do you not know that?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You, the man who knows all the news?”
+
+“Your majesty will excuse me. You know this betrothed, then?”
+
+“Assuredly! his father came to ask me to sign the marriage contract: it is -- ” The king was about to pronounce the Vicomte de Bragelonne’s name, when he stopped, and knitted his brows.
+
+“It is -- ” repeated Saint-Aignan, inquiringly.
+
+“I don’t remember now,” replied Louis XIV., endeavoring to conceal an annoyance he had some trouble to disguise.
+
+“Can I put your majesty in the way?” inquired the Comte de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“No; for I no longer remember to whom I intended to refer; indeed, I only remember very indistinctly, that one of the maids of honor was to marry -- the name, however, has escaped me.”
+
+“Was it Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente he was going to marry?” inquired Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Very likely,” said the king.
+
+“In that case, the intended was M. de Montespan; but Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did not speak of it, it seemed to me, in such a manner as would frighten suitors away.”
+
+“At all events,” said the king, “I know nothing, or almost nothing, about Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Saint-Aignan, I rely upon you to procure me every information about her.”
+
+“Yes, sire, and when shall I have the honor of seeing your majesty again, to give you the latest news?”
+
+“Whenever you have procured it.”
+
+“I shall obtain it speedily, then, if the information can be as quickly obtained as my wish to see your majesty again.”
+
+“Well said, count! By the by, has Madame displayed any ill-feeling against this poor girl?”
+
+“None, sire.”
+
+“Madame did not get angry, then?”
+
+“I do not know; I only know that she laughed continually.”
+
+“That’s well; but I think I hear voices in the ante-rooms -- no doubt a courier has just arrived. Inquire, Saint-Aignan.” The count ran to the door and exchanged a few words with the usher; he returned to the king, saying, “Sire, it is M. Fouquet who has this moment arrived, by your majesty’s orders, he says. He presented himself, but, because of the lateness of the hour, he does not press for an audience this evening, and is satisfied to have his presence here formally announced.”
+
+“M. Fouquet! I wrote to him at three o’clock, inviting him to be at Fontainebleau the following day, and he arrives at Fontainebleau at two o’clock in the morning! This is, indeed, zeal!” exclaimed the king, delighted to see himself so promptly obeyed. “On the contrary, M. Fouquet shall have his audience. I summoned him, and will receive him. Let him be introduced. As for you, count, pursue your inquiries, and be here to-morrow.”
+
+The king placed his finger on his lips; and Saint-Aignan, his heart brimful of happiness, hastily withdrew, telling the usher to introduce M. Fouquet, who, thereupon, entered the king’s apartment. Louis rose to receive him.
+
+“Good evening, M. Fouquet,” he said, smiling graciously; “I congratulate you on your punctuality; and yet my message must have reached you late?”
+
+“At nine in the evening, sire.”
+
+“You have been working very hard lately, M. Fouquet, for I have been informed that you have not left your rooms at Saint-Mande during the last three or four days.”
+
+“It is perfectly true, your majesty, that I have kept myself shut up for the past three days,” replied Fouquet.
+
+“Do you know, M. Fouquet, that I had a great many things to say to you?” continued the king, with a most gracious air.
+
+“Your majesty overwhelms me, and since you are so graciously disposed towards me, will you permit me to remind you of the promise made to grant an audience?”
+
+“Ah, yes! some church dignitary, who thinks he has to thank me for something, is it not?”
+
+“Precisely so, sire. The hour is, perhaps, badly chosen; but the time of the companion whom I have brought with me is valuable, and as Fontainebleau is on the way to his diocese -- ”
+
+“Who is it, then?”
+
+“The bishop of Vannes, whose appointment your majesty, at my recommendation, deigned, three months since, to sign.”
+
+“That is very possible,” said the king, who had signed without reading; “and he is here?”
+
+“Yes, sire; Vannes is an important diocese; the flock belonging to this pastor needed his religious consolation; they are savages, whom it is necessary to polish, at the same time that he instructs them, and M. d’Herblay is unequalled in such kind of missions.”
+
+“M. d’Herblay!” said the king, musingly, as if his name, heard long since, was not, however, unknown to him.
+
+“Oh!” said Fouquet, promptly, “your majesty is not acquainted with the obscure name of one of your most faithful and valuable servants?”
+
+“No, I confess I am not. And so he wishes to set off again?”
+
+“He has this very day received letters which will, perhaps, compel him to leave, so that, before setting off for that unknown region called Bretagne, he is desirous of paying his respects to your majesty.”
+
+“Is he waiting?”
+
+“He is here, sire.”
+
+“Let him enter.”
+
+Fouquet made a sign to the usher in attendance, who was waiting behind the tapestry. The door opened, and Aramis entered. The king allowed him to finish the compliments which he addressed to him, and fixed a long look upon a countenance which no one could forget, after having once beheld it.
+
+“Vannes!” he said: “you are bishop of Vannes, I believe?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“Vannes is in Bretagne, I think?” Aramis bowed.
+
+“Near the coast?” Aramis again bowed.
+
+“A few leagues from Bell-Isle, is it not?”
+
+“Yes, sire,” replied Aramis; “six leagues, I believe.”
+
+“Six leagues; a mere step, then,” said Louis XIV.
+
+“Not for us poor Bretons, sire,” replied Aramis: “six leagues, on the contrary, is a great distance, if it be six leagues on land; and an immense distance, if it be leagues on the sea. Besides, I have the honor to mention to your majesty that there are six leagues of sea from the river to Belle-Isle.”
+
+“It is said that M. Fouquet has a very beautiful house there?” inquired the king.
+
+“Yes, it is said so,” replied Aramis, looking quietly at Fouquet.
+
+“What do you mean by ‘it is said so?’” exclaimed the king.
+
+“He has, sire.”
+
+“Really, M. Fouquet, I must confess that one circumstance surprises me.”
+
+“What may that be, sire?”
+
+“That you should have at the head of the diocese a man like M. d’Herblay, and yet should not have shown him Belle-Isle.”
+
+“Oh, sire,” replied the bishop, without giving Fouquet time to answer, “we poor Breton prelates seldom leave our residences.”
+
+“M. de Vannes,” said the king, “I will punish M. Fouquet for his indifference.”
+
+“In what way, sire?”
+
+“I will change your bishopric.”
+
+Fouquet bit his lips, but Aramis only smiled.
+
+“What income does Vannes bring you in?” continued the king.
+
+“Sixty thousand livres, sire,” said Aramis.
+
+“So trifling an amount as that; but you possess other property, Monsieur de Vannes?”
+
+“I have nothing else, sire; only M. Fouquet pays me one thousand two hundred livres a year for his pew in the church.”
+
+“Well, M. d’Herblay, I promise you something better than that.”
+
+“Sire -- ”
+
+“I will not forget you.”
+
+Aramis bowed, and the king also bowed to him in a respectful manner, as he was accustomed to do towards women and members of the Church. Aramis gathered that his audience was at an end; he took his leave of the king in the simple, unpretending language of a country pastor, and disappeared.
+
+“He is, indeed, a remarkable face,” said the king, following him with his eyes as long as he could see him, and even to a certain degree when he was no longer to be seen.
+
+“Sire,” replied Fouquet, “if that bishop had been educated early in life, no prelate in the kingdom would deserve the highest distinctions better than he.”
+
+“His learning is not extensive, then?”
+
+“He changed the sword for the crucifix, and that rather late in life. But it matters little, if your majesty will permit me to speak of M. de Vannes again on another occasion -- ”
+
+“I beg you to do so. But before speaking of him, let us speak of yourself, M. Fouquet.”
+
+“Of me, sire?”
+
+“Yes, I have to pay you a thousand compliments.”
+
+“I cannot express to your majesty the delight with which you overwhelm me.”
+
+“I understand you, M. Fouquet. I confess, however, to have had certain prejudices against you.”
+
+“In that case, I was indeed unhappy, sire.”
+
+“But they exist no longer. Did you not perceive -- ”
+
+“I did, indeed, sire; but I awaited with resignation the day when the truth would prevail; and it seems that that day has now arrived.”
+
+“Ah! you knew, then, you were in disgrace with me?”
+
+“Alas! sire, I perceived it.”
+
+“And do you know the reason?”
+
+“Perfectly well; your majesty thought that I had been wastefully lavish in expenditure.”
+
+“Not so; far from that.”
+
+“Or, rather an indifferent administrator. In a word, you thought that, as the people had no money, there would be none for your majesty either.”
+
+“Yes, I thought so; but I was deceived.”
+
+Fouquet bowed.
+
+“And no disturbances, no complaints?”
+
+“And money enough,” said Fouquet.
+
+“The fact is that you have been profuse with it during the last month.”
+
+“I have more, not only for all your majesty’s requirements, but for all your caprices.”
+
+“I thank you, Monsieur Fouquet,” replied the king, seriously. “I will not put you to the proof. For the next two months I do not intend to ask you for anything.”
+
+“I will avail myself of the interval to amass five or six millions, which will be serviceable as money in hand in case of war.”
+
+“Five or six millions!”
+
+“For the expenses of your majesty’s household only, be it understood.”
+
+“You think war probable, M. Fouquet?”
+
+“I think that if Heaven has bestowed on the eagle a beak and claws, it is to enable him to show his royal character.”
+
+The king blushed with pleasure.
+
+“We have spent a great deal of money these few days past, Monsieur Fouquet; will you not scold me for it?”
+
+“Sire, your majesty has still twenty years of youth to enjoy, and a thousand million francs to lavish in those twenty years.”
+
+“That is a great deal of money, M. Fouquet,” said the king.
+
+“I will economize, sire. Besides, your majesty as two valuable servants in M. Colbert and myself. The one will encourage you to be prodigal with your treasures -- and this shall be myself, if my services should continue to be agreeable to your majesty; and the other will economize money for you, and this will be M. Colbert’s province.”
+
+“M. Colbert?” returned the king, astonished.
+
+“Certainly, sire; M. Colbert is an excellent accountant.”
+
+At this commendation, bestowed by the traduced on the traducer, the king felt himself penetrated with confidence and admiration. There was not, moreover, either in Fouquet’s voice or look, anything which injuriously affected a single syllable of the remark he had made; he did not pass one eulogium, as it were, in order to acquire the right of making two reproaches. The king comprehended him, and yielding to so much generosity and address, he said, “You praise M. Colbert, then?”
+
+“Yes, sire, I praise him; for, besides being a man of merit, I believe him to be devoted to your majesty’s interests.”
+
+“Is that because he has often interfered with your own views?” said the king, smiling.
+
+“Exactly, sire.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“It is simple enough. I am the man who is needed to make the money come in; he is the man who is needed to prevent it leaving.”
+
+“Nay, nay, monsieur le surintendant, you will presently say something which will correct this good opinion.”
+
+“Do you mean as far as administrative abilities are concerned, sire?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Not in the slightest.”
+
+“Really?”
+
+“Upon my honor, sire, I do not know throughout France a better clerk than M. Colbert.”
+
+This word “clerk” did not possess, in 1661, the somewhat subservient signification attached to it in the present day; but, as spoken by Fouquet, whom the king had addressed as the superintendent, it seemed to acquire an insignificant and petty character, that at this juncture served admirably to restore Fouquet to his place, and Colbert to his own.
+
+“And yet,” said Louis XIV., “it was Colbert, however, that, notwithstanding his economy, had the arrangement of my fetes here at Fontainebleau; and I assure you, Monsieur Fouquet, that in no way has he checked the expenditure of money.” Fouquet bowed, but did not reply.
+
+“Is it not your opinion too?” said the king.
+
+“I think, sire,” he replied, “that M. Colbert has done what he had to do in an exceedingly orderly manner, and that he deserves, in this respect, all the praise your majesty may bestow upon him.”
+
+The word “orderly” was a proper accompaniment for the word “clerk.” The king possessed that extreme sensitiveness of organization, that delicacy of perception, which pierced through and detected the regular order of feelings and sensations, before the actual sensations themselves, and he therefore comprehended that the clerk had, in Fouquet’s opinion, been too full of method and order in his arrangements; in other words, that the magnificent fetes of Fontainebleau might have been rendered more magnificent still. The king consequently felt that there was something in the amusements he had provided with which some person or another might be able to find fault; he experienced a little of the annoyance felt by a person coming from the provinces to Paris, dressed out in the very best clothes which his wardrobe can furnish, only to find that the fashionably dressed man there looks at him either too much or not enough. This part of the conversation, which Fouquet had carried on with so much moderation, yet with extreme tact, inspired the king with the highest esteem for the character of the man and the capacity of the minister. Fouquet took his leave at a quarter to three in the morning, and the king went to bed a little uneasy and confused at the indirect lesson he had received; and a good hour was employed by him in going over again in memory the embroideries, the tapestries, the bills of fare of the various banquets, the architecture of the triumphal arches, the arrangements for the illuminations and fireworks, all the offspring of the “Clerk Colbert’s” invention. The result was, the king passed in review before him everything that had taken place during the last eight days, and decided that faults could be found in his fetes. But Fouquet, by his politeness, his thoughtful consideration, and his generosity, had injured Colbert more deeply than the latter, by his artifice, his ill-will, and his persevering hatred, had ever yet succeeded in hurting Fouquet.
+
+Chapter XLVIII. Fontainebleau at Two o’Clock in the Morning.
+
+As we have seen, Saint-Aignan had quitted the king’s apartment at the very moment the superintendent entered it. Saint-Aignan was charged with a mission that required dispatch, and he was going to do his utmost to turn his time to the best advantage. He whom we have introduced as the king’s friend was indeed an uncommon personage; he was one of those valuable courtiers whose vigilance and acuteness of perception threw all other favorites into the shade, and counterbalanced, by his close attention, the servility of Dangeau, who was not the favorite, but the toady of the king. M. de Saint-Aignan began to think what was to be done in the present position of affairs. He reflected that his first information ought to come from De Guiche. He therefore set out in search of him, but De Guiche, whom we saw disappear behind one of the wings, and who seemed to have returned to his own apartments, had not entered the chateau. Saint-Aignan therefore went in quest of him, and after having turned, and twisted, and searched in every direction, he perceived something like a human form leaning against a tree. This figure was as motionless as a statue, and seemed deeply engaged in looking at a window, although its curtains were closely drawn. As this window happened to be Madame’s, Saint-Aignan concluded that the form in question must be that of De Guiche. He advanced cautiously, and found he was not mistaken. De Guiche had, after his conversation with Madame, carried away such a weight of happiness, that all of his strength of mind was hardly sufficient to enable him to support it. On his side, Saint-Aignan knew that De Guiche had had something to do with La Valliere’s introduction to Madame’s household, for a courtier knows everything and forgets nothing; but he had never learned under what title or conditions De Guiche had conferred his protection upon La Valliere. But, as in asking a great many questions it is singular if a man does not learn something, Saint-Aignan reckoned upon learning much or little, as the case might be, if he questioned De Guiche with that extreme tact, and, at the same time, with that persistence in attaining an object, of which he was capable. Saint-Aignan’s plan was as follows: If the information obtained was satisfactory, he would inform the king, with alacrity, that he had lighted upon a pearl, and claim the privilege of setting the pearl in question in the royal crown. If the information were unsatisfactory, -- which, after all, might be possible, -- he would examine how far the king cared about La Valliere, and make use of his information in such a manner as to get rid of the girl altogether, and thereby obtain all the merit of her banishment with all the ladies of the court who might have the least pretensions to the king’s heart, beginning with Madame and finishing with the queen. In case the king should show himself obstinate in his fancy, then he would not produce the damaging information he had obtained, but would let La Valliere know that this damaging information was carefully preserved in a secret drawer of her confidant’s memory. In this manner, he would be able to air his generosity before the poor girl’s eyes, and so keep her in constant suspense between gratitude and apprehension, to such an extent as to make her a friend at court, interested, as an accomplice, in trying to make his fortune, while she was making her own. As far as concerned the day when the bombshell of the past should burst, if ever there were any occasion, Saint-Aignan promised himself that he would by that time have taken all possible precautions, and would pretend an entire ignorance of the matter to the king; while, with regard to La Valliere, he would still have an opportunity of being considered the personification of generosity. It was with such ideas as these, which the fire of covetousness had caused to dawn in half an hour, that Saint-Aignan, the son of earth, as La Fontaine would have said, determined to get De Guiche into conversation: in other words, to trouble him in his happiness -- a happiness of which Saint-Aignan was quite ignorant. It was long past one o’clock in the morning when Saint-Aignan perceived De Guiche, standing, motionless, leaning against the trunk of a tree, with his eyes fastened upon the lighted window, -- the sleepiest hour of night-time, which painters crown with myrtles and budding poppies, the hour when eyes are heavy, hearts throb, and heads feel dull and languid -- an hour which casts upon the day which has passed away a look of regret, while addressing a loving greeting to the dawning light. For De Guiche it was the dawn of unutterable happiness; he would have bestowed a treasure upon a beggar, had one stood before him, to secure him uninterrupted indulgence in his dreams. It was precisely at this hour that Saint-Aignan, badly advised, -- selfishness always counsels badly, -- came and struck him on the shoulder, at the very moment he was murmuring a word, or rather a name.
+
+“Ah!” he cried loudly, “I was looking for you.”
+
+“For me?” said De Guiche, starting.
+
+“Yes; and I find you seemingly moon-struck. Is it likely, my dear comte, you have been attacked by a poetical malady, and are making verses?”
+
+The young man forced a smile upon his lips, while a thousand conflicting sensations were muttering defiance of Saint-Aignan in the deep recesses of his heart. “Perhaps,” he said. “But by what happy chance -- ”
+
+“Ah! your remark shows that you did not hear what I said.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Why, I began by telling you I was looking for you.”
+
+“You were looking for me?”
+
+“Yes: and I find you now in the very act.”
+
+“Of doing what, I should like to know?”
+
+“Of singing the praises of Phyllis.”
+
+“Well, I do not deny it,” said De Guiche, laughing. “Yes, my dear comte, I was celebrating Phyllis’s praises.”
+
+“And you have acquired the right to do so.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“You; no doubt of it. You; the intrepid protector of every beautiful and clever woman.”
+
+“In the name of goodness, what story have you got hold of now?”
+
+“Acknowledged truths, I am well aware. But stay a moment; I am in love.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“So much the better, my dear comte; tell me all about it.” And De Guiche, afraid that Saint-Aignan might perhaps presently observe the window, where the light was still burning, took the comte’s arm and endeavored to lead him away.
+
+“Oh!” said the latter, resisting, “do not take me towards those dark woods, it is too damp there. Let us stay in the moonlight.” And while he yielded to the pressure of De Guiche’s arm, he remained in the flower-garden adjoining the chateau.
+
+“Well,” said De Guiche, resigning himself, “lead me where you like, and ask me what you please.”
+
+“It is impossible to be more agreeable than you are.” And then, after a moment’s silence, Saint-Aignan continued, “I wish you to tell me something about a certain person in who you have interested yourself.”
+
+“And with whom you are in love?”
+
+“I will neither admit nor deny it. You understand that a man does not very readily place his heart where there is no hope of return, and that it is most essential he should take measures of security in advance.”
+
+“You are right,” said De Guiche with a sigh; “a man’s heart is a very precious gift.”
+
+“Mine particularly is very tender, and in that light I present it to you.”
+
+“Oh! you are well known, comte. Well?”
+
+“It is simply a question of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Why, my dear Saint-Aignan, you are losing your senses, I should think.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“I have never shown or taken any interest in Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Did you not obtain admission for Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente into Madame’s household?”
+
+“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente -- and you ought to know it better than any one else, my dear comte -- is of a sufficiently good family to make her presence here desirable, and her admittance very easy.”
+
+“You are jesting.”
+
+“No; and upon my honor I do not know what you mean.”
+
+“And you had nothing, then, to do with her admission?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You do not know her?”
+
+“I saw her for the first time the day she was presented to Madame. Therefore, as I have never taken any interest in her, as I do not know her, I am not able to give you the information you require.” And De Guiche made a movement as though he were about to leave his questioner.
+
+“Nay, nay, one moment, my dear comte,” said Saint-Aignan; “you shall not escape me in this manner.”
+
+“Why, really, it seems to me that it is now time to return to our apartments.”
+
+“And yet you were not going in when I -- did not meet, but found you.”
+
+“Therefore, my dear comte,” said De Guiche, “as long as you have anything to say to me, I place myself entirely at your service.”
+
+“And you are quite right in doing so. What matters half an hour more or less? Will you swear that you have no injurious communications to make to me about her, and that any injurious communications you might possibly have to make are not the cause of your silence?”
+
+“Oh! I believe the poor child to be as pure as crystal.”
+
+“You overwhelm me with joy. And yet I do not wish to have towards you the appearance of a man so badly informed as I seem. It is quite certain that you supplied the princess’s household with the ladies of honor. Nay, a song has even been written about it.”
+
+“Oh! songs are written about everything.”
+
+“Do you know it?”
+
+“No: sing it to me and I shall make its acquaintance.”
+
+“I cannot tell you how it begins; I only remember how it ends.”
+
+“Very well, at all events, that is something.”
+
+“When Maids of Honor happen to run short, Lo! -- Guiche will furnish the entire Court.”
+
+“The idea is weak, and the rhyme poor,” said De Guiche.
+
+“What can you expect, my dear fellow? it is not Racine’s or Moliere’s, but La Feuillade’s; and a great lord cannot rhyme like a beggarly poet.”
+
+“It is very unfortunate, though, that you only remember the termination.”
+
+“Stay, stay, I have just recollected the beginning of the second couplet.”
+
+“Why, there’s the birdcage, with a pretty pair, The charming Montalais, and...”
+
+“And La Valliere,” exclaimed Guiche, impatiently, and completely ignorant besides of Saint-Aignan’s object.
+
+“Yes, yes, you have it. You have hit upon the word, ‘La Valliere.’”
+
+“A grand discovery indeed.”
+
+“Montalais and La Valliere, these, then, are the two young girls in whom you interest yourself,” said Saint-Aignan, laughing.
+
+“And so Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente’s name is not to be met with in the song?”
+
+“No, indeed.”
+
+“And are you satisfied, then?”
+
+“Perfectly; but I find Montalais there,” said Saint-Aignan, still laughing.
+
+“Oh! you will find her everywhere. She is a singularly active young lady.”
+
+“You know her?”
+
+“Indirectly. She was the protegee of a man named Malicorne, who is a protegee of Manicamp’s; Manicamp asked me to get the situation of maid of honor for Montalais in Madame’s household, and a situation for Malicorne as an officer in Monsieur’s household. Well, I asked for the appointments, for you know very well that I have a weakness for that droll fellow Manicamp.”
+
+“And you obtained what you sought?”
+
+“For Montalais, yes; for Malicorne, yes and no; for as yet he is only on trial. Do you wish to know anything else?”
+
+“The last word of the couplet still remains, La Valliere,” said Saint-Aignan, resuming the smile that so tormented Guiche.
+
+“Well,” said the latter, “it is true that I obtained admission for her in Madame’s household.”
+
+“Ah!” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“But,” continued Guiche, assuming a great coldness of manner, “you will oblige me, comte, not to jest about that name. Mademoiselle la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere is a young lady perfectly well-conducted.”
+
+“Perfectly well-conducted do you say?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then you have not heard the last rumor?” exclaimed Saint-Aignan.
+
+“No, and you will do me a service, my dear comte, in keeping this report to yourself and to those who circulate it.”
+
+“Ah! bah! you take the matter up very seriously.”
+
+“Yes; Mademoiselle de Valliere is beloved by one of my best friends.”
+
+Saint-Aignan started. “Aha!” he said.
+
+“Yes, comte,” continued Guiche; “and consequently, you, the most distinguished man in France for polished courtesy of manner, will understand that I cannot allow my friend to be placed in a ridiculous position.”
+
+Saint-Aignan began to bite his nails, partially from vexation, and partially from disappointed curiosity. Guiche made him a very profound bow.
+
+“You send me away,” said Saint-Aignan, who was dying to know the name of the friend.
+
+“I do not send you away, my dear fellow. I am going to finish my lines to Phyllis.”
+
+“And those lines -- ”
+
+“Are a quatrain. You understand, I trust, that a quatrain is a serious affair?”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“And as, of these four lines, of which it is composed, I have yet three and a half to make, I need my undivided attention.”
+
+“I quite understand. Adieu! comte. By the by -- ”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Are you quick at making verses?”
+
+“Wonderfully so.”
+
+“Will you have quite finished the three lines and a half to-morrow morning?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“Adieu, then, until to-morrow.”
+
+“Adieu, adieu!”
+
+Saint-Aignan was obliged to accept the notice to quit; he accordingly did so, and disappeared behind the hedge. Their conversation had led Guiche and Saint-Aignan a good distance from the chateau.
+
+Every mathematician, every poet, and every dreamer has his own subjects of interest. Saint-Aignan, on leaving Guiche, found himself at the extremity of the grove, -- at the very spot where the outbuildings of the servants begin, and where, behind the thickets of acacias and chestnut-trees interlacing their branches, which were hidden by masses of clematis and young vines, the wall which separated the woods from the courtyard was erected. Saint-Aignan, alone, took the path which led towards these buildings; De Guiche going off in the opposite direction. The one proceeded to the flower-garden, while the other bent his steps towards the walls. Saint-Aignan walked on between rows of mountain-ash, lilac, and hawthorn, which formed an almost impenetrable roof above his head; his feet were buried in the soft gravel and thick moss. He was deliberating a means of taking his revenge, which seemed difficult for him to carry out, and was vexed with himself for not having learned more about La Valliere, notwithstanding the ingenious measures he had resorted to in order to acquire more information about her, when suddenly the murmur of a human voice attracted his attention. He heard whispers, the complaining tones of a woman’s voice mingled with entreaties, smothered laughter, sighs, and half-stilted exclamations of surprise; but above them all, the woman’s voice prevailed. Saint-Aignan stopped to look about him; he perceived from the greatest surprise that the voices proceeded, not from the ground, but from the branches of the trees. As he glided along under the covered walk, he raised his head, and observed at the top of the wall a woman perched upon a ladder, in eager conversation with a man seated on a branch of a chestnut-tree, whose head alone could be seen, the rest of his body being concealed in the thick covert of the chestnut. [5]
+
+Chapter XLIX. The Labyrinth.
+
+Saint-Aignan, who had only been seeking for information, had met with an adventure. This was indeed a piece of good luck. Curious to learn why, and particularly what about, this man and woman were conversing at such an hour, and in such a singular position, Saint-Aignan made himself as small as he possibly could, and approached almost under the rounds of the ladder. And taking measures to make himself as comfortable as possible, he leaned his back against a tree and listened, and heard the following conversation. The woman was the first to speak.
+
+“Really, Monsieur Manicamp,” she said, in a voice which, notwithstanding the reproaches she addressed to him, preserved a marked tone of coquetry, “really your indiscretion is of a very dangerous character. We cannot talk long in this manner without being observed.”
+
+“That is very probable,” said the man, in the calmest and coolest of tones.
+
+“In that case, then, what would people say? Oh! if any one were to see me, I declare I should die of very shame.”
+
+“Oh! that would be very silly; I do not believe you would.”
+
+“It might have been different if there had been anything between us; but to injure myself gratuitously is really very foolish of me; so, adieu, Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“So far so good; I know the man, and now let me see who the woman is,” said Saint-Aignan, watching the rounds of the ladder, on which were standing two pretty little feet covered with blue satin shoes.
+
+“Nay, nay, for pity’s sake, my dear Montalais,” cried Manicamp, “deuce take it, do not go away; I have a great many things to say to you, of the greatest importance, still.”
+
+“Montalais,” said Saint-Aignan to himself, “one of the three. Each of the three gossips had her adventure, only I imagined the hero of this one’s adventure was Malicorne and not Manicamp.”
+
+At her companion’s appeal, Montalais stopped in the middle of her descent, and Saint-Aignan could observe the unfortunate Manicamp climb from one branch of the chestnut-tree to another, either to improve his situation or to overcome the fatigue consequent upon his inconvenient position.
+
+“Now, listen to me,” said he; “you quite understand, I hope, that my intentions are perfectly innocent?”
+
+“Of course. But why did you write me a letter stimulating my gratitude towards you? Why did you ask me for an interview at such an hour and in such a place as this?”
+
+“I stimulated your gratitude in reminding you that it was I who had been the means of your becoming attached to Madame’s household; because most anxiously desirous of obtaining the interview you have been kind enough to grant me, I employed the means which appeared to me most certain to insure it. And my reason for soliciting it, at such an hour and in such a locality, was, that the hour seemed to me to be the most prudent, and the locality the least open to observation. Moreover, I had occasion to speak to you upon certain subjects which require both prudence and solitude.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp!”
+
+“But everything I wish to say is perfectly honorable, I assure you.”
+
+“I think, Monsieur Manicamp, it will be more becoming in me to take my leave.”
+
+“No, no! -- listen to me, or I will jump from my perch here to yours; and be careful how you set me at defiance, for a branch of this chestnut-tree causes me a good deal of annoyance, and may provoke me to extreme measures. Do not follow the example of this branch, then, but listen to me.”
+
+“I am listening, and I agree to do so; but be as brief as possible, for if you have a branch of the chestnut-tree which annoys you, I wish you to understand that one of the rounds of the ladder is hurting the soles of my feet, and my shoes are being cut through.”
+
+“Do me the kindness to give me your hand.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Will you have the goodness to do so?”
+
+“There is my hand, then; but what are you going to do?”
+
+“To draw you towards me.”
+
+“What for? You surely do not wish me to join you in the tree?”
+
+“No; but I wish you to sit down upon the wall; there, that will do; there is quite room enough, and I would give a great deal to be allowed to sit down beside you.”
+
+“No, no; you are very well where you are; we should be seen.”
+
+“Do you really think so?” said Manicamp, in an insinuating voice.
+
+“I am sure of it.”
+
+“Very well, I remain in my tree, then, although I cannot be worse placed.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp, we are wandering away from the subject.”
+
+“You are right, we are so.”
+
+“You wrote me a letter?”
+
+“I did.”
+
+“Why did you write?”
+
+“Fancy, at two o’clock to-day, De Guiche left.”
+
+“What then?”
+
+“Seeing him set off, I followed him, as I usually do.”
+
+“Of course, I see that, since you are here now.”
+
+“Don’t be in a hurry. You are aware, I suppose, that De Guiche is up to his very neck in disgrace?”
+
+“Alas! yes.”
+
+“It was the very height of imprudence on his part, then, to come to Fontainebleau to seek those who had at Paris sent him away into exile, and particularly those from whom he had been separated.”
+
+“Monsieur Manicamp, you reason like Pythagoras.”
+
+“Moreover, De Guiche is as obstinate as a man in love can be, and he refused to listen to any of my remonstrances. I begged, I implored him, but he would not listen to anything. Oh, the deuce!”
+
+“What’s the matter?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle Montalais, but this confounded branch, about which I have already had the honor of speaking to you, has just torn a certain portion of my dress.”
+
+“It is quite dark,” replied Montalais, laughing; “so, pray continue, M. Manicamp.”
+
+“De Guiche set off on horseback as hard as he could, I following him, at a slower pace. You quite understand that to throw one’s self into the water, for instance, with a friend, at the same headlong rate as he himself would do it, would be the act either of a fool or a madman. I therefore allowed De Guiche to get in advance, and I proceeded on my way with a commendable slowness of pace, feeling quite sure that my unfortunate friend would not be received, or, if he had been, that he would ride off again at the very first cross, disagreeable answer; and that I should see him returning much faster than he went, without having, myself, gone much farther than Ris or Melun -- and that even was a good distance you will admit, for it is eleven leagues to get there and as many to return.”
+
+Montalais shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Laugh as much as you like; but if, instead of being comfortably seated on the top of the wall as you are, you were sitting on this branch as if you were on horseback, you would, like Augustus, aspire to descend.”
+
+“Be patient, my dear M. Manicamp; a few minutes will soon pass away; you were saying, I think, that you had gone beyond Ris and Melun.”
+
+“Yes, I went through Ris and Melun, and I continued to go on, more and more surprised that I did not see him returning; and here I am at Fontainebleau; I look for and inquire after De Guiche everywhere, but no one has seen him, no one in the town has spoken to him; he arrived riding at full gallop, he entered the chateau; and there he has disappeared. I have been here at Fontainebleau since eight o’clock this evening inquiring for De Guiche in every direction, but no De Guiche can be found. I am dying with uneasiness. You understand that I have not been running my head into the lion’s den, in entering the chateau, as my imprudent friend has done; I came at once to the servants’ offices, and I succeeded in getting a letter conveyed to you; and now, for Heaven’s sake, my dear young lady, relieve me from my anxiety.”
+
+“There will be no difficulty in that, my dear M. Manicamp; your friend De Guiche has been admirably received.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“The king made quite a fuss over him.”
+
+“The king, who exiled him!”
+
+“Madame smiled upon him, and Monsieur appears to like him better than ever.”
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Manicamp, “that explains to me, then, why and how he has remained. And did he not say anything about me?”
+
+“Not a word.”
+
+“That is very unkind. What is he doing now?”
+
+“In all probability he is asleep, or, if not asleep, dreaming.”
+
+“And what have they been doing all the evening?”
+
+“Dancing.”
+
+“The famous ballet? How did De Guiche look?”
+
+“Superb!”
+
+“Dear fellow! And now, pray forgive me, Mademoiselle Montalais; but all I now have to do is pass from where I now am to your apartment.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I cannot suppose that the door of the chateau will be opened for me at this hour; and as for spending the night upon this branch, I possibly might not object to do so, but I declare it is impossible for any other animal than a boa-constrictor to do it.”
+
+“But, M. Manicamp, I cannot introduce a man over the wall in that manner.”
+
+“Two, if you please,” said a second voice, but in so timid a tone that it seemed as if its owner felt the utter impropriety of such a request.
+
+“Good gracious!” exclaimed Montalais, “who is that speaking to me?”
+
+“Malicorne, Mademoiselle Montalais.”
+
+And as Malicorne spoke, he raised himself from the ground to the lowest branches, and thence to the height of the wall.
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne! why, you are both mad!”
+
+“How do you do, Mademoiselle Montalais?” inquired Malicorne.
+
+“I needed but this!” said Montalais, in despair.
+
+“Oh! Mademoiselle Montalais,” murmured Malicorne; “do not be so severe, I beseech you.”
+
+“In fact,” said Manicamp, “we are your friends, and you cannot possibly wish your friends to lose their lives; and to leave us to pass the night on these branches is in fact condemning us to death.”
+
+“Oh!” said Montalais, “Monsieur Malicorne is so robust that a night passed in the open air with the beautiful stars above him will not do him any harm, and it will be a just punishment for the trick he has played me.”
+
+“Be it so, then; let Malicorne arrange matters with you in the best way he can; I pass over,” said Manicamp. And bending down the famous branch against which he had directed such bitter complaints, he succeeded, by the assistance of his hands and feet, in seating himself side by side with Montalais, who tried to push him back, while he endeavored to maintain his position, and, moreover, he succeeded. Having taken possession of the ladder, he stepped on it, and then gallantly offered his hand to his fair antagonist. While this was going on, Malicorne had installed himself in the chestnut-tree, in the very place Manicamp had just left, determining within himself to succeed him in the one he now occupied. Manicamp and Montalais descended a few rounds of the ladder, Manicamp insisting, and Montalais laughing and objecting.
+
+Suddenly Malicorne’s voice was heard in tones of entreaty:
+
+“I entreat you, Mademoiselle Montalais, not to leave me here. My position is very insecure, and some accident will be certain to befall me, if I attempt unaided to reach the other side of the wall; it does not matter if Manicamp tears his clothes, for he can make use of M. de Guiche’s wardrobe; but I shall not be able to use even those belonging to M. Manicamp, for they will be torn.”
+
+“My opinion,” said Manicamp, without taking any notice of Malicorne’s lamentations, “is that the best thing to be done is to go and look for De Guiche without delay, for, by and by, perhaps, I may not be able to get to his apartments.”
+
+“That is my own opinion, too,” replied Montalais; “so, go at once, Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“A thousand thanks. Adieu Mademoiselle Montalais,” said Manicamp, jumping to the ground; “your condescension cannot be repaid.”
+
+“Farewell, M. Manicamp; I am now going to get rid of M. Malicorne.”
+
+Malicorne sighed. Manicamp went away a few paces, but returning to the foot of the ladder, he said, “By the by, how do I get to M. de Guiche’s apartments?”
+
+“Nothing easier. You go along by the hedge until you reach a place where the paths cross.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You will see four paths.”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“One of which you will take.”
+
+“Which of them?”
+
+“That to the right.”
+
+“That to the right?”
+
+“No, to the left.”
+
+“The deuce!”
+
+“No, no, wait a minute -- ”
+
+“You do not seem to be quite sure. Think again, I beg.”
+
+“You take the middle path.”
+
+“But there are four.”
+
+“So there are. All I know is, that one of the four paths leads straight to Madame’s apartments; and that one I am well acquainted with.”
+
+“But M. de Guiche is not in Madame’s apartments, I suppose?”
+
+“No, indeed.”
+
+“Well, then the path which leads to Madame’s apartments is of no use to me, and I would willingly exchange it for the one that leads to where M. de Guiche is lodging.”
+
+“Of course, and I know that as well; but as for indicating it from where we are, it is quite impossible.”
+
+“Well, let us suppose that I have succeeded in finding that fortunate path.”
+
+“In that case, you are almost there, for you have nothing else to do but cross the labyrinth.”
+
+“Nothing more than that? The deuce! so there is a labyrinth as well.”
+
+“Yes, and complicated enough too; even in daylight one may sometimes be deceived, -- there are turnings and windings without end: in the first place, you must turn three times to the right, then twice to the left, then turn once -- stay, is it once or twice, though? at all events, when you get clear of the labyrinth, you will see an avenue of sycamores, and this avenue leads straight to the pavilion in which M. de Guiche is lodging.”
+
+“Nothing could be more clearly indicated,” said Manicamp; “and I have not the slightest doubt in the world that if I were to follow your directions, I should lose my way immediately. I have, therefore, a slight service to ask of you.”
+
+“What may that be?”
+
+“That you will offer me your arm and guide me yourself, like another -- like another -- I used to know mythology, but other important matters have made me forget it; pray come with me, then?”
+
+“And am I to be abandoned, then?” cried Malicorne.
+
+“It is quite impossible, monsieur,” said Montalais to Manicamp; “if I were to be seen with you at such an hour, what would be said of me?”
+
+“Your own conscience would acquit you,” said Manicamp, sententiously.
+
+“Impossible, monsieur, impossible.”
+
+“In that case, let me assist Malicorne to get down; he is a very intelligent fellow, and possesses a very keen scent; he will guide me, and if we lose ourselves, both of us will be lost, and the one will save the other. If we are together, and should be met by any one, we shall look as if we had some matter of business in hand; whilst alone I should have the appearance either of a lover or a robber. Come, Malicorne, here is the ladder.”
+
+Malicorne had already stretched out one of his legs towards the top of the wall, when Manicamp said, in a whisper, “Hush!”
+
+“What’s the matter?” inquired Montalais.
+
+“I hear footsteps.”
+
+“Good heavens!”
+
+In fact the fancied footsteps soon became a reality; the foliage was pushed aside, and Saint-Aignan appeared, with a smile on his lips, and his hand stretched out towards them, taking every one by surprise; that is to say, Malicorne upon the tree with his head stretched out, Montalais upon the round of the ladder and clinging to it tightly, and Manicamp on the ground with his foot advanced ready to set off. “Good-evening, Manicamp,” said the comte, “I am glad to see you, my dear fellow; we missed you this evening, and a good many inquiries have been made about you. Mademoiselle de Montalais, your most obedient servant.”
+
+Montalais blushed. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, hiding her face in both her hands.
+
+“Pray reassure yourself; I know how perfectly innocent you are, and I shall give a good account of you. Manicamp, do you follow me: the hedge, the cross-paths, and labyrinth, I am well acquainted with them all; I will be your Ariadne. There now, your mythological name is found at last.”
+
+“Perfectly true, comte.”
+
+“And take M. Malicorne away with you at the same time,” said Montalais.
+
+“No, indeed,” said Malicorne; “M. Manicamp has conversed with you as long as he liked, and now it is my turn, if you please; I have a multitude of things to tell you about our future prospects.”
+
+“You hear,” said the comte, laughing; “stay with him, Mademoiselle Montalais. This is, indeed, a night for secrets.” And, taking Manicamp’s arm, the comte led him rapidly away in the direction of the road Montalais knew so well, and indicated so badly. Montalais followed them with her eyes as long as she could perceive them.
+
+Chapter L: How Malicorne Had Been Turned Out of the Hotel of the Beau Paon.
+
+While Montalais was engaged in looking after the comte and Manicamp, Malicorne had taken advantage of the young girl’s attention being drawn away to render his position somewhat more tolerable, and when she turned round, she immediately noticed the change which had taken place; for he had seated himself, like a monkey, upon the wall, the foliage of the wild vine and honeysuckle curled around his head like a faun, while the twisted ivy branches represented tolerably enough his cloven feet. Montalais required nothing to make her resemblance to a dryad as complete as possible. “Well,” she said, ascending another round of the ladder, “are you resolved to render me unhappy? have you not persecuted me enough, tyrant that you are?”
+
+“I a tyrant?” said Malicorne.
+
+“Yes, you are always compromising me, Monsieur Malicorne; you are a perfect monster of wickedness.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“What have you to do with Fontainebleau? Is not Orleans your place of residence?”
+
+“Do you ask me what I have to do here? I wanted to see you.”
+
+“Ah, great need of that.”
+
+“Not as far as concerns yourself, perhaps, but as far as I am concerned, Mademoiselle Montalais, you know very well that I have left my home, and that, for the future, I have no other place of residence than that which you may happen to have. As you, therefore, are staying at Fontainebleau at the present moment, I have come to Fontainebleau.”
+
+Montalais shrugged her shoulders. “You wished to see me, did you not?” she said.
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“Very well, you have seen me, -- you are satisfied; so now go away.”
+
+“Oh, no,” said Malicorne; “I came to talk with you as well as to see you.”
+
+“Very well, we will talk by and by, and in another place than this.”
+
+“By and by! Heaven only knows if I shall meet you by and by in another place. We shall never find a more favorable one than this.”
+
+“But I cannot this evening, nor at the present moment.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because a thousand things have happened to-night.”
+
+“Well, then, my affair will make a thousand and one.”
+
+“No, no; Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente is waiting for me in our room to communicate something of the very greatest importance.”
+
+“How long has she been waiting?”
+
+“For an hour at least.”
+
+“In that case,” said Malicorne, tranquilly, “she can wait a few minutes longer.”
+
+“Monsieur Malicorne,” said Montalais, “you are forgetting yourself.”
+
+“You should rather say that it is you who are forgetting me, and that I am getting impatient at the part you make me play here indeed! For the last week I have been prowling about among the company, and you have not once deigned to notice my presence.”
+
+“Have you been prowling about here for a week, M. Malicorne?”
+
+“Like a wolf; sometimes I have been burnt by the fireworks, which have singed two of my wigs; at others, I have been completely drenched in the osiers by the evening damps, or the spray from the fountains, -- half-famished, fatigued to death, with the view of a wall always before me, and the prospect of having to scale it perhaps. Upon my word, this is not the sort of life for any one to lead who is neither a squirrel, a salamander, nor an otter; and since you drive your inhumanity so far as to wish to make me renounce my condition as a man, I declare it openly. A man I am, indeed, and a man I will remain, unless by superior orders.”
+
+“Well, then, tell me, what do you wish, -- what do you require, -- what do you insist upon?” said Montalais, in a submissive tone.
+
+“Do you mean to tell me that you did not know I was at Fontainebleau?”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Nay, be frank.”
+
+“I suspected so.”
+
+“Well, then, could you not have contrived during the last week to have seen me once a day, at least?”
+
+“I have always been prevented, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Fiddlesticks!”
+
+“Ask my companion, if you do not believe me.”
+
+“I shall ask no one to explain matters, I know better than any one.”
+
+“Compose yourself, M. Malicorne: things will change.”
+
+“They must indeed.”
+
+“You know that, whether I see you or not, I am thinking of you,” said Montalais, in a coaxing tone of voice.
+
+“Oh, you are thinking of me, are you? well, and is there anything new?”
+
+“What about?”
+
+“About my post in Monsieur’s household.”
+
+“Ah, my dear Malicorne, no one has ventured lately to approach his royal highness.”
+
+“Well, but now?”
+
+“Now it is quite a different thing; since yesterday he has left off being jealous.”
+
+“Bah! how has his jealousy subsided?”
+
+“It has been diverted into another channel.”
+
+“Tell me all about it.”
+
+“A report was spread that the king had fallen in love with some one else, and Monsieur was tranquillized immediately.”
+
+“And who spread the report?”
+
+Montalais lowered her voice. “Between ourselves,” she said, “I think that Madame and the king have come to a secret understanding about it.”
+
+“Ah!” said Malicorne; “that was the only way to manage it. But what about poor M. de Guiche?”
+
+“Oh, as for him, he is completely turned off.”
+
+“Have they been writing to each other?”
+
+“No, certainly not; I have not seen a pen in either of their hands for the last week.”
+
+“On what terms are you with Madame?”
+
+“The very best.”
+
+“And with the king?”
+
+“The king always smiles at me whenever I pass him.”
+
+“Good. Now tell me whom have the two lovers selected to serve as their screen?”
+
+“La Valliere.”
+
+“Oh, oh, poor girl! We must prevent that!”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because, if M. Raoul Bragelonne were to suspect it, he would either kill her or kill himself.”
+
+“Raoul, poor fellow! do you think so?”
+
+“Women pretend to have a knowledge of the state of people’s affections,” said Malicorne, “and they do not even know how to read the thoughts of their own minds and hearts. Well, I can tell you that M. de Bragelonne loves La Valliere to such a degree that, if she deceived him, he would, I repeat, either kill himself or kill her.”
+
+“But the king is there to defend her,” said Montalais.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Malicorne; “Raoul would kill the king as he would a common thief.”
+
+“Good heavens!” said Montalais; “you are mad, M. Malicorne.”
+
+“Not in the least. Everything I have told you is, on the contrary, perfectly serious; and, for my own part, I know one thing.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“That I shall quietly tell Raoul of the trick.”
+
+“Hush!” said Montalais, mounting another round of the ladder, so as to approach Malicorne more closely, “do not open your lips to poor Raoul.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because, as yet you know nothing at all.”
+
+“What is the matter, then?”
+
+“Why, this evening -- but no one is listening, I hope?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“This evening, then, beneath the royal oak, La Valliere said aloud, and innocently enough, ‘I cannot conceive that when one has once seen the king, one can ever love another man.’”
+
+Malicorne almost jumped off the wall. “Unhappy girl! did she really say that?”
+
+“Word for word.”
+
+“And she thinks so?”
+
+“La Valliere always thinks what she says.”
+
+“That positively cries aloud for vengeance. Why, women are the veriest serpents,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Compose yourself, my dear Malicorne, compose yourself.”
+
+“No, no; let us take the evil in time, on the contrary. There is time enough yet to tell Raoul of it.”
+
+“Blunderer, on the contrary, it is too late,” replied Montalais.
+
+“How so?”
+
+“La Valliere’s remark, which was intended for the king, reached its destination.”
+
+“The king knows it, then? The king was told of it, I suppose?”
+
+“The king heard it.”
+
+“Ahime! as the cardinal used to say.”
+
+“The king was hidden in the thicket close to the royal oak.”
+
+“It follows, then,” said Malicorne, “that for the future, the plan which the king and Madame have arranged, will go as easily as if it were on wheels, and will pass over poor Bragelonne’s body.”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“Well,” said Malicorne, after a moment’s reflection, “do not let us interpose our poor selves between a large oak-tree and a great king, for we should certainly be ground to pieces.”
+
+“The very thing I was going to say to you.”
+
+“Let us think of ourselves, then.”
+
+“My own idea.”
+
+“Open your beautiful eyes, then.”
+
+“And you your large ears.”
+
+“Approach your little mouth for a kiss.”
+
+“Here,” said Montalais, who paid the debt immediately in ringing coin.
+
+“Now let us consider. First, we have M. de Guiche, who is in love with Madame; then La Valliere, who is in love with the king; next, the king, who is in love both with Madame and La Valliere; lastly Monsieur, who loves no one but himself. Among all these loves, a noodle would make his fortune: a greater reason, therefore, for sensible people like ourselves to do so.”
+
+“There you are with your dreams again.”
+
+“Nay, rather with realities. Let me still lead you, darling. I do not think you have been very badly off hitherto?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, the future is guaranteed by the past. Only, since all here think of themselves before anything else, let us do so too.”
+
+“Perfectly right.”
+
+“But of ourselves only.”
+
+“Be it so.”
+
+“An offensive and defensive alliance.”
+
+“I am ready to swear it.”
+
+“Put out your hand, then, and say, ‘All for Malicorne.’”
+
+“All for Malicorne.”
+
+“And I, ‘All for Montalais,’” replied Malicorne, stretching out his hand in his turn.
+
+“And now, what is to be done?”
+
+“Keep your eyes and ears constantly open; collect every means of attack which may be serviceable against others; never let anything lie about which can be used against ourselves.”
+
+“Agreed.”
+
+“Decided.”
+
+“Sworn to. And now the agreement entered into, good-bye.”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘good-bye?’”
+
+“Of course you can now return to your inn.”
+
+“To my inn?”
+
+“Yes; are you not lodging at the sign of the Beau Paon?”
+
+“Montalais, Montalais, you now betray that you were aware of my being at Fontainebleau.”
+
+“Well; and what does that prove, except that I occupy myself about you more than you deserve?”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Go back, then, to the Beau Paon.”
+
+“That is now quite out of the question.”
+
+“Have you not a room there?”
+
+“I had, but have it no longer.”
+
+“Who has taken it from you, then?”
+
+“I will tell you. Some little time ago I was returning there, after I had been running about after you; and having reached my hotel quite out of breath, I perceived a litter, upon which four peasants were carrying a sick monk.”
+
+“A monk?”
+
+“Yes, an old gray-bearded Franciscan. As I was looking at the monk, they entered the hotel; and as they were carrying him up the staircase, I followed, and as I reached the top of the staircase I observed that they took him into my room.”
+
+“Into your room?”
+
+“Yes, into my own apartment. Supposing it to be a mistake, I summoned the landlord, who said that the room which had been let to me for the past eight days was let to the Franciscan for the ninth.”
+
+“Oh, oh!”
+
+“That was exactly what I said; nay, I did even more, for I was inclined to get out of temper. I went up-stairs again. I spoke to the Franciscan himself, and wished to prove to him the impropriety of the step; when this monk, dying though he seemed to be, raised himself upon his arm, fixed a pair of blazing eyes upon me, and, in a voice which was admirably suited for commanding a charge of cavalry, said, ‘Turn this fellow out of doors;’ which was done, immediately by the landlord and the four porters, who made me descend the staircase somewhat faster than was agreeable. This is how it happens, dearest, that I have no lodging.”
+
+“Who can this Franciscan be?” said Montalais. “Is he a general?”
+
+“That is exactly the very title that one of the bearers of the litter gave him as he spoke to him in a low tone.”
+
+“So that -- ” said Montalais.
+
+“So that I have no room, no hotel, no lodging; and I am as determined as my friend Manicamp was just now, not to pass the night in the open air.”
+
+“What is to be done, then?” said Montalais.
+
+“Nothing easier,” said a third voice; whereupon Montalais and Malicorne uttered a simultaneous cry, and Saint-Aignan appeared. “Dear Monsieur Malicorne,” said Saint-Aignan, “a very lucky accident has brought me back to extricate you from your embarrassment. Come, I can offer you a room in my own apartments, which, I can assure you, no Franciscan will deprive you of. As for you, my dear lady, rest easy. I already knew Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s secret, and that of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente; your own you have just been kind enough to confide to me; for which I thank you. I can keep three quite as well as one.” Malicorne and Montalais looked at each other, like children detected in a theft; but as Malicorne saw a great advantage in the proposition which had been made to him, he gave Montalais a sign of assent, which she returned. Malicorne then descended the ladder, round by round, reflecting at every step on the means of obtaining piecemeal from M. de Saint-Aignan all he might possibly know about the famous secret. Montalais had already darted away like a deer, and neither cross-road nor labyrinth was able to lead her wrong. As for Saint-Aignan, he carried off Malicorne with him to his apartments, showing him a thousand attentions, enchanted to have so close at hand the very two men who, even supposing De Guiche were to remain silent, could give him the best information about the maids of honor.
+
+Chapter LI. What Actually Occurred at the Inn Called the Beau Paon.
+
+In the first place, let us supply our readers with a few details about the inn called Beau Paon. It owed its name to its sign, which represented a peacock spreading its tail. But, in imitation of certain painters who bestowed the face of a handsome young man on the serpent which tempted Eve, the limner of the sign had conferred upon the peacock the features of a woman. This famous inn, an architectural epigram against that half of the human race which renders existence delightful, was situated at Fontainebleau, in the first turning on the left-hand side, which divides the road from Paris, the large artery that constitutes in itself alone the entire town of Fontainebleau. The side street in question was then known as the Rue de Lyon, doubtless because, geographically, it led in the direction of the second capital of the kingdom. The street itself was composed of two houses occupied by persons of the class of tradespeople, the houses being separated by two large gardens bordered with hedges running round them. Apparently, however, there were three houses in the street. Let us explain, notwithstanding appearances, how there were in fact only two. The inn of the Beau Paon had its principal front towards the main street; but upon the Rue de Lyon there were two ranges of buildings divided by courtyards, which comprised sets of apartments for the reception of all classes of travelers, whether on foot or on horseback, or even with their own carriages; and in which could be supplied, not only board and lodging, but also accommodation for exercise, or opportunities of solitude for even the wealthiest courtiers, whenever, after having received some check at the court, they wished to shut themselves up to their own society, either to devour an affront, or to brood on revenge. From the windows of this part of the building travelers could perceive, in the first place, the street with the grass growing between the stones, which were being gradually loosened by it; next the beautiful hedges of elder and thorn, which embraced, as though within two green and flowery arms, the house of which we have spoken; and then, in the spaces between those houses, forming the groundwork of the picture, and appearing an almost impassable barrier, a line of thick trees, the advanced sentinels of the vast forest which extends in front of Fontainebleau. It was therefore easy, provided one secured an apartment at the angle of the building, to obtain, by the main street from Paris, a view of, as well as to hear, the passers-by and the fetes; and, by the Rue de Lyon, to look upon and to enjoy the calm of the country. And this without reckoning that, in cases of urgent necessity, at the very moment people might be knocking at the principal door in the Rue de Paris, one could make one’s escape by the little door in the Rue de Lyon, and, creeping along the gardens of the private houses, attain the outskirts of the forest. Malicorne, who, it will be remembered, was the first to speak about this inn, by way of deploring his being turned out of it, being then absorbed in his own affairs, had not told Montalais all that could be said about this curious inn; and we will try to repair the omission. With the exception of the few words he had said about the Franciscan friar, Malicorne had not given any particulars about the travelers who were staying in the inn. The manner in which they had arrived, the manner in which they had lived, the difficulty which existed for every one but certain privileged travelers, of entering the hotel without a password, or living there without certain preparatory precautions, must have struck Malicorne; and, we will venture to say, really did so. But Malicorne, as we have already said, had personal matters of his own to occupy his attention which prevented him from paying much attention to others. In fact, all the apartments of the hotel were engaged and retained by certain strangers, who never stirred out, who were incommunicative in their address, with countenances full of thoughtful preoccupation, and not one of whom was known to Malicorne. Every one of these travelers had reached the hotel after his own arrival there; each man had entered after having given a kind of password, which had at first attracted Malicorne’s attention; but having inquired, in an indiscreet manner, about it, he had been informed that the host had given as a reason for this extreme vigilance, that, as the town was so full of wealthy noblemen, it must also be as full of clever and zealous pickpockets. The reputation of an honest inn like that of the Beau Paon was concerned in not allowing its visitors to be robbed. It occasionally happened that Malicorne asked himself, as he thought matters carefully over in his mind, and reflected upon his own position in the inn, how it was that they had allowed him to become an inmate of the hotel, when he had observed, since his residence there, admission refused to so many. He asked himself, too, how it was that Manicamp, who, in his opinion, must be a man to be looked upon with veneration by everybody, having wished to bait his horse at the Beau Paon, on arriving there, both horse and rider had been incontinently turned away with a nescio vos of the most positive character. All this for Malicorne, whose mind being fully occupied by his own love affair and personal ambition, was a problem he had not applied himself to solve. Had he wished to do so, we should hardly venture, notwithstanding the intelligence we have accorded as his due, to say he would have succeeded. A few words will prove to the reader that no one but Oedipus in person could have solved the enigma in question. During the week, seven travelers had taken up their abode in the inn, all of them having arrived there the day after the fortunate day on which Malicorne had fixed his choice on the Beau Paon. These seven persons, accompanied by a suitable retinue, were the following: -- 
+
+First of all, a brigadier in the German army, his secretary, physician, three servants, and seven horses. The brigadier’s name was the Comte de Wostpur. -- A Spanish cardinal, with two nephews, two secretaries, an officer of his household, and twelve horses. The cardinal’s name was Monseigneur Herrebia. -- A rich merchant of Bremen, with his man-servant and two horses. This merchant’s name was Meinheer Bonstett. -- A Venetian senator with his wife and daughter, both extremely beautiful. The senator’s name was Signor Marini. -- A Scottish laird, with seven highlanders of his clan, all on foot. The laird’s name was MacCumnor. -- An Austrian from Vienna without title or coat of arms, who had arrived in a carriage; a good deal of the priest, and something of the soldier. He was called the Councilor. -- And, finally, a Flemish lady, with a man-servant, a lady’s maid, and a female companion, a large retinue of servants, great display, and immense horses. She was called the Flemish lady.
+
+All these travelers had arrived on the same day, and yet their arrival had occasioned no confusion in the inn, no stoppage in the street; their apartments had been fixed upon beforehand, by their couriers or secretaries, who had arrived the previous evening or that very morning. Malicorne, who had arrived the previous day, riding an ill-conditioned horse, with a slender valise, had announced himself at the hotel of the Beau Paon as the friend of a nobleman desirous of witnessing the fetes, and who would himself arrive almost immediately. The landlord, on hearing these words, had smiled as if he were perfectly well acquainted either with Malicorne or his friend the nobleman, and had said to him, “Since you are the first arrival, monsieur, choose what apartment you please.” And this was said with that obsequiousness of manners, so full of meaning with landlords, which means, “Make yourself perfectly easy, monsieur: we know with whom we have to do, and you will be treated accordingly.” These words, and their accompanying gesture, Malicorne had thought very friendly, but rather obscure. However, as he did not wish to be very extravagant in his expenses, and as he thought that if he were to ask for a small apartment he would doubtless have been refused, on account of his want of consequence, he hastened to close at once with the innkeeper’s remark, and deceive him with a cunning equal to his own. So, smiling as a man would do for whom whatever might be done was but simply his due, he said, “My dear host, I shall take the best and the gayest room in the house.”
+
+“With a stable?”
+
+“Yes, with a stable.”
+
+“And when will you take it?”
+
+“Immediately if it be possible.”
+
+“Quite so.”
+
+“But,” said Malicorne, “I shall leave the large room unoccupied for the present.”
+
+“Very good!” said the landlord, with an air of intelligence.
+
+“Certain reasons, which you will understand by and by, oblige me to take, at my own cost, this small room only.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said the host.
+
+“When my friend arrives, he will occupy the large apartment: and as a matter of course, as this larger apartment will be his own affair, he will settle for it himself.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the landlord, “certainly; let it be understood in that manner.”
+
+“It is agreed, then, that such shall be the terms?”
+
+“Word for word.”
+
+“It is extraordinary,” said Malicorne to himself. “You quite understand, then?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“There is nothing more to be said. Since you understand, -- for you do clearly understand, do you not?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“Very well; and now show me to my room.”
+
+The landlord, cap in hand, preceded Malicorne, who installed himself in his room, and became more and more surprised to observe that the landlord, at every ascent or descent, looked and winked at him in a manner which indicated the best possible intelligence between them.
+
+“There is some mistake here,” said Malicorne to himself; “but until it is cleared up, I shall take advantage of it, which is the best thing I can possibly do.” And he darted out of his room, like a hunting-dog following a scent, in search of all the news and curiosities of the court, getting himself burnt in one place and drowned in another, as he had told Mademoiselle de Montalais. The day after he had been installed in his room, he had noticed the seven travelers arrive successively, who speedily filled the whole hotel. When he saw this perfect multitude of people, of carriages, and retinue, Malicorne rubbed his hands delightedly, thinking that, one day later, he should not have found a bed to lie upon after his return from his exploring expeditions. When all the travelers were lodged, the landlord entered Malicorne’s room, and with his accustomed courteousness, said to him, “You are aware, my dear monsieur, that the large room in the third detached building is still reserved for you?”
+
+“Of course I am aware of it.”
+
+“I am really making you a present of it.”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+“So that when your friend comes -- ”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“He will be satisfied with me, I hope: or, if he be not, he will be very difficult to please.”
+
+“Excuse me, but will you allow me to say a few words about my friend?”
+
+“Of course, for you have a perfect right to do so.”
+
+“He intended to come, as you know.”
+
+“And he does so still.”
+
+“He may possibly have changed his opinion.”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You are quite sure, then?”
+
+“Quite sure.”
+
+“But in case you should have some doubt.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“I can only say that I do not positively assure you that he will come.”
+
+“Yet he told you -- ”
+
+“He certainly did tell me; but you know that man proposes and God disposes, -- verba volant, scripta manent.”
+
+“Which is as much to say -- ”
+
+“That what is spoken flies away, and what is written remains; and, as he did not write to me, but contented himself by saying to me, ‘I will authorize you, yet without specifically instructing you,’ you must feel that it places me in a very embarrassing position.”
+
+“What do you authorize me to do, then?”
+
+“Why, to let your rooms if you find a good tenant for them.”
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you.”
+
+“Never will I do such a thing, monsieur. If he has not written to you, he has written to me.”
+
+“Ah! what does he say? Let us see if his letter agrees with his words.”
+
+“These are almost his very words. ‘To the landlord of the Beau Paon Hotel, -- You will have been informed of the meeting arranged to take place in your inn between some people of importance; I shall be one of those who will meet with the others at Fontainebleau. Keep for me, then, a small room for a friend who will arrive either before or after me -- ’ and you are the friend, I suppose,” said the landlord, interrupting his reading of the letter. Malicorne bowed modestly. The landlord continued:
+
+“‘And a large apartment for myself. The large apartment is my own affair, but I wish the price of the smaller room to be moderate, as it is destined for a fellow who is deucedly poor.’ It is still you he is speaking of, is he not?” said the host.
+
+“Oh, certainly,” said Malicorne.
+
+“Then we are agreed; your friend will settle for his apartment, and you for your own.”
+
+“May I be broken alive on the wheel,” said Malicorne to himself, “if I understand anything at all about it,” and then he said aloud, “Well, then, are you satisfied with the name?”
+
+“With what name?”
+
+“With the name at the end of the letter. Does it give you the guarantee you require?”
+
+“I was going to ask you the name.”
+
+“What! was the letter not signed?”
+
+“No,” said the landlord, opening his eyes very wide, full of mystery and curiosity.
+
+“In that case,” said Malicorne, imitating his gesture and his mysterious look, “if he has not given you his name, you understand, he must have his reasons for it.”
+
+“Oh, of course.”
+
+“And, therefore, I, his friend, his confidant, must not betray him.”
+
+“You are perfectly right, monsieur,” said the landlord, “and I do not insist upon it.”
+
+“I appreciate your delicacy. As for myself, as my friend told you, my room is a separate affair, so let us come to terms about it. Short accounts make long friends. How much is it?”
+
+“There is no hurry.”
+
+“Never mind, let us reckon it all up all the same. Room, my own board, a place in the stable for my horse, and his feed. How much per day?”
+
+“Four livres, monsieur.”
+
+“Which will make twelve livres for the three days I have been here?”
+
+“Yes, monsieur.”
+
+“Here are your twelve livres, then.”
+
+“But why settle now?”
+
+“Because,” said Malicorne, lowering his voice, and resorting to his former air of mystery, because he saw that the mysterious had succeeded, “because if I had to set off suddenly, to decamp at any moment, my account would be settled.”
+
+“You are right, monsieur.”
+
+“I may consider myself at home, then?”
+
+“Perfectly.”
+
+“So far so well. Adieu!” And the landlord withdrew. Malicorne, left alone, reasoned with himself in the following manner: “No one but De Guiche or Manicamp could have written to this fellow; De Guiche, because he wishes to secure a lodging for himself beyond the precincts of the court, in the event of his success or failure, as the case might be; Manicamp, because De Guiche must have intrusted him with his commission. And De Guiche or Manicamp will have argued in this manner. The large apartment would serve for the reception, in a befitting manner, of a lady thickly veiled, reserving to the lady in question a double means of exit, either in a street somewhat deserted, or closely adjoining the forest. The smaller room might either shelter Manicamp for a time, who is De Guiche’s confidant, and would be the vigilant keeper of the door, or De Guiche himself, acting, for greater safety, the part of a master and confidant at the same time. Yet,” he continued, “how about this meeting which is to take place, and which has actually taken place, in this hotel? No doubt they are persons who are going to be presented to the king. And the ‘poor devil,’ for whom the smaller room is destined, is a trick, in order to better conceal De Guiche or Manicamp. If this be the case, as very likely it is, there is only half the mischief done, for there is simply the length of a purse string between Manicamp and Malicorne.” After he had thus reasoned the matter out, Malicorne slept soundly, leaving the seven travelers to occupy, and in every sense of the word to walk up and down, their several lodgings in the hotel. Whenever there was nothing at court to put him out, when he had wearied himself with his excursions and investigations, tired of writing letters which he could never find an opportunity of delivering to the people they were intended for, he returned home to his comfortable little room, and leaning upon the balcony, which was filled with nasturtiums and white pinks, for whom Fontainebleau seemed to possess no attractions with all its illuminations, amusements, and fetes.
+
+Things went on in this manner until the seventh day, a day of which we have given such full details, with its night also, in the preceding chapters. On that night Malicorne was enjoying the fresh air, seated at his window, toward one o’clock in the morning, when Manicamp appeared on horseback, with a thoughtful and listless air.
+
+“Good!” said Malicorne to himself, recognizing him at the first glance; “there’s my friend, who is come to take possession of his apartment, that is to say, of my room.” And he called to Manicamp, who looked up and immediately recognized Malicorne.
+
+“Ah! by Jove!” said the former, his countenance clearing up, “glad to see you, Malicorne. I have been wandering about Fontainebleau, looking for three things I cannot find: De Guiche, a room, and a stable.”
+
+“Of M. de Guiche I cannot give you either good or bad news, for I have not seen him; but as far as concerns your room and a stable, that’s another matter, for they have been retained here for you.”
+
+“Retained -- and by whom?”
+
+“By yourself, I presume.”
+
+“By me?”
+
+“Do you mean to say you did not take lodgings here?”
+
+“By no means,” said Manicamp.
+
+At this moment the landlord appeared on the threshold of the door.
+
+“I want a room,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Did you engage one, monsieur?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Then I have no rooms to let.”
+
+“In that case, I have engaged a room,” said Manicamp.
+
+“A room simply, or lodgings?”
+
+“Anything you please.”
+
+“By letter?” inquired the landlord.
+
+Malicorne nodded affirmatively to Manicamp.
+
+“Of course by letter,” said Manicamp. “Did you not receive a letter from me?”
+
+“What was the date of the letter?” inquired the host, in whom Manicamp’s hesitation had aroused some suspicion.
+
+Manicamp rubbed his ear, and looked up at Malicorne’s window; but Malicorne had left his window and was coming down the stairs to his friend’s assistance. At the very same moment, a traveler, wrapped in a large Spanish cloak, appeared at the porch, near enough to hear the conversation.
+
+“I ask you what was the date of the letter you wrote to me to retain apartments here?” repeated the landlord, pressing the question.
+
+“Last Wednesday was the date,” said the mysterious stranger, in a soft and polished tone of voice, touching the landlord on the shoulder.
+
+Manicamp drew back, and it was now Malicorne’s turn, who appeared on the threshold, to scratch his ear. The landlord saluted the new arrival as a man who recognizes his true guest.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said to him, with civility, “your apartment is ready for you, and the stables too, only -- ” He looked round him and inquired, “Your horses?”
+
+“My horses may or may not arrive. That, however, matters but little to you, provided you are paid for what has been engaged.” The landlord bowed lower still.
+
+“You have,” continued the unknown traveler, “kept for me in addition, the small room I asked for?”
+
+“Oh!” said Malicorne, endeavoring to hide himself.
+
+“Your friend has occupied it during the last week,” said the landlord, pointing to Malicorne, who was trying to make himself as small as possible. The traveler, drawing his cloak round him so as to cover the lower part of his face, cast a rapid glance at Malicorne, and said, “This gentleman is no friend of mine.”
+
+The landlord started violently.
+
+“I am not acquainted with this gentleman,” continued the traveler.
+
+“What!” exclaimed the host, turning to Malicorne, “are you not this gentleman’s friend, then?”
+
+“What does it matter whether I am or not, provided you are paid?” said Malicorne, parodying the stranger’s remark in a very majestic manner.
+
+“It matters so far as this,” said the landlord, who began to perceive that one person had been taken for another, “that I beg you, monsieur, to leave the rooms, which had been engaged beforehand, and by some one else instead of you.”
+
+“Still,” said Malicorne, “this gentleman cannot require at the same time a room on the first floor and an apartment on the second. If this gentleman will take the room, I will take the apartment: if he prefers the apartment, I will be satisfied with the room.”
+
+“I am exceedingly distressed, monsieur,” said the traveler in his soft voice, “but I need both the room and the apartment.”
+
+“At least, tell me for whom?” inquired Malicorne.
+
+“The apartment I require for myself.”
+
+“Very well; but the room?”
+
+“Look,” said the traveler, pointing towards a sort of procession which was approaching.
+
+Malicorne looked in the direction indicated, and observed borne upon a litter, the arrival of the Franciscan, whose installation in his apartment he had, with a few details of his own, related to Montalais, and whom he had so uselessly endeavored to convert to humbler views. The result of the arrival of the stranger, and of the sick Franciscan, was Malicorne’s expulsion, without any consideration for his feelings, from the inn, by the landlord and the peasants who had carried the Franciscan. The details have already been given of what followed this expulsion; of Manicamp’s conversation with Montalais; how Manicamp, with greater cleverness than Malicorne had shown, had succeeded in obtaining news of De Guiche, of the subsequent conversation of Montalais with Malicorne, and, finally, of the billets with which the Comte de Saint-Aignan had furnished Manicamp and Malicorne. It remains for us to inform our readers who was the traveler in the cloak -- the principal tenant of the double apartment, of which Malicorne had only occupied a portion -- and the Franciscan, quite as mysterious a personage, whose arrival, together with that of the stranger, unfortunately upset the two friends’ plans.
+
+Chapter LII. A Jesuit of the Eleventh Year.
+
+In the first place, in order not to weary the reader’s patience, we will hasten to answer the first question. The traveler with the cloak held over his face was Aramis, who, after he had left Fouquet, and taken from a portmanteau, which his servant had opened, a cavalier’s complete costume, quitted the chateau, and went to the hotel of the Beau Paon, where, by letters, seven or eight days previously, he had, as the landlord had stated, directed a room and an apartment to be retained for him. Immediately after Malicorne and Manicamp had been turned out, Aramis approached the Franciscan, and asked him whether he would prefer the apartment or the room. The Franciscan inquired where they were both situated. He was told that the room was on the first, and the apartment on the second floor.
+
+“The room, then,” he said.
+
+Aramis did not contradict him, but, with great submissiveness, said to the landlord: “The room.” And bowing with respect he withdrew into the apartment, and the Franciscan was accordingly carried at once into the room. Now, is it not extraordinary that this respect should be shown by a prelate of the Church for a simple monk, for one, too, belonging to a mendicant order; to whom was given up, without a request for it even, a room which so many travelers were desirous of obtaining? How, too, can one explain the unexpected arrival of Aramis at the hotel -- he who had entered the chateau with M. Fouquet, and could have remained at the chateau with M. Fouquet if he had liked? The Franciscan supported his removal up the staircase without uttering a complaint, although it was evident he suffered very much, and that every time the litter knocked against the wall or the railing of the staircase, he experienced a terrible shock throughout his frame. And finally, when he had arrived in the room, he said to those who carried him: “Help me to place myself in that armchair.” The bearers of the litter placed it on the ground, and lifting the sick man up as gently as possible, carried him to the chair he had indicated, which was situated at the head of the bed. “Now,” he added, with a marked benignity of gesture and tone, “desire the landlord to come.”
+
+They obeyed, and five minutes afterwards the landlord appeared at the door.
+
+“Be kind enough,” said the Franciscan to him, “to send these excellent fellows away; they are vassals of the Vicomte de Melun. They found me when I had fainted on the road overcome by the heat, and without thinking of whether they would be paid for their trouble, they wished to carry me to their own home. But I know at what cost to themselves is the hospitality which the poor extend to a sick monk, and I preferred this hotel, where, moreover, I was expected.”
+
+The landlord looked at the Franciscan in amazement, but the latter, with his thumb, made the sign of the cross in a peculiar manner upon his breast. The host replied by making a similar sign on his left shoulder. “Yes, indeed,” he said, “we did expect you, but we hoped that you would arrive in a better state of health.” And as the peasants were looking at the innkeeper, usually so supercilious, and saw how respectful he had become in the presence of a poor monk, the Franciscan drew from a deep pocket three or four pieces of gold which he held out.
+
+“My friends,” said he, “here is something to repay you for the care you have taken of me. So make yourselves perfectly easy, and do not be afraid of leaving me here. The order to which I belong, and for which I am traveling, does not require me to beg; only, as the attention you have shown me deserves to be rewarded, take these two louis and depart in peace.”
+
+The peasants did not dare to take them; the landlord took the two louis out of the monk’s hand and placed them in that of one of the peasants, all four of whom withdrew, opening their eyes wider than ever. The door was then closed; and, while the innkeeper stood respectfully near it, the Franciscan collected himself for a moment. He then passed across his sallow face a hand which seemed dried up by fever, and rubbed his nervous and agitated fingers across his beard. His large eyes, hollowed by sickness and inquietude, seemed to peruse in the vague distance a mournful and fixed idea.
+
+“What physicians have you at Fontainebleau?” he inquired, after a long pause.
+
+“We have three, holy father.”
+
+“What are their names?”
+
+“Luiniguet first.”
+
+“The next one?”
+
+“A brother of the Carmelite order, named Brother Hubert.”
+
+“The next?”
+
+“A secular member, named Grisart.”
+
+“Ah! Grisart?” murmured the monk, “send for M. Grisart immediately.”
+
+The landlord moved in prompt obedience to the direction.
+
+“Tell me what priests are there here?”
+
+“What priests?”
+
+“Yes; belonging to what orders?”
+
+“There are Jesuits, Augustines, and Cordeliers; but the Jesuits are the closest at hand. Shall I send for a confessor belonging to the order of Jesuits?”
+
+“Yes, immediately.”
+
+It will be imagined that, at the sign of the cross which they had exchanged, the landlord and the invalid monk had recognized each other as two affiliated members of the well-known Society of Jesus. Left to himself, the Franciscan drew from his pocket a bundle of papers, some of which he read over with the most careful attention. The violence of his disorder, however, overcame his courage; his eyes rolled in their sockets, a cold sweat poured down his face, and he nearly fainted, and lay with his head thrown backwards and his arms hanging down on both sides of his chair. For more than five minutes he remained without any movement, when the landlord returned, bringing with him the physician, whom he hardly allowed time to dress himself. The noise they made in entering the room, the current of air, which the opening of the door occasioned, restored the Franciscan to his senses. He hurriedly seized hold of the papers which were lying about, and with his long and bony hand concealed them under the cushions of the chair. The landlord went out of the room, leaving patient and physician together.
+
+“Come here, Monsieur Grisart,” said the Franciscan to the doctor; “approach closer, for there is no time to lose. Try, by touch and sound, and consider and pronounce your sentence.”
+
+“The landlord,” replied the doctor, “told me I had the honor of attending an affiliated brother.”
+
+“Yes,” replied the Franciscan, “it is so. Tell me the truth, then; I feel very ill, and I think I am about to die.”
+
+The physician took the monk’s hand, and felt his pulse. “Oh, oh,” he said, “a dangerous fever.”
+
+“What do you call a dangerous fever?” inquired the Franciscan, with an imperious look.
+
+“To an affiliated member of the first or second year,” replied the physician, looking inquiringly at the monk, “I should say -- a fever that may be cured.”
+
+“But to me?” said the Franciscan. The physician hesitated.
+
+“Look at my grey hair, and my forehead, full of anxious thought,” he continued: “look at the lines in my face, by which I reckon up the trials I have undergone; I am a Jesuit of the eleventh year, Monsieur Grisart.” The physician started, for, in fact, a Jesuit of the eleventh year was one of those men who had been initiated in all the secrets of the order, one of those for whom science has no more secrets, the society no further barriers to present -- temporal obedience, no more trammels.
+
+“In that case,” said Grisart, saluting him with respect, “I am in the presence of a master?”
+
+“Yes; act, therefore, accordingly.”
+
+“And you wish to know?”
+
+“My real state.”
+
+“Well,” said the physician, “it is a brain fever, which has reached its highest degree of intensity.”
+
+“There is no hope, then?” inquired the Franciscan, in a quick tone of voice.
+
+“I do not say that,” replied the doctor; “yet, considering the disordered state of the brain, the hurried respiration, the rapidity of the pulse, and the burning nature of the fever which is devouring you -- ”
+
+“And which has thrice prostrated me since this morning,” said the monk.
+
+“All things considered, I shall call it a terrible attack. But why did you not stop on your road?”
+
+“I was expected here, and I was obliged to come.”
+
+“Even at the risk of your life?”
+
+“Yes, at the risk of dying on the way.”
+
+“Very well. Considering all the symptoms of your case, I must tell you that your condition is almost desperate.”
+
+The Franciscan smiled in a strange manner.
+
+“What you have just told me is, perhaps, sufficient for what is due to an affiliated member, even of the eleventh year; but for what is due to me, Monsieur Grisart, it is too little, and I have a right to demand more. Come, then, let us be more candid still, and as frank as if you were making your own confession to Heaven. Besides, I have already sent for a confessor.”
+
+“Oh! I have hopes, however,” murmured the doctor.
+
+“Answer me,” said the sick man, displaying with a dignified gesture a golden ring, the stone of which had until that moment been turned inside, and which bore engraved thereon the distinguishing mark of the Society of Jesus.
+
+Grisart uttered loud exclamation. “The general!” he cried.
+
+“Silence,” said the Franciscan., “you can now understand that the whole truth is all important.”
+
+“Monseigneur, monseigneur,” murmured Grisart, “send for the confessor, for in two hours, at the next seizure, you will be attacked by delirium, and will pass away in its course.”
+
+“Very well,” said the patient, for a moment contracting his eyebrows, “I have still two hours to live then?”
+
+“Yes; particularly if you take the potion I will send you presently.”
+
+“And that will give me two hours of life?”
+
+“Two hours.”
+
+“I would take it, were it poison, for those two hours are necessary not only for myself, but for the glory of the order.”
+
+“What a loss, what a catastrophe for us all!” murmured the physician.
+
+“It is the loss of one man -- nothing more,” replied the Franciscan, “for Heaven will enable the poor monk, who is about to leave you, to find a worthy successor. Adieu, Monsieur Grisart; already even, through the goodness of Heaven, I have met with you. A physician who had not been one of our holy order, would have left me in ignorance of my condition; and, confident that existence would be prolonged a few days further, I should not have taken the necessary precautions. You are a learned man, Monsieur Grisart, and that confers an honor upon us all; it would have been repugnant to my feelings to have found one of our order of little standing in his profession. Adieu, Monsieur Grisart; send me the cordial immediately.”
+
+“Give me your blessing, at least, monseigneur.”
+
+“In my mind, I do; go, go; in my mind, I do so, I tell you -- animo, Maitre Grisart, viribus impossibile.” And he again fell back on the armchair, in an almost senseless state. M. Grisart hesitated, whether he should give him immediate assistance, or should run to prepare the cordial he had promised. He decided in favor of the cordial, for he darted out of the room and disappeared down the staircase. [6]
+
+Chapter LIII. The State Secret.
+
+A few moments after the doctor’s departure, the confessor arrived. He had hardly crossed the threshold of the door when the Franciscan fixed a penetrating look upon him, and, shaking his head, murmured -- “A weak mind, I see; may Heaven forgive me if I die without the help of this living piece of human infirmity.” The confessor, on his side, regarded the dying man with astonishment, almost with terror. He had never beheld eyes so burningly bright at the very moment they were about to close, nor looks so terrible at the moment they were about to be quenched in death. The Franciscan made a rapid and imperious movement of his hand. “Sit down, there, my father,” he said, “and listen to me.” The Jesuit confessor, a good priest, a recently initiated member of the order, who had merely seen the beginning of its mysteries, yielded to the superiority assumed by the penitent.
+
+“There are several persons staying in this hotel,” continued the Franciscan.
+
+“But,” inquired the Jesuit, “I thought I had been summoned to listen to a confession. Is your remark, then, a confession?”
+
+“Why do you ask?”
+
+“In order to know whether I am to keep your words secret.”
+
+“My remarks are part of my confession; I confide them to you in your character of a confessor.”
+
+“Very well,” said the priest, seating himself on the chair which the Franciscan had, with great difficulty, just left, to lie down on the bed.
+
+The Franciscan continued, -- “I repeat, there are several persons staying in this inn.”
+
+“So I have heard.”
+
+“They ought to be eight in number.”
+
+The Jesuit made a sign that he understood him. “The first to whom I wish to speak,” said the dying man, “is a German from Vienna, whose name is Baron de Wostpur. Be kind enough to go to him, and tell him the person he expected has arrived.” The confessor, astounded, looked at his penitent; the confession seemed a singular one.
+
+“Obey,” said the Franciscan, in a tone of command impossible to resist. The good Jesuit, completely subdued, rose and left the room. As soon as he had gone, the Franciscan again took up the papers which a crisis of the fever had already, once before, obliged him to put aside.
+
+“The Baron de Wostpur? Good!” he said; “ambitious, a fool, and straitened in means.”
+
+He folded up the papers, which he thrust under his pillow. Rapid footsteps were heard at the end of the corridor. The confessor returned, followed by the Baron de Wostpur, who walked along with his head raised, as if he were discussing with himself the possibility of touching the ceiling with the feather in his hat. Therefore, at the appearance of the Franciscan, at his melancholy look, and seeing the plainness of the room, he stopped, and inquired, -- “Who has summoned me?”
+
+“I,” said the Franciscan, who turned towards the confessor, saying, “My good father, leave us for a moment together; when this gentleman leaves, you will return here.” The Jesuit left the room, and, doubtless, availed himself of this momentary exile from the presence of the dying man to ask the host for some explanation about this strange penitent, who treated his confessor no better than he would a man servant. The baron approached the bed, and wished to speak, but the hand of the Franciscan imposed silence upon him.
+
+“Every moment is precious,” said the latter, hurriedly. “You have come here for the competition, have you not?”
+
+“Yes, my father.”
+
+“You hope to be elected general of the order?”
+
+“I hope so.”
+
+“You know on what conditions only you can possibly attain this high position, which makes one man the master of monarchs, the equal of popes?”
+
+“Who are you,” inquired the baron, “to subject me to these interrogations?”
+
+“I am he whom you expected.”
+
+“The elector-general?”
+
+“I am the elected.”
+
+“You are -- ”
+
+The Franciscan did not give him time to reply; he extended his shrunken hand, on which glittered the ring of the general of the order. The baron drew back in surprise; and then, immediately afterwards, bowing with the profoundest respect, he exclaimed, -- “Is it possible that you are here, monseigneur; you, in this wretched room; you, upon this miserable bed; you, in search of and selecting the future general, that is, your own successor?”
+
+“Do not distress yourself about that, monsieur, but fulfil immediately the principal condition, of furnishing the order with a secret of importance, of such importance that one of the greatest courts of Europe will, by your instrumentality, forever be subjected to the order. Well! do you possess the secret which you promised, in your request, addressed to the grand council?”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“Let us proceed, however, in due order,” said the monk. “You are the Baron de Wostpur?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“And this letter is from you?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+The general of the Jesuits drew a paper from his bundle, and presented it to the baron, who glanced at it, and made a sign in the affirmative, saying, “Yes, monseigneur, this letter is mine.”
+
+“Can you show me the reply which the secretary of the grand council returned to you?”
+
+“Here it is,” said the baron, holding towards the Franciscan a letter bearing simply the address, “To his excellency the Baron de Wostpur,” and containing only this phrase, “From the 15th to the 22nd May, Fontainebleau, the hotel of the Beau Paon. -- A. M. D. G.” [7]
+
+“Right,” said the Franciscan, “and now speak.”
+
+“I have a body of troops, composed of 50,000 men; all the officers are gained over. I am encamped on the Danube. In four days I can overthrow the emperor, who is, as you are aware, opposed to the progress of our order, and can replace him by whichever of the princes of his family the order may determine upon.” The Franciscan listened, unmoved.
+
+“Is that all?” he said.
+
+“A revolution throughout Europe is included in my plan,” said the baron.
+
+“Very well, Monsieur de Wostpur, you will receive a reply; return to your room, and leave Fontainebleau within a quarter of an hour.” The baron withdrew backwards, as obsequiously as if he were taking leave of the emperor he was ready to betray.
+
+“There is no secret there,” murmured the Franciscan, “it is a plot. Besides,” he added, after a moment’s reflection, “the future of Europe is no longer in the hands of the House of Austria.”
+
+And with a pencil he held in his hand, he struck the Baron de Wostpur’s name from the list.
+
+“Now for the cardinal,” he said; “we ought to get something more serious from the side of Spain.”
+
+Raising his head, he perceived the confessor, who was awaiting his orders as respectfully as a school-boy.
+
+“Ah, ah!” he said, noticing his submissive air, “you have been talking with the landlord.”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur; and to the physician.”
+
+“To Grisart?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“He is here, then?”
+
+“He is waiting with the potion he promised.”
+
+“Very well; if I require him, I will call; you now understand the great importance of my confession, do you not?”
+
+“Yes, monseigneur.”
+
+“Then go and fetch me the Spanish Cardinal Herrebia. Make haste. Only, as you now understand the matter in hand, you will remain near me, for I begin to feel faint.”
+
+“Shall I summon the physician?”
+
+“Not yet, not yet... the Spanish cardinal, no one else. Fly.”
+
+Five minutes afterwards, the cardinal, pale and disturbed, entered the little room.
+
+“I am informed, monseigneur, -- ” stammered the cardinal.
+
+“To the point,” said the Franciscan, in a faint voice, showing the cardinal a letter which he had written to the grand council. “Is that your handwriting?”
+
+“Yes, but -- ”
+
+“And your summons?”
+
+The cardinal hesitated to answer. His purple revolted against the mean garb of the poor Franciscan, who stretched out his hand and displayed the ring, which produced its effect, greater in proportion to the greatness of the person over whom the Franciscan exercised his influence.
+
+“Quick, the secret, the secret!” said the dying man, leaning upon his confessor.
+
+“Coram isto?” inquired the Spanish cardinal. [8]
+
+“Speak in Spanish,” said the Franciscan, showing the liveliest attention.
+
+“You are aware, monseigneur,” said the cardinal, continuing the conversation in Castilian, “that the condition of the marriage of the Infanta with the king of France was the absolute renunciation of the rights of the said Infanta, as well as of King Louis XIV., to all claim to the crown of Spain.” The Franciscan made a sign in the affirmative.
+
+“The consequence is,” continued the cardinal, “that the peace and alliance between the two kingdoms depend upon the observance of that clause of the contract.” A similar sign from the Franciscan. “Not only France and Spain,” continued the cardinal, “but the whole of Europe even, would be violently rent asunder by the faithlessness of either party.” Another movement of the dying man’s head.
+
+“It further results,” continued the speaker, “that the man who might be able to foresee events, and to render certain that which is no more than a vague idea floating in the mind of man, that is to say, the idea of a future good or evil, would preserve the world from a great catastrophe; and the event, which has no fixed certainty even in the brain of him who originated it, could be turned to the advantage of our order.”
+
+“Pronto, pronto!” murmured the Franciscan, in Spanish, who suddenly became paler, and leaned upon the priest. The cardinal approached the ear of the dying man, and said, “Well, monseigneur, I know that the king of France has determined that, at the very first pretext, a death for instance, either that of the king of Spain, or that of a brother of the Infanta, France will, arms in hand, claim the inheritance, and I have in my possession, already prepared, the plan of policy agreed upon by Louis XIV. for this occasion.”
+
+“And this plan?” said the Franciscan.
+
+“Here it is,” returned the cardinal.
+
+“In whose handwriting is it?”
+
+“My own.”
+
+“Have you anything further to say to me?”
+
+“I think I have said a good deal, my lord,” replied the cardinal.
+
+“Yes, you have rendered the order a great service. But how did you procure the details, by the aid of which you have constructed your plan?”
+
+“I have the under-servants of the king of France in my pay, and I obtain from them all the waste papers, which have been saved from being burnt.”
+
+“Very ingenious,” murmured the Franciscan, endeavoring to smile; “you will leave this hotel, cardinal, in a quarter of an hour, and a reply shall be sent you.” The cardinal withdrew.
+
+“Call Grisart, and desire the Venetian Marini to come,” said the sick man.
+
+While the confessor obeyed, the Franciscan, instead of striking out the cardinal’s name, as he had done the baron’s, made a cross at the side of it. Then, exhausted by the effort, he fell back on his bed, murmuring the name of Dr. Grisart. When he returned to his senses, he had drunk about half of the potion, of which the remainder was left in the glass, and he found himself supported by the physician, while the Venetian and the confessor were standing close to the door. The Venetian submitted to the same formalities as his two predecessors, hesitated as they had done at the sight of the two strangers, but his confidence restored by the order of the general, he revealed that the pope, terrified at the power of the order, was weaving a plot for the general expulsion of the Jesuits, and was tampering with the different courts of Europe in order to obtain their assistance. He described the pontiff’s auxiliaries, his means of action, and indicated the particular locality in the Archipelago where, by a sudden surprise, two cardinals, adepts of the eleventh year, and, consequently, high in authority, were to be transported, together with thirty-two of the principal affiliated members of Rome. The Franciscan thanked the Signor Marini. It was by no means a slight service he had rendered the society by denouncing this pontifical project. The Venetian thereupon received directions to set off in a quarter of an hour, and left as radiant as if he already possessed the ring, the sign of the supreme authority of the society. As, however, he was departing, the Franciscan murmured to himself: “All these men are either spies, or a sort of police, not one of them a general; they have all discovered a plot, but not one of them a secret. It is not by means of ruin, or war, or force, that the Society of Jesus is to be governed, but by that mysterious influence moral superiority alone confers. No, the man is not yet found, and to complete the misfortune, Heaven strikes me down, and I am dying. Oh! must the society indeed fall with me for want of a column to support it? Must death, which is waiting for me, swallow up with me the future of the order; that future which ten years more of my own life would have rendered eternal? for that future, with the reign of the new king, is opening radiant and full of splendor.” These words, which had been half-reflected, half-pronounced aloud, were listened to by the Jesuit confessor with a terror similar to that with which one listens to the wanderings of a person attacked by fever, whilst Grisart, with a mind of higher order, devoured them as the revelations of an unknown world, in which his looks were plunged without ability to comprehend. Suddenly the Franciscan recovered himself.
+
+“Let us finish this,” he said; “death is approaching. Oh! just now I was dying resignedly, for I hoped... while now I sink in despair, unless those who remain... Grisart, Grisart, give me to live a single hour longer.”
+
+Grisart approached the dying monk, and made him swallow a few drops, not of the potion which was still left in the glass, but of the contents of a small bottle he had upon his person.
+
+“Call the Scotchman!” exclaimed the Franciscan; “call the Bremen merchant. Call, call quickly. I am dying. I am suffocated.”
+
+The confessor darted forward to seek assistance, as if there had been any human strength which could hold back the hand of death, which was weighing down the sick man; but, at the threshold of the door, he found Aramis, who, with his finger on his lips, like the statue of Harpocrates, the god of silence, by a look motioned him back to the end of the apartment. The physician and the confessor, after having consulted each other by looks, made a movement as if to push Aramis aside, who, however, with two signs of the cross, each made in a different manner, transfixed them both in their places.
+
+“A chief!” they both murmured.
+
+Aramis slowly advanced into the room where the dying man was struggling against the first attack of the agony which had seized him. As for the Franciscan, whether owing to the effect of the elixir, or whether the appearance of Aramis had restored his strength, he made a movement, and his eyes glaring, his mouth half open, and his hair damp with sweat, sat up upon the bed. Aramis felt that the air of the room was stifling; the windows were closed; the fire was burning upon the hearth; a pair of candles of yellow wax were guttering down in the copper candlesticks, and still further increased, by their thick smoke, the temperature of the room. Aramis opened the window, and fixing upon the dying man a look full of intelligence and respect, said to him: “Monseigneur, pray forgive my coming in this manner, before you summoned me, but your state alarms me, and I thought you might possibly die before you had seen me, for I am but the sixth upon your list.”
+
+The dying man started and looked at the list.
+
+“You are, therefore, he who was formerly called Aramis, and since, the Chevalier d’Herblay? You are the bishop of Vannes?”
+
+“Yes, my lord.”
+
+“I know you, I have seen you.”
+
+“At the last jubilee, we were with the Holy Father together.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I remember; and you place yourself on the list of candidates?”
+
+“Monseigneur, I have heard it said that the order required to become possessed of a great state secret, and knowing that from modesty you had in anticipation resigned your functions in favor of the person who should be the depositary of such a secret, I wrote to say that I was ready to compete, possessing alone a secret I believe to be important.”
+
+“Speak,” said the Franciscan; “I am ready to listen to you, and to judge the importance of the secret.”
+
+“A secret of the value of that which I have the honor to confide to you cannot be communicated by word of mouth. Any idea which, when once expressed, has thereby lost its safeguard, and has become vulgarized by any manifestation or communication of it whatever, no longer is the property of him who gave it birth. My words may be overheard by some listener, or perhaps by an enemy; one ought not, therefore, to speak at random, for, in such a case, the secret would cease to be one.”
+
+“How do you propose, then, to convey your secret?” inquired the dying monk.
+
+With one hand Aramis signed to the physician and the confessor to withdraw, and with the other he handed to the Franciscan a paper enclosed in a double envelope.
+
+“Is not writing more dangerous still than language?”
+
+“No, my lord,” said Aramis, “for you will find within this envelope characters which you and I alone can understand.” The Franciscan looked at Aramis with an astonishment which momentarily increased.
+
+“It is a cipher,” continued the latter, “which you used in 1655, and which your secretary, Juan Jujan, who is dead, could alone decipher, if he were restored to life.”
+
+“You knew this cipher, then?”
+
+“It was I who taught it him,” said Aramis, bowing with a gracefulness full of respect, and advancing towards the door as if to leave the room: but a gesture of the Franciscan accompanied by a cry for him to remain, restrained him.
+
+“Ecce homo!” he exclaimed; then reading the paper a second time, he called out, “Approach, approach quickly!”
+
+Aramis returned to the side of the Franciscan, with the same calm countenance and the same respectful manner, unchanged. The Franciscan, extending his arm, burnt by the flame of the candle the paper which Aramis had handed him. Then, taking hold of Aramis’s hand, he drew him towards him, and inquired: “In what manner and by whose means could you possibly become acquainted with such a secret?”
+
+“Through Madame de Chevreuse, the intimate friend and confidante of the queen.”
+
+“And Madame de Chevreuse -- ”
+
+“Is dead.”
+
+“Did any others know it?”
+
+“A man and a woman only, and they of the lower classes.”
+
+“Who are they?”
+
+“Persons who had brought him up.”
+
+“What has become of them?”
+
+“Dead also. This secret burns like vitriol.”
+
+“But you survive?”
+
+“No one is aware that I know it.”
+
+“And for what length of time have you possessed this secret?”
+
+“For the last fifteen years.”
+
+“And you have kept it?”
+
+“I wished to live.”
+
+“And you give it to the order without ambition, without acknowledgement?”
+
+“I give it to the order with ambition and with a hope of return,” said Aramis; “for if you live, my lord, you will make of me, now you know me, what I can and ought to be.”
+
+“And as I am dying,” exclaimed the Franciscan, “I constitute you my successor... Thus.” And drawing off the ring, he passed it on Aramis’s finger. Then, turning towards the two spectators of this scene, he said: “Be ye witnesses of this, and testify, if need be, that, sick in body, but sound in mind, I have freely and voluntarily bestowed this ring, the token of supreme authority, upon Monseigneur d’Herblay, bishop of Vannes, whom I nominate my successor, and before whom I, an humble sinner, about to appear before Heaven, prostrate myself, as an example for all to follow.” And the Franciscan bowed lowly and submissively, whilst the physician and the Jesuit fell on their knees. Aramis, even while he became paler than the dying man himself, bent his looks successively upon all the actors of this scene. Profoundly gratified ambition flowed with life-blood towards his heart.
+
+“We must lose no time,” said the Franciscan; “what I had still to do on earth was urgent. I shall never succeed in carrying it out.”
+
+“I will do it,” said Aramis.
+
+“It is well,” said the Franciscan, and then turning towards the Jesuit and the doctor, he added, “Leave us alone,” a direction they instantly obeyed.
+
+“With this sign,” he said, “you are the man needed to shake the world from one end to the other; with this sign you will overthrow; with this sign you will edify; in hoc signo vinces!” [9]
+
+“Close the door,” continued the Franciscan after a pause. Aramis shut and bolted the door, and returned to the side of the Franciscan.
+
+“The pope is conspiring against the order,” said the monk; “the pope must die.”
+
+“He shall die,” said Aramis, quietly.
+
+“Seven hundred thousand livres are owing to a Bremen merchant of the name of Bonstett, who came here to get the guarantee of my signature.”
+
+“He shall be paid,” said Aramis.
+
+“Six knights of Malta, whose names are written here, have discovered, by the indiscretion of one of the affiliated of the eleventh year, the three mysteries; it must be ascertained what else these men have done with the secret, to get it back again and bury it.”
+
+“It shall be done.”
+
+“Three dangerous affiliated members must be sent away into Tibet, there to perish; they stand condemned. Here are their names.”
+
+“I will see that the sentence be carried out.”
+
+“Lastly, there is a lady at Anvers, grand-niece of Ravaillac; she holds certain papers in her hands that compromise the order. There has been payable to the family during the last fifty-one years a pension of fifty thousand livres. The pension is a heavy one, and the order is not wealthy. Redeem the papers, for a sum of money paid down, or, in case of refusal, stop the pension -- but run no risk.”
+
+“I will quickly decide what is best to be done,” said Aramis.
+
+“A vessel chartered from Lima entered the port of Lisbon last week; ostensibly it is laden with chocolate, in reality with gold. Every ingot is concealed by a coating of chocolate. The vessel belongs to the order; it is worth seventeen millions of livres; you will see that it is claimed; here are the bills of landing.”
+
+“To what port shall I direct it to be taken?”
+
+“To Bayonne.”
+
+“Before three weeks are over it shall be there, wind and weather permitting. Is that all?” The Franciscan made a sign in the affirmative, for he could no longer speak; the blood rushed to his throat and his head, and gushed from his mouth, his nostrils, and his eyes. The dying man had barely time to press Aramis’s hand, when he fell in convulsions from his bed upon the floor. Aramis placed his hand upon the Franciscan’s heart, but it had ceased to beat. As he stooped down, Aramis observed that a fragment of the paper he had given the Franciscan had escaped being burnt. He picked it up, and burnt it to the last atom. Then, summoning the confessor and the physician, he said to the former: “Your penitent is in heaven; he needs nothing more than prayers and the burial bestowed upon the pious dead. Go and prepare what is necessary for a simple interment, such as a poor monk only would require. Go.”
+
+The Jesuit left the room. Then, turning towards the physician, and observing his pale and anxious face, he said, in a low tone of voice: “Monsieur Grisart, empty and clean this glass; there is too much left in it of what the grand council desired you to put in.”
+
+Grisart, amazed, overcome, completely astounded, almost fell backwards in his extreme terror. Aramis shrugged his shoulders in sign of pity, took the glass, and poured out the contents among the ashes of the hearth. He then left the room, carrying the papers of the dead man with him.
+
+Chapter LIV. A Mission.
+
+The next day, or rather the same day (for the events we have just described were concluded only at three o’clock in the morning), before breakfast was served, and as the king was preparing to go to mass with the two queens; as Monsieur, with the Chevalier de Lorraine, and a few other intimate companions, was mounting his horse to set off for the river, to take one of those celebrated baths with which the ladies of the court were so infatuated, as, in fact, no one remained in the chateau, with the exception of Madame who, under the pretext of indisposition, would not leave her room; Montalais was seen, or rather not was not seen, to glide stealthily out of the room appropriated to the maids of honor, leading La Valliere after her, who tried to conceal herself as much as possible, and both of them, hurrying secretly through the gardens, succeeded, looking round them at every step they took, in reaching the thicket. The weather was cloudy, a warm breeze bowed the flowers and the shrubs, the burning dust, swept along in clouds by the wind, was whirled in eddies towards the trees. Montalais, who, during their progress, had discharged the functions of a clever scout, advanced a few steps further, and turning round again, to be quite sure that no one was either listening or approaching, said to her companion, “Thank goodness, we are quite alone! Since yesterday every one spies on us here, and a circle seems to be drawn round us, as if we were plague-stricken.” La Valliere bent down her head and sighed. “It is positively unheard of,” continued Montalais; “from M. Malicorne to M. de Saint-Aignan, every one wishes to get hold of our secret. Come, Louise, let us take counsel, you and I, together, in order that I may know what to do.”
+
+La Valliere lifted towards her companion her beautiful eyes, pure and deep as the azure of a spring sky, “And I,” she said, “will ask you why we have been summoned to Madame’s own room? Why have we slept close to her apartment, instead of sleeping as usual in our own? Why did you return so late, and whence are these measures of strict supervision which have been adopted since this morning, with respect to us both?”
+
+“My dear Louise, you answer my question by another, or rather, by ten others, which is not answering me at all. I will tell you all you want to know later, and as it is of secondary importance, you can wait. What I ask you -- for everything will depend upon that -- is, whether there is or is not any secret?”
+
+“I do not know if there is any secret,” said La Valliere; “but I do know, for my part at least, that there has been great imprudence committed. Since the foolish remark I made, and my still more silly fainting yesterday, every one here is making remarks about us.”
+
+“Speak for yourself,” said Montalais, laughing, “speak for yourself and for Tonnay-Charente; for both of you made your declarations of love to the skies, which unfortunately were intercepted.”
+
+La Valliere hung down her head. “Really you overwhelm me,” she said.
+
+“I?”
+
+“Yes, you torture me with your jests.”
+
+“Listen to me, Louise. These are no jests, for nothing is more serious; on the contrary, I did not drag you out of the chateau; I did not miss attending mass; I did not pretend to have a cold, as Madame did, which she has no more than I have; and, lastly, I did not display ten times more diplomacy than M. Colbert inherited from M. de Mazarin, and makes use of with respect to M. Fouquet, in order to find means of confiding my perplexities to you, for the sole end and purpose that, when at last we were alone, with no one to listen to us, you should deal hypocritically with me. No, no; believe me, that when I ask you a question, it is not from curiosity alone, but really because the position is a critical one. What you said yesterday is now known, -- it is a text on which every one is discoursing. Every one embellishes it to the utmost, and according to his own fancy; you had the honor last night, and you have it still to-day, of occupying the whole court, my dear Louise; and the number of tender and witty remarks which have been ascribed to you, would make Mademoiselle de Scudery and her brother burst from very spite, if they were faithfully reported.”
+
+“But, dearest Montalais,” said the poor girl, “you know better than any one exactly what I said, since you were present when I said it.”
+
+“Yes, I know. But that is not the question. I have not forgotten a single syllable you uttered, but did you think what you were saying?”
+
+Louise became confused. “What,” she exclaimed, “more questions still! Oh, heavens! when I would give the world to forget what I did say, how does it happen that every one does all he possibly can to remind me of it? Oh, this is indeed terrible!”
+
+“What is?”
+
+“To have a friend who ought to spare me, who might advise me and help me to save myself, and yet who is undoing me -- is killing me.”
+
+“There, there, that will do,” said Montalais; “after having said too little, you now say too much. No one thinks of killing you, nor even of robbing you, even of your secret; I wish to have it voluntarily, and in no other way; for the question does not concern your own affairs only, but ours also; and Tonnay-Charente would tell you as I do, if she were here. For, the fact is, that last evening she wished to have some private conversation in our room, and I was going there after the Manicamp and Malicorne colloquies terminated, when I learned, on my return, rather late, it is true, that Madame had sequestered her maids of honor, and that we were to sleep in her apartments, instead of our own. Moreover, Madame has shut up her maids of honor in order that they should not have the time to concert any measures together, and this morning she was closeted with Tonnay-Charente with the same object. Tell me, then, to what extent Athenais and I can rely upon you, as we will tell you in what way you can rely upon us?”
+
+“I do not clearly understand the question you have put,” said Louise, much agitated.
+
+“Hum! and yet, on the contrary, you seem to understand me very well. However, I will put my questions in a more precise manner, in order that you may not be able, in the slightest degree, to evade them. Listen to me: Do you love M. de Bragelonne? That is plain enough, is it not?”
+
+At this question, which fell like the first bombshell of a besieging army into a doomed town, Louise started. “You ask me,” she exclaimed, “if I love Raoul, the friend of my childhood, -- my brother almost?”
+
+“No, no, no! Again you evade me, or rather, you wish to escape me. I do not ask if you love Raoul, your childhood’s friend, -- your brother; but I ask if you love the Vicomte de Bragelonne, your affianced husband?”
+
+“Good heavens! dear Montalais,” said Louise, “how severe your tone is!”
+
+“You deserve no indulgence, -- I am neither more nor less severe than usual. I put a question to you, so answer it.”
+
+“You certainly do not,” said Louise, in a choking voice, “speak to me like a friend; but I will answer you as a true friend.”
+
+“Well, do so.”
+
+“Very well; my heart is full of scruples and silly feelings of pride, with respect to everything that a woman ought to keep secret, and in this respect no one has ever read into the bottom of my soul.”
+
+“That I know very well. If I had read it, I should not interrogate you as I have done; I should simply say, -- ‘My good Louise, you have the happiness of an acquaintance with M. de Bragelonne, who is an excellent young man, and an advantageous match for a girl without fortune. M. de la Fere will leave something like fifteen thousand livres a year to his son. At a future day, then, you, as this son’s wife, will have fifteen thousand livres a year; which is not bad. Turn, then, neither to the right hand nor to the left, but go frankly to M. de Bragelonne; that is to say, to the altar to which he will lead you. Afterwards, why -- afterwards, according to his disposition, you will be emancipated or enslaved; in other words, you will have a right to commit any piece of folly people commit who have either too much liberty or too little.’ That is, my dear Louise, what I should have told you at first, if I had been able to read your heart.”
+
+“And I should have thanked you,” stammered out Louise, “although the advice does not appear to me to be altogether sound.”
+
+“Wait, wait. But immediately after having given you that advice, I should have added, -- ‘Louise, it is very dangerous to pass whole days with your head drooping, your hands unoccupied, your eyes restless and full of thought; it is dangerous to prefer the least frequented paths, and no longer be amused with such diversions as gladden young girls’ hearts; it is dangerous, Louise, to scrawl with the point of your foot, as you do, upon the gravel, certain letters it is useless for you to efface, but which appear again under your heel, particularly when those letters rather resemble the letter L than the letter B; and, lastly, it is dangerous to allow the mind to dwell on a thousand wild fancies, the fruits of solitude and heartache; these fancies, while they sink into a young girl’s mind, make her cheeks sink in also, so that it is not unusual, on such occasions, to find the most delightful persons in the world become the most disagreeable, and the wittiest to become the dullest.’”
+
+“I thank you, dearest Aure,” replied La Valliere, gently; “it is like you to speak to me in this manner, and I thank you for it.”
+
+“It was only for the benefit of wild dreamers, such as I have just described, that I spoke; do not take any of my words, then, to yourself, except such as you think you deserve. Stay, I hardly know what story recurs to my memory of some silly or melancholy girl, who was gradually pining away because she fancied that the prince, or the king, or the emperor, whoever it was -- and it does not matter much which -- had fallen in love with her; while on the contrary, the prince, or the king, or the emperor, whichever you please, was plainly in love with some one else, and -- a singular circumstance, one, indeed, which she could not perceive, although every one around and about her perceived it clearly enough -- made use of her as a screen for his own love affair. You laugh as I do, at this poor silly girl, do you not, Louise?”
+
+“I? -- oh! of course,” stammered Louise, pale as death.
+
+“And you are right, too, for the thing is amusing enough. The story, whether true or false, amused me, and so I remembered it and told it to you. Just imagine then, my good Louise, the mischief that such a melancholy would create in anybody’s brain, -- a melancholy, I mean, of that kind. For my own part, I resolved to tell you the story; for if such a thing were to happen to either of us, it would be most essential to be assured of its truth; to-day it is a snare, to-morrow it would become a jest and mockery, the next day it would mean death itself.” La Valliere started again, and became, if possible, still paler.
+
+“Whenever a king takes notice of us,” continued Montalais, “he lets us see it easily enough, and, if we happen to be the object he covets, he knows very well how to gain his object. You see, then, Louise, that, in such circumstances, between young girls exposed to such a danger as the one in question, the most perfect confidence should exist, in order that those hearts which are not disposed towards melancholy may watch over those likely to become so.”
+
+“Silence, silence!” said La Valliere; “some one approaches.”
+
+“Some one is approaching fast, in fact,” said Montalais; “but who can it possibly be? Everybody is away, either at mass with the king, or bathing with Monsieur.”
+
+At the end of the walk the young girls perceived almost immediately, beneath the arching trees, the graceful carriage and noble stature of a young man, who, with his sword under his arm and a cloak thrown across his shoulders, booted and spurred besides, saluted them from the distance with a gentle smile. “Raoul!” exclaimed Montalais.
+
+“M. de Bragelonne!” murmured Louise.
+
+“A very proper judge to decide upon our difference of opinion,” said Montalais.
+
+“Oh! Montalais, Montalais, for pity’s sake,” exclaimed La Valliere, “after having been so cruel, show me a little mercy.” These words, uttered with all the fervor of a prayer, effaced all trace of irony, if not from Montalais’s heart, at least from her face.
+
+“Why, you are as handsome as Amadis, Monsieur de Bragelonne,” she cried to Raoul, “and armed and booted like him.”
+
+“A thousand compliments, young ladies,” replied Raoul, bowing.
+
+“But why, I ask, are you booted in this manner?” repeated Montalais, whilst La Valliere, although she looked at Raoul with a surprise equal to that of her companion, nevertheless uttered not a word.
+
+“Why?” inquired Raoul.
+
+“Yes!” ventured Louise.
+
+“Because I am about to set off,” said Bragelonne, looking at Louise.
+
+The young girl seemed as though smitten by some superstitious feeling of terror, and tottered. “You are going away, Raoul!” she cried; “and where are you going?”
+
+“Dearest Louise,” he replied, with that quiet, composed manner which was natural to him, “I am going to England.”
+
+“What are you going to do in England?”
+
+“The king has sent me there.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Louise and Aure together, involuntarily exchanging glances, the conversation which had just been interrupted recurring to them both. Raoul intercepted the glance, but could not understand its meaning, and, naturally enough, attributed it to the interest both the young girls took in him.
+
+“His majesty,” he said, “has been good enough to remember that the Comte de la Fere is high in favor with King Charles II. This morning, as he was on his way to attend mass, the king, seeing me as he passed, signed to me to approach, which I accordingly did. ‘Monsieur de Bragelonne,’ he said to me, ‘you will call upon M. Fouquet, who has received from me letters for the king of Great Britain; you will be the bearer of them.’ I bowed. ‘Ah!’ his majesty added, ‘before you leave, you will be good enough to take any commissions which Madame may have for the king her brother.’”
+
+“Gracious heaven!” murmured Louise, much agitated, and yet full of thought at the same time.
+
+“So quickly! You are desired to set off in such haste!” said Montalais, almost paralyzed by this unforeseen event.
+
+“Properly to obey those whom we respect,” said Raoul, “it is necessary to obey quickly. Within ten minutes after I had received the order, I was ready. Madame, already informed, is writing the letter which she is good enough to do me the honor of intrusting to me. In the meantime, learning from Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente that it was likely you would be in this direction, I came here, and am happy to find you both.”
+
+“And both of us very sad, as you see,” said Montalais, going to Louise’s assistance, whose countenance was visibly altered.
+
+“Suffering?” responded Raoul, pressing Louise’s hand with a tender curiosity. “Your hand is like ice.”
+
+“It is nothing.”
+
+“This coldness does not reach your heart, Louise, does it?” inquired the young man, with a tender smile. Louise raised her head hastily, as if the question had been inspired by some suspicion, and had aroused a feeling of remorse.
+
+“Oh! you know,” she said, with an effort, “that my heart will never be cold towards a friend like yourself, Monsieur de Bragelonne.”
+
+“Thank you, Louise. I know both your heart and your mind; it is not by the touch of the hand that one can judge of an affection like yours. You know, Louise, how devotedly I love you, with what perfect and unreserved confidence I reserve my life for you; will you not forgive me, then, for speaking to you with something like the frankness of a child?”
+
+“Speak, Monsieur Raoul,” said Louise, trembling painfully, “I am listening.”
+
+“I cannot part from you, carrying away with me a thought that tortures me; absurd I know it to be, and yet one which rends my very heart.”
+
+“Are you going away, then, for any length of time?” inquired La Valliere, with faltering utterance, while Montalais turned her head aside.
+
+“No; probably I shall not be absent more than a fortnight.” La Valliere pressed her hand upon her heart, which felt as though it were breaking.
+
+“It is strange,” pursued Raoul, looking at the young girl with a melancholy expression; “I have often left you when setting off on adventures fraught with danger. Then I started joyously enough -- my heart free, my mind intoxicated by thoughts of happiness in store for me, hopes of which the future was full; and yet I was about to face the Spanish cannon, or the halberds of the Walloons. To-day, without the existence of any danger or uneasiness, and by the sunniest path in the world, I am going in search of a glorious recompense, which this mark of the king’s favor seems to indicate, for I am, perhaps, going to win you, Louise. What other favor, more precious than yourself, could the king confer upon me? Yet, Louise, in very truth I know not how or why, but this happiness and this future seem to vanish before my very eyes like mist -- like an idle dream; and I feel here, here at the very bottom of my heart, a deep-seated grief, a dejection I cannot overcome -- something heavy, passionless, death-like, -- resembling a corpse. Oh! Louise, too well do I know why; it is because I have never loved you so truly as now. God help me!”
+
+At this last exclamation, which issued as it were from a broken heart, Louise burst into tears, and threw herself into Montalais’s arms. The latter, although she was not easily moved, felt the tears rush to her eyes. Raoul noted only the tears Louise shed; his look, however, did not penetrate -- nay, sought not to penetrate -- beyond those tears. He bent his knee before her, and tenderly kissed her hand; and it was evident that in that kiss he poured out his whole heart.
+
+“Rise, rise,” said Montalais to him, ready to cry, “for Athenais is coming.”
+
+Raoul rose, brushed his knee with the back of his hand, smiled again upon Louise, whose eyes were fixed on the ground, and, having pressed Montalais’s hand gratefully, he turned round to salute Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, the sound of whose silken robe was already heard upon the gravel walk. “Has Madame finished her letter?” he inquired, when the young girl came within reach of his voice.
+
+“Yes, the letter is finished, sealed, and her royal highness is ready to receive you.”
+
+Raoul, at this remark, hardly gave himself time to salute Athenais, cast one look at Louise, bowed to Montalais, and withdrew in the direction of the chateau. As he withdrew he again turned round, but at last, at the end of the grand walk, it was useless to do so again, as he could no longer see them. The three young girls, on their side, had, with widely different feelings, watched him disappear.
+
+“At last,” said Athenais, the first to interrupt the silence, “at last we are alone, free to talk of yesterday’s great affair, and to come to an understanding upon the conduct it is advisable for us to pursue. Besides, if you will listen to me,” she continued, looking round on all sides, “I will explain to you, as briefly as possible, in the first place, our own duty, such as I imagine it to be, and, if you do not understand a hint, what is Madame’s desire on the subject.” And Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente pronounced these words in such a tone as to leave no doubt, in her companion’s minds, upon the official character with which she was invested.
+
+“Madame’s desire!” exclaimed Montalais and La Valliere together.
+
+“Her ultimatum,” replied Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, diplomatically.
+
+“But,” murmured La Valliere, “does Madame know, then -- ”
+
+“Madame knows more about the matter than we said, even,” said Athenais, in a formal, precise manner. “Therefore let us come to a proper understanding.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said Montalais, “and I am listening in breathless attention.”
+
+“Gracious heavens!” murmured Louise, trembling, “shall I ever survive this cruel evening?”
+
+“Oh! do not frighten yourself in that manner,” said Athenais; “we have found a remedy.” So, seating herself between her two companions, and taking each of them by the hand, which she held in her own, she began. The first words were hardly spoke, when they heard a horse galloping away over the stones of the public high-road, outside the gates of the chateau.
+
+Chapter LV. Happy as a Prince.
+
+At the very moment he was about entering the chateau, Bragelonne met De Guiche. But before having been met by Raoul, De Guiche had met Manicamp, who had met Malicorne. How was it that Malicorne had met Manicamp? Nothing more simple, for he had awaited his return from mass, where he had accompanied M. de Saint-Aignan. When they met, they congratulated each other upon their good fortune, and Manicamp availed himself of the circumstance to ask his friend if he had not a few crowns still remaining at the bottom of his pocket. The latter, without expressing any surprise at the question, which he perhaps expected, answered that every pocket which is always being drawn upon without anything ever being put in it, resembles those wells which supply water during the winter, but which gardeners render useless by exhausting during the summer; that his, Malicorne’s, pocket certainly was deep, and that there would be a pleasure in drawing on it in times of plenty, but that, unhappily, abuse had produced barrenness. To this remark, Manicamp, deep in thought, had replied, “Quite true!”
+
+“The question, then, is how to fill it?” Malicorne added.
+
+“Of course; but in what way?”
+
+“Nothing easier, my dear Monsieur Manicamp.”
+
+“So much the better. How?”
+
+“A post in Monsieur’s household, and the pocket is full again.”
+
+“You have the post?”
+
+“That is, I have the promise of being nominated.”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“Yes; but the promise of nomination, without the post itself, is like a purse with no money in it.”
+
+“Quite true,” Manicamp replied a second time.
+
+“Let us try for the post, then,” the candidate had persisted.
+
+“My dear fellow,” sighed Manicamp, “an appointment in his royal highness’s household is one of the gravest difficulties of our position.”
+
+“Oh! oh!”
+
+“There is no question that, at the present moment, we cannot ask Monsieur for anything.”
+
+“Why so?” “Because we are not on good terms with him.”
+
+“A great absurdity, too,” said Malicorne, promptly.
+
+“Bah! and if we were to show Madame any attention,” said Manicamp, “frankly speaking, do you think we should please Monsieur?”
+
+“Precisely; if we show Madame any attention, and do it adroitly, Monsieur ought to adore us.”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Either that or we are great fools. Make haste, therefore, M. Manicamp, you who are so able a politician, and make M. de Guiche and his royal highness friendly again.”
+
+“Tell me, what did M. de Saint-Aignan tell you, Malicorne?”
+
+“Tell me? nothing; he asked me several questions, and that was all.”
+
+“Well, was he less discreet, then, with me.”
+
+“What did he tell you?”
+
+“That the king is passionately in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+“We knew that already,” replied Malicorne, ironically; “and everybody talks about it loud enough for all to know it; but in the meantime, do what I advise you; speak to M. de Guiche, and endeavor to get him to make advances to Monsieur. Deuce take it! he owes his royal highness that, at least.”
+
+“But we must see De Guiche, then?”
+
+“There does not seem to be any great difficulty in that; try to see him in the same way I tried to see you; wait for him; you know that he is naturally very fond of walking.”
+
+“Yes; but whereabouts does he walk?”
+
+“What a question to ask! Do you not know that he is in love with Madame?”
+
+“So it is said.”
+
+“Very well; you will find him walking about on the side of the chateau where her apartments are.”
+
+“Stay, my dear Malicorne, you were not mistaken, for here he is coming.”
+
+“Why should I be mistaken? Have you ever noticed that I am in the habit of making a mistake? Come, we only need to understand each other. Are you in want of money?”
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed Manicamp, mournfully.
+
+“Well, I want my appointment. Let Malicorne have the appointment, and Manicamp shall have the money. There is no greater difficulty in the way than that.”
+
+“Very well; in that case make yourself easy. I will do my best.”
+
+“Do.”
+
+De Guiche approached, Malicorne stepped aside, and Manicamp caught hold of De Guiche, who was thoughtful and melancholy. “Tell me, my dear comte, what rhyme you were trying to find,” said Manicamp. “I have an excellent one to match yours, particularly if yours ends in ame.”
+
+De Guiche shook his head, and recognizing a friend, he took him by the arm. “My dear Manicamp,” he said, “I am in search of something very different from a rhyme.”
+
+“What is it you are looking for?”
+
+“You will help me to find what I am in search of,” continued the comte: “you who are such an idle fellow, in other words, a man with a mind full of ingenious devices.”
+
+“I am getting my ingenuity ready, then, my dear comte.”
+
+“This is the state of the case, then: I wish to approach a particular house, where I have some business.”
+
+“You must get near the house, then,” said Manicamp.
+
+“Very good; but in this house dwells a husband who happens to be jealous.”
+
+“Is he more jealous than the dog Cerberus?”
+
+“Not more, but quite as much so.”
+
+“Has he three mouths, as that obdurate guardian of the infernal regions had? Do not shrug your shoulders, my dear comte: I put the question to you with an excellent reason, since poets pretend that, in order to soften Monsieur Cerberus, the visitor must take something enticing with him -- a cake, for instance. Therefore, I, who view the matter in a prosaic light, that is to say in the light of reality, I say: one cake is very little for three mouths. If your jealous husband has three mouths, comte, get three cakes.”
+
+“Manicamp, I can get such advice as that from M. de Beautru.”
+
+“In order to get better advice,” said Manicamp, with a comical seriousness of expression, “you will be obliged to adopt a more precise formula than you have used towards me.”
+
+“If Raoul were here,” said De Guiche, “he would be sure to understand me.”
+
+“So I think, particularly if you said to him: ‘I should very much like to see Madame a little nearer, but I fear Monsieur, because he is jealous.’”
+
+“Manicamp!” cried the comte, angrily, and endeavoring to overwhelm his tormentor by a look, who did not, however, appear to be in the slightest degree disturbed by it.
+
+“What is the matter now, my dear comte?” inquired Manicamp.
+
+“What! is it thus you blaspheme the most sacred of names?”
+
+“What names?”
+
+“Monsieur! Madame! the highest names in the kingdom.”
+
+“You are very strangely mistaken, my dear comte. I never mentioned the highest names in the kingdom. I merely answered you in reference to the subject of a jealous husband, whose name you did not tell me, and who, as a matter of course, has a wife. I therefore replied to you, in order to see Madame, you must get a little more intimate with Monsieur.”
+
+“Double-dealer that you are,” said the comte, smiling; “was that what you said?”
+
+“Nothing else.”
+
+“Very good; what then?”
+
+“Now,” added Manicamp, “let the question be regarding the Duchess -- or the Duke -- ; very well, I shall say: Let us get into the house in some way or other, for that is a tactic which cannot in any case be unfavorable to your love affair.”
+
+“Ah! Manicamp, if you could but find me a pretext, a good pretext.”
+
+“A pretext; I can find you a hundred, nay, a thousand. If Malicorne were here, he would have already hit upon a thousand excellent pretexts.”
+
+“Who is Malicorne?” replied De Guiche, half-shutting his eyes, like a person reflecting, “I seem to know the name.”
+
+“Know him! I should think so: you owe his father thirty thousand crowns.”
+
+“Ah, indeed! so it’s that worthy fellow from Orleans.”
+
+“Whom you promised an appointment in Monsieur’s household; not the jealous husband, but the other.”
+
+“Well, then, since your friend Malicorne is such an inventive genius, let him find me a means of being adored by Monsieur, and a pretext to make my peace with him.”
+
+“Very good: I’ll talk to him about it.”
+
+“But who is that coming?”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
+
+“Raoul! yes, it is he,” said De Guiche, as he hastened forward to meet him. “You here, Raoul?” said De Guiche.
+
+“Yes: I was looking for you to say farewell,” replied Raoul, warmly, pressing the comte’s hand. “How do you do, Monsieur Manicamp?”
+
+“How is this, vicomte, you are leaving us?”
+
+“Yes, a mission from the king.”
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To London. On leaving you, I am going to Madame; she has a letter to give me for his majesty, Charles II.”
+
+“You will find her alone, for Monsieur has gone out; gone to bathe, in fact.”
+
+“In that case, you, who are one of Monsieur’s gentlemen in waiting, will undertake to make my excuses to him. I would have waited in order to receive any directions he might have to give me, if the desire for my immediate departure had not been intimated to me by M. Fouquet on behalf of his majesty.”
+
+Manicamp touched De Guiche’s elbow, saying, “There’s a pretext for you.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne’s excuses.”
+
+“A weak pretext,” said De Guiche.
+
+“An excellent one, if Monsieur is not angry with you; but a paltry one if he bears you ill-will.”
+
+“You are right, Manicamp; a pretext, however poor it may be, is all I require. And so, a pleasant journey to you, Raoul!” And the two friends took a warm leave of each other.
+
+Five minutes afterwards Raoul entered Madame’s apartments, as Mademoiselle de Montalais had begged him to do. Madame was still seated at the table where she had written her letter. Before her was still burning the rose-colored taper she had used to seal it. Only in her deep reflection, for Madame seemed to be buried in thought, she had forgotten to extinguish the light. Bragelonne was a very model of elegance in every way; it was impossible to see him once without always remembering him; and not only had Madame seen him once, but it will not be forgotten he was one of the very first who had gone to meet her, and had accompanied her from Le Havre to Paris. Madame preserved therefore an excellent recollection of him.
+
+“Ah! M. de Bragelonne,” she said to him, “you are going to see my brother, who will be delighted to pay to the son a portion of the debt of gratitude he contracted with the father.”
+
+“The Comte de la Fere, Madame, has been abundantly recompensed for the little service he had the happiness to render the king, by the kindness manifested towards him, and it is I who will have to convey to his majesty the assurance of the respect, devotion, and gratitude of both father and son.”
+
+“Do you know my brother?”
+
+“No, your highness; I shall have the honor of seeing his majesty for the first time.”
+
+“You require no recommendation to him. At all events, however, if you have any doubt about your personal merit, take me unhesitatingly for your surety.”
+
+“Your royal highness overwhelms me with kindness.”
+
+“No! M. de Bragelonne, I well remember that we were fellow-travelers once, and that I remarked your extreme prudence in the midst of the extravagant absurdities committed, on both sides, by two of the greatest simpletons in the world, -- M. de Guiche and the Duke of Buckingham. Let us not speak of them, however; but of yourself. Are you going to England to remain there permanently? Forgive my inquiry: it is not curiosity, but a desire to be of service to you in anything I can.”
+
+“No, Madame; I am going to England to fulfil a mission which his majesty has been kind enough to confide to me -- nothing more.”
+
+“And you propose to return to France?”
+
+“As soon as I have accomplished my mission; unless, indeed, his majesty, King Charles II., should have other orders for me.”
+
+“He well beg you, at the very least, I am sure, to remain near him as long as possible.”
+
+“In that case, as I shall not know how to refuse, I will now beforehand entreat your royal highness to have the goodness to remind the king of France that one of his devoted servants is far away from him.”
+
+“Take care that when you are recalled, you do not consider his command an abuse of power.”
+
+“I do not understand you, Madame.”
+
+“The court of France is not easily matched, I am aware, but yet we have some pretty women at the court of England also.”
+
+Raoul smiled.
+
+“Oh!” said Madame, “yours is a smile which portends no good to my countrywomen. It is as though you were telling them, Monsieur de Bragelonne: ‘I visit you, but I leave my heart on the other side of the Channel.’ Did not your smile indicate that?”
+
+“Your highness is gifted with the power of reading the inmost depths of the soul, and you will understand, therefore, why, at present, any prolonged residence at the court of England would be a matter of the deepest regret.”
+
+“And I need not inquire if so gallant a knight is recompensed in return?”
+
+“I have been brought up, Madame, with her whom I love, and I believe our affection is mutual.”
+
+“In that case, do not delay your departure, Monsieur de Bragelonne, and delay not your return, for on your return we shall see two persons happy; for I hope no obstacle exists to your felicity.”
+
+“There is a great obstacle, Madame.”
+
+“Indeed! what is it?”
+
+“The king’s wishes on the subject.”
+
+“The king opposes your marriage?”
+
+“He postpones it, at least. I solicited his majesty’s consent through the Comte de la Fere, and, without absolutely refusing it, he positively said it must be deferred.”
+
+“Is the young lady whom you love unworthy of you, then?”
+
+“She is worthy of a king’s affection, Madame.”
+
+“I mean, she is not, perhaps, of birth equal to your own.”
+
+“Her family is excellent.”
+
+“Is she young, beautiful?”
+
+“She is seventeen, and, in my opinion, exceedingly beautiful.”
+
+“Is she in the country, or at Paris?”
+
+“She is here at Fontainebleau, Madame.”
+
+“At the court?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Do I know her?”
+
+“She has the honor to form one of your highness’s household.”
+
+“Her name?” inquired the princess, anxiously; “if indeed,” she added, hastily, “her name is not a secret.”
+
+“No, Madame, my affection is too pure for me to make a secret of it to any one, and with still greater reason to your royal highness, whose kindness towards me has been so extreme. It is Mademoiselle Louise de la Valliere.”
+
+Madame could not restrain an exclamation, in which a feeling stronger than surprise might have been detected. “Ah!” she said, “La Valliere -- she who yesterday -- ” she paused, and then continued, “she who was taken ill, I believe.”
+
+“Yes, Madame; it was only this morning that I heard of the accident that had befallen her.”
+
+“Did you see her before you came to me?”
+
+“I had the honor of taking leave of her.”
+
+“And you say,” resumed Madame, making a powerful effort over herself, “that the king has -- deferred your marriage with this young girl.”
+
+“Yes, Madame, deferred it.”
+
+“Did he assign any reason for this postponement?”
+
+“None.”
+
+“How long is it since the Comte de la Fere preferred his request to the king?”
+
+“More than a month, Madame.”
+
+“It is very singular,” said the princess, as something like a film clouded her eyes.
+
+“A month?” she repeated.
+
+“About a month.”
+
+“You are right, vicomte,” said the princess, with a smile, in which De Bragelonne might have remarked a kind of restraint; “my brother must not keep you too long in England; set off at once, and in the first letter I write to England, I will claim you in the king’s name.” And Madame rose to place her letter in Bragelonne’s hands. Raoul understood that his audience was at an end; he took the letter, bowed lowly to the princess, and left the room.
+
+“A month!” murmured the princess; “could I have been blind, then, to so great an extent, and could he have loved her for this last month?” And as Madame had nothing to do, she sat down to begin a letter to her brother, the postscript of which was a summons for Bragelonne to return.
+
+The Comte de Guiche, as we have seen, had yielded to the pressing persuasions of Manicamp, and allowed himself to be led to the stables, where they desired their horses to be got ready for them; then, by one of the side paths, a description of which has already been given, they advanced to meet Monsieur, who, having just finished bathing, was returning towards the chateau, wearing a woman’s veil to protect his face from getting burnt by the sun, which was shining very brightly. Monsieur was in one of those fits of good humor to which the admiration of his own good looks sometimes gave occasion. As he was bathing he had been able to compare the whiteness of his body with that of the courtiers, and, thanks to the care which his royal highness took of himself, no one, not even the Chevalier de Lorraine, was able to stand the comparison. Monsieur, moreover, had been tolerably successful in swimming, and his muscles having been exercised by the healthy immersion in the cool water, he was in a light and cheerful state of mind and body. So that, at the sight of Guiche, who advanced to meet him at a hand gallop, mounted upon a magnificent white horse, the prince could not restrain an exclamation of delight.
+
+“I think matters look well,” said Manicamp, who fancied he could read this friendly disposition upon his royal highness’s countenance.
+
+“Good day, De Guiche, good day,” exclaimed the prince.
+
+“Long life to your royal highness!” replied De Guiche, encouraged by the tone of Philip’s voice; “health, joy, happiness, and prosperity to your highness.”
+
+“Welcome, De Guiche, come on my right side, but keep your horse in hand, for I wish to return at a walking pace under the cool shade of these trees.”
+
+“As you please, monseigneur,” said De Guiche, taking his place on the prince’s right as he had been invited to do.
+
+“Now, my dear De Guiche,” said the prince, “give me a little news of that De Guiche whom I used to know formerly, and who used to pay attentions to my wife.”
+
+Guiche blushed to the very whites of his eyes, while Monsieur burst out laughing, as though he had made the wittiest remark in the world. The few privileged courtiers who surrounded Monsieur thought it their duty to follow his example, although they had not heard the remark, and a noisy burst of laughter immediately followed, beginning with the first courtier, passing on through the whole company, and only terminating with the last. De Guiche, although blushing scarlet, put a good countenance on the matter; Manicamp looked at him.
+
+“Ah! monseigneur,” replied De Guiche, “show a little charity towards such a miserable fellow as I am: do not hold me up to the ridicule of the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+“How do you mean?”
+
+“If he hears you ridicule me, he will go beyond your highness, and will show no pity.”
+
+“About your passion and the princess, do you mean?”
+
+“For mercy’s sake, monseigneur.”
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche, confess that you did get a little sweet upon Madame.”
+
+“I will never confess such a thing, monseigneur.”
+
+“Out of respect for me, I suppose; but I release you from your respect, De Guiche. Confess, as if it were simply a question about Mademoiselle de Chalais or Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
+
+Then breaking off, he said, beginning to laugh again, “Comte, that wasn’t at all bad! -- a remark like a sword, which cuts two ways at once. I hit you and my brother at the same time, Chalais and La Valliere, your affianced bride and his future lady love.”
+
+“Really, monseigneur,” said the comte, “you are in a most brilliant humor to-day.”
+
+“The fact is, I feel well, and then I am pleased to see you again. But you were angry with me, were you not?”
+
+“I, monseigneur? Why should I have been so?”
+
+“Because I interfered with your sarabands and your other Spanish amusements. Nay, do not deny it. On that day you left the princess’s apartments with your eyes full of fury; that brought you ill-luck, for you danced in the ballet yesterday in a most wretched manner. Now don’t get sulky, De Guiche, for it does you no good, but makes you look like a tame bear. If the princess did not look at you attentively yesterday, I am quite sure of one thing.”
+
+“What is that, monseigneur? Your highness alarms me.”
+
+“She has quite forsworn you now,” said the prince, with a burst of loud laughter.
+
+“Decidedly,” thought Manicamp, “rank has nothing to do with it, and all men are alike.”
+
+The prince continued: “At all events, you have now returned, and it is to be hoped that the chevalier will become amiable again.”
+
+“How so, monseigneur: and by what miracle can I exercise such an influence over M. de Lorraine?”
+
+“The matter is very simple, he is jealous of you.”
+
+“Bah! it is not possible.”
+
+“It is the case, though.”
+
+“He does me too much honor.”
+
+“The fact is, that when you are here, he is full of kindness and attention, but when you are gone he makes me suffer a perfect martyrdom. I am like a see-saw. Besides, you do not know the idea that has struck me?”
+
+“I do not even suspect it.”
+
+“Well, then; when you were in exile -- for you really were exiled, my poor De Guiche -- ”
+
+“I should think so, indeed; but whose fault was it?” said De Guiche, pretending to speak in an angry tone.
+
+“Not mine, certainly, my dear comte,” replied his royal highness, “upon my honor, I did not ask for the king to exile you -- ”
+
+“No, not you, monseigneur, I am well aware; but -- ”
+
+“But Madame; well, as far as that goes, I do not say it was not the case. Why, what the deuce did you do or say to Madame?”
+
+“Really, monseigneur -- ”
+
+“Women, I know, have their grudges, and my wife is not free from caprices of that nature. But if she were the cause of your being exiled I bear you no ill-will.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur,” said De Guiche. “I am not altogether unhappy.”
+
+Manicamp, who was following closely behind De Guiche and who did not lose a word of what the prince was saying, bent down to his very shoulders over his horse’s neck, in order to conceal the laughter he could not repress.
+
+“Besides, your exile started a project in my head.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“When the chevalier -- finding you were no longer here, and sure of reigning undisturbed -- began to bully me, I, observing that my wife, in the most perfect contrast to him, was most kind and amiable towards me who had neglected her so much, the idea occurred to me of becoming a model husband -- a rarity, a curiosity, at the court; and I had an idea of getting very fond of my wife.”
+
+De Guiche looked at the prince with a stupefied expression of countenance, which was not assumed.
+
+“Oh! monseigneur,” De Guiche stammered out; “surely, that never seriously occurred to you.”
+
+“Indeed it did. I have some property that my brother gave me on my marriage; she has some money of her own, and not a little either, for she gets money from her brother and brother-in-law of England and France at the same time. Well! we should have left the court. I should have retired to my chateau at Villers-Cotterets, situated in the middle of a forest, in which we should have led a most sentimental life in the very same spot where my grandfather, Henry IV., sojourned with La Belle Gabrielle. What do you think of that idea, De Guiche?”
+
+“Why, it is enough to make one shiver, monseigneur,” replied De Guiche, who shuddered in reality.
+
+“Ah! I see you would never be able to endure being exiled a second time.”
+
+“I, monseigneur?”
+
+“I will not carry you off with us, as I had first intended.”
+
+“What, with you, monseigneur?”
+
+“Yes; if the idea should occur to me again of taking a dislike to the court.”
+
+“Oh! do not let that make any difference, monseigneur; I would follow your highness to the end of the world.”
+
+“Clumsy fellow that you are!” said Manicamp, grumblingly, pushing his horse towards De Guiche, so as almost to unseat him, and then, as he passed close to him, as if he had lost command over the horse, he whispered, “For goodness’ sake, think what you are saying.”
+
+“Well, it is agreed, then,” said the prince; “since you are so devoted to me, I shall take you with me.”
+
+“Anywhere, monseigneur,” replied De Guiche in a joyous tone, “whenever you like, and at once, too. Are you ready?”
+
+And De Guiche, laughingly, gave his horse the rein, and galloped forward a few yards.
+
+“One moment,” said the prince. “Let us go to the chateau first.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Why, to take my wife, of course.”
+
+“What for?” asked De Guiche.
+
+“Why, since I tell you that it is a project of conjugal affection, it is necessary I should take my wife with me.”
+
+“In that case, monseigneur,” replied the comte, “I am greatly concerned, but no De Guiche for you.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“Yes. -- Why do you take Madame with you?”
+
+“Because I begin to fancy I love her,” said the prince.
+
+De Guiche turned slightly pale, but endeavored to preserve his seeming cheerfulness.
+
+“If you love Madame, monseigneur,” he said, “that ought to be quite enough for you, and you have no further need of your friends.”
+
+“Not bad, not bad,” murmured Manicamp.
+
+“There, your fear of Madame has begun again,” replied the prince.
+
+“Why, monseigneur, I have experienced that to my cost; a woman who was the cause of my being exiled!”
+
+“What a revengeful disposition you have, De Guiche, how virulently you bear malice.”
+
+“I should like the case to be your own, monseigneur.”
+
+“Decidedly, then, that was the reason why you danced so badly yesterday; you wished to revenge yourself, I suppose, by trying to make Madame make a mistake in her dancing; ah! that is very paltry, De Guiche, and I will tell Madame of it.”
+
+“You may tell her whatever you please, monseigneur, for her highness cannot hate me more than she does.”
+
+“Nonsense, you are exaggerating; and this because merely of the fortnight’s sojourn in the country she imposed on you.”
+
+“Monseigneur, a fortnight is a fortnight; and when the time is passed in getting sick and tired of everything, a fortnight is an eternity.”
+
+“So that you will not forgive her?”
+
+“Never!”
+
+“Come, come, De Guiche, be a better disposed fellow than that. I wish to make your peace with her; you will find, in conversing with her, that she has no malice or unkindness in her nature, and that she is very talented.”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“You will see that she can receive her friends like a princess, and laugh like a citizen’s wife; you will see that, when she pleases, she can make the pleasant hours pass like minutes. Come, De Guiche, you must really make up your differences with my wife.”
+
+“Upon my word,” said Manicamp to himself, “the prince is a husband whose wife’s name will bring him ill-luck, and King Candaules, of old, was a tiger beside his royal highness.”
+
+“At all events,” added the prince, “I am sure you will make it up with my wife: I guarantee you will do so. Only, I must show you the way now. There is nothing commonplace about her: it is not every one who takes her fancy.”
+
+“Monseigneur -- ”
+
+“No resistance, De Guiche, or I shall get out of temper,” replied the prince.
+
+“Well, since he will have it so,” murmured Manicamp, in Guiche’s ear, “do as he wants you to do.”
+
+“Well, monseigneur,” said the comte, “I obey.”
+
+“And to begin,” resumed the prince, “there will be cards, this evening, in Madame’s apartment; you will dine with me, and I will take you there with me.”
+
+“Oh! as for that, monseigneur,” objected De Guiche, “you will allow me to object.”
+
+“What, again! this is positive rebellion.”
+
+“Madame received me too indifferently, yesterday, before the whole court.”
+
+“Really!” said the prince, laughing.
+
+“Nay, so much so, indeed, that she did not even answer me when I addressed her; it may be a good thing to have no self-respect at all, but to have too little is not enough, as the saying is.”
+
+“Comte! after dinner, you will go to your own apartments and dress yourself, and then you will come to fetch me. I shall wait for you.”
+
+“Since your highness absolutely commands it.”
+
+“Positively.”
+
+“He will not lose his hold,” said Manicamp; “these are the things to which husbands cling most obstinately. Ah! what a pity M. Moliere could not have heard this man; he would have turned him into verse if he had.”
+
+The prince and his court, chatting in this manner, returned to the coolest apartments of the chateau.
+
+“By the by,” said De Guiche, as they were standing by the door, “I had a commission for your royal highness.”
+
+“Execute it, then.”
+
+“M. de Bragelonne has, by the king’s order, set off for London, and he charged me with his respects for you; monseigneur.”
+
+“A pleasant journey to the vicomte, whom I like very much. Go and dress yourself, De Guiche, and come back for me. If you don’t come back -- ”
+
+“What will happen, monseigneur?”
+
+“I will have you sent to the Bastile.”
+
+“Well,” said De Guiche, laughing, “his royal highness, monseigneur, is decidedly the counterpart of her royal highness, Madame. Madame gets me sent into exile, because she does not care for me sufficiently; and monseigneur gets me imprisoned, because he cares for me too much. I thank monseigneur, and I thank Madame.”
+
+“Come, come,” said the prince, “you are a delightful companion, and you know I cannot do without you. Return as soon as you can.”
+
+“Very well; but I am in the humor to prove myself difficult to be pleased, in my turn, monseigneur.”
+
+“Bah!”
+
+“So, I will not return to your royal highness, except upon one condition.”
+
+“Name it.”
+
+“I want to oblige the friend of one of my friends.”
+
+“What’s his name?”
+
+“Malicorne.”
+
+“An ugly name.”
+
+“But very well borne, monseigneur.”
+
+“That may be. Well?”
+
+“Well, I owe M. Malicorne a place in your household, monseigneur.”
+
+“What kind of a place?”
+
+“Any kind of a place; a supervision of some sort or another, for instance.”
+
+“That happens very fortunately, for yesterday I dismissed my chief usher of the apartments.”
+
+“That will do admirably. What are his duties?”
+
+“Nothing, except to look about and make his report.”
+
+“A sort of interior police?”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“Ah, how excellently that will suit Malicorne,” Manicamp ventured to say.
+
+“You know the person we are speaking of, M. Manicamp?” inquired the prince.
+
+“Intimately, monseigneur. He is a friend of mine.”
+
+“And your opinion is?”
+
+“That your highness could never get a better usher of the apartments than he will make.”
+
+“How much does the appointment bring in?” inquired the comte of the prince.
+
+“I don’t know at all, only I have always been told that he could make as much as he pleased when he was thoroughly in earnest.”
+
+“What do you call being thoroughly in earnest, prince?”
+
+“It means, of course, when the functionary in question is a man who has his wits about him.”
+
+“In that case I think your highness will be content, for Malicorne is as sharp as the devil himself.”
+
+“Good! the appointment will be an expensive one for me, in that case,” replied the prince, laughing. “You are making me a positive present, comte.”
+
+“I believe so, monseigneur.”
+
+“Well, go and announce to your M. Melicorne -- ”
+
+“Malicorne, monseigneur.”
+
+“I shall never get hold of that name.”
+
+“You say Manicamp very well, monseigneur.”
+
+“Oh, I ought to say Malicorne very well, too. The alliteration will help me.”
+
+“Say what you like, monseigneur, I can promise you your inspector of apartments will not be annoyed; he has the very happiest disposition that can be met with.”
+
+“Well, then, my dear De Guiche, inform him of his nomination. But, stay -- ”
+
+“What is it, monseigneur?”
+
+“I wish to see him beforehand; if he be as ugly as his name, I retract every word I have said.”
+
+“Your highness knows him, for you have already seen him at the Palais Royal; nay, indeed, it was I who presented him to you.”
+
+“Ah, I remember now -- not a bad-looking fellow.”
+
+“I know you must have noticed him, monseigneur.”
+
+“Yes, yes, yes. You see, De Guiche, I do not wish that either my wife or myself should have ugly faces before our eyes. My wife will have all her maids of honor pretty; I, all the gentlemen about me good-looking. In this way, De Guiche, you see, that any children we may have will run a good chance of being pretty, if my wife and myself have handsome models before us.”
+
+“Most magnificently argued, monseigneur,” said Manicamp, showing his approval by look and voice at the same time.
+
+As for De Guiche, he very probably did not find the argument so convincing, for he merely signified his opinion by a gesture, which, moreover, exhibited in a marked manner some indecision of mind on the subject. Manicamp went off to inform Malicorne of the good news he had just learned. De Guiche seemed very unwilling to take his departure for the purpose of dressing himself. Monsieur, singing, laughing, and admiring himself, passed away the time until the dinner-hour, in a frame of mind that justified the proverb of “Happy as a prince.”
+
+Chapter LVI. Story of a Dryad and a Naiad.
+
+Every one had partaken of the banquet at the chateau, and afterwards assumed their full court dresses. The usual hour for the repast was five o’clock. If we say, then, that the repast occupied an hour, and the toilette two hours, everybody was ready about eight o’clock in the evening. Towards eight o’clock, then, the guests began to arrive at Madame’s, for we have already intimated that it was Madame who “received” that evening. And at Madame’s soirees no one failed to be present; for the evenings passed in her apartments always had that perfect charm about them which the queen, that pious and excellent princess, had not been able to confer upon her reunions. For, unfortunately, one of the advantages of goodness of disposition is that it is far less amusing than wit of an ill-natured character. And yet, let us hasten to add, that such a style of wit could not be assigned to Madame, for her disposition of mind, naturally of the very highest order, comprised too much true generosity, too many noble impulses and high-souled thoughts, to warrant her being termed ill-natured. But Madame was endowed with a spirit of resistance -- a gift frequently fatal to its possessor, for it breaks where another disposition would have bent; the result was that blows did not become deadened upon her as upon what might be termed the cotton-wadded feelings of Maria Theresa. Her heart rebounded at each attack, and therefore, whenever she was attacked, even in a manner that almost stunned her, she returned blow for blow to any one imprudent enough to tilt against her.
+
+Was this really maliciousness of disposition or simply waywardness of character? We regard those rich and powerful natures as like the tree of knowledge, producing good and evil at the same time; a double branch, always blooming and fruitful, of which those who wish to eat know how to detect the good fruit, and from which the worthless and frivolous die who have eaten of it -- a circumstance which is by no means to be regarded as a great misfortune. Madame, therefore, who had a well-disguised plan in her mind of constituting herself the second, if not even the principal, queen of the court, rendered her receptions delightful to all, from the conversation, the opportunities of meeting, and the perfect liberty she allowed every one of making any remark he pleased, on the condition, however, that the remark was amusing or sensible. And it will hardly be believed, that, by that means, there was less talking among the society Madame assembled together than elsewhere. Madame hated people who talked much, and took a remarkably cruel revenge upon them, for she allowed them to talk. She disliked pretension, too, and never overlooked that defect, even in the king himself. It was more than a weakness of Monsieur, and the princess had undertaken the amazing task of curing him of it. As for the rest, poets, wits, beautiful women, all were received by her with the air of a mistress superior to her slaves. Sufficiently meditative in her liveliest humors to make even poets meditate; sufficiently pretty to dazzle by her attractions, even among the prettiest; sufficiently witty for the most distinguished persons who were present, to be listened to with pleasure -- it will easily be believed that the reunions held in Madame’s apartments must naturally have proved very attractive. All who were young flocked there, and when the king himself happens to be young, everybody at court is so too. And so, the older ladies of the court, the strong-minded women of the regency, or of the last reign, pouted and sulked at their ease; but others only laughed at the fits of sulkiness in which these venerable individuals indulged, who had carried the love of authority so far as even to take command of bodies of soldiers in the wars of the Fronde, in order, as Madame asserted, not to lose their influence over men altogether. As eight o’clock struck her royal highness entered the great drawing-room accompanied by her ladies in attendance, and found several gentlemen belonging to the court already there, having been waiting for some minutes. Among those who had arrived before the hour fixed for the reception she looked round for one who, she thought, ought to have been first in attendance, but he was not there. However, almost at the very moment she completed her investigation, Monsieur was announced. Monsieur looked splendid. All the precious stones and jewels of Cardinal Mazarin, which of course that minister could not do otherwise than leave; all the queen-mother’s jewels as well as a few belonging to his wife -- Monsieur wore them all, and he was as dazzling as the rising sun. Behind him followed De Guiche, with hesitating steps and an air of contrition admirably assumed; De Guiche wore a costume of French-gray velvet, embroidered with silver, and trimmed with blue ribbons: he wore also Mechlin lace as rare and beautiful in its own way as the jewels of Monsieur in theirs. The plume in his hat was red. Madame, too, wore several colors, and preferred red for embroidery, gray for dress, and blue for flowers. M. de Guiche, dressed as we have described, looked so handsome that he excited every one’s observation. An interesting pallor of complexion, a languid expression of the eyes, his white hands seen through the masses of lace that covered them, the melancholy expression of his mouth -- it was only necessary, indeed, to see M. de Guiche to admit that few men at the court of France could hope to equal him. The consequence was that Monsieur, who was pretentious enough to fancy he could eclipse a star even, if a star had adorned itself in a similar manner to himself, was, on the contrary, completely eclipsed in all imaginations, which are silent judges certainly, but very positive and firm in their convictions. Madame looked at De Guiche lightly, but light as her look had been, it brought a delightful color to his face. In fact, Madame found De Guiche so handsome and so admirably dressed, that she almost ceased regretting the royal conquest she felt she was on the point of escaping her. Her heart, therefore, sent the blood to her face. Monsieur approached her. He had not noticed the princess’s blush, or if he had seen it, he was far from attributing it to its true cause.
+
+“Madame,” he said, kissing his wife’s hand, “there is some one present here, who has fallen into disgrace, an unhappy exile whom I venture to recommend to your kindness. Do not forget, I beg, that he is one of my best friends, and that a gentle reception of him will please me greatly.”
+
+“What exile? what disgraced person are you speaking of?” inquired Madame, looking all round, and not permitting her glance to rest more on the count than on the others.
+
+This was the moment to present De Guiche, and the prince drew aside and let De Guiche pass him, who, with a tolerably well-assumed awkwardness of manner, approached Madame and made his reverence to her.
+
+“What!” exclaimed Madame, as if she were greatly surprised, “is M. de Guiche the disgraced individual you speak of, the exile in question?”
+
+“Yes, certainly,” returned the duke.
+
+“Indeed,” said Madame, “he seems almost the only person here!”
+
+“You are unjust, Madame,” said the prince.
+
+“I?”
+
+“Certainly. Come, forgive the poor fellow.”
+
+“Forgive him what? What have I to forgive M. de Guiche?”
+
+“Come, explain yourself, De Guiche. What do you wish to be forgiven?” inquired the prince.
+
+“Alas! her royal highness knows very well what it is,” replied the latter, in a hypocritical tone.
+
+“Come, come, give him your hand, Madame,” said Philip.
+
+“If it will give you any pleasure, Monsieur,” and, with a movement of her eyes and shoulders, which it would be impossible to describe, Madame extended towards the young man her beautiful and perfumed hand, upon which he pressed his lips. It was evident that he did so for some little time, and that Madame did not withdraw her hand too quickly, for the duke added:
+
+“De Guiche is not wickedly disposed, Madame; so do not be afraid, he will not bite you.”
+
+A pretext was given in the gallery by the duke’s remark, which was not, perhaps, very laughable, for every one to laugh excessively. The situation was odd enough, and some kindly disposed persons had observed it. Monsieur was still enjoying the effect of his remark, when the king was announced. The appearance of the room at that moment was as follows: -- in the center, before the fireplace, which was filled with flowers, Madame was standing up, with her maids of honor formed in two wings, on either side of her; around whom the butterflies of the court were fluttering. Several other groups were formed in the recesses of the windows, like soldiers stationed in their different towers who belong to the same garrison. From their respective places they could pick up the remarks which fell from the principal group. From one of these groups, the nearest to the fireplace, Malicorne, who had been at once raised to the dignity, through Manicamp and De Guiche, of the post of master of the apartments, and whose official costume had been ready for the last two months, was brilliant with gold lace, and shone upon Montalais, standing on Madame’s extreme left, with all the fire of his eyes and splendor of his velvet. Madame was conversing with Mademoiselle de Chatillon and Mademoiselle de Crequy, who were next to her, and addressed a few words to Monsieur, who drew aside as soon as the king was announced. Mademoiselle de la Valliere, like Montalais, was on Madame’s left hand, and the last but one on the line, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente being on her right. She was stationed as certain bodies of troops are, whose weakness is suspected, and who are placed between two experienced regiments. Guarded in this manner by the companions who had shared her adventure, La Valliere, whether from regret at Raoul’s departure, or still suffering from the emotion caused by recent events, which had begun to render her name familiar on the lips of the courtiers, La Valliere, we repeat, hid her eyes, red with weeping, behind her fan, and seemed to give the greatest attention to the remarks which Montalais and Athenais, alternately, whispered to her from time to time. As soon as the king’s name was announced a general movement took place in the apartment. Madame, in her character as hostess, rose to receive the royal visitor; but as she rose, notwithstanding her preoccupation of mind, she glanced hastily towards her right; her glance, which the presumptuous De Guiche regarded as intended for himself, rested, as it swept over the whole circle, upon La Valliere, whose warm blush and restless emotion it instantly perceived.
+
+The king advanced to the middle of the group, which had now become a general one, by a movement which took place from the circumference to the center. Every head bowed low before his majesty, the ladies bending like frail, magnificent lilies before King Aquilo. There was nothing very severe, we will even say, nothing very royal that evening about the king, except youth and good looks. He wore an air of animated joyousness and good-humor which set all imaginations at work, and, thereupon, all present promised themselves a delightful evening, for no other reason than from having remarked the desire his majesty had to amuse himself in Madame’s apartments. If there was any one in particular whose high spirits and good-humor equalled the king’s, it was M. de Saint-Aignan, who was dressed in a rose-colored costume, with face and ribbons of the same color, and, in addition, particularly rose-colored in his ideas, for that evening M. de Saint-Aignan was prolific in jests. The circumstance which had given a new expansion to the numerous ideas germinating in his fertile brain was, that he had just perceived that Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was, like himself, dressed in rose-color. We would not wish to say, however, that the wily courtier had not know beforehand that the beautiful Athenais was to wear that particular color; for he very well knew the art of unlocking the lips of a dress-maker or a lady’s maid as to her mistress’s intentions. He cast as many killing glances at Mademoiselle Athenais as he had bows of ribbons on his stockings and doublet; in other words he discharged a prodigious number. The king having paid Madame the customary compliments, and Madame having requested him to be seated, the circle was immediately formed. Louis inquired of Monsieur the particulars of the day’s bathing; and stated, looking at the ladies present while he spoke, that certain poets were engaged turning into verse the enchanting diversion of the baths of Vulaines, and that one of them particularly, M. Loret, seemed to have been intrusted with the confidence of some water-nymph, as he had in his verses recounted many circumstances that were actually true -- at which remark more than one lady present felt herself bound to blush. The king at this moment took the opportunity of looking round him at more leisure; Montalais was the only one who did not blush sufficiently to prevent her looking at the king, and she saw him fix his eyes devouringly on Mademoiselle de la Valliere. This undaunted maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais, be it understood, forced the king to lower his gaze, and so saved Louise de la Valliere from a sympathetic warmth of feeling this gaze might possibly have conveyed. Louis was appropriated by Madame, who overwhelmed him with inquiries, and no one in the world knew how to ask questions better than she did. He tried, however, to render the conversation general, and, with the view of effecting this, he redoubled his attention and devotion to her. Madame coveted complimentary remarks, and, determined to procure them at any cost, she addressed herself to the king, saying:
+
+“Sire, your majesty, who is aware of everything which occurs in your kingdom, ought to know beforehand the verses confided to M. Loret by this nymph; will your majesty kindly communicate them to us?”
+
+“Madame,” replied the king, with perfect grace of manner, “I dare not -- you, personally, might be in no little degree confused at having to listen to certain details -- but Saint-Aignan tells a story well, and has a perfect recollection of the verses. If he does not remember them, he will invent. I can certify he is almost a poet himself.” Saint-Aignan, thus brought prominently forward, was compelled to introduce himself as advantageously as possible. Unfortunately, however, for Madame, he thought of his own personal affairs only; in other words, instead of paying Madame the compliments she so much desired and relished, his mind was fixed upon making as much display as possible of his own good fortune. Again glancing, therefore, for the hundredth time at the beautiful Athenais, who carried into practice her previous evening’s theory of not even deigning to look at her adorer, he said: -- 
+
+“Your majesty will perhaps pardon me for having too indifferently remembered the verses which the nymph dictated to Loret; but if the king has not retained any recollection of them, how could I possibly remember?”
+
+Madame did not receive this shortcoming of the courtier very favorably.
+
+“Ah! madame,” added Saint-Aignan, “at present it is no longer a question what the water-nymphs have to say; and one would almost be tempted to believe that nothing of any interest now occurs in those liquid realms. It is upon earth, madame, important events happen. Ah! Madame, upon the earth, how many tales are there full of -- ”
+
+“Well,” said Madame, “and what is taking place upon the earth?”
+
+“That question must be asked of the Dryads,” replied the comte; “the Dryads inhabit the forest, as your royal highness is aware.”
+
+“I am aware also, that they are naturally very talkative, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Such is the case, Madame; but when they say such delightful things, it would be ungracious to accuse them of being too talkative.”
+
+“Do they talk so delightfully, then?” inquired the princess, indifferently. “Really, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you excite my curiosity; and, if I were the king, I would require you immediately to tell us what the delightful things are these Dryads have been saying, since you alone seem to understand their language.”
+
+“I am at his majesty’s orders, Madame, in that respect,” replied the comte, quickly.
+
+“What a fortunate fellow this Saint-Aignan is to understand the language of the Dryads,” said Monsieur.
+
+“I understand it perfectly, monseigneur, as I do my own language.”
+
+“Tell us all about them, then,” said Madame.
+
+The king felt embarrassed, for his confidant was, in all probability, about to embark in a difficult matter. He felt that it would be so, from the general attention excited by Saint-Aignan’s preamble, and aroused too by Madame’s peculiar manner. The most reserved of those who were present seemed ready to devour every syllable the comte was about to pronounce. They coughed, drew closer together, looked curiously at some of the maids of honor, who, in order to support with greater propriety, or with more steadiness, the fixity of the inquisitorial looks bent upon them, adjusted their fans accordingly, and assumed the bearing of a duelist about to be exposed to his adversary’s fire. At this epoch, the fashion of ingeniously constructed conversations, and hazardously dangerous recitals, so prevailed, that, where, in modern times, a whole company assembled in a drawing-room would begin to suspect some scandal, or disclosure, or tragic event, and would hurry away in dismay, Madame’s guests quietly settled themselves in their places, in order not to lose a word or gesture of the comedy composed by Monsieur de Saint-Aignan for their benefit, and the termination of which, whatever the style and the plot might be, must, as a matter of course, be marked by the most perfect propriety. The comte as known as a man of extreme refinement, and an admirable narrator. He courageously began, then, amidst a profound silence, which would have been formidable to any one but himself: -- “Madame, by the king’s permission, I address myself, in the first place, to your royal highness, since you admit yourself to be the person present possessing the greatest curiosity. I have the honor, therefore, to inform your royal highness that the Dryad more particularly inhabits the hollows of oaks; and, as Dryads are mythological creatures of great beauty, they inhabit the most beautiful trees, in other words, the largest to be found.”
+
+At this exordium, which recalled, under a transparent veil, the celebrated story of the royal oak, which had played so important a part in the last evening, so many hearts began to beat, both from joy and uneasiness, that, if Saint-Aignan had not had a good and sonorous voice, their throbbings might have been heard above the sound of his voice.
+
+“There must surely be Dryads at Fontainebleau, then,” said Madame, in a perfectly calm voice; “for I have never, in all my life, seen finer oaks than in the royal park.” And as she spoke, she directed towards De Guiche a look of which he had no reason to complain, as he had of the one that preceded it; which, as we have already mentioned, had reserved a certain amount of indefiniteness most painful for so loving a heart as his.
+
+“Precisely, Madame, it is of Fontainebleau I was about to speak to your royal highness,” said Saint-Aignan; “for the Dryad whose story is engaging our attention, lives in the park belonging to the chateau of his majesty.”
+
+The affair was fairly embarked on; the action was begun, and it was no longer possible for auditory or narrator to draw back.
+
+“It will be worth listening to,” said Madame; “for the story not only appears to me to have all the interest of a national incident, but still more, seems to be a circumstance of very recent occurrence.”
+
+“I ought to begin at the beginning,” said the comte. “In the first place, then, there lived at Fontainebleau, in a cottage of modest and unassuming appearance, two shepherds. The one was the shepherd Tyrcis, the owner of extensive domains transmitted to him from his parents, by right of inheritance. Tyrcis was young and handsome, and, from his many qualifications, he might be pronounced to be the first and foremost among the shepherds in the whole country; one might even boldly say he was the king of shepherds.” A subdued murmur of approbation encouraged the narrator, who continued: -- “His strength equals his courage; no one displays greater address in hunting wild beasts, nor greater wisdom in matters where judgment is required. Whenever he mounts and exercises his horse in the beautiful plains of his inheritance, or whenever he joins with the shepherds who owe him allegiance, in different games of skill and strength, one might say that it is the god Mars hurling his lance on the plains of Thrace, or, even better, that it was Apollo himself, the god of day, radiant upon earth, bearing his flaming darts in his hand.” Every one understood that this allegorical portrait of the king was not the worst exordium the narrator could have chosen; and consequently it did not fail to produce its effect, either upon those who, from duty or inclination, applauded it to the very echo, or on the king himself, to whom flattery was very agreeable when delicately conveyed, and whom, indeed, it did not always displease, even when it was a little too broad. Saint-Aignan then continued: -- “It is not in games of glory only, ladies, that the shepherd Tyrcis had acquired that reputation by which he was regarded as the king of the shepherds.”
+
+“Of the shepherds of Fontainebleau,” said the king, smilingly, to Madame.
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Madame, “Fontainebleau is selected arbitrarily by the poet; but I should say, of the shepherds of the whole world.” The king forgot his part of a passive auditor, and bowed.
+
+“It is,” paused Saint-Aignan, amidst a flattering murmur of applause, “it is with ladies fair especially that the qualities of this king of the shepherds are most prominently displayed. He is a shepherd with a mind as refined as his heart is pure; he can pay a compliment with a charm of manner whose fascination it is impossible to resist; and in his attachments he is so discreet, that beautiful and happy conquests may regard their lot as more than enviable. Never a syllable of disclosure, never a moment’s forgetfulness. Whoever has seen and heard Tyrcis must love him; whoever loves and is beloved by him, has indeed found happiness.” Saint-Aignan here paused; he was enjoying the pleasure of all these compliments; and the portrait he had drawn, however grotesquely inflated it might be, had found favor in certain ears, in which the perfections of the shepherd did not seem to have been exaggerated. Madame begged the orator to continue. “Tyrcis,” said the comte, “had a faithful companion, or rather a devoted servant, whose name was -- Amyntas.”
+
+“Ah!” said Madame, archly, “now for the portrait of Amyntas; you are such an excellent painter, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“Madame -- ”
+
+“Oh! comte, do not, I entreat you, sacrifice poor Amyntas; I should never forgive you.”
+
+“Madame, Amyntas is of too humble a position, particularly beside Tyrcis, for his person to be honored by a parallel. There are certain friends who resemble those followers of ancient times, who caused themselves to be buried alive at their masters’ feet. Amyntas’s place, too, is at the feet of Tyrcis; he cares for no other; and if, sometimes, the illustrious hero -- ”
+
+“Illustrious shepherd, you mean?” said Madame, pretending to correct M. de Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Your royal highness is right; I was mistaken,” returned the courtier; “if, I say, the shepherd Tyrcis deigns occasionally to call Amyntas his friend, and to open his heart to him, it is an unparalleled favor, which the latter regards as the most unbounded felicity.”
+
+“All that you say,” interrupted Madame, “establishes the extreme devotion of Amyntas to Tyrcis, but does not furnish us with the portrait of Amyntas. Comte, do not flatter him, if you like; but describe him to us. I will have Amyntas’s portrait.” Saint-Aignan obeyed, after having bowed profoundly to his majesty’s sister-in-law.
+
+“Amyntas,” he said, “is somewhat older than Tyrcis; he is not an ill-favored shepherd; it is even said that the muses condescended to smile upon him at his birth, even as Hebe smiled upon youth. He is not ambitious of display, but he is ambitious of being loved; and he might not, perhaps, be found unworthy of it, if he were only sufficiently well-known.”
+
+This latter paragraph, strengthened by a killing glance, was directed straight to Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who received them both unmoved. But the modesty and tact of the allusion had produced a good effect; Amyntas reaped the benefit of it in the applause bestowed upon him: Tyrcis’s head even gave the signal for it by a consenting bow, full of good feeling.
+
+“One evening,” continued Saint-Aignan, “Tyrcis and Amyntas were walking together in the forest, talking of their love disappointments. Do not forget, ladies, that the story of the Dryad is now beginning, otherwise it would be easy to tell you what Tyrcis and Amyntas, the two most discreet shepherds of the whole earth, were talking about. They reached the thickest part of the forest, for the purpose of being quite alone, and of confiding their troubles more freely to each other, when suddenly the sound of voices struck upon their ears.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” said those who surrounded the narrator. “Nothing can be more interesting.”
+
+At this point, Madame, like a vigilant general inspecting his army, glanced at Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who could not help wincing as they drew themselves up.
+
+“These harmonious voices,” resumed Saint-Aignan, “were those of certain shepherdesses, who had been likewise desirous of enjoying the coolness of the shade, and who, knowing the isolated and almost unapproachable situation of the place, had betaken themselves there to interchange their ideas upon -- ” A loud burst of laughter occasioned by this remark of Saint-Aignan, and an imperceptible smile of the king, as he looked at Tonnay-Charente, followed this sally.
+
+“The Dryad affirms positively,” continued Saint-Aignan, “that the shepherdesses were three in number, and that all three were young and beautiful.”
+
+“What were their names?” said Madame, quickly.
+
+“Their names?” said Saint-Aignan, who hesitated from fear of committing an indiscretion.
+
+“Of course; you call your shepherds Tyrcis and Amyntas; give your shepherdesses names in a similar manner.”
+
+“Oh! Madame, I am not an inventor; I relate simply what took place as the Dryad related it to me.”
+
+“What did your Dryad, then, call these shepherdesses? You have a very treacherous memory, I fear. This Dryad must have fallen out with the goddess Mnemosyne.”
+
+“These shepherdesses, Madame? Pray remember that it is a crime to betray a woman’s name.”
+
+“From which a woman absolves you, comte, on the condition that you will reveal the names of the shepherdesses.”
+
+“Their names were Phyllis, Amaryllis, and Galatea.”
+
+“Exceedingly well! -- they have not lost by the delay,” said Madame, “and now we have three charming names. But now for their portraits.”
+
+Saint-Aignan again made a slight movement.
+
+“Nay, comte, let us proceed in due order,” returned Madame. “Ought we not, sire, to have the portraits of the shepherdesses?”
+
+The king, who expected this determined perseverance, and who began to feel some uneasiness, did not think it safe to provoke so dangerous an interrogator. He thought, too, that Saint-Aignan, in drawing the portraits, would find a means of insinuating some flattering allusions which would be agreeable to the ears of one his majesty was interested in pleasing. It was with this hope and with this fear that Louis authorized Saint-Aignan to sketch the portraits of the shepherdesses, Phyllis, Amaryllis, and Galatea.
+
+“Very well, then; be it so,” said Saint-Aignan, like a man who has made up his mind, and he began.
+
+Chapter LVII. Conclusion of the Story of a Naiad and of a Dryad.
+
+“Phyllis,” said Saint-Aignan, with a glance of defiance at Montalais, such as a fencing-master would give who invites an antagonist worthy of him to place himself on guard, “Phyllis is neither fair nor dark, neither tall nor short, neither too grave nor too gay; though but a shepherdess, she is as witty as a princess, and as coquettish as the most finished flirt that ever lived. Nothing can equal her excellent vision. Her heart yearns for everything her gaze embraces. She is like a bird, which, always warbling, at one moment skims the ground, at the next rises fluttering in pursuit of a butterfly, then rests itself upon the topmost branch of a tree, where it defies the bird-catchers either to come and seize it or to entrap it in their nets.” The portrait bore such a strong resemblance to Montalais, that all eyes were directed towards her; she, however, with her head raised, and with a steady, unmoved look, listened to Saint-Aignan, as if he were speaking of an utter stranger.
+
+“Is that all, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan?” inquired the princess.
+
+“Oh! your royal highness, the portrait is but a mere sketch, and many more additions could be made, but I fear to weary your patience, or offend the modesty of the shepherdess, and I shall therefore pass on to her companion, Amaryllis.”
+
+“Very well,” said Madame, “pass on to Amaryllis, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, we are all attention.”
+
+“Amaryllis is the eldest of the three, and yet,” Saint-Aignan hastened to add, “this advanced age does not reach twenty years.”
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who had slightly knitted her brows at the commencement of the description, unbent them with a smile.
+
+“She is tall, with an astonishing abundance of beautiful hair, which she fastens in the manner of the Grecian statues; her walk is full of majesty, her attitude haughty; she has the air, therefore, rather of a goddess than a mere mortal, and among the goddesses, she most resembles Diana the huntress; with this sole difference, however, that the cruel shepherdess, having stolen the quiver of young love, while poor Cupid was sleeping in a thicket of roses, instead of directing her arrows against the inhabitants of the forest, discharges them pitilessly against all poor shepherds who pass within reach of her bow and of her eyes.”
+
+“Oh! what a wicked shepherdess!” said Madame. “She may some day wound herself with one of those arrows she discharges, as you say, so mercilessly on all sides.”
+
+“It is the hope of shepherds, one and all!” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“And that of the shepherd Amyntas in particular, I suppose?” said Madame.
+
+“The shepherd Amyntas is so timid,” said Saint-Aignan, with the most modest air he could assume, “that if he cherishes such a hope as that, no one has ever known anything about it, for he conceals it in the very depths of his heart.” A flattering murmur of applause greeted this profession of faith on behalf of the shepherd.
+
+“And Galatea?” inquired Madame. “I am impatient to see a hand so skillful as yours continue the portrait where Virgil left it, and finish it before our eyes.”
+
+“Madame,” said Saint-Aignan, “I am indeed a poor dumb post beside the mighty Virgil. Still, encouraged by your desire, I will do my best.”
+
+Saint-Aignan extended his foot and hand, and thus began: -- “White as milk, she casts upon the breeze the perfume of her fair hair tinged with golden hues, as are the ears of corn. One is tempted to inquire if she is not the beautiful Europa, who inspired Jupiter with a tender passion as she played with her companions in the flower-spangled meadows. From her exquisite eyes, blue as azure heaven on the clearest summer day, emanates a tender light, which reverie nurtures, and love dispenses. When she frowns, or bends her looks towards the ground, the sun is veiled in token of mourning. When she smiles, on the contrary, nature resumes her jollity, and the birds, for a brief moment silenced, recommence their songs amid the leafy covert of the trees. Galatea,” said Saint-Aignan, in conclusion, “is worthy of the admiration of the whole world; and if she should ever bestow her heart upon another, happy will that man be to whom she consecrates her first affections.”
+
+Madame, who had attentively listened to the portrait Saint-Aignan had drawn, as, indeed, had all the others, contented herself with accentuating her approbation of the most poetic passage by occasional inclinations of her head; but it was impossible to say if these marks of assent were accorded to the ability of the narrator of the resemblance of the portrait. The consequence, therefore, was, that as Madame did not openly exhibit any approbation, no one felt authorized to applaud, not even Monsieur, who secretly thought that Saint-Aignan dwelt too much upon the portraits of the shepherdesses, and had somewhat slightingly passed over the portraits of the shepherds. The whole assembly seemed suddenly chilled. Saint-Aignan, who had exhausted his rhetorical skill and his palette of artistic tints in sketching the portrait of Galatea, and who, after the favor with which his other descriptions had been received, already imagined he could hear the loudest applause allotted to this last one, was himself more disappointed than the king and the rest of the company. A moment’s silence followed, which was at last broken by Madame.
+
+“Well, sir,” she inquired, “What is your majesty’s opinion of these three portraits?”
+
+The king, who wished to relieve Saint-Aignan’s embarrassment without compromising himself, replied, “Why, Amaryllis, in my opinion, is beautiful.”
+
+“For my part,” said Monsieur, “I prefer Phyllis; she is a capital girl, or rather a good-sort-of-fellow of a nymph.”
+
+A gentle laugh followed, and this time the looks were so direct, that Montalais felt herself blushing almost scarlet.
+
+“Well,” resumed Madame, “what were those shepherdesses saying to each other?”
+
+Saint-Aignan, however, whose vanity had been wounded, did not feel himself in a position to sustain an attack of new and refreshed troops, and merely said, “Madame, the shepherdesses were confiding to one another their little preferences.”
+
+“Nay, nay! Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you are a perfect stream of pastoral poesy,” said Madame, with an amiable smile, which somewhat comforted the narrator.
+
+“They confessed that love is a mighty peril, but that the absence of love is the heart’s sentence of death.”
+
+“What was the conclusion they came to?” inquired Madame.
+
+“They came to the conclusion that love was necessary.”
+
+“Very good! Did they lay down any conditions?”
+
+“That of choice, simply,” said Saint-Aignan. “I ought even to add, -- remember it is the Dryad who is speaking, -- that one of the shepherdesses, Amaryllis, I believe, was completely opposed to the necessity of loving, and yet she did not positively deny that she had allowed the image of a certain shepherd to take refuge in her heart.”
+
+“Was it Amyntas or Tyrcis?”
+
+“Amyntas, Madame,” said Saint-Aignan, modestly. “But Galatea, the gentle and soft-eyed Galatea, immediately replied, that neither Amyntas, nor Alphesiboeus, nor Tityrus, nor indeed any of the handsomest shepherds of the country, were to be compared to Tyrcis; that Tyrcis was as superior to all other men, as the oak to all other trees, as the lily in its majesty to all other flowers. She drew even such a portrait of Tyrcis that Tyrcis himself, who was listening, must have felt truly flattered at it, notwithstanding his rank as a shepherd. Thus Tyrcis and Amyntas had been distinguished by Phyllis and Galatea; and thus had the secrets of two hearts revealed beneath the shades of evening, and amid the recesses of the woods. Such, Madame, is what the Dryad related to me; she who knows all that takes place in the hollows of oaks and grassy dells; she who knows the loves of the birds, and all they wish to convey by their songs; she who understands, in fact, the language of the wind among the branches, the humming of the insect with its gold and emerald wings in the corolla of the wild-flowers; it was she who related the particulars to me, and I have repeated them.”
+
+“And now you have finished, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, have you not?” said Madame, with a smile that made the king tremble.
+
+“Quite finished,” replied Saint-Aignan, “and but too happy if I have been able to amuse your royal highness for a few moments.”
+
+“Moments which have been too brief,” replied the princess; “for you have related most admirably all you know; but, my dear Monsieur de Saint-Aignan, you have been unfortunate enough to obtain your information from one Dryad only, I believe?”
+
+“Yes, Madame, only from one, I confess.”
+
+“The fact was, that you passed by a little Naiad, who pretended to know nothing at all, and yet knew a great deal more than your Dryad, my dear comte.”
+
+“A Naiad!” repeated several voices, who began to suspect that the story had a continuation.
+
+“Of course close beside the oak you are speaking of, which, if I am not mistaken, is called the royal oak -- is it not so, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan?”
+
+Saint-Aignan and the king exchanged glances.
+
+“Yes, Madame,” the former replied.
+
+“Well, close beside the oak there is a pretty little spring, which runs murmuringly over the pebbles, between banks of forget-me-nots and daffodils.”
+
+“I believe you are correct,” said the king, with some uneasiness, and listening with some anxiety to his sister-in-law’s narrative.
+
+“Oh! there is one, I can assure you,” said Madame; “and the proof of it is, that the Naiad who resides in that little stream stopped me as I was about to come.”
+
+“Ah?” said Saint-Aignan.
+
+“Yes, indeed,” continued the princess, “and she did so in order to communicate to me many particulars Monsieur de Saint-Aignan has omitted in his recital.”
+
+“Pray relate them yourself, then,” said Monsieur, “you can relate stories in such a charming manner.” The princess bowed at the conjugal compliment paid her.
+
+“I do not possess the poetical powers of the comte, nor his ability to bring to light the smallest details.”
+
+“You will not be listened to with less interest on that account,” said the king, who already perceived that something hostile was intended in his sister-in-law’s story.
+
+“I speak, too,” continued Madame, “in the name of that poor little Naiad, who is indeed the most charming creature I ever met. Moreover, she laughed so heartily while she was telling me her story, that, in pursuance of that medical axiom that laughter is the finest physic in the world, I ask permission to laugh a little myself when I recollect her words.”
+
+The king and Saint-Aignan, who noticed spreading over many of the faces present a distant and prophetic ripple of the laughter Madame announced, finished by looking at each other, as if asking themselves whether there was not some little conspiracy concealed beneath these words. But Madame was determined to turn the knife in the wound over and over again; she therefore resumed with the air of the most perfect candor, in other words, with the most dangerous of all her airs: “Well, then, I passed that way,” she said, “and as I found beneath my steps many fresh flowers newly blown, no doubt Phyllis, Amaryllis, Galatea, and all your shepherdesses had passed the same way before me.”
+
+The king bit his lips, for the recital was becoming more and more threatening. “My little Naiad,” continued Madame, “was cooing over her quaint song in the bed of the rivulet; as I perceived that she accosted me by touching the hem of my dress, I could not think of receiving her advances ungraciously, and more particularly so, since, after all, a divinity, even though she be of a second grade, is always of greater importance than a mortal, though a princess. I thereupon accosted the Naiad, and bursting into laughter, this is what she said to me:
+
+“‘Fancy, princess...’ You understand, sire, it is the Naiad who is speaking?”
+
+The king bowed assentingly; and Madame continued: -- “‘Fancy, princess, the banks of my little stream have just witnessed a most amusing scene. Two shepherds, full of curiosity, even indiscreetly so, have allowed themselves to be mystified in a most amusing manner by three nymphs, or three shepherdesses,’ -- I beg your pardon, but I do not now remember if it was nymphs or shepherdesses she said; but it does not much matter, so we will continue.”
+
+The king, at this opening, colored visibly, and Saint-Aignan, completely losing countenance, began to open his eyes in the greatest possible anxiety.
+
+“‘The two shepherds,’ pursued my nymph, still laughing, ‘followed in the wake of the three young ladies,’ -- no, I mean, of the three nymphs; forgive me, I ought to say, of the three shepherdesses. It is not always wise to do that, for it may be awkward for those who are followed. I appeal to all the ladies present, and not one of them, I am sure, will contradict me.”
+
+The king, who was much disturbed by what he suspected was about to follow, signified his assent by a gesture.
+
+“‘But,’ continued the Naiad, ‘the shepherdesses had noticed Tyrcis and Amyntas gliding into the wood, and, by the light of the moon, they had recognized them through the grove of the trees.’ Ah, you laugh!” interrupted Madame; “wait, wait, you are not yet at the end.”
+
+The king turned pale; Saint-Aignan wiped his forehead, now dewed with perspiration. Among the groups of ladies present could be heard smothered laughter and stealthy whispers.
+
+“‘The shepherdesses, I was saying, noticing how indiscreet the two shepherds were, proceeded to sit down at the foot of the royal oak; and, when they perceived that their over-curious listeners were sufficiently near, so that not a syllable of what they might say could be lost, they addressed towards them very innocently, in the most artless manner in the world indeed, a passionate declaration, which from the vanity natural to all men, and even to the most sentimental of shepherds, seemed to the two listeners as sweet as honey.’”
+
+The king, at these words, which the assembly was unable to hear without laughing, could not restrain a flash of anger darting from his eyes. As for Saint-Aignan, he let his head fall upon his breast, and concealed, under a silly laugh, the extreme annoyance he felt.
+
+“Oh,” said the king, drawing himself up to his full height, “upon my word, that is a most amusing jest, certainly; but, really and truly, are you sure you quite understood the language of the Naiads?”
+
+“The comte, sire, pretends to have perfectly understood that of the Dryads,” retorted Madame, icily.
+
+“No doubt,” said the king; “but you know the comte has the weakness to aspire to become a member of the Academy, so that, with this object in view, he has learnt all sorts of things of which very happily you are ignorant; and it might possibly happen that the language of the Nymph of the Waters might be among the number of things you have not studied.”
+
+“Of course, sire,” replied Madame, “for facts of that nature one does not altogether rely upon one’s self alone; a woman’s ear is not infallible, so says Saint Augustine; and I, therefore, wished to satisfy myself by other opinions beside my own, and as my Naiad, who, in her character of a goddess, is polyglot, -- is not that the expression, M. de Saint-Aignan?”
+
+“I believe so,” said the latter, quite out of countenance.
+
+“Well,” continued the princess, “as my Naiad, who, in her character of a goddess, had, at first spoken to me in English, I feared, as you suggest, that I might have misunderstood her, and I requested Mesdemoiselles de Montalais, de Tonnay-Charente, and de la Valliere, to come to me, begging my Naiad to repeat to me in the French language, the recital she had already communicated to me in English.”
+
+“And did she do so?” inquired the king.
+
+“Oh, she is the most polite divinity it is possible to imagine! Yes, sire, she did so; so that no doubt whatever remains on the subject. Is it not so, young ladies?” said the princess, turning towards the left of her army; “did not the Naiad say precisely what I have related, and have I, in any one particular, exceeded the truth, Phyllis? I beg your pardon, I mean Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais?”
+
+“Precisely as you have stated, Madame,” articulated Mademoiselle de Montalais, very distinctly.
+
+“Is it true, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente?”
+
+“The perfect truth,” replied Athenais, in a voice quite as firm, but not yet so distinct.
+
+“And you, La Valliere?” asked Madame.
+
+The poor girl felt the king’s ardent look fixed upon her, -- she dared not deny -- she dared not tell a falsehood; she merely bowed her head; and everybody took it for a token of assent. Her head, however, was not raised again, chilled as she was by a coldness more bitter than that of death. This triple testimony overwhelmed the king. As for Saint-Aignan, he did not even attempt to dissemble his despair, and, hardly knowing what he said, he stammered out, “An excellent jest! admirably played!”
+
+“A just punishment for curiosity,” said the king, in a hoarse voice. “Oh! who would think, after the chastisement that Tyrcis and Amyntas had suffered, of endeavoring to surprise what is passing in the heart of shepherdesses? Assuredly I shall not, for one; and, you, gentlemen?”
+
+“Nor I! nor I!” repeated, in a chorus, the group of courtiers.
+
+Madame was filled with triumph at the king’s annoyance; and was full of delight, thinking that her story had been, or was to be, the termination of the whole affair. As for Monsieur, who had laughed at the two stories without comprehending anything about them, he turned towards De Guiche, and said to him, “Well, comte, you say nothing; can you not find something to say? Do you pity M. Tyrcis and M. Amyntas, for instance?”
+
+“I pity them with all my soul,” replied De Guiche; “for, in very truth, love is so sweet a fancy, that to lose it, fancy though it may be, is to lose more than life itself. If, therefore, these two shepherds thought themselves beloved, -- if they were happy in that idea, and if, instead of that happiness, they meet not only that empty void which resembles death, but jeers and jests at love itself, which is worse than a thousand deaths, -- in that case, I say that Tyrcis and Amyntas are the two most unhappy men I know.”
+
+“And you are right, too, Monsieur de Guiche,” said the king; “for, in fact, the injury in question is a very hard return for a little harmless curiosity.”
+
+“That is as much to say, then, that the story of my Naiad has displeased the king?” asked Madame, innocently.
+
+“Nay, Madame, undeceive yourself,” said Louis, taking the princess by the hand; “your Naiad, on the contrary, has pleased me, and the more so, because she was so truthful, and because her tale, I ought to add, is confirmed by the testimony of unimpeachable witnesses.”
+
+These words fell upon La Valliere, accompanied by a look that on one, from Socrates to Montaigne, could have exactly defined. The look and the king’s remark succeeded in overpowering the unhappy girl, who, with her head upon Montalais’s shoulder, seemed to have fainted away. The king rose, without remarking this circumstance, of which no one, moreover, took any notice, and, contrary to his usual custom, for generally he remained late in Madame’s apartments, he took his leave, and retired to his own side of the palace. Saint-Aignan followed him, leaving the rooms in as much despair as he had entered them with delight. Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, less sensitive than La Valliere, was not much frightened, and did not faint. However, it may be that the last look of Saint-Aignan had hardly been so majestic as the king’s.
+
+Chapter LVIII. Royal Psychology.
+
+The king returned to his apartments with hurried steps. The reason he walked as fast as he did was probably to avoid tottering in his gait. He seemed to leave behind him as he went along a trace of a mysterious sorrow. That gayety of manner, which every one had remarked in him on his arrival, and which they had been delighted to perceive, had not perhaps been understood in its true sense: but his stormy departure, his disordered countenance, all knew, or at least thought they could tell the reason of. Madame’s levity of manner, her somewhat bitter jests, -- bitter for persons of a sensitive disposition, and particularly for one of the king’s character; the great resemblance which naturally existed between the king and an ordinary mortal, were among the reasons assigned for the precipitate and unexpected departure of his majesty. Madame, keen-sighted enough in other respects, did not, however, at first see anything extraordinary in it. It was quite sufficient for her to have inflicted some slight wound upon the vanity or self-esteem of one who, so soon forgetting the engagements he had contracted, seemed to have undertaken to disdain, without cause, the noblest and highest prize in France. It was not an unimportant matter for Madame, in the present position of affairs, to let the king perceive the difference which existed between the bestowal of his affections on one in a high station, and the running after each passing fancy, like a youth fresh from the provinces. With regard to those higher placed affections, recognizing their dignity and their illimitable influence, acknowledging in them a certain etiquette and display -- a monarch not only did not act in a manner derogatory to his high position, but found even repose, security, mystery, and general respect therein. On the contrary, in the debasement of a common or humble attachment, he would encounter, even among his meanest subjects, carping and sarcastic remarks; he would forfeit his character of infallibility and inviolability. Having descended to the region of petty human miseries, he would be subjected to paltry contentions. In one word, to convert the royal divinity into a mere mortal by striking at his heart, or rather even at his face, like the meanest of his subjects, was to inflict a terrible blow upon the pride of that generous nature. Louis was more easily captivated by vanity than affection. Madame had wisely calculated her vengeance, and it has been seen, also, in what manner she carried it out. Let it not be supposed, however, that Madame possessed such terrible passions as the heroines of the middle ages, or that she regarded things from a pessimistic point of view; on the contrary, Madame, young, amiable, of cultivated intellect, coquettish, loving in her nature, but rather from fancy, or imagination, or ambition, than from her heart -- Madame, we say, on the contrary, inaugurated that epoch of light and fleeting amusements, which distinguished the hundred and twenty years that intervened between the middle of the seventeenth century, and the last quarter of the eighteenth. Madame saw, therefore, or rather fancied she saw, things under their true aspect; she knew that the king, her august brother-in-law, had been the first to ridicule the humble La Valliere, and that, in accordance with his usual custom, it was hardly probable he would ever love the person who had excited his laughter, even had it been only for a moment. Moreover, was not her vanity ever present, that evil influence which plays so important a part in that comedy of dramatic incidents called the life of a woman? Did not her vanity tell her, aloud, in a subdued voice, in a whisper, in every variety of tone, that she could not, in reality, she a princess, young, beautiful, and rich, be compared to the poor La Valliere, as youthful as herself it is true, but far less pretty, certainly, and utterly without money, protectors, or position? And surprise need not be excited with respect to Madame; for it is known that the greatest characters are those who flatter themselves the most in the comparisons they draw between themselves and others, between others and themselves. It may perhaps be asked what was Madame’s motive for an attack so skillfully conceived and executed. Why was there such a display of forces, if it were not seriously her intention to dislodge the king from a heart that had never been occupied before, in which he seemed disposed to take refuge? Was there any necessity, then, for Madame to attach so great an importance to La Valliere, if she did not fear her? Yet Madame did not fear La Valliere in that direction in which an historian, who knows everything, sees into the future, or rather, the past. Madame was neither a prophetess nor a sibyl; nor could she, any more than another, read what was written in that terrible and fatal book of the future, which records in its most secret pages the most serious events. No, Madame desired simply to punish the king for having availed himself of secret means altogether feminine in their nature; she wished to prove to him that if he made use of offensive weapons of that nature, she, a woman of ready wit and high descent, would assuredly discover in the arsenal of her imagination defensive weapons proof even against the thrusts of a monarch. Moreover, she wished him to learn that, in a war of that description, kings are held of no account, or, at all events, that kings who fight on their own behalf, like ordinary individuals, may witness the fall of their crown in the first encounter; and that, in fact, if he had expected to be adored by all the ladies of the court from the very first, from a confident reliance on his mere appearance, it was a pretension which was most preposterous and insulting even, for certain persons who filled a higher position than others, and that a lesson taught in season to this royal personage, who assumed too high and haughty a carriage, would be rendering him a great service. Such, indeed, were Madame’s reflections with respect to the king. The sequel itself was not thought of. And in this manner, it will be seen that she had exercised all her influence over the minds of her maids of honor, and with all its accompanying details, had arranged the comedy which had just been acted. The king was completely bewildered by it; for the first time since he had escaped from the trammels of M. de Mazarin, he found himself treated as a man. Similar severity from any of his subjects would have been at once resisted by him. Strength comes with battle. But to match one’s self with women, to be attacked by them, to have been imposed upon by mere girls from the country, who had come from Blois expressly for that purpose; it was the depth of dishonor for a young sovereign full of the pride his personal advantages and royal power inspired him with. There was nothing he could do -- neither reproaches, nor exile -- nor could he even show the annoyance he felt. To manifest vexation would have been to admit that he had been touched, like Hamlet, by a sword from which the button had been removed -- the sword of ridicule. To show animosity against women -- humiliation! especially when the women in question have laughter on their side, as a means of vengeance. If, instead of leaving all the responsibility of the affair to these women, one of the courtiers had had anything to do with the intrigue, how delightedly would Louis have seized the opportunity of turning the Bastile to personal account. But there, again, the king’s anger paused, checked by reason. To be the master of armies, of prisons, of an almost divine authority, and to exert such majesty and might in the service of a petty grudge, would be unworthy not only of a monarch, but even of a man. It was necessary, therefore, simply to swallow the affront in silence, and to wear his usual gentleness and graciousness of expression. It was essential to treat Madame as a friend. As a friend! -- Well, and why not? Either Madame had been the instigator of the affair, or the affair itself had found her passive. If she had been the instigator of it, it certainly was a bold measure on her part, but, at all events, it was but natural in her. Who was it that had sought her in the earliest moments of her married life to whisper words of love in her ear? Who was it that had dared to calculate the possibility of committing a crime against the marriage vow -- a crime, too, still more deplorable on account of the relationship between them? Who was it that, shielded behind his royal authority, had said to this young creature: be not afraid, love but the king of France, who is above all, and a movement of whose sceptered hand will protect you against all attacks, even from your own remorse? And she had listened to and obeyed the royal voice, had been influenced by his ensnaring tones; and when, morally speaking, she had sacrificed her honor in listening to him, she saw herself repaid for her sacrifice by an infidelity the more humiliating, since it was occasioned by a woman far beneath her in the world.
+
+Had Madame, therefore, been the instigator of the revenge, she would have been right. If, on the contrary, she had remained passive in the whole affair, what grounds had the king to be angry with her on that account? Was it for her to restrain, or rather could she restrain, the chattering of a few country girls? and was it for her, by an excess of zeal that might have been misinterpreted, to check, at the risk of increasing it, the impertinence of their conduct? All these various reasonings were like so many actual stings to the king’s pride; but when he had carefully, in his own mind, gone over all the various causes of complaint, Louis was surprised, upon due reflection -- in other words, after the wound has been dressed -- to find that there were other causes of suffering, secret, unendurable, and unrevealed. There was one circumstance he dared not confess, even to himself; namely, that the acute pain from which he was suffering had its seat in his heart. The fact is, he had permitted his heart to be gratified by La Valliere’s innocent confusion. He had dreamed of a pure affection -- of an affection for Louis the man, and not the sovereign -- of an affection free from all self-interest; and his heart, simpler and more youthful than he had imagined it to be, had to meet that other heart that had revealed itself to him by its aspirations. The commonest thing in the complicated history of love, is the double inoculation of love to which any two hearts are subjected; the one loves nearly always before the other, in the same way that the latter finishes nearly always by loving after the other. In this way, the electric current is established, in proportion to the intensity of the passion which is first kindled. The more Mademoiselle de la Valliere showed her affection, the more the king’s affection had increased. And it was precisely that which had annoyed his majesty. For it was now fairly demonstrated to him, that no sympathetic current had been the means of hurrying his heart away in its course, because there had been no confession of love in the case -- because the confession was, in fact, an insult towards the man and towards the sovereign; and finally, because -- and the word, too, burnt like a hot iron -- because, in fact, it was nothing but a mystification after all. This girl, therefore, who, in strictness, could not lay claim to beauty, or birth, or great intelligence -- who had been selected by Madame herself, on account of her unpretending position, had not only aroused the king’s regard, but had, moreover, treated him with disdain -- he, the king, a man who, like an eastern potentate, had but to bestow a glance, to indicate with his finger, to throw his handkerchief. And, since the previous evening, his mind had been so absorbed with this girl that he could think and dream of nothing else. Since the previous evening his imagination had been occupied by clothing her image with charms to which she could not lay claim. In very truth, he whom such vast interests summoned, and whom so many women smiled upon invitingly, had, since the previous evening, consecrated every moment of his time, every throb of his heart, to this sole dream. It was, indeed, either too much, or not sufficient. The indignation of the king, making him forget everything, and, among others, that Saint-Aignan was present, was poured out in the most violent imprecations. True it is, that Saint-Aignan had taken refuge in a corner of the room; and from his corner, regarded the tempest passing over. His own personal disappointment seemed contemptible, in comparison with the anger of the king. He compared with his own petty vanity the prodigious pride of offended majesty; and, being well read in the hearts of kings in general, and in those of powerful kings in particular, he began to ask himself if this weight of anger, as yet held in suspense, would not soon terminate by falling upon his own head, for the very reason that others were guilty, and he innocent. In point of fact, the king, all at once, did arrest his hurried pace; and, fixing a look full of anger upon Saint-Aignan, suddenly cried out: “And you, Saint-Aignan?”
+
+Saint-Aignan made a sign which was intended to signify, “Well, sire?”
+
+“Yes; you have been as silly as myself, I think.”
+
+“Sire,” stammered out Saint-Aignan.
+
+“You permitted us to be deceived by this shameless trick.”
+
+“Sire,” said Saint-Aignan, whose agitation was such as to make him tremble in every limb, “let me entreat your majesty not to exasperate yourself. Women, you know, are characters full of imperfections, created for the misfortune of mankind: to expect anything good from them is to require them to perform impossibilities.”
+
+The king, who had the greatest consideration for himself, and who had begun to acquire over his emotions that command which he preserved over them all his life, perceived that he was doing an outrage to his own dignity in displaying so much animosity about so trifling an object. “No,” he said, hastily; “you are mistaken, Saint-Aignan; I am not angry; I can only wonder that we should have been turned into ridicule so cleverly and with such audacity by these young girls. I am particularly surprised that, although we might have informed ourselves accurately on the subject, we were silly enough to leave the matter for our own hearts to decide.”
+
+“The heart, sire, is an organ which requires positively to be reduced to its material functions, but which, for the sake of humanity’s peace of mind, should be deprived of all its metaphysical inclinations. For my own part, I confess, when I saw that your majesty’s heart was so taken up by this little -- ”
+
+“My heart taken up! I! My mind might, perhaps, have been so; but as for my heart, it was -- ” Louis again perceived that, in order to fill one gulf, he was about to dig another. “Besides,” he added, “I have no fault to find with the girl. I was quite aware that she was in love with some one else.”
+
+“The Vicomte de Bragelonne. I informed your majesty of the circumstance.”
+
+“You did so: but you were not the first who told me. The Comte de la Fere had solicited from me Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s hand for his son. And, on his return from England, the marriage shall be celebrated, since they love each other.”
+
+“I recognize your majesty’s great generosity of disposition in that act.”
+
+“So, Saint-Aignan, we will cease to occupy ourselves with these matters any longer,” said Louis.
+
+“Yes, we will digest the affront, sire,” replied the courtier, with resignation.
+
+“Besides, it will be an easy matter to do so,” said the king, checking a sigh.
+
+“And, by way of a beginning, I will set about the composition of an epigram upon all three of them. I will call it ‘The Naiad and Dryad,’ which will please Madame.”
+
+“Do so, Saint-Aignan, do so,” said the king, indifferently. “You shall read me your verses; they will amuse me. Ah! it does not signify, Saint-Aignan,” added the king, like a man breathing with difficulty, “the blow requires more than human strength to support in a dignified manner.” As the king thus spoke, assuming an air of the most angelic patience, one of the servants in attendance knocked gently at the door. Saint-Aignan drew aside, out of respect.
+
+“Come in,” said the king. The servant partially opened the door. “What is it?” inquired Louis.
+
+The servant held out a letter of a triangular shape. “For your majesty,” he said.
+
+“From whom?”
+
+“I do not know. One of the officers on duty gave it to me.”
+
+The valet, in obedience to a gesture of the king, handed him the letter. The king advanced towards the candles, opened the note, read the signature, and uttered a loud cry. Saint-Aignan was sufficiently respectful not to look on; but, without looking on, he saw and heard all, and ran towards the king, who with a gesture dismissed the servant. “Oh, heavens!” said the king, as he read the note.
+
+“Is your majesty unwell?” inquired Saint-Aignan, stretching forward his arms.
+
+“No, no, Saint-Aignan -- read!” and he handed him the note.
+
+Saint-Aignan’s eyes fell upon the signature. “La Valliere!” he exclaimed. “Oh, sire!”
+
+“Read, read!”
+
+And Saint-Aignan read:
+
+“Forgive my importunity, sire; and forgive, also, the absence of the formalities which may be wanting in this letter. A note seems to be more speedy and more urgent than a dispatch. I venture, therefore, to address this note to your majesty. I have retired to my own room, overcome with grief and fatigue, sire; and I implore your majesty to grant me the favor of an audience, which will enable me to confess the truth to my sovereign.
+
+“LOUISE de la VALLIERE.”
+
+“Well?” asked the king, taking the letter from Saint-Aignan’s hands, who was completely bewildered by what he had just read.
+
+“Well!” repeated Saint-Aignan.
+
+“What do you think of it?”
+
+“I hardly know.”
+
+“Still, what is your opinion?”
+
+“Sire, the young lady must have heard the muttering of the thunder, and has got frightened.”
+
+“Frightened at what?” asked Louis with dignity.
+
+“Why, your majesty has a thousand reasons to be angry with the author or authors of so hazardous a joke; and, if your majesty’s memory were to be awakened in a disagreeable sense, it would be a perpetual menace hanging over the head of this imprudent girl.”
+
+“Saint-Aignan, I do not think as you do.”
+
+“Your majesty doubtless sees more clearly than myself.”
+
+“Well! I see affliction and restraint in these lines; more particularly since I recall some of the details of the scene which took place this evening in Madame’s apartments -- ” The king suddenly stopped, leaving his meaning unexpressed.
+
+“In fact,” resumed Saint-Aignan, “your majesty will grant an audience; nothing is clearer than that.”
+
+“I will do better, Saint-Aignan.”
+
+“What is that, sire?”
+
+“Put on your cloak.”
+
+“But, sire -- ”
+
+“You know the suite of rooms where Madame’s maids of honor are lodged?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“You know some means of obtaining an entrance there.”
+
+“As far as that is concerned, I do not.”
+
+“At all events, you must be acquainted with some one there.”
+
+“Really, your majesty is the source of every good idea.”
+
+“You do know some one, then. Who is it?”
+
+“I know a certain gentleman, who is on very good terms with a certain young lady there.”
+
+“One of the maids of honor?”
+
+“Yes, sire.”
+
+“With Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, I suppose?” said the king, laughing.
+
+“Fortunately, no, sire; with Montalais.”
+
+“What is his name?”
+
+“Malicorne.”
+
+“And you can depend on him?”
+
+“I believe so, sire. He ought to have a key of some sort in his possession; and if he should happen to have one, as I have done him a service, why, he will let us have it.”
+
+“Nothing could be better. Let us set off immediately.”
+
+The king threw his cloak over Saint-Aignan’s shoulders, asked him for his, and both went out into the vestibule.
+
+Chapter LIX. Something That neither Naiad nor Dryad Foresaw.
+
+Saint-Aignan stopped at the foot of the staircase leading to the entresol, where the maids of honor were lodged, and to the first floor, where Madame’s apartments were situated. Then, by means of one of the servants who was passing, he sent to apprise Malicorne, who was still with Monsieur. After having waited ten minutes, Malicorne arrived, full of self-importance. The king drew back towards the darkest part of the vestibule. Saint-Aignan, on the contrary, advanced to meet him, but at the first words, indicating his wish, Malicorne drew back abruptly.
+
+“Oh, oh!” he said, “you want me to introduce you into the rooms of the maids of honor?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You know very well that I cannot do anything of the kind, without being made acquainted with your object.”
+
+“Unfortunately, my dear Monsieur Malicorne, it is quite impossible for me to give you any explanation; you must therefore confide in me as in a friend who got you out of a great difficulty yesterday, and who now begs you to draw him out of one to-day.”
+
+“Yet I told you, monsieur, what my object was; which was, not to sleep out in the open air, and any man might express the same wish, whilst you, however, admit nothing.”
+
+“Believe me, my dear Monsieur Malicorne,” Saint-Aignan persisted, “that if I were permitted to explain myself, I would do so.”
+
+“In that case, my dear monsieur, it is impossible for me to allow you to enter Mademoiselle de Montalais’s apartment.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“You know why, better than any one else, since you caught me on the wall paying my addresses to Mademoiselle de Montalais; it would, therefore, be an excess of kindness on my part, you will admit, since I am paying my attentions to her, to open the door of her room to you.”
+
+“But who told you it was on her account I asked you for the key?”
+
+“For whom, then?”
+
+“She does not lodge there alone, I suppose?”
+
+“No, certainly; for Mademoiselle de la Valliere shares her rooms with her; but, really, you have nothing more to do with Mademoiselle de la Valliere than with Mademoiselle de Montalais, and there are only two men to whom I would give this key; to M. de Bragelonne, if he begged me to give it to him, and to the king, if he commanded me.”
+
+“In that case, give me the key, monsieur: I order you to do so,” said the king, advancing from the obscurity, and partially opening his cloak. “Mademoiselle de Montalais will step down to talk with you, while we go up-stairs to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for, in fact, it is she only whom we desire to see.”
+
+“The king!” exclaimed Malicorne, bowing to the very ground.
+
+“Yes, the king,” said Louis, smiling: “the king, who is as pleased with your resistance as with your capitulation. Rise, monsieur, and render us the service we request of you.”
+
+“I obey, your majesty,” said Malicorne, leading the way up the staircase.
+
+“Get Mademoiselle de Montalais to come down,” said the king, “and do not breathe a word to her of my visit.”
+
+Malicorne bowed in token of obedience, and proceeded up the staircase. But the king, after a hasty reflection, followed him, and that, too, with such rapidity, that, although Malicorne was already more than half-way up the staircase, the king reached the room at the same moment. He then observed, by the door which remained half-opened behind Malicorne, La Valliere, sitting in an armchair with her head thrown back, and in the opposite corner Montalais, who, in her dressing-gown, was standing before a looking-glass, engaged in arranging her hair, and parleying the while with Malicorne. The king hurriedly opened the door and entered the room. Montalais called out at the noise made by the opening of the door, and, recognizing the king, made her escape. La Valliere rose from her seat, like a dead person galvanized, and then fell back in her armchair. The king advanced slowly towards her.
+
+“You wished for an audience, I believe,” he said coldly. “I am ready to hear you. Speak.”
+
+Saint-Aignan, faithful to his character of being deaf, blind, and dumb, had stationed himself in a corner of the door, upon a stool which by chance he found there. Concealed by the tapestry which covered the doorway, and leaning his back against the wall, he could thus listen without being seen; resigning himself to the post of a good watch-dog, who patiently waits and watches without ever getting in his master’s way.
+
+La Valliere, terror-stricken at the king’s irritated aspect, rose a second time, and assuming a posture full of humility and entreaty, murmured, “Forgive me, sire.”
+
+“What need is there for my forgiveness?” asked Louis.
+
+“Sire, I have been guilty of a great fault; nay, more than a great fault, a great crime.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Sire, I have offended your majesty.”
+
+“Not in the slightest degree in the world,” replied Louis XIV.
+
+“I implore you, sire, not to maintain towards me that terrible seriousness of manner which reveals your majesty’s just anger. I feel I have offended you, sire; but I wish to explain to you how it was that I have not offended you of my own accord.”
+
+“In the first place,” said the king, “in what way can you possibly have offended me? I cannot perceive how. Surely not on account of a young girl’s harmless and very innocent jest? You turned the credulity of a young man into ridicule -- it was very natural to do so: any other woman in your place would have done the same.”
+
+“Oh! your majesty overwhelms me by your remark.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because, if I had been the author of the jest, it would not have been innocent.”
+
+“Well, is that all you had to say to me in soliciting an audience?” said the king, as though about to turn away.
+
+Thereupon La Valliere, in an abrupt and a broken voice, her eyes dried up by the fire of her tears, made a step towards the king, and said, “Did your majesty hear everything?”
+
+“Everything, what?”
+
+“Everything I said beneath the royal oak.”
+
+“I did not lose a syllable.”
+
+“And now, after your majesty really heard all, are you able to think I abused your credibility?”
+
+“Credulity; yes, indeed, you have selected the very word.”
+
+“And your majesty did not suppose that a poor girl like myself might possibly be compelled to submit to the will of others?”
+
+“Forgive me,” returned the king; “but I shall never be able to understand that she, who of her own free will could express herself so unreservedly beneath the royal oak, would allow herself to be influenced to such an extent by the direction of others.”
+
+“But the threat held out against me, sire.”
+
+“Threat! who threatened you -- who dared to threaten you?”
+
+“Those who have the right to do so, sire.”
+
+“I do not recognize any one as possessing the right to threaten the humblest of my subjects.”
+
+“Forgive me, sire, but near your majesty, even, there are persons sufficiently high in position to have, or to believe that they possess, the right of injuring a young girl, without fortune, and possessing only her reputation.”
+
+“In what way injure her?”
+
+“In depriving her of her reputation, by disgracefully expelling her from the court.”
+
+“Oh! Mademoiselle de la Valliere,” said the king bitterly, “I prefer those persons who exculpate themselves without incriminating others.”
+
+“Sire!”
+
+“Yes; and I confess that I greatly regret to perceive, that an easy justification, as your own would have been, is now complicated in my presence by a tissue of reproaches and imputations against others.”
+
+“And which you do not believe?” exclaimed La Valliere. The king remained silent.
+
+“Nay, but tell me!” repeated La Valliere, vehemently.
+
+“I regret to confess it,” repeated the king, bowing coldly.
+
+The young girl uttered a deep groan, striking her hands together in despair. “You do not believe me, then,” she said to the king, who still remained silent, while poor La Valliere’s features became visibly changed at his continued silence. “Therefore, you believe,” she said, “that I pre-arranged this ridiculous, this infamous plot, of trifling, in so shameless a manner, with your majesty.”
+
+“Nay,” said the king, “it was neither ridiculous nor infamous; it was not even a plot; merely a jest, more or less amusing, and nothing more.”
+
+“Oh!” murmured the young girl, “the king does not, and will not believe me, then?”
+
+“No, indeed, I will not believe you,” said the king. “Besides, in point of fact, what can be more natural? The king, you argue, follows me, listens to me, watches me; the king wishes perhaps to amuse himself at my expense, I will amuse myself at his, and as the king is very tender-hearted, I will take his heart by storm.”
+
+La Valliere hid her face in her hands, as she stifled her sobs. The king continued pitilessly; he was revenging himself upon the poor victim before him for all he had himself suffered.
+
+“Let us invent, then, this story of my loving him and preferring him to others. The king is so simple and so conceited that he will believe me; and then we can go and tell others how credulous the king is, and can enjoy a laugh at his expense.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed La Valliere, “you think that, you believe that! -- it is frightful.”
+
+“And,” pursued the king, “that is not all; if this self-conceited prince take our jest seriously, if he should be imprudent enough to exhibit before others anything like delight at it, well, in that case, the king will be humiliated before the whole court; and what a delightful story it will be, too, for him to whom I am really attached, in fact part of my dowry for my husband, to have the adventure to relate of the monarch who was so amusingly deceived by a young girl.”
+
+“Sire!” exclaimed La Valliere, her mind bewildered, almost wandering, indeed, “not another word, I implore you; do you not see that you are killing me?”
+
+“A jest, nothing but a jest,” murmured the king, who, however, began to be somewhat affected.
+
+La Valliere fell upon her knees, and that so violently, that the sound could be heard upon the hard floor. “Sire,” she said, “I prefer shame to disloyalty.”
+
+“What do you mean?” inquired the king, without moving a step to raise the young girl from her knees.
+
+“Sire, when I shall have sacrificed my honor and my reason both to you, you will perhaps believe in my loyalty. The tale which was related to you in Madame’s apartments, and by Madame herself, is utterly false; and that which I said beneath the great oak -- ”
+
+“Well!”
+
+“That is the only truth.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed the king.
+
+“Sire,” exclaimed La Valliere, hurried away by the violence of her emotions, “were I to die of shame on the very spot where my knees are fixed, I would repeat it until my latest breath; I said that I loved you, and it is true; I do love you.”
+
+“You!”
+
+“I have loved you, sire, from the very first day I ever saw you; from the moment when at Blois, where I was pining away my existence, your royal looks, full of light and life, were first bent upon me. I love you still, sire; it is a crime of high treason, I know, that a poor girl like myself should love her sovereign, and should presume to tell him so. Punish me for my audacity, despise me for my shameless immodesty; but do not ever say, do not ever think, that I have jested with or deceived you. I belong to a family whose loyalty has been proved, sire, and I, too, love my king.”
+
+Suddenly her strength, voice, and respiration ceased, and she fell forward, like the flower Virgil alludes to, which the scythe of the reaper severed in the midst of the grass. The king, at these words, at this vehement entreaty, no longer retained any ill-will or doubt in his mind: his whole heart seemed to expand at the glowing breath of an affection which proclaimed itself in such noble and courageous language. When, therefore, he heard the passionate confession, his strength seemed to fail him, and he hid his face in his hands. But when he felt La Valliere’s hands clinging to his own, when their warm pressure fired his blood, he bent forward, and passing his arm round La Valliere’s waist, he raised her from the ground and pressed her against his heart. But she, her drooping head fallen forward on her bosom, seemed to have ceased to live. The king, terrified, called out for Saint-Aignan. Saint-Aignan, who had carried his discretion so far as to remain without stirring in his corner, pretending to wipe away a tear, ran forward at the king’s summons. He then assisted Louis to seat the young girl upon a couch, slapped her hands, sprinkled some Hungary water over her face, calling out all the while, “Come, come, it is all over; the king believes you, and forgives you. There, there now! take care, or you will agitate his majesty too much; his majesty is so sensitive, so tender-hearted. Now, really, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, you must pay attention, for the king is very pale.”
+
+The fact was, the king was visibly losing color. But La Valliere did not move.
+
+“Do pray recover,” continued Saint-Aignan. “I beg, I implore you; it is really time you should; think only of one thing, that if the king should become unwell, I should be obliged to summon his physician. What a state of things that would be! So do pray rouse yourself; make an effort, pray do, and do so at once, my dear.”
+
+It was difficult to display more persuasive eloquence than Saint-Aignan did, but something still more powerful, and of a more energetic nature than this eloquence, aroused La Valliere. The king, who was kneeling before her, covered the palms of her hands with those burning kisses which are to the hands what a kiss upon the lips is to the face. La Valliere’s senses returned to her; she languidly opened her eyes and, with a dying look, murmured, “Oh! sire, has your majesty pardoned me, then?”
+
+The king did not reply, for he was still too much overcome. Saint-Aignan thought it was his duty again to retire, for he observed the passionate devotion which was displayed in the king’s gaze. La Valliere rose.
+
+“And now, sire, that I have justified myself, at least I trust so, in your majesty’s eyes, grant me leave to retire into a convent. I shall bless your majesty all my life, and I shall die thanking and loving Heaven for having granted me one hour of perfect happiness.”
+
+“No, no,” replied the king, “you will live here blessing Heaven, on the contrary, but loving Louis, who will make your existence one of perfect felicity -- Louis who loves you -- Louis who swears it.”
+
+“Oh! sire, sire!”
+
+And upon this doubt of La Valliere, the king’s kisses became so warm that Saint-Aignan thought it was his duty to retire behind the tapestry. These kisses, however, which she had not the strength at first to resist, began to intimidate the young girl.
+
+“Oh! sire,” she exclaimed, “do not make me repeat my loyalty, for this would show me that your majesty despises me still.”
+
+“Mademoiselle de la Valliere,” said the king, suddenly, drawing back with an air full of respect, “there is nothing in the world that I love and honor more than yourself, and nothing in my court, I call Heaven to witness, shall be so highly regarded as you shall be henceforward. I entreat your forgiveness for my transport; it arose from an excess of affection, but I can prove to you that I love you more than ever by respecting you as much as you can possibly desire or deserve.” Then, bending before her, and taking her by the hand, he said to her, “Will you honor me by accepting the kiss I press upon your hand?” And the king’s lips were pressed respectfully and lightly upon the young girl’s trembling hand. “Henceforth,” added Louis, rising and bending his glance upon La Valliere, “henceforth you are under my safeguard. Do not speak to any one of the injury I have done you, forgive others that which they may have attempted. For the future, you shall be so far above all those, that, far from inspiring you with fear, they shall be even beneath your pity.” And he bowed as reverently as though he were leaving a place of worship. Then calling to Saint-Aignan, who approached with great humility, he said, “I hope, comte, that Mademoiselle de la Valliere will kindly confer a little of her friendship upon you, in return for that which I have vowed to her eternally.”
+
+Saint-Aignan bent his knee before La Valliere, saying, “How happy, indeed, would such an honor make me!”
+
+“I will send your companion back to you,” said the king. “Farewell! or, rather, adieu till we meet again; do not forget me in your prayers, I entreat.”
+
+“Oh!” cried La Valliere, “be assured that you and Heaven are in my heart together.”
+
+These words of Louise elated the king, who, full of happiness, hurried Saint-Aignan down the stairs. Madame had not anticipated this denouement; and neither the Naiad nor the Dryad had breathed a word about it.
+
+Chapter LX. The New General of the Jesuits.
+
+While La Valliere and the king were mingling, in their first confession of love, all the bitterness of the past, the happiness of the present, and hopes of the future, Fouquet had retired to the apartments which had been assigned to him in the chateau, and was conversing with Aramis precisely upon the very subjects which the king at that moment was forgetting.
+
+“Now tell me,” said Fouquet, after having installed his guest in an armchair and seated himself by his side, “tell me, Monsieur d’Herblay, what is our position with regard to the Belle-Isle affair, and whether you have received any news about it.”
+
+“Everything is going on in that direction as we wish,” replied Aramis; “the expenses have been paid, and nothing has transpired of our designs.”
+
+“But what about the soldiers the king wished to send there?”
+
+“I have received news this morning they arrived there fifteen days ago.”
+
+“And how have they been treated?”
+
+“In the best manner possible.”
+
+“What has become of the former garrison?”
+
+“The soldiers were landed at Sarzeau, and then transferred immediately to Quimper.”
+
+“And the new garrison?”
+
+“Belongs to us from this very moment.”
+
+“Are you sure of what you say, my dear Monsieur de Vannes?”
+
+“Quite sure, and, moreover, you will see by and by how matters have turned out.”
+
+“Still you are very well aware, that, of all the garrison towns, Belle-Isle is precisely the very worst.”
+
+“I know it, and have acted accordingly; no space to move about, no gayety, no cheerful society, no gambling permitted: well, it is a great pity,” added Aramis, with one of those smiles so peculiar to him, “to see how much young people at the present day seek amusement, and how much, consequently, they incline to the man who procures and pays for their favorite pastimes.”
+
+“But if they amuse themselves at Bell-Isle?”
+
+“If they amuse themselves through the king’s means, they will attach themselves to the king; but if they get bored to death through the king’s means, and amuse themselves through M. Fouquet, they will attach themselves to M. Fouquet.”
+
+“And you informed my intendant, of course? -- so that immediately on their arrival -- ”
+
+“By no means; they were left alone a whole week, to weary themselves at their ease; but, at the end of the week, they cried out, saying that former officers amused themselves much better. Whereupon they were told that the old officers had been able to make a friend of M. Fouquet, and that M. Fouquet, knowing them to be friends of his, had from that moment done all he possibly could to prevent their getting wearied or bored upon his estates. Upon this they began to reflect. Immediately afterwards, however, the intendant added, that without anticipating M. Fouquet’s orders, he knew his master sufficiently well to be aware that he took an interest in every gentleman in the king’s service, and that, although he did not know the new-comers, he would do as much for them as he had done for the others.”
+
+“Excellent! and I trust that the promises were followed up; I desire, as you know, that no promise should ever be made in my name without being kept.”
+
+“Without a moment’s loss of time, our two privateers, and your own horses, were placed at the disposal of the officers; the keys of the principal mansion were handed over to them, so that they made up hunting-parties, and walking excursions with such ladies as are to be found in Belle-Isle; and such other as they are enabled to enlist from the neighborhood, who have no fear of sea-sickness.”
+
+“And there is a fair sprinkling to be met with at Sarzeau and Vannes, I believe, your eminence?”
+
+“Yes; in fact all along the coast,” said Aramis, quietly.
+
+“And now, how about the soldiers?”
+
+“Everything precisely the same, in a relative degree, you understand; the soldiers have plenty of wine, excellent provisions, and good pay.”
+
+“Very good; so that -- ”
+
+“So that this garrison can be depended upon, and it is a better one than the last.”
+
+“Good.”
+
+“The result is, if Fortune favors us, so that the garrisons are changed in this manner, only every two months, that, at the end of every three years, the whole army will, in its turn, have been there; and, therefore, instead of having one regiment in our favor, we shall have fifty thousand men.”
+
+“Yes, yes; I knew perfectly well,” said Fouquet, “that no friend could be more incomparable and invaluable than yourself, my dear Monsieur d’Herblay; but,” he added, laughing, “all this time we are forgetting our friend, Du Vallon; what has become of him? During the three days I spent at Saint-Mande, I confess I have forgotten him completely.”
+
+“I do not forget him, however,” returned Aramis. “Porthos is at Saint-Mande; his joints are kept well greased, the greatest care is being taken care of him with regard to the food he eats, and the wines he drinks; I advise him to take daily airings in the small park, which you have kept for your own use, and he makes us of it accordingly. He begins to walk again, he exercises his muscular powers by bending down young elm-trees, or making the old oaks fly into splinters, as Milo of Crotona used to do; and, as there are no lions in the park, it is not unlikely we shall find him alive. Porthos is a brave fellow.”
+
+“Yes, but in the mean time he will get bored to death.”
+
+“Oh, no; he never does that.”
+
+“He will be asking questions?”
+
+“He sees no one.”
+
+“At all events, he is looking or hoping for something or another.”
+
+“I have inspired in him a hope which we will realize some fine morning, and on that he subsists.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“That of being presented to the king.”
+
+“Oh! in what character?”
+
+“As the engineer of Belle-Isle, of course.”
+
+“Is it possible?”
+
+“Quite true.”
+
+“Shall we not be obliged, then, to send him back to Belle-Isle?”
+
+“Most certainly; I am even thinking of sending him as soon as possible. Porthos is very fond of display; he is man whose weakness D’Artagnan, Athos, and myself are alone acquainted with; he never commits himself in any way; he is dignity himself; to the officers there, he would seem like a Paladin of the time of the Crusades. He would make the whole staff drunk, without getting tipsy in the least himself, and every one will regard him with admiration and sympathy; if, therefore, it should happen that we have any orders requiring to be carried out, Porthos is an incarnation of the order itself, and whatever he chose to do others would find themselves obliged to submit to.”
+
+“Send him back, then.”
+
+“That is what I intend to do; but only in a few days; for I must not omit to tell you one thing.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I begin to mistrust D’Artagnan. He is not at Fontainebleau, as you may have noticed, and D’Artagnan is never absent, or apparently idle, without some object in view. And now that my own affairs are settled, I am going to try and ascertain what the affairs are in which D’Artagnan is engaged.”
+
+“Your own affairs are settled, you say?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are very fortunate in that case, then, and I should like to be able to say the same.”
+
+“I hope you do not make yourself uneasy.”
+
+“Hum!”
+
+“Nothing could be better than the king’s reception of you.”
+
+“True.”
+
+“And Colbert leaves you in peace.”
+
+“Nearly so.”
+
+“In that case,” said Aramis, with that connection of ideas which marked him, “in that case, then, we can bestow a thought upon the young girl I was speaking to you about yesterday.”
+
+“Whom do you mean?”
+
+“What, have you forgotten already? I mean La Valliere.”
+
+“Ah! of course, of course.”
+
+“Do you object, then, to try and make a conquest of her?”
+
+“In one respect only; my heart is engaged in another direction, and I positively do not care about the girl in the least.”
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, “your heart is engaged, you say. The deuce! we must take care of that.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because it is terrible to have the heart occupied, when others, besides yourself, have so much need of the head.”
+
+“You are right. So you see, at your first summons, I left everything. But to return to this girl. What good do you see in my troubling myself about her?”
+
+“This. -- The king, it is said, has taken a fancy to her; at least, so it is supposed.”
+
+“But you, who know everything, know very differently.”
+
+“I know that the king is greatly and suddenly changed; that the day before yesterday he was crazy over Madame; that a few days ago, Monsieur complained of it, even to the queen-mother; and that some conjugal misunderstandings and maternal scoldings were the consequence.”
+
+“How do you know all that?”
+
+“I do know it; at all events, since these misunderstandings and scoldings, the king has not addressed a word, has not paid the slightest attention, to her royal highness.”
+
+“Well, what next?”
+
+“Since then, he has been taken up with Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Now, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is one of Madame’s maids of honor. You happen to know, I suppose, what is called a chaperon in matters of love. Well, then, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is Madame’s chaperon. It is for you to take advantage of this state of things. You have no occasion for me to tell you that. But, at all events, wounded vanity will render the conquest an easier one; the girl will get hold of the king, and Madame’s secret, and you can scarcely predict what a man of intelligence can do with a secret.”
+
+“But how to get at her?”
+
+“Nay, you, of all men, to ask me such a question!” said Aramis.
+
+“Very true. I shall not have any time to take any notice of her.”
+
+“She is poor and unassuming, you will create a position for her, and whether she tames the king as his lady confessor, or his sweetheart, you will have enlisted a new and valuable ally.”
+
+“Very good,” said Fouquet. “What is to be done, then, with regard to this girl?”
+
+“Whenever you have taken a fancy to any lady, Monsieur Fouquet, what course have you generally pursued?”
+
+“I have written to her, protesting my devotion to her. I have added, how happy I should be to render her any service in my power, and have signed ‘Fouquet,’ at the end of the letter.”
+
+“And has any one offered resistance?”
+
+“One person only,” replied Fouquet. “But, four days ago, she yielded, as the others had done.”
+
+“Will you take the trouble to write?” said Aramis, holding a pen towards him, which Fouquet took, saying:
+
+“I will write at your dictation. My head is so taken up in another direction, that I should not be able to write a couple lines.”
+
+“Very well,” said Aramis, “write.”
+
+And he dictated, as follows: “Mademoiselle -- I have seen you -- and you will not be surprised to learn, I think you very beautiful. But, for want of the position you merit at court, your presence there is a waste of time. The devotion of a man of honor, should ambition of any kind inspire you, might possibly serve as a means of display for your talent and beauty. I place my devotion at your feet; but, as an affection, however reserved and unpresuming it may be, might possibly compromise the object of its worship, it would ill become a person of your merit running the risk of being compromised, without her future being assured. If you would deign to accept, and reply to my affection, my affection shall prove its gratitude to you in making you free and independent forever.”
+
+Having finished writing, Fouquet looked at Aramis.
+
+“Sign it,” said the latter.
+
+“Is it absolutely necessary?”
+
+“Your signature at the foot of that letter is worth a million; you forget that.” Fouquet signed.
+
+“Now, by whom do you intend to send this letter?” asked Aramis.
+
+“By an excellent servant of mine.”
+
+“Can you rely on him?”
+
+“He is a man who has been with me all my life.”
+
+“Very well. Besides, in this case, we are not playing for very heavy stakes.”
+
+“How so? For if what you say be true of the accommodating disposition of this girl for the king and Madame, the king will give her all the money she can ask for.”
+
+“The king has money, then?” asked Aramis.
+
+“I suppose so, for he has not asked me for any more.”
+
+“Be easy, he will ask for some, soon.”
+
+“Nay, more than that, I had thought he would have spoken to me about the fete at Vaux, but he never said a word about it.”
+
+“He will be sure to do so, though.”
+
+“You must think the king’s disposition a very cruel one, Monsieur d’Herblay.”
+
+“It is not he who is so.”
+
+“He is young, and therefore his disposition is a kind one.”
+
+“He is young, and either he is weak, or his passions are strong; and Monsieur Colbert holds his weakness and his passions in his villainous grasp.”
+
+“You admit that you fear him?”
+
+“I do not deny it.”
+
+“I that case I am lost.”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“My only influence with the king has been through the money I commanded, and now I am a ruined man.”
+
+“Not so.”
+
+“What do you mean by ‘not so?’ Do you know my affairs better than myself?”
+
+“That is not unlikely.”
+
+“If he were to request this fete to be given?”
+
+“You would give it, of course.”
+
+“But where is the money to come from?”
+
+“Have you ever been in want of any?”
+
+“Oh! if you only knew at what a cost I procured the last supply.”
+
+“The next shall cost you nothing.”
+
+“But who will give it me?”
+
+“I will.”
+
+“What, give me six millions?”
+
+“Ten, if necessary.”
+
+“Upon my word, D’Herblay,” said Fouquet, “your confidence alarms me more than the king’s displeasure. Who can you possibly be, after all?”
+
+“You know me well enough, I should think.”
+
+“Of course; but what is it you are aiming at?”
+
+“I wish to see upon the throne of France a king devoted to Monsieur Fouquet, and I wish Monsieur Fouquet to be devoted to me.”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Fouquet, pressing his hand, -- “as for being devoted to you, I am yours, entirely; but believe me, my dear D’Herblay, you are deceiving yourself.”
+
+“In what respect?”
+
+“The king will never become devoted to me.”
+
+“I do not remember to have said that King Louis would ever become devoted to you.”
+
+“Why, on the contrary, you have this moment said so.”
+
+“I did not say the king; I said a king.”
+
+“Is it not all the same?”
+
+“No, on the contrary, it is altogether different.”
+
+“I do not understand you.”
+
+“You will do so, shortly, then; suppose, for instance, the king in question were to be a very different person to Louis XIV.”
+
+“Another person.”
+
+“Yes, who is indebted for everything to you.”
+
+“Impossible.”
+
+“His very throne, even.”
+
+“You are mad, D’Herblay. There is no man living besides Louis XIV. who can sit on the throne of France. I know of none, not one.”
+
+“But I know one.”
+
+“Unless it be Monsieur,” said Fouquet, looking at Aramis uneasily; “yet Monsieur -- ”
+
+“It is not Monsieur.”
+
+“But how can it be, that a prince not of the royal line, that a prince without any right -- ”
+
+“My king, or rather your king, will be everything that is necessary, be assured of that.”
+
+“Be careful, Monsieur d’Herblay, you make my blood run cold, and my head swim.”
+
+Aramis smiled. “There is but little occasion for that,” he replied.
+
+“Again, I repeat, you terrify me,” said Fouquet. Aramis smiled.
+
+“You laugh,” said Fouquet.
+
+“The day will come when you will laugh too; only at the present moment I must laugh alone.”
+
+“But explain yourself.”
+
+“When the proper time comes, I will explain all. Fear nothing. Have faith in me, and doubt nothing.”
+
+“The fact is, I cannot but doubt, because I do not see clearly, or even at all.”
+
+“That is because of your blindness; but a day will come when you will be enlightened.”
+
+“Oh!” said Fouquet, “how willingly would I believe.”
+
+“You, without belief! you, who, through my means, have ten times crossed the abyss yawning at your feet, and in which, had you been alone, you would have been irretrievably swallowed; you, without belief; you, who from procureur-general attained the rank of intendant, from the rank of intendant, that of the first minister of the crown, and who from the rank of first minister will pass to that of mayor of the palace. But no,” he said, with the same unaltered smile, “no, no, you cannot see, and consequently cannot believe -- what I tell you.” And Aramis rose to withdraw.
+
+“One word more,” said Fouquet; “you have never yet spoken to me in this manner, you have never yet shown yourself so confident, I should rather say so daring.”
+
+“Because it is necessary, in order to speak confidently, to have the lips unfettered.”
+
+“And that is now your case?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Since a very short time, then?”
+
+“Since yesterday, only.”
+
+“Oh! Monsieur d’Herblay, take care, your confidence is becoming audacity.”
+
+“One can well be audacious when one is powerful.”
+
+“And you are powerful?”
+
+“I have already offered you ten millions; I repeat the offer.”
+
+Fouquet rose, profoundly agitated.
+
+“Come,” he said, “come; you spoke of overthrowing kings and replacing them by others. If, indeed, I am not really out of my senses, is or is not that what you said just now?”
+
+“You are by no means out of your senses, for it is perfectly true I did say all that just now.”
+
+“And why did you say so?”
+
+“Because it is easy to speak in this manner of thrones being cast down, and kings being raised up, when one is, one’s self, far above all kings and thrones, of this world at least.”
+
+“Your power is infinite, then?” cried Fouquet.
+
+“I have told you so already, and I repeat it,” replied Aramis, with glistening eyes and trembling lips.
+
+Fouquet threw himself back in his chair, and buried his face in his hands. Aramis looked at him for a moment, as the angel of human destinies might have looked upon a simple mortal.
+
+“Adieu,” he said to him, “sleep undisturbed, and send your letter to La Valliere. To-morrow we shall see each other again.”
+
+“Yes, to-morrow,” said Fouquet, shaking his hands like a man returning to his senses. “But where shall we see each other?”
+
+“At the king’s promenade, if you like.”
+
+“Agreed.” And they separated.
+
+Chapter LXI. The Storm.
+
+The dawn of the following day was dark and gloomy, and as every one knew that the promenade was down in the royal programme, every one’s gaze, as his eyes were opened, was directed towards the sky. Just above the tops of the trees a thick, suffocating vapor seemed to remain suspended, with barely sufficient power to rise thirty feet above the ground under the influence of the sun’s rays, which was scarcely visible as a faint spot of lesser darkness through the veil of heavy mist. No dew had fallen in the morning; the turf was dried up for want of moisture, the flowers withered. The birds sang less inspiringly than usual upon the boughs, which remained motionless as the limbs of corpses. The strange confused and animated murmurs, which seemed born and to exist in virtue of the sun, that respiration of nature which is unceasingly heard amidst all other sounds, could not be heard now, and never had the silence been so profound.
+
+The king had noticed the cheerless aspect of the heavens as he approached the window immediately upon rising. But as all the necessary directions had been given respecting the promenade, and every preparation had been made accordingly, and as, which was far more imperious than anything else, Louis relied upon this promenade to satisfy the cravings of his imagination, and we will even already say, the clamorous desires of his heart -- the king unhesitatingly decided that the appearance of the heavens had nothing whatever to do with the matter; that the promenade was arranged, and that, whatever the state of the weather, the promenade should take place. Besides, there are certain terrestrial sovereigns who seem to have accorded them privileged existences, and there are certain times when it might almost be supposed that the expressed wish of an earthly monarch has its influence over the Divine will. It was Virgil who observed of Augustus: Nocte pluit tota redeunt spectacula mane. [10]
+
+Louis attended mass as usual, but it was evident that his attention was somewhat distracted from the presence of the Creator by the remembrance of the creature. His mind was occupied during the service in reckoning more than once the number of minutes, then of seconds, which separated him from the blissful moment when the promenade would begin, that is to say, the moment when Madame would set out with her maids of honor. Besides, as a matter of course, everybody at the chateau was ignorant of the interview which had taken place between La Valliere and the king. Montalais, perhaps, with her usual chattering propensity, might have been disposed to talk about it; but Montalais on this occasion was held in check by Malicorne, who had securely fastened on her pretty lips the golden padlock of mutual interest. As for Louis XIV., his happiness was so extreme that he had forgiven Madame, or nearly so, her little piece of malice of the previous evening. In fact, he had occasion to congratulate himself rather than to complain of it. Had it not been for her ill-natured action, he would not have received the letter from La Valliere; had it not been for the letter, he would have had no interview; and had it not been for the interview he would have remained undecided. His heart was filled with too much happiness for any ill-feeling to remain in it, at that moment at least. Instead, therefore, of knitting his brows into a frown when he perceived his sister-in-law, Louis resolved to receive her in a more friendly and gracious manner than usual. But on one condition only, that she would be ready to set out early. Such was the nature of Louis’s thoughts during mass; which made him, during the ceremony, forget matters which, in his character of Most Christian King and of the eldest son of the Church, ought to have occupied his attention. He returned to the chateau, and as the promenade was fixed for midday, and it was at present just ten o’clock, he set to work desperately with Colbert and Lyonne. But even while he worked Louis went from the table to the window, inasmuch as the window looked out upon Madame’s pavilion: he could see M. Fouquet in the courtyard, to whom the courtiers, since the favor shown towards him on the previous evening, paid greater attention than ever. The king, instinctively, on noticing Fouquet, turned towards Colbert, who was smiling, and seemed full of benevolence and delight, a state of feeling which had arisen from the very moment one of his secretaries had entered and handed him a pocket-book, which he had put unopened into his pocket. But, as there was always something sinister at the bottom of any delight expressed by Colbert, Louis preferred, of the smiles of the two men, that of Fouquet. He beckoned to the superintendent to come up, and turning towards Lyonne and Colbert, he said: -- “Finish this matter, place it on my desk, and I will read it at my leisure.” And he left the room. At the sign the king had made to him, Fouquet had hastened up the staircase, while Aramis, who was with the superintendent, quietly retired among the group of courtiers and disappeared without having been even observed by the king. The king and Fouquet met at the top of the staircase.
+
+“Sire,” said Fouquet, remarking the gracious manner in which Louis was about to receive him, “your majesty has overwhelmed me with kindness during the last few days. It is not a youthful monarch, but a being of higher order, who reigns over France, one whom pleasure, happiness, and love acknowledge as their master.” The king colored. The compliment, although flattering, was not the less somewhat pointed. Louis conducted Fouquet to a small room that divided his study from his sleeping-apartment.
+
+“Do you know why I summoned you?” said the king as he seated himself upon the edge of the window, so as not to lose anything that might be passing in the gardens which fronted the opposite entrance to Madame’s pavilion.
+
+“No, sire,” replied Fouquet, “but I am sure for something agreeable, if I am to judge from your majesty’s gracious smile.”
+
+“You are mistaken, then.”
+
+“I, sire?”
+
+“For I summoned you, on the contrary, to pick a quarrel with you.”
+
+“With me, sire?”
+
+“Yes: and that a serious one.”
+
+“Your majesty alarms me -- and yet I was most confident in your justice and goodness.”
+
+“Do you know I am told, Monsieur Fouquet, that you are preparing a grand fete at Vaux.”
+
+Fouquet smiled, as a sick man would do at the first shiver of a fever which has left him but returns again.
+
+“And that you have not invited me!” continued the king.
+
+“Sire,” replied Fouquet, “I have not even thought of the fete you speak of, and it was only yesterday evening that one of my friends,” Fouquet laid a stress upon the word, “was kind enough to make me think of it.”
+
+“Yet I saw you yesterday evening, Monsieur Fouquet, and you said nothing to me about it.”
+
+“How dared I hope that your majesty would so greatly descend from your own exalted station as to honor my dwelling with your royal presence?”
+
+“Excuse me, Monsieur Fouquet, you did not speak to me about your fete.”
+
+“I did not allude to the fete to your majesty, I repeat, in the first place, because nothing had been decided with regard to it, and, secondly, because I feared a refusal.”
+
+“And something made you fear a refusal, Monsieur Fouquet? You see I am determined to push you hard.”
+
+“The profound wish I had that your majesty should accept my invitation -- ”
+
+“Well, Monsieur Fouquet, nothing is easier, I perceive, than our coming to an understanding. Your wish is to invite me to your fete, my own is to be present at it; invite me and I will go.”
+
+“Is it possible that your majesty will deign to accept?” murmured the superintendent.
+
+“Why, really, monsieur,” said the king, laughing, “I think I do more than accept; I rather fancy I am inviting myself.”
+
+“Your majesty overwhelms me with honor and delight,” exclaimed Fouquet, “but I shall be obliged to repeat what M. Vieuville said to your ancestor, Henry IV., Domine non sum dignus.” [11]
+
+“To which I reply, Monsieur Fouquet, that if you give a fete, I will go, whether I am invited or not.”
+
+“I thank your majesty deeply,” said Fouquet, as he raised his head beneath this favor, which he was convinced would be his ruin.
+
+“But how could your majesty have been informed of it?”
+
+“By a public rumor, Monsieur Fouquet, which says such wonderful things of yourself and the marvels of your house. Would you become proud, Monsieur Fouquet, if the king were to be jealous of you?”
+
+“I should be the happiest man in the world, sire, since the very day on which your majesty were to be jealous of Vaux, I should possess something worthy of being offered to you.”
+
+“Very well, Monsieur Fouquet, prepare your fete, and open the door of your house as wide as possible.”
+
+“It is for your majesty to fix the day.”
+
+“This day month, then.”
+
+“Has your majesty any further commands?”
+
+“Nothing, Monsieur Fouquet, except from the present moment until then to have you near me as much as possible.”
+
+“I have the honor to form one of your majesty’s party for the promenade.”
+
+“Very good; indeed, I am now setting out; for there are the ladies, I see, who are going to start.”
+
+With this remark, the king, with all the eagerness, not only of a young man, but of a young man in love, withdrew from the window, in order to take his gloves and cane, which his valet held ready for him. The neighing of the horses and the crunching of the wheels on the gravel of the courtyard could be distinctly heard. The king descended the stairs, and at the moment he appeared upon the flight of steps, every one stopped. The king walked straight up to the young queen. The queen-mother, who was still suffering more than ever from the illness with which she was afflicted, did not wish to go out. Maria Theresa accompanied Madame in her carriage, and asked the king in what direction he wished the promenade to drive. The king, who had just seen La Valliere, still pale from the event of the previous evening, get into a carriage with three of her companions, told the queen that he had no preference, and wherever she would like to go, there would he be with her. The queen then desired that the outriders should proceed in the direction of Apremont. The outriders set off accordingly before the others. The king rode on horseback, and for a few minutes accompanied the carriage of the queen and Madame. The weather had cleared up a little, but a kind of veil of dust, like a thick gauze, was still spread over the surface of the heavens, and the sun made every atom glisten within the circuit of its rays. The heat was stifling; but, as the king did not seem to pay any attention to the appearance of the heavens, no one made himself uneasy about it, and the promenade, in obedience to the orders given by the queen, took its course in the direction of Apremont. The courtiers who followed were in the very highest spirits; it was evident that every one tried to forget, and to make others forget, the bitter discussions of the previous evening. Madame, particularly, was delightful. In fact, seeing the king at the door of her carriage, as she did not suppose he would be there for the queen’s sake, she hoped that her prince had returned to her. Hardly, however, had they proceeded a quarter of a mile on the road, when the king, with a gracious smile, saluted them and drew up his horse, leaving the queen’s carriage to pass on, then that of the principal ladies of honor, and then all the others in succession, who, seeing the king stop, wished in their turn to stop too; but the king made a sign to them to continue their progress. When La Valliere’s carriage passed, the king approached it, saluted the ladies who were inside, and was preparing to accompany the carriage containing the maids of honor, in the same way he had followed that in which Madame was, when suddenly the whole file of carriages stopped. It was probable that Madame, uneasy at the king having left her, had just given directions for the performance of this maneuver, the direction in which the promenade was to take place having been left to her. The king, having sent to inquire what her object was in stopping the cavalcade, was informed in reply, that she wished to walk. She most likely hoped that the king, who was following the carriages of the maids of honor on horseback, would not venture to follow the maids of honor themselves on foot. They had arrived in the middle of the forest.
+
+The promenade, in fact, was not ill-timed, especially for those who were dreamers or lovers. From the little open space where the halt had taken place, three beautiful long walks, shady and undulating, stretched out before them. These walks were covered with moss or with leaves that formed a carpet from the loom of nature; and each walk had its horizon in the distance, consisting of about a hand-breadth of sky, apparent through the interlacing of the branches of the trees. At the end of almost every walk, evidently in great tribulation and uneasiness, the startled deer were seen hurrying to and fro, first stopping for a moment in the middle of the path, and then raising their heads they fled with the speed of an arrow or bounded into the depths of the forest, where they disappeared from view; now and then a rabbit, of philosophical mien, might be noticed quietly sitting upright, rubbing his muzzle with his fore paws, and looking about inquiringly, as though wondering whether all these people, who were approaching in his direction, and who had just disturbed him in his meditations and his meal, were not followed by their dogs, or had not their guns under their arms. All alighted from their carriages as soon as they observed that the queen was doing so. Maria Theresa took the arm of one of her ladies of honor, and, with a side glance towards the king, who did not perceive that he was in the slightest degree the object of the queen’s attention, entered the forest by the first path before her. Two of the outriders preceded her majesty with long poles, which they used for the purpose of putting the branches of the trees aside, or removing the bushes that might impede her progress. As soon as Madame alighted, she found the Comte de Guiche at her side, who bowed and placed himself at her disposal. Monsieur, delighted with his bath of the two previous days, had announced his preference for the river, and, having given De Guiche leave of absence, remained at the chateau with the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp. He was not in the slightest degree jealous. He had been looked for to no purpose among those present; but as Monsieur was a man who thought a great deal of himself, and usually added very little to the general pleasure, his absence was rather a subject of satisfaction than regret. Every one had followed the example which the queen and Madame had set, doing just as they pleased, according as chance or fancy influenced them. The king, we have already observed, remained near La Valliere, and, throwing himself off his horse at the moment the door of her carriage was opened, he offered her his hand to alight. Montalais and Tonnay-Charente immediately drew back and kept at a distance; the former from calculated, the latter from natural motives. There was this difference, however, between the two, that the one had withdrawn from a wish to please the king, the other for a very opposite reason. During the last half-hour the weather also had undergone a change; the veil which had been spread over the sky, as if driven by a blast of heated air, had become massed together in the western part of the heavens; and afterwards, as if driven by a current of air from the opposite direction, was now advancing slowly and heavily towards them. The approach of the storm could be felt, but as the king did not perceive it, no one thought it proper to do so. The promenade was therefore continued; some of the company, with minds ill at ease on the subject, raised their eyes from time to time towards the sky; others, even more timid still, walked about without wandering too far from the carriages, where they relied upon taking shelter in case the storm burst. The greater number of these, however, observing that the king fearlessly entered the wood with La Valliere, followed his majesty. The king, noticing this, took La Valliere’s hand, and led her to a lateral forest-alley; where no one this time ventured to follow him.
+
+Chapter LXII. The Shower of Rain.
+
+At this moment, and in the same direction, too, that the king and La Valliere had taken, except that they were in the wood itself instead of following the path, two men were walking together, utterly indifferent to the appearance of the heavens. Their heads were bent down in the manner of people occupied with matters of great moment. They had not observed either De Guiche or Madame, the king or La Valliere. Suddenly something fell through the air like a colossal sheet of flame, followed by a loud but distant rumbling noise.
+
+“Ah!” said one of them, raising his head, “here comes the storm. Let us reach our carriages, my dear D’Herblay.”
+
+Aramis looked inquiringly at the heavens. “There is no occasion to hurry yet,” he said; and then resuming the conversation where it had doubtless been interrupted, he said, “You were observing that the letter we wrote last evening must by this time have reached its destination?”
+
+“I was saying that she certainly has it.”
+
+“Whom did you send it by?”
+
+“By my own servant, as I have already told you.”
+
+“Did he bring back an answer?”
+
+“I have not seen him since; the young girl was probably in attendance on Madame, or was in her own room dressing, and he may have had to wait. Our time for leaving arrived, and we set off, of course; I cannot, therefore, know what is going on yonder.”
+
+“Did you see the king before leaving?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“How did he seem?”
+
+“Nothing could have passed off better, or worse; according as he be sincere or hypocritical.”
+
+“And the fete?”
+
+“Will take place in a month.”
+
+“He invited himself, you say?”
+
+“With a pertinacity in which I detected Colbert’s influence. But has not last night removed your illusions?”
+
+“What illusions?”
+
+“With respect to the assistance you may be able to give me under these circumstances.”
+
+“No; I have passed the night writing, and all my orders are given.”
+
+“Do not conceal it from yourself, D’Herblay, but the fete will cost some millions.”
+
+“I will supply six; do you on your side get two or three.”
+
+“You are a wonderful man, my dear D’Herblay.”
+
+Aramis smiled.
+
+“But,” inquired Fouquet, with some remaining uneasiness, “how is it that while you are now squandering millions in this manner, a few days ago you did not pay the fifty thousand francs to Baisemeaux out of your own pocket?”
+
+“Because a few days ago I was as poor as Job.”
+
+“And to-day?”
+
+“To-day I am wealthier than the king himself.”
+
+“Very well,” said Fouquet; “I understand men pretty well; I know you are incapable of forfeiting your word; I do not wish to wrest your secret from you, and so let us talk no more about it.”
+
+At this moment a dull, heavy rumbling was heard, which suddenly developed into a violent clap of thunder.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Fouquet, “I was quite right in what I said.”
+
+“Come,” said Aramis, “let us rejoin the carriages.”
+
+“We shall not have time,” said Fouquet, “for here comes the rain.”
+
+In fact, as he spoke, and as if the heavens were opened, a shower of large drops of rain was suddenly heard pattering on the leaves about them.
+
+“We shall have time,” said Aramis, “to reach the carriages before the foliage becomes saturated.”
+
+“It will be better,” said Fouquet, “to take shelter somewhere -- in a grotto, for instance.”
+
+“Yes, but where are we to find a grotto?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“I know one,” said Fouquet, smiling, “not ten paces from here.” Then looking round him, he added: “Yes, we are quite right.”
+
+“You are very fortunate to have so good a memory,” said Aramis, smiling in his turn, “but are you not afraid that your coachman, finding we do not return, will suppose we have taken another road back, and that he will not follow the carriages belonging to the court?”
+
+“Oh, there is no fear of that,” said Fouquet; “whenever I place my coachman and my carriage in any particular spot, nothing but an express order from the king could stir them; and more than that, too, it seems that we are not the only ones who have come so far, for I hear footsteps and the sound of voices.”
+
+As he spoke, Fouquet turned round, and opened with his cane a mass of foliage which hid the path from his view. Aramis’s glance as well as his own plunged at the same moment through the aperture he had made.
+
+“A woman,” said Aramis.
+
+“And a man,” said Fouquet.
+
+“It is La Valliere and the king,” they both exclaimed together.
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, “is his majesty aware of your cavern as well? I should not be astonished if he were, for he seems to be on very good terms with the dryads of Fontainebleau.”
+
+“Never mind,” said Fouquet; “let us get there. If he is not aware of it, we shall see what he will do if he should know it, as it has two entrances, so that whilst he enters by one, we can leave by the other.”
+
+“Is it far?” asked Aramis, “for the rain is beginning to penetrate.”
+
+“We are there now,” said Fouquet, as he pushed aside a few branches, and an excavation in the solid rock could be observed, hitherto concealed by heaths, ivy, and a thick covert of small shrubs.
+
+Fouquet led the way, followed by Aramis; but as the latter entered the grotto, he turned round, saying: “Yes, they are entering the wood; and, see, they are bending their steps this way.”
+
+“Very well; let us make room for them,” said Fouquet, smiling and pulling Aramis by his cloak; “but I do not think the king knows of my grotto.”
+
+“Yes,” said Aramis, “they are looking about them, but it is only for a thicker tree.”
+
+Aramis was not mistaken, the king’s looks were directed upward, and not around him. He held La Valliere’s arm within his own, and held her hand in his. La Valliere’s feet began to sleep on the damp grass. Louis again looked round him with greater attention than before, and perceiving an enormous oak with wide-spreading branches, he hurriedly drew La Valliere beneath its protecting shelter. The poor girl looked round her on all sides, and seemed half afraid, half desirous of being followed. The king made her lean back against the trunk of the tree, whose vast circumference, protected by the thickness of the foliage, was as dry as if at that moment the rain had not been falling in torrents. He himself remained standing before her with his head uncovered. After a few minutes, however, some drops of rain penetrated through the branches of the tree and fell on the king’s forehead, who did not pay any attention to them.
+
+“Oh, sire!” murmured La Valliere, pushing the king’s hat towards him. But the king simply bowed, and determinedly refused to cover his head.
+
+“Now or never is the time to offer your place,” said Fouquet in Aramis’s ear.
+
+“Now or never is the time to listen, and not lose a syllable of what they may have to say to each other,” replied Aramis in Fouquet’s ear.
+
+In fact they both remained perfectly silent, and the king’s voice reached them where they were.
+
+“Believe me,” said the king, “I perceive, or rather I can imagine your uneasiness; believe me, I sincerely regret having isolated you from the rest of the company, and brought you, also, to a spot where you will be inconvenienced by the rain. You are wet already, and perhaps cold too?”
+
+“No, sire.”
+
+“And yet you tremble?”
+
+“I am afraid, sire, that my absence may be misinterpreted; at a moment, too, when all the others are reunited.”
+
+“I would not hesitate to propose returning to the carriages, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, but pray look and listen, and tell me if it be possible to attempt to make the slightest progress at present?”
+
+In fact the thunder was still rolling, and the rain continued to fall in torrents.
+
+“Besides,” continued the king, “no possible interpretation can be made which would be to your discredit. Are you not with the king of France; in other words, with the first gentleman of the kingdom?”
+
+“Certainly, sire,” replied La Valliere, “and it is a very distinguished honor for me; it is not, therefore, for myself that I fear any interpretations that may be made.”
+
+“For whom, then?”
+
+“For you, sire.”
+
+“For me?” said the king, smiling, “I do not understand you.”
+
+“Has your majesty already forgotten what took place yesterday evening in her royal highness’s apartments?”
+
+“Oh! forget that, I beg, or allow me to remember it for no other purpose than to thank you once more for your letter, and -- ”
+
+“Sire,” interrupted La Valliere, “the rain is falling, and your majesty’s head is uncovered.”
+
+“I entreat you not to think of anything but yourself.”
+
+“Oh! I,” said La Valliere, smiling, “I am a country girl, accustomed to roaming through the meadows of the Loire and the gardens of Blois, whatever the weather may be. And, as for my clothes,” she added, looking at her simple muslin dress, “your majesty sees there is but little room for injury.”
+
+“Indeed, I have already noticed, more than once, that you owed nearly everything to yourself and nothing to your toilette. Your freedom from coquetry is one of your greatest charms in my eyes.”
+
+“Sire, do not make me out better than I am, and say merely, ‘You cannot possibly be a coquette.’”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“Because,” said La Valliere, smiling, “I am not rich.”
+
+“You admit, then,” said the king, quickly, “that you have a love for beautiful things?”
+
+“Sire, I only regard those things as beautiful which are within my reach. Everything which is too highly placed for me -- ”
+
+“You are indifferent to?”
+
+“Is foreign to me, as being prohibited.”
+
+“And I,” said the king, “do not find that you are at my court on the footing you should be. The services of your family have not been sufficiently brought under my notice. The advancement of your family was cruelly neglected by my uncle.”
+
+“On the contrary, sire. His royal highness, the Duke of Orleans, was always exceedingly kind towards M. de Saint-Remy, my step-father. The services rendered were humble, and, properly speaking, our services have been adequately recognized. It is not every one who is happy enough to find opportunities of serving his sovereign with distinction. I have no doubt at all, that, if ever opportunities had been met with, my family’s actions would have been as lofty as their loyalty was firm: but that happiness was never ours.”
+
+“In that case, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, it belongs to kings to repair the want of opportunity, and most delightedly do I undertake to repair, in your instance, and with the least possible delay, the wrongs of fortune towards you.”
+
+“Nay, sire,” cried La Valliere, eagerly; “leave things, I beg, as they are now.”
+
+“Is it possible! you refuse what I ought, and what I wish to do for you?”
+
+“All I desired has been granted me, when the honor was conferred upon me of forming one of Madame’s household.”
+
+“But if you refuse for yourself, at least accept for your family.”
+
+“Your generous intentions, sire, bewilder me and make me apprehensive, for, in doing for my family what your kindness urges you to do, your majesty will raise up enemies for us, and enemies for yourself, too. Leave me in the ranks of middle life, sire; of all the feelings and sentiments I experience, leave me to enjoy the pleasing instinct of disinterestedness.”
+
+“The sentiments you express,” said the king, “are indeed admirable.”
+
+“Quite true,” murmured Aramis in Fouquet’s ear, “and he cannot be accustomed to them.”
+
+“But,” replied Fouquet, “suppose she were to make a similar reply to my letter.”
+
+“True!” said Aramis, “let us not anticipate, but wait the conclusion.”
+
+“And then, dear Monsieur d’Herblay,” added the superintendent, hardly able to appreciate the sentiments which La Valliere had just expressed, “it is very often sound calculation to seem disinterested with monarchs.”
+
+“Exactly what I was thinking this very minute,” said Aramis. “Let us listen.”
+
+The king approached nearer to La Valliere, and as the rain dripped more and more through the foliage of the oak, he held his hat over the head of the young girl, who raised her beautiful blue eyes towards the royal hat which sheltered her, and shook her head, sighing deeply as she did so.
+
+“What melancholy thought,” said the king, “can possibly reach your heart when I place mine as a rampart before it?”
+
+“I will tell you, sire. I had already once before broached this question, which is so difficult for a young girl of my age to discuss, but your majesty imposed silence on me. Your majesty belongs not to yourself alone: you are married; and every sentiment which would separate your majesty from the queen, in leading you to take notice of me, will be a source of profoundest sorrow for the queen.” The king endeavored to interrupt the young girl, but she continued with a suppliant gesture. “The Queen Maria, with an attachment which can be well understood, follows with her eyes every step of your majesty which separates you from her. Happy enough in having had her fate united to your own, she weepingly implores Heaven to preserve you to her, and is jealous of the faintest throb of your heart bestowed elsewhere.” The king again seemed anxious to speak, but again did La Valliere venture to prevent him. -- “Would it not, therefore, be a most blamable action,” she continued, “if your majesty, a witness of this anxious and disinterested affection, gave the queen any cause for jealousy? Forgive me, sire, for the expressions I have used. I well know it is impossible, or rather that it would be impossible, that the greatest queen of the whole world could be jealous of a poor girl like myself. But though a queen, she is still a woman, and her heart, like that of the rest of her sex, cannot close itself against the suspicions which such as are evilly disposed, insinuate. For Heaven’s sake, sire, think no more of me; I am unworthy of your regard.”
+
+“Do you not know that in speaking as you have done, you change my esteem for you into the profoundest admiration?”
+
+“Sire, you assume my words to be contrary to the truth; you suppose me to be better than I really am, and attach a greater merit to me than God ever intended should be the case. Spare me, sire; for, did I not know that your majesty was the most generous man in your kingdom, I should believe you were jesting.”
+
+“You do not, I know, fear such a thing; I am quite sure of that,” exclaimed Louis.
+
+“I shall be obliged to believe it, if your majesty continues to hold such language towards me.”
+
+“I am most unhappy, then,” said the king, in a tone of regret which was not assumed; “I am the unhappiest prince in the Christian world, since I am powerless to induce belief in my words, in one whom I love the best in the wide world, and who almost breaks my heart by refusing to credit my regard for her.”
+
+“Oh, sire!” said La Valliere, gently putting the king aside, who had approached nearer to her, “I think the storm has passed away now, and the rain has ceased.” At the very moment, however, as the poor girl, fleeing as it were from her own heart, which doubtless throbbed but too well in unison with the king’s, uttered these words, the storm undertook to contradict her. A dead-white flash of lightning illumined the forest with a weird glare, and a peal of thunder, like a discharge of artillery, burst over their heads, as if the height of the oak that sheltered them had attracted the storm. The young girl could not repress a cry of terror. The king with one hand drew her towards his heart, and stretched the other above her head, as though to shield her from the lightning. A moment’s silence ensued, as the group, delightful as everything young and loving is delightful, remained motionless, while Fouquet and Aramis contemplated it in attitudes as motionless as La Valliere and the king. “Oh, sire!” murmured La Valliere, “do you hear?” and her head fell upon his shoulder.
+
+“Yes,” said the king. “You see, the storm has not passed away.”
+
+“It is a warning, sire.” The king smiled. “Sire, it is the voice of Heaven in anger.”
+
+“Be it so,” said the king. “I agree to accept that peal of thunder as a warning, and even as a menace, if, in five minutes from the present moment, it is renewed with equal violence; but if not, permit me to think that the storm is a storm simply, and nothing more.” And the king, at the same moment, raised his head, as if to interrogate the heavens. But, as if the remark had been heard and accepted, during the five minutes which elapsed after the burst of thunder which had alarmed them, no renewed peal was heard; and, when the thunder was again heard, it was passing as plainly as if, during those same five minutes, the storm, put to flight, had traversed the heavens with the wings of the wind. “Well, Louise,” said the king, in a low tone of voice, “do you still threaten me with the anger of Heaven? and, since you wished to regard the storm as a warning, do you still believe it bodes misfortune?”
+
+The young girl looked up, and saw that while they had been talking, the rain had penetrated the foliage above them, and was trickling down the king’s face. “Oh, sire, sire!” she exclaimed, in accents of eager apprehensions, which greatly agitated the king. “Is it for me,” she murmured, “that the king remains thus uncovered, and exposed to the rain? What am I, then?”
+
+“You are, you perceive,” said the king, “the divinity who dissipates the storm, and brings back fine weather.” In fact, even as the king spoke, a ray of sunlight streamed through the forest, and caused the rain-drops which rested upon the leaves, or fell vertically among the openings in the branches of the trees, to glisten like diamonds.
+
+“Sire,” said La Valliere, almost overcome, but making a powerful effort over herself, “think of the anxieties your majesty will have to submit to on my account. At this very moment, they are seeking you in every direction. The queen must be full of uneasiness; and Madame -- oh, Madame!” the young girl exclaimed, with an expression almost resembling terror.
+
+This name had a certain effect upon the king. He started, and disengaged himself from La Valliere, whom he had, till that moment, held pressed against his heart. He then advanced towards the path, in order to look round, and returned, somewhat thoughtfully, to La Valliere. “Madame, did you say?” he remarked.
+
+“Yes, Madame; she, too, is jealous,” said La Valliere, with a marked tone of voice; and her eyes, so timorous in their expression, and so modestly fugitive in their glance, for a moment, ventured to look inquiringly into the king’s.
+
+“Still,” returned Louis, making an effort over himself, “it seems to me that Madame has no reason, no right to be jealous of me.”
+
+“Alas!” murmured La Valliere.
+
+“Are you, too,” said the king, almost in a tone of reproach, “are you among those who think the sister has a right to be jealous of the brother?”
+
+“It is not for me, sire, to seek to penetrate your majesty’s secrets.”
+
+“You do believe it, then?” exclaimed the king.
+
+“I believe Madame is jealous, sire,” La Valliere replied, firmly.
+
+“Is it possible,” said the king with some anxiety, “that you have perceived it, then, from her conduct towards you? Have her manners in any way been such towards you that you can attribute them to the jealousy you speak of?”
+
+“Not at all, sire; I am of so little importance.”
+
+“Oh! if it were really the case -- ” exclaimed Louis, violently.
+
+“Sire,” interrupted the young girl, “it has ceased raining; some one is coming, I think.” And, forgetful of all etiquette, she had seized the king by the arm.
+
+“Well,” replied the king, “let them come. Who is there who would venture to think I had done wrong in remaining alone with Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”
+
+“For pity’s sake, sire! they will think it strange to see you wet through, in this manner, and that you should have run such risk for me.”
+
+“I have simply done my duty as a gentleman,” said Louis; “and woe to him who may fail in his, in criticising his sovereign’s conduct.” In fact, at this moment a few eager and curious faces were seen in the walk, as if engaged in a search. Catching glimpses at last of the king and La Valliere, they seemed to have found what they were seeking. They were some of the courtiers who had been sent by the queen and Madame, and uncovered themselves, in token of having perceived his majesty. But Louis, notwithstanding La Valliere’s confusion, did not quit his respectful and tender attitude. Then, when all the courtiers were assembled in the walk -- when every one had been able to perceive the extraordinary mark of deference with which he had treated the young girl, by remaining standing and bare-headed during the storm -- he offered her his arm, led her towards the group who were waiting, recognized by an inclination of the head the respectful salutations which were paid him on all sides; and, still holding his hat in his hand, he conducted her to her carriage. And, as a few sparse drops of rain continued to fall -- a last adieu of the vanishing storm -- the other ladies, whom respect had prevented from getting into their carriages before the king, remained altogether unprotected by hood or cloak, exposed to the rain from which the king was protecting, as well as he was able, the humblest among them. The queen and Madame must, like the others, have witnessed this exaggerated courtesy of the king. Madame was so disconcerted at it, that she touched the queen with her elbow, saying at the same time, “Look there, look there.”
+
+The queen closed her eyes as if she had been suddenly seized with a fainting-spell. She lifted her hands to her face and entered her carriage, Madame following her. The king again mounted his horse, and without showing a preference for any particular carriage door, he returned to Fontainebleau, the reins hanging over his horse’s neck, absorbed in thought. As soon as the crowd had disappeared, and the sound of the horses and carriages grew fainter in the distance, and when they were certain, in fact, that no one could see them, Aramis and Fouquet came out of their grotto, and both of them in silence passed slowly on towards the walk. Aramis looked most narrowly not only at the whole extent of the open space stretching out before and behind him, but even into the very depth of the wood.
+
+“Monsieur Fouquet,” he said, when he had quite satisfied himself that they were alone, “we must get back, at any cost, that letter you wrote to La Valliere.”
+
+“That will be easy enough,” said Fouquet, “if my servant has not given it to her.”
+
+“In any case it must be had, do you understand?”
+
+“Yes. The king is in love with the girl, you mean?”
+
+“Deeply, and what is worse is, that on her side, the girl is passionately attached to him.”
+
+“As much as to say that we must change our tactics, I suppose?”
+
+“Not a doubt of it; you have no time to lose. You must see La Valliere, and, without thinking any more of becoming her lover, which is out of the question, must declare yourself her most devoted friend and her most humble servant.”
+
+“I will do so,” replied Fouquet, “and without the slightest feeling of disinclination, for she seems a good-hearted girl.”
+
+“Or a very clever one,” said Aramis; “but in that case, all the greater reason.” Then he added, after a moment’s pause, “If I am not mistaken, that girl will become the strongest passion of the king’s life. Let us return to our carriage, and, as fast as possible, to the chateau.”
+
+Chapter LXIII. Toby.
+
+Two hours after the superintendent’s carriage had set off by Aramis’s directions, conveying them both towards Fontainebleau with the fleetness of the clouds the last breath of the tempest was hurrying across the face of heaven, La Valliere was closeted in her own apartment, with a simple muslin wrapper round her, having just finished a slight repast, which was placed upon a marble table. Suddenly the door was opened, and a servant entered to announce M. Fouquet, who had called to request permission to pay his respects to her. She made him repeat the message twice over, for the poor girl only knew M. Fouquet by name, and could not conceive what business she could possibly have with a superintendent of finances. However, as he might represent the king -- and, after the conversation we have recorded, it was very likely -- she glanced at her mirror, drew out still more the ringlets of her hair, and desired him to be admitted. La Valliere could not, however, refrain from a certain feeling of uneasiness. A visit from the superintendent was not an ordinary event in the life of any woman attached to the court. Fouquet, so notorious for his generosity, his gallantry, and his sensitive delicacy of feeling with regard to women generally, had received more invitations than he had requested audiences. In many houses, the presence of the superintendent had been significant of fortune; in many hearts, of love. Fouquet entered the apartment with a manner full of respect, presenting himself with that ease and gracefulness of manner which was the distinctive characteristic of the men of eminence of that period, and which at the present day seems no longer to be understood, even through the interpretation of the portraits of the period, in which the painter has endeavored to recall them to being. La Valliere acknowledged the ceremonious salutation which Fouquet addressed to her by a gentle inclination of the head, and motioned him to a seat. But Fouquet, with a bow, said, “I will not sit down until you have pardoned me.”
+
+“I?” asked La Valliere, “pardon what?”
+
+Fouquet fixed a most piercing look upon the young girl, and fancied he could perceive in her face nothing but the most unaffected surprise. “I observe,” he said, “that you have as much generosity as intelligence, and I read in your eyes the forgiveness I solicit. A pardon pronounced by your lips is insufficient for me, and I need the forgiveness of your heart and mind.”
+
+“Upon my honor, monsieur,” said La Valliere, “I assure you most positively I do not understand your meaning.”
+
+“Again, that is a delicacy on your part which charms me,” replied Fouquet, “and I see you do not wish me to blush before you.”
+
+“Blush! blush before me! Why should you blush?”
+
+“Can I have deceived myself,” said Fouquet; “and can I have been happy enough not to have offended you by my conduct towards you?”
+
+“Really, monsieur,” said La Valliere, shrugging her shoulders, “you speak in enigmas, and I suppose I am too ignorant to understand you.”
+
+“Be it so,” said Fouquet; “I will not insist. Tell me, only, I entreat you, that I may rely upon your full and complete forgiveness.”
+
+“I have but one reply to make to you, monsieur,” said La Valliere, somewhat impatiently, “and I hope that will satisfy you. If I knew the wrong you have done me, I would forgive you, and I now do so with still greater reason since I am ignorant of the wrong you allude to.”
+
+Fouquet bit his lips, as Aramis would have done. “In that case,” he said, “I may hope, that, notwithstanding what has happened, our good understanding will remain undisturbed, and that you will kindly confer the favor upon me of believing in my respectful friendship.”
+
+La Valliere fancied that she now began to understand, and said to herself, “I should not have believed M. Fouquet so eager to seek the source of a favor so very recent,” and then added aloud, “Your friendship, monsieur! you offer me your friendship. The honor, on the contrary, is mine, and I feel overpowered by it.”
+
+“I am aware,” replied Fouquet, “that the friendship of the master may appear more brilliant and desirable than that of the servant; but I assure you the latter will be quite as devoted, quite as faithful, and altogether disinterested.”
+
+La Valliere bowed, for, in fact, the voice of the superintendent seemed to convey both conviction and real devotion in its tone, and she held out her hand to him, saying, “I believe you.”
+
+Fouquet eagerly took hold of the young girl’s hand. “You see no difficulty, therefore,” he added, “in restoring me that unhappy letter.”
+
+“What letter?” inquired La Valliere.
+
+Fouquet interrogated her with his most searching gaze, as he had already done before, but the same ingenious expressions, the same transparently candid look met his. “I am obliged to confess,” he said, after this denial, “that your heart is the most delicate in the world, and I should not feel I was a man of honor and uprightness if I were to suspect anything from a woman so generous as yourself.”
+
+“Really, Monsieur Fouquet,” replied La Valliere, “it is with profound regret I am obliged to repeat that I absolutely understand nothing of what you refer to.”
+
+“In fact, then, upon your honor, mademoiselle, you have not received any letter from me?”
+
+“Upon my honor, none,” replied La Valliere, firmly.
+
+“Very well, that is quite sufficient; permit me, then, to renew the assurance of my utmost esteem and respect,” said Fouquet. Then, bowing, he left the room to seek Aramis, who was waiting for him in his own apartment, and leaving La Valliere to ask herself whether the superintendent had not lost his senses.
+
+“Well!” inquired Aramis, who was impatiently waiting Fouquet’s return, “are you satisfied with the favorite?”
+
+“Enchanted,” replied Fouquet; “she is a woman full of intelligence and fine feeling.”
+
+“She did not get angry, then?”
+
+“Far from that -- she did not even seem to understand.”
+
+“To understand what?”
+
+“To understand that I had written to her.”
+
+“She must, however, have understood you sufficiently to give the letter back to you, for I presume she returned it.”
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“At least, you satisfied yourself that she had burnt it.”
+
+“My dear Monsieur d’Herblay, I have been playing at cross-purposes for more than an hour, and, however amusing it may be, I begin to have had enough of this game. So understand me thoroughly: the girl pretended not to understand what I was saying to her; she denied having received any letter; therefore, having positively denied its receipt, she was unable either to return or burn it.”
+
+“Oh, oh!” said Aramis, with uneasiness, “what is this you tell me?”
+
+“I say that she swore most positively she had not received any letter.”
+
+“That is too much. And did you not insist?”
+
+“On the contrary, I did insist, almost impertinently even.”
+
+“And she persisted in her denial?”
+
+“Unhesitatingly.”
+
+“And did she not contradict herself?”
+
+“Not once.”
+
+“But, in that case, then, you have left our letter in her hands?”
+
+“How could I do otherwise?”
+
+“Oh! it was a great mistake.”
+
+“What the deuce would you have done in my place?”
+
+“One could not force her, certainly, but it is very embarrassing; such a letter ought not to remain in existence against us.”
+
+“Oh! the young girl’s disposition is generosity itself; I looked at her eyes, and I can read eyes well.”
+
+“You think she can be relied upon?”
+
+“From my heart I do.”
+
+“Well, I think we are mistaken.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“I think that, in point of fact, as she herself told you, she did not receive the letter.”
+
+“What! do you suppose -- ”
+
+“I suppose that, from some motive, of which we know nothing, your man did not deliver the letter to her.”
+
+Fouquet rang the bell. A servant appeared. “Send Toby here,” he said. A moment afterwards a man made his appearance, with an anxious, restless look, shrewd expression of the mouth, with short arms, and his back somewhat bent. Aramis fixed a penetrating look upon him.
+
+“Will you allow me to interrogate him myself?” inquired Aramis.
+
+“Do so,” said Fouquet.
+
+Aramis was about to say something to the lackey, when he paused. “No,” he said; “he would see that we attach too much importance to his answer; therefore question him yourself; I will pretend to be writing.” Aramis accordingly placed himself at a table, his back turned towards the old attendant, whose every gesture and look he watched in a looking-glass opposite to him.
+
+“Come here, Toby,” said Fouquet to the valet, who approached with a tolerably firm step. “How did you execute my commission?” inquired Fouquet.
+
+“In the usual way, monseigneur,” replied the man.
+
+“But how, tell me?”
+
+“I succeeded in penetrating as far as Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s apartment; but she was at mass, and so I placed the note on her toilette-table. Is not that what you told me to do?”
+
+“Precisely; and is that all?”
+
+“Absolutely all, monseigneur.”
+
+“No one was there?”
+
+“No one.”
+
+“Did you conceal yourself as I told you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And she returned?”
+
+“Ten minutes afterwards.”
+
+“And no one could have taken the letter?”
+
+“No one; for no one had entered the room.”
+
+“From the outside, but from the interior?”
+
+“From the place where I was secreted, I could see to the very end of the room.”
+
+“Now listen to me,” said Fouquet, looking fixedly at the lackey; “if this letter did not reach its proper destination, confess it; for, if a mistake has been made, your head shall be the forfeit.”
+
+Toby started, but immediately recovered himself. “Monseigneur,” he said, “I placed the letter on the very place I told you: and I ask only half an hour to prove to you that the letter is in Mademoiselle de la Valliere’s hand, or to bring you back the letter itself.”
+
+Aramis looked at the valet scrutinizingly. Fouquet was ready in placing confidence in people, and for twenty years this man had served him faithfully. “Go,” he said; “but bring me the proof you speak of.” The lackey quitted the room.
+
+“Well, what do you think of it?” inquired Fouquet of Aramis.
+
+“I think that you must, by some means or another, assure yourself of the truth, either that the letter has, or has not, reached La Valliere; that, in the first case, La Valliere must return it to you, or satisfy you by burning it in your presence; that, in the second, you must have the letter back again, even were it to cost you a million. Come, is not that your opinion?”
+
+“Yes; but still, my dear bishop, I believe you are exaggerating the importance of the affair.”
+
+“Blind, how blind you are!” murmured Aramis.
+
+“La Valliere,” returned Fouquet, “whom we assume to be a schemer of the first ability, is simply nothing more than a coquette, who hopes that I shall pay my court to her, because I have already done so, and who, now that she has received a confirmation of the king’s regard, hopes to keep me in leading strings with the letter. It is natural enough.”
+
+Aramis shook his head.
+
+“Is not that your opinion?” said Fouquet.
+
+“She is not a coquette,” he replied.
+
+“Allow me to tell you -- ”
+
+“Oh! I am well enough acquainted with women who are coquettes,” said Aramis.
+
+“My dear friend!”
+
+“It is a long time ago since I finished my education, you mean. But women are the same, throughout the centuries.”
+
+“True; but men change, and you at the present day are far more suspicious than you formerly were.” And then, beginning to laugh, he added, “Come, if La Valliere is willing to love me only to the extent of a third, and the king two-thirds, do you think the condition acceptable?”
+
+Aramis rose impatiently. “La Valliere,” he said, “has never loved, and never will love, any one but the king.”
+
+“At all events,” said Fouquet, “what would you do?”
+
+“Ask me rather what I would have done?”
+
+“Well! what would you have done?”
+
+“In the first place, I should not have allowed that man to depart.”
+
+“Toby?”
+
+“Yes; Toby is a traitor. Nay, I am sure of it, and I would not have let him go until he had told me the truth.”
+
+“There is still time. I will recall him, and do you question him in your turn.”
+
+“Agreed.”
+
+“But I assure you it is useless. He has been with me for twenty years, and has never made the slightest mistake, and yet,” added Fouquet, laughing, “it would have been easy enough for him to have done so.”
+
+“Still, call him back. This morning I fancy I saw that face, in earnest conversation with one of M. Colbert’s men.”
+
+“Where was that?”
+
+“Opposite the stables.”
+
+“Bah! all my people are at daggers drawn with that fellow.”
+
+“I saw him, I tell you, and his face, which should have been unknown to me when he entered just now, struck me as disagreeably familiar.”
+
+“Why did you not say something, then, while he was here?”
+
+“Because it is only at this very minute that my memory is clear upon the subject.”
+
+“Really,” said Fouquet, “you alarm me.” And he again rang the bell.
+
+“Provided that it is not already too late,” said Aramis.
+
+Fouquet once more rang impatiently. The valet usually in attendance appeared. “Toby!” said Fouquet, “send Toby.” The valet again shut the door.
+
+“You leave me at perfect liberty, I suppose?”
+
+“Entirely so.”
+
+“I may employ all means, then, to ascertain the truth.”
+
+“All.”
+
+“Intimidation, even?”
+
+“I constitute you public prosecutor in my place.”
+
+They waited ten minutes longer, but uselessly, and Fouquet, thoroughly out of patience, again rang loudly.
+
+“Toby!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said the valet, “they are looking for him.”
+
+“He cannot be far distant, I have not given him any commission to execute.”
+
+“I will go and see, monseigneur,” replied the valet, as he closed the door. Aramis, during the interview, walked impatiently, but without a syllable, up and down the cabinet. They waited a further ten minutes. Fouquet rang in a manner to alarm the very dead. The valet again presented himself, trembling in a way to induce a belief that he was the bearer of bad news.
+
+“Monseigneur is mistaken,” he said, before even Fouquet could interrogate him, “you must have given Toby some commission, for he has been to the stables and taken your lordship’s swiftest horse, and saddled it himself.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“And he has gone off.”
+
+“Gone!” exclaimed Fouquet. “Let him be pursued, let him be captured.”
+
+“Nay, nay,” whispered Aramis, taking him by the hand, “be calm, the evil is done.”
+
+The valet quietly went out.
+
+“The evil is done, you say?”
+
+“No doubt; I was sure of it. And now, let us give no cause for suspicion; we must calculate the result of the blow, and ward it off, if possible.”
+
+“After all,” said Fouquet, “the evil is not great.”
+
+“You think so?” said Aramis.
+
+“Of course. Surely a man is allowed to write a love-letter to a woman.”
+
+“A man, certainly; a subject, no; especially, too, when the woman in question is one with whom the king is in love.”
+
+“But the king was not in love with La Valliere a week ago! he was not in love with her yesterday, and the letter is dated yesterday; I could not guess the king was in love, when the king’s affection was not even yet in existence.”
+
+“As you please,” replied Aramis; “but unfortunately the letter is not dated, and it is that circumstance particularly which annoys me. If it had only been dated yesterday, I should not have the slightest shadow of uneasiness on your account.”
+
+Fouquet shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Am I not my own master,” he said, “and is the king, then, king of my brain and of my flesh?”
+
+“You are right,” replied Aramis, “do not let us attach greater importance to matters than is necessary; and besides... Well! if we are menaced, we have means of defense.”
+
+“Oh! menaced!” said Fouquet, “you do not place this gnat bite, as it were, among the number of menaces which may compromise my fortune and my life, do you?”
+
+“Do not forget, Monsieur Fouquet, that the bit of an insect can kill a giant, if the insect be venomous.”
+
+“But has this sovereign power you were speaking of, already vanished?”
+
+“I am all-powerful, it is true, but I am not immortal.”
+
+“Come, then, the most pressing matter is to find Toby again, I suppose. Is not that your opinion?”
+
+“Oh! as for that, you will not find him again,” said Aramis, “and if he were of any great value to you, you must give him up for lost.”
+
+“At all events he is somewhere or another in the world,” said Fouquet.
+
+“You’re right, let me act,” replied Aramis.
+
+Chapter LXIV. Madame’s Four Chances.
+
+Anne of Austria had begged the young queen to pay her a visit. For some time past suffering most acutely, and losing both her youth and beauty with that rapidity which signalizes the decline of women for whom life has been one long contest, Anne of Austria had, in addition to her physical sufferings, to experience the bitterness of being no longer held in any esteem, except as a surviving remembrance of the past, amidst the youthful beauties, wits, and influential forces of her court. Her physician’s opinions, her mirror also, grieved her far less than the inexorable warnings which the society of the courtiers afforded, who, like rats in a ship, abandon the hold into which on the very next voyage the water will infallibly penetrate, owing to the ravages of decay. Anne of Austria did not feel satisfied with the time her eldest son devoted to her. The king, a good son, more from affectation than from affection, had at first been in the habit of passing an hour in the morning and one in the evening with his mother; but, since he had himself undertaken the conduct of state affairs, the duration of the morning and evening’s visit had been reduced by one half; and then, by degrees, the morning visit had been suppressed altogether. They met at mass; the evening visit was replaced by a meeting, either at the king’s assembly or at Madame’s, which the queen attended obligingly enough, out of regard to her two sons.
+
+The result of this was, that Madame gradually acquired an immense influence over the court, which made her apartments the true royal place of meeting. This, Anne of Austria perceived; knowing herself to be very ill, and condemned by her sufferings to frequent retirement, she was distressed at the idea that the greater part of her future days and evenings would pass away solitary, useless, and in despondency. She recalled with terror the isolation in which Cardinal Richelieu had formerly left her, those dreaded and insupportable evenings, during which, however, she had both youth and beauty, which are ever accompanied by hope, to console her. She next formed the project of transporting the court to her own apartments, and of attracting Madame, with her brilliant escort, to her gloomy and already sorrowful abode, where the widow of a king of France, and the mother of a king of France, was reduced to console, in her artificial widowhood, the weeping wife of a king of France.
+
+Anne began to reflect. She had intrigued a good deal in her life. In the good times past, when her youthful mind nursed projects that were, ultimately, invariably successful, she had by her side, to stimulate her ambition and her love, a friend of her own sex, more eager, more ambitious than herself, -- a friend who had loved her, a rare circumstance at courts, and whom some petty considerations had removed from her forever. But for many years past -- except Madame de Motteville, and La Molena, her Spanish nurse, a confidante in her character of countrywoman and woman too -- who could boast of having given good advice to the queen? Who, too, among all the youthful heads there, could recall the past for her, -- that past in which alone she lived? Anne of Austria remembered Madame de Chevreuse, in the first place exiled rather by her wish than the king’s, and then dying in exile, the wife of a gentleman of obscure birth and position. She asked herself what Madame de Chevreuse would have advised her to do in similar circumstances, in their mutual difficulties arising from their intrigues; and after serious reflection, it seemed as if the clever, subtle mind of her friend, full of experience and sound judgment, answered her in the well-remembered ironical tones: “All the insignificant young people are poor and greedy of gain. They require gold and incomes to supply means of amusement; it is by interest you must gain them over.” And Anne of Austria adopted this plan. Her purse was well filled, and she had at her disposal a considerable sum of money, which had been amassed by Mazarin for her, and lodged in a place of safety. She possessed the most magnificent jewels in France, and especially pearls of a size so large that they made the king sigh every time he saw them, because the pearls of his crown were like millet seed compared to them. Anne of Austria had neither beauty nor charms any longer at her disposal. She gave out, therefore, that her wealth was great, and as an inducement for others to visit her apartments she let it be known that there were good gold crowns to be won at play, or that handsome presents were likely to be made on days when all went well with her; or windfalls, in the shape of annuities which she had wrung from the king by entreaty, and thus she determined to maintain her credit. In the first place, she tried these means upon Madame; because to gain her consent was of more importance than anything else. Madame, notwithstanding the bold confidence which her wit and beauty inspired her, blindly ran head foremost into the net thus stretched out to catch her. Enriched by degrees by these presents and transfers of property, she took a fancy to inheritances by anticipation. Anne of Austria adopted the same means towards Monsieur, and even towards the king himself. She instituted lotteries in her apartments. The day on which the present chapter opens, invitations had been issued for a late supper in the queen-mother’s apartments, as she intended that two beautiful diamond bracelets of exquisite workmanship should be put into a lottery. The medallions were antique cameos of the greatest value; the diamonds, in point of intrinsic value, did not represent a very considerable amount, but the originality and rarity of the workmanship were such, that every one at court not only wished to possess the bracelets, but even to see the queen herself wear them; for, on the days she wore them, it was considered as a favor to be admitted to admire them in kissing her hands. The courtiers had, even with regard to this subject, adopted various expressions of gallantry to establish the aphorism, that the bracelets would have been priceless in value if they had not been unfortunate enough to be placed in contact with arms as beautiful as the queen’s. This compliment had been honored by a translation into all the languages of Europe, and numerous verses in Latin and French had been circulated on the subject. The day that Anne of Austria had selected for the lottery was a decisive moment; the king had not been near his mother for a couple of days; Madame, after the great scene of the Dryads and Naiads, was sulking by herself. It is true, the king’s fit of resentment was over, but his mind was absorbingly occupied by a circumstance that raised him above the stormy disputes and giddy pleasures of the court.
+
+Anne of Austria effected a diversion by the announcement of the famous lottery to take place in her apartments on the following evening. With this object in view, she saw the young queen, whom, as we have already seen, she had invited to pay her a visit in the morning. “I have good news to tell you,” she said to her; “the king has been saying the most tender things about you. He is young, you know, and easily drawn away; but so long as you keep near me, he will not venture to keep away from you, to whom, besides, he is most warmly and affectionately attached. I intend to have a lottery this evening and shall expect to see you.”
+
+“I have heard,” said the young queen, with a sort of timid reproach, “that your majesty intends to put in the lottery those lovely bracelets whose rarity is so great that we ought not to allow them to pass out of the custody of the crown, even were there no other reason than that they had once belonged to you.”
+
+“My daughter,” said Anne of Austria, who read the young queen’s thoughts, and wished to console her for not having received the bracelets as a present, “it is positively necessary that I should induce Madame to pass her time in my apartments.”
+
+“Madame!” said the young queen, blushing.
+
+“Of course: would you not prefer to have a rival near you, whom you could watch and influence, to knowing the king is with her, always as ready to flirt as to be flirted with by her? The lottery I have proposed is my means of attraction for that purpose; do you blame me?”
+
+“Oh, no!” returned Maria Theresa, clapping her hands with a childlike expression of delight.
+
+“And you no longer regret, then, that I did not give you these bracelets, as I at first intended to do?”
+
+“Oh, no, no!”
+
+“Very well; make yourself look as beautiful as possible that our supper may be very brilliant; the gayer you seem, the more charming you appear, and you will eclipse all the ladies present as much by your brilliancy as by your rank.”
+
+Maria Theresa left full of delight. An hour afterwards, Anne of Austria received a visit from Madame, whom she covered with caresses, saying, “Excellent news! the king is charmed with my lottery.”
+
+“But I,” replied Madame, “am not so greatly charmed: to see such beautiful bracelets on any one’s arms but yours or mine, is what I cannot reconcile myself to.”
+
+“Well, well,” said Anne of Austria, concealing by a smile a violent pang she had just experienced, “do not look at things in the worst light immediately.”
+
+“Ah, Madame, Fortune is blind, and I am told there are two hundred tickets.”
+
+“Quite as many as that; but you cannot surely forget that there can only be one winner.”
+
+“No doubt. But who will that be? Can you tell?” said Madame, in despair.
+
+“You remind me that I had a dream last night; my dreams are always good, -- I sleep so little.”
+
+“What was your dream? -- but are you suffering?”
+
+“No,” said the queen, stifling with wonderful command the torture of a renewed attack of shooting pains in her bosom; “I dreamed that the king won the bracelets.”
+
+“The king!”
+
+“You are going to ask me, I think, what the king could possibly do with the bracelets?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And you would not add, perhaps, that it would be very fortunate if the king were really to win, for he would be obliged to give the bracelets to some one else.”
+
+“To restore them to you, for instance.”
+
+“In which case I should immediately give them away; for you do not think, I suppose,” said the queen, laughing, “that I have put these bracelets up to a lottery from necessity. My object was to give them without arousing any one’s jealousy; but if Fortune will not get me out of my difficulty -- well, I will teach Fortune a lesson -- and I know very well to whom I intend to offer the bracelets.” These words were accompanied by so expressive a smile, that Madame could not resist paying her by a grateful kiss.
+
+“But,” added Anne of Austria, “do you not know, as well as I do, that if the king were to win the bracelets, he would not restore them to me?”
+
+“You mean he would give them to the queen?”
+
+“No; and for the very same reason that he would not give them back again to me; since, if I had wished to make the queen a present of them, I had no need of him for that purpose.”
+
+Madame cast a side glance upon the bracelets, which, in their casket, were dazzlingly exposed to view upon a table close beside her.
+
+“How beautiful they are,” she said, sighing. “But stay,” Madame continued, “we are quite forgetting that your majesty’s dream was nothing but a dream.”
+
+“I should be very much surprised,” returned Anne of Austria, “if my dream were to deceive me; that has happened to me very seldom.”
+
+“We may look upon you as a prophetess, then.”
+
+“I have already said, that I dream but very rarely; but the coincidence of my dream about this matter, with my own ideas, is extraordinary! it agrees so wonderfully with my own views and arrangements.”
+
+“What arrangements do you allude to?”
+
+“That you will get the bracelets, for instance.”
+
+“In that case, it will not be the king.”
+
+“Oh!” said Anne of Austria, “there is not such a very great distance between his majesty’s heart and your own; for, are you not his sister, for whom he has a great regard? There is not, I repeat, so very wide a distance, that my dream can be pronounced false on that account. Come, let us reckon up the chances in its favor.”
+
+“I will count them.”
+
+“In the first place, we will begin with the dream. If the king wins, he is sure to give you the bracelets.”
+
+“I admit that is one.”
+
+“If you win them, they are yours.”
+
+“Naturally; that may be admitted also.”
+
+“Lastly; -- if Monsieur were to win them!”
+
+“Oh!” said Madame, laughing heartily, “he would give them to the Chevalier de Lorraine.”
+
+Anne of Austria laughed as heartily as her daughter-in-law; so much so, indeed, that her sufferings again returned, and made her turn suddenly pale in the very midst of her enjoyment.
+
+“What is the matter?” inquired Madame, terrified.
+
+“Nothing, nothing; a pain in my side. I have been laughing too much. We were at the fourth chance, I think.”
+
+“I cannot see a fourth.”
+
+“I beg your pardon; I am not excluded from the chance of winning, and if I be the winner, you are sure of me.”
+
+“Oh! thank you, thank you!” exclaimed Madame.
+
+“I hope that you look upon yourself as one whose chances are good, and that my dream now begins to assure the solid outlines of reality.”
+
+“Yes, indeed: you give me both hope and confidence,” said Madame, “and the bracelets, won in this manner, will be a hundred times more precious to me.”
+
+“Well! then, good-bye, until this evening.” And the two princesses separated. Anne of Austria, after her daughter-in-law had left her, said to herself, as she examined the bracelets, “They are, indeed, precious; since, by their means, this evening, I shall have won over a heart to my side, at the same time, fathomed an important secret.”
+
+Then turning towards the deserted recess in her room, she said, addressing vacancy, -- “Is it not thus that you would have acted, my poor Chevreuse? Yes, yes; I know it is.”
+
+And, like a perfume of other, fairer days, her youth, her imagination, and her happiness seemed to be wafted towards the echo of this invocation.
+
+Chapter LXV. The Lottery.
+
+By eight o’clock in the evening, every one had assembled in the queen-mother’s apartments. Anne of Austria, in full dress, beautiful still, from former loveliness, and from all the resources coquetry can command at the hands of clever assistants, concealed, or rather pretended to conceal, from the crowd of courtiers who surrounded her, and who still admired her, thanks to the combination of circumstances which we have indicated in the preceding chapter, the ravages, which were already visible, of the acute suffering to which she finally yielded a few years later. Madame, almost as great a coquette as Anne of Austria, and the queen, simple and natural as usual, were seated beside her, each contending for her good graces. The ladies of honor, united in a body, in order to resist with greater effect, and consequently with more success, the witty and lively conversations which the young men held about them, were enabled, like a battalion formed in a square, to offer each other the means of attack and defense which were thus at their command. Montalais, learned in that species of warfare which consists of sustained skirmishing, protected the whole line by a sort of rolling fire she directed against the enemy. Saint-Aignan, in utter despair at the rigor, which became almost insulting from the very fact of her persisting in it, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente displayed, tried to turn his back upon her; but, overcome by the irresistible brilliancy of her eyes, he, every moment, returned to consecrate his defeat by new submissions, to which Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente did not fail to reply by fresh acts of impertinence. Saint-Aignan did not know which way to turn. La Valliere had about her, not exactly a court, but sprinklings of courtiers. Saint-Aignan, hoping by this maneuver to attract Athenais’s attention towards him, approached the young girl, and saluted her with a respect that induced some to believe that he wished to balance Athenais by Louise. But these were persons who had neither been witnesses of the scene during the shower, nor had heard it spoken of. As the majority was already informed, and well informed, too, on the matter, the acknowledged favor with which she was regarded had attracted to her side some of the most astute, as well as the least sensible, members of the court. The former, because they said with Montaigne, “How do I know?” and the latter, who said with Rabelais, “Perhaps.” The greatest number had followed in the wake of the latter, just as in hunting five or six of the best hounds alone follow the scent of the animal hunted, whilst the remainder of the pack follow only the scent of the hounds. The two queens and Madame examined with particular attention the toilettes of their ladies and maids of honor; and they condescended to forget they were queens in recollecting that they were women. In other words, they pitilessly picked to pieces every person present who wore a petticoat. The looks of both princesses simultaneously fell upon La Valliere, who, as we have just said, was completely surrounded at that moment. Madame knew not what pity was, and said to the queen-mother, as she turned towards her, “If Fortune were just, she would favor that poor La Valliere.”
+
+“That is not possible,” said the queen-mother, smiling.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“There are only two hundred tickets, so that it was not possible to inscribe every one’s name on the list.”
+
+“And hers is not there, then?”
+
+“No!”
+
+“What a pity! she might have won them, and then sold them.”
+
+“Sold them!” exclaimed the queen.
+
+“Yes; it would have been a dowry for her, and she would not have been obliged to marry without her trousseau, as will probably be the case.”
+
+“Really,” answered the queen-mother, “poor little thing: has she no dresses, then?”
+
+And she pronounced these words like a woman who has never been able to understand the inconveniences of a slenderly filled purse.
+
+“Stay, look at her. Heaven forgive me, if she is not wearing the very same petticoat this evening that she had on this morning during the promenade, and which she managed to keep clean, thanks to the care the king took of her, in sheltering her from the rain.”
+
+At the very moment Madame uttered these words the king entered the room. The two queens would not perhaps have observed his arrival, so completely were they occupied in their ill-natured remarks, had not Madame noticed that, all at once, La Valliere, who was standing up facing the gallery, exhibited certain signs of confusion, and then said a few words to the courtiers who surrounded her, who immediately dispersed. This movement induced Madame to look towards the door, and at that moment, the captain of the guards announced the king. At this moment La Valliere, who had hitherto kept her eyes fixed upon the gallery, suddenly cast them down as the king entered. His majesty was dressed magnificently and in the most perfect taste; he was conversing with Monsieur and the Duc de Roquelaure, Monsieur on his right, and the Duc de Roquelaure on his left. The king advanced, in the first place, towards the queens, to whom he bowed with an air full of graceful respect. He took his mother’s hand and kissed it, addressed a few compliments to Madame upon the beauty of her toilette, and then began to make the round of the assembly. La Valliere was saluted in the same manner as the others, but with neither more nor less attention. His majesty then returned to his mother and his wife. When the courtiers noticed that the king had only addressed some ordinary remark to the young girl who had been so particularly noticed in the morning, they immediately drew their own conclusion to account for this coldness of manner; this conclusion being, that although the king may have taken a sudden fancy to her, that fancy had already disappeared. One thing, however, must be remarked, that close beside La Valliere, among the number of the courtiers, M. Fouquet was to be seen; and his respectfully attentive manner served to sustain the young girl in the midst of the varied emotions that visibly agitated her.
+
+M. Fouquet was just on the point, moreover, of speaking in a more friendly manner with Mademoiselle de la Valliere, when M. Colbert approached, and after having bowed to Fouquet with all the formality of respectful politeness, he seemed to take up a post beside La Valliere, for the purpose of entering into conversation with her. Fouquet immediately quitted his place. These proceedings were eagerly devoured by the eyes of Montalais and Malicorne, who mutually exchanged their observations on the subject. De Guiche, standing within the embrasure of one of the windows, saw no one but Madame. But as Madame, on her side, frequently glanced at La Valliere, De Guiche’s eyes, following Madame’s, were from time to time cast upon the young girl. La Valliere instinctively felt herself sinking beneath the weight of all these different looks, inspired, some by interest, others by envy. She had nothing to compensate her for her sufferings, not a kind word from her companions, nor a look of affection from the king. No one could possibly express the misery the poor girl was suffering. The queen-mother next directed the small table to be brought forward, on which the lottery-tickets were placed, two hundred in number, and begged Madame de Motteville to read the list of the names. It was a matter of course that this list had been drawn out in strict accordance with the laws of etiquette. The king’s name was first on the list, next the queen-mother, then the queen, Monsieur, Madame, and so on. All hearts throbbed anxiously as the list was read out; more than three hundred persons had been invited, and each of them was anxious to learn whether his or her name was to be found in the number of privileged names. The king listened with as much attention as the others, and when the last name had been pronounced, he noticed that La Valliere had been omitted from the list. Every one, of course, remarked this omission. The king flushed as if much annoyed; but La Valliere, gentle and resigned, as usual, exhibited nothing of the sort. While the list was being read, the king had not taken his eyes off the young girl, who seemed to expand, as it were, beneath the happy influence she felt was shed around her, and who was delighted and too pure in spirit for any other thought than that of love to find an entrance either to her mind or her heart. Acknowledging this touching self-denial by the fixity of his attention, the king showed La Valliere how much he appreciated its delicacy. When the list was finished, the different faces of those who had been omitted or forgotten fully expressed their disappointment. Malicorne was also left out from amongst the men; and the grimace he made plainly said to Montalais, who was also forgotten, “Cannot we contrive to arrange matters with Fortune in such a manner that she shall not forget us?” to which a smile full of intelligence from Mademoiselle Aure, replied: “Certainly we can.”
+
+The tickets were distributed to each according to the number listed. The king received his first, next the queen-mother, then Monsieur, then the queen and Madame, and so on. After this, Anne of Austria opened a small Spanish leather bag, containing two hundred numbers engraved upon small balls of mother-of-pearl, and presented the open sack to the youngest of her maids of honor, for the purpose of taking one of the balls out of it. The eager expectation of the throng, amidst all the tediously slow preparations, was rather that of cupidity than curiosity. Saint-Aignan bent towards Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente to whisper to her, “Since we have each a number, let us unite our two chances. The bracelet shall be yours if I win, and if you are successful, deign to give me but one look of your beautiful eyes.”
+
+“No,” said Athenais, “if you win the bracelet, keep it, every one for himself.”
+
+“You are without any pity,” said Saint-Aignan, “and I will punish you by a quatrain: -- 
+
+“Beautiful Iris, to my vows You are too opposed -- ”
+
+“Silence,” said Athenais, “you will prevent me hearing the winning number.”
+
+“Number one,” said the young girl who had drawn the mother-of-pearl from the Spanish leather bag.
+
+“The king!” exclaimed the queen-mother.
+
+“The king has won,” repeated the queen, delightedly.
+
+“Oh! the king! your dream!” said Madame, joyously, in the ear of Anne of Austria.
+
+The king was the only one who did not exhibit any satisfaction. He merely thanked Fortune for what she had done for him, in addressing a slight salutation to the young girl who had been chosen as her proxy. Then receiving from the hands of Anne of Austria, amid the eager desire of the whole assembly, the casket inclosing the bracelets, he said, “Are these bracelets really beautiful, then?”
+
+“Look at them,” said Anne of Austria, “and judge for yourself.”
+
+The king looked at them, and said, “Yes, indeed, an admirable medallion. What perfect finish!”
+
+Queen Maria Theresa easily saw, and that, too at the very first glance, that the king would not offer the bracelets to her; but, as he did not seem the least degree in the world disposed to offer them to Madame, she felt almost satisfied, or nearly so. The king sat down. The most intimate among the courtiers approached, one by one, for the purpose of admiring more closely the beautiful piece of workmanship, which soon, with the king’s permission, was handed about from person to person. Immediately, every one, connoisseurs or not, uttered various exclamations of surprise, and overwhelmed the king with congratulations. There was, in fact, something for everybody to admire -- the brilliance for some, and the cutting for others. The ladies present visibly displayed their impatience to see such a treasure monopolized by the gentlemen.
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said the king, whom nothing escaped, “one would almost think that you wore bracelets as the Sabines used to do; hand them round for a while for the inspection of the ladies, who seem to have, and with far greater right, an excuse for understanding such matters!”
+
+These words appeared to Madame the commencement of a decision she expected. She gathered, besides, this happy belief from the glances of the queen-mother. The courtier who held them at the moment the king made this remark, amidst the general agitation, hastened to place the bracelets in the hands of the queen, Maria Theresa, who, knowing too well, poor woman, that they were not designed for her, hardly looked at them, and almost immediately passed them on to Madame. The latter, and even more minutely, Monsieur, gave the bracelets a long look of anxious and almost covetous desire. She then handed the jewels to those ladies who were near her, pronouncing this single word, but with an accent which was worth a long phrase, “Magnificent!”
+
+The ladies who had received the bracelets from Madame’s hands looked at them as long as they chose to examine them, and then made them circulate by passing them on towards the right. During this time the king was tranquilly conversing with De Guiche and Fouquet, rather passively letting them talk than himself listening. Accustomed to the set form of ordinary phrases, his ear, like that of all men who exercise an incontestable superiority over others, merely selected from the conversations held in various directions the indispensable word which requires reply. His attention, however, was now elsewhere, for it wandered as his eyes did.
+
+Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente was the last of the ladies inscribed for tickets; and, as if she had ranked according to her name upon the list, she had only Montalais and La Valliere near her. When the bracelets reached these two latter, no one appeared to take any further notice of them. The humble hands which for a moment touched these jewels, deprived them, for the time, of their importance -- a circumstance which did not, however, prevent Montalais from starting with joy, envy, and covetous desire, at the sight of the beautiful stones still more than at their magnificent workmanship. It is evident that if she were compelled to decide between the pecuniary value and the artistic beauty, Montalais would unhesitatingly have preferred diamonds to cameos, and her disinclination, therefore, to pass them on to her companion, La Valliere, was very great. La Valliere fixed a look almost of indifference upon the jewels.
+
+“Oh, how beautiful, how magnificent these bracelets are!” exclaimed Montalais; “and yet you do not go into ecstasies about them, Louise! You are no true woman, I am sure.”
+
+“Yes, I am, indeed,” replied the young girl, with an accent of the most charming melancholy; “but why desire that which can never, by any possibility, be ours?”
+
+The king, his head bent forward, was listening to what Louise was saying. Hardly had the vibration of her voice reached his ear than he rose, radiant with delight, and passing across the whole assembly, from the place where he stood, to La Valliere, “You are mistaken, mademoiselle,” he said, “you are a woman, and every woman has a right to wear jewels, which are a woman’s appurtenance.”
+
+“Oh, sire!” said La Valliere, “your majesty will not absolutely believe in my modesty?”
+
+“I believe you possess every virtue, mademoiselle; frankness as well as every other; I entreat you, therefore, to say frankly what you think of these bracelets?”
+
+“That they are beautiful, sire, and cannot be offered to any other than a queen.”
+
+“I am delighted that such is your opinion, mademoiselle; the bracelets are yours, and the king begs your acceptance of them.”
+
+And as, with a movement almost resembling terror, La Valliere eagerly held out the casket to the king, the king gently pushed back her trembling hand.
+
+A silence of astonishment, more profound than that of death, reigned in the assembly.
+
+And yet, from the side where the queens were, no one had heard what he had said, nor understood what he had done. A charitable friend, however, took upon herself to spread the news; it was Tonnay-Charente, to whom Madame had made a sign to approach.
+
+“Good heavens!” explained Tonnay-Charente, “how happy that La Valliere is! the king has just given her the bracelets.”
+
+Madame bit her lips to such a degree that the blood appeared upon the surface of the skin. The young queen looked first at La Valliere and then at Madame, and began to laugh. Anne of Austria rested her chin upon her beautiful white hand, and remained for a long time absorbed by a presentiment that disturbed her mind, and by a terrible pang which stung her heart. De Guiche, observing Madame turn pale, and guessing the cause of her change of color, abruptly quitted the assembly and disappeared. Malicorne was then able to approach Montalais very quietly, and under cover of the general din of conversation, said to her:
+
+“Aure, your fortune and our future are standing at your elbow.”
+
+“Yes,” was her reply, as she tenderly embraced La Valliere, whom, inwardly, she was tempted to strangle.
+
+End of Ten Years Later. The next text in the series is Louise de la Valliere.
+
+Footnotes:
+
+[Footnote 1: In the three-volume edition, Volume 1, entitled The Vicomte de Bragelonne, ends here.]
+
+[Footnote 2: In most other editions, the previous chapter and the next are usually combined into one chapter, entitled “D’Artagnan calls De Wardes to account.”]
+
+[Footnote 3: Dumas is mistaken. The events in the following chapters occurred in 1661.]
+
+[Footnote 4: In the five-volume edition, Volume 2 ends here.]
+
+[Footnote 5: The verses in this chapter have been re-written to give the flavor of them rather than the meaning. A more literal translation would look like this:
+
+“Guiche is the furnisher Of the maids of honor.”
+
+and -- 
+
+“He has stocked the birdcage; Montalais and -- ”
+
+It would be more accurate, though, to say “baited” rather than “stocked” in the second couplet.]
+
+[Footnote 6: The Latin translates to “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”]
+
+[Footnote 7: “Ad majorem Dei gloriam” was the motto of the Jesuits. It translates to “For the greater glory of God.”]
+
+[Footnote 8: “In the presence of these men?”]
+
+[Footnote 9: “By this sign you shall conquer.”]
+
+[Footnote 10: “It rained all night long; the games will be held tomorrow.”]
+
+[Footnote 11: “Lord, I am not worthy.”]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5863/metadata.json b/test/5863/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4ff111b478ecb1d20cea196439f6f607d16eebe3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5863/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "5863", "title": "Ten Years Later", "description": "After <i>The Three Muskateers</i> and <i>Twenty Years After</i> the adventurous story of Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan continues!<br><br><i>The Vicomte of Bragelonne: Ten Years Later</i> (French: <i>Le Vicomte de Bragelonne ou Dix ans plus tard</i>) is the last of the Musketeer novels. It is usually divided into four volumes and this second volume contains chapters 76-140. (Summary by Diana Majlinger)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2681", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1850", "num_sections": "65", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/5863", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/tenyears_later_1301_librivox/tenyears_later_1301_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Vicomte_de_Bragelonne", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/ten-years-later-by-alexandre-dumas/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "19:47:26", "totaltimesecs": 71246, "authors": [{"id": "431", "first_name": "Alexandre", "last_name": "Dumas", "dob": "1802", "dod": "1870"}], "genre": ["Action & Adventure Fiction", "Historical Fiction", "Romance"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["tenyearslater_01_dumas", "tenyearslater_02_dumas", "tenyearslater_03_dumas", "tenyearslater_04_dumas", "tenyearslater_05_dumas", "tenyearslater_06_dumas", "tenyearslater_07_dumas", "tenyearslater_08_dumas", "tenyearslater_09_dumas", "tenyearslater_10_dumas", "tenyearslater_11_dumas", "tenyearslater_12_dumas", "tenyearslater_13_dumas", "tenyearslater_14_dumas", "tenyearslater_15_dumas", "tenyearslater_16_dumas", "tenyearslater_17_dumas", "tenyearslater_18_dumas", "tenyearslater_19_dumas", "tenyearslater_20_dumas", "tenyearslater_21_dumas", "tenyearslater_22_dumas", "tenyearslater_23_dumas", "tenyearslater_24_dumas", "tenyearslater_25_dumas", "tenyearslater_26_dumas", "tenyearslater_27_dumas", "tenyearslater_28_dumas", "tenyearslater_29_dumas", "tenyearslater_30_dumas", "tenyearslater_31_dumas", "tenyearslater_32_dumas", "tenyearslater_33_dumas", "tenyearslater_34_dumas", "tenyearslater_35_dumas", "tenyearslater_36_dumas", "tenyearslater_37_dumas", "tenyearslater_38_dumas", "tenyearslater_39_dumas", "tenyearslater_40_dumas", "tenyearslater_41_dumas", "tenyearslater_42_dumas", "tenyearslater_43_dumas", "tenyearslater_44_dumas", "tenyearslater_45_dumas", "tenyearslater_46_dumas", "tenyearslater_47_dumas", "tenyearslater_48_dumas", "tenyearslater_49_dumas", "tenyearslater_50_dumas", "tenyearslater_51_dumas", "tenyearslater_52_dumas", "tenyearslater_53_dumas", "tenyearslater_54_dumas", "tenyearslater_55_dumas", "tenyearslater_56_dumas", "tenyearslater_57_dumas", "tenyearslater_58_dumas", "tenyearslater_59_dumas", "tenyearslater_60_dumas", "tenyearslater_61_dumas", "tenyearslater_62_dumas", "tenyearslater_63_dumas", "tenyearslater_64_dumas", "tenyearslater_65_dumas"], "readers": [["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["489"], ["5588"], ["6930"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["4484"], ["5588"], ["7131"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5588"], ["5927"], ["7131"], ["2033"], ["2033"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7434"], ["7434"], ["7434"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["7127"], ["7127"], ["7127"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["6418"], ["5927"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["7131"], ["5038"], ["5038"], ["6754"], ["6754"], ["6754"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json b/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..91d2001bc2bc70f60a24b7fad8ee5fe164a6dda0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5957/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4992/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/blackpoodle_02_anstey_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4992", "quotations": [{"text": "'wear a mask,", "start_byte": 22477, "end_byte": 22490, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 62.08000183105469, "end_time": 63.20000076293945, "cut_start_time": 62.05500183105469, "cut_end_time": 62.89006433105469, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'over my hollow heart.", "start_byte": 22544, "end_byte": 22566, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 66.91999816894531, "end_time": 69.31999969482422, "cut_start_time": 67.1049981689453, "cut_end_time": 68.4900606689453, "narrative_prediction": {"expressed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I don't see the dog,", "start_byte": 25356, "end_byte": 25377, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 261.5199890136719, "end_time": 263.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 261.8949890136719, "cut_end_time": 263.4200515136719, "narrative_prediction": {"began": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?", "start_byte": 25388, "end_byte": 25457, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 264.1199951171875, "end_time": 269.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 264.2349951171875, "cut_end_time": 268.7400576171875, "narrative_prediction": {"wondered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Why, the fact is,", "start_byte": 25553, "end_byte": 25571, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 275.44000244140625, "end_time": 276.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 275.86500244140626, "cut_end_time": 277.06000244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'", "start_byte": 25628, "end_byte": 25690, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 280.0799865722656, "end_time": 285.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 280.25498657226564, "cut_end_time": 284.52004907226564, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "heavily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!", "start_byte": 25692, "end_byte": 25736, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 285.67999267578125, "end_time": 288.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 286.0749926757813, "cut_end_time": 288.70011767578126, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "plaintively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I wouldn't have believed it of him,", "start_byte": 25833, "end_byte": 25869, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 294.1600036621094, "end_time": 296.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 294.8350036621094, "cut_end_time": 296.7400661621094, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'", "start_byte": 25889, "end_byte": 25984, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 297.67999267578125, "end_time": 304.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 297.85499267578126, "cut_end_time": 303.62005517578126, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, Uncle!", "start_byte": 25986, "end_byte": 25997, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 304.239990234375, "end_time": 305.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 304.654990234375, "cut_end_time": 305.54011523437504, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'", "start_byte": 26015, "end_byte": 26107, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 306.3999938964844, "end_time": 313.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 306.3849938964844, "cut_end_time": 313.0800563964844, "narrative_prediction": {"pleaded": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Shot!", "start_byte": 26109, "end_byte": 26115, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 313.67999267578125, "end_time": 314.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 314.03499267578127, "cut_end_time": 314.4100551757813, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'", "start_byte": 26145, "end_byte": 26409, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 315.79998779296875, "end_time": 330.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 315.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 330.44005029296875, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "angrily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'He's not dead!", "start_byte": 26481, "end_byte": 26496, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 336.0, "end_time": 337.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 336.565, "cut_end_time": 337.61, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'", "start_byte": 26517, "end_byte": 26564, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 338.3599853515625, "end_time": 341.0, "cut_start_time": 338.3349853515625, "cut_end_time": 340.8000478515625, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'m certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'", "start_byte": 26586, "end_byte": 26927, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 343.1199951171875, "end_time": 366.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 343.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 365.80012011718753, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Unless what?", "start_byte": 28782, "end_byte": 28795, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 502.1199951171875, "end_time": 503.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 502.3649951171875, "cut_end_time": 503.29012011718754, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'", "start_byte": 28806, "end_byte": 28923, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 505.1199951171875, "end_time": 513.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 505.3049951171875, "cut_end_time": 512.1801201171875, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Do you want to know really?", "start_byte": 28925, "end_byte": 28953, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 513.0800170898438, "end_time": 515.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 513.5350170898438, "cut_end_time": 515.2500170898438, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'", "start_byte": 29001, "end_byte": 29040, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 518.0800170898438, "end_time": 521.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 518.3950170898438, "cut_end_time": 521.5300795898438, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'What about Bingo?", "start_byte": 29152, "end_byte": 29170, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 530.5599975585938, "end_time": 532.0, "cut_start_time": 530.9049975585938, "cut_end_time": 532.0800600585937, "narrative_prediction": {"managed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "pronounce": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "dry": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 8}}}, {"text": "'You never l-loved him when he was here,", "start_byte": 29216, "end_byte": 29256, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 535.2000122070312, "end_time": 538.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 535.5350122070313, "cut_end_time": 538.3400122070312, "narrative_prediction": {"sobbed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'you know you didn't!'", "start_byte": 29270, "end_byte": 29292, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 538.8800048828125, "end_time": 540.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 538.8850048828125, "cut_end_time": 540.1400673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"sobbed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'No,", "start_byte": 29345, "end_byte": 29349, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 545.6799926757812, "end_time": 546.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 546.0149926757813, "cut_end_time": 546.4201176757813, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'", "start_byte": 29368, "end_byte": 29528, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 547.8800048828125, "end_time": 558.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 548.0850048828125, "cut_end_time": 557.9800673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Not for that,", "start_byte": 29530, "end_byte": 29544, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 558.8800048828125, "end_time": 560.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 559.2250048828125, "cut_end_time": 560.1300048828125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'", "start_byte": 29556, "end_byte": 29788, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 560.6400146484375, "end_time": 576.0, "cut_start_time": 560.6350146484375, "cut_end_time": 575.6700146484375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'What do you mean, Lilian?", "start_byte": 29790, "end_byte": 29816, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 576.0, "end_time": 578.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 576.835, "cut_end_time": 578.3000625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hoarsely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'How could I find him?", "start_byte": 29835, "end_byte": 29857, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 579.0800170898438, "end_time": 580.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 579.0550170898438, "cut_end_time": 580.3600795898437, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hoarsely": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'You'r", "start_byte": 29886, "end_byte": 29892, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 582.9199829101562, "end_time": 583.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 582.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 583.3801079101563, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'You know that isn't just, Lilian,", "start_byte": 30549, "end_byte": 30583, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 627.4400024414062, "end_time": 629.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 627.8050024414063, "cut_end_time": 630.0200024414063, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'But only tell me what you want me to do?'", "start_byte": 30596, "end_byte": 30638, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 630.6400146484375, "end_time": 634.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 630.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 634.2600146484375, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!", "start_byte": 30640, "end_byte": 30672, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 634.1599731445312, "end_time": 636.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 634.3549731445313, "cut_end_time": 636.2400356445313, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Bring back Bingo!", "start_byte": 30685, "end_byte": 30703, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 637.4400024414062, "end_time": 639.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 637.6950024414062, "cut_end_time": 639.2600024414063, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'", "start_byte": 30724, "end_byte": 30812, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 640.5999755859375, "end_time": 646.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 640.9549755859375, "cut_end_time": 645.9401005859376, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I can't help it,", "start_byte": 30814, "end_byte": 30831, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 646.3200073242188, "end_time": 648.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 646.9050073242188, "cut_end_time": 648.1600698242188, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you'r", "start_byte": 30843, "end_byte": 31030, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 648.9199829101562, "end_time": 659.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 649.1949829101562, "cut_end_time": 659.9000454101563, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "not": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "quite": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}, "sincere": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'followed a gentleman", "start_byte": 32657, "end_byte": 32678, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 776.0800170898438, "end_time": 777.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 776.1150170898437, "cut_end_time": 777.2200170898437, "narrative_prediction": {"had": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'That there's him,", "start_byte": 33650, "end_byte": 33668, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 843.4400024414062, "end_time": 844.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 843.6750024414063, "cut_end_time": 844.5400649414063, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'doppel-g\u00e4nger", "start_byte": 34201, "end_byte": 34215, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 880.47998046875, "end_time": 881.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 880.49498046875, "cut_end_time": 881.42010546875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'", "start_byte": 34795, "end_byte": 34853, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 923.1599731445312, "end_time": 927.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 923.1549731445313, "cut_end_time": 926.7200356445313, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'He don't seem to be a puttin", "start_byte": 34855, "end_byte": 34884, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 927.47998046875, "end_time": 929.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 928.20498046875, "cut_end_time": 929.86010546875, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'isself out about seeing you again,", "start_byte": 34889, "end_byte": 34924, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 929.9199829101562, "end_time": 932.0, "cut_start_time": 929.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 932.0400454101563, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,", "start_byte": 34994, "end_byte": 35032, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 936.239990234375, "end_time": 939.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 936.734990234375, "cut_end_time": 939.510115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'he belongs to a friend of mine!'", "start_byte": 35042, "end_byte": 35075, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 940.4000244140625, "end_time": 942.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 940.7050244140626, "cut_end_time": 942.3100869140625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Then maybe you'r", "start_byte": 35112, "end_byte": 35129, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 946.1599731445312, "end_time": 947.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 946.4449731445312, "cut_end_time": 947.5000981445313, "narrative_prediction": {"mistook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'ere werry evenin", "start_byte": 35226, "end_byte": 35243, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 952.7999877929688, "end_time": 953.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 952.8649877929688, "cut_end_time": 953.9000502929688, "narrative_prediction": {"to": {"id": "1", "type": "preposition", "confidence": 7}}}, {"text": "'But look here,", "start_byte": 35348, "end_byte": 35363, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 960.7999877929688, "end_time": 962.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 961.5349877929688, "cut_end_time": 962.3400502929687, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'that's me.'", "start_byte": 35373, "end_byte": 35385, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 962.7999877929688, "end_time": 964.0, "cut_start_time": 962.7849877929688, "cut_end_time": 963.6500502929688, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'No offence, you know, guv'nor,", "start_byte": 35414, "end_byte": 35445, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 966.719970703125, "end_time": 968.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 966.974970703125, "cut_end_time": 968.740095703125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well,", "start_byte": 35557, "end_byte": 35563, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 975.0399780273438, "end_time": 975.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 975.5749780273437, "cut_end_time": 975.8200405273437, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'", "start_byte": 35573, "end_byte": 35620, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 976.4000244140625, "end_time": 980.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 976.3750244140625, "cut_end_time": 979.4000869140625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Ah,", "start_byte": 35804, "end_byte": 35808, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 992.4000244140625, "end_time": 993.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 992.8850244140625, "cut_end_time": 993.2200244140626, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordin", "start_byte": 35847, "end_byte": 36030, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 995.1599731445312, "end_time": 1005.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 995.3949731445313, "cut_end_time": 1005.9800981445313, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Will you believe now that I am sincere?", "start_byte": 38462, "end_byte": 38502, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1171.280029296875, "end_time": 1174.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1171.455029296875, "cut_end_time": 1173.9900917968748, "narrative_prediction": {"containing": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'re going to bring the dog to make friends. Oh, and I met Frank Travers; he's back from circuit again now, so I asked him in too, to meet them!'", "start_byte": 39428, "end_byte": 39572, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1234.43994140625, "end_time": 1244.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1234.41494140625, "cut_end_time": 1244.06000390625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Mr. Weatherhead -- Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?", "start_byte": 40260, "end_byte": 40351, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1289.52001953125, "end_time": 1297.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1289.7750195312499, "cut_end_time": 1296.76008203125, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "shyly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,", "start_byte": 41510, "end_byte": 41549, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1379.280029296875, "end_time": 1381.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1379.8350292968748, "cut_end_time": 1381.820029296875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'", "start_byte": 41569, "end_byte": 41850, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1382.6400146484375, "end_time": 1401.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1382.8150146484375, "cut_end_time": 1401.1000771484373, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'You can't think,", "start_byte": 42106, "end_byte": 42123, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1418.1199951171875, "end_time": 1419.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1418.6149951171874, "cut_end_time": 1419.7801201171874, "narrative_prediction": {"telling": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'", "start_byte": 42164, "end_byte": 42688, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1421.5999755859375, "end_time": 1454.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1421.5749755859374, "cut_end_time": 1454.1000380859375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,", "start_byte": 42690, "end_byte": 42730, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1454.9599609375, "end_time": 1457.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1455.5149609374998, "cut_end_time": 1458.0600234375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'", "start_byte": 42745, "end_byte": 42788, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1458.9200439453125, "end_time": 1461.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 1459.1450439453124, "cut_end_time": 1461.4101064453125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!", "start_byte": 42790, "end_byte": 42822, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1461.760009765625, "end_time": 1464.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1462.255009765625, "cut_end_time": 1464.310072265625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'", "start_byte": 42852, "end_byte": 42916, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1465.6800537109375, "end_time": 1470.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1465.9250537109374, "cut_end_time": 1469.1501162109373, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerily": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Ah, those cats!", "start_byte": 42918, "end_byte": 42934, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1470.0400390625, "end_time": 1471.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1470.3150390624999, "cut_end_time": 1471.6801015624999, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They'r", "start_byte": 42966, "end_byte": 43041, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1473.3599853515625, "end_time": 1477.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1473.5649853515624, "cut_end_time": 1476.9200478515625, "narrative_prediction": {"worse": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'That's a good idea,", "start_byte": 43141, "end_byte": 43161, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1485.5999755859375, "end_time": 1487.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1486.0349755859374, "cut_end_time": 1487.1401005859375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'bar-mess", "start_byte": 43189, "end_byte": 43198, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1488.719970703125, "end_time": 1489.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1488.704970703125, "cut_end_time": 1489.3900332031249, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?", "start_byte": 43214, "end_byte": 43276, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1490.47998046875, "end_time": 1495.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1490.61498046875, "cut_end_time": 1494.99004296875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,", "start_byte": 43364, "end_byte": 43416, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1502.0, "end_time": 1505.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 1502.5449999999998, "cut_end_time": 1505.8100625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'", "start_byte": 43434, "end_byte": 43635, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1506.8399658203125, "end_time": 1520.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1507.1649658203123, "cut_end_time": 1519.0300283203123, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well,", "start_byte": 43637, "end_byte": 43643, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1520.1199951171875, "end_time": 1520.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1520.4349951171873, "cut_end_time": 1520.7801201171874, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'", "start_byte": 43715, "end_byte": 43902, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1524.1600341796875, "end_time": 1536.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1524.4050341796874, "cut_end_time": 1535.6800966796875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'If you really won't take any more wine,", "start_byte": 43904, "end_byte": 43944, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1536.52001953125, "end_time": 1539.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1536.88501953125, "cut_end_time": 1539.38008203125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.", "start_byte": 44000, "end_byte": 44086, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1542.239990234375, "end_time": 1547.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1542.5449902343748, "cut_end_time": 1547.630115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "hurriedly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "But henceforth, if I meant to win Lilian, that boast must be relinquished for ever! I should have to lie now with all my might, without limit or scruple, to dissemble incessantly, and", "start_byte": 22293, "end_byte": 22476, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 49.68000030517578, "end_time": 62.08000183105469, "cut_start_time": 50.05500030517578, "cut_end_time": 62.18006280517578}, {"text": " as the poet Bunn beautifully expressed it long ago,", "start_byte": 22491, "end_byte": 22543, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 63.20000076293945, "end_time": 66.91999816894531, "cut_start_time": 63.455000762939456, "cut_end_time": 66.66000076293946}, {"text": " I felt all this keenly -- I did not think it was right -- but what was I to do?", "start_byte": 22567, "end_byte": 22647, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 69.31999969482422, "end_time": 75.5199966430664, "cut_start_time": 69.78499969482421, "cut_end_time": 74.58006219482421}, {"text": "After thinking all this out very carefully, I decided that my only course was to bury the poor animal where he fell and say nothing about it. With some vague idea of precaution I first took off the silver collar he wore, and then hastily interred him with a garden-trowel and succeeded in removing all traces of the disaster.", "start_byte": 22649, "end_byte": 22974, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 75.5199966430664, "end_time": 97.5199966430664, "cut_start_time": 75.9549966430664, "cut_end_time": 97.0200591430664}, {"text": "I fancy I felt a certain relief in the knowledge that there would now be no necessity to tell my pitiful story and risk the loss of my neighbours' esteem.", "start_byte": 22976, "end_byte": 23130, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 97.5199966430664, "end_time": 107.87999725341797, "cut_start_time": 98.0849966430664, "cut_end_time": 107.2800591430664}, {"text": "By-and-by, I thought, I would plant a rose-tree over his remains, and some day, as Lilian and I, in the noontide of our domestic bliss, stood before it admiring its creamy luxuriance, I might (perhaps) find courage to confess that the tree owed some of that luxuriance to the long-lost Bingo.", "start_byte": 23132, "end_byte": 23424, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 107.87999725341797, "end_time": 128.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 108.32499725341796, "cut_end_time": 127.69005975341796}, {"text": "There was a touch of poetry in this idea that lightened my gloom for the moment.", "start_byte": 23426, "end_byte": 23506, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 128.1199951171875, "end_time": 133.83999633789062, "cut_start_time": 128.7549951171875, "cut_end_time": 133.3000576171875}, {"text": "I need scarcely say that I did not go round to Shuturgarden that evening. I was not hardened enough for that yet -- my manner might betray me, and so I very prudently stayed at home.", "start_byte": 23508, "end_byte": 23690, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 133.83999633789062, "end_time": 146.0, "cut_start_time": 134.39499633789063, "cut_end_time": 145.58005883789062}, {"text": "But that night my sleep was broken by frightful dreams. I was perpetually trying to bury a great gaunt poodle, which would persist in rising up through the damp mould as fast as I covered him up.... Lilian and I were engaged, and we were in church together on Sunday, and the poodle, resisting all attempts to eject him, forbade our banns with sepulchral barks.... It was our wedding-day, and at the critical moment the poodle leaped between us and swallowed the ring.... Or we were at the wedding-breakfast, and Bingo, a grizzly black skeleton with flaming eyes, sat on the cake and would not allow Lilian to cut it. Even the rose-tree fancy was reproduced in a distorted form -- the tree grew, and every blossom contained a miniature Bingo, which barked; and as I woke I was desperately trying to persuade the Colonel that they were ordinary dog-roses.", "start_byte": 23692, "end_byte": 24546, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 146.0, "end_time": 206.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 146.465, "cut_end_time": 205.42}, {"text": "I went up to the office next day with my gloomy secret gnawing my bosom, and, whatever I did, the spectre of the murdered poodle rose before me. For two days after that I dared not go near the Curries, until at last one evening after dinner I forced myself to call, feeling that it was really not safe to keep away any longer.", "start_byte": 24548, "end_byte": 24874, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 206.67999267578125, "end_time": 228.75999450683594, "cut_start_time": 207.60499267578123, "cut_end_time": 227.88005517578125}, {"text": "My conscience smote me as I went in. I put on an unconscious easy manner, which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they were too much engrossed to notice it.", "start_byte": 24876, "end_byte": 25054, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 228.75999450683594, "end_time": 241.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 229.17499450683593, "cut_end_time": 240.92005700683592}, {"text": "I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.", "start_byte": 25056, "end_byte": 25354, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 241.63999938964844, "end_time": 261.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 242.06499938964842, "cut_end_time": 261.21006188964844}, {"text": " I began.", "start_byte": 25378, "end_byte": 25387, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 263.3599853515625, "end_time": 264.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 263.3649853515625, "cut_end_time": 264.1900478515625}, {"text": " I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.", "start_byte": 25458, "end_byte": 25551, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 269.3999938964844, "end_time": 275.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 269.8849938964844, "cut_end_time": 274.5001188964844}, {"text": " said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache,", "start_byte": 25572, "end_byte": 25627, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 276.9599914550781, "end_time": 280.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 276.93499145507815, "cut_end_time": 279.84005395507813}, {"text": " said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.", "start_byte": 25737, "end_byte": 25831, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 288.6400146484375, "end_time": 294.1600036621094, "cut_start_time": 288.8950146484375, "cut_end_time": 293.3800771484375}, {"text": " said the Colonel;", "start_byte": 25870, "end_byte": 25888, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 296.6400146484375, "end_time": 297.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 296.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 297.42001464843753}, {"text": " pleaded Lilian,", "start_byte": 25998, "end_byte": 26014, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 305.44000244140625, "end_time": 306.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 305.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 306.50000244140625}, {"text": " cried the Colonel, angrily.", "start_byte": 26116, "end_byte": 26144, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 314.3999938964844, "end_time": 315.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 314.4349938964844, "cut_end_time": 315.9000563964844}, {"text": "I said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.", "start_byte": 26411, "end_byte": 26479, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 330.8399963378906, "end_time": 336.0, "cut_start_time": 331.16499633789067, "cut_end_time": 335.1700588378906}, {"text": " cried Mrs. Currie.", "start_byte": 26497, "end_byte": 26516, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 337.5199890136719, "end_time": 338.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 337.4949890136719, "cut_end_time": 338.4600515136719}, {"text": " sure I should! But ", "start_byte": 26565, "end_byte": 26585, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 341.20001220703125, "end_time": 342.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 341.1750122070313, "cut_end_time": 342.1000122070313}, {"text": "It will be easily understood what torture conversations like these were to me, and how I hated myself as I sympathised and spoke encouraging words concerning the dog's recovery, when I knew all the time he was lying hid under my garden mould. But I took it as a part of my punishment, and bore it all uncomplainingly; practice even made me an adept in the art of consolation -- I believe I really was a great comfort to them.", "start_byte": 26929, "end_byte": 27354, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 366.32000732421875, "end_time": 397.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 366.7750073242188, "cut_end_time": 396.56000732421876}, {"text": "I had hoped that they would soon get over the first bitterness of their loss, and that Bingo would be first replaced and then forgotten in the usual way; but there seemed no signs of this coming to pass.", "start_byte": 27356, "end_byte": 27559, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 397.2799987792969, "end_time": 410.0, "cut_start_time": 397.7549987792969, "cut_end_time": 409.4700612792969}, {"text": "The poor Colonel was too plainly fretting himself ill about it; he went pottering about forlornly -- advertising, searching, and seeing people, but all of course to no purpose, and it told upon him. He was more like a man whose only son and heir had been stolen, than an Anglo-Indian officer who had lost a poodle. I had to affect the liveliest interest in all his inquiries and expeditions, and to listen to, and echo, the most extravagant eulogies of the departed, and the wear and tear of so much duplicity made me at last almost as ill as the Colonel himself.", "start_byte": 27561, "end_byte": 28124, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 410.0, "end_time": 451.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 410.605, "cut_end_time": 450.43}, {"text": "I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.", "start_byte": 28126, "end_byte": 28780, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 451.55999755859375, "end_time": 502.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 452.2049975585938, "cut_end_time": 501.3600600585938}, {"text": " I asked.", "start_byte": 28796, "end_byte": 28805, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 503.32000732421875, "end_time": 505.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 503.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 504.1700073242188}, {"text": " she said, looking up at me through her tears.", "start_byte": 28954, "end_byte": 29000, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 515.1599731445312, "end_time": 518.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 515.2349731445313, "cut_end_time": 517.8100981445313}, {"text": "I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once!", "start_byte": 29042, "end_byte": 29151, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 521.8400268554688, "end_time": 530.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 522.5550268554688, "cut_end_time": 530.0000268554687}, {"text": " I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.", "start_byte": 29171, "end_byte": 29214, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 532.0, "end_time": 535.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 531.975, "cut_end_time": 534.5000625}, {"text": " she sobbed;", "start_byte": 29257, "end_byte": 29269, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 538.239990234375, "end_time": 538.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 538.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 538.880115234375}, {"text": "I was relieved to find it was no worse than this.", "start_byte": 29294, "end_byte": 29343, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 540.9600219726562, "end_time": 545.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 541.4650219726562, "cut_end_time": 544.2500219726563}, {"text": " I said candidly;", "start_byte": 29350, "end_byte": 29367, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 546.3200073242188, "end_time": 547.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 546.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 547.7100698242187}, {"text": " she said;", "start_byte": 29545, "end_byte": 29555, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 560.0399780273438, "end_time": 560.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 560.1349780273438, "cut_end_time": 560.6901030273438}, {"text": " I said hoarsely.", "start_byte": 29817, "end_byte": 29834, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 578.2000122070312, "end_time": 579.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 578.1750122070313, "cut_end_time": 579.1800747070313}, {"text": " Again I feared the worst.", "start_byte": 29858, "end_byte": 29884, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 580.760009765625, "end_time": 582.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 580.835009765625, "cut_end_time": 582.410009765625}, {"text": " in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'", "start_byte": 29893, "end_byte": 30116, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 583.47998046875, "end_time": 597.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 583.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 596.76010546875}, {"text": "Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.", "start_byte": 30118, "end_byte": 30406, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 597.8400268554688, "end_time": 617.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 597.9950268554687, "cut_end_time": 616.5400893554688}, {"text": "He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.", "start_byte": 30408, "end_byte": 30547, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 617.280029296875, "end_time": 627.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 617.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 626.990091796875}, {"text": " I observed", "start_byte": 30584, "end_byte": 30595, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 629.9199829101562, "end_time": 630.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 629.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 630.7401079101563}, {"text": " she said.", "start_byte": 30673, "end_byte": 30683, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 636.239990234375, "end_time": 637.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 636.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 636.960115234375}, {"text": " I cried in horror.", "start_byte": 30704, "end_byte": 30723, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 639.1599731445312, "end_time": 640.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 639.1349731445313, "cut_end_time": 640.4200356445313}, {"text": " she said;", "start_byte": 30832, "end_byte": 30842, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 648.2000122070312, "end_time": 648.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 648.2050122070312, "cut_end_time": 648.8500122070312}, {"text": " not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'", "start_byte": 31031, "end_byte": 31187, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 659.9199829101562, "end_time": 671.0, "cut_start_time": 659.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 670.3500454101563}, {"text": "It was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.", "start_byte": 31189, "end_byte": 31507, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 671.0, "end_time": 694.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 671.825, "cut_end_time": 693.19}, {"text": "I left her with a heavy heart. Unless I proved my worth by bringing back Bingo within a very short time, Travers would probably have everything his own way. And Bingo was dead!", "start_byte": 31509, "end_byte": 31685, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 694.239990234375, "end_time": 707.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 694.9049902343751, "cut_end_time": 706.670115234375}, {"text": "However, I took heart. I thought that perhaps if I could succeed by my earnest efforts in persuading Lilian that I really was doing all in my power to recover the poodle, she might relent in time, and dispense with his actual production.", "start_byte": 31687, "end_byte": 31924, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 707.52001953125, "end_time": 724.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 707.79501953125, "cut_end_time": 723.15008203125}, {"text": "So, partly with this object, and partly to appease the remorse which now revived and stung me deeper than before, I undertook long and weary pilgrimages after office hours. I spent many pounds in advertisements; I interviewed dogs of every size, colour, and breed, and of course I took care to keep Lilian informed of each successive failure. But still her heart was not touched; she was firm. If I went on like that, she told me, I was certain to find Bingo one day -- then, but not before, would her doubts be set at rest.", "start_byte": 31926, "end_byte": 32450, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 724.2000122070312, "end_time": 763.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 724.6050122070312, "cut_end_time": 762.3400747070312}, {"text": "I was walking one day through the somewhat squalid district which lies between Bow Street and High Holborn, when I saw, in a small theatrical costumier's window, a handbill stating that a black poodle had", "start_byte": 32452, "end_byte": 32656, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 763.280029296875, "end_time": 776.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 763.8350292968751, "cut_end_time": 776.1000917968751}, {"text": " on a certain date, and if not claimed and the finder remunerated before a stated time, would be sold to pay expenses.", "start_byte": 32679, "end_byte": 32797, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 777.1199951171875, "end_time": 785.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 777.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 784.9700576171875}, {"text": "I went in and got a copy of the bill to show Lilian, and although by that time I scarcely dared to look a poodle in the face, I thought I would go to the address given and see the animal, simply to be able to tell Lilian I had done so.", "start_byte": 32799, "end_byte": 33034, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 785.6799926757812, "end_time": 801.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 786.1649926757813, "cut_end_time": 801.0901176757812}, {"text": "The gentleman whom the dog had very unaccountably followed was a certain Mr. William Blagg, who kept a little shop near Endell Street, and called himself a bird-fancier, though I should scarcely have credited him with the necessary imagination. He was an evil-browed ruffian in a fur cap, with a broad broken nose and little shifty red eyes, and after I had told him what I wanted, he took me through a horrible little den, stacked with piles of wooden, wire, and wicker prisons, each quivering with restless, twittering life, and then out into a back yard, in which were two or three rotten old kennels and tubs.", "start_byte": 33036, "end_byte": 33649, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 801.280029296875, "end_time": 843.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 801.625029296875, "cut_end_time": 842.540091796875}, {"text": " he said, jerking his thumb to the farthest tub; 'follered me all the way 'ome from Kinsington Gardings, he did. Kim out, will yer?'", "start_byte": 33669, "end_byte": 33801, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 844.4400024414062, "end_time": 852.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 844.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 851.5400649414063}, {"text": "And out of the tub there crawled slowly, with a snuffling whimper and a rattling of its chain, the identical dog I had slain a few evenings before!", "start_byte": 33803, "end_byte": 33950, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 852.0800170898438, "end_time": 862.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 852.4250170898438, "cut_end_time": 862.3400795898438}, {"text": "At least, so I thought for a moment, and felt as if I had seen a spectre; the resemblance was so exact -- in size, in every detail, even to the little clumps of hair about the hind parts, even to the lop of half an ear, this dog might have been the", "start_byte": 33952, "end_byte": 34200, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 862.9600219726562, "end_time": 880.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 863.4950219726562, "cut_end_time": 880.5800219726563}, {"text": " of the deceased Bingo. I suppose, after all, one black poodle is very like any other black poodle of the same size, but the likeness startled me.", "start_byte": 34216, "end_byte": 34362, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 881.3200073242188, "end_time": 891.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 881.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 891.2700698242188}, {"text": "I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.", "start_byte": 34364, "end_byte": 34687, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 891.8400268554688, "end_time": 915.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 892.3550268554687, "cut_end_time": 914.5600268554688}, {"text": "Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly,", "start_byte": 34689, "end_byte": 34794, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 915.5999755859375, "end_time": 923.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 915.7849755859376, "cut_end_time": 923.2000380859375}, {"text": " of", "start_byte": 34885, "end_byte": 34888, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 929.760009765625, "end_time": 929.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 929.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 930.020009765625}, {"text": " observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.", "start_byte": 34925, "end_byte": 34992, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 932.0, "end_time": 936.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 932.1750000000001, "cut_end_time": 935.88}, {"text": " I said;", "start_byte": 35033, "end_byte": 35041, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 939.6400146484375, "end_time": 940.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 939.8050146484376, "cut_end_time": 940.4300771484375}, {"text": "He gave me a quick furtive glance.", "start_byte": 35077, "end_byte": 35111, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 942.9600219726562, "end_time": 946.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 943.4450219726563, "cut_end_time": 945.5300219726563}, {"text": " mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this", "start_byte": 35130, "end_byte": 35225, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 947.47998046875, "end_time": 952.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 947.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 952.87004296875}, {"text": " to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'", "start_byte": 35244, "end_byte": 35346, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 953.7999877929688, "end_time": 960.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 953.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 960.4200502929688}, {"text": " I said,", "start_byte": 35364, "end_byte": 35372, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 962.239990234375, "end_time": 962.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 962.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 962.840052734375}, {"text": "He gave me a curious leer.", "start_byte": 35387, "end_byte": 35413, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 964.0, "end_time": 966.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 964.365, "cut_end_time": 966.47}, {"text": " he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'", "start_byte": 35446, "end_byte": 35555, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 968.6400146484375, "end_time": 975.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 968.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 973.7200146484375}, {"text": " I said,", "start_byte": 35564, "end_byte": 35572, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 975.719970703125, "end_time": 976.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 975.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 976.500095703125}, {"text": "He took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog.", "start_byte": 35622, "end_byte": 35803, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 980.3200073242188, "end_time": 992.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 980.7450073242188, "cut_end_time": 991.8500698242187}, {"text": " he said, as he put it in his pocket,", "start_byte": 35809, "end_byte": 35846, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 993.1199951171875, "end_time": 995.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 993.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 994.8800576171875}, {"text": ", you see.'", "start_byte": 36031, "end_byte": 36042, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1006.0800170898438, "end_time": 1007.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 1006.0550170898438, "cut_end_time": 1006.5100795898438}, {"text": "I wanted to get the hateful business over as soon as possible. I did not care what I paid -- Lilian was worth all the expense! I said I had no doubt myself as to the real ownership of the animal, but I would give him any sum in reason, and would remove the dog at once.", "start_byte": 36044, "end_byte": 36313, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1007.2000122070312, "end_time": 1025.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1007.9150122070313, "cut_end_time": 1024.2000122070312}, {"text": "And so we settled it. I paid him an extortionate sum, and came away with a duplicate poodle, a canine counterfeit which I hoped to pass off at Shuturgarden as the long-lost Bingo.", "start_byte": 36315, "end_byte": 36494, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1025.239990234375, "end_time": 1038.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1025.7849902343748, "cut_end_time": 1038.100052734375}, {"text": "I know it was wrong -- it even came unpleasantly near dog-stealing -- but I was a desperate man. I saw Lilian gradually slipping away from me, I knew that nothing short of this could ever recall her, I was sorely tempted, I had gone far on the same road already, it was the old story of being hung for a sheep. And so I fell.", "start_byte": 36496, "end_byte": 36821, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1038.8399658203125, "end_time": 1064.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1039.7249658203125, "cut_end_time": 1063.5100283203124}, {"text": "Surely some who read this will be generous enough to consider the peculiar state of the case, and mingle a little pity with their contempt.", "start_byte": 36823, "end_byte": 36962, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1064.1199951171875, "end_time": 1072.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1064.7349951171875, "cut_end_time": 1072.0601201171874}, {"text": "I was dining in town that evening and took my purchase home by a late train; his demeanour was grave and intensely respectable; he was not the animal to commit himself by any flagrant indiscretion -- he was gentle and tractable, too, and in all respects an agreeable contrast in character to the original. Still, it may have been the after-dinner workings of conscience, but I could not help fancying that I saw a certain look in the creature's eyes, as if he were aware that he was required to connive at a fraud, and rather resented it.", "start_byte": 36964, "end_byte": 37502, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1072.9200439453125, "end_time": 1107.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1073.5950439453125, "cut_end_time": 1106.6901064453125}, {"text": "If he would only be good enough to back me up! Fortunately, however, he was such a perfect facsimile of the outward Bingo, that the risk of detection was really inconsiderable.", "start_byte": 37504, "end_byte": 37680, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1107.6800537109375, "end_time": 1120.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1108.1750537109374, "cut_end_time": 1119.7700537109374}, {"text": "When I got him home, I put Bingo's silver collar round his neck -- congratulating myself on my forethought in preserving it, and took him in to see my mother. She accepted him as what he seemed, without the slightest misgiving; but this, though it encouraged me to go on, was not decisive, the spurious poodle would have to encounter the scrutiny of those who knew every tuft on the genuine animal's body!", "start_byte": 37682, "end_byte": 38087, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1120.47998046875, "end_time": 1147.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1121.0249804687498, "cut_end_time": 1146.23004296875}, {"text": "Nothing would have induced me to undergo such an ordeal as that of personally restoring him to the Curries. We gave him supper, and tied him up on the lawn, where he howled dolefully all night, and buried bones.", "start_byte": 38089, "end_byte": 38300, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1147.43994140625, "end_time": 1161.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1147.7149414062499, "cut_end_time": 1160.4400664062498}, {"text": "The next morning I wrote a note to Mrs. Currie, expressing my pleasure at being able to restore the lost one, and another to Lilian, containing only the words,", "start_byte": 38302, "end_byte": 38461, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1161.280029296875, "end_time": 1171.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1161.915029296875, "cut_end_time": 1170.9900917968748}, {"text": " Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.", "start_byte": 38503, "end_byte": 38649, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1174.4000244140625, "end_time": 1184.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1174.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1183.0200244140624}, {"text": "* * * * *", "start_byte": 38651, "end_byte": 38660, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1184.3199462890625, "end_time": 1184.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1184.2949462890624, "cut_end_time": 1184.4200087890624}, {"text": "I had an anxious walk home from the station that evening; I went round by the longer way, trembling the whole time lest I should meet any of the Currie household, to which I felt myself entirely unequal just then. I could not rest until I knew whether my fraud had succeeded, or if the poodle to which I had entrusted my fate had basely betrayed me; but my suspense was happily ended as soon as I entered my mother's room. 'You can't think how delighted those poor Curries were to see Bingo again,'she said at once; 'and they said such charming things about you, Algy -- Lilian, particularly -- quite affected she seemed, poor child! And they wanted you to go round and dine there and be thanked to-night, but at last I persuaded them to come to us instead. And the", "start_byte": 38662, "end_byte": 39427, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1184.3199462890625, "end_time": 1234.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1185.3149462890624, "cut_end_time": 1233.9100087890624}, {"text": "I drew a deep breath of relief. I had played a desperate game -- but I had won! I could have wished, to be sure, that my mother had not thought of bringing in Travers on that of all evenings -- but I hoped that I could defy him after this.", "start_byte": 39574, "end_byte": 39813, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1244.719970703125, "end_time": 1260.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1245.2849707031248, "cut_end_time": 1259.280033203125}, {"text": "The Colonel and his people were the first to arrive; he and his wife being so effusively grateful that they made me very uncomfortable indeed; Lilian met me with downcast eyes, and the faintest possible blush, but she said nothing just then. Five minutes afterwards, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly,", "start_byte": 39815, "end_byte": 40259, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1260.199951171875, "end_time": 1289.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1261.0149511718748, "cut_end_time": 1288.9000761718748}, {"text": " And I replied that, upon the whole, I could.", "start_byte": 40352, "end_byte": 40397, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1297.0400390625, "end_time": 1300.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1297.4050390625, "cut_end_time": 1299.9101015625}, {"text": "We were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.", "start_byte": 40399, "end_byte": 41508, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1300.56005859375, "end_time": 1379.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1301.26505859375, "cut_end_time": 1378.7501210937498}, {"text": " said the Colonel.", "start_byte": 41550, "end_byte": 41568, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1381.8399658203125, "end_time": 1382.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1382.0249658203124, "cut_end_time": 1382.6200908203125}, {"text": "I saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.", "start_byte": 41852, "end_byte": 42104, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1401.9200439453125, "end_time": 1418.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1402.4750439453123, "cut_end_time": 1417.4500439453125}, {"text": " I heard Mrs. Currie telling my mother,", "start_byte": 42124, "end_byte": 42163, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1419.6800537109375, "end_time": 1421.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1419.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1421.7000537109375}, {"text": " said Lilian;", "start_byte": 42731, "end_byte": 42744, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1457.9599609375, "end_time": 1458.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1457.9349609375, "cut_end_time": 1458.7600859375}, {"text": " said the Colonel, cheerily;", "start_byte": 42823, "end_byte": 42851, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1464.280029296875, "end_time": 1465.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1464.475029296875, "cut_end_time": 1465.600091796875}, {"text": " said my poor innocent mother.", "start_byte": 42935, "end_byte": 42965, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1471.6800537109375, "end_time": 1473.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 1471.6950537109374, "cut_end_time": 1473.1600537109375}, {"text": " worse than ever.'", "start_byte": 43042, "end_byte": 43060, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1477.43994140625, "end_time": 1479.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1477.41494140625, "cut_end_time": 1478.43000390625}, {"text": "I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time.", "start_byte": 43062, "end_byte": 43140, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1479.199951171875, "end_time": 1485.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1479.664951171875, "cut_end_time": 1485.050013671875}, {"text": " he said, in that carrying", "start_byte": 43162, "end_byte": 43188, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1487.0400390625, "end_time": 1488.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1487.0150390625, "cut_end_time": 1488.8200390625}, {"text": " voice of his;", "start_byte": 43199, "end_byte": 43213, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1489.47998046875, "end_time": 1490.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1489.46498046875, "cut_end_time": 1490.24004296875}, {"text": " I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.", "start_byte": 43277, "end_byte": 43362, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1495.3199462890625, "end_time": 1502.0, "cut_start_time": 1495.7349462890625, "cut_end_time": 1501.0500087890623}, {"text": " said my mother.", "start_byte": 43417, "end_byte": 43433, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1505.760009765625, "end_time": 1506.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1505.7750097656249, "cut_end_time": 1506.570009765625}, {"text": " said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences,", "start_byte": 43644, "end_byte": 43714, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1520.6800537109375, "end_time": 1524.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1520.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1524.0101162109374}, {"text": " I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers,", "start_byte": 43945, "end_byte": 43999, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1539.280029296875, "end_time": 1542.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1539.255029296875, "cut_end_time": 1542.080029296875}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_10_anstey_64kb.json b/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_10_anstey_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4b2a17889672137e27c98ee3d1da2c439961388b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5957/4992/blackpoodle_10_anstey_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "5957/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "4992/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/blackpoodle_10_anstey_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "4992", "quotations": [{"text": "'I do wish I was back in Regent Street again,", "start_byte": 151055, "end_byte": 151100, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 120.87999725341797, "end_time": 124.4800033569336, "cut_start_time": 121.39499725341797, "cut_end_time": 124.53012225341796, "narrative_prediction": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Are you very dull here then?", "start_byte": 152588, "end_byte": 152617, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 231.0, "end_time": 233.60000610351562, "cut_start_time": 231.575, "cut_end_time": 233.44006249999998, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "nervously": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Dull! You were never in Regent Street, or you wouldn't ask such a question.'", "start_byte": 152918, "end_byte": 152995, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 256.5199890136719, "end_time": 262.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 256.5149890136719, "cut_end_time": 261.3401140136719, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I came from the Lowther Arcade,", "start_byte": 152997, "end_byte": 153029, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 262.760009765625, "end_time": 265.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 263.34500976562504, "cut_end_time": 265.47000976562504, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, really?", "start_byte": 153041, "end_byte": 153053, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 266.3999938964844, "end_time": 267.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 266.8049938964844, "cut_end_time": 267.8100563964844, "narrative_prediction": {"drawled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'then, of course, this would be quite a pleasant change for you.'", "start_byte": 153074, "end_byte": 153139, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 268.9599914550781, "end_time": 273.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 268.95499145507813, "cut_end_time": 272.64005395507814, "narrative_prediction": {"drawled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I don't know,", "start_byte": 153141, "end_byte": 153155, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 273.1199951171875, "end_time": 274.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 273.7949951171875, "cut_end_time": 274.54012011718754, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I liked the Arcade. It was so lively; a little noisy perhaps -- too much top spinning, and pop-gunning, and mouth-organ playing all round one -- but very cheerful. Yes, I liked the Arcade.'", "start_byte": 153166, "end_byte": 153356, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 274.9599914550781, "end_time": 290.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 274.93499145507815, "cut_end_time": 289.02005395507814, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Very mixed the society there, isn't it?", "start_byte": 153358, "end_byte": 153398, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 290.239990234375, "end_time": 293.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 290.414990234375, "cut_end_time": 293.010052734375, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'aren't you expected to know penny things?'", "start_byte": 153411, "end_byte": 153454, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 293.6000061035156, "end_time": 296.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 293.65500610351563, "cut_end_time": 296.02006860351565, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well, there were a good many penny things there,", "start_byte": 153456, "end_byte": 153505, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 296.8800048828125, "end_time": 299.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 297.3050048828125, "cut_end_time": 299.78000488281253, "narrative_prediction": {"owned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and very amusing they were. There was a wooden bird there that used to duck his head and wag his tail when they swung a weight underneath -- he would have made you laugh so!'", "start_byte": 153517, "end_byte": 153692, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 300.760009765625, "end_time": 311.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 301.245009765625, "cut_end_time": 311.11007226562504, "narrative_prediction": {"owned": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I hope,", "start_byte": 153694, "end_byte": 153702, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 311.8800048828125, "end_time": 313.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 312.51500488281255, "cut_end_time": 313.4400673828125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I should never so far forget myself as to laugh under any circumstances -- and certainly not at a penny thing!'", "start_byte": 153731, "end_byte": 153843, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 315.44000244140625, "end_time": 325.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 315.55500244140626, "cut_end_time": 323.23000244140627, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "freezingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'I wonder how much he cost?", "start_byte": 153845, "end_byte": 153872, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 325.3999938964844, "end_time": 328.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 326.5649938964844, "cut_end_time": 328.5400563964844, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'not very much, I can see from his manner. But perhaps I can get him to tell me. Do you remember,", "start_byte": 153887, "end_byte": 153984, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 329.2799987792969, "end_time": 336.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 329.3149987792969, "cut_end_time": 336.5401237792969, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "aloud": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Do you mean my price?", "start_byte": 154114, "end_byte": 154136, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 346.32000732421875, "end_time": 348.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 346.9150073242188, "cut_end_time": 348.12000732421876, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'oh, elevenpence three farthings -- it was on the ticket.'", "start_byte": 154147, "end_byte": 154205, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 348.55999755859375, "end_time": 352.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 348.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 351.8101225585938, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'What a vulgar creature!", "start_byte": 154207, "end_byte": 154231, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 352.8800048828125, "end_time": 354.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 353.2950048828125, "cut_end_time": 354.9400048828125, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I shall really have to drop him.'", "start_byte": 154252, "end_byte": 154286, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 356.0799865722656, "end_time": 359.4800109863281, "cut_start_time": 356.34498657226567, "cut_end_time": 358.31011157226567, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Dear me,", "start_byte": 154288, "end_byte": 154297, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 359.4800109863281, "end_time": 361.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 360.4150109863281, "cut_end_time": 361.22001098632813, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I don't think so,", "start_byte": 154471, "end_byte": 154489, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 372.2799987792969, "end_time": 374.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 373.1849987792969, "cut_end_time": 374.1800612792969, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'that's the fair selling price.'", "start_byte": 154500, "end_byte": 154532, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 374.6000061035156, "end_time": 377.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 374.7250061035156, "cut_end_time": 376.42006860351563, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well, that's very curious,", "start_byte": 154534, "end_byte": 154561, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 377.8800048828125, "end_time": 379.9200134277344, "cut_start_time": 378.4350048828125, "cut_end_time": 379.98006738281254, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'because the young man at Regent Street (a most charming person, by the way) positively wouldn't part with me under thirty-five shillings, and he said so many delightful things about me that I feel quite sorry for him sometimes, when I think how he must be missing me. But then, very likely he's saying the same thing about some other doll now!'", "start_byte": 154573, "end_byte": 154918, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 380.44000244140625, "end_time": 403.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 380.50500244140625, "cut_end_time": 402.56006494140627, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I suppose he is,", "start_byte": 154920, "end_byte": 154937, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 403.44000244140625, "end_time": 405.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 404.2250024414063, "cut_end_time": 405.4600024414063, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'it's his business, you know.'", "start_byte": 155007, "end_byte": 155037, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 409.5199890136719, "end_time": 411.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 409.77498901367187, "cut_end_time": 411.2300515136719, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I don't see how you can possibly tell,", "start_byte": 155039, "end_byte": 155078, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 411.9599914550781, "end_time": 415.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 412.98499145507816, "cut_end_time": 415.42011645507813, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'the Lowther Arcade is not Regent Street.'", "start_byte": 155140, "end_byte": 155182, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 419.2799987792969, "end_time": 423.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 419.4749987792969, "cut_end_time": 422.4800612792969, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'And were you very happy at Regent Street?", "start_byte": 155225, "end_byte": 155267, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 426.7200012207031, "end_time": 429.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 427.05500122070316, "cut_end_time": 429.34000122070313, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Happy?", "start_byte": 155280, "end_byte": 155287, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 430.3599853515625, "end_time": 431.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 430.55498535156255, "cut_end_time": 431.20004785156254, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I don't think you'll find it so very bad here, when you get a little more used to it,", "start_byte": 155719, "end_byte": 155805, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 461.55999755859375, "end_time": 466.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 462.66499755859377, "cut_end_time": 466.9100600585938, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Pray don't use that very unpleasant word,", "start_byte": 155839, "end_byte": 155881, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 469.32000732421875, "end_time": 472.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 469.80500732421876, "cut_end_time": 472.7300698242188, "narrative_prediction": {"interrupted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Did you never hear of \"dolls", "start_byte": 155908, "end_byte": 155937, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 474.1199951171875, "end_time": 475.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 474.3449951171875, "cut_end_time": 475.98012011718754, "narrative_prediction": {"interrupted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well, our hostess, then -- Winifred, she's not unkind. She doesn't care much about me, and that cousin of hers, Master Archie, gives me a bad time of it when I come in his way, but really she's very polite and attentive to you.'", "start_byte": 155984, "end_byte": 156213, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 480.79998779296875, "end_time": 497.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 481.21498779296877, "cut_end_time": 496.01011279296876, "narrative_prediction": {"sneered": {"id": "2", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Polite and attentive!", "start_byte": 156215, "end_byte": 156237, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 497.6400146484375, "end_time": 499.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 497.97501464843754, "cut_end_time": 499.4600771484375, "narrative_prediction": {"sneered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I don't call it an attention to be treated like a baby by a little chit of a girl who can't dress herself properly yet -- no style, no elegance, and actually a pinafore in the mornings!'", "start_byte": 156341, "end_byte": 156528, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 505.8800048828125, "end_time": 518.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 506.53500488281253, "cut_end_time": 517.3200673828126, "narrative_prediction": {"sneered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Then the society here,", "start_byte": 156985, "end_byte": 157008, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 549.0800170898438, "end_time": 551.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 549.4450170898438, "cut_end_time": 551.2200170898437, "narrative_prediction": {"went": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'it's really something too dreadful for words. Why, those people in the poky little house over there, with only four rooms and a front door they can't open, have never had the decency to call upon me. Not that I should take any notice, of course, if they did, but it just shows what they are. And the other day I actually overheard one frightful creature in a print dress, with nothing on her head but a great tin-tack, ask another horror \"which she liked best -- make-believe tea or orange-juice!\"'", "start_byte": 157136, "end_byte": 157635, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 558.2000122070312, "end_time": 591.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 558.6050122070312, "cut_end_time": 590.3800122070313, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Well, I prefer make-believe tea myself,", "start_byte": 157637, "end_byte": 157677, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 591.5999755859375, "end_time": 594.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 592.0549755859375, "cut_end_time": 594.2600380859375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'because, you see, I can't get the orange-juice down, and so it's rather bad for the dress and complexion.'", "start_byte": 157696, "end_byte": 157803, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 595.0399780273438, "end_time": 601.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 595.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 601.3001030273438, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Possibly,", "start_byte": 157805, "end_byte": 157815, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 601.8800048828125, "end_time": 603.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 602.3850048828125, "cut_end_time": 603.2200048828125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I'", "start_byte": 157838, "end_byte": 157841, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 604.5999755859375, "end_time": 604.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 604.5749755859375, "cut_end_time": 604.9401005859376, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'What is a romance?", "start_byte": 158142, "end_byte": 158161, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 626.6400146484375, "end_time": 627.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 626.6550146484375, "cut_end_time": 627.7000771484376, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I thought you wouldn't understand me,", "start_byte": 158174, "end_byte": 158212, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 628.9600219726562, "end_time": 631.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 629.4950219726562, "cut_end_time": 631.7000219726563, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'a romance is -- well, there's champagne in it, and cigarettes, to begin with.'", "start_byte": 158224, "end_byte": 158303, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 632.3599853515625, "end_time": 638.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 632.4949853515625, "cut_end_time": 637.6501103515625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'But what is champagne?", "start_byte": 158305, "end_byte": 158328, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 638.280029296875, "end_time": 640.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 638.925029296875, "cut_end_time": 640.260029296875, "narrative_prediction": {"interrupted": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Something you drink,", "start_byte": 158347, "end_byte": 158368, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 641.280029296875, "end_time": 642.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 641.545029296875, "cut_end_time": 642.610091796875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'what else could it be?'", "start_byte": 158380, "end_byte": 158404, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 642.9199829101562, "end_time": 644.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 642.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 644.0401079101563, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I see,", "start_byte": 158406, "end_byte": 158413, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 644.4400024414062, "end_time": 645.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 644.8450024414062, "cut_end_time": 645.4600024414062, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'a sort of orange-juice.'", "start_byte": 158424, "end_byte": 158449, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 645.9199829101562, "end_time": 648.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 645.8949829101563, "cut_end_time": 647.6900454101562, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Orange-juice!", "start_byte": 158451, "end_byte": 158465, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 648.5599975585938, "end_time": 649.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 648.7649975585938, "cut_end_time": 649.6100600585937, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I couldn't make you understand without too much trouble, you really are so very ignorant, but there's a good deal of it in romances. And dukes, and guardsmen, and being very beautiful and deliciously miserable, till just before the end -- that's a romance! My milliner used to have it read out to her while she was dressing me for that ball I told you about.'", "start_byte": 158640, "end_byte": 159000, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 661.0399780273438, "end_time": 684.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 661.4549780273438, "cut_end_time": 683.6700405273438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Do you mind telling me what a heroine is?", "start_byte": 159002, "end_byte": 159044, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 684.47998046875, "end_time": 687.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 685.04498046875, "cut_end_time": 687.37010546875, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I know I'", "start_byte": 159056, "end_byte": 159066, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 687.7999877929688, "end_time": 688.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 687.8749877929688, "cut_end_time": 688.5001127929688, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'A heroine? oh, any doll can be a heroine. I felt all the time the heroines were all just like me. They were either very good or very wicked, and I'", "start_byte": 159083, "end_byte": 159231, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 689.9199829101562, "end_time": 701.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 690.2249829101563, "cut_end_time": 701.7401079101563, "narrative_prediction": {"m": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'I should think it would be more uncomfortable,", "start_byte": 159402, "end_byte": 159449, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 712.3200073242188, "end_time": 715.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 713.0350073242188, "cut_end_time": 715.3600698242187, "narrative_prediction": {"suggested": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Ah, but then you see you haven't any sentiment about you,", "start_byte": 159466, "end_byte": 159524, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 716.6400146484375, "end_time": 720.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 717.1150146484375, "cut_end_time": 720.5800146484376, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "disparagingly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'No,", "start_byte": 159551, "end_byte": 159555, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 723.0800170898438, "end_time": 723.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 723.4450170898438, "cut_end_time": 723.7800170898438, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I'", "start_byte": 159570, "end_byte": 159573, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 724.5999755859375, "end_time": 724.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 724.5749755859375, "cut_end_time": 724.9801005859375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I should think not,", "start_byte": 159662, "end_byte": 159682, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 731.3599853515625, "end_time": 733.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 732.0149853515625, "cut_end_time": 733.6000478515625, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'it's very expensive.", "start_byte": 159704, "end_byte": 159725, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 735.0, "end_time": 737.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 735.135, "cut_end_time": 736.74, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'you were talking of Master Archie just now. I rather like that boy, do you know. I believe I could make something of him if he would only let me.'", "start_byte": 159790, "end_byte": 159937, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 741.7999877929688, "end_time": 752.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 742.1449877929688, "cut_end_time": 751.5401127929688, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "confidentially": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'He's a mischievous boy,", "start_byte": 159939, "end_byte": 159963, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 752.3200073242188, "end_time": 754.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 752.8150073242188, "cut_end_time": 754.3800698242188, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and ill-natured too.'", "start_byte": 159982, "end_byte": 160004, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 755.0800170898438, "end_time": 757.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 755.1250170898438, "cut_end_time": 756.5400795898438, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Yes, isn't he?", "start_byte": 160006, "end_byte": 160021, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 757.280029296875, "end_time": 759.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 757.6950292968751, "cut_end_time": 758.9600292968751, "narrative_prediction": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "admiringly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I like him for that. I fancy a duke or a guardsman must be something like him; they all had just his wicked black eyes and long restless fingers. It wouldn't be quite so dull if he would notice me a little; but he never will!'", "start_byte": 160046, "end_byte": 160273, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 761.0399780273438, "end_time": 776.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 761.3049780273437, "cut_end_time": 776.0700405273437, "narrative_prediction": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "admiringly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'He's going back to school next week,", "start_byte": 160275, "end_byte": 160312, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 776.719970703125, "end_time": 779.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 777.324970703125, "cut_end_time": 779.110095703125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "cheerfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'So soon!", "start_byte": 160350, "end_byte": 160359, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 781.5999755859375, "end_time": 782.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 781.8849755859375, "cut_end_time": 782.9801005859375, "narrative_prediction": {"sighed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'There's hardly time for him to make a real heroine of me before that. How I wish he would! I shouldn't care how he did it, or what came of it. I'", "start_byte": 160379, "end_byte": 160525, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 784.3200073242188, "end_time": 794.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 784.6650073242188, "cut_end_time": 793.2400073242188, "narrative_prediction": {"m": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 7}}}, {"text": "'Say that again, my dainty little lady; say it again!", "start_byte": 160612, "end_byte": 160665, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 800.7999877929688, "end_time": 804.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 801.2849877929688, "cut_end_time": 804.2200502929687, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harsh": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "jeering": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'and, if you really mean it, perhaps the old Sausage-Glutton can manage it for you. He's done more wonderful things than that in his time, I can tell you.'", "start_byte": 160714, "end_byte": 160869, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 807.2000122070312, "end_time": 817.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 807.5150122070313, "cut_end_time": 816.7500747070312, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harsh": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}, "jeering": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Sausage-Glutton,", "start_byte": 161363, "end_byte": 161380, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 851.2000122070312, "end_time": 852.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 851.2550122070313, "cut_end_time": 852.4100122070313, "narrative_prediction": {"given": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Good gracious!", "start_byte": 161629, "end_byte": 161644, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 870.7999877929688, "end_time": 872.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 871.4349877929687, "cut_end_time": 872.3000502929688, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'who is that person?'", "start_byte": 161677, "end_byte": 161698, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 873.8400268554688, "end_time": 875.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 873.8150268554688, "cut_end_time": 875.0900893554688, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Somebody who can be a good kind friend to you, pretty lady, if you only give him leave. So you want some excitement here, do you? You want to be wicked, and interesting, and unfortunate, and all the rest of it, eh? And you'd like young Archibald (a nice boy that, by the way), you'd like him to give you a little romance? Well, then, he shall, and to-morrow too, hot and strong, if you like to say the word.'", "start_byte": 161700, "end_byte": 162109, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 875.8800048828125, "end_time": 904.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 876.4950048828125, "cut_end_time": 902.7200673828125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Don't -- oh, please don't!", "start_byte": 162286, "end_byte": 162313, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 917.760009765625, "end_time": 920.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 918.965009765625, "cut_end_time": 920.8200097656251, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'You won't like it -- you won't, really!'", "start_byte": 162542, "end_byte": 162583, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 935.3200073242188, "end_time": 939.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 935.5450073242188, "cut_end_time": 938.1200073242188, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Don't trust him,", "start_byte": 162585, "end_byte": 162602, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 939.0399780273438, "end_time": 941.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 939.8649780273438, "cut_end_time": 941.1300405273438, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'he's a bad old man; he ruined a very promising young dancing nigger only the other day, unhinged him so that he will never hook on any more.'", "start_byte": 162626, "end_byte": 162768, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 942.52001953125, "end_time": 954.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 942.75501953125, "cut_end_time": 953.51008203125, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Ha, ha!", "start_byte": 162770, "end_byte": 162778, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 954.9600219726562, "end_time": 955.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 955.1550219726563, "cut_end_time": 955.8600844726562, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'that old fellow in the peculiar coat is jealous, you know; he can't make a heroine of you, and so he doesn't want anyone else to. Who cares what he says? And as for our little wooden friend up above, well, I should hope a dainty duchess like you is not going to let herself be dictated to by a low jointed creature, who sets up for a fairy when she knows her sisters dance round white hats every Derby Day.'", "start_byte": 162844, "end_byte": 163252, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 959.280029296875, "end_time": 986.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 959.4650292968751, "cut_end_time": 985.4600292968751, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'They'r", "start_byte": 163254, "end_byte": 163261, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 986.6799926757812, "end_time": 987.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 986.9549926757812, "cut_end_time": 987.1400551757813, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'re second cousins,", "start_byte": 163280, "end_byte": 163299, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 988.239990234375, "end_time": 989.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 988.2849902343751, "cut_end_time": 989.500052734375, "narrative_prediction": {"squeaked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and they don't mean any harm by it; it's only their high spirits. And whatever you say, I'", "start_byte": 163347, "end_byte": 163438, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 992.3200073242188, "end_time": 999.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 992.6250073242188, "cut_end_time": 999.3800698242188, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'My good creatures,", "start_byte": 163907, "end_byte": 163926, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1031.47998046875, "end_time": 1033.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1031.96498046875, "cut_end_time": 1033.22004296875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'you mean well, no doubt, but pray leave this gentleman and me to settle our own affairs. Can you really get Master Archie to take some notice of me, sir?", "start_byte": 163946, "end_byte": 164100, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1034.0, "end_time": 1044.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1034.0649999999998, "cut_end_time": 1044.3600625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I can, my loveliest,", "start_byte": 164140, "end_byte": 164161, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1047.280029296875, "end_time": 1049.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1047.445029296875, "cut_end_time": 1049.040091796875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'And will it be exciting,", "start_byte": 164173, "end_byte": 164198, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1050.199951171875, "end_time": 1052.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1050.644951171875, "cut_end_time": 1052.230013671875, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and romantic, and -- and just the least bit wicked, too?'", "start_byte": 164211, "end_byte": 164269, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1052.8800048828125, "end_time": 1058.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1053.0150048828125, "cut_end_time": 1056.8600048828125, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'You shall be the very wickedest heroine in any nursery in the world,", "start_byte": 164271, "end_byte": 164340, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1058.3199462890625, "end_time": 1063.0, "cut_start_time": 1058.7949462890624, "cut_end_time": 1063.1000087890625, "narrative_prediction": {"replied": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Oh, dear me, how you will enjoy yourself!'", "start_byte": 164354, "end_byte": 164397, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1063.8399658203125, "end_time": 1067.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 1064.2349658203125, "cut_end_time": 1067.0100908203124, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Then I accept,", "start_byte": 164399, "end_byte": 164414, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1067.760009765625, "end_time": 1069.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1067.985009765625, "cut_end_time": 1069.2400722656248, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I put myself quite in your hands -- I leave everything to you.'", "start_byte": 164432, "end_byte": 164496, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1070.280029296875, "end_time": 1075.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1070.395029296875, "cut_end_time": 1074.400091796875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'That's right!", "start_byte": 164498, "end_byte": 164512, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1075.56005859375, "end_time": 1076.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 1075.8650585937498, "cut_end_time": 1076.86012109375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'that's a brave little beauty. It's a bargain, then? To-morrow afternoon the fun will begin, and then -- my springs and wheels -- what a time you will have of it! He, he! You look out for Archibald!'", "start_byte": 164541, "end_byte": 164740, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1078.4000244140625, "end_time": 1091.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1078.6250244140624, "cut_end_time": 1091.3800869140623, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'You are a fairy, aren't you?", "start_byte": 165132, "end_byte": 165161, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1117.8800048828125, "end_time": 1120.0, "cut_start_time": 1118.3450048828124, "cut_end_time": 1120.1000048828123, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "whisper": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}}, {"text": "'can't you do anything to help her?'", "start_byte": 165203, "end_byte": 165239, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1122.1600341796875, "end_time": 1125.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1122.3250341796875, "cut_end_time": 1124.4000341796875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "whisper": {"id": "1", "type": "noun", "confidence": 8}}}, {"text": "'No,", "start_byte": 165241, "end_byte": 165245, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1125.199951171875, "end_time": 1125.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1125.4649511718749, "cut_end_time": 1126.060013671875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'and if I could, I wouldn't. She has chosen to put herself in his power, and whatever comes of it will serve her right. I don't know what he means to do, and I can't stop him. Still, if I can't help her, I can help you; and you may want it, because he is sure to be angry with you for trying to warn her.'", "start_byte": 165265, "end_byte": 165570, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1127.199951171875, "end_time": 1149.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1127.174951171875, "cut_end_time": 1149.1100136718749, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'But I never gave him leave to meddle with me,", "start_byte": 165572, "end_byte": 165618, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1149.8399658203125, "end_time": 1153.0799560546875, "cut_start_time": 1150.4749658203125, "cut_end_time": 1153.1800283203124, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Have you got sawdust or bran inside you, or what?", "start_byte": 165638, "end_byte": 165688, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1154.47998046875, "end_time": 1158.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1154.83498046875, "cut_end_time": 1158.33010546875, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Neither,", "start_byte": 165708, "end_byte": 165717, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1159.8399658203125, "end_time": 1160.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1160.1449658203123, "cut_end_time": 1160.5000908203124, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'only the bellows I squeak with, and wire. But why?'", "start_byte": 165728, "end_byte": 165780, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1160.9599609375, "end_time": 1165.0, "cut_start_time": 1160.9349609375, "cut_end_time": 1164.3800234374999, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I was afraid so. It's only the dolls with sawdust or bran inside them that he can't do whatever he likes with without their consent. He can do anything he chooses with you; but he shan't hurt you this time, if you only take care -- for I'll grant you the very next thing you wish. Only do be careful now about wishing; don't be in a hurry and waste the wish. Wait till things are at their very worst.'", "start_byte": 165782, "end_byte": 166184, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1165.0, "end_time": 1195.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1165.475, "cut_end_time": 1194.77, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Thank you very much,", "start_byte": 166186, "end_byte": 166207, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1195.5999755859375, "end_time": 1196.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1196.0149755859375, "cut_end_time": 1196.9801005859374, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I don't mind for myself so much, but I should like to prevent any harm from coming to her. I'll remember.'", "start_byte": 166218, "end_byte": 166325, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1197.760009765625, "end_time": 1205.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1197.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 1204.880072265625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'You didn't believe what the old man on the clock told you about me, did you? I'", "start_byte": 166373, "end_byte": 166453, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1209.239990234375, "end_time": 1214.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1209.644990234375, "cut_end_time": 1213.610052734375, "narrative_prediction": {"whispered": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'m only a poor jester, and you'r", "start_byte": 166471, "end_byte": 166503, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1215.56005859375, "end_time": 1217.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1215.5950585937499, "cut_end_time": 1217.5001210937498, "narrative_prediction": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'queer", "start_byte": 167243, "end_byte": 167249, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1265.1600341796875, "end_time": 1265.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1265.2150341796873, "cut_end_time": 1265.6600966796875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'for the sake of the giver,", "start_byte": 167354, "end_byte": 167381, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1272.9599609375, "end_time": 1274.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1272.9349609375, "cut_end_time": 1274.4000859374999, "narrative_prediction": {"liked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'Hullo, Winnie,", "start_byte": 168963, "end_byte": 168978, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1381.199951171875, "end_time": 1382.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1381.374951171875, "cut_end_time": 1382.210013671875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'are you all alone?'", "start_byte": 168989, "end_byte": 169009, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1382.719970703125, "end_time": 1384.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1382.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 1383.9200957031248, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Nurse has gone downstairs,", "start_byte": 169011, "end_byte": 169038, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1384.6800537109375, "end_time": 1386.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1385.1550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1386.9400537109375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "plaintively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I've got the dolls, but it's dull here somehow. Can't you come and help me to play, Archie?'", "start_byte": 169066, "end_byte": 169159, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1388.239990234375, "end_time": 1395.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1388.3049902343748, "cut_end_time": 1394.140115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "plaintively": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I've got other things to do,", "start_byte": 169658, "end_byte": 169687, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1425.6800537109375, "end_time": 1428.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 1426.6350537109374, "cut_end_time": 1428.4600537109375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and you know you always make a fuss when I do play with you. Look at last time!'", "start_byte": 169698, "end_byte": 169779, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1428.800048828125, "end_time": 1434.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1428.775048828125, "cut_end_time": 1433.370111328125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Ah, but then you played at being a slave-driver, Archie, and you made me sell you my old black Dinah for a slave, and then you tied her up and whipped her. I didn't like that game! But if you'll stay this time, I won't mind what else you do!'", "start_byte": 169781, "end_byte": 170024, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1434.280029296875, "end_time": 1449.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1434.8050292968749, "cut_end_time": 1448.9700292968748, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Girls don't know how to play with dolls, and that's a fact,", "start_byte": 170182, "end_byte": 170242, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1459.0, "end_time": 1462.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1459.3349999999998, "cut_end_time": 1462.09, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I could get more fun out of that dolls", "start_byte": 170257, "end_byte": 170296, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1463.199951171875, "end_time": 1465.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1463.554951171875, "cut_end_time": 1465.580076171875, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I promise,", "start_byte": 170538, "end_byte": 170549, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1480.6800537109375, "end_time": 1481.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1481.1350537109374, "cut_end_time": 1481.9701162109375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'if you won't break anything. I'll do just what you tell me.'", "start_byte": 170566, "end_byte": 170627, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1482.9599609375, "end_time": 1487.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1483.2049609375, "cut_end_time": 1486.2200859375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Very well then, here goes; let's see who you've got. I say, who's this in the swell dress?'", "start_byte": 170629, "end_byte": 170721, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1487.280029296875, "end_time": 1493.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1487.735029296875, "cut_end_time": 1493.310029296875, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'He has noticed me at last,", "start_byte": 170818, "end_byte": 170845, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1499.9200439453125, "end_time": 1502.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1500.2550439453123, "cut_end_time": 1502.1401064453123, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I wonder if I could make him fall desperately in love with me!", "start_byte": 170860, "end_byte": 170923, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1502.800048828125, "end_time": 1506.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1503.0750488281249, "cut_end_time": 1506.300111328125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Ah, if I could only speak -- but perhaps I shall presently. I'", "start_byte": 170973, "end_byte": 171036, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1510.4000244140625, "end_time": 1515.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1510.7950244140625, "cut_end_time": 1515.3400244140623, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'That's Ethelinda, Archie -- isn't she pretty?'", "start_byte": 171082, "end_byte": 171129, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1518.3199462890625, "end_time": 1521.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1518.6449462890623, "cut_end_time": 1521.0200712890623, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I've seen them uglier,", "start_byte": 171131, "end_byte": 171154, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1521.52001953125, "end_time": 1523.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1522.0950195312498, "cut_end_time": 1523.30001953125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'she's like that Eve de Something we saw at Drury Lane -- we'll have her, and there's that chap in the fool's dress, we may want him. Now we'r", "start_byte": 171165, "end_byte": 171307, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1523.5999755859375, "end_time": 1532.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1523.5749755859374, "cut_end_time": 1532.9400380859374, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'What are you going to do with them, Archie?'", "start_byte": 171318, "end_byte": 171363, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1533.9599609375, "end_time": 1536.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1534.4649609374999, "cut_end_time": 1536.2400234375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'You leave that to me. I've an idea, something much better than your silly tea-parties.'", "start_byte": 171365, "end_byte": 171453, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1536.8399658203125, "end_time": 1542.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1537.3049658203124, "cut_end_time": 1542.1300908203125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Why doesn't he tell that child to go?", "start_byte": 171455, "end_byte": 171493, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1542.8800048828125, "end_time": 1545.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1543.3450048828124, "cut_end_time": 1545.6200673828125, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'we don't want her!'", "start_byte": 171514, "end_byte": 171534, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1546.47998046875, "end_time": 1548.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1546.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 1547.59010546875, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Now listen, Winifred,", "start_byte": 171536, "end_byte": 171558, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1548.4000244140625, "end_time": 1550.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1549.2550244140625, "cut_end_time": 1550.6800244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'this is the game. You'r", "start_byte": 171573, "end_byte": 171597, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1551.3599853515625, "end_time": 1553.0400390625, "cut_start_time": 1551.3349853515624, "cut_end_time": 1552.4701103515624, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'m the king, and this is your maid of honour, the beautiful Lady Ethelinda, see?'", "start_byte": 171709, "end_byte": 171790, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1559.6800537109375, "end_time": 1564.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1559.6550537109374, "cut_end_time": 1564.4100537109375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Go on, Archie; I see,", "start_byte": 171792, "end_byte": 171814, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1564.9599609375, "end_time": 1566.56005859375, "cut_start_time": 1565.3949609375, "cut_end_time": 1566.6600859374998, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'and I like it so far.'", "start_byte": 171832, "end_byte": 171855, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1567.52001953125, "end_time": 1569.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1567.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 1568.90008203125, "narrative_prediction": {"cried": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'I think I ought to have been the queen!", "start_byte": 171857, "end_byte": 171897, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1569.4000244140625, "end_time": 1572.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1570.1150244140624, "cut_end_time": 1572.2200869140624, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'Well, now,", "start_byte": 171927, "end_byte": 171938, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1574.719970703125, "end_time": 1575.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1575.154970703125, "cut_end_time": 1575.620095703125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I'll tell you something. This maid of honour of yours doesn't like you (don't say she does, now; I'", "start_byte": 171954, "end_byte": 172054, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1576.199951171875, "end_time": 1582.0799560546875, "cut_start_time": 1576.174951171875, "cut_end_time": 1582.1800136718748, "narrative_prediction": {"m": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 7}}}, {"text": "'How clever he is,", "start_byte": 172187, "end_byte": 172205, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1591.3199462890625, "end_time": 1593.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1591.7649462890624, "cut_end_time": 1593.0300087890623, "narrative_prediction": {"thought": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'he knows exactly how I feel!'", "start_byte": 172226, "end_byte": 172256, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1594.239990234375, "end_time": 1596.800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1594.2649902343749, "cut_end_time": 1596.290115234375, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Do you really think it's that, Archie?", "start_byte": 172258, "end_byte": 172297, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1596.800048828125, "end_time": 1599.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1597.3150488281249, "cut_end_time": 1599.350111328125, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'it's just what I was afraid of before you came in.'", "start_byte": 172314, "end_byte": 172366, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1600.43994140625, "end_time": 1604.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 1600.68494140625, "cut_end_time": 1603.71000390625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "'That's it. Look out for a kind of glare in her eye when I pay you any attention. (How does Your Majesty do? Well, I hope.) There, didn't you see it? Well, that's jealousy, that is. She hates you like anything!'", "start_byte": 172368, "end_byte": 172579, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1604.3599853515625, "end_time": 1619.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1604.7449853515625, "cut_end_time": 1619.1200478515625, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'I'", "start_byte": 172581, "end_byte": 172584, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1619.8399658203125, "end_time": 1620.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 1619.8149658203124, "cut_end_time": 1620.4600283203124, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "'Oh, well, if you know better than I do, you can finish it for yourself. I'", "start_byte": 172632, "end_byte": 172707, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1623.6800537109375, "end_time": 1627.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1624.3250537109375, "cut_end_time": 1628.0600537109374, "narrative_prediction": {"going": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "'No, no; do stay. I like it. I'll be good after this!'", "start_byte": 172718, "end_byte": 172772, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 1629.0, "end_time": 1633.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1629.385, "cut_end_time": 1633.1200625, "narrative_prediction": {}}], "narrations": [{"text": "She ought to have been happy with all these advantages, and yet she was plainly dissatisfied; she looked disgustedly at all around her, at the coloured pictures from the illustrated papers on the walls, the staring red dolls' house, the big Noah's ark on the shelf, and the dingy dappled rocking-horse in the corner -- she despised them all.", "start_byte": 150712, "end_byte": 151053, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 96.12000274658203, "end_time": 120.87999725341797, "cut_start_time": 96.84500274658203, "cut_end_time": 120.45000274658203}, {"text": " she sighed aloud.", "start_byte": 151101, "end_byte": 151119, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 124.4800033569336, "end_time": 126.27999877929688, "cut_start_time": 124.57500335693359, "cut_end_time": 125.72000335693359}, {"text": "There was another doll sitting quite close to her, but Ethelinda had not made the remark to him, as he did not seem at all the sort of person to be encouraged.", "start_byte": 151121, "end_byte": 151280, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 126.27999877929688, "end_time": 136.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 126.70499877929687, "cut_end_time": 135.82006127929688}, {"text": "He was certainly odd-looking: his head was a little too big for his body, and his body was very much too big for his legs; he had fuzzy white hair, and a face which was rather like Punch's only with all the fun taken out of it.", "start_byte": 151282, "end_byte": 151509, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 136.67999267578125, "end_time": 153.83999633789062, "cut_start_time": 137.26499267578126, "cut_end_time": 153.17005517578124}, {"text": "When anyone pinched him in the chest hard, he squeaked and shut his eyes, as if it hurt him -- and very likely it did. He wore a tawdry jester's dress of red and blue, and once he had even carried a cymbal in each hand and clapped them together every time they made him squeak; but he had always disliked being obliged to make so much noise, for he was of a quiet and retiring nature, and so he had got rid of his unmusical instruments as soon as he could.", "start_byte": 151511, "end_byte": 151967, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 153.83999633789062, "end_time": 186.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 154.33499633789063, "cut_end_time": 185.0300588378906}, {"text": "Still, even without the cymbals, his appearance was hardly respectable, and Ethelinda was a little annoyed to find him so near her, though he never guessed her feelings, which was fortunate for him, for he had fallen in love with her.", "start_byte": 151969, "end_byte": 152203, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 186.55999755859375, "end_time": 203.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 186.97499755859374, "cut_end_time": 201.99012255859375}, {"text": "Since he first entered the nursery he had had a good deal of knocking about, but his life there had begun to seem easier to put up with from the moment she formed part of it.", "start_byte": 152205, "end_byte": 152379, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 203.44000244140625, "end_time": 215.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 204.02500244140626, "cut_end_time": 214.49000244140623}, {"text": "He had never dared to speak to her before, she had never given him the chance; and besides, it was quite enough for him to look at her; but now he thought she meant to be friendly and begin a conversation.", "start_byte": 152381, "end_byte": 152586, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 215.63999938964844, "end_time": 231.0, "cut_start_time": 216.07499938964844, "cut_end_time": 229.82006188964843}, {"text": " he asked rather nervously.", "start_byte": 152618, "end_byte": 152645, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 233.60000610351562, "end_time": 236.8000030517578, "cut_start_time": 233.8950061035156, "cut_end_time": 235.68006860351562}, {"text": "Ethelinda stared at first; no one had introduced him, and she felt very much inclined to take no notice; however, she thought after her long silence that it might amuse her to talk to somebody, even if it was only a shabby common creature like this jester.", "start_byte": 152647, "end_byte": 152903, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 236.8000030517578, "end_time": 254.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 236.98500305175781, "cut_end_time": 254.4400655517578}, {"text": "So she said,", "start_byte": 152905, "end_byte": 152917, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 254.8800048828125, "end_time": 256.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 255.3550048828125, "cut_end_time": 256.29000488281247}, {"text": " he said.", "start_byte": 153030, "end_byte": 153039, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 265.5199890136719, "end_time": 266.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 265.4949890136719, "cut_end_time": 266.0500515136719}, {"text": " drawled Ethelinda;", "start_byte": 153054, "end_byte": 153073, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 267.8399963378906, "end_time": 268.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 268.01499633789064, "cut_end_time": 269.0500588378907}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 153156, "end_byte": 153165, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 274.44000244140625, "end_time": 274.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 274.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 275.06000244140625}, {"text": " she asked;", "start_byte": 153399, "end_byte": 153410, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 293.0799865722656, "end_time": 293.6000061035156, "cut_start_time": 293.16498657226566, "cut_end_time": 293.70011157226566}, {"text": " he owned,", "start_byte": 153506, "end_byte": 153516, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 299.67999267578125, "end_time": 300.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 299.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 300.2301176757813}, {"text": " said Ethelinda freezingly,", "start_byte": 153703, "end_byte": 153730, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 313.44000244140625, "end_time": 315.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 313.44500244140625, "cut_end_time": 315.19006494140626}, {"text": " she thought;", "start_byte": 153873, "end_byte": 153886, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 328.55999755859375, "end_time": 329.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 328.5349975585938, "cut_end_time": 329.3000600585938}, {"text": " she asked aloud, 'what was the -- ah -- the premium they asked for introducing you here -- did you happen to catch the amount?", "start_byte": 153985, "end_byte": 154112, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 336.44000244140625, "end_time": 346.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 336.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 345.25006494140627}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 154137, "end_byte": 154146, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 348.0799865722656, "end_time": 348.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 348.05498657226565, "cut_end_time": 348.6600490722656}, {"text": " thought Ethelinda;", "start_byte": 154232, "end_byte": 154251, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 354.9599914550781, "end_time": 356.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 355.0249914550781, "cut_end_time": 355.93005395507817}, {"text": " she said,'that sounds very reasonable, very moderate indeed; but perhaps you were \"reduced\"?' for she thought he would be more bearable if he had cost a little more once.", "start_byte": 154298, "end_byte": 154469, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 361.1199951171875, "end_time": 372.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 361.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 371.4900576171875}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 154490, "end_byte": 154499, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 374.0799865722656, "end_time": 374.6000061035156, "cut_start_time": 374.05498657226565, "cut_end_time": 374.6801115722657}, {"text": " said she,", "start_byte": 154562, "end_byte": 154572, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 379.9200134277344, "end_time": 380.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 379.8950134277344, "cut_end_time": 380.5400759277344}, {"text": " said the jester (he had seen something of toy-selling in his time);", "start_byte": 154938, "end_byte": 155006, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 405.3599853515625, "end_time": 409.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 405.3349853515625, "cut_end_time": 409.34004785156253}, {"text": " said Ethelinda, who had not expected him to agree with her;", "start_byte": 155079, "end_byte": 155139, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 415.32000732421875, "end_time": 419.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 415.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 418.87000732421876}, {"text": "The jester did not care to dispute this.", "start_byte": 155184, "end_byte": 155224, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 423.5199890136719, "end_time": 426.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 423.7249890136719, "cut_end_time": 426.2701140136719}, {"text": " he asked.", "start_byte": 155268, "end_byte": 155278, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 429.239990234375, "end_time": 430.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 429.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 429.84005273437504}, {"text": " she repeated. 'Well, I don't know; at least, one was not bored there. I was in the best set, you see, the two-guinea one, and they were always getting up something to amuse us in the window -- a review, or a sham fight, or a garden-party, or something. Last winter they gave us a fancy-dress ball -- I went as Mary Stuart, and was very much admired. But here -- -- ' and she finished the sentence with a disdainful little shrug.", "start_byte": 155288, "end_byte": 155717, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 431.1199951171875, "end_time": 461.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 431.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 460.83005761718755}, {"text": " he said; 'our mistress -- -- '", "start_byte": 155806, "end_byte": 155837, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 466.9599914550781, "end_time": 469.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 466.94499145507814, "cut_end_time": 468.45011645507816}, {"text": " she interrupted sharply.", "start_byte": 155882, "end_byte": 155907, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 472.6400146484375, "end_time": 474.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 472.6150146484375, "cut_end_time": 473.9500146484375}, {"text": " rights?\" We call these people \"hostesses.\"'", "start_byte": 155938, "end_byte": 155982, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 475.8800048828125, "end_time": 480.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 475.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 478.96000488281254}, {"text": " sneered Ethelinda (and if you have never seen a doll sneer, you can have no idea how alarming it is).", "start_byte": 156238, "end_byte": 156340, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 499.44000244140625, "end_time": 505.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 499.56500244140625, "cut_end_time": 505.4300649414063}, {"text": "This is the way some of these costly lady dolls talk about their benefactresses when the gas is out and they think no one overhears them. I don't know whether the plain old-fashioned ones, who are not so carefully treated, but often more tenderly loved, are as bad; but it is impossible to say -- dolls are exceedingly artful, and there are persons, quite clever in other things, who will tell you honestly that they do not understand them in the least.", "start_byte": 156530, "end_byte": 156983, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 518.52001953125, "end_time": 549.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 519.23501953125, "cut_end_time": 547.81008203125}, {"text": " Ethelinda went on, without much consideration for the other's feelings -- perhaps she thought he was too cheap to have any --", "start_byte": 157009, "end_byte": 157135, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 551.1199951171875, "end_time": 558.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 551.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 557.9301201171875}, {"text": " said the jester,", "start_byte": 157678, "end_byte": 157695, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 594.1599731445312, "end_time": 595.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 594.1349731445313, "cut_end_time": 595.1400356445313}, {"text": " she said scornfully.", "start_byte": 157816, "end_byte": 157837, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 603.1199951171875, "end_time": 604.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 603.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 604.4200576171875}, {"text": " thankful to say I've not been called upon to try it myself -- even Miss Winifred knows better than that. But, anyhow, it's horribly insipid here, and I suppose it will be like this always now. I did hope once that when I went out into the world I should be a heroine and have a romance of my own.'", "start_byte": 157842, "end_byte": 158140, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 605.0399780273438, "end_time": 626.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 605.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 625.2201030273437}, {"text": " he asked.", "start_byte": 158162, "end_byte": 158172, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 627.760009765625, "end_time": 628.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 627.765009765625, "cut_end_time": 628.350072265625}, {"text": " she said;", "start_byte": 158213, "end_byte": 158223, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 631.5999755859375, "end_time": 632.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 631.5749755859375, "cut_end_time": 632.1200380859375}, {"text": " he interrupted.", "start_byte": 158329, "end_byte": 158345, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 640.1599731445312, "end_time": 641.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 640.1349731445313, "cut_end_time": 640.8800981445313}, {"text": " she said;", "start_byte": 158369, "end_byte": 158379, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 642.52001953125, "end_time": 642.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 642.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 643.02001953125}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 158414, "end_byte": 158423, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 645.3599853515625, "end_time": 645.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 645.3349853515625, "cut_end_time": 646.0200478515625}, {"text": " Ethelinda cried contemptuously; 'it's not in the least like orange-juice; it's -- -- ' (she didn't know what it was made of herself, but there was no use in telling him so)", "start_byte": 158466, "end_byte": 158639, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 649.6799926757812, "end_time": 661.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 649.8249926757812, "cut_end_time": 660.5700551757812}, {"text": " he asked.", "start_byte": 159045, "end_byte": 159055, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 687.3200073242188, "end_time": 687.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 687.3050073242188, "cut_end_time": 687.8700073242188}, {"text": " very stupid.'", "start_byte": 159067, "end_byte": 159081, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 688.52001953125, "end_time": 689.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 688.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 689.28001953125}, {"text": " sure I could be the one or the other if I got the chance. I think it would be more amusing, perhaps, to be a little wicked, but then it's not quite so easy, you know.'", "start_byte": 159232, "end_byte": 159400, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 701.7999877929688, "end_time": 712.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 701.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 711.5501127929688}, {"text": " he suggested.", "start_byte": 159450, "end_byte": 159464, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 715.280029296875, "end_time": 716.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 715.255029296875, "cut_end_time": 716.270091796875}, {"text": " she said disparagingly.", "start_byte": 159525, "end_byte": 159549, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 720.5599975585938, "end_time": 723.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 720.6449975585938, "cut_end_time": 722.1801225585938}, {"text": " he admitted,", "start_byte": 159556, "end_byte": 159569, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 723.6799926757812, "end_time": 724.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 723.6549926757813, "cut_end_time": 724.5500551757813}, {"text": " afraid I haven't. I suppose they couldn't put it in for elevenpence three farthings.'", "start_byte": 159574, "end_byte": 159660, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 725.0399780273438, "end_time": 731.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 725.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 730.0300405273438}, {"text": " Ethelinda observed,", "start_byte": 159683, "end_byte": 159703, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 733.5599975585938, "end_time": 735.0, "cut_start_time": 733.7049975585937, "cut_end_time": 734.7800600585938}, {"text": " And then, after a short silence, she said more confidentially,", "start_byte": 159726, "end_byte": 159789, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 737.0399780273438, "end_time": 741.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 737.5049780273438, "cut_end_time": 741.2100405273437}, {"text": " said the jester,", "start_byte": 159964, "end_byte": 159981, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 754.280029296875, "end_time": 755.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 754.255029296875, "cut_end_time": 755.170091796875}, {"text": " she agreed admiringly;", "start_byte": 160022, "end_byte": 160045, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 759.0399780273438, "end_time": 761.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 759.2649780273438, "cut_end_time": 760.8800405273438}, {"text": " the jester said rather cheerfully.", "start_byte": 160313, "end_byte": 160348, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 779.0800170898438, "end_time": 781.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 779.0950170898437, "cut_end_time": 780.9400170898438}, {"text": " sighed Ethelinda.", "start_byte": 160360, "end_byte": 160378, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 782.8800048828125, "end_time": 784.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 782.8550048828125, "cut_end_time": 784.2900673828125}, {"text": " sure I should enjoy it, and it would give me something to think about all my life.'", "start_byte": 160526, "end_byte": 160610, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 794.47998046875, "end_time": 800.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 794.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 798.90004296875}, {"text": " cried a harsh, jeering voice from beside them,", "start_byte": 160666, "end_byte": 160713, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 804.1199951171875, "end_time": 807.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 804.0949951171875, "cut_end_time": 807.1301201171875}, {"text": "The voice came from an old German clock which stood on the mantelpiece, or rather, from a strange painted wooden figure which was part of it -- an ugly old man, who sat on the top with a plate of sausages on his knees, and a fork in one hand. Every minute he slowly forked up a sausage from the plate to his mouth, and swallowed it suddenly, while his lower jaw wagged, and his narrow eyes rolled as it went down in a truly horrible manner.", "start_byte": 160871, "end_byte": 161311, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 817.6400146484375, "end_time": 848.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 818.1350146484375, "cut_end_time": 847.8100146484376}, {"text": "The children had long since given him the name of", "start_byte": 161313, "end_byte": 161362, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 848.1599731445312, "end_time": 851.2000122070312, "cut_start_time": 848.5549731445312, "cut_end_time": 851.2000981445312}, {"text": " which he richly deserved. He was a sort of magician in his way, having so much clockwork in his inside, and he was spiteful and malicious, owing to the quantity of wooden sausages he bolted, which would have ruined anyone's digestion and temper.", "start_byte": 161381, "end_byte": 161627, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 852.5599975585938, "end_time": 870.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 852.7649975585938, "cut_end_time": 870.3000600585938}, {"text": " cried Ethelinda, with a start,", "start_byte": 161645, "end_byte": 161676, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 872.239990234375, "end_time": 873.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 872.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 873.9401152343751}, {"text": "Ethelinda was too much fluttered to speak at first, and she was a little afraid of the old man, too, for he leered all round in such an odd way, and ate so fast and jerkily.", "start_byte": 162111, "end_byte": 162284, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 904.0800170898438, "end_time": 917.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 904.2750170898438, "cut_end_time": 916.2600795898438}, {"text": " cried a little squeaky voice above him. It came from a queer little angular doll, with gold-paper wings, a spangled muslin dress, and a wand with a tinsel star at the end of it, who was fastened up on the wall above a picture.", "start_byte": 162314, "end_byte": 162541, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 920.719970703125, "end_time": 935.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 920.694970703125, "cut_end_time": 935.0400957031251}, {"text": " whispered the jester;", "start_byte": 162603, "end_byte": 162625, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 941.0399780273438, "end_time": 942.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 941.0149780273438, "cut_end_time": 942.3601030273438}, {"text": " laughed the Sausage-Glutton, as he disposed of another sausage,", "start_byte": 162779, "end_byte": 162843, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 955.760009765625, "end_time": 959.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 955.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 959.090072265625}, {"text": " not sisters; the", "start_byte": 163262, "end_byte": 163279, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 987.239990234375, "end_time": 988.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 987.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 988.320052734375}, {"text": " squeaked the poor Dutch doll, very much hurt,", "start_byte": 163300, "end_byte": 163346, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 989.47998046875, "end_time": 992.3200073242188, "cut_start_time": 989.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 992.10010546875}, {"text": " a fairy. I had a Christmas-tree of my own once; but I had to leave it, it was so expensive to keep up. Now, you take my advice, my dear, do,' she added to Ethelinda, 'don't you listen to him. He'd give all his sausages to see you in trouble, he would; but he can't do anything unless you give him leave.'", "start_byte": 163439, "end_byte": 163744, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 999.4000244140625, "end_time": 1020.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 999.3750244140625, "cut_end_time": 1019.5700244140626}, {"text": "But of course it would have been a little too absurd if Ethelinda had taken advice from a flat-headed twopenny doll and a flabby jester from the Lowther Arcade.", "start_byte": 163746, "end_byte": 163906, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1020.239990234375, "end_time": 1031.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1021.004990234375, "cut_end_time": 1030.520052734375}, {"text": " she said to them,", "start_byte": 163927, "end_byte": 163945, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1033.1199951171875, "end_time": 1034.0, "cut_start_time": 1033.0949951171874, "cut_end_time": 1034.0800576171873}, {"text": " she said to the figure on the clock.", "start_byte": 164101, "end_byte": 164138, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1044.6400146484375, "end_time": 1047.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1044.9250146484374, "cut_end_time": 1046.7800771484374}, {"text": " he said.", "start_byte": 164162, "end_byte": 164171, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1049.1600341796875, "end_time": 1050.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1049.1650341796874, "cut_end_time": 1049.7200341796874}, {"text": " she asked,", "start_byte": 164199, "end_byte": 164210, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1052.239990234375, "end_time": 1052.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1052.424990234375, "cut_end_time": 1052.9801152343748}, {"text": " he replied.", "start_byte": 164341, "end_byte": 164353, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1063.0, "end_time": 1063.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1062.975, "cut_end_time": 1063.73}, {"text": " said Ethelinda;", "start_byte": 164415, "end_byte": 164431, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1069.280029296875, "end_time": 1070.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1069.385029296875, "cut_end_time": 1070.330091796875}, {"text": " cried the Sausage-Glutton,", "start_byte": 164513, "end_byte": 164540, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1076.760009765625, "end_time": 1078.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1076.735009765625, "cut_end_time": 1078.290072265625}, {"text": "And then he trembled all over as the clock struck twelve, and went on eating his sausages without another word, while Ethelinda gave herself up to delightful anticipations of the wonderful adventures that were actually about to happen to her at last.", "start_byte": 164742, "end_byte": 164992, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1091.52001953125, "end_time": 1107.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1091.99501953125, "cut_end_time": 1106.9100820312499}, {"text": "But the jester felt very uneasy about it all; he felt so sure that the old Sausage-Glutton's amiability had some trickery underneath it.", "start_byte": 164994, "end_byte": 165130, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1107.6800537109375, "end_time": 1117.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1108.1150537109374, "cut_end_time": 1117.0601162109374}, {"text": " he said to the Dutch doll in a whisper;", "start_byte": 165162, "end_byte": 165202, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1120.0, "end_time": 1122.1600341796875, "cut_start_time": 1119.975, "cut_end_time": 1121.9900625}, {"text": " she said sulkily;", "start_byte": 165246, "end_byte": 165264, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1125.9599609375, "end_time": 1127.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1125.9349609375, "cut_end_time": 1127.3000234375}, {"text": " said the jester.", "start_byte": 165619, "end_byte": 165636, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1153.0799560546875, "end_time": 1154.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1153.0549560546874, "cut_end_time": 1154.1700185546874}, {"text": " asked the fairy.", "start_byte": 165689, "end_byte": 165706, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1158.4000244140625, "end_time": 1159.8399658203125, "cut_start_time": 1158.4550244140623, "cut_end_time": 1159.4700244140624}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 165718, "end_byte": 165727, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1160.4000244140625, "end_time": 1160.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1160.3750244140624, "cut_end_time": 1161.0600244140624}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 166208, "end_byte": 166217, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1196.8800048828125, "end_time": 1197.760009765625, "cut_start_time": 1196.8550048828124, "cut_end_time": 1197.8600673828123}, {"text": "Then he bent towards Ethelinda and whispered:", "start_byte": 166327, "end_byte": 166372, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1205.6400146484375, "end_time": 1209.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1206.3350146484374, "cut_end_time": 1208.8800146484375}, {"text": " not jealous -- ", "start_byte": 166454, "end_byte": 166470, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1214.3199462890625, "end_time": 1215.280029296875, "cut_start_time": 1214.2949462890624, "cut_end_time": 1215.1400712890625}, {"text": " a great lady. But you'll let me sit by you, and you'll talk to me sometimes in the evenings as you did to-night, won't you?'", "start_byte": 166504, "end_byte": 166629, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1217.47998046875, "end_time": 1224.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1217.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 1224.1500429687499}, {"text": "But Ethelinda, though she heard him plainly, pretended to be fast asleep -- it was of no consequence to her whether he was jealous or not.", "start_byte": 166631, "end_byte": 166769, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1224.5999755859375, "end_time": 1235.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1225.0849755859374, "cut_end_time": 1234.8501005859373}, {"text": "* * * * *", "start_byte": 166771, "end_byte": 166780, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1235.9200439453125, "end_time": 1235.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1235.8950439453124, "cut_end_time": 1236.0201064453124}, {"text": "Winifred was sitting the next afternoon alone in her nursery, trying to play. She was a dear little girl about nine years old, with long, soft, brown hair, a straight little nose, and brown eyes which just then had a wistful, dissatisfied look in them -- for the fact was that, for some reason or other, she could not get on with her dolls at all.", "start_byte": 166782, "end_byte": 167129, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1235.9200439453125, "end_time": 1258.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1236.2850439453125, "cut_end_time": 1258.1801064453125}, {"text": "The jester was not good-looking enough for her; they had put his eyes in so carelessly, and his face had such a", "start_byte": 167131, "end_byte": 167242, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1258.52001953125, "end_time": 1265.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1258.76501953125, "cut_end_time": 1265.13001953125}, {"text": " look, and he was altogether a limp, unmanageable person. She always said to herself that she liked him", "start_byte": 167250, "end_byte": 167353, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1265.56005859375, "end_time": 1272.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1265.53505859375, "cut_end_time": 1273.06005859375}, {"text": " poor clumsy, good-hearted Martha, the housemaid, who had left in disgrace, and presented him as her parting gift; but one might as well not be cared for at all as be liked in that roundabout way.", "start_byte": 167382, "end_byte": 167578, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1274.6800537109375, "end_time": 1288.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1274.9750537109373, "cut_end_time": 1287.6101162109373}, {"text": "And Ethelinda, beautiful and fashionable as she was, was not friendly, and Winifred never could get intimate with her; she felt afraid to treat her as a small child younger than herself, it seemed almost a liberty to nurse her, for Ethelinda seemed to be quite grown up and to know far more than she did herself.", "start_byte": 167580, "end_byte": 167892, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1288.4000244140625, "end_time": 1310.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1288.7850244140625, "cut_end_time": 1309.5100244140624}, {"text": "She sat there looking at Ethelinda, and Ethelinda stared back at her in a cold, distant way, as if she half remembered meeting her somewhere before. There was a fixed smile on her vermilion lips which seemed false and even a little contemptuous to poor lonely little Winifred, who thought it was hard that her own doll should despise her.", "start_byte": 167894, "end_byte": 168232, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1310.1199951171875, "end_time": 1331.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1310.6449951171874, "cut_end_time": 1331.0601201171874}, {"text": "The jester's smile was amiable enough, though it was rather meaningless, but then no one cared about him or how he smiled, as he lay unnoticed on his back in the corner.", "start_byte": 168234, "end_byte": 168403, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1331.6400146484375, "end_time": 1343.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1331.8850146484374, "cut_end_time": 1342.5500146484374}, {"text": "You would not have guessed it from their faces, but both dolls were really very much excited; each was thinking about the Sausage-Glutton and his vague promises, and wondering if, and how, those promises were to be carried out.", "start_byte": 168405, "end_byte": 168632, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1343.43994140625, "end_time": 1358.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 1343.7849414062498, "cut_end_time": 1357.6200664062499}, {"text": "The wooden magician himself was bolting his sausage a minute on the top of the clock just as usual, only the jester fancied his cunning eyes rolled round at them with a peculiar leer as a cheerful whistle was heard on the stairs outside.", "start_byte": 168634, "end_byte": 168871, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1358.6400146484375, "end_time": 1375.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1359.3850146484374, "cut_end_time": 1374.7900146484374}, {"text": "A moment afterwards a lively brown-faced boy in sailor dress put his head in at the door.", "start_byte": 168873, "end_byte": 168962, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1375.1199951171875, "end_time": 1381.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1375.5549951171874, "cut_end_time": 1380.9300576171875}, {"text": " he said,", "start_byte": 168979, "end_byte": 168988, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1382.239990234375, "end_time": 1382.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1382.344990234375, "cut_end_time": 1382.820052734375}, {"text": " said Winnie, plaintively;", "start_byte": 169039, "end_byte": 169065, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1386.8399658203125, "end_time": 1388.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1386.8149658203124, "cut_end_time": 1388.2800283203123}, {"text": "Archie had been skating all the morning, and could not settle down just then to any of his favourite books, so he had come up to see Winnie with the idea of finding something to amuse him there -- for though he was a boy, he did unbend at times, so far as to help her in her games, out of which he managed to get a good deal of amusement in his own peculiar way.", "start_byte": 169161, "end_byte": 169523, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1395.280029296875, "end_time": 1416.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1395.6150292968748, "cut_end_time": 1416.580091796875}, {"text": "But of course he had to make a favour of it, and must not let Winifred see that it was anything but a sacrifice for him to consent.", "start_byte": 169525, "end_byte": 169656, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1416.9200439453125, "end_time": 1425.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1417.4350439453124, "cut_end_time": 1424.9401064453125}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 169688, "end_byte": 169697, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1428.3599853515625, "end_time": 1428.800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1428.3349853515624, "cut_end_time": 1428.9001103515625}, {"text": "For Archie had a way of making the dolls go through exciting adventures, at which Winifred assisted with a fearful wonder that had a fascination about it.", "start_byte": 170026, "end_byte": 170180, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1449.43994140625, "end_time": 1459.0, "cut_start_time": 1449.7349414062498, "cut_end_time": 1458.28000390625}, {"text": " said Archie.", "start_byte": 170243, "end_byte": 170256, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1462.1199951171875, "end_time": 1463.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1462.0949951171874, "cut_end_time": 1462.8500576171873}, {"text": " house than a dozen girls could' (he would have set fire to it); 'but I tell you what: if you'll let me do exactly what I like, and don't go interfering, except when I tell you to, perhaps I will stay a little while -- not long, you know.'", "start_byte": 170297, "end_byte": 170536, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1465.56005859375, "end_time": 1480.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1465.5750585937499, "cut_end_time": 1480.15012109375}, {"text": " said Winifred,", "start_byte": 170550, "end_byte": 170565, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1481.9200439453125, "end_time": 1482.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1481.8950439453124, "cut_end_time": 1482.8800439453123}, {"text": "He was pointing to Ethelinda, whose brain began to tingle at once with a delicious excitement.", "start_byte": 170723, "end_byte": 170817, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1493.8399658203125, "end_time": 1499.9200439453125, "cut_start_time": 1494.2149658203125, "cut_end_time": 1499.5000908203124}, {"text": " she thought;", "start_byte": 170846, "end_byte": 170859, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1502.0400390625, "end_time": 1502.800048828125, "cut_start_time": 1502.0150390625, "cut_end_time": 1502.7201015624998}, {"text": " and she turned her big blue eyes full upon him.", "start_byte": 170924, "end_byte": 170972, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1506.56005859375, "end_time": 1510.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 1506.8850585937498, "cut_end_time": 1509.87012109375}, {"text": " quite sure the romance is going to begin!'", "start_byte": 171037, "end_byte": 171080, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1515.47998046875, "end_time": 1518.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1515.58498046875, "cut_end_time": 1517.9100429687498}, {"text": " he said;", "start_byte": 171155, "end_byte": 171164, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1523.199951171875, "end_time": 1523.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 1523.174951171875, "cut_end_time": 1523.700013671875}, {"text": " ready.'", "start_byte": 171308, "end_byte": 171316, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1533.0, "end_time": 1533.9599609375, "cut_start_time": 1532.975, "cut_end_time": 1533.4599999999998}, {"text": " thought Ethelinda,", "start_byte": 171494, "end_byte": 171513, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1545.52001953125, "end_time": 1546.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 1545.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 1546.58001953125}, {"text": " said Archie:", "start_byte": 171559, "end_byte": 171572, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1550.5999755859375, "end_time": 1551.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 1550.5849755859374, "cut_end_time": 1551.3900380859375}, {"text": " a beautiful queen (only do sit up and take that finger out of your mouth -- queens don't do that). Well, and ", "start_byte": 171598, "end_byte": 171708, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1553.199951171875, "end_time": 1559.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1553.174951171875, "cut_end_time": 1559.540013671875}, {"text": " cried Winifred;", "start_byte": 171815, "end_byte": 171831, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1566.56005859375, "end_time": 1567.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 1566.53505859375, "cut_end_time": 1567.60012109375}, {"text": " said Ethelinda to herself.", "start_byte": 171898, "end_byte": 171925, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1572.1600341796875, "end_time": 1574.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 1572.3350341796875, "cut_end_time": 1574.0200341796874}, {"text": " said the boy,", "start_byte": 171939, "end_byte": 171953, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1575.52001953125, "end_time": 1576.199951171875, "cut_start_time": 1575.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 1576.30001953125}, {"text": " telling this, and I know). You watch her carefully. Can't you see a sort of look in her face as if she didn't think much of you?'", "start_byte": 172055, "end_byte": 172185, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1582.199951171875, "end_time": 1591.3199462890625, "cut_start_time": 1582.194951171875, "cut_end_time": 1590.3800136718748}, {"text": " thought Ethelinda;", "start_byte": 172206, "end_byte": 172225, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1593.199951171875, "end_time": 1594.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 1593.394951171875, "cut_end_time": 1594.320013671875}, {"text": " said Winifred;", "start_byte": 172298, "end_byte": 172313, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1599.280029296875, "end_time": 1600.43994140625, "cut_start_time": 1599.3050292968749, "cut_end_time": 1600.2400292968748}, {"text": " sure she doesn't, then,' protested Winifred.", "start_byte": 172585, "end_byte": 172630, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1620.56005859375, "end_time": 1623.6800537109375, "cut_start_time": 1620.53505859375, "cut_end_time": 1623.40012109375}, {"text": " going.'", "start_byte": 172708, "end_byte": 172716, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 1628.1600341796875, "end_time": 1629.0, "cut_start_time": 1628.1350341796874, "cut_end_time": 1628.5500341796874}]}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5957/clean_text.txt b/test/5957/clean_text.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..a2d91ac25594ef839c623881a385394d0a2e531c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5957/clean_text.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3531 @@
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+THE BLACK POODLE &c.
+
+[Illustration: 'IT'S MY BINGO, FOR ALL THAT!']
+
+THE BLACK POODLE
+
+AND OTHER TALES
+
+BY
+
+F. ANSTEY
+
+AUTHOR OF 'VICE VERSÂ' ETC.
+
+NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
+
+72 FIFTH AVENUE. 1896.
+
+PREFACE.
+
+The Author begs to state that the stories which are collected in this volume made their first appearance in 'Belgravia,' the 'Cornhill Magazine,' the 'Graphic,' 'Longman's Magazine,' 'Mirth,' and 'Temple Bar,' respectively, and he takes this opportunity of expressing his thanks to those Editors to whose courtesy he is indebted for permission to reprint them.
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+PAGE THE BLACK POODLE 1
+
+THE STORY OF A SUGAR PRINCE 46
+
+THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON 69
+
+THE WRAITH OF BARNJUM 93
+
+A TOY TRAGEDY 115
+
+AN UNDERGRADUATE'S AUNT 149
+
+THE SIREN 168
+
+THE CURSE OF THE CATAFALQUES 182
+
+A FAREWELL APPEARANCE 232
+
+ACCOMPANIED ON THE FLUTE 256
+
+THE BLACK POODLE.
+
+[Illustration: I]
+
+I have set myself the task of relating in the course of this story, without suppressing or altering a single detail, the most painful and humiliating episode in my life.
+
+I do this, not because it will give me the least pleasure, but simply because it affords me an opportunity of extenuating myself which has hitherto been wholly denied to me.
+
+As a general rule I am quite aware that to publish a lengthy explanation of one's conduct in any questionable transaction is not the best means of recovering a lost reputation; but in my own case there is one to whom I shall never more be permitted to justify myself by word of mouth -- even if I found myself able to attempt it. And as she could not possibly think worse of me than she does at present, I write this, knowing it can do me no harm, and faintly hoping that it may come to her notice and suggest a doubt whether I am quite so unscrupulous a villain, so consummate a hypocrite, as I have been forced to appear in her eyes.
+
+The bare chance of such a result makes me perfectly indifferent to all else: I cheerfully expose to the derision of the whole reading world the story of my weakness and my shame, since by doing so I may possibly rehabilitate myself somewhat in the good opinion of one person.
+
+Having said so much, I will begin my confession without further delay: -- 
+
+My name is Algernon Weatherhead, and I may add that I am in one of the Government departments; that I am an only son, and live at home with my mother.
+
+We had had a house at Hammersmith until just before the period covered by this history, when, our lease expiring, my mother decided that my health required country air at the close of the day, and so we took a 'desirable villa residence' on one of the many new building estates which have lately sprung up in such profusion in the home counties.
+
+We have called it 'Wistaria Villa.' It is a pretty little place, the last of a row of detached villas, each with its tiny rustic carriage gate and gravel sweep in front, and lawn enough for a tennis court behind, which lines the road leading over the hill to the railway station.
+
+I could certainly have wished that our landlord, shortly after giving us the agreement, could have found some other place to hang himself in than one of our attics, for the consequence was that a housemaid left us in violent hysterics about every two months, having learnt the tragedy from the tradespeople, and naturally 'seen a somethink' immediately afterwards.
+
+Still it is a pleasant house, and I can now almost forgive the landlord for what I shall always consider an act of gross selfishness on his part.
+
+In the country, even so near town, a next-door neighbour is something more than a mere numeral; he is a possible acquaintance, who will at least consider a new-comer as worth the experiment of a call. I soon knew that 'Shuturgarden,' the next house to our own, was occupied by a Colonel Currie, a retired Indian officer; and often, as across the low boundary wall I caught a glimpse of a graceful girlish figure flitting about amongst the rose-bushes in the neighbouring garden, I would lose myself in pleasant anticipations of a time not far distant when the wall which separated us would be (metaphorically) levelled.
+
+I remember -- ah, how vividly! -- the thrill of excitement with which I heard from my mother on returning from town one evening that the Curries had called, and seemed disposed to be all that was neighbourly and kind.
+
+I remember, too, the Sunday afternoon on which I returned their call -- alone, as my mother had already done so during the week. I was standing on the steps of the Colonel's villa waiting for the door to open when I was startled by a furious snarling and yapping behind, and, looking round, discovered a large poodle in the act of making for my legs.
+
+He was a coal-black poodle, with half of his right ear gone, and absurd little thick moustaches at the end of his nose; he was shaved in the sham-lion fashion, which is considered, for some mysterious reason, to improve a poodle, but the barber had left sundry little tufts of hair which studded his haunches capriciously.
+
+I could not help being reminded, as I looked at him, of another black poodle which Faust entertained for a short time, with unhappy results, and I thought that a very moderate degree of incantation would be enough to bring the fiend out of this brute.
+
+He made me intensely uncomfortable, for I am of a slightly nervous temperament, with a constitutional horror of dogs and a liability to attacks of diffidence on performing the ordinary social rites under the most favourable conditions, and certainly the consciousness that a strange and apparently savage dog was engaged in worrying the heels of my boots was the reverse of reassuring.
+
+The Currie family received me with all possible kindness: 'So charmed to make your acquaintance, Mr. Weatherhead,' said Mrs. Currie, as I shook hands. 'I see,' she added pleasantly, 'you've brought the doggie in with you.' As a matter of fact, I had brought the doggie in at the ends of my coat-tails, but it was evidently no unusual occurrence for visitors to appear in this undignified manner, for she detached him quite as a matter of course, and, as soon as I was sufficiently collected, we fell into conversation.
+
+I discovered that the Colonel and his wife were childless, and the slender willowy figure I had seen across the garden wall was that of Lilian Roseblade, their niece and adopted daughter. She came into the room shortly afterwards, and I felt, as I went through the form of an introduction, that her sweet fresh face, shaded by soft masses of dusky brown hair, more than justified all the dreamy hopes and fancies with which I had looked forward to that moment.
+
+She talked to me in a pretty, confidential, appealing way, which I have heard her dearest friends censure as childish and affected, but I thought then that her manner had an indescribable charm and fascination about it, and the memory of it makes my heart ache now with a pang that is not all pain.
+
+Even before the Colonel made his appearance I had begun to see that my enemy, the poodle, occupied an exceptional position in that household. It was abundantly clear by the time I took my leave.
+
+He seemed to be the centre of their domestic system, and even lovely Lilian revolved contentedly around him as a kind of satellite; he could do no wrong in his owner's eyes, his prejudices (and he was a narrow-minded animal) were rigorously respected, and all domestic arrangements were made with a primary view to his convenience.
+
+I may be wrong, but I cannot think that it is wise to put any poodle upon such a pedestal as that. How this one in particular, as ordinary a quadruped as ever breathed, had contrived to impose thus upon his infatuated proprietors, I never could understand, but so it was -- he even engrossed the chief part of the conversation, which after any lull seemed to veer round to him by a sort of natural law.
+
+I had to endure a long biographical sketch of him -- what a Society paper would call an 'anecdotal photo' -- and each fresh anecdote seemed to me to exhibit the depraved malignity of the beast in a more glaring light, and render the doting admiration of the family more astounding than ever.
+
+'Did you tell Mr. Weatherhead, Lily, about Bingo' (Bingo was the poodle's preposterous name) 'and Tacks? No? Oh, I must tell him that -- it'll make him laugh. Tacks is our gardener down in the village (d'ye know Tacks?). Well, Tacks was up here the other day, nailing up some trellis-work at the top of a ladder, and all the time there was Master Bingo sitting quietly at the foot of it looking on, wouldn't leave it on any account. Tacks said he was quite company for him. Well, at last, when Tacks had finished and was coming down, what do you think that rascal there did? Just sneaked quietly up behind and nipped him in both calves and ran off. Been looking out for that the whole time! Ha, ha! -- deep that, eh?'
+
+I agreed with an inward shudder that it was very deep, thinking privately that, if this was a specimen of Bingo's usual treatment of the natives, it would be odd if he did not find himself deeper still before -- probably just before -- he died.
+
+'Poor faithful old doggie!' murmured Mrs. Currie; 'he thought Tacks was a nasty burglar, didn't he? he wasn't going to see Master robbed, was he?'
+
+'Capital house-dog, sir,' struck in the Colonel. 'Gad, I shall never forget how he made poor Heavisides run for it the other day! Ever met Heavisides of the Bombay Fusiliers? Well, Heavisides was staying here, and the dog met him one morning as he was coming down from the bath-room. Didn't recognise him in "pyjamas" and a dressing-gown, of course, and made at him. He kept poor old Heavisides outside the landing window on the top of the cistern for a quarter of an hour, till I had to come and raise the siege!'
+
+Such were the stories of that abandoned dog's blunderheaded ferocity to which I was forced to listen, while all the time the brute sat opposite me on the hearthrug, blinking at me from under his shaggy mane with his evil bleared eyes, and deliberating where he would have me when I rose to go.
+
+This was the beginning of an intimacy which soon displaced all ceremony. It was very pleasant to go in there after dinner, even to sit with the Colonel over his claret and hear more stories about Bingo, for afterwards I could go into the pretty drawing-room and take my tea from Lilian's hands, and listen while she played Schubert to us in the summer twilight.
+
+The poodle was always in the way, to be sure, but even his ugly black head seemed to lose some of its ugliness and ferocity when Lilian laid her pretty hand on it.
+
+On the whole I think that the Currie family were well disposed towards me; the Colonel considering me as a harmless specimen of the average eligible young man -- which I certainly was -- and Mrs. Currie showing me favour for my mother's sake, for whom she had taken a strong liking.
+
+As for Lilian, I believed I saw that she soon suspected the state of my feelings towards her and was not displeased by it. I looked forward with some hopefulness to a day when I could declare myself with no fear of a repulse.
+
+But it was a serious obstacle in my path that I could not secure Bingo's good opinion on any terms. The family would often lament this pathetically themselves. 'You see,' Mrs. Currie would observe in apology, 'Bingo is a dog that does not attach himself easily to strangers' -- though for that matter I thought he was unpleasantly ready to attach himself to me.
+
+I did try hard to conciliate him. I brought him propitiatory buns -- which was weak and ineffectual, as he ate them with avidity, and hated me as bitterly as ever, for he had conceived from the first a profound contempt for me and a distrust which no blandishments of mine could remove. Looking back now, I am inclined to think it was a prophetic instinct that warned him of what was to come upon him through my instrumentality.
+
+Only his approbation was wanting to establish for me a firm footing with the Curries, and perhaps determine Lilian's wavering heart in my direction; but, though I wooed that inflexible poodle with an assiduity I blush to remember, he remained obstinately firm.
+
+Still, day by day, Lilian's treatment of me was more encouraging; day by day I gained in the esteem of her uncle and aunt; I began to hope that soon I should be able to disregard canine influence altogether.
+
+Now there was one inconvenience about our villa (besides its flavour of suicide) which it is necessary to mention here. By common consent all the cats of the neighbourhood had selected our garden for their evening reunions. I fancy that a tortoiseshell kitchen cat of ours must have been a sort of leader of local feline society -- I know she was 'at home,' with music and recitations, on most evenings.
+
+My poor mother found this interfered with her after-dinner nap, and no wonder, for if a cohort of ghosts had been 'shrieking and squealing,' as Calpurnia puts it, in our back garden, or it had been fitted up as a crèche for a nursery of goblin infants in the agonies of teething, the noise could not possibly have been more unearthly.
+
+We sought for some means of getting rid of the nuisance: there was poison of course, but we thought it would have an invidious appearance, and even lead to legal difficulties, if each dawn were to discover an assortment of cats expiring in hideous convulsions in various parts of the same garden.
+
+Firearms, too, were open to objection, and would scarcely assist my mother's slumbers, so for some time we were at a loss for a remedy. At last, one day, walking down the Strand, I chanced to see (in an evil hour) what struck me as the very thing -- it was an air-gun of superior construction displayed in a gunsmith's window. I went in at once, purchased it, and took it home in triumph; it would be noiseless, and would reduce the local average of cats without scandal -- one or two examples, and feline fashion would soon migrate to a more secluded spot.
+
+I lost no time in putting this to the proof. That same evening I lay in wait after dusk at the study window, protecting my mother's repose. As soon as I heard the long-drawn wail, the preliminary sputter, and the wild stampede that followed, I let fly in the direction of the sound. I suppose I must have something of the national sporting instinct in me, for my blood was tingling with excitement; but the feline constitution assimilates lead without serious inconvenience, and I began to fear that no trophy would remain to bear witness to my marksmanship.
+
+But all at once I made out a dark indistinct form slinking in from behind the bushes. I waited till it crossed a belt of light which streamed from the back kitchen below me, and then I took careful aim and pulled the trigger.
+
+This time at least I had not failed -- there was a smothered yell, a rustle -- and then silence again. I ran out with the calm pride of a successful revenge to bring in the body of my victim, and I found underneath a laurel, no predatory tom-cat, but (as the discerning reader will no doubt have foreseen long since) the quivering carcase of the Colonel's black poodle!
+
+I intend to set down here the exact unvarnished truth, and I confess that at first, when I knew what I had done, I was not sorry. I was quite innocent of any intention of doing it, but I felt no regret. I even laughed -- madman that I was -- at the thought that there was the end of Bingo at all events; that impediment was removed, my weary task of conciliation was over for ever!
+
+But soon the reaction came; I realised the tremendous nature of my deed, and shuddered. I had done that which might banish me from Lilian's side for ever! All unwittingly I had slaughtered a kind of sacred beast, the animal around which the Currie household had wreathed their choicest affections! How was I to break it to them? Should I send Bingo in with a card tied to his neck and my regrets and compliments? That was too much like a present of game. Ought I not to carry him in myself? I would wreathe him in the best crape, I would put on black for him -- the Curries would hardly consider a taper and a white sheet, or sackcloth and ashes, an excessive form of atonement -- but I could not grovel to quite such an abject extent.
+
+I wondered what the Colonel would say. Simple and hearty as a general rule, he had a hot temper on occasions, and it made me ill as I thought, would he and, worse still, would Lilian believe it was really an accident? They knew what an interest I had in silencing the deceased poodle -- would they believe the simple truth?
+
+I vowed that they should believe me. My genuine remorse and the absence of all concealment on my part would speak powerfully for me. I would choose a favourable time for my confession; that very evening I would tell all.
+
+Still I shrank from the duty before me, and as I knelt down sorrowfully by the dead form and respectfully composed his stiffening limbs, I thought that it was unjust of Fate to place a well-meaning man, whose nerves were not of iron, in such a position.
+
+Then, to my horror, I heard a well-known ringing tramp on the road outside, and smelt the peculiar fragrance of a Burmese cheroot. It was the Colonel himself, who had been taking out the doomed Bingo for his usual evening run.
+
+I don't know how it was exactly, but a sudden panic came over me. I held my breath, and tried to crouch down unseen behind the laurels; but he had seen me, and came over at once to speak to me across the hedge.
+
+He stood there, not two yards from his favourite's body! Fortunately it was unusually dark that evening.
+
+'Ha, there you are, eh?' he began heartily; 'don't rise, my boy, don't rise.' I was trying to put myself in front of the poodle, and did not rise -- at least, only my hair did.
+
+'You're out late, ain't you?' he went on; 'laying out your garden, hey?'
+
+I could not tell him that I was laying out his poodle! My voice shook as, with a guilty confusion that was veiled by the dusk, I said it was a fine evening -- which it was not.
+
+'Cloudy, sir,' said the Colonel, 'cloudy -- rain before morning, I think. By the way, have you seen anything of my Bingo in here?'
+
+This was the turning point. What I ought to have done was to say mournfully, 'Yes, I'm sorry to say I've had a most unfortunate accident with him -- here he is -- the fact is, I'm afraid I've shot him!'
+
+But I couldn't. I could have told him at my own time, in a prepared form of words -- but not then. I felt I must use all my wits to gain time and fence with the questions.
+
+'Why,' I said with a leaden airiness, 'he hasn't given you the slip, has he?'
+
+'Never did such a thing in his life!' said the Colonel, warmly; 'he rushed off after a rat or a frog or something a few minutes ago, and as I stopped to light another cheroot I lost sight of him. I thought I saw him slip in under your gate, but I've been calling him from the front there and he won't come out.'
+
+No, and he never would come out any more. But the Colonel must not be told that just yet. I temporised again: 'If,' I said unsteadily, 'if he had slipped in under the gate, I should have seen him. Perhaps he took it into his head to run home?'
+
+'Oh, I shall find him on the doorstep, I expect, the knowing old scamp! Why, what d'ye think was the last thing he did, now?'
+
+I could have given him the very latest intelligence; but I dared not. However, it was altogether too ghastly to kneel there and laugh at anecdotes of Bingo told across Bingo's dead body; I could not stand that! 'Listen,' I said suddenly, 'wasn't that his bark? There again; it seems to come from the front of your house, don't you think?'
+
+'Well,' said the Colonel, 'I'll go and fasten him up before he's off again. How your teeth are chattering -- you've caught a chill, man -- go indoors at once and, if you feel equal to it, look in half an hour later about grog time, and I'll tell you all about it. Compliments to your mother. Don't forget -- about grog time!' I had got rid of him at last, and I wiped my forehead, gasping with relief. I would go round in half an hour, and then I should be prepared to make my melancholy announcement. For, even then, I never thought of any other course, until suddenly it flashed upon me with terrible clearness that my miserable shuffling by the hedge had made it impossible to tell the truth! I had not told a direct lie, to be sure, but then I had given the Colonel the impression that I had denied having seen the dog. Many people can appease their consciences by reflecting that, whatever may be the effect their words produce, they did contrive to steer clear of a downright lie. I never quite knew where the distinction lay, morally, but there is that feeling -- I have it myself.
+
+Unfortunately, prevarication has this drawback, that, if ever the truth comes to light, the prevaricator is in just the same case as if he had lied to the most shameless extent, and for a man to point out that the words he used contained no absolute falsehood will seldom restore confidence.
+
+I might of course still tell the Colonel of my misfortune, and leave him to infer that it had happened after our interview, but the poodle was fast becoming cold and stiff, and they would most probably suspect the real time of the occurrence.
+
+And then Lilian would hear that I had told a string of falsehoods to her uncle over the dead body of their idolised Bingo -- an act, no doubt, of abominable desecration, of unspeakable profanity in her eyes!
+
+If it would have been difficult before to prevail on her to accept a bloodstained hand, it would be impossible after that. No, I had burnt my ships, I was cut off for ever from the straightforward course; that one moment of indecision had decided my conduct in spite of me -- I must go on with it now and keep up the deception at all hazards.
+
+It was bitter. I had always tried to preserve as many of the moral principles which had been instilled into me as can be conveniently retained in this grasping world, and it had been my pride that, roughly speaking, I had never been guilty of an unmistakable falsehood.
+
+But henceforth, if I meant to win Lilian, that boast must be relinquished for ever! I should have to lie now with all my might, without limit or scruple, to dissemble incessantly, and 'wear a mask,' as the poet Bunn beautifully expressed it long ago, 'over my hollow heart.' I felt all this keenly -- I did not think it was right -- but what was I to do?
+
+After thinking all this out very carefully, I decided that my only course was to bury the poor animal where he fell and say nothing about it. With some vague idea of precaution I first took off the silver collar he wore, and then hastily interred him with a garden-trowel and succeeded in removing all traces of the disaster.
+
+I fancy I felt a certain relief in the knowledge that there would now be no necessity to tell my pitiful story and risk the loss of my neighbours' esteem.
+
+By-and-by, I thought, I would plant a rose-tree over his remains, and some day, as Lilian and I, in the noontide of our domestic bliss, stood before it admiring its creamy luxuriance, I might (perhaps) find courage to confess that the tree owed some of that luxuriance to the long-lost Bingo.
+
+There was a touch of poetry in this idea that lightened my gloom for the moment.
+
+I need scarcely say that I did not go round to Shuturgarden that evening. I was not hardened enough for that yet -- my manner might betray me, and so I very prudently stayed at home.
+
+But that night my sleep was broken by frightful dreams. I was perpetually trying to bury a great gaunt poodle, which would persist in rising up through the damp mould as fast as I covered him up.... Lilian and I were engaged, and we were in church together on Sunday, and the poodle, resisting all attempts to eject him, forbade our banns with sepulchral barks.... It was our wedding-day, and at the critical moment the poodle leaped between us and swallowed the ring.... Or we were at the wedding-breakfast, and Bingo, a grizzly black skeleton with flaming eyes, sat on the cake and would not allow Lilian to cut it. Even the rose-tree fancy was reproduced in a distorted form -- the tree grew, and every blossom contained a miniature Bingo, which barked; and as I woke I was desperately trying to persuade the Colonel that they were ordinary dog-roses.
+
+I went up to the office next day with my gloomy secret gnawing my bosom, and, whatever I did, the spectre of the murdered poodle rose before me. For two days after that I dared not go near the Curries, until at last one evening after dinner I forced myself to call, feeling that it was really not safe to keep away any longer.
+
+My conscience smote me as I went in. I put on an unconscious easy manner, which was such a dismal failure that it was lucky for me that they were too much engrossed to notice it.
+
+I never before saw a family so stricken down by a domestic misfortune as the group I found in the drawing-room, making a dejected pretence of reading or working. We talked at first -- and hollow talk it was -- on indifferent subjects, till I could bear it no longer, and plunged boldly into danger.
+
+'I don't see the dog,' I began. 'I suppose you -- you found him all right the other evening, Colonel?' I wondered as I spoke whether they would not notice the break in my voice, but they did not.
+
+'Why, the fact is,' said the Colonel, heavily, gnawing his grey moustache, 'we've not heard anything of him since: he's -- he's run off!'
+
+'Gone, Mr. Weatherhead; gone without a word!' said Mrs. Currie, plaintively, as if she thought the dog might at least have left an address.
+
+'I wouldn't have believed it of him,' said the Colonel; 'it has completely knocked me over. Haven't been so cut up for years -- the ungrateful rascal!'
+
+'Oh, Uncle!' pleaded Lilian, 'don't talk like that; perhaps Bingo couldn't help it -- perhaps some one has s-s-shot him!'
+
+'Shot!' cried the Colonel, angrily. 'By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd -- -- Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I -- I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?'
+
+I said -- Heaven forgive me! -- that I thought it highly improbable.
+
+'He's not dead!' cried Mrs. Currie. 'If he were dead I should know it somehow -- I'm sure I should! But I'm certain he's alive. Only last night I had such a beautiful dream about him. I thought he came back to us, Mr. Weatherhead, driving up in a hansom cab, and he was just the same as ever -- only he wore blue spectacles, and the shaved part of him was painted a bright red. And I woke up with the joy -- so, you know, it's sure to come true!'
+
+It will be easily understood what torture conversations like these were to me, and how I hated myself as I sympathised and spoke encouraging words concerning the dog's recovery, when I knew all the time he was lying hid under my garden mould. But I took it as a part of my punishment, and bore it all uncomplainingly; practice even made me an adept in the art of consolation -- I believe I really was a great comfort to them.
+
+I had hoped that they would soon get over the first bitterness of their loss, and that Bingo would be first replaced and then forgotten in the usual way; but there seemed no signs of this coming to pass.
+
+The poor Colonel was too plainly fretting himself ill about it; he went pottering about forlornly -- advertising, searching, and seeing people, but all of course to no purpose, and it told upon him. He was more like a man whose only son and heir had been stolen, than an Anglo-Indian officer who had lost a poodle. I had to affect the liveliest interest in all his inquiries and expeditions, and to listen to, and echo, the most extravagant eulogies of the departed, and the wear and tear of so much duplicity made me at last almost as ill as the Colonel himself.
+
+I could not help seeing that Lilian was not nearly so much impressed by my elaborate concern as her relatives; and sometimes I detected an incredulous look in her frank brown eyes that made me very uneasy. Little by little, a rift widened between us, until at last in despair I determined to know the worst before the time came when it would be hopeless to speak at all. I chose a Sunday evening as we were walking across the green from church in the golden dusk, and then I ventured to speak to her of my love. She heard me to the end, and was evidently very much agitated. At last she murmured that it could not be, unless -- no, it never could be now.
+
+'Unless what?' I asked. 'Lilian -- Miss Roseblade, something has come between us lately: you will tell me what that something is, won't you?'
+
+'Do you want to know really?' she said, looking up at me through her tears. 'Then I'll tell you: it -- it's Bingo!'
+
+I started back overwhelmed. Did she know all? If not, how much did she suspect? I must find out that at once! 'What about Bingo?' I managed to pronounce, with a dry tongue.
+
+'You never l-loved him when he was here,' she sobbed; 'you know you didn't!'
+
+I was relieved to find it was no worse than this.
+
+'No,' I said candidly; 'I did not love Bingo. Bingo didn't love me, Lilian; he was always looking out for a chance of nipping me somewhere. Surely you won't quarrel with me for that!'
+
+'Not for that,' she said; 'only, why do you pretend to be so fond of him now, and so anxious to get him back again? Uncle John believes you, but I don't. I can see quite well that you wouldn't be glad to find him. You could find him easily if you wanted to!'
+
+'What do you mean, Lilian?' I said hoarsely. 'How could I find him?' Again I feared the worst.
+
+'You're in a Government office,' cried Lilian and if you only chose, you could easily g-get G-Government to find Bingo! What's the use of Government if it can't do that? Mr. Travers would have found him long ago if I'd asked him!'
+
+Lilian had never been so childishly unreasonable as this before, and yet I loved her more madly than ever; but I did not like this allusion to Travers, a rising barrister, who lived with his sister in a pretty cottage near the station, and had shown symptoms of being attracted by Lilian.
+
+He was away on circuit just then, luckily, but at least even he would have found it a hard task to find Bingo -- there was comfort in that.
+
+'You know that isn't just, Lilian,' I observed 'But only tell me what you want me to do?'
+
+'Bub -- bub -- bring back Bingo!' she said.
+
+'Bring back Bingo!' I cried in horror. 'But suppose I can't -- suppose he's out of the country, or -- dead, what then, Lilian?'
+
+'I can't help it,' she said; 'but I don't believe he is out of the country or dead. And while I see you pretending to Uncle that you cared awfully about him, and going on doing nothing at all, it makes me think you're not quite -- quite sincere! And I couldn't possibly marry any one while I thought that of him. And I shall always have that feeling unless you find Bingo!'
+
+It was of no use to argue with her; I knew Lilian by that time. With her pretty caressing manner she united a latent obstinacy which it was hopeless to attempt to shake. I feared, too, that she was not quite certain as yet whether she cared for me or not, and that this condition of hers was an expedient to gain time.
+
+I left her with a heavy heart. Unless I proved my worth by bringing back Bingo within a very short time, Travers would probably have everything his own way. And Bingo was dead!
+
+However, I took heart. I thought that perhaps if I could succeed by my earnest efforts in persuading Lilian that I really was doing all in my power to recover the poodle, she might relent in time, and dispense with his actual production.
+
+So, partly with this object, and partly to appease the remorse which now revived and stung me deeper than before, I undertook long and weary pilgrimages after office hours. I spent many pounds in advertisements; I interviewed dogs of every size, colour, and breed, and of course I took care to keep Lilian informed of each successive failure. But still her heart was not touched; she was firm. If I went on like that, she told me, I was certain to find Bingo one day -- then, but not before, would her doubts be set at rest.
+
+I was walking one day through the somewhat squalid district which lies between Bow Street and High Holborn, when I saw, in a small theatrical costumier's window, a handbill stating that a black poodle had 'followed a gentleman' on a certain date, and if not claimed and the finder remunerated before a stated time, would be sold to pay expenses.
+
+I went in and got a copy of the bill to show Lilian, and although by that time I scarcely dared to look a poodle in the face, I thought I would go to the address given and see the animal, simply to be able to tell Lilian I had done so.
+
+The gentleman whom the dog had very unaccountably followed was a certain Mr. William Blagg, who kept a little shop near Endell Street, and called himself a bird-fancier, though I should scarcely have credited him with the necessary imagination. He was an evil-browed ruffian in a fur cap, with a broad broken nose and little shifty red eyes, and after I had told him what I wanted, he took me through a horrible little den, stacked with piles of wooden, wire, and wicker prisons, each quivering with restless, twittering life, and then out into a back yard, in which were two or three rotten old kennels and tubs. 'That there's him,' he said, jerking his thumb to the farthest tub; 'follered me all the way 'ome from Kinsington Gardings, he did. Kim out, will yer?'
+
+And out of the tub there crawled slowly, with a snuffling whimper and a rattling of its chain, the identical dog I had slain a few evenings before!
+
+At least, so I thought for a moment, and felt as if I had seen a spectre; the resemblance was so exact -- in size, in every detail, even to the little clumps of hair about the hind parts, even to the lop of half an ear, this dog might have been the 'doppel-gänger' of the deceased Bingo. I suppose, after all, one black poodle is very like any other black poodle of the same size, but the likeness startled me.
+
+I think it was then that the idea occurred to me that here was a miraculous chance of securing the sweetest girl in the whole world, and at the same time atoning for my wrong by bringing back gladness with me to Shuturgarden. It only needed a little boldness; one last deception, and I could embrace truthfulness once more.
+
+Almost unconsciously, when my guide turned round and asked,' Is that there dawg yourn?' I said hurriedly, 'Yes, yes -- that's the dog I want, that -- that's Bingo!'
+
+'He don't seem to be a puttin' of 'isself out about seeing you again,' observed Mr. Blagg, as the poodle studied me with a calm interest.
+
+'Oh, he's not exactly my dog, you see,' I said; 'he belongs to a friend of mine!'
+
+He gave me a quick furtive glance. 'Then maybe you're mistook about him,' he said: 'and I can't run no risks. I was a goin' down in the country this 'ere werry evenin' to see a party as lives at Wistaria Willa, -- he's been a hadwertisin' about a black poodle, he has!'
+
+'But look here,' I said, 'that's me.'
+
+He gave me a curious leer. 'No offence, you know, guv'nor,' he said, 'but I should wish for some evidence as to that afore I part with a vallyable dawg like this 'ere!'
+
+'Well,' I said, 'here's one of my cards; will that do for you?'
+
+He took it and spelt it out with a pretence of great caution, but I saw well enough that the old scoundrel suspected that if I had lost a dog at all, it was not this particular dog. 'Ah,' he said, as he put it in his pocket, 'if I part with him to you, I must be cleared of all risks. I can't afford to get into trouble about no mistakes. Unless you likes to leave him for a day or two, you must pay accordin', you see.'
+
+I wanted to get the hateful business over as soon as possible. I did not care what I paid -- Lilian was worth all the expense! I said I had no doubt myself as to the real ownership of the animal, but I would give him any sum in reason, and would remove the dog at once.
+
+And so we settled it. I paid him an extortionate sum, and came away with a duplicate poodle, a canine counterfeit which I hoped to pass off at Shuturgarden as the long-lost Bingo.
+
+I know it was wrong -- it even came unpleasantly near dog-stealing -- but I was a desperate man. I saw Lilian gradually slipping away from me, I knew that nothing short of this could ever recall her, I was sorely tempted, I had gone far on the same road already, it was the old story of being hung for a sheep. And so I fell.
+
+Surely some who read this will be generous enough to consider the peculiar state of the case, and mingle a little pity with their contempt.
+
+I was dining in town that evening and took my purchase home by a late train; his demeanour was grave and intensely respectable; he was not the animal to commit himself by any flagrant indiscretion -- he was gentle and tractable, too, and in all respects an agreeable contrast in character to the original. Still, it may have been the after-dinner workings of conscience, but I could not help fancying that I saw a certain look in the creature's eyes, as if he were aware that he was required to connive at a fraud, and rather resented it.
+
+If he would only be good enough to back me up! Fortunately, however, he was such a perfect facsimile of the outward Bingo, that the risk of detection was really inconsiderable.
+
+When I got him home, I put Bingo's silver collar round his neck -- congratulating myself on my forethought in preserving it, and took him in to see my mother. She accepted him as what he seemed, without the slightest misgiving; but this, though it encouraged me to go on, was not decisive, the spurious poodle would have to encounter the scrutiny of those who knew every tuft on the genuine animal's body!
+
+Nothing would have induced me to undergo such an ordeal as that of personally restoring him to the Curries. We gave him supper, and tied him up on the lawn, where he howled dolefully all night, and buried bones.
+
+The next morning I wrote a note to Mrs. Currie, expressing my pleasure at being able to restore the lost one, and another to Lilian, containing only the words, 'Will you believe now that I am sincere?' Then I tied both round the poodle's neck and dropped him over the wall into the Colonel's garden just before I started to catch my train to town.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I had an anxious walk home from the station that evening; I went round by the longer way, trembling the whole time lest I should meet any of the Currie household, to which I felt myself entirely unequal just then. I could not rest until I knew whether my fraud had succeeded, or if the poodle to which I had entrusted my fate had basely betrayed me; but my suspense was happily ended as soon as I entered my mother's room. 'You can't think how delighted those poor Curries were to see Bingo again,'she said at once; 'and they said such charming things about you, Algy -- Lilian, particularly -- quite affected she seemed, poor child! And they wanted you to go round and dine there and be thanked to-night, but at last I persuaded them to come to us instead. And they're going to bring the dog to make friends. Oh, and I met Frank Travers; he's back from circuit again now, so I asked him in too, to meet them!'
+
+I drew a deep breath of relief. I had played a desperate game -- but I had won! I could have wished, to be sure, that my mother had not thought of bringing in Travers on that of all evenings -- but I hoped that I could defy him after this.
+
+The Colonel and his people were the first to arrive; he and his wife being so effusively grateful that they made me very uncomfortable indeed; Lilian met me with downcast eyes, and the faintest possible blush, but she said nothing just then. Five minutes afterwards, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly, 'Mr. Weatherhead -- Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?' And I replied that, upon the whole, I could.
+
+We were not in that conservatory long, but, before we left it, beautiful Lilian Roseblade had consented to make my life happy. When we re-entered the drawing-room, we found Frank Travers, who had been told the story of the recovery, and I observed his jaw fall as he glanced at our faces, and noted the triumphant smile which I have no doubt mine wore, and the tender dreamy look in Lilian's soft eyes. Poor Travers, I was sorry for him, although I was not fond of him. Travers was a good type of the rising young Common Law barrister; tall, not bad-looking, with keen dark eyes, black whiskers, and the mobile forensic mouth, which can express every shade of feeling, from deferential assent to cynical incredulity; possessed, too, of an endless flow of conversation that was decidedly agreeable, if a trifle too laboriously so, he had been a dangerous rival. But all that was over now -- he saw it himself at once, and during dinner sank into dismal silence, gazing pathetically at Lilian, and sighing almost obtrusively between the courses. His stream of small talk seemed to have been cut off at the main.
+
+'You've done a kind thing, Weatherhead,' said the Colonel. 'I can't tell you all that dog is to me, and how I missed the poor beast. I'd quite given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and all the time there was Weatherhead, Mr. Travers, quietly searching all London till he found him! I shan't forget it. It shows a really kind feeling.'
+
+I saw by Travers's face that he was telling himself he would have found fifty Bingos in half the time -- if he had only thought of it; he smiled a melancholy assent to all the Colonel said, and then began to study me with an obviously depreciatory air.
+
+'You can't think,' I heard Mrs. Currie telling my mother, 'how really touching it was to see poor dear Bingo's emotion at seeing all the old familiar objects again! He went up and sniffed at them all in turn, quite plainly recognising everything. And he was quite put out to find that we had moved his favourite ottoman out of the drawing-room. But he is so penitent, too, and so ashamed of having run away; he hardly dares to come when John calls him, and he kept under a chair in the hall all the morning -- he wouldn't come in here either, so we had to leave him in your garden.'
+
+'He's been sadly out of spirits all day,' said Lilian; 'he hasn't bitten one of the tradespeople.'
+
+'Oh, he's all right, the rascal!' said the Colonel, cheerily; 'he'll be after the cats again as well as ever in a day or two.'
+
+'Ah, those cats!' said my poor innocent mother. 'Algy, you haven't tried the air-gun on them again lately, have you? They're worse than ever.'
+
+I troubled the Colonel to pass the claret; Travers laughed for the first time. 'That's a good idea,' he said, in that carrying 'bar-mess' voice of his; 'an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?' I said that I did, very good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.
+
+'Oh, Algy is an excellent shot -- quite a sportsman,' said my mother. 'I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one.'
+
+'Well,' said the Colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, 'don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this -- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything.'
+
+'If you really won't take any more wine,' I said hurriedly, addressing the Colonel and Travers, 'suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It -- it will be cooler there.' For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.
+
+I left Travers to amuse the ladies -- he could do no more harm now; and taking the Colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially. 'There's not a man in England,' he said, 'that I'd sooner see her married to after to-day. You're a quiet steady young fellow, and you've a good kind heart. As for the money, that's neither here nor there; Lilian won't come to you without a penny, you know. But really, my boy, you can hardly believe what it is to my poor wife and me to see that dog. Why, bless my soul, look at him now! What's the matter with him, eh?'
+
+To my unutterable horror I saw that that miserable poodle, after begging unnoticed at the tea-table for some time, had retired to an open space before it, where he was now industriously standing on his head.
+
+We gathered round and examined the animal curiously, as he continued to balance himself gravely in his abnormal position. 'Good gracious, John,' cried Mrs. Currie, 'I never saw Bingo do such a thing before in his life!'
+
+'Very odd,' said the Colonel, putting up his glasses; 'never learnt that from me.'
+
+'I tell you what I fancy it is,' I suggested wildly. 'You see, he was always a sensitive, excitable animal, and perhaps the -- the sudden joy of his return has gone to his head -- upset him, you know.'
+
+They seemed disposed to accept this solution, and indeed I believe they would have credited Bingo with every conceivable degree of sensibility; but I felt myself that if this unhappy animal had many more of these accomplishments I was undone, for the original Bingo had never been a dog of parts.
+
+'It's very odd,' said Travers, reflectively, as the dog recovered his proper level, 'but I always thought that it was half the right ear that Bingo had lost?'
+
+'So it is, isn't it?' said the Colonel. 'Left, eh? Well, I thought myself it was the right.'
+
+My heart almost stopped with terror -- I had altogether forgotten that. I hastened to set the point at rest. 'Oh, it was the left,' I said positively; 'I know it because I remember so particularly thinking how odd it was that it should be the left ear, and not the right!' I told myself this should be positively my last lie.
+
+'Why odd?' asked Frank Travers, with his most offensive Socratic manner.
+
+'My dear fellow, I can't tell you,' I said impatiently; 'everything seems odd when you come to think at all about it.'
+
+'Algernon,' said Lilian later on, 'will you tell Aunt Mary and Mr. Travers, and -- and me, how it was you came to find Bingo? Mr. Travers is quite anxious to hear all about it.'
+
+I could not very well refuse; I sat down and told the story, all my own way. I painted Blagg, perhaps, rather bigger and blacker than life, and described an exciting scene, in which I recognised Bingo by his collar in the streets, and claimed and bore him off then and there in spite of all opposition.
+
+I had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing Travers grinding his teeth with envy as I went on, and feeling Lilian's soft, slender hand glide silently into mine as I told my tale in the twilight.
+
+All at once, just as I reached the climax, we heard the poodle barking furiously at the hedge which separated my garden from the road. 'There's a foreign-looking man staring over the hedge,' said Lilian; 'Bingo always did hate foreigners.'
+
+There certainly was a swarthy man there, and, though I had no reason for it then, somehow my heart died within me at the sight of him.
+
+'Don't be alarmed, sir,' cried the Colonel, 'the dog won't bite you -- unless there's a hole in the hedge anywhere.'
+
+The stranger took off his small straw hat with a sweep. 'Ah, I am not afraid,' he said, and his accent proclaimed him a Frenchman, 'he is not enrage at me. May I ask, is it pairmeet to speak wiz Misterre Vezzered?'
+
+I felt I must deal with this person alone, for I feared the worst; and, asking them to excuse me, I went to the hedge and faced the Frenchman with the frightful calm of despair. He was a short, stout little man, with blue cheeks, sparkling black eyes, and a vivacious walnut-coloured countenance; he wore a short black alpaca coat, and a large white cravat with an immense oval malachite brooch in the centre of it, which I mention because I found myself staring mechanically at it during the interview.
+
+'My name is Weatherhead,' I began, with the bearing of a detected pickpocket. 'Can I be of any service to you?'
+
+'Of a great service,' he said emphatically; 'you can restore to me ze poodle vich I see zere!'
+
+Nemesis had called at last in the shape of a rival claimant. I staggered for an instant; then I said, 'Oh, I think you are under a mistake -- that dog is not mine.'
+
+'I know it,' he said; 'zere 'as been leetle mistake, so if ze dog is not to you, you give him back to me, hein?'
+
+'I tell you,' I said, 'that poodle belongs to the gentleman over there.' And I pointed to the Colonel, seeing that it was best now to bring him into the affair without delay.
+
+'You are wrong,' he said doggedly; 'ze poodle is my poodle! And I was direct to you -- it is your name on ze carte!' And he presented me with that fatal card which I had been foolish enough to give to Blagg as a proof of my identity. I saw it all now; the old villain had betrayed me, and to earn a double reward had put the real owner on my track.
+
+I decided to call the Colonel at once, and attempt to brazen it out with the help of his sincere belief in the dog.
+
+'Eh, what's that; what's it all about?' said the Colonel, bustling up, followed at intervals by the others.
+
+The Frenchman raised his hat again. 'I do not vant to make a trouble,' he began, 'but zere is leetle mistake. My word of honour, sare, I see my own poodle in your garden. Ven I appeal to zis gentilman to restore 'im he reffer me to you.'
+
+'You must allow me to know my own dog, sir,' said the Colonel. 'Why, I've had him from a pup. Bingo, old boy, you know your master, don't you?'
+
+But the brute ignored him altogether, and began to leap wildly at the hedge, in frantic efforts to join the Frenchman. It needed no Solomon to decide his ownership!
+
+'I tell you, you 'ave got ze wrong poodle -- it is my own dog, my Azor! He remember me well, you see? I lose him it is three, four days.... I see a nottice zat he is found, and ven I go to ze address zey tell me, "Oh, he is reclaim, he is gone wiz a strangaire who has advertise." Zey show me ze placard, I follow 'ere, and ven I arrive, I see my poodle in ze garden before me!'
+
+'But look here,' said the Colonel, impatiently; 'it's all very well to say that, but how can you prove it? I give you my word that the dog belongs to me! You must prove your claim, eh, Travers?'
+
+'Yes,' said Travers, judicially, 'mere assertion is no proof: it's oath against oath, at present.'
+
+'Attend an instant -- your poodle was he 'ighly train, had he some talents -- a dog viz tricks, eh?'
+
+'No, he's not,' said the Colonel; 'I don't like to see dogs taught to play the fool -- there's none of that nonsense about him, sir!'
+
+'Ah, remark him well, then. Azor, mon chou, danse donc un peu!'
+
+And on the foreigner's whistling a lively air, that infernal poodle rose on his hind legs and danced solemnly about half-way round the garden! We inside followed his movements with dismay. 'Why, dash it all!' cried the disgusted Colonel, 'he's dancing along like a d -- -- d mountebank! But it's my Bingo for all that!'
+
+'You are not convince? You shall see more. Azor, ici! Pour Beesmarck, Azor!' (the poodle barked ferociously). 'Pour Gambetta!' (he wagged his tail and began to leap with joy). 'Meurs pour la Patrie!' -- and the too-accomplished animal rolled over as if killed in battle!
+
+'Where could Bingo have picked up so much French!' cried Lilian, incredulously.
+
+'Or so much French history?' added that serpent Travers.
+
+'Shall I command 'im to jomp, or reverse 'imself?' inquired the obliging Frenchman.
+
+'We've seen that, thank you,' said the Colonel, gloomily. 'Upon my word, I don't know what to think. It can't be that that's not my Bingo after all -- I'll never believe it!'
+
+I tried a last desperate stroke. 'Will you come round to the front?' I said to the Frenchman; 'I'll let you in, and we can discuss the matter quietly.' Then, as we walked back together, I asked him eagerly what he would take to abandon his claims and let the Colonel think the poodle was his after all.
+
+He was furious -- he considered himself insulted; with great emotion he informed me that the dog was the pride of his life (it seems to be the mission of black poodles to serve as domestic comforts of this priceless kind!), that he would not part with him for twice his weight in gold.
+
+'Figure,' he began, as we joined the others, 'zat zis gentilman 'ere 'as offer me money for ze dog! He agrees zat it is to me, you see? Ver well zen, zere is no more to be said!'
+
+'Why, Weatherhead, have you lost faith too, then?' said the Colonel.
+
+I saw that it was no good -- all I wanted now was to get out of it creditably and get rid of the Frenchman. 'I'm sorry to say,' I replied, 'that I'm afraid I've been deceived by the extraordinary likeness. I don't think, on reflection, that that is Bingo!'
+
+'What do you think, Travers?' asked the Colonel.
+
+'Well, since you ask me,' said Travers, with quite unnecessary dryness, 'I never did think so.'
+
+'Nor I,' said the Colonel; 'I thought from the first that was never my Bingo. Why, Bingo would make two of that beast!'
+
+And Lilian and her aunt both protested that they had had their doubts from the first.
+
+'Zen you pairmeet zat I remove 'im?' said the Frenchman.
+
+'Certainly' said the Colonel; and after some apologies on our part for the mistake, he went off in triumph, with the detestable poodle frisking after him.
+
+When he had gone the Colonel laid his hand kindly on my shoulder. 'Don't look so cut up about it, my boy,' he said; 'you did your best -- there was a sort of likeness, to any one who didn't know Bingo as we did.'
+
+Just then the Frenchman again appeared at the hedge. 'A thousand pardons,' he said, 'but I find zis upon my dog -- it is not to me. Suffer me to restore it viz many compliments.'
+
+It was Bingo's collar. Travers took it from his hand and brought it to us.
+
+'This was on the dog when you stopped that fellow, didn't you say?' he asked me.
+
+One more lie -- and I was so-weary of falsehood! 'Y-yes,' I said reluctantly, that was so.'
+
+'Very extraordinary,' said Travers; 'that's the wrong poodle beyond a doubt, but when he's found, he's wearing the right dog's collar! Now how do you account for that?'
+
+'My good fellow,' I said impatiently, 'I'm not in the witness-box. I can't account for it. It -- it's a mere coincidence!'
+
+'But look here, my dear Weatherhead,' argued Travers (whether in good faith or not I never could quite make out), 'don't you see what a tremendously important link it is? Here's a dog who (as I understand the facts) had a silver collar, with his name engraved on it, round his neck at the time he was lost. Here's that identical collar turning up soon afterwards round the neck of a totally different dog! We must follow this up; we must get at the bottom of it somehow! With a clue like this, we're sure to find out, either the dog himself, or what's become of him! Just try to recollect exactly what happened, there's a good fellow. This is just the sort of thing I like!'
+
+It was the sort of thing I did not enjoy at all. 'You must excuse me to-night, Travers,' I said uncomfortably; 'you see, just now it's rather a sore subject for me -- and I'm not feeling very well!' I was grateful just then for a reassuring glance of pity and confidence from Lilian's sweet eyes which revived my drooping spirits for the moment.
+
+'Yes, we'll go into it to-morrow, Travers,' said the Colonel; 'and then -- hullo, why, there's that confounded Frenchman again!'
+
+It was indeed; he came prancing back delicately, with a malicious enjoyment on his wrinkled face. 'Once more I return to apologise,' he said. 'My poodle 'as permit 'imself ze grave indiscretion to make a very big 'ole at ze bottom of ze garden!'
+
+I assured him that it was of no consequence. 'Perhaps,' he replied, looking steadily at me through his keen half-shut eyes, 'you vill not say zat ven you regard ze 'ole. And you others, I spik to you: somtimes von loses a somzing vich is qvite near all ze time. It is ver droll, eh? my vord, ha, ha, ha!' And he ambled off, with an aggressively fiendish laugh that chilled my blood.
+
+'What the dooce did he mean by that, eh?' said the Colonel, blankly.
+
+'Don't know,' said Travers; 'suppose we go and inspect the hole?'
+
+But before that I had contrived to draw near it myself, in deadly fear lest the Frenchman's last words had contained some innuendo which I had not understood.
+
+It was light enough still for me to see something, at the unexpected horror of which I very nearly fainted.
+
+That thrice accursed poodle which I had been insane enough to attempt to foist upon the Colonel must, it seems, have buried his supper the night before very near the spot in which I had laid Bingo, and in his attempts to exhume his bone had brought the remains of my victim to the surface!
+
+There the corpse lay, on the very top of the excavations. Time had not, of course, improved its appearance, which was ghastly in the extreme, but still plainly recognisable by the eye of affection.
+
+'It's a very ordinary hole,' I gasped, putting myself before it and trying to turn them back. 'Nothing in it -- nothing at all!'
+
+'Except one Algernon Weatherhead, Esq., eh?' whispered Travers jocosely in my ear.
+
+'No, but,' persisted the Colonel, advancing, 'look here! Has the dog damaged any of your shrubs?'
+
+'No, no!' I cried piteously, 'quite the reverse. Let's all go indoors now; it's getting so cold!'
+
+'See, there is a shrub or something uprooted!' said the Colonel, still coming nearer that fatal hole. 'Why, hullo, look there! What's that?'
+
+Lilian, who was by his side, gave a slight scream. 'Uncle,' she cried, 'it looks like -- like Bingo!'
+
+The Colonel turned suddenly upon me. 'Do you hear?' he demanded, in a choked voice. 'You hear what she says? Can't you speak out? Is that our Bingo?'
+
+I gave it up at last; I only longed to be allowed to crawl away under something! 'Yes,' I said in a dull whisper, as I sat down heavily on a garden seat, 'yes ... that's Bingo ... misfortune ... shoot him ... quite an accident!'
+
+There was a terrible explosion after that; they saw at last how I had deceived them, and put the very worst construction upon everything. Even now I writhe impotently at times, and my cheeks smart and tingle with humiliation, as I recall that scene -- the Colonel's very plain speaking, Lilian's passionate reproaches and contempt, and her aunt's speechless prostration of disappointment.
+
+I made no attempt to defend myself; I was not perhaps the complete villain they deemed me, but I felt dully that no doubt it all served me perfectly right.
+
+Still I do not think I am under any obligation to put their remarks down in black and white here.
+
+Travers had vanished at the first opportunity -- whether out of delicacy, or the fear of breaking out into unseasonable mirth, I cannot say; and shortly afterwards the others came to where I sat silent with bowed head, and bade me a stern and final farewell.
+
+And then, as the last gleam of Lilian's white dress vanished down the garden path, I laid my head down on the table amongst the coffee-cups and cried like a beaten child.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I got leave as soon as I could and went abroad. The morning after my return I noticed, while shaving, that there was a small square marble tablet placed against the wall of the Colonel's garden. I got my opera-glass and read -- and pleasant reading it was -- the following inscription: -- 
+
+IN AFFECTIONATE MEMORY OF B I N G O, SECRETLY AND CRUELLY PUT TO DEATH, IN COLD BLOOD; BY A NEIGHBOUR AND FRIEND. JUNE, 1881
+
+If this explanation of mine ever reaches my neighbours' eyes, I humbly hope they will have the humanity either to take away or tone down that tablet. They cannot conceive what I suffer, when curious visitors insist, as they do every day, in spelling out the words from our windows, and asking me countless questions about them!
+
+Sometimes I meet the Curries about the village, and, as they pass me with averted heads, I feel myself growing crimson. Travers is almost always with Lilian now. He has given her a dog -- a fox-terrier -- and they take ostentatiously elaborate precautions to keep it out of my garden.
+
+I should like to assure them here that they need not be under any alarm. I have shot one dog.
+
+THE STORY OF A SUGAR PRINCE.
+
+A TALE FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: O]
+
+Of course he may have been really a fairy prince, and I should be sorry to contradict any one who chose to say so. For he was only about three inches high, he had rose-pink cheeks and bright yellow curling locks, he wore a doublet and hose which fitted him perfectly, and a little cap and feather, all of delicately contrasted shades of blue -- and this does seem a fair description of a fairy prince.
+
+But then he was painted -- very cleverly -- but still only painted, on a slab of prepared sugar, and his back was a plain white blank; while the regular fairies all have more than one side to them, and I am obliged to say that I never before happened to come across a real fairy prince who was nothing but paint and sugar.
+
+For all that he may, as I said before, have been a fairy prince, and whether he was or not does not matter in the least -- for he at any rate quite believed he was one.
+
+As yet there had been very little romance or enchantment in his life, which, as far as he could remember, had all been spent in a long shop, full of sweet and subtle scents, where the walls were lined with looking-glass and fitted with shelves on which stood rows of glass jars, containing pastilles and jujubes of every colour, shape, and flavour in the world -- a shop where, in summer, a strange machine for making cooling drinks gurgled and sputtered all day long, and in winter, the large plate-glass windows were filled with boxes made of painted silk from Paris, so charmingly expensive and useless that rich people bought them eagerly to give to one another.
+
+The prince generally lay on one of the counters between two beds of sugar roses and violets in a glass case, on either side of which stood a figure of highly coloured plaster.
+
+One was a major of some unknown regiment; he had an immense head, with goggling eyes and a very red complexion, and this head would unscrew so that he could be filled with comfits, which, though it hurt him fearfully every time this was done, he was proud of, because it always astonished people.
+
+The other figure was an old brown gipsy woman in a red cloak and a striped petticoat, with a head which, although it wouldn't take off, was always nodding and grinning mysteriously from morning to night.
+
+It was to her that the prince (for we shall have to call him 'the prince,' as I don't know his other name -- if he ever had one) owed all his notions of Fairyland and his high birth.
+
+'You let the old gipsy alone for knowing a prince when she sees one,' she would say, nodding at him with encouragement. 'They've kept you out of your rights all this time; but wait a while, and see if one of these clumsy giants that are always bustling in and out doesn't help you; you'll be restored to your kingdom, never fear!'
+
+But the major used to get angry at her prophecies: 'It's all nonsense,' he used to say, 'the boy's no more a prince than I am, and he'll never be noticed by anybody, unless he learns to unscrew his head and hold comfits -- like a soldier and a gentleman!'
+
+However, the prince believed the gipsy, and every morning, as the shutters were taken down, and grey mist, brilliant sunshine, or brown fog stole into the close shop, he wondered whether the day had come which would see his restoration to his kingdom.
+
+And at last the day really came; some one who had been buying sugar violets and roses noticed the prince in the middle of them and bought him too, to his immense delight. 'What did the old gipsy tell you, eh?' said the old woman, wagging her head wisely; 'you see, it has all come true!'
+
+Even the major was convinced now, for, before the prince had been packed up, he whispered to him that if at any time he wanted a commander-in-chief, why, he knew where to send for him. 'Yes, I will remember,' said the prince; 'and you,' he added to the gipsy, 'you shall be my prime minister!' -- for he was so ignorant of politics that he actually thought an old woman could be prime minister.
+
+And then, before he could finish saying good-bye and hearing their congratulations, he was covered with several wrappers of white paper and plunged into complete darkness, which he did not mind at all, he was so happy.
+
+After that he remembered no more until he was unwrapped and placed upright on the top of a dazzling white dome which stood in the very centre of a long plain, where a host of the strangest forms were scattered about in bewildering confusion.
+
+On each side of him tall twisted trunks of sparkling glass and silver sprang high into the air, and from their tops the cool green branches swayed gently down, while round their bases velvet-petalled flowers bloomed in a bed of soft moss.
+
+Farther away, an exquisite temple, made of a sort of delicate gold-coloured crystal, rose out of the crowd of gorgeous things that surrounded it, and this crowd, as the prince's eyes became accustomed to the splendour, gradually separated itself into various forms of loveliness.
+
+He saw high curiously moulded masses of transparent amber, within which ruby and emerald gems glowed dimly; mounds of rose-flushed snow, and blocks of creamy marble; and in the space between these were huge platforms of silver and porcelain, on which were piled heaps of treasures that he knew must be priceless, though he could not guess what they were all used for.
+
+But amidst all these were certain grim shapes; some seemed to be the carcases of fearful beasts, whose heads had all been struck off, but who had evidently shown such courage in death that they had earned the respect of the brave hunters who had vanquished them -- for rosettes had been pinned on their rough breasts, and their stiffened limbs were bound together by bright-hued ribbons.
+
+Then there was one monstrous head of some brute larger still, which could not have been quite killed even then, for its tawny eyes were still glaring with fury -- the prince could easily have stood upright between its grinning jaws if he had wanted to do so; but he had no intention of doing any such thing, for though he was quite as brave as most fairy princes he was not foolhardy.
+
+And there were big enchanted castles with no doors nor windows in them, and inhabited by restless monsters -- dragons most likely -- who had thrust their scaly black claws through the roofs.
+
+Perhaps he was a little frightened by some of the ugliest shapes at first, but he soon grew used to them, and had no room for any other feelings than pride and joy. For this was Fairyland at last, stranger and more beautiful than anything he could have dreamed of -- he had come into his kingdom!
+
+He was going to live in that lacework palace; those dragons would come fawning out of their lairs presently, and do homage to him; these formidable dead creatures had been slain to do him honour; and he was the rightful owner of all these treasures of gold, and silk, and gems.
+
+He must not forget, he thought, that he owed it all to the good-natured giants who had brought him here: no, when they came in -- as of course they would -- to pay their respects, he would thank them graciously and reward them liberally out of his new wealth.
+
+There was a silver giraffe, stiff and old-fashioned, under a palm-tree hard by, which must have guessed from the prince's proud gay smile that he was deceiving himself and had no idea of his real position.
+
+But the giraffe did not make any attempt to warn him, either because it had seen so many things all round it consumed in its day that the selfish fear that it too would be cut up and handed round some evening kept it preoccupied and silent, or else because, being only electro-plated and hollow inside, it had no feelings of any kind.
+
+By-and-by the doors opened, and delicious bursts of music floated into the room, mingled with scraps of conversation and ripples of fresh laughter; servants came noiselessly in and increased the glare of a kind of sun that hung above the plain, and a host of smaller lights suddenly started up and shone softly through shades of silk and paper.
+
+The music stopped, the laughter and voices grew louder and came nearer, there was the sound of approaching feet -- and then a whole army of mortals surrounded the prince's kingdom.
+
+They were a far smaller and finer race than the giants he had seen hitherto, with pretty fresh complexions, and wearing, some of them, soft shimmering dresses that he thought only fairies ever wore. After a little confusion, they ranged themselves in one long line completely round the plain; the taller beings glided softly about behind, and the prince prepared himself to receive their congratulations with proper dignity and modesty.
+
+But these giants certainly had very odd ways of showing their loyalty, for they saluted him with a clinking and clattering so deafening that they would have drowned the noise of a million gnomes forging fairy armour, while every now and then came a loud report, after which a golden sparkling cascade fell creaming and bubbling from somewhere above into the crystal reservoirs prepared for it.
+
+It was all very gratifying, no doubt -- and yet, though they all pretended to be honouring him, no one seemed to pay him any more particular attention; he thought perhaps they might be feeling abashed in his presence, and that he must manage to reassure them.
+
+But while he was thinking how he could best do this, he began to be aware that along the whole of that glittering plain things were being done without his permission which were scandalous and insulting -- he saw the grisly carcases cut swiftly into pieces with flashing blades, or torn limb from limb deliberately; all the dragons were attacked and overpowered, and hauled out unresisting from their strongholds; even the fierce head was gashed hideously behind the ears!
+
+He tried to speak and ask them what they meant by such audacity, but he could not make them hear as he could the major and the old gipsy; so he was obliged to look on while one by one the trophies dedicated to his glory were changed to shapeless heaps of ruin.
+
+And, unless he was mistaken, the greater part of them were actually disappearing from sight altogether! It seemed impossible, for where could they all go to? and yet nothing now remained of the huge carcases but a meagre framework of bone, hanging together by shreds of skin; the strong castles were roofless walls with gaping breaches in them; and could it be that the more attractive objects were beginning to melt away in the same mysterious manner? Was it enchantment, or how -- how on earth did they manage to do it?
+
+He was no happier when he found out -- for though, of course, to us eating is quite an ordinary everyday affair, only think what a shock the first sight of it must have been to a delicate fairy prince, whose mouth was simply a cherry-coloured curve, and not made to open on any terms!
+
+He saw all the treasures he had looked upon as his very own being lifted to a long line of mouths of all sizes and shapes; the mouths opened to various widths, and -- the treasures vanished, he could not tell how or where.
+
+The mellow amber tottered and quivered for a while and was gone; even the solid creamy marble was hacked in pieces and absorbed; nothing, however beautiful or fantastic, escaped instant annihilation between those terrible bars of scarlet and flashing ivory.
+
+Could this be Fairyland, this plain where all things beautiful were doomed -- or had they brought him back to his kingdom only to make this cruel fun of him, and destroy his riches one by one before his eyes?
+
+But before he could find any answers to these sad questions he chanced to look straight in front of him, and there he saw a face which made his little sugar heart almost melt within him, with a curious feeling, half pleasure, half pain, that was quite new to him.
+
+It was a girl's face, of course, and the prince had not looked at her very long before he forgot all about his kingdom.
+
+He was relieved to see that she at least was too generous to join in the work of destruction that was going on all around her -- indeed, she seemed to dislike it as much as he did himself, for only a little of the tinted snow passed her soft lips.
+
+Now and then she laughed a little silvery laugh, and shook out her rippling gold-brown hair at something the being next to her said -- a great boy-mortal, with a red face, bold eyes, and grasping brown hands, which were fatal to everything within their range.
+
+How the prince did hate that boy! -- he found to his joy that he could understand what they said, and began to listen jealously to their conversation.
+
+'I say,' the boy (whose name, it seemed, was Bertie) was saying, as he received a plateful of floating fragments of the lacework palace, 'you aren't eating anything, Mabel. Don't you care about suppers? I do.'
+
+'I'm not hungry,' she said, evidently feeling this a distinction; 'I've been out so much this fortnight.'
+
+'How jolly!' he observed, 'I only wish I had. But I say,' he added confidentially, 'won't they make you take a grey powder soon? They would me.'
+
+'I'm never made to take anything at all nasty,' she said -- and the prince was indignant that any one should have dared to think otherwise.
+
+'I suppose,' continued the boy, 'you didn't manage to get any of that cake the conjurer made in Uncle John's hat, did you?'
+
+'No, indeed,' she said, and made a little face; 'I don't think I should like cake that came out of anybody's hat!'
+
+'It was very decent cake,' he said; 'I got a lot of it. I was afraid it might spoil my appetite for supper -- but it hasn't.'
+
+'What a very greedy boy you are, Bertie,' she remarked; 'I suppose you could eat anything?'
+
+'At home I think I could, pretty nearly,' he said, with a proud confidence, 'but not at old Tokoe's, I can't. Tokoe's is where I go to school, you know. I can't stand the resurrection-pie on Saturdays -- all the week they save up the bones and rags and things, and when it comes up -- -- '
+
+'I don't want to hear,' she interrupted; 'you talk about nothing but horrid things to eat, and it isn't a bit interesting.'
+
+Bertie allowed himself a brief interval for refreshment unalloyed by conversation, after which he began again: 'Mabel, if they have dancing after supper, dance with me.'
+
+'Are you sure you know how to dance?' she inquired rather fastidiously.
+
+'Oh, I can get through all right,' he replied. 'I've learnt. It's not harder than drilling. I can dance the Highland Schottische and the Swedish dance, any-way.'
+
+'Any one can dance those. I don't call that dancing,' she said.
+
+'Well, but try me once, Mabel; say you will,' said he.
+
+'I don't believe they will have dancing,' she said; 'there are so many very young children here and they get in the way so. But I hope there won't be any more games -- games are stupid.'
+
+'Only to girls,' said Bertie; 'girls never care about any fun.'
+
+'Not your kind of fun,' she said, a little vaguely. 'I don't mind hide-and-seek in a nice old house with long passages and dark corners and secret panels -- and ghosts even -- that's jolly; but I don't care much about running round and round a row of silly chairs, trying to sit down when the music stops and keep other people out -- I call it rude.'
+
+'You didn't seem to think it so rude just now,' he retorted; 'you were laughing quite as much as any one; and I saw you push young Bobby Meekin off the last chair of all, and sit on it yourself, anyhow.'
+
+'Bertie, you didn't,' she cried, flushing angrily.
+
+'I did though.'
+
+'But I tell you I didn't!
+
+'And I say you did!'
+
+'If you will go on saying I did, when I'm quite sure I never did anything of the sort,' she said, 'please don't speak to me again; I shan't answer if you do. And I think you're a particularly ill-bred boy -- not polite, like my brothers.'
+
+'Your brothers are every bit as rude as I am. If they aren't, they're milksops -- I should be sorry to be a milksop.'
+
+'My brothers are not milksops -- they could fight you!' she cried, with a little defiant ring in her voice that the prince thought perfectly charming.
+
+'As if a girl knew anything about fighting,' said Bertie; 'why, I could fight your brothers all stuck in a row!'
+
+'That you couldn't,' from Mabel, and 'I could then, so now!' from Bertie, until at last Mabel refused to answer any more of Bertie's taunts, as they grew decidedly offensive; and, finding that she took refuge in disdainful silence, he consumed tart after tart with gloomy determination.
+
+And then all at once, Mabel, having nothing to do, chanced to look across to the white dome on which the prince was standing, and she opened her beautiful grey eyes with a pleased surprise as she saw him.
+
+All this time the prince had been falling deeper and deeper in love with her; at first he had felt almost certain that she was a princess and his destined bride; he was rather small for her, certainly, though he did not know how very much smaller he was; but Fairyland, he had always been told, was full of resources -- he could easily be filled out to her size, or, better still, she might be brought down to his.
+
+But he had begun to give up these wild fancies already, and even to fear that she would go away without having once noticed him; and now she was looking at him as if she found him pleasant to look at, as if she would like to know him.
+
+At last, evidently after some struggle, she turned to the offending Bertie, and spoke his name softly; but Bertie could not give up the luxury of sulking with her all at once, and so he looked another way.
+
+'Is it Pax, Bertie?' she asked. (She had not had brothers for nothing.)
+
+'No, it isn't,' said Bertie.
+
+'Oh, you want to sulk? I thought only girls sulked,' she said; 'but it doesn't matter, I only wanted to tell you something.'
+
+His curiosity was too much for his dignity. 'Well -- what?' he asked, gruffly enough.
+
+'Only,' she said, 'that I've been thinking over things, and I dare say you could fight my brothers -- only not all together and I'm not sure that Charlie wouldn't beat you.'
+
+'Charlie! I could settle him in five minutes,' muttered Bertie, only half appeased.
+
+'Oh, not in five, Bertie,' cried Mabel, 'ten, perhaps; but you'd never want to, would you, when he's my brother? And now,' she added, 'we're friends again, aren't we, Bertie?'
+
+He was a cynic in his way -- 'I see,' he said, 'you want something out of me; you should have thought of that before you quarrelled, you know!'
+
+Mabel contracted her eyebrows and bit her lip for a moment, then she said meekly -- 
+
+'I know I should, Bertie; but I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind doing this for me. I can ask the boy on my other side -- he's a stupid-looking boy, and I don't care about knowing him -- still, if you won't do it -- -- '
+
+'Oh, well, I don't mind,' he said, softened at once. 'What is it you want?'
+
+'Bertie,' she whispered breathlessly, 'you'll be quite a nice boy if you'll only get me that dear little sugar prince off the cake there; you can reach him better than I can, and -- and I don't quite like to -- only, be quick, or some one else will get him first.'
+
+And in another second the enraptured prince found himself lying on her plate!
+
+'Isn't he lovely?' she cried.
+
+'Not bad,' said Bertie; 'give us a bit -- I got him for you, you know.'
+
+'Give you a bit!' she cried, with the keenest horror and disgust. 'Bertie! you don't really think I wanted him to -- to eat.'
+
+'Oh, the paint doesn't matter,' he said; 'I've eaten lots of them.'
+
+'You really are too horrid,' she said; 'all you think about is eating things. I can't bear greedy boys. I won't have anything to do with you any more; after this we'll be perfect strangers.'
+
+He stared helplessly at her; he had made friends and done all she asked of him, and, just because he begged for a share in the spoil, she had treated him like this! It was too bad of her -- it served him right for bothering about a girl.
+
+He would have told her what he thought about it, only just then there was a general rising. The prince was carried tenderly upstairs, entrusted with many cautions to a trim maid, and laid to rest wrapped in a soft lace handkerchief upon a dressing-table, to dream of the new life in store for him to the accompaniment of faintly heard music and laughter from below.
+
+He had given up all his old ideas of recovering his kingdom and marrying a princess -- very likely he might not be a fairy prince after all, and he felt now that he did not very much care if he wasn't.
+
+He was going to be Mabel's for evermore, and that was worth all Fairyland to him. How bewitching her anger had been when Bertie suspected her of wanting the prince for her own eating. (The prince had already found out that eating meant the way in which these ruthless mortals made everything beautiful pass away between their sharp teeth.)
+
+She had pitied and protected him; might she not some day come to love him? If he had only known what a little sugar fool he was making of himself, I think he would certainly have dissolved into syrup for very shame.
+
+Mabel came up to fetch him at last; they had fastened something white and fleecy round her head and shoulders, and her face was flushed and her eyes seemed a darker grey as she took him out of the handkerchief, with a cry of delight at finding him quite safe, and hurried downstairs with him.
+
+While she was waiting in the hall for her carriage, the prince heard the last of Bertie; he came up to her and whispered spitefully, 'Well, you've kept your word, you've not looked at me since supper, all because I thought you meant to eat that sugar thing off the cake! Now I just tell you this -- you needn't pretend you don't like sweets -- I wouldn't give much for that figure's lasting a week, now!'
+
+She only glanced at him with calm disdain, and passed on under the awning to her carriage, where her brothers were waiting for her, and Bertie was left with a recollection that would make his first fortnight under old Tokoe's roof even bitterer than usual to him.
+
+What a deliciously dreamy drive home that was for the prince; he lay couched on Mabel's soft palm, thinking how cool and satiny it was, and how different from the hot coarse hands which had touched him hitherto.
+
+She said nothing to her brothers, who were curled up, grey indistinct forms, opposite; she sat quietly at the side of the servant who had come to fetch them, and now and then in the faint light the prince could see her smiling with half-shut sleepy eyes at some pleasant recollection.
+
+If that drive could only have gone on for ever! but it came to an end soon, very soon.
+
+A little later his tired little protectress placed him where she could see him when first she awoke the next day, and all that night the prince stood on guard upon the high mantelpiece in the night nursery, thinking of the kiss, half-childish and half-playful, she had given him just before she left him at his post.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The next morning Mabel woke up tired, and, if it must be confessed, a little cross; but the prince thought she looked lovelier than even on the night before, in her plain dark dress and fresh white pinafore and crossbands.
+
+She took him down with her to breakfast, and stationed him near her plate -- and then he made a discovery.
+
+She, too, could make the solid things around her vanish in the very way of which he thought she disapproved so strongly!
+
+It was done, as she seemed to do everything, very daintily and prettily -- but still the things did disappear, somehow, and it was a shock.
+
+She called the attention of her governess -- who was a pale lady, with a very prominent forehead and round spectacles -- to the prince's good looks, and the governess admitted that he was pretty, but cautioned Mabel not to eat him, as these highly-coloured confections invariably contained deleterious matter, and were therefore unwholesome.
+
+'Oh,' said Mabel, defending her favourite with great animation, 'but not this one, Miss Pringle. Because I heard Mrs. Goodchild tell somebody last night that she was always so careful to get only sweets painted with "pure vegetable colours," she called it. But that wouldn't matter -- for of course I shall never want to eat this little man!'
+
+'Oh, of course not,' said the governess, with a smile that struck the prince as being unpleasant -- though he did not know exactly why, and he was glad to forget it in watching the play of Mabel's pretty restless fingers on the table-cloth.
+
+By-and-by the nurse came in, carrying something which he had never seen anything at all like before, and which frightened him very much. It was called as he soon found, a 'Baby,' and it goggled round it with glassy, meaningless eyes, and clucked fearfully somewhere deep down in its throat, while it stretched out feeble little wrinkled hands, exactly like yellow starfish.
+
+'There, there, then!' said the nurse (which seems to be the right thing to say to a baby). 'See, Miss Mabel, he's asking for that to play with.'
+
+Now that happened to be the sugar prince.
+
+Mabel seemed completely in the power of this monster, for she dared not refuse it anything; she crossed almost timidly to it now, and laid the prince in one of its starfish, only entreating that nurse would not allow it to put him in its mouth.
+
+But the baby did not try to do this; its vacant countenance only creased into an idiotic grin, as it began to take a great deal of notice of him; and its way of taking notice was to shake the prince violently up and down, till he was quite giddy.
+
+After doing this several times, it ducked him quite suddenly down, head-foremost, into the nearest cup of tea.
+
+The poor prince felt as if he were all softening and crumbling away into nothing, but it was only some of the paint coming off; and before he could be ducked a second time, Mabel, with a cry of dismay, rescued him from the indignant baby, which howled in a dreadful manner.
+
+She dried him tenderly on her handkerchief, and then, as she saw the result, suddenly began to weep inconsolably herself. 'Oh, see what Baby's done!' she gasped between her sobs; 'all his lovely complexion ruined, spoilt ... I wish somebody would just spoil Baby's face for him, and see how he likes it.... If he isn't slapped at once -- I'll never love him again!'
+
+But nobody slapped the baby -- it was soothed; and, besides, all the slaps hand could bestow would not bring back the prince's lost beauty.
+
+His face was all the colours of the rainbow now; the yellow of his curls had run into his forehead, his brown eyes were smudged across his nose, and his cherry lips smeared upon his cheeks, while all the blue of his doublet had spread up to his chin.
+
+He knew from what they were all saying that this had happened to him, but he did not mind it much, except at first; he had never been vain of his beauty, and it was delightful to hear Mabel's little tender laments over his misfortune; so long as she cared for him as he was -- what did anything else matter?
+
+In the schoolroom that morning he leaned against her writing-desk, and watched her turning fat books lazily over and inking her fair little hands, until she shut them all up with an impatient bang and yawned.
+
+Why was it that at that precise moment the prince began to feel uncomfortable?
+
+'Is it near dinner-time, Miss Pringle?' she asked. 'I'm so awfully hungry!'
+
+The governess's watch showed an hour more to wait.
+
+'I wonder if Comfitt would give me some cake if I ran down and asked her!' said Mabel next.
+
+The governess thought Mabel had much better wait patiently till dinner-time without spoiling her appetite.
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Mabel; 'what a bore it is to be hungry too soon, isn't it?'
+
+Then she took the faded prince up and looked at him mournfully. 'What a shame of Baby!' she said; 'I wanted to keep him always to look at -- but I don't see how I can very well now, do you, Miss Pringle? Do they make these things only for ornament, should you think?'
+
+'I think it is time you finished that exercise,' was all the governess replied.
+
+'Oh, I've almost done it,' said Mabel, 'and I want just to ask this question (it comes under "general information," you know) -- aren't vegetable colours "dilly-whatever-it-is" colours I mean -- harmless? And Dr. Harley said vegetables were so very good for me. I wonder if I might just taste him.'
+
+Here the prince's dream ended: he saw it all at last -- how she had petted and praised him only while he was pleasant to look at; and now that was over -- he was nothing more to her than something to eat.
+
+Presently he was lifted gently between her slim finger and thumb to her lips, and touched caressingly by something red and moist and warm behind them. It was not unpleasant exactly, so far, but he knew that worse was coming, and longed for her to make haste and get it over.
+
+'Vanilla!' reported Mabel, 'that must be all right, Miss Pringle. Cook flavours corn-flour with it!'
+
+Miss Pringle shrugged her sharp shoulders: 'You must use your own judgment, my dear,' was all she said.
+
+And then -- I am sorry to have to tell what happened next, but this is a true story and I must go on -- then the prince saw Mabel's grey eyes looking at him from under their long lashes with interest for the last time, he saw two gleaming pearly rows closing upon him, he felt a sharp pang, of grief as well as pain, as they crunched him up into small pieces, and he slowly melted away and there was an end of him.
+
+There is a beautiful moral belonging to this story, but it is of no use to print it here, because it only applies to sugar princes -- until Mabel is quite grown up.
+
+THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON.
+
+[Illustration: It]
+
+It was ten years since Agamemnon, the mighty Argive monarch, had left his kingdom (somewhat suddenly, and after a stormy interview with the Queen, as those said who had the best opportunities of knowing), with the avowed intention of going to assist at the siege of Troy.
+
+He had never written once since, but so many reports of his personal daring and his terrible wounds had reached the palace that Clytemnestra would often observe, with a touch of annoyance, that, if not actually dead by that time, he must be nearly as full of holes as a fishing-net.
+
+So that she was scarcely surprised when they broke the intelligence to her one day that he really had gone at last, having fallen, fighting desperately, against the most fearful odds, upon the Trojan plain; and when, a little later, she formally announced to her faithful subjects her betrothal to Ægisthus, her youngest and favourite courtier, they were not surprised in their turn.
+
+They told one another, with ribald facetiousness, that they had rather expected something of the kind.
+
+They were celebrating their Queen's betrothal day with the wildest enthusiasm, for they were a simple affectionate people, and foresaw an impetus to local trade. It had been but a dull time for Argos during those weary ten years, and the city had become well-nigh deserted, as, one by one, all her bravest and her best had left her, to seek, as they poetically put it, 'a soldier's tomb.'
+
+Several married men, in whom no such patriotic enthusiasm had ever been previously suspected, found out that their country required their services, left their wives and their little ones, and started for the field of battle. There were many pushing Argive tradesmen, too, who abandoned their business and sought -- not ostentatiously, but with the self-effacement of true heroism -- the seat of war upon which their sovereign had been sitting so long; while the real extent of their devotion was seldom appreciated until long after their departure, when it was generally discovered that, in their eagerness, they had left their affairs in the greatest confusion.
+
+And very soon almost the only young men left were mild, unwarlike youths, who were respectable and wore spectacles, while the rest of the male population was composed of equal parts of prattling infants and doddering octogenarians.
+
+This was a melancholy state of things -- but then the absent ones wrote such capital letters home, containing such graphic descriptions of camp life and the fiercer excitements of night attacks and forlorn hopes, that the recipients ought to have been amply consoled.
+
+They were not; they only remarked that it seemed rather odd that the writers should so persistently forget to give their addresses, and that it was a singular circumstance that while each letter purported to come direct from the Grecian lines, every envelope somehow bore a different postmark. And often would the older married women (and their mothers too) wish with infinite pathos that they could only just get the missing ones home and talk to them a little -- that was all!
+
+But all anxiety was forgotten in the celebration of the betrothal, for the Argives were determined to do the thing really well. So in the principal streets they had erected triumphal arches, typifying the chief local manufactures, which were (as it is scarcely necessary to inform the scholar) soda-water and cane-bottomed chairs; and from these arches chairs and bottles were constantly dropping, like a gentle dew, upon the happy crowd which passed beneath. All the public fountains spouted a cheap dinner sherry like water -- 'very like water,' said some disaffected persons; householders were graciously invited to exhibit flags and illuminations at their own expense, and in the market-place a fowl was being roasted whole for the populace.
+
+All was gaiety, therefore, at sunset, when the citizens assembled in groups about the square in front of the palace, prepared to cheer the royal pair with enthusiasm when they deigned to show themselves upon the balcony.
+
+The well-meaning old gentlemen who formed the Chorus (for in those days every house of any position in society maintained a chorus, and even shabby-genteel families kept a semi-chorus in buttons) were twittering in a corner, prepared to come forth by-and-by with the ill-timed allusions, melancholy and depressing forebodings, and unnecessary advice, which were all that was expected of them, and the Mayor and Corporation were fussing about distractedly with a brass band and the inevitable address.
+
+All at once there was a stir in the crowd, and the eyes of everyone were strained towards a tall and swaying scaffold on the royal house-top, where a small black figure, outlined sharply against the saffron sky, could be seen gesticulating wildly?
+
+'Look at the watchman!' they whispered excitedly; 'what can be the matter with him?'
+
+Now before Agamemnon left he had had fires laid upon all the mountain tops in a straight line between Argos and Troy, arranging to light the pile at the Troy end of the chain when it should become necessary to let them know at home that they might expect him back shortly.
+
+The watchman had been put up on a scaffold to look out for the beacon, and had been there for years day and night, without being once allowed to quit his post -- even on his birthday. It was expected that Clytemnestra would have let him come down for good when she was informed of Agamemnon's death on such excellent authority, but she would not hear of such a thing. She knew people would think it very foolish and sentimental of her, she said, but to take the watchman down would seem so like giving up all hope! So she kept him up, a proof of her conjugal devotion which touched everyone -- except perhaps the watchman himself.
+
+Clytemnestra and Ægisthus, who had happened to come out while all this excitement was at its height, found themselves absolutely ignored. 'Not a single cap off -- not one solitary hurray,' cried the Queen with majestic anger. 'What have you been doing to make yourself so unpopular with my loyal Argives?' she demanded suspiciously.
+
+'I don't think it's anything to do with me, really,' protested Ægisthus, feebly. 'They're only looking the other way just now, and -- can't you see why?' he added suddenly, 'they've lit the beacon on the top of Arachnæus!'
+
+Clytemnestra looked, and started violently, as on the mountain-top in question a red tongue of flame shot up through the gathering dusk: 'What does it mean?' she whispered, clutching him convulsively by the arm.
+
+'Well,' said Ægisthus, 'it looks to me, do you know, rather as if your late lamented husband has changed his mind about dying, and is on his way to your arms.'
+
+'Then he is not dead!' exclaimed Clytemnestra. 'He is coming home. I shall look upon that face, hear that voice, press that hand once again! How excessively annoying!'
+
+'Confounded nuisance!' he agreed heartily, but his irritation sounded slightly overdone, somehow. 'Well, it's all over with the betrothal after this; don't you think it would be as well to get all the arches, and fireworks, and things out of the way? We shan't want them now, you know.'
+
+'Why not?' said the Queen; 'they will all do for him; he won't know. Ye gods!' she cried, stretching out her arms with a tragic groan. 'Must I, too, do for him?'
+
+'Any way,' said Ægisthus, with an attempted ease, 'you won't want me any longer, and so, if you will kindly excuse me, I -- I think I'll retire to some quiet spot whither I can drag myself with my broken heart and bleed to death, like a wounded deer, don't you know!'
+
+'You can do all that just as well here,' she replied. 'I wish you to stay. Who knows what may happen?' -- she added, with a sinister smile, 'We may be happy yet!'
+
+Clytemnestra's sinister smiles always made Ægisthus feel exactly as if something was disagreeing with him -- so he stayed.
+
+By this time the populace had also realised the turn affairs had taken, but they very sensibly determined that it was their plain duty to persevere with the merriment. They were, as has been mentioned before, a simple and affectionate people, and fond of their king; so, as his return would be even more beneficial to trade than the betrothal, they rejoiced on, and there was nothing in the least strained or hollow in their revelry.
+
+And presently there was a fresh stir in the crowd, and then a rumbling of wheels as the covered chariot from the station rolled, amidst faint cheering, up to the palace gates, and was saluted by the one aged sentinel who stood on guard.
+
+'It is Agamemnon,' gasped the Queen; 'he has come already -- he must not find me unprepared. I will go within.'
+
+She had just time to retire hastily, followed by Ægisthus, before a short stout man in faded regimentals and a cocked hat with a moulting plume descended from the vehicle.
+
+The Chorus, finding it left to them to do the honours, advanced in a row, singing the ode of welcome, which they had had in rehearsal ever since the first year of the war.
+
+'O King,' they chanted in their cracked old trebles, 'offspring of Atreus, and sacker of Troy!'
+
+'Will you kindly count the boxes?' interrupted the monarch, who hated sentiment; 'there should be four -- a tin cocked-hat box, two camel-hair trunks, and a carpet bag.'
+
+But a Greek chorus was not easily suppressed, and they broke out again all together, 'Nay, but with bursting hearts would we bid thee thrice hail!'
+
+'Once is ample, thank you,' said the King, with regal politeness; 'and I should be really distressed if any of you were to burst on my account. Has anybody such a thing as half a drachma about him?'
+
+He heard no more of the ode, and the Mayor thought it advisable to roll up his address and take his Corporation home.
+
+Agamemnon had succeeded in borrowing the drachma, and had just turned his back to pay the driver as Clytemnestra glided down the broad steps to the court-yard, and, striking an attitude, addressed nobody in particular in tones of rapturous joy.
+
+'O happy day!' she cried very loudly, 'on which my hero husband returns to me after a long absence, quite unexpectedly. Henceforth shall his helmet rust upon the hat-stand, and his spear repose innocuous amongst the umbrellas, and his breastplate shall he replace by a chest-protector; for a shield he shall have a sunshade, and instead of his sword he shall carry a spud. But now let me, as an exceptionally faithful wife, greet him before ye all with -- -- Agamemnon, will you have the goodness to tell me who that young person is in the chariot?' was her abrupt and somewhat lame conclusion.
+
+'Oh, there you are, eh?' said Agamemnon, turning round and presenting a forefinger. 'How de do, my love; how de do?' ('I shan't give you another obol!' he said to the driver, who seemed still unsatisfied.) 'So, you're quite well, eh?' he resumed to his wife; 'plenty to say for yourself as usual. Gad, I feel as if I hadn't been away a week -- till I look at you.... Well, we can't expect to be always young, can we? So you want to know my little friend here? Allow me to present her to you. One moment.'
+
+And bustling up to the chariot, he assisted from it a maiden with a pale face, great, wild, roving eyes, and hair of tawny gold, and led her back to his wife.
+
+'The Princess Cassandra of Troy -- my wife, Queen Clytemnestra. They tell me this young lady can prophesy very prettily, my dear,' he remarked.
+
+Clytemnestra bowed coldly, and said she was sure it would be vastly amusing. Did the Princess intend giving any public entertainments?
+
+'She is our visitor,' Agamemnon put in warningly; while Cassandra smiled satirically, and said nothing at all.
+
+Clytemnestra hoped she might be able to induce her to stay longer, a week was such a very short time.
+
+'She has kindly consented to stay on a little longer, my love,' said Agamemnon -- 'all her life,' in fact.'
+
+The Queen was charmed to hear it; it was so very nice and kind of her, particularly as strangers were apt to find the neighbourhood an unhealthy one.
+
+And as Ægisthus joined them just then, she presented him to the King, with the remark that he had been the most faithful and devoted of courtiers during the whole period of the King's absence; to which Agamemnon replied, with the slightest of scowls, that he was delighted to make the acquaintance of Mr. Ægisthus; and after that no one seemed to know exactly what to say for a minute or two.
+
+At last Ægisthus hazarded a supposition that the royal warrior had found it warm over at Troy.
+
+'It varied, sir,' said the monarch, uncomfortably; 'the climate varied. I used to get very warm fighting sometimes.'
+
+Ægisthus agreed that a battle must be hot work, and Clytemnestra suddenly exclaimed that her husband was wearing the very same dear shabby old uniform he had on when he went away.
+
+'The very same,' said Agamemnon, smiling. 'I wore it all through the campaign. Your true warrior is no dandy!'
+
+'We were given to understand you were wounded,' remarked Ægisthus.
+
+'Oh,' said the King, 'yes; I was considerably wounded -- all over the chest and arms. But what cared I?'
+
+'Exactly,' said Ægisthus; 'and, curiously enough, the weapons don't seem to have pierced your coat at all. I observe there are no patches.'
+
+'No,' the King replied; 'so you noticed that, eh? Well, the reason of that is that those fellows out there have a peculiar sort of way of cutting and slashing, so as to -- -- '
+
+And he explained this by some elaborate illustrations with his sheathed sword, until Ægisthus said that he thought he understood how it was done.
+
+But Clytemnestra suddenly, with a kitten-like girlishness that sat but ill upon her, pounced playfully upon the weapon. 'I want to see it drawn,' she cried; 'I want to look upon the keen flashing blade which has penetrated the inmost recesses of so many of our country's foes. Oh, it won't come out,' she added, as she attempted to pull it out of the scabbard; 'do make it come out!'
+
+The King tried, but the blade stuck half way, and what was visible of it seemed thickly coated with rust; but Agamemnon said it was gore, and his orderly must have forgotten to clean his accoutrements after the fall of Troy. He added that it was the effect of the sea air.
+
+'Troy really has fallen then?' asked Ægisthus. 'I suppose you stayed to see the thing out?'
+
+'I did, sir,' answered the monarch proudly; 'I sacked the most fashionable quarters myself. I expect my booty will be forwarded -- shortly. Didn't you know Troy was taken?' he asked suspiciously. 'Couldn't you see the beacon I lighted just before I started?'
+
+The courtier murmured that it was wonderful to find so long and tedious a journey accomplished in such capital time.
+
+'What do you mean by that? How do you know how long it took?' demanded Agamemnon.
+
+'Don't you see?' said Clytemnestra. 'Why, you say you had the fire lighted at Ida when you started; then, of course, they would see it directly over at Lemnos, and light theirs; and then at Athos, and then -- -- '
+
+'You are not a time-table, my love,' interrupted the monarch, coldly. 'I won't trouble you for all these details. Come to the point.'
+
+'The point is,' she explained sweetly, 'that we have only just seen the beacon flame arrive here at Arachnæus, after leaping from height to height across lake and plain; so that you, my dearest, must have made the distance with almost equal celerity!'
+
+'I came with the beacon,' said Agamemnon, coughing; 'perhaps that disposes of the difficulty?'
+
+'Perhaps,' said the Queen; 'I mean quite. And now,' she continued, after a rapid exchange of glances with Ægisthus, 'you will come indoors, and have a nice cup of coffee and a warm bath before you do anything else, won't you?'
+
+He almost thought he would, he said; fighting for ten long years without intermission was a dusty, tiring occupation, and he was accordingly about to enter, when his eye fell on the awnings and flags and the red stair carpet, which had been prepared for the betrothal festivities, and he frowned.
+
+'Now, my dear, this sort of thing is all very well, no doubt; but I don't care about it. I'm a plain, honest ruler of men, and I hate flummery and flattery -- particularly when it all comes out of my pocket! Why, you've laid down the drugget from the Throne-Room over all this gravel. Take it up directly; I decline to walk over it. Do you hear? This wasteful extravagance is positively sinful. Take it up!'
+
+Clytemnestra assured him earnestly that they had had no intention of annoying him with it -- which was literally true; and suggested meekly that for the King to stay out in the court-yard until all the decorations were removed might be a tedious and even a ridiculous proceeding. 'If,' she added, 'he was merely unwilling to spoil the drugget, he might easily remove his boots, which were extremely muddy -- for a monarch's.'
+
+'Well, well, my dear, be it so,' said the King; 'I did not intend to chide you. It is only that I have grown so accustomed to the frugal, hardy life of a camp, that I have imbibed a soldier's contempt for luxury.'
+
+And, removing his boots, he followed the Queen into the Palace, as she led the way with a baleful expression upon her dark and inscrutable face.
+
+As the pair passed up the steps and between the lofty pillars, the hounds howled from the royal kennels at the back of the Palace, and -- a stranger portent still -- a meteor shot suddenly through the growing gloom and burst in a rain of coloured stars above the house-top, while, shortly after, a staff fell from above upon the head of one of the Chorus -- and was shivered to fragments!
+
+* * * * *
+
+Ægisthus had strolled away under the colonnade, and Cassandra was left alone with the Chorus. She stood apart, mystic, moody, and impenetrable, letting down her flowing back hair.
+
+'You prophesy, do you not?' said the kind old men at length, wishing to make her feel at home; 'might we beg you to favour us with a prediction -- just a little one?'
+
+Cassandra made excuses at first, as was proper; she had a cold, and was feeling the effects of the journey. She was really not inspired just then, she protested, and besides, she had not touched a tripod for ages.
+
+But, upon being pressed, she gave way at last, after declaring with a little giggle that she was perfectly certain nobody would believe a single word she said.
+
+'I see before me,' she began, in a weird, sepulchral tone which she found it impossible to keep up for many sentences, 'a proud and stately pile -- but enter not. See ye yon ghoul among the chimney-pots, yon amphisboena in the back garden? And the scent of gore pervades it!'
+
+'It is no happy home that is thus described!' the Chorus threw in profesionally.
+
+'But the Finger of Fate is slowly unwound, and the Hand of Destiny steps in to pace the marble halls with heavy tramp. And know, old men, that the Inevitable is not wholly unconnected with the Probable!'
+
+At this even their politeness could not restrain a gesture of incredulity, but she heeded it not, and continued:
+
+'Who is this that I see next -- this regal warrior bounding over the blazing battlements in brazen panoply?'
+
+('That must be Agamemnon,' cried the Chorus; 'the despatches mentioned him bounding like that. Wonderful!')
+
+'I see him,' she resumed, 'pale and prostrate -- a prey to the pangs within him, scanning the billows from his storm-tossed ship. Now he has reached his native city. Hark! how they greet him! And, behold, a stately matron meets him with a honeyed smile, inviting him to enter. He yields. And then -- -- '
+
+Here Cassandra stopped, with the remark that that was all -- as there were limits even to the marvellous faculty of second-sight.
+
+The Chorus were not unimpressed, for they had never seen a prediction and its literal fulfilment in quite such close conjunction before, and their own attempts always came wrong; but although they were agreed that the prophecy was charming as far as it went, they began to feel slightly afraid of the prophetess, and were secretly relieved when Ægisthus happened to come up shortly afterwards with an offer to show her such places of interest as Argos boasted.
+
+But they were great authorities upon all points of etiquette and morality, and they all remarked (when she had gone) that she displayed an unbecoming readiness in accepting the escort of a courtier who had not been formally introduced to her. 'That may be the custom in Troy,' they said, wagging their beards, 'but if she means to behave like that here -- well!'
+
+And now the last gleam of the sunset had faded, and the stars straggled out in the pale green sky, whilst the Chorus walked up and down to keep warm, for the evening was growing chilly.
+
+Suddenly a loud cry broke the silence -- a scream as of a strong man in mortal agony! It struck all of them that the voice was uncommonly like Agamemnon's, but none liked to say so, and they only observed with a forced composure that really the cats were becoming quite a nuisance.
+
+The cry came again, louder this time, and more distinct; it seemed to come from the direction of the royal bath-room. 'Hi, here, somebody -- help! They've turned on the hot water, and I can't turn it off again!'
+
+After this there could be no possible doubt that there was something the matter far more serious than cats. Agamemnon, the king of men, was apparently in difficulties, and it was only too probable that this was Clytemnestra's fell work.
+
+They all ran about and fell over one another in the general flurry and confusion, and then as they recovered their presence of mind they began to consult upon the best course to pursue under the circumstances. Some were of opinion that it would not be a quite unpardonable breach of court etiquette if they were to rush into the bath-room and pull the royal sufferer out; others, more cautious, asked for precedents in a case of such delicacy, and they almost quarrelled, until the wisest of them all reminded his fellows that, at all events, it was too late to interfere then, as the monarch must certainly be hard-boiled by that time -- which relieved them from all responsibility in the happiest manner.
+
+At this point the Queen appeared at the head of the marble steps, down which she glided cautiously and came towards them, evidently in a condition of suppressed excitement.
+
+'What a beautiful evening!' said the Chorus in unison, for they considered it better taste not to appear to have noticed anything at all unusual.
+
+'Agamemnon is with his ancestors,' she replied in a fierce whisper; 'I sewed up the sleeves of his bathing-gown and I drugged his coffee, and then from afar I turned on the hot water. And he is boiled, and it serves him right, and I'm glad of it -- so now! But tell me, ye aged ones,' she added with one of her quick transitions, 'have I done well?'
+
+Now the Chorus were distinctly disgusted at her want of tact and reserve, and would have greatly preferred not to be admitted into confidences of so purely domestic a description, but they were not the men to flinch from their duty.
+
+'In our opinion, O Queen,' they replied coldly, 'the deed was a hasty one, and accomplished without sufficient consideration.'
+
+'Ha!' she exclaimed angrily, 'so ye would rate me like a girl! Am I not your sovereign mistress? Guard, seize these insolents!'
+
+And the superannuated old sentinel left his box and tottered up to seize as many of them as he could lay hold of at once, telling the remainder to consider themselves under arrest, which they did directly.
+
+'Summon the populace,' Clytemnestra next commanded, and the Argives left the fireworks obediently and assembled before the steps.
+
+'Citizens! Argives!' she cried in a loud clear voice, 'I am sure you will all be very sorry and disappointed to hear that your beloved sovereign, so lately restored to us' (here she broke down with the naturalness of a great artist) -- 'that our beloved sovereign is -- by a most deplorable and unaccountable lack of precaution -- -- '
+
+'Alive!' interrupted a voice from behind the Queen, and someone pushed aside the hangings before the door of the Palace, and began to descend the steps. It was Agamemnon himself.
+
+Clytemnestra shrieked as she turned slowly, and confronted him in silence for some moments; the situation was intensely dramatic, and the Argives, a simple and affectionate people, fully appreciated this, and never once regretted the fireworks they had abandoned.
+
+The Queen was the first to speak: 'So,' she said, pale and panting, 'you -- you've -- had your bath?'
+
+'Well -- no,' said Agamemnon mildly; 'I happened to observe that someone had thoughtfully sewn up the armholes of my dressing-gown, and that the coffee had a particularly nasty smell in it, and so, somehow, I thought I would rather wait. And then the boiling water came rushing in, and I saw there had been a little mistake somewhere. So it occurred to me that I too would dissemble and see what came of it, and I shouted for help. I think I see it all now.'
+
+And then he took a higher moral tone; his manner was no longer cynical; he was not angry even -- only deeply wounded, and there was something fine and striking in the stern sadness of his brow.
+
+'So this,' he said, 'was to have been my fate? I was to return, a war-worn warrior, to the hearth and home from which I had been absent so long -- so long -- to be ruthlessly parboiled the very moment after my arrival, by the partner of my throne! Was this kind -- was this wifely, Clytemnestra?'
+
+'That comes so well from you, does it not?' she retorted.
+
+'Why -- why -- what do you mean?' he stammered.
+
+'You know very well what I mean,' she said. 'Bah! why play the hypocrite with me?'
+
+'Is it possible,' he cried, 'that you can suspect me of not having been near Troy all this time -- tell me, Clytemnestra -- is this monstrous thing possible?'
+
+'Quite,' she replied; 'I know you haven't!'
+
+'What -- when I tell you that there is a poet, a fellow called Homer or something, who has got a sort of reputation already by putting the campaign into verses, rather long, but quite readable (you must order them); well, there's a lot about me in them.'
+
+'Did Homer see you there?'
+
+'Now that's a most ridiculous question,' he protested, with a feeling that she was coming round, and that he should convince her directly; 'the poet's blind, Clytemnestra, quite blind. But I will not argue -- you must be content with a warrior's assurance.'
+
+She laughed. 'I'm afraid,' she said, 'that even a warrior's assurance will find it difficult to account satisfactorily for this -- and this -- and these!' And as she spoke, she handed him a variety of articles: a folding hat, a guide to Corinth, a conversation manual, several unused tourist tickets, one or two theatre programmes, a green veil, some supper bills, a correct card for the Olympian races, with the names of probable starters, and three little jointed wooden dolls.
+
+Agamemnon took them all helplessly; all his virtuous indignation had evaporated, and he looked very red and foolish as he said with a kind of nervous laugh, 'You've been looking in my pockets!'
+
+'I have,' she said, 'and now what have you to say for yourself? I don't believe there is any such place as Troy.'
+
+'There is indeed,' he pleaded; 'I can show it to you on the map!'
+
+'Well,' she said, 'if there is, you never went near it!'
+
+'Send those people away,' he said, 'and I will tell you all!'
+
+And when they had gone, he confessed everything, explaining that he really had meant to go to Troy at first, and how, as he got nearer, he found himself less and less inclined for fighting -- until at last he determined to travel about and see life instead, and, as he expressed it, 'pick up a little character.'
+
+'Well,' said Clytemnestra, 'I will have no little characters in my palace, Agamemnon.'
+
+But he protested that she had not understood him. 'And if I have erred, my love,' he suggested humbly, 'excuse me, but I cannot help thinking that the means devised for my correction were unnecessarily severe!'
+
+'They were nothing of the sort,' she said; 'you deserved it all -- and worse!'
+
+Upon this Agamemnon made haste to assure her that she had shown a very proper spirit, and he respected her the more for it. 'And now,' he put it to her, 'why not let bygones be bygones?' But Clytemnestra's reply was that she would be quite willing to permit this when they were bygones, which, at present, she added, they were very far from being.
+
+The King was in despair, until beneficent nature came to his assistance; a faint chirrup was heard from a neighbouring bush, a circumstance which he turned to admirable account.
+
+'You hear it?' he asked tenderly, 'the dulcet strain? Know ye the note? Ah, Clytemnestra, 'tis the owl -- the blithe and tuneful owl! Owls sang on our bridal night -- can you hear their melody now and be unmoved? No, I did but wrong ye ... a tear trembles on that eyelash, a smile flickers upon that lip! I am pardoned. Clytemnestra -- wife, embrace me ... we both have much to forgive!'
+
+This speech (which was not unlike some he had heard in thrilling dramas at the 'Hæmabronteion,' Corinth, where the prophetess Cassandra had been greatly admired in her impersonations of persecuted and distracted heroines) touched Clytemnestra's heart, in which, hard as it was, there was a strain of sentiment -- and she fell sobbing into her husband's arms.
+
+And so all was forgotten and forgiven in the most satisfactory manner, the Chorus (who had been considering themselves arrested until the intellectual strain had proved almost too much for them) were released, while it was found on inquiry that both Ægisthus and Cassandra were missing, and no trace of either of them was ever found again; but it was generally understood that, with a delicate unselfishness, they had been unwilling to remain where their presence would lead to inevitable complications.
+
+And from that night -- until the fatal day, some six short weeks afterwards, when each, by an unfortunate oversight, partook of a mixture which had been carefully prepared for the other -- there was not a happier royal couple in all Argos than Clytemnestra and Agamemnon.
+
+THE WRAITH OF BARNJUM.[1]
+
+[Illustration: I]
+
+I frankly admit, whatever may be the consequences of doing so, that I was not fond of Barnjum; in fact, I detested him. Everything that fellow said and did jarred upon me to an absolutely indescribable extent, although I did not discover for some time that he regarded me with a strange and unreasonable aversion.
+
+We were so essentially unlike in almost every particular -- I, with my innate refinement and high culture, my over-fastidious exclusiveness in the choice of associates; and he, a big, red, coarse brute, with neither sweetness nor light, who knew himself a Philistine, and seemed to like it -- we were so unlike, that I often asked him, with a genuine desire for information, what had I in common with him?
+
+[Footnote 1: Reprinted from Temple Bar for March 1879, by permission of the Proprietors.]
+
+And yet it will scarcely be believed, perhaps, that with such good reasons for keeping apart, we were continually seeking one another's company with a zest that knew no satiety. The only explanation I can offer for such a phenomenon is, that our mutual antipathy had become so much a part of ourselves, that we could not let it perish for lack of nourishment.
+
+Perhaps we were not conscious of this at the time, and when we agreed to go on a walking tour together in North Wales, I think it was chiefly because we knew that we could devise no surer means of annoying one another; but, however that may be, in an ill-starred day for my own peace of mind, we started upon a journey from which but one of us was fated to return.
+
+I pass by the painful experiences of the first few days of that unhappy tour. I will say nothing of Barnjum's grovelling animalism, of his consummate selfishness, his more than bucolic indifference to the charms of Nature, nor even of the mean and sordid way in which he contrived to let me in for railway tickets and hotel bills.
+
+I wish to tell my melancholy story with perfect impartiality, and I am sure that I am not reduced to exciting any prejudice to secure the sympathies of all readers.
+
+I shall pass, then, to the memorable day when my disgust, so long pent up, so imperfectly concealed, culminated in one grand outburst of a not ignoble indignation, to the hour when I summoned up moral courage to sever the bonds which linked us so unequally.
+
+I remember it so well, that brilliant morning in June when we left the Temperance Hotel, Doldwyddlm, and scaled in sulky silence the craggy heights of Cader Idris, which, I presume, still overhang that picturesque village, while, as we ascended, an ever-changing and ever-improving panorama unrolled itself before my delighted eyes.
+
+The air up there was keen and bracing, and I recollect that I could not repress an æsthetic shudder at the crude and primitive tone which Barnjum's nose had assumed under atmospheric influences. I mentioned this (for we still maintained the outward forms of friendship), when he retorted, with the brutal personality which formed so strong an ingredient of his character, that if I could only see myself in that suit of mine, and that hat (referring to the dress I was then wearing), I should feel the propriety of letting his nose alone. To which I replied, with a sarcasm that I feel now was a little too crushing, that I had every intention of doing so, as it was quite painful enough to merely contemplate such a spectacle; and he, evidently meaning to be offensive, remarked, that no one could help his nose getting red, but that any man in my position could at least dress like a gentleman I took no notice of this insult; a Bunting (I don't think I mentioned before that my name is Philibert Bunting) -- a Bunting can afford to pass such insinuations by; indeed, I find it actually cheaper to do so, and I flattered myself that my dress was distinguished by a sort of studied looseness, that would appeal at once to a cultivated and artistic eye, though of course Barnjum's hard and shallow organs could not be expected to appreciate it.
+
+I overlooked it, then, and presently we found ourselves skirting the edge of a huge chasm, whose steep sides sloped sheer down into the slate-blue waters of the lake below.
+
+How can I hope to give an idea of the magnificent view which met our eyes as we stood there -- a view of which, as far as I am aware, no description has ever yet been attempted?
+
+To our right towered the Peaks of Dolgelly, with their saw-like outline cutting the blue sky with a faint grating sound, while the shreds of white cloud lay below in drifts. At our feet were the sun-lit waters of the lake, upon which danced a fleet of brown-sailed herring-boats; beyond was the plain of Capel Curig, and there, over on the left, sparkled the falls of Y-Dydd.
+
+As I took all this in I felt a longing to say something worthy of the occasion. Being possessed of a considerable fund of carefully-dried and selected humour, I frequently amuse myself by a species of intellectual exercise, which consists in so framing a remark that a word or more therein may bear two entirely opposite constructions; and some of the quaint names of the vicinity seemed to me just then admirably adapted for this purpose.
+
+I was about to gauge my dull-witted companion's capacity by some such test, when he forestalled me.
+
+'You ought to live up here, Bunting,' said he; 'you were made for this identical old mountain.'
+
+I was not displeased, for, Londoner as I am, I have the nerve and steadiness of a practised mountaineer.
+
+'Perhaps I was,' I said good-humouredly; 'but how did you find it out?'
+
+'I'll tell you,' he replied, with one of his odious grins. 'This is Cader Idris, ain't it? well, and you're a cad awry dressed, ain't you? Cader Idrissed, see?' (he was dastard enough to explain) 'That's how I get at it!'
+
+He must have been laboriously leading up to that for the last ten minutes!
+
+I solemnly declare that it was not the personal outrage that roused me; I simply felt that a paltry verbal quibble of that description, emitted amidst such scenery and at that altitude, required a protest in the name of indignant Nature, and I protested accordingly, although with an impetuosity which I afterwards regretted, and of which I cannot even now entirely approve.
+
+He happened to be standing on the brink of an abyss, and had just turned his back upon me, as, with a vigorous thrust of my right foot, I launched him into the blue æther, with the chuckle at his unhallowed jest still hovering upon his lips.
+
+I am aware that by such an act I took a liberty which, under ordinary circumstances, even the licence of a life-long friendship would scarcely have justified; but I thought it only due to myself to let him see plainly that I desired our acquaintanceship to cease from that instant, and Barnjum was the kind of man upon whom a more delicate hint would have been distinctly thrown away.
+
+I watched his progress with some interest as he rebounded from point to point during his descent. I waited -- punctiliously, perhaps, until the echoes he had aroused had died away on the breeze, and then, slowly and thoughtfully, I retraced my steps, and left a spot which was already becoming associated for me with memories the reverse of pleasurable.
+
+* * * * *
+
+I took the next up-train, and before I reached town had succeeded in dismissing the incident from my mind, or if I thought of it at all, it was only to indulge relief at the reflection that I had shaken off Barnjum for ever.
+
+But when I had paid my cab, and was taking out my latch-key, a curious thing happened -- the driver called me back.
+
+'Beg pardon, sir,' he said hoarsely, 'but I think you've bin and left something white in my cab!'
+
+I turned and looked in: there, grinning at me from the interior of the hansom, over the folding-doors, was the wraith of Barnjum!
+
+I had presence of mind enough to thank the man for his honesty, and go upstairs to my rooms with as little noise as possible. Barnjum's ghost, as I expected, followed me in, and sat down coolly before the fire, in my arm-chair, thus giving me an opportunity of subjecting the apparition to a thorough examination.
+
+It was quite the conventional ghost, filmy, transparent, and, though wanting firmness in outline, a really passable likeness of Barnjum. Before I retired to rest I had thrown both my boots and the contents of my bookcase completely through the thing, without appearing to cause it more than a temporary inconvenience -- which convinced me that it was indeed a being from another world.
+
+Its choice of garments struck me even then as decidedly unusual. I am not narrow; I cheerfully allow that, assuming the necessity for apparitions at all, it is well that they should be clothed in robes of some kind; but Barnjum's ghost delighted in a combination of costume which set the fitness of things at defiance.
+
+It wore that evening, for instance, to the best of my recollection, striped pantaloons, a surplice, and an immense cocked hat; but on subsequent occasions its changes of costume were so rapid and eccentric, that I ceased to pay much attention to them, and could only explain them on the supposition that somewhere in space there exists a supernatural store in the nature of a theatrical wardrobe, and that Barnjum's ghost had the run of it.
+
+I had not been in very long before my landlady came up to see if I wanted anything, and of course as soon as she came in, she saw the wraith. At first she objected to it very strongly, declaring that she would not have such nasty things in her house, and if I wanted to keep ghosts, I had better go somewhere else; but I pacified her at last by representing that it would give her no extra trouble, and that I was only taking care of it for a friend.
+
+When she had gone, however, I sat up till late, thinking calmly over my position, and the complications which might be expected to ensue from it.
+
+It would be very easy to harrow the reader's feelings and work upon his sympathies here by a telling description of my terror and my guilty confusion at the unforeseen consequences of what I had done. But I think, in relating an experience of this kind, the straightforward way is always the best, and I do not care to heighten the effect by attributing to myself a variety of sensations which I do not remember to have actually felt at the time.
+
+My first impression had not unnaturally been that the spectre was merely the product of overwrought nerves or indigestion, but it seemed improbable that a cabman should be plagued by a morbid activity of imagination, and that a landlady's digestion could be delicate sufficiently to evolve a thing so far removed from the merely commonplace; and, reluctantly enough, I was forced to the conclusion that it was a real ghost, and would probably continue to haunt me to the end of my days.
+
+Of course I was disgusted by this exhibition of petty revenge and low malice on the part of Barnjum, which might be tolerated perhaps in a Christmas annual, with a full-page illustration, but which, in real life and the height of summer, was a glaring anachronism.
+
+Still, it was of no use to repine then; I resolved to look at the thing in a common-sense light -- I told myself that I had made my ghost, and would have to live with it. And after all, I had much to be thankful for: Barnjum in the spirit was a decided improvement upon Barnjum in the flesh; and as the spirit did not appear to be gifted with speech, it was unlikely to tell tales.
+
+Luckily for me, too, Barnjum was absolutely unknown about town: his only relative was an aunt resident at Camberwell, and so there was no danger of any suspicion being excited by chance recognition in the circles to which I belonged.
+
+It would have been folly to shut one's eyes to the fact that it might require considerable nerve to re-enter society closely attended by an obscure and fancifully-attired apparition.
+
+Society would sneer considerably at first and make remarks, but I was full of tact and knowledge of the world, and I knew, too, that men have overcome far more formidable obstacles to social success than any against which I should be called upon to contend.
+
+And so, instead of weakly giving way to unreasonable panic, I took the more manly course of determining to live it down, with what success I shall have presently to show.
+
+When I went out after breakfast the next morning, Barnjum's ghost insisted upon coming too, and followed me, to my intense annoyance, all down St. James's Street; in fact, for many weeks it was almost constantly by my side, and rendered me the innocent victim of mingled curiosity and aversion.
+
+I thought it best to affect to be unaware of the presence of anything of a ghostly nature, and when taxed with it, ascribed it to the diseased fancy of my interlocutor; but, by-and-by, as the whole town began to ring with the story, I found it impossible to pretend ignorance any longer.
+
+So I gave out that it was an artfully-contrived piece of spectral mechanism, of which I was the inventor, and for which I contemplated taking out a patent; and this would have earned for me a high reputation in the scientific world if Messrs. Maskelyne and Cooke had not grown envious of my fame, declaring that they had long since anticipated the secret of my machine, and could manufacture one in every way superior to it, which they presently did.
+
+Then I was obliged to confide (in the strictest secrecy) to two members of the Peerage (both persons of irreproachable breeding, with whom I was at that time exceedingly intimate) that it was indeed a bonâ fide apparition, and that I rather liked such things about me. I cannot explain how it happened, but in a very short time the story had gone the round of the clubs and drawing-rooms, and I found myself launched as a lion of the largest size -- if it is strictly correct to speak of launching a lion.
+
+I received invitations everywhere, on the tacit understanding that I was to bring my ghost, and the wraith of Barnjum, as some who read this may remember, was to be seen at all the best houses in town for the remainder of the season; while in the following autumn, I was asked down for the shooting by several wealthy parvenus, with a secret hope, unless I am greatly mistaken, that the ghost might conceive the idea of remaining with them permanently, thereby imparting to their brand-new palaces the necessary flavour of legend and mystery; but of course it never did.
+
+To tell the truth, whatever novelty there was about it soon wore off -- too soon, in fact, for, fickle as society is, I have no hesitation in asserting that we ought to have lasted it at least a second season, if only Barnjum's ghost had not persisted in making itself so ridiculously cheap that, in little more than a fortnight, society was as sick of it as I was myself.
+
+And then the inconveniences which attached to my situation began to assert themselves more and more emphatically.
+
+I began to stay at home sometimes in the evening, when I observed that the phantom had an unpleasant trick of illuminating itself at the approach of darkness with a bilious green light, which, as it was not nearly strong enough to enable me to dispense with a reading lamp, merely served to depress me.
+
+And then it began to absent itself occasionally for days together, and though at first I was rather glad not to see so much of it, I grew uneasy at last. I was always fancying that the Psychical Society, who are credited with understanding the proper treatment of spectres in health and disease, from the tomb upwards, might have got hold of it and be teaching it to talk and compromise me. I heard afterwards that one of their most prominent members did happen to come across it, but, with a scepticism which I cannot but think was somewhat wanting in discernment, rejected it as a palpable imposition.
+
+I had to leave the rooms where I had been so comfortable, for my landlady complained that the street was blocked up by a mob of the lowest description from seven till twelve every evening, and she really could not put up with it any longer.
+
+On inquiry I found that this was owing to Barnjum's ghost getting out upon the roof almost every night after dark, and playing the fool among the chimney-pots, causing me, as its apparent owner, to be indicted five times for committing a common nuisance by obstructing the thoroughfare, and once for collecting an unlawful assembly: I spent all my spare cash in fines.
+
+I believe there were portraits of us both in the 'Illustrated Police News,' but the distinction implied in this was more than outweighed by the fact that Barnjum's wraith was slowly but surely undermining both my fortune and my reputation.
+
+It followed me one day to one of the underground railway stations, and would get into a compartment with me, which led to a lawsuit that made a nine days' sensation in the legal world. I need only mention the celebrated case of 'The Metropolitan District Railway v. Bunting,' in which the important principle was once for all laid down that a railway company by the terms of its contract is entitled to refuse to carry ghosts, spectres, or any other supernatural baggage, and can moreover exact a heavy penalty from passengers who infringe its bye-laws in this respect.
+
+This was, of course, a decision against me, and carried heavy costs, which my private fortune was just sufficient to meet.
+
+But Barnjum's ghost was bent upon alienating me from society also, for at one of the best dances of the season, at a house where I had with infinite pains just succeeded in establishing a precarious footing, that miserable phantom disgraced me for ever by executing a shadowy but decidedly objectionable species of cancan between the dances!
+
+Feeling indirectly responsible for its behaviour, I apologised profusely to my hostess, but the affair found its way into the society journals, and she never either forgave or recognised me again.
+
+Shortly after that, the committee of my club (one of the most exclusive in London) invited me to resign, intimating that, by introducing an acquaintance of questionable antecedents and disreputable exterior into the smoking-room, I had abused the privileges of membership.
+
+I had been afraid of this when I saw it following me into the building, arrayed in Highland costume and a tall hat; but I was quite unable to drive it away.
+
+Up to that time I had been at the bar, where I was doing pretty well, but now no respectable firm of solicitors would employ a man who had such an unprofessional thing as a phantom about his chambers. I threw up my practice, and had no sooner changed my last sovereign than I was summoned for keeping a ghost without a licence!
+
+Some men, no doubt, would have given up there and then in despair -- but I am made of sterner stuff, and, besides, an idea had already occurred to me of turning the table upon my shadowy persecutor.
+
+Barnjum's ghost had ruined me: why should I not endeavour to turn an honest penny out of Barnjum's ghost? It was genuine -- as I well knew; it was, in some respects, original; it was eminently calculated to delight the young and instruct the old; there was even a moral or two to be got out of it, and though it had long failed to attract in town, I saw no reason why it should not make a great hit in the provinces.
+
+I borrowed the necessary funds and had soon made all preliminary arrangements for running the wraith of Barnjum on a short tour in the provinces, deciding to open at Tenby, in South Wales.
+
+I took every precaution, travelling by night and keeping within doors all day, lest the shade (which was deplorably destitute of the commonest professional pride) should get about and exhibit itself beforehand for nothing; and so successful was I, that when it first burst upon a Welsh audience, from the platform of the Assembly Rooms, Tenby, no ghost could have wished for a more enthusiastic reception, and -- for the first and last time -- I felt positively proud of it!
+
+But the applause gradually subsided, and was succeeded by an awkward pause. It had not struck me till that moment that it would be necessary to do or say anything in particular during the exhibition, beyond showing the spectators round the phantom, and making the customary assurance that there was no deception and no concealed machinery, which I could do with a clear conscience. But a terrible conviction struck me as I stood there bowing repeatedly, that the audience had come prepared for a comic duologue, with incidental music and dances.
+
+This was quite out of the question, even supposing that Barnjum's ghost would have helped me to entertain them, which, perhaps, I could scarcely expect. As it was, it did nothing at all, except grimace at the audience and make an idiotic fool of itself and me -- an exhibition of which they soon wearied. I am perfectly certain that an ordinary magic lantern would have made a far deeper impression upon them.
+
+Whether the wraith managed in some covert way, when my attention was diverted, to insult the national prejudices of that sensitive and hot-blooded nation, I cannot say. All I know is, that after sitting still for some time they suddenly rose as one man; chairs were hurled at me through the ghost, and the stage was completely wrecked before the audience could be induced to go away.
+
+It was all over. I was hopelessly ruined now! My weak fancy that even a spectre would have some remnants of common decency and good-feeling hanging about it, had put the finishing touch to my misfortunes!
+
+I paid for the smashed platform and windows with the money that had been taken at the doors, and then I travelled back to London, third class, that night, with the feeling that everything was against me.
+
+* * * * *
+
+It was Christmas, and I was sitting gloomily in my shabby Bloomsbury lodgings, watching with a miserable, apathetic interest Barnjum's wraith as, clad in a Roman toga, topboots, and a turban, it flitted about the horsehair furniture.
+
+I was wondering if they would admit me into any workhouse while the spectre continued my attendant; I was utterly and completely wretched, and now, for the first time, I really repented my conduct in having parted with Barnjum so abruptly by the bleak cliff side, that bright June morning.
+
+I had heard no more of him -- I knew he must have reached the bottom after his fall, because I heard the splash he made -- but no tidings had come of the discovery of his body; the lake kept its dark secret well.
+
+If I could only hope that this insidious shade, now that it had hounded me down to poverty, would consider this as a sufficient expiation of my error and go away and leave me in peace! But I felt, only too keenly, that it was one of those one-idea'd apparitions, which never know when they have had enough of a good thing -- it would be sure to stay and see the very last of me!
+
+All at once there came a sharp tap at my door, and another figure strode solemnly in. This, too, wore the semblance of Barnjum, but was cast in a more substantial mould, and possessed the power of speech, as I gathered from its addressing me instantly as a cowardly villain.
+
+I started back, and stood behind an arm-chair, facing those two forms, the shadow and the solid, with a feeling of sick despair. 'Listen to me,' I said, 'both of you: so long as your -- your original proprietor was content with a single wraith, I put up with it; I did not enjoy myself -- but I endured it. But a brace of apparitions is really carrying the thing too far; it's more than any one man's fair allowance, and I won't stand it. I defy the pair of you. I will find means to escape you. I will leave the world! Other people can be ghosts as well as you -- it's not a monopoly! If you don't go directly, I shall blow my brains out!'
+
+There was no firearm of any description in the house, but I was too excited for perfect accuracy.
+
+'Blow your brains out by all means!' said the solid figure; 'I don't know what all this nonsense you're talking is about. I'm not a ghost that I'm aware of; I'm alive (no thanks to you); and, to come back to the point -- scoundrel!'
+
+'Barnjum -- and alive!' I cried, almost with relief. 'If that is so,' I added, feeling that I had been imposed upon in a very unworthy and ungentlemanly manner, 'will you have the goodness to tell me what right you have to this ridiculous apparition here?'
+
+He did not seem to have noticed it particularly till then. 'Hullo!' he said, looking at it with some curiosity, 'what d'ye call that thing?'
+
+'I call it a beastly nuisance!' I said. 'Ever since -- since I last saw you, it's been following me about everywhere in a -- in a very annoying manner!'
+
+Will it be believed that the unfeeling brute only chuckled at this? 'I don't know anything about it,' he said, 'but all I can say is that it serves you jolly well right, and I hope it will go on annoying you.'
+
+'This is ungenerous,' I said, determined to appeal to any better feelings he might have; 'we did not part on -- on the best of terms perhaps -- -- '
+
+'Considering that you kicked me over a precipice when I wasn't looking,' he retorted brutally, 'we may take that as admitted.'
+
+'But, at all events,' I argued, 'it is ridiculous to cherish an old grudge all this time; you must see the absurdity of it yourself.'
+
+'No, I don't,' he said.
+
+I determined to make a last effort to move him. 'It is Christmas Eve, Barnjum,' I said earnestly, 'Christmas Eve. Think of it. At this hour, thousands of throbbing human hearts are speeding the cheap but genial Christmas card to such of their relations as they consider at all likely to respond with a turkey. The costermonger, imaginative for the nonce, is investing damaged evergreens with a purely fictitious value, and the cheery publican is sending the member of his village goose-club back to his cottage home, rich in the possession of a shot-distended bird and a bottle of poisonous port. Hear my appeal. If I was hasty with you, I have been punished. That detestable thing on the hearthrug there has dogged my path to misery and ruin; you cannot be without some responsibility for its conduct. I ask you now, as a man -- nay, as an individual -- to call it off. You can do it well enough if you only choose; you know you can.'
+
+But Barnjum wouldn't; he only looked at his own wraith with a grim satisfaction as it capered in an imbecile fashion upon the rug.
+
+'Do,' I implored him; 'I would do it for you, Barnjum. I've had it about me for six months, and I am so sick of it.'
+
+Still he hesitated. Some waits outside were playing one of those pathetic American melodies -- I forget now whether it was 'Silver Threads among the Gold,' or 'In the Sweet By-and-By' -- but, at all events, they struck some sympathetic chord in Barnjum's rough bosom, for his face began to twitch, and presently he burst unexpectedly into tears.
+
+'You don't deserve it,' he said between his sobs, 'but be it so'; then, turning to the ghost, he added: Here, you, what's your name? avaunt! D'ye hear, hook it!'
+
+It wavered for an instant, and then, to my joy, it suddenly 'gave' all over, and, shrivelling up into a sort of cobweb, was drawn by the draught into the fireplace, and carried up the chimney, and I never saw it again.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Barnjum's escape was very simple; he had fallen upon one of the herring-boats in the lake, and the heap of freshly-caught fish lying on the deck had merely broken his fall instead of his neck. As soon as he had recovered from the effects, he was called away from this country upon urgent business, and found himself unable to return for months.
+
+But to this day the appearance of the wraith is a mystery to me. If Barnjum had been the kind of man to be an 'esoteric Buddhist,' it might be accounted for as an 'astral shape'; but esoteric Buddhism requires an exemplary character and years of abstract meditation -- both of which conditions were far beyond Barnjum's attainment.
+
+The shape may have been one of those subtle emanations which we are told some people are constantly shedding, like the coats of an onion, and which certain conditions of the atmosphere, and the extreme activity of Barnjum's mind under sudden excitement, possibly contributed to materialise in this particular instance.
+
+Or, perhaps, it was merely a caprice of one of those vagrant Poltergeists, or supernatural buffoons, which took upon itself, very officiously, the duty of avenging my behaviour to Barnjum.
+
+Upon one point I am clear: the whole of this system of deliberate persecution being undertaken directly on Barnjum's account, he is morally and legally bound to reimburse me for the heavy expense and damage which have resulted therefrom.
+
+Hitherto I have been unable to impress Barnjum with this principle, and so my wrongs are still without redress.
+
+I may be asked why I do not make them the basis of an action at law; but persons of any refinement will understand my reluctance to resort to legal proceedings against one with whom I have at least lived on a footing of friendship. I would fain persuade, and shrink from appealing to force; and, besides, I have not succeeded as yet in persuading any solicitor -- even a shady one -- to take up my case.
+
+A TOY TRAGEDY.
+
+A STORY FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: T]
+
+This story is mostly about dolls, and I am afraid that all boys, and a good many girls who have tried hard to forget that they ever had dolls, will not care about hearing it. Still, as I have been very careful to warn them at the very beginning, they must not blame me if they read on and find that it does not interest them.
+
+It was after dark, and the criss-cross shadows of the high wire-fender were starting in and out on the walls and ceiling of Winifred's nursery in the flickering firelight, and Winifred's last new doll Ethelinda was sitting on the top of a chest of drawers, leaning back languidly against the wall.
+
+Ethelinda was a particularly handsome doll; she had soft thick golden hair, arranged in the latest fashion, full blue eyes, with rather more expression in them than dolls' eyes generally have, a rose-leaf complexion, the least little haughty curl on her red lips, and a costume that came direct from Paris.
+
+She ought to have been happy with all these advantages, and yet she was plainly dissatisfied; she looked disgustedly at all around her, at the coloured pictures from the illustrated papers on the walls, the staring red dolls' house, the big Noah's ark on the shelf, and the dingy dappled rocking-horse in the corner -- she despised them all.
+
+'I do wish I was back in Regent Street again,' she sighed aloud.
+
+There was another doll sitting quite close to her, but Ethelinda had not made the remark to him, as he did not seem at all the sort of person to be encouraged.
+
+He was certainly odd-looking: his head was a little too big for his body, and his body was very much too big for his legs; he had fuzzy white hair, and a face which was rather like Punch's only with all the fun taken out of it.
+
+When anyone pinched him in the chest hard, he squeaked and shut his eyes, as if it hurt him -- and very likely it did. He wore a tawdry jester's dress of red and blue, and once he had even carried a cymbal in each hand and clapped them together every time they made him squeak; but he had always disliked being obliged to make so much noise, for he was of a quiet and retiring nature, and so he had got rid of his unmusical instruments as soon as he could.
+
+Still, even without the cymbals, his appearance was hardly respectable, and Ethelinda was a little annoyed to find him so near her, though he never guessed her feelings, which was fortunate for him, for he had fallen in love with her.
+
+Since he first entered the nursery he had had a good deal of knocking about, but his life there had begun to seem easier to put up with from the moment she formed part of it.
+
+He had never dared to speak to her before, she had never given him the chance; and besides, it was quite enough for him to look at her; but now he thought she meant to be friendly and begin a conversation.
+
+'Are you very dull here then?' he asked rather nervously.
+
+Ethelinda stared at first; no one had introduced him, and she felt very much inclined to take no notice; however, she thought after her long silence that it might amuse her to talk to somebody, even if it was only a shabby common creature like this jester.
+
+So she said, 'Dull! You were never in Regent Street, or you wouldn't ask such a question.'
+
+'I came from the Lowther Arcade,' he said.
+
+'Oh, really?' drawled Ethelinda; 'then, of course, this would be quite a pleasant change for you.'
+
+'I don't know,' he said; 'I liked the Arcade. It was so lively; a little noisy perhaps -- too much top spinning, and pop-gunning, and mouth-organ playing all round one -- but very cheerful. Yes, I liked the Arcade.'
+
+'Very mixed the society there, isn't it?' she asked; 'aren't you expected to know penny things?'
+
+'Well, there were a good many penny things there,' he owned, 'and very amusing they were. There was a wooden bird there that used to duck his head and wag his tail when they swung a weight underneath -- he would have made you laugh so!'
+
+'I hope,' said Ethelinda freezingly, 'I should never so far forget myself as to laugh under any circumstances -- and certainly not at a penny thing!'
+
+'I wonder how much he cost?' she thought; 'not very much, I can see from his manner. But perhaps I can get him to tell me. Do you remember,' she asked aloud, 'what was the -- ah -- the premium they asked for introducing you here -- did you happen to catch the amount?
+
+'Do you mean my price?' he said; 'oh, elevenpence three farthings -- it was on the ticket.'
+
+'What a vulgar creature!' thought Ethelinda; 'I shall really have to drop him.'
+
+'Dear me,' she said,'that sounds very reasonable, very moderate indeed; but perhaps you were "reduced"?' for she thought he would be more bearable if he had cost a little more once.
+
+'I don't think so,' he said; 'that's the fair selling price.'
+
+'Well, that's very curious,' said she, 'because the young man at Regent Street (a most charming person, by the way) positively wouldn't part with me under thirty-five shillings, and he said so many delightful things about me that I feel quite sorry for him sometimes, when I think how he must be missing me. But then, very likely he's saying the same thing about some other doll now!'
+
+'I suppose he is,' said the jester (he had seen something of toy-selling in his time); 'it's his business, you know.'
+
+'I don't see how you can possibly tell,' said Ethelinda, who had not expected him to agree with her; 'the Lowther Arcade is not Regent Street.'
+
+The jester did not care to dispute this. 'And were you very happy at Regent Street?' he asked.
+
+'Happy?' she repeated. 'Well, I don't know; at least, one was not bored there. I was in the best set, you see, the two-guinea one, and they were always getting up something to amuse us in the window -- a review, or a sham fight, or a garden-party, or something. Last winter they gave us a fancy-dress ball -- I went as Mary Stuart, and was very much admired. But here -- -- ' and she finished the sentence with a disdainful little shrug.
+
+'I don't think you'll find it so very bad here, when you get a little more used to it,' he said; 'our mistress -- -- '
+
+'Pray don't use that very unpleasant word,' she interrupted sharply. 'Did you never hear of "dolls' rights?" We call these people "hostesses."'
+
+'Well, our hostess, then -- Winifred, she's not unkind. She doesn't care much about me, and that cousin of hers, Master Archie, gives me a bad time of it when I come in his way, but really she's very polite and attentive to you.'
+
+'Polite and attentive!' sneered Ethelinda (and if you have never seen a doll sneer, you can have no idea how alarming it is). 'I don't call it an attention to be treated like a baby by a little chit of a girl who can't dress herself properly yet -- no style, no elegance, and actually a pinafore in the mornings!'
+
+This is the way some of these costly lady dolls talk about their benefactresses when the gas is out and they think no one overhears them. I don't know whether the plain old-fashioned ones, who are not so carefully treated, but often more tenderly loved, are as bad; but it is impossible to say -- dolls are exceedingly artful, and there are persons, quite clever in other things, who will tell you honestly that they do not understand them in the least.
+
+'Then the society here,' Ethelinda went on, without much consideration for the other's feelings -- perhaps she thought he was too cheap to have any -- 'it's really something too dreadful for words. Why, those people in the poky little house over there, with only four rooms and a front door they can't open, have never had the decency to call upon me. Not that I should take any notice, of course, if they did, but it just shows what they are. And the other day I actually overheard one frightful creature in a print dress, with nothing on her head but a great tin-tack, ask another horror "which she liked best -- make-believe tea or orange-juice!"'
+
+'Well, I prefer make-believe tea myself,' said the jester, 'because, you see, I can't get the orange-juice down, and so it's rather bad for the dress and complexion.'
+
+'Possibly,' she said scornfully. 'I'm thankful to say I've not been called upon to try it myself -- even Miss Winifred knows better than that. But, anyhow, it's horribly insipid here, and I suppose it will be like this always now. I did hope once that when I went out into the world I should be a heroine and have a romance of my own.'
+
+'What is a romance?' he asked.
+
+'I thought you wouldn't understand me,' she said; 'a romance is -- well, there's champagne in it, and cigarettes, to begin with.'
+
+'But what is champagne?' he interrupted.
+
+'Something you drink,' she said; 'what else could it be?'
+
+'I see,' he said; 'a sort of orange-juice.'
+
+'Orange-juice!' Ethelinda cried contemptuously; 'it's not in the least like orange-juice; it's -- -- ' (she didn't know what it was made of herself, but there was no use in telling him so) 'I couldn't make you understand without too much trouble, you really are so very ignorant, but there's a good deal of it in romances. And dukes, and guardsmen, and being very beautiful and deliciously miserable, till just before the end -- that's a romance! My milliner used to have it read out to her while she was dressing me for that ball I told you about.'
+
+'Do you mind telling me what a heroine is?' he asked. 'I know I'm very stupid.'
+
+'A heroine? oh, any doll can be a heroine. I felt all the time the heroines were all just like me. They were either very good or very wicked, and I'm sure I could be the one or the other if I got the chance. I think it would be more amusing, perhaps, to be a little wicked, but then it's not quite so easy, you know.'
+
+'I should think it would be more uncomfortable,' he suggested.
+
+'Ah, but then you see you haven't any sentiment about you,' she said disparagingly.
+
+'No,' he admitted, 'I'm afraid I haven't. I suppose they couldn't put it in for elevenpence three farthings.'
+
+'I should think not,' Ethelinda observed, 'it's very expensive.' And then, after a short silence, she said more confidentially, 'you were talking of Master Archie just now. I rather like that boy, do you know. I believe I could make something of him if he would only let me.'
+
+'He's a mischievous boy,' said the jester, 'and ill-natured too.'
+
+'Yes, isn't he?' she agreed admiringly; 'I like him for that. I fancy a duke or a guardsman must be something like him; they all had just his wicked black eyes and long restless fingers. It wouldn't be quite so dull if he would notice me a little; but he never will!'
+
+'He's going back to school next week,' the jester said rather cheerfully.
+
+'So soon!' sighed Ethelinda. 'There's hardly time for him to make a real heroine of me before that. How I wish he would! I shouldn't care how he did it, or what came of it. I'm sure I should enjoy it, and it would give me something to think about all my life.'
+
+'Say that again, my dainty little lady; say it again!' cried a harsh, jeering voice from beside them, 'and, if you really mean it, perhaps the old Sausage-Glutton can manage it for you. He's done more wonderful things than that in his time, I can tell you.'
+
+The voice came from an old German clock which stood on the mantelpiece, or rather, from a strange painted wooden figure which was part of it -- an ugly old man, who sat on the top with a plate of sausages on his knees, and a fork in one hand. Every minute he slowly forked up a sausage from the plate to his mouth, and swallowed it suddenly, while his lower jaw wagged, and his narrow eyes rolled as it went down in a truly horrible manner.
+
+The children had long since given him the name of 'Sausage-Glutton,' which he richly deserved. He was a sort of magician in his way, having so much clockwork in his inside, and he was spiteful and malicious, owing to the quantity of wooden sausages he bolted, which would have ruined anyone's digestion and temper.
+
+'Good gracious!' cried Ethelinda, with a start, 'who is that person?'
+
+'Somebody who can be a good kind friend to you, pretty lady, if you only give him leave. So you want some excitement here, do you? You want to be wicked, and interesting, and unfortunate, and all the rest of it, eh? And you'd like young Archibald (a nice boy that, by the way), you'd like him to give you a little romance? Well, then, he shall, and to-morrow too, hot and strong, if you like to say the word.'
+
+Ethelinda was too much fluttered to speak at first, and she was a little afraid of the old man, too, for he leered all round in such an odd way, and ate so fast and jerkily.
+
+'Don't -- oh, please don't!' cried a little squeaky voice above him. It came from a queer little angular doll, with gold-paper wings, a spangled muslin dress, and a wand with a tinsel star at the end of it, who was fastened up on the wall above a picture. 'You won't like it -- you won't, really!'
+
+'Don't trust him,' whispered the jester; 'he's a bad old man; he ruined a very promising young dancing nigger only the other day, unhinged him so that he will never hook on any more.'
+
+'Ha, ha!' laughed the Sausage-Glutton, as he disposed of another sausage, 'that old fellow in the peculiar coat is jealous, you know; he can't make a heroine of you, and so he doesn't want anyone else to. Who cares what he says? And as for our little wooden friend up above, well, I should hope a dainty duchess like you is not going to let herself be dictated to by a low jointed creature, who sets up for a fairy when she knows her sisters dance round white hats every Derby Day.'
+
+'They're not sisters; they're second cousins,' squeaked the poor Dutch doll, very much hurt, 'and they don't mean any harm by it; it's only their high spirits. And whatever you say, I'm a fairy. I had a Christmas-tree of my own once; but I had to leave it, it was so expensive to keep up. Now, you take my advice, my dear, do,' she added to Ethelinda, 'don't you listen to him. He'd give all his sausages to see you in trouble, he would; but he can't do anything unless you give him leave.'
+
+But of course it would have been a little too absurd if Ethelinda had taken advice from a flat-headed twopenny doll and a flabby jester from the Lowther Arcade. 'My good creatures,' she said to them, 'you mean well, no doubt, but pray leave this gentleman and me to settle our own affairs. Can you really get Master Archie to take some notice of me, sir?' she said to the figure on the clock.
+
+'I can, my loveliest,' he said.
+
+'And will it be exciting,' she asked, 'and romantic, and -- and just the least bit wicked, too?'
+
+'You shall be the very wickedest heroine in any nursery in the world,' he replied. 'Oh, dear me, how you will enjoy yourself!'
+
+'Then I accept,' said Ethelinda; 'I put myself quite in your hands -- I leave everything to you.'
+
+'That's right!' cried the Sausage-Glutton, 'that's a brave little beauty. It's a bargain, then? To-morrow afternoon the fun will begin, and then -- my springs and wheels -- what a time you will have of it! He, he! You look out for Archibald!'
+
+And then he trembled all over as the clock struck twelve, and went on eating his sausages without another word, while Ethelinda gave herself up to delightful anticipations of the wonderful adventures that were actually about to happen to her at last.
+
+But the jester felt very uneasy about it all; he felt so sure that the old Sausage-Glutton's amiability had some trickery underneath it.
+
+'You are a fairy, aren't you?' he said to the Dutch doll in a whisper; 'can't you do anything to help her?'
+
+'No,' she said sulkily; 'and if I could, I wouldn't. She has chosen to put herself in his power, and whatever comes of it will serve her right. I don't know what he means to do, and I can't stop him. Still, if I can't help her, I can help you; and you may want it, because he is sure to be angry with you for trying to warn her.'
+
+'But I never gave him leave to meddle with me,' said the jester.
+
+'Have you got sawdust or bran inside you, or what?' asked the fairy.
+
+'Neither,' he said; 'only the bellows I squeak with, and wire. But why?'
+
+'I was afraid so. It's only the dolls with sawdust or bran inside them that he can't do whatever he likes with without their consent. He can do anything he chooses with you; but he shan't hurt you this time, if you only take care -- for I'll grant you the very next thing you wish. Only do be careful now about wishing; don't be in a hurry and waste the wish. Wait till things are at their very worst.'
+
+'Thank you very much,' he said; 'I don't mind for myself so much, but I should like to prevent any harm from coming to her. I'll remember.'
+
+Then he bent towards Ethelinda and whispered: 'You didn't believe what the old man on the clock told you about me, did you? I'm not jealous -- I'm only a poor jester, and you're a great lady. But you'll let me sit by you, and you'll talk to me sometimes in the evenings as you did to-night, won't you?'
+
+But Ethelinda, though she heard him plainly, pretended to be fast asleep -- it was of no consequence to her whether he was jealous or not.
+
+* * * * *
+
+Winifred was sitting the next afternoon alone in her nursery, trying to play. She was a dear little girl about nine years old, with long, soft, brown hair, a straight little nose, and brown eyes which just then had a wistful, dissatisfied look in them -- for the fact was that, for some reason or other, she could not get on with her dolls at all.
+
+The jester was not good-looking enough for her; they had put his eyes in so carelessly, and his face had such a 'queer' look, and he was altogether a limp, unmanageable person. She always said to herself that she liked him 'for the sake of the giver,' poor clumsy, good-hearted Martha, the housemaid, who had left in disgrace, and presented him as her parting gift; but one might as well not be cared for at all as be liked in that roundabout way.
+
+And Ethelinda, beautiful and fashionable as she was, was not friendly, and Winifred never could get intimate with her; she felt afraid to treat her as a small child younger than herself, it seemed almost a liberty to nurse her, for Ethelinda seemed to be quite grown up and to know far more than she did herself.
+
+She sat there looking at Ethelinda, and Ethelinda stared back at her in a cold, distant way, as if she half remembered meeting her somewhere before. There was a fixed smile on her vermilion lips which seemed false and even a little contemptuous to poor lonely little Winifred, who thought it was hard that her own doll should despise her.
+
+The jester's smile was amiable enough, though it was rather meaningless, but then no one cared about him or how he smiled, as he lay unnoticed on his back in the corner.
+
+You would not have guessed it from their faces, but both dolls were really very much excited; each was thinking about the Sausage-Glutton and his vague promises, and wondering if, and how, those promises were to be carried out.
+
+The wooden magician himself was bolting his sausage a minute on the top of the clock just as usual, only the jester fancied his cunning eyes rolled round at them with a peculiar leer as a cheerful whistle was heard on the stairs outside.
+
+A moment afterwards a lively brown-faced boy in sailor dress put his head in at the door. 'Hullo, Winnie,' he said, 'are you all alone?'
+
+'Nurse has gone downstairs,' said Winnie, plaintively; 'I've got the dolls, but it's dull here somehow. Can't you come and help me to play, Archie?'
+
+Archie had been skating all the morning, and could not settle down just then to any of his favourite books, so he had come up to see Winnie with the idea of finding something to amuse him there -- for though he was a boy, he did unbend at times, so far as to help her in her games, out of which he managed to get a good deal of amusement in his own peculiar way.
+
+But of course he had to make a favour of it, and must not let Winifred see that it was anything but a sacrifice for him to consent.
+
+'I've got other things to do,' he said; 'and you know you always make a fuss when I do play with you. Look at last time!'
+
+'Ah, but then you played at being a slave-driver, Archie, and you made me sell you my old black Dinah for a slave, and then you tied her up and whipped her. I didn't like that game! But if you'll stay this time, I won't mind what else you do!'
+
+For Archie had a way of making the dolls go through exciting adventures, at which Winifred assisted with a fearful wonder that had a fascination about it.
+
+'Girls don't know how to play with dolls, and that's a fact,' said Archie. 'I could get more fun out of that dolls' house than a dozen girls could' (he would have set fire to it); 'but I tell you what: if you'll let me do exactly what I like, and don't go interfering, except when I tell you to, perhaps I will stay a little while -- not long, you know.'
+
+'I promise,' said Winifred, 'if you won't break anything. I'll do just what you tell me.'
+
+'Very well then, here goes; let's see who you've got. I say, who's this in the swell dress?'
+
+He was pointing to Ethelinda, whose brain began to tingle at once with a delicious excitement. 'He has noticed me at last,' she thought; 'I wonder if I could make him fall desperately in love with me!' and she turned her big blue eyes full upon him. 'Ah, if I could only speak -- but perhaps I shall presently. I'm quite sure the romance is going to begin!'
+
+'That's Ethelinda, Archie -- isn't she pretty?'
+
+'I've seen them uglier,' he said; 'she's like that Eve de Something we saw at Drury Lane -- we'll have her, and there's that chap in the fool's dress, we may want him. Now we're ready.'
+
+'What are you going to do with them, Archie?'
+
+'You leave that to me. I've an idea, something much better than your silly tea-parties.'
+
+'Why doesn't he tell that child to go?' thought Ethelinda, 'we don't want her!'
+
+'Now listen, Winifred,' said Archie: 'this is the game. You're a beautiful queen (only do sit up and take that finger out of your mouth -- queens don't do that). Well, and I'm the king, and this is your maid of honour, the beautiful Lady Ethelinda, see?'
+
+'Go on, Archie; I see,' cried Winifred; 'and I like it so far.'
+
+'I think I ought to have been the queen!' said Ethelinda to herself.
+
+'Well, now,' said the boy, 'I'll tell you something. This maid of honour of yours doesn't like you (don't say she does, now; I'm telling this, and I know). You watch her carefully. Can't you see a sort of look in her face as if she didn't think much of you?'
+
+'How clever he is,' thought Ethelinda; 'he knows exactly how I feel!'
+
+'Do you really think it's that, Archie?' said Winifred; 'it's just what I was afraid of before you came in.'
+
+'That's it. Look out for a kind of glare in her eye when I pay you any attention. (How does Your Majesty do? Well, I hope.) There, didn't you see it? Well, that's jealousy, that is. She hates you like anything!'
+
+'I'm sure she doesn't, then,' protested Winifred.
+
+'Oh, well, if you know better than I do, you can finish it for yourself. I'm going.'
+
+'No, no; do stay. I like it. I'll be good after this!'
+
+'Don't you interrupt again, then. Now the real truth is that she'd like to be queen instead of you; she's ambitious, you know -- that's what's the matter with her. And so she's got it into her head that if you were only out of the way, I should ask her to be the next queen!'
+
+Winifred could not say a word, she was so overcome by the idea of her doll's unkindness; and Archie took Ethelinda by the waist and brought her near her royal mistress as he said: 'Now you'll see how artful she is; she's coming to ask you if she may go out. Listen. "Please, Your Gracious Majesty, may I go out for a little while?"'
+
+'This is even better than if I spoke myself,' Ethelinda thought; 'he can talk for me, and I do believe I'm going to be quite wicked presently.'
+
+'Am I to speak to her, Archie?' Winifred asked, feeling a little nervous.
+
+'Of course you are. Go on; don't be silly; give her leave.'
+
+'Certainly, Ethelinda, if you wish it,' replied Winifred, with a happy recollection of her mother's manner on somewhat similar occasions, 'but I should like you to be in to prayers.'
+
+'A maid of honour isn't the same as a housemaid, you know,' said Archie; 'but never mind -- she's off. You don't see where she goes, of course.'
+
+'Yes I do,' said Winifred.
+
+'Ah, but not in the game; nobody does. She goes to the apothecary's -- here's the apothecary.' And he caught hold of the jester, who thought helplessly, 'I'm being brought into it now; I wish he'd let me alone -- I don't like it!' 'Well, so she says, "Oh, if you please, Mr. Apothecary, I want some arsenic to kill the royal blackbeetles with; not much -- a pound or two will be plenty." So he takes down a jar (here Archie got up and fetched a big bottle of citrate of magnesia from a cupboard), 'and he weighs it out, and wraps it up, and gives it to her. And he says, "You'll mind and be very careful with it, my lady. The dose is one pinch in a teaspoonful of treacle to each blackbeetle, the last thing at night; but it oughtn't to be left about in places." And so Lady Ethelinda takes it home and hides it.'
+
+'I've bought some poison now,' thought Ethelinda, immensely delighted, 'I am a wicked doll! How convenient it is to have it all done for one like this! I do hope he's going to make me give Winifred some of that stuff, to get her out of the way, and have the romance all to our two selves.'
+
+'Now you and I,' Archie continued, 'haven't the least idea of all this. But one day, the Court jester ('I was an apothecary just now,' thought the jester; 'it's really very confusing!') -- the Court jester comes up, looking very grave, and sneaks of her. The reason of that is that he's angry with her because she never will have anything to do with him, and he says that he's seen her folding up a powder in paper and writing on it, and he thought I ought to be told about it.' ('This is awful,' thought the jester. 'What will Ethelinda think of me for telling tales? and what has come to Ethelinda? It's all that miserable Sausage-Glutton's doing -- and I can't help myself!')
+
+'Well, I'm very much surprised of course,' said Archie; 'any king would be -- but I wait, and one day, when she has gone out for a holiday, the jester and I go to her desk and break it open.'
+
+'Oh, Archie,' objected the poor little Queen in despair, 'isn't that rather mean of you?'
+
+'Now look here, Winnie, I can't have this sort of thing every minute. For a gentleman, it might be rather mean, perhaps, but then I'm a king, and I've got a right to do it, and it's all for your sake, too -- so you can't say anything. Besides, it's the jester does it; I only look on. Well, and by-and-by,' said Archie, as he scribbled something laboriously on a piece of paper, 'by-and-by he finds this!'
+
+And with imposing gravity he handed Winifred a folded paper, on which she read with real terror and grief the alarming words -- 'Poisin for the Queen!'
+
+'There, what do you think of that?' he asked triumphantly; 'looks bad, doesn't it?'
+
+'Perhaps,' suggested the Queen feebly, 'perhaps it was only in fun?'
+
+'Fun -- there's not much fun about her! Now the guard' (here he used the bewildered jester once more) 'arrests her. Do you want to ask the prisoner any questions? -- you can if you like.'
+
+'You -- you didn't mean to poison me really, did you, Ethelinda dear?' said Winifred, who was taking it all very seriously, as she took most things. 'Archie, do make her say something!'
+
+'Why can't you answer when the Queen asks you a question, eh?' demanded Archie. 'No, she won't say a word; she'll only grin at you; you see she's quite hardened. There's only one thing that would make her confess,' he added cautiously, aware that he was on rather delicate ground, 'and that's the torture. I could make a beautiful rack, Winnie, if you didn't mind?'
+
+'Whatever she's done,' said the Queen, firmly, 'I'm not going to have her tortured! And I believe she's sorry inside and wants me to forgive her!'
+
+'Then why doesn't she say so?' said Archie. 'No, no, Winnie. Look here, this is a serious thing, you know; it won't do to pass it over; it's high treason, and she'll have to be tried.'
+
+'But I don't want her tried,' said Winifred.
+
+'Oh, very well then; I had better go downstairs again and read. The best part was all coming, but if you don't care, I'm sure I don't!'
+
+'Little idiot!' thought Ethelinda angrily, 'she'll spoil the whole thing; every heroine has to be tried!'
+
+But Winnie gave in, as she usually did, to Archie. 'Well, then, she shall be tried if you really think she ought to be, Archie; it won't hurt her though, will it?'
+
+'Of course it won't; it's all right. Now for the trial: here's the court, and here's a place for the judge' (he built it all up with books and bricks as he spoke); 'here's the dock -- stick Lady What's-her-name inside -- that's it. We must do without a jury, but I suppose we ought to have a judge; oh, this fellow will do for judge!'
+
+And he seized the jester and raised him to the Bench at once. The jester was more puzzled than ever. 'Now I'm a judge,' he thought, 'I shall have to try her; but I'm glad of it -- I'll let her off!'
+
+But unluckily he very soon found that he had no voice at all in the matter, except what Archie chose to lend him.
+
+'Oh, but Archie,' said Winifred, who was determined to defeat the ends of justice if she possibly could, 'can a jester be a judge?'
+
+'Why not?' said Archie; 'judges make jokes sometimes -- I've heard papa say so, and he's a barrister, and ought to know.'
+
+'But this one doesn't make real jokes!' persisted Winifred.
+
+'Who asked him to? Judges are not obliged to make jokes, Winnie. I believe you are trying to get her off, but I'm going to see justice done, I tell you. So now then, Lady Ethelinda, you are charged with high treason and trying to poison Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Winifred Gladys Robertson, by putting arsenic in Her Majesty's tea. Guilty or not guilty! Speak up!'
+
+'Not guilty!' put in Winifred quickly, thinking that would settle the whole trial comfortably. 'There, Archie, you can't say she didn't speak that time!'
+
+'Now, you have done it!' Archie said triumphantly. 'If she'd confessed, we might have shown mercy. Now we shall have to prove it, and if we do I'm sorry for her, that's all!'
+
+'If she says "Guilty, and she won't do it again!"' suggested Winifred.
+
+'It's too late for that now,' said Archie, who was not going to have his trial cut short in that way: 'no, we must prove it.'
+
+'But how are you going to prove it?'
+
+'You wait. I've been in court once or twice with papa, and seen him prove all sorts of things. First, we must have in the fellow who sold the poison -- the apothecary, you know. Oh, I say, though, I forgot that -- he's the judge; that won't do!'
+
+'Then you can't prove it after all -- I'm so glad!' cried the Queen, with her eyes sparkling.
+
+'One would think you rather liked being poisoned,' said Archie, in an offended tone.
+
+'I like magnesia, and it isn't poison, really -- it's medicine.'
+
+'It isn't magnesia now; it's arsenic; and she shan't get off like this. I'll call the apothecary's young man, he'll prove it (this brick is the apothecary's young man). There, he says it's all right; she did it right enough. Now for the sentence! (put a penwiper on the judge's head, will you, Winnie; it's solemner).'
+
+'What's a sentence?' asked Winifred, much disturbed at these ill-omened arrangements.
+
+'You'll see; this is the judge talking now: "Lady Ethelinda, you've been found guilty of very bad conduct; you've put arsenic in your beloved Queen's tea!"'
+
+'Why, I haven't had tea yet!' protested the Sovereign.
+
+"Her Majesty is respectfully ordered not to interrupt the judge when he's summing up; it puts him out. Well, as I was saying, Lady Ethelinda, I'm sorry to tell you that we shall have to cut your head off!"'
+
+'What have I done?' thought the jester; 'she'll think I'm in earnest; she'll never forgive me!'
+
+But Ethelinda was perfectly delighted, for not one of her heroines had ever been in such a romantic position as this. 'And of course,' she thought, 'it will all come right in the end; it always does.'
+
+Winifred, however, was terrified by the sternness of the court: 'Archie,' she cried, 'she mustn't have her head cut off.'
+
+'It will be all right, Winnie, if you will only leave it to me and not interfere. You promised not to interrupt, and yet you will keep on doing it!'
+
+Archie's head was full of executions just then, for he had been reading 'The Tower of London;' he had been artfully leading up to an execution from the very first, and he meant to have his own way.
+
+But first he amused himself by working upon Winifred's feelings, which was a bad habit of his on these occasions. To do him justice, he did not know how keenly she felt things, and how soon she forgot it was only pretence; it flattered him to see how easily he could make Winifred cry about nothing, and he never guessed what real pain he was giving her.
+
+'Winnie,' he began very dolefully, 'she's in prison now, languishing in her prison cell, and do you know, I rather think her heart's beginning to soften a little: she wants you to come and see her. You won't refuse her last request, Winnie, will you?'
+
+'As if I could!' cried Winifred, full of the tenderest compassion.
+
+'Very well then; this is the last meeting. "My dear kind mistress" (it's Ethelinda speaking to you now), "that I once loved so dearly in the happy days when I was innocent and good, I couldn't die till I had asked you to forgive me. Let your poor wicked maid-of-honour kiss your hand just once more as she used to do; tell her you forgive her about that arsenic." Now then, Winnie!'
+
+'I -- I can't, Archie!' sobbed Winifred, quite melted by this pathetic appeal.
+
+'If you don't, she'll think you're angry still, and won't forgive her,' said Archie. 'Just you listen; this is her now: "Won't you say one little word, Your Majesty; you might as well. When I'm gone and mouldering away in my felon's grave it will be too late then, and you'll be sorry. It's the last thing I shall ever ask you!"'
+
+'Oh, Ethelinda, darling, don't!' implored her Queen; 'don't go on talking in that dreadful way; I can't bear it. Archie, I must forgive her now!'
+
+'Oh yes, forgive her,' he said with approval; 'queens shouldn't sulk or bear malice.'
+
+'It's all right,' said Winifred briskly, as she dried her eyes; 'she's quite good again. Now let's play at something not quite so horrid!'
+
+'When we've done with this, we will; but it isn't half over yet; there's all the execution to come. It's the fatal day now, the dismal scaffold is erected' (here he made a rough platform and a neat little block with the books), 'the sheriff is mounting guard over it' (and Archie propped up the unfortunate jester against a workbox so that he overlooked the scaffold); 'the trembling criminal is brought out amidst the groans of the populace (groan, Winnie, can't you?)'
+
+'I shan't groan,' said Winnie, rebelliously; 'I'm a queen, not a populace. Archie, you won't really cut off her head, will you?'
+
+'Don't be a little duffer,' said he; 'the end is to be a surprise, so I can't tell you what it is till it comes. You've heard of pardons arriving just in time, haven't you? Very well then. Only I don't say one will arrive here, you know, I only say, wait!'
+
+'And now,' he went on, 'I'm not the King any longer, I'm the headsman; and -- and I say, Winnie, perhaps you'd better hide your face now; a queen wouldn't look on at the execution, really; at least a nice queen wouldn't!'
+
+So Winifred hid her face in her hands obediently, very glad to be spared even the pretence of an execution, and earnestly wishing Archie was near the end of this uncomfortable game.
+
+But Archie was just beginning to enjoy himself: 'The wretched woman,' he announced with immense unction, 'is led tottering to the block, and then the headsman, very respectfully, cuts off some of her beautiful golden hair, so that it shouldn't get in his way.'
+
+At this point I am sorry to say that Archie, in the wish to have everything as real as possible, actually did snip off a good part of Ethelinda's flossy curls. Luckily for him, his cousin was too conscientious and unsuspecting to peep through her fingers, and never imagined that the scissors she heard were really cutting anything -- she even kept her eyes shut while Archie hunted about the room for something, which he found out at last, and which was a sword in a red tin scabbard.
+
+Till then Archie was not quite sure what he really meant to do; at first he had fancied that it would be enough for him just to touch Ethelinda lightly with the sword, but now (whether the idea had been put in his head by the Sausage Glutton, or whether it had been there somewhere all the time) he began to think how easily the sharp blade would cleave Ethelinda's soft wax neck, and how he could hold up the severed head by the hair, just like the executioner in the pictures, and say solemnly, 'This is the head of a traitress!'
+
+He knew of course that it would get him into terrible trouble, and he ought to have known that it would be mean and cowardly of him to take advantage of his poor little cousin's trust in him to deceive her.
+
+But he did not stop to think of that; the temptation was too strong for him; he had gone so far in cutting off her hair that he might just as well cut off her head too.
+
+So that presently Ethelinda found herself lying helpless, with her hands tied behind her, and her close-cropped head placed on a thick book, while Archie stood over her with a cruel gleam in his eyes, and flourished a flashing sword.
+
+'I ought to be masked though,' he said suddenly, 'or I might be recognised -- executioners had to be masked. I'll tie a handkerchief over my eyes and that will have to do.'
+
+And when he had done this, he began to measure the distance with his eye, and to make some trial cuts to be quite sure of his aim, for he meant to get the utmost possible enjoyment out of it.
+
+Ethelinda began to be terribly frightened. Being a heroine was not nearly so pleasant as she had expected. It had cost her most of her beautiful hair already: was it going to cost her her head as well?
+
+Too late, she began to see how foolish she had been, and that even make-believe tea-parties were better than this. She longed to be held safe in tender-hearted little Winifred's arms.
+
+But Winifred's eyes were shut tight, and would not be opened till -- till all was over. Ethelinda could not move, could not cry out to her, she was quite helpless, and all the time the wicked old man on the clock went on steadily swallowing sausage after sausage, as if he had nothing at all to do with it!
+
+The jester was even more alarmed for Ethelinda than she was herself; he was quite certain that Winifred was being wickedly deceived, and that the pardon so cunningly suggested would never come.
+
+In another minute this dainty little lady, with the sweet blue eyes and disdainful smile, would be gone from him for ever; and there was no hope for her, -- none!
+
+And the bitterest thing about it was, that, although he was a great deal confused, as he very well might be, as to how it had all come about, he knew that in some way, he himself had taken part (or rather several parts) in bringing her to this shameful end, and the poor jester, innocent as he was, fancied that her big eyes had a calm scorn and reproach in them as she looked up at him sideways from the block.
+
+'What shall I do without her?' he thought; 'how can I bear it. Ah, I ought to be lying there -- not she. I wish I could take her place!'
+
+All this time Archie had been lingering -- he lingered so long that Winifred lost all patience. 'Do make haste, Archie,' she said, with a little shudder that shook the table. 'I can't bear it much longer; I shall have to open my eyes!'
+
+'It was only the mask got in my way,' he said. 'Now I'm ready. One, two, three!'
+
+And then there was a whistling swishing sound, followed by a heavy thud, and a flop.
+
+After that Archie very prudently made for the door. 'I -- I couldn't help it, really, Winnie,' he stammered, as she put her hands down with relief and looked about, rather dazzled at first by the sudden light. 'I'll save up and buy you another twice as pretty. And you know you said Ethelinda didn't seem to care about you!'
+
+'Stop, Archie, what do you mean? Did you think you'd cut her head off really!'
+
+'Haven't I?' said Archie, stupidly. 'I cut something's head off; I saw it go!'
+
+'Then you did mean it! And, oh, it's the jester! I wouldn't have minded it so much, if you hadn't meant it for Ethelinda! And, Archie, you cruel, bad boy -- you've cut -- cut all her beautiful hair off, and I sat here and let you! She's not pretty at all now -- it's a shame, it is a shame!'
+
+Ethelinda had had a wonderful escape, and this is how it had happened:
+
+The jester had been so anxious about Ethelinda that he had forgotten all about the fairy, and how she had granted him his very next wish; but she, being a fairy, had to remember it. If he had only thought of it, it would have been just as easy to wish Ethelinda safe without any harm coming to himself, but he had wished 'to take her place,' and the fairy, whether she liked it or not, was obliged to keep her promise.
+
+So the little shake which Winifred had given the table was enough to make Ethelinda roll quietly over the edge of the platform, and the jester, who never was very firm on his legs, fall forward on his face the next moment, exactly where she had lain -- and either the fairy or the handkerchief over his face prevented Archie from finding out the exchange in time.
+
+Archie tried to defend himself: 'I think she looks better with her hair cut short,' he said; 'lots of girls wear it like that. And, don't you see, Winnie, this has been a plot got up by the jester; Ethelinda was innocent all the time, and he's just nicely caught in his own trap.... That -- that's the surprise!'
+
+'I don't believe you one bit!' said Winifred. 'You had no business to cut even my jester's head off, but you meant to do much worse! I won't play with you any more, and I shan't forgive you till the very day you go back to school!'
+
+'But, Winnie,' protested Archie, looking rather sheepish and ashamed of himself.
+
+'Go away directly,' said Winnie, stamping her foot; 'I don't want to listen; leave me alone!'
+
+So Archie went, not sorry, now, that an accident had kept him from doing his worst, and feeling tolerably certain that he would be able to make his cousin relent long before the time she had fixed, while Winifred, left to herself again, was so absorbed in sobbing over Ethelinda's sad disfigurement, that she quite forgot to pick up the split halves of the jester's head which were lying on the nursery floor.
+
+* * * * *
+
+That night Ethelinda had the chest of drawers all to herself, and the old Sausage Glutton grinned savagely at her from the mantelpiece, for he was disappointed at the way in which his plans had turned out.
+
+'Good evening,' he began, with one of his nastiest sneers. 'And how are you after your little romance, eh? Master Archie very nearly had your pretty little empty head off -- but of course I couldn't allow that. I hope you enjoyed yourself?'
+
+'I did at first,' said Ethelinda; 'I got frightened afterwards, when I thought it wasn't going to end at all nicely. But did you notice how very wickedly that dreadful jester behaved to me -- it will be a warning to me against associating with such persons in future, and I assure you that there was something about him that made me shudder from the very first! I have heard terrible things about the dolls in the Lowther Arcade, and what can you expect at such prices? Well, he's rewarded for his crimes, and that's a comfort to think of -- but it has all upset me very much indeed, and I don't want any more romance -- it does shorten the hair so!'
+
+The Dutch fairy doll heard her and was very angry, for she knew of course why the jester had come to a tragic ending.
+
+'Shall I tell her now, and make her ashamed and sorry -- would she believe me? would she care? Perhaps not, but I must speak out some time -- only I had better wait till the clock has stopped. I can't bear her to talk about that poor jester in this way.'
+
+But it really did not matter to the jester, who could hear or feel nothing any more -- for they had thrown him into the dustbin, where, unless the dustcart has called since, he is lying still.
+
+AN UNDERGRADUATE'S AUNT.
+
+[Illustration: F]
+
+Francis Flushington belonged to a small college, and by becoming a member conferred upon it one of the few distinctions it could boast -- the possession of the very bashfulest man in the whole university.
+
+But his college did not treat him with any excess of adulation on that account, and, probably from a prudent fear of rubbing the bloom off his modesty, allowed him to blush unseen -- which was indeed the condition in which he preferred to blush.
+
+He felt himself distressed in the presence of his fellow men, by a dearth of ideas and a difficulty in knowing which way to look, that made him happiest when he had fastened his outer door, and secured himself from all possibility of intrusion -- although this was almost an unnecessary precaution on his part, for nobody ever thought of coming to see Flushington.
+
+In appearance he was a man of middle height, with a long neck and a large head, which gave him the air of being shorter than he really was; he had little weak eyes which were always blinking, a nose and mouth of no particular shape, and hair of no definite colour, which he wore long -- not because he thought it becoming, but because he hated having to talk to his hairdresser.
+
+He had a timid deprecating manner, due to the consciousness that he was an uninteresting anomaly, and he certainly was as impervious to the ordinary influences of his surroundings as any modern under-graduate could well be.
+
+Flushington had never particularly wanted to be sent to Cambridge, and when he was there he did not enjoy it, and had not the faintest hope of distinguishing himself in anything; he lived a colourless, aimless sort of life in his little sloping rooms under the roof where he read every morning from nine till two with a superstitious regularity, even when his books failed to convey any ideas whatever to his brain, which was not a remarkably powerful organ.
+
+If the afternoon was fine, he generally sought out his one friend, who was a shade less shy than himself, and they went a monosyllabic walk together (for of course Flushington did not row, or take up athletics in any form); if it was wet, he read the papers and magazines at the Union, and in the evenings after hall, he studied 'general literature' -- a graceful periphrasis for novels -- or laboriously picked out a sonata or a nocturne upon his piano, a habit which had not tended to increase his popularity.
+
+Fortunately for Flushington, he had no gyp, or his life would have been a burden to him, and with his bedmaker he was rather a favourite, as a 'gentleman what gave no trouble' -- which meant that when he observed his sherry sinking like the water in a lock when the sluices are up, he was too delicate to refer to the phenomenon in any way.
+
+One afternoon when Flushington was engaged over his modest luncheon of bread and butter, potted meat, and lemonade, he suddenly became aware of a sound of unusual voices and a strange flutter of female dresses on the winding stone staircase outside -- and was instantly overcome with a cold dread.
+
+Now, although there were certainly ladies coming upstairs, there was no reason for alarm; they were probably friends of the man who kept opposite, and was always having his people up. But Flushington had one of those odd presentiments, so familiar to nervous persons, that something unpleasant was at hand; he could not imagine who these ladies might be, but he knew instinctively that they were coming to him!
+
+If he could only be sure that his outer oak was safely latched! He rose from his chair with wild ideas of rushing to see, of retreating to his bedroom, and hiding under the bed until they had gone.
+
+Too late! the dresses were rustling now in his very passage; there was a pause evidently before his inner door, a few faint and smothered laughs, some little feminine coughs, then -- two taps.
+
+Flushington stood still for a moment, feeling like a caged animal; he had thoughts, even then, of concealment -- was there time to get under the sofa? No, it would be too dreadful if the visitors, whoever they were, were to discover him in so unusual a situation.
+
+So he ran back to his chair and sat down before crying 'Come in' in a faint voice. He did wish he had been reading anything but the work of M. Zola, which was propped up in front of him, but there was no time to put it away.
+
+Your mild man often has a taste for seeing the less reputable side of life in a safe and second-hand way, and Flushington would toil manfully through the most realistic descriptions without turning a hair; now and then he looked out a word in the dictionary, and when it was not to be found there -- and it generally wasn't -- he had a sense almost of injury. But there was a strong fascination for him in experiencing the sensation of a kind of intellectual orgie, for he knew enough of the language to be aware that the incidents frequently bordered on the improper, even while it was not exactly clear in what the impropriety consisted.
+
+As he said 'Come in,' the door opened, and his heart seemed to stop, and all the blood in it rushed violently up to his head, as a large lady came sweeping in, her face rippling with a broad smile of affection.
+
+She horrified Flushington, who knew nobody with the smallest claim to smile at him so expansively as that, and he drank lemonade to conceal his confusion.
+
+'You don't know me, my dear Frank,' she said easily; 'why of course you don't; how should you? Well, I'm (for goodness sake, my dear boy, don't look so dreadfully frightened, I don't want to eat you!) I'm your aunt -- your Aunt Amelia, you know me now -- from Australia, you know!'
+
+This was a severe shock to Flushington, who had not even known he possessed such a relative anywhere; all he could say just then was, 'Oh, are you?' which he felt at the time was not quite the welcome to give an aunt who had come all the way from the Antipodes.
+
+'Yes, that I am!' she said cheerily, 'but that's not all. I've another surprise for you -- the dear girls would insist upon coming up too, to see their grand college cousin; they're just outside. I'll call them in, shall I?'
+
+And in another second Flushington's small room was overrun by a horde of female relatives, while he could only look on and gasp.
+
+They were pretty girls too, most of them, but that only frightened him more; he did not mind plain women half so much; some of them looked bright and clever as well, and a combination of beauty and intellect always reduced him to a condition of hopeless imbecility.
+
+He had never forgotten one occasion on which he had been captured and introduced to a charming young lady from Newnham, and all he could do was to back feebly into a corner, murmuring 'Thank you' repeatedly.
+
+He showed himself to scarcely more advantage now, as his aunt proceeded to single out one girl after another. 'We needn't have any formal nonsense between cousins,' she said; 'you know all their names already, I dare say. This is Milly, and that's Jane; and here's Flora, and Kitty, and Margaret, and this is my little Thomasina, keeping close to mamma, as usual.'
+
+Poor Flushington ducked blindly in the various directions at the mention of each name, and then collectively to all; he had not sufficient presence of mind to offer them chairs, or cake, or anything, and besides, there was not nearly enough for that multitude.
+
+Meanwhile his aunt had spread herself comfortably out in his only arm-chair, and was untying her bonnet-strings, while she beamed at him until he was ready to expire with embarrassment. 'I do think, Frankie dear,' she observed at last, 'that when an old auntie all the way from Australia takes the trouble to come and see you like this, the least -- the very least you could do would be to give her one little kiss.'
+
+She seemed so hurt by the omission, that Flushington dared not refuse; he staggered up and kissed her somewhere upon her face -- after which he did not know which way to look, so terribly afraid was he that the same ceremony might have to be gone through with all the cousins, and he could not have survived that.
+
+Happily for him, however, they did not appear to expect it, and he balanced a chair on its hind legs and, resting one knee upon it, waited for them to begin a conversation, for he could not think of a single apposite remark himself.
+
+His aunt came to his rescue. 'You don't ask after your Uncle Samuel -- have you forgotten all the beetles and things he used to send you?' she said reprovingly.
+
+'No,' said Flushington, to whom Uncle Samuel was another revelation. 'How is the beetle -- I mean, how is Uncle Samuel? Quite well, I hope?'
+
+'Only tolerably so, Frank, thank you; as well as could be expected after his loss.'
+
+'I didn't hear of that,' said Flushington, catching at this conversational rope in despair. 'Was it -- did he lose much?'
+
+'I was not referring to a money loss,' she said, and her glance was stony for the moment; 'I was (as I think you might have guessed) referring to the death of your cousin John.'
+
+And Flushington, who had begun to feel his first agonies abating, had a terrible relapse at this unhappy mistake; he stammered something about it being very sad indeed, and then, wondering why no one had ever kept him better posted as to his relations, he resolved that he would not betray his ignorance by any further inquiries.
+
+But his aunt was evidently wounded afresh. 'I ought to have known,' she said, and shook her head pathetically; 'they soon forget us when we leave the old country -- and yet I did think, too, my own sister's son would remember his cousin's death! Well, well, my loves, we must teach him to know us better now we have the opportunity. Frankie dear, the girls and I expect you to take us about everywhere and show us all the sights; or what's the use of having a nephew at Cambridge University, you know.'
+
+Flushington had a horrible mental vision of himself careering all over Cambridge at the head of a long procession of female relatives, a fearful prospect for so shy a man. 'Shall you be here long?' he asked.
+
+'Oh, only a week or so; we're at the "Bull," very near you; and so we can always be popping in on you. And now, Frankie, my boy, will you think your aunt a very bold beggar if she asks you to give us a little something to eat? We wouldn't wait for lunch, the dear children were so impatient, and we're all ravenous! We all thought, the girls and I (didn't you, dears?) that it would be such fun lunching with a real college student in his own room.'
+
+'Oh,' protested Flushington, 'I assure you there's nothing so extraordinary in it, and -- and the fact is, I'm afraid there's very little for you to eat, and the kitchens and the buttery are closed by this time.' He said this at a venture, for he felt quite unequal to facing the college cook and ordering lunch from that tremendous personage -- he would far rather order it from his tutor even.
+
+'But,' he added, touched by the little cry of disappointment which the girls made in spite of themselves, 'if you don't mind potted ham -- there's some left in the bottom of this tin, and there's some bread and an inch of butter, and a little marmalade and a few milk biscuits -- and there was some sherry this morning!'
+
+His cousins declared merrily that they were so hungry they would enjoy anything, and so they sat round the table and poor Flushington served out meagre rations to them of all the provisions he could hunt up, even to his figs and his French plums. It was like a shipwreck, he thought drearily. There was not nearly enough to go round, and they lunched with evident disillusionment, thinking that the college luxury of which they had heard so much had been sadly exaggerated.
+
+During the meal the aunt began to study Flushington's features with affectionate interest. 'There's a strong look of poor dear Simon about him when he smiles,' she said, looking at him through her gold double-glasses. 'There, did you catch it, girls? Just his mother's profile! Turn your face a leetle more to the window; I want to get the light on your nose, Frankie; now don't you see the likeness to your aunt's portrait at Gumtree Creek, girls?'
+
+And Flushington had to sit still with all the girls' charming eyes fixed critically upon his crimson countenance, until he would have given worlds to be able to slide down under the table and evade them, but of course he was obliged to remain above.
+
+'He's got dear Caroline's nose!' the aunt announced triumphantly, and the cousins were agreed that he certainly had Caroline's nose -- which made him feel vaguely that he ought at least to offer to return it.
+
+Presently the youngest and prettiest of the girls whispered to her mother, who laughed indulgently. 'Why, you baby,' she said, 'what do you think this silly child wants me to ask you, Frankie? She says she would so like to see how you look in your college robes and that odd four-cornered hat you all wear. Will you put them on, just to please her?'
+
+And he had to put them on and walk slowly up and down the room in his cap and gown, feeling all the time that he was making a dismal display of himself, and that the girls were plainly disappointed, for they admitted that somehow they had fancied the academical costume would have been more becoming.
+
+After this came a hotly-sustained catechism upon his studies, his amusements, his friends, and his mode of life generally, and the aunt -- who by this time felt the potted ham beginning to disagree with her -- seemed to be unfavourably impressed by the answers she obtained.
+
+This was particularly the case when to the question 'what church he attended,' he replied that he attended none, as he was always regular at chapel: for the aunt was disappointed to find her nephew a Dissenter, and said as much; while Flushington, though he saw the misunderstanding, was far too shy and too miserable to explain it.
+
+The cousins by this time were clustered together, whispering and laughing over little private jokes, and he, after the manner of sensitive men, of course concluded they were laughing at him, and perhaps on this occasion he was not mistaken.
+
+He stood by the fireplace, growing hotter and hotter every second, inwardly cursing his whole race, and wishing that his father had been a foundling. What would he have to do next? take all his people out for a walk. He trembled at the idea. He would have to pass through the court with them, under the eyes of the men who were loitering about the grass plots before going down to the boats; through the open window he could hear their voices, and the clash they made as they fenced with walking-sticks.
+
+As he stood there, dumb and miserable, he heard another tap at his door -- a feeble one this time.
+
+'Why,' cried his aunt, 'that must be poor old Sophy at last -- you may not remember old Sophy, Frankie; you were quite a baby when she came out to us; but she remembers you, and begged so hard to be allowed to come and see you. Don't keep her standing outside. Come in, Sophy; it's quite right; Master Frankie is here!'
+
+And at this a very old person in a black bonnet came in, and was overcome by emotion at the first sight of Flushington. 'To think,' she quavered, 'to think as my dim old eyes should live to see the child I've dandled times and again on my lap growed out into a college gentleman!' Whereupon she hugged Flushington respectfully, and wept copiously upon his shoulder, which made him almost cataleptic.
+
+But as she grew calmer, she became more critical, even confessing a certain feeling of disappointment with Flushington. He had not filled out, she declared, so fine as he'd promised to fill out. And when she began to drag up reminiscences of his early youth, asking if he recollected how he wouldn't be washed unless they first put his little spotted wooden horse on the washstand, and how they had to bribe him with a penny trumpet to take his castor oil, and how fond he used to be of senna tea, Flushington felt that he must seem more of a fool than ever!
+
+This was quite bad enough, but at last the girls began to be restless, and there being no efforts made to entertain them, amused themselves by exploring their cousin's rooms and exclaiming at everything they saw; admiring his pipes and his umbrella rack, his buffalo horns and his tin heraldic shields, and his quaint wooden kettle-holder, until they came round to his French novel, and, as they were healthy-minded Colonial girls, with a limited knowledge of Parisian literature, they pounced upon it directly, and wanted Flushington to tell them what it was all about.
+
+'Yes, Frankie, tell us,' the aunt struck in as he faltered; 'I'm always glad for the girls to know of any nice foreign works, as they've really improved wonderfully in their French lately.'
+
+There are French novels, no doubt, of which it would be practicable and pleasant to give a general idea to one's aunt, but they are not numerous, and this particular book did not chance to be one of them.
+
+So this demand threw him into a cold perspiration; he had not presence of mind to prevaricate or invent, and he would probably have committed himself in some deplorable manner, if just at that moment there had not happened to come another tap at the door, or rather a sharp rattle, as if with the end of something wooden.
+
+Flushington's head swam with horror at this third interruption; he was prepared for anything now -- another aunt, say from Greenland's icy mountains, or India's coral strand, with a fresh relay of female cousins, or a staff of aged family retainers who had washed him in early infancy: he sat there cowering.
+
+But when the door opened, a tall, fair, good-looking young fellow in a boating-straw and flannels, and carrying a tennis racket, burst impulsively in. 'Oh, I say,' he began, 'you don't happen to have heard or seen anything of -- oh, beg pardon, didn't see, you know,' he added, as he noticed the extraordinary fact that Flushington had people up.
+
+'Oh -- er -- let me introduce you,' said Flushington, with a vague notion that this was the right thing to do; 'Mr. Lushington -- Mrs. (no, I don't know her name) -- my aunt ... my cousins!'
+
+The young man, who had just been about to retire, bowed and stared with sudden surprise. 'Do you know,' he said slowly in an undertone to the other, 'do you know that I can't help fancying there's some mistake -- are you sure that's not my aunt you've got hold of there?'
+
+'Oh,' whispered Flushington, catching at this unexpected hope, 'do you really think so? She seems so certain she belongs to me!'
+
+'Well,' said the new-comer, 'I only know I have an aunt and cousins I've never seen who were coming up some time this week -- do these ladies happen to come from the Colonies, by the way?'
+
+'Yes, yes!' cried Flushington, eagerly; 'it's all right, they belong to you; and, I say, do take them away; I can't bear it any longer!'
+
+'Now, now, what's this whispering, Frankie?' cried the aunt; 'not very polite, I must say!'
+
+'He says,' explained Flushington, 'he says it's all a mistake, and -- and you're not my aunt at all!'
+
+'Oh, indeed, does he?' she replied, drawing herself together with dignity; 'and may I ask who is this gentleman who knows so much about our family -- I didn't catch the name?'
+
+'My name is Lushington -- Frank Lushington,' he said.
+
+'Then -- who are you?' she demanded, turning upon the unfortunate owner of the rooms; 'answer me, I insist upon it!'
+
+'Me?' he stammered, 'I'm Francis Flushington. I -- I'm very sorry -- but I can't help it!'
+
+'Why -- why -- then you're no nephew of mine, sir!' cried the aunt.
+
+'Thank you very much,' said Flushington, with positive gratitude.
+
+'But,' she said, 'I want to know why I have been allowed to deceive myself in this way. Perhaps, sir, you will kindly explain?'
+
+'What's the good of asking me?' protested Flushington; 'I haven't an idea why!'
+
+'I think I see,' put in her genuine nephew; 'you see, there isn't much light on the staircase outside, and you must have taken the "Flushington" over his oak to be "F. Lushington," and gone straight in, you know. They told me at the lodge that some ladies had been asking for me, and so when I didn't find you in my rooms, I thought I'd look in here on the chance -- and here you all are, eh?'
+
+But the aunt was annoyed to find that she had been pouring out all her pent-up affection over a perfect stranger, and had eaten his lunch into the bargain. She almost feared she had put herself in a slightly ridiculous position, and this, of course, made her feel very angry with Flushington.
+
+'Yes, yes, yes!' she said excitedly, 'that's all very well; but why did he deliberately encourage me in my mistake?'
+
+'How was I to know it was a mistake?' pleaded Flushington. 'You told me you were my aunt from Australia; for all I know Australia may be overrun with my aunts. I supposed you knew best.'
+
+'But you asked affectionately after Samuel,' she persisted; 'you must have had some object in humouring my mistake.'
+
+'You told me to ask after him, and I did,' said Flushington; 'what else could I do?'
+
+'No, sir,' she said, rising in her wrath; 'it was a most ungentlemanly and heartless practical joke on your part, and -- and I shall not listen to further excuses.'
+
+'Oh, good gracious!' Flushington almost whimpered; 'a practical joke! me, oh, it really is too bad!'
+
+'My dear aunt,' Lushington assured her, 'he's quite incapable of such a thing; it's a mistake on both sides; he wouldn't wish to intercept another fellow's aunt.'
+
+'I wouldn't do such a thing for worlds!' protested Flushington, sincerely enough; he would not have robbed a fellow creature of a single relation of the remotest degree; and as for carrying off an aunt and a complete set of female cousins, he would have blushed (and, in fact, did blush) at the bare suspicion.
+
+The cousins themselves had been laughing and whispering together all this time, regarding their new relation with shy admiration, very different from the manner in which they had looked at poor Flushington; the old nurse, too, was overjoyed at the exchange, and now declared that from the minute she set eyes on Flushington, she had felt something inside tell her that her Master Frank would never have turned out so undersized as him!
+
+'Well,' said the aunt, mollified at last, 'you must forgive us for having disturbed you like this, Mr. a -- Flushington' (the unfortunate man murmured that he did not mind it now); 'and now, Frank, my boy, I should like the girls to see your rooms.'
+
+'Come along then,' said he. 'Will you let me give you something to eat? -- I'll run down and see what they can let me have; and perhaps you'll kindly help me to lay the cloth; I never can lay the thing straight myself, and my old bedmaker's out of the way, as usual.'
+
+The girls looked dubiously at one another -- they were frightfully hungry still; at last the eldest, out of pure consideration for Flushington's feelings, said, 'Thank you very much, Cousin Frank -- but your friend has kindly given us some lunch already.'
+
+'Oh!' he said, 'has he though? That's really uncommonly good of you, old chap.'
+
+But Flushington's modesty did not allow him to accept undeserved gratitude. 'I say,' he whispered, taking the other aside, 'I gave them what I could, but I'm afraid it -- it wasn't much of a lunch.'
+
+Lushington made a mental note that he would repeat his invitation when he had got his cousins outside. 'Well, look here,' he said, 'will you come and help me to row the ladies up to Byron's Pool -- say in an hour from this -- and we'll all come back and have a little dinner in my rooms, eh?'
+
+'Yes, Mr. Flushington, do -- do come,' the girls all entreated him, 'just to show you forgive us for taking possession of you like this.'
+
+But Flushington wriggled out of it somehow. He couldn't come, he said uncomfortably; he had an engagement. He had nothing of the kind, but he felt that he had had quite enough female society for one day.
+
+They did not press him, and he was heartily glad when the last of his temporary relations had filed out of his little room, leaving him reminiscences of a terrible half-hour which caused him to be extremely careful for months after not to lunch without ascertaining previously that his outer door was securely sported. But never again did a solitary hungry aunt invade his solitude.
+
+THE SIREN.
+
+Long long ago, a siren lived all alone upon a rocky little island far out in the Southern Ocean. She may have been the youngest and most beautiful of the original three sirens, driven by her sisters' jealousy, or her own weariness of their society, to seek this distant home; or she may have lived there in solitude from the beginning.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But she was not unhappy; all she cared about was the admiration and worship of mortal men, and these were hers whenever she wished, for she had only to sing, and her exquisite voice would float away over the waters, until it reached some passing vessel, and then every one that heard was seized instantly with the irresistible longing to hasten to her isle and throw himself adoringly at her feet.
+
+One day as she sat upon a low headland, looking earnestly out over the sparkling blue-green water before her, and hoping to discover the peak of some far-off sail on the hazy sea-line, she was startled by a sound she had never heard before -- the grating of a boat's keel on the pebbles in the little creek at her side.
+
+She had been too much absorbed in watching for distant ships to notice that a small bark had been gliding round the other side of her island, but now, as she glanced round, she saw that the stranger who had guided it was already jumping ashore and securing his boat.
+
+Evidently she had not attracted him there, for she had been too indolent to sing of late, and he did not seem even to have seen her, or to have landed from any other motive than curiosity.
+
+He was quite young, gallant-looking and sunburnt, with brown hair curling over his forehead, an open face and honest grey eyes. And as she looked at him, the fancy came to her that she would like to question him and hear his voice; she would find out, if she could, what manner of beings these mortals were over whom she possessed so strange a power.
+
+Never before had such a thought entered her mind, notwithstanding that she had seen many mortals of every age and rank, from captain to the lowest galley slave; but then she had only seen them under the influence of her magical voice, when they were struck dumb and motionless, after which -- except as proofs of her power -- they did not interest her.
+
+But this stranger was still free -- so long as she did not choose to enslave him; and for some reason she did not choose to do so just yet.
+
+As he turned towards her, she beckoned to him imperiously, and he saw the slender graceful figure above for the first time, -- the fairest maiden his eyes had ever beheld, with an unearthly beauty in her wonderful dark blue eyes, and hair of the sunniest gold, -- he stood gazing at her in motionless uncertainty, for he thought he must be cheated by a vision.
+
+He came nearer, and, obeying a careless motion of her hand, threw himself down on a broad shelf of rock a little below the spot where she was seated; still he did not dare to speak lest the vision should pass away.
+
+She looked at him for some time with an innocent, almost childish, curiosity shining under her long lashes. At last she gave a low little laugh: 'Are you afraid of me?' she asked; 'why don't you speak? but perhaps,' she added to herself, 'mortals cannot speak.'
+
+'I was silent,' he said, 'lest by speaking I should anger you -- for surely you must be some goddess or sea-nymph?'
+
+'Ah, you can speak!' she cried. 'No, I am no goddess or nymph, and you will not anger me -- if only you will tell me many things I want to know!'
+
+And she began to ask him all the questions she could think of: first about the great world in which men lived, and then about himself, for she was very curious, in a charmingly wilful and capricious fashion of her own.
+
+He answered frankly and simply, but it seemed as if some influence were upon him which kept him from being dazzled and overcome by her loveliness, for he gave no sign as yet of yielding to the glamour she cast upon all other men, nor did his eyes gleam with the despairing adoration the siren knew so well.
+
+She was quick to perceive this, and it piqued her. She paid less and less attention to the answers he gave her, and ceased at last to question him further.
+
+Presently she said, with a strange smile that showed her cruel little teeth gleaming between her scarlet lips, 'Why don't you ask me who I am, and what I am doing here alone? do not you care to know?'
+
+'If you will deign to tell me,' he said.
+
+'Then I will tell you,' she said; 'I am a siren -- are you not afraid now?'
+
+'Why should I be afraid?' he asked, for the name had no meaning in his ears.
+
+She was disappointed; it was only her voice -- nothing else, then -- that deprived men of their senses; perhaps this youth was proof even against that; she longed to try, and yet she hesitated still.
+
+'Then you have never heard of me,' she said; 'you don't know why I sit and watch for the great gilded ships you mortals build for yourselves?'
+
+'For your pleasure, I suppose,' he answered. 'I have watched them myself many a time; they are grand as they sweep by, with their sharp brazen beaks cleaving the frothing water, and their painted sails curving out firm against the sky. It is good to hear the measured thud of the great oars and the cheerful cries of the sailors as they clamber about the cordage.'
+
+She laughed disdainfully. 'And you think I care for all that!' she cried. 'Where is the pleasure of looking idly on and admiring? -- that is for them, not for me. As these galleys of yours pass, I sing -- and when the sailors hear, they must come to me. Man after man leaps eagerly into the sea, and makes for the shore -- until at last the oars grind and lock together, and the great ship drifts helplessly on, empty and aimless. I like that.'
+
+'But the men?' he asked, with an uneasy wonder at her words.
+
+'Oh, they reach the shore -- some of them, and then they lie at my feet, just as you are lying now, and I sing on, and as they listen they lose all power or wish to move, nor have I ever heard them speak as you speak; they only lie there upon the sand or rock, and gaze at me always, and soon their cheeks grow hollower and hollower, and their eyes brighter and brighter -- and it is I who make them so!'
+
+'But I see them not,' said the youth, divided between hope and fear; 'the beach is bare; where, then, are all those gone who have lain here?'
+
+'I cannot say,' she replied carelessly; 'they are not here for long; when the sea comes up it carries them away.'
+
+'And you do not care!' he cried, struck with horror at the absolute indifference in her face; 'you do not even try to keep them here?'
+
+'Why should I care?' said the siren lightly; 'I do not want them. More will always come when I wish. And it is so wearisome always to see the same faces, that I am glad when they go.'
+
+'I will not believe it, siren,' groaned the young man, turning from her in bitter anguish; 'oh, you cannot be cruel!'
+
+'No, I am not cruel,' she said in surprise. 'And why will you not believe me? It is true!'
+
+'Listen to me,' he said passionately: 'do you know how bitter it is to die, -- to leave the sunlight and the warm air, the fair land and the changing sea?'
+
+'How can I know?' said the siren. 'I shall never die -- unless -- unless something happens which will never be!'
+
+'You will live on, to bring this bitterness upon others for your sport. We mortals lead but short lives, and life, even spent in sorrow, is sweet to most of us; and our deaths when they come bring mourning to those who cared for us and are left behind. But you lure men to this isle, and look on unmoved as they are borne away!'
+
+'No, you are wrong,' she said; 'I am not cruel, as you think me; when they are no longer pleasant to look at, I leave them. I never see them borne away. I never thought what became of them at last. Where are they now?'
+
+'They are dead, siren,' he said sadly, 'drowned. Life was dear to them; far away there were women and children to whom they had hoped to return, and who have waited and wept for them since. Happy years were before them, and to some at least -- but for you -- a restful and honoured old age. But you called them, and as they lay here the greedy waves came up, dashed them from these rocks and sucked them, blinded, suffocating, battling painfully for breath and life, down into the dark green depths. And now their bones lie tangled in the sea-weed, but they themselves are wandering, sad, restless shades, in the shadowy world below, where is no sun, no happiness, no hope -- but only sighing evermore, and the memory of the past!'
+
+She listened with drooping lids, and her chin resting upon her soft palm; at last she said with a slight quiver in her voice,'I did not know -- I did not mean them to die. And what can I do? I cannot keep back the sea.'
+
+'You can let them sail by unharmed,' he said.
+
+'I cannot!' she cried. 'Of what use is my power to me if I may not exercise it? Why do you tell me of men's sufferings -- what are they to me?'
+
+'They give you their lives,' he said; 'you fill them with a hopeless love and they die for it in misery -- yet you cannot even pity them!'
+
+'Is it love that brings them here?' she said eagerly. 'What is this that is called love? For I have always known that if I ever love -- but then only -- I must die, though what love may be I know not. Tell me, so that I may avoid it!'
+
+'You need not fear, siren,' he said, 'for, if death is only to come to you through love, you will never die!'
+
+'Still, I want to know,' she insisted; 'tell me!'
+
+'If a stranger were to come some day to this isle, and when his eyes meet yours, you feel your indifference leaving you, so that you have no heart to see him lie ignobly at your feet, and cannot leave him to perish miserably in the cold waters; if you desire to keep him by your side -- not as your slave and victim, but as your companion, your equal, for evermore -- that will be love!'
+
+'If that is love,' she cried joyously, 'I shall indeed never die! But that is not how men love me?' she added.
+
+'No,' he said; 'their love for you must be some strange and enslaving passion, since they will submit to death if only they may hear your voice. That is not true love, but a fatal madness.'
+
+'But if mortals feel love for one another,' she asked,'they must die, must they not?'
+
+'The love of a man for a maiden who is gentle and good does not kill -- even when it is most hopeless,' he said; 'and where she feels it in return, it is well for both, for their lives will flow on together in peace and happiness.'
+
+He had spoken softly, with a far away look in his eyes that did not escape the siren.
+
+'And you love one of your mortal maidens like that?' she asked. 'Is she more beautiful than I am?'
+
+'She is mortal,' he said, 'but she is fair and gracious, my maiden; and it is she who has my love, and will have it while I live.'
+
+'And yet,' she said, with a mocking smile, 'I could make you forget her.'
+
+Her childlike waywardness had left her as she spoke the words, and a dangerous fire was shining in her deep eyes.
+
+'Never!' he cried; 'even you cannot make me false to my love! And yet,' he added quickly, 'I dare not challenge you, enchantress that you are; what is my will against your power?'
+
+'You do not love me yet,' she said; 'you have called me cruel, and reproached me; you have dared to tell me of a maiden compared with whom I am nothing! You shall be punished. I will have you for my own, like the others!'
+
+'Siren,' he pleaded, seizing one of her hands as it lay close to him on the hot grey rock, 'take my life if you will -- but do not drive away the memory of my love; let me die, if I must die, faithful to her; for what am I, or what is my love, to you?'
+
+'Nothing,' she said scornfully, and yet with something of a caress in her tone, 'yet I want you; you shall lie here, and hold my hand, and look into my eyes, and forget all else but me.'
+
+'Let me go,' he cried, rising, and turning back to regain his bark; 'I choose life while I may!'
+
+She laughed. 'You have no choice,' she said; 'you are mine!' she seemed to have grown still more radiantly, dazzlingly fair, and presently, as the stranger made his way to the creek where his boat was lying, she broke into the low soft chant whose subtle witchery no mortals had ever resisted as yet.
+
+He started as he heard her, but still he went on over the rocks a little longer, until at last he stopped with a groan, and turned slowly back; his love across the sea was fading fast from his memory; he felt no desire to escape any longer; he was even eager at last to be back on the ledge at her feet and listen to her for ever.
+
+He reached it and sank down with a sigh, and a drowsy delicious languor stole over him, taking away all power to stir or speak.
+
+Her song was triumphant and mocking, and yet strangely tender at times, thrilling him as he heard it, but her eyes only rested now and then, and always indifferently, upon his upturned face.
+
+He wished for nothing better now than to lie there, following the flashing of her supple hands upon the harp-strings and watching every change of her fair face. What though the waves might rise round him and sweep him away out of sight, and drown her voice with the roar and swirl of waters? it would not be just yet.
+
+And the siren sang on; at first with a cruel pride at finding her power supreme, and this youth, for all his fidelity, no wiser than the rest; he would waste there with yearning, hopeless passion, till the sight of him would weary her, and she would leave him to drift away and drown forgotten.
+
+Yet she did not despise him as she had despised all the others; in her fancy his eyes bore a sad reproach, and she could look at him no longer with indifference.
+
+Meanwhile the waves came rolling in fast, till they licked the foot of the rock, and as the foam creamed over the shingle, the siren found herself thinking of the fate which was before him, and, as she thought, her heart was wrung with a new strange pity.
+
+She did not want him to be drowned; she would like him there always at her feet, with that rapt devotion upon his face; she almost longed to hear his voice again -- but that could never be!
+
+And the sun went down, and the crimson flush in the sky and on the sea faded out, the sea grew grey and crested with the white billows, which came racing in and broke upon the shore, roaring sullenly and raking back the pebbles with a sharp rattle at each recoil. The siren could sing no longer; her voice died away, and she gazed on the troubled sea with a wistful sadness in her great eyes.
+
+At last a wave larger than the others struck the face of the low cliff with a shock that seemed to leave it trembling, and sent the cold salt spray dashing up into the siren's face.
+
+She sprang forward to the edge and looked over, with a sudden terror lest the ledge below should be bare -- but her victim lay there still, bound fast by her spell, and careless of the death that was advancing upon him.
+
+Then she knew for the first time that she could not give him up to the sea, and she leaned down to him and laid one small white hand upon his shoulder. 'The next wave will carry you away,' she cried, trembling; 'there is still time; save yourself, for I cannot let you die!'
+
+But he gave no sign of having heard her, but lay there motionless, and the wind wailed past them and the sea grew wilder and louder.
+
+She remembered now that no efforts of his own could save him -- he was doomed, and she was the cause of it, and she hid her face in her slender hands, weeping for the first time in her life.
+
+The words he had spoken in answer to her questions about love came back to her: 'It was true, then,' she said to herself; 'it is love that I feel for him. But I cannot love -- I must not love him -- for if I do, my power is gone, and I must throw myself into the sea!'
+
+So she hardened her heart once more, and turned away, for she feared to die; but again the ground shook beneath her, and the spray rose high into the air, and then she could bear it no more -- whatever it cost her, she must save him -- for if he died, what good would her life be to her?
+
+'If one of us must die,' she said, 'I will be that one. I am cruel and wicked, as he told me; I have done harm enough!' and bending down, she wound her arms round his unconscious body and drew him gently up to the level above.
+
+'You are safe now,' she whispered; 'you shall not be drowned -- for I love you. Sail back to your maiden on the mainland, and be happy; but do not hate me for the evil I have wrought, for suffering and death have come to me in my turn!'
+
+The lethargy into which he had fallen left him under her clinging embrace, and the sad, tender words fell almost unconsciously upon his dulled ears; he felt the touch of her hair as it brushed his cheek, and his forehead was still warm with the kiss she had pressed there as he opened his eyes -- only to find himself alone.
+
+For the fate which the siren had dreaded had come upon her at last; she had loved, and she had paid the penalty for loving, and never more would her wild, sweet voice beguile mortals to their doom.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE CURSE OF THE CATAFALQUES.
+
+I.
+
+Unless I am very much mistaken, until the time when I was subjected to the strange and exceptional experience which I now propose to relate, I had never been brought into close contact with anything of a supernatural description. At least if I ever was, the circumstance can have made no lasting impression upon me, as I am quite unable to recall it. But in the 'Curse of the Catafalques' I was confronted with a horror so weird and so altogether unusual, that I doubt whether I shall ever succeed in wholly forgetting it -- and I know that I have never felt really well since.
+
+It is difficult for me to tell my story intelligibly without some account of my previous history by way of introduction, although I will to make it as little diffuse as I may.
+
+I had not been a success at home; I was an orphan, and, in my anxiety to please a wealthy uncle upon whom I was practically dependent, I had consented to submit myself to a series of competitive examinations for quite a variety of professions, but in each successive instance I achieved the same disheartening failure. Some explanation of this may, no doubt, be found in the fact that, with a fatal want of forethought, I had entirely omitted to prepare myself by any particular course of study -- which, as I discovered too late, is almost indispensable to success in these intellectual contests.
+
+My uncle himself took this view, and conceiving -- not without discernment -- that I was by no means likely to retrieve myself by any severe degree of application in the future, he had me shipped out to Australia, where he had correspondents and friends who would put things in my way.
+
+They did put several things in my way -- and, as might have been expected, I came to grief over every one of them, until at length, having given a fair trial to each opening that had been provided for me, I began to perceive that my uncle had made a grave mistake in believing me suited for a colonial career.
+
+I resolved to return home and convince him of his error, and give him one more opportunity of repairing it; he had failed to discover the best means of utilising my undoubted ability, yet I would not reproach him (nor do I reproach him even now), for I too have felt the difficulty.
+
+In pursuance of my resolution, I booked my passage home by one of the Orient liners from Melbourne to London. About an hour before the ship was to leave her moorings, I went on board and made my way at once to the state-room which I was to share with a fellow passenger, whose acquaintance I then made for the first time.
+
+He was a tall cadaverous young man of about my own age, and my first view of him was not encouraging, for when I came in, I found him rolling restlessly on the cabin floor, and uttering hollow groans.
+
+'This will never do,' I said, after I had introduced myself; 'if you're like this now, my good sir, what will you be when we're fairly out at sea? You must husband your resources for that. And why trouble to roll? The ship will do all that for you, if you will only have patience.'
+
+He explained, somewhat brusquely, that he was suffering from mental agony, not sea-sickness; and by a little pertinacious questioning (for I would not allow myself to be rebuffed) I was soon in possession of the secret which was troubling my companion, whose name, as I also learned, was Augustus McFadden.
+
+It seemed that his parents had emigrated before his birth, and he had lived all his life in the Colony, where he was contented and fairly prosperous -- when an eccentric old aunt of his over in England happened to die.
+
+She left McFadden himself nothing, having given by her will the bulk of her property to the only daughter of a baronet of ancient family, in whom she took a strong interest. But the will was not without its effect upon her existence, for it expressly mentioned the desire of the testatrix that the baronet should receive her nephew Augustus if he presented himself within a certain time, and should afford him every facility for proving his fitness for acceptance as a suitor. The alliance was merely recommended, however, not enjoined, and the gift was unfettered by any conditions.
+
+'I heard of it first,' said McFadden, 'from Chlorine's father (Chlorine is her name, you know). Sir Paul Catafalque wrote to me, informing me of the mention of my name in my aunt's will, enclosing his daughter's photograph, and formally inviting me to come over and do my best, if my affections were not pre-engaged, to carry out the last wishes of the departed. He added that I might expect to receive shortly a packet from my aunt's executors which would explain matters fully, and in which I should find certain directions for my guidance. The photograph decided me; it was so eminently pleasing that I felt at once that my poor aunt's wishes must be sacred to me. I could not wait for the packet to arrive, and so I wrote at once to Sir Paul accepting the invitation. Yes,' he added, with another of the hollow groans, 'miserable wretch that I am, I pledged my honour to present myself as a suitor, and now -- now -- here I am, actually embarked upon the desperate errand!'
+
+He seemed inclined to begin to roll again here, but I stopped him. 'Really,' I said, 'I think in your place, with an excellent chance -- for I presume the lady's heart is also disengaged -- with an excellent chance of winning a baronet's daughter with a considerable fortune and a pleasing appearance, I should bear up better.'
+
+'You think so,' he rejoined,'but you do not know all! The very day after I had despatched my fatal letter, my aunt's explanatory packet arrived. I tell you that when I read the hideous revelations it contained, and knew to what horrors I had innocently pledged myself, my hair stood on end, and I believe it has remained on end ever since. But it was too late. Here I am, engaged to carry out a task from which my inmost soul recoils. Ah, if I dared but retract!'
+
+'Then why in the name of common sense, don't you retract?' I asked. 'Write and say that you much regret that a previous engagement, which you had unfortunately overlooked, deprives you of the pleasure of accepting.'
+
+'Impossible,' he said; 'it would be agony to me to feel that I had incurred Chlorine's contempt, even though I only know her through a photograph at present. If I were to back out of it now, she would have reason to despise me, would she not?'
+
+'Perhaps she would,' I said.
+
+'You see my dilemma -- I cannot retract; on the other hand, I dare not go on. The only thing, as I have thought lately, which could save me and my honour at the same time would be my death on the voyage out, for then my cowardice would remain undiscovered.'
+
+'Well,' I said, 'you can die on the voyage out if you want to -- there need be no difficulty about that. All you have to do is just to slip over the side some dark night when no one is looking. I tell you what,' I added (for somehow I began to feel a friendly interest in this poor slack-baked creature): 'if you don't find your nerves equal to it when it comes to the point, I don't mind giving you a leg over myself.'
+
+'I never intended to go as far as that,' he said, rather pettishly, and without any sign of gratitude for my offer; 'I don't care about actually dying, if she could only be made to believe I had died that would be quite enough for me. I could live on here, happy in the thought that I was saved from her scorn. But how can she be made to believe it? -- that's the point.'
+
+'Precisely,' I said. 'You can hardly write yourself and inform her that you died on the voyage. You might do this, though: sail to England as you propose, and go to see her under another name, and break the sad intelligence to her.'
+
+'Why, to be sure, I might do that!' he said, with some animation; 'I should certainly not be recognised -- she can have no photograph of me, for I have never been photographed. And yet -- no,' he added, with a shudder, 'it is useless. I can't do it; I dare not trust myself under that roof! I must find some other way. You have given me an idea. Listen,' he said, after a short pause: 'you seem to take an interest in me; you are going to London; the Catafalques live there, or near it, at some place called Parson's Green. Can I ask a great favour of you -- would you very much mind seeking them out yourself as a fellow-voyager of mine? I could not expect you to tell a positive untruth on my account -- but if, in the course of an interview with Chlorine, you could contrive to convey the impression that I died on my way to her side, you would be doing me a service I can never repay!'
+
+'I should very much prefer to do you a service that you could repay,' was my very natural rejoinder.
+
+'She will not require strict proof,' he continued eagerly; 'I could give you enough papers and things to convince her that you come from me. Say you will do me this kindness!'
+
+I hesitated for some time longer, not so much, perhaps, from scruples of a conscientious kind as from a disinclination to undertake a troublesome commission for an entire stranger -- gratuitously. But McFadden pressed me hard, and at length he made an appeal to springs in my nature which are never touched in vain, and I yielded.
+
+When we had settled the question in its financial aspect, I said to McFadden, 'The only thing now is -- how would you prefer to pass away? Shall I make you fall over and be devoured by a shark? That would be a picturesque end -- and I could do myself justice over the shark? I should make the young lady weep considerably.'
+
+'That won't do at all!' he said irritably; 'I can see from her face that Chlorine is a girl of a delicate sensibility, and would be disgusted by the idea of any suitor of hers spending his last cohesive moments inside such a beastly repulsive thing as a shark. I don't want to be associated in her mind with anything so unpleasant. No, sir; I will die -- if you will oblige me by remembering it -- of a low fever, of a non-infectious type, at sunset, gazing at her portrait with my fading eyesight and gasping her name with my last breath. She will cry more over that!'
+
+'I might work it up into something effective, certainly,' I admitted; 'and, by the way, if you are going to expire in my state-room, I ought to know a little more about you than I do. There is time still before the tender goes; you might do worse than spend it in coaching me in your life's history.'
+
+He gave me a few leading facts, and supplied me with several documents for study on the voyage; he even abandoned to me the whole of his travelling arrangements, which proved far more complete and serviceable than my own.
+
+And then the 'All-ashore' bell rang, and McFadden, as he bade me farewell, took from his pocket a bulky packet. 'You have saved me,' he said. 'Now I can banish every recollection of this miserable episode. I need no longer preserve my poor aunt's directions; let them go, then.'
+
+Before I could say anything, he had fastened something heavy to the parcel and dropped it through the cabin-light into the sea, after which he went ashore, and I have never seen nor heard of him since.
+
+During the voyage I had leisure to think seriously over the affair, and the more I thought of the task I had undertaken, the less I liked it.
+
+No man with the instincts of a gentleman can feel any satisfaction at rinding himself on the way to harrow up a poor young lady's feelings by a perfectly fictitious account of the death of a poor-spirited suitor who could selfishly save his reputation at her expense.
+
+And so strong was my feeling about this from the very first, that I doubt whether, if McFadden's terms had been a shade less liberal, I could ever have brought myself to consent.
+
+But it struck me that, under judiciously sympathetic treatment, the lady might prove not inconsolable, and that I myself might be able to heal the wound I was about to inflict.
+
+I found a subtle pleasure in the thought of this, for, unless McFadden had misinformed me, Chlorine's fortune was considerable, and did not depend upon any marriage she might or might not make. On the other hand, I was penniless, and it seemed to me only too likely that her parents might seek to found some objection to me on that ground.
+
+I studied the photograph McFadden had left with me; it was that of a pensive but distinctly pretty face, with an absence of firmness in it that betrayed a plastic nature. I felt certain that if I only had the recommendation, as McFadden had, of an aunt's dying wishes, it would not take me long to effect a complete conquest.
+
+And then, as naturally as possible, came the thought -- why should not I procure myself the advantages of this recommendation? Nothing could be easier; I had merely to present myself as Augustus McFadden, who was hitherto a mere name to them; the information I already possessed as to his past life would enable me to support the character, and as it seemed that the baronet lived in great seclusion, I could easily contrive to keep out of the way of the few friends and relations I had in London until my position was secure.
+
+What harm would this innocent deception do to anyone? McFadden, even if he ever knew, would have no right to complain -- he had given up all pretentions himself and if he was merely anxious to preserve his reputation, his wishes would be more than carried out, for I flattered myself that whatever ideal Chlorine might have formed of her destined suitor, I should come much nearer to it than poor McFadden could ever have done. No, he would gain, positively gain, by my assumption. He could not have counted upon arousing more than a mild regret as it was; now he would be fondly, it might be madly, loved. By proxy, it is true, but that was far more than he deserved.
+
+Chlorine was not injured -- far from it; she would have a suitor to welcome, not weep over, and his mere surname could make no possible difference to her. And lastly, it was a distinct benefit to me, for with a new name and an excellent reputation success would be an absolute certainty. What wonder, then, that the scheme, which opened out a far more manly and honourable means of obtaining a livelihood than any I had previously contemplated, should have grown more attractively feasible each day, until I resolved at last to carry it out? Let rigid moralists blame me if they will; I have never pretended to be better than the average run of mankind (though I am certainly no worse), and no one who really knows what human nature is will reproach me very keenly for obeying what was almost an instinct. And I may say this, that if ever an unfortunate man was bitterly punished for a fraud which was harmless, if not actually pious, by a visitation of intense and protracted terror, that person was I!
+
+II.
+
+After arriving in England, and before presenting myself at Parson's Green in my assumed character, I took one precaution against any danger there might be of my throwing away my liberty in a fit of youthful impulsiveness. I went to Somerset House, and carefully examined the probate copy of the late Miss Petronia McFadden's last will and testament.
+
+Nothing could have been more satisfactory; a sum of between forty and fifty thousand pounds was Chlorine's unconditionally, just as McFadden had said. I searched, but could find nothing in the will whatever to prevent her property, under the then existing state of the law, from passing under the entire control of a future husband.
+
+After this, then, I could no longer restrain my ardour, and so, one foggy afternoon about the middle of December, I found myself driving towards the house in which I reckoned upon achieving a comfortable independence.
+
+Parson's Green was reached at last; a small triangular open space bordered on two of its sides by mean and modern erections, but on the third by some ancient mansions, gloomy and neglected-looking indeed, but with traces on them still of their former consequence.
+
+My cab stopped before the gloomiest of them all -- a square grim house with dull and small-paned windows, flanked by two narrow and projecting wings, and built of dingy brick, faced with yellow-stone. Some old scroll-work railings, with a corroded frame in the middle for a long departed oil-lamp, separated the house from the road; inside was a semicircular patch of rank grass, and a damp gravel sweep led from the heavy gate to a square portico supported by two wasted black wooden pillars.
+
+As I stood there, after pulling the pear-shaped bell-handle, and heard the bell tinkling and jangling fretfully within, and as I glanced up at the dull house-front looming cheerless out of the fog-laden December twilight, I felt my confidence beginning to abandon me for the first time, and I really was almost inclined to give the whole thing up and run away.
+
+Before I could make up my mind, a mouldy and melancholy butler had come slowly down the sweep and opened the gate -- and my opportunity had fled. Later I remembered how, as I walked along the gravel, a wild and wailing scream pierced the heavy silence -- it seemed at once a lamentation and a warning. But as the District Railway was quite near, I did not attach any particular importance to the sound at the time.
+
+I followed the butler through a dank and chilly hall, where an antique lamp hung glimmering feebly through its panes of dusty stained glass, up a broad carved staircase, and along some tortuous panelled passages, until at length I was ushered into a long and rather low reception room, scantily furnished with the tarnished mirrors and spindle-legged brocaded furniture of a bygone century.
+
+A tall and meagre old man, with a long white beard, and haggard, sunken black eyes, was seated at one side of the high chimney-piece, while opposite him sat a little limp old lady with a nervous expression, and dressed in trailing black robes relieved by a little yellow lace about the head and throat. As I saw them, I recognised at once that I was in the presence of Sir Paul Catafalque and his wife.
+
+They both rose slowly, and advanced arm-in-arm in their old-fashioned way, and met me with a stately solemnity. 'You are indeed welcome,' they said in faint hollow voices. 'We thank you for this proof of your chivalry and devotion. It cannot be but that such courage and such self-sacrifice will meet with their reward!'
+
+And although I did not quite understand how they could have discerned, as yet, that I was chivalrous and devoted, I was too glad to have made a good impression to do anything but beg them not to mention it.
+
+And then a slender figure, with a drooping head, a wan face, and large sad eyes, came softly down the dimly-lighted room towards me, and I and my destined bride met for the first time.
+
+As I had expected, after she had once anxiously raised her eyes, and allowed them to rest upon me, her face was lighted up by an evident relief, as she discovered that the fulfilment of my aunt's wishes would not be so distasteful to her, personally, as it might have been.
+
+For myself, I was upon the whole rather disappointed in her; the portrait had flattered her considerably -- the real Chlorine was thinner and paler than I had been led to anticipate, while there was a settled melancholy in her manner which I felt would prevent her from being an exhilarating companion.
+
+And I must say I prefer a touch of archness and animation in womankind, and, if I had been free to consult my own tastes, should have greatly preferred to become a member of a more cheerful family. Under the circumstances, however, I was not entitled to be too particular, and I put up with it.
+
+From the moment of my arrival I fell easily and naturally into the position of an honoured guest, who might be expected in time to form nearer and dearer relations with the family, and certainly I was afforded every opportunity of doing so.
+
+I made no mistakes, for the diligence with which I had got up McFadden's antecedents enabled me to give perfectly satisfactory replies to most of the few allusions or questions that were addressed to me, and I drew upon my imagination for the rest.
+
+But those days I spent in the baronet's family were far from lively: the Catafalques went nowhere; they seemed to know nobody; at least no visitors ever called or dined there while I was with them, and the time dragged slowly on in a terrible monotony in that dim tomb of a house, which I was not expected to leave except for very brief periods, for Sir Paul would grow uneasy if I walked out alone -- even to Putney.
+
+There was something, indeed, about the attitude of both the old people towards myself which I could only consider as extremely puzzling. They would follow me about with a jealous care, blended with anxious alarm, and their faces as they looked at me wore an expression of tearful admiration, touched with something of pity, as for some youthful martyr; at times, too, they spoke of the gratitude they felt, and professed a determined hopefulness as to my ultimate success.
+
+Now I was well aware that this is not the ordinary bearing of the parents of an heiress to a suitor who, however deserving in other respects, is both obscure and penniless, and the only way in which I could account for it was by the supposition that there was some latent defect in Chlorine's temper or constitution, which entitled the man who won her to commiseration, and which would also explain their evident anxiety to get her off their hands.
+
+But although anything of this kind would be, of course, a drawback, I felt that forty or fifty thousand pounds would be a fair set-off -- and I could not expect everything.
+
+When the time came at which I felt that I could safely speak to Chlorine of what lay nearest my heart, I found an unforeseen difficulty in bringing her to confess that she reciprocated my passion.
+
+She seemed to shrink unaccountably from speaking the word which gave me the right to claim her, confessing that she dreaded it not for her own sake, but for mine alone, which struck me as an unpleasantly morbid trait in so young a girl.
+
+Again and again I protested that I was willing to run all risks -- as I was -- and again and again she resisted, though always more faintly, until at last my efforts were successful, and I forced from her lips the assent which was of so much importance to me.
+
+But it cost her a great effort, and I believe she even swooned immediately afterwards; but this is only conjecture, as I lost no time in seeking Sir Paul and clenching the matter before Chlorine had time to retract.
+
+He heard what I had to tell him with a strange light of triumph and relief in his weary eyes. 'You have made an old man very happy and hopeful,' he said. 'I ought, even now to deter you, but I am too selfish for that. And you are young and brave and ardent; why need we despair? I suppose,' he added, looking keenly at me, 'you would prefer as little delay as possible?'
+
+'I should indeed,' I replied. I was pleased, for I had not expected to find him so sensible as that.
+
+'Then leave all preliminaries to me; when the day and time have been settled, I will let you know. As you are aware, it will be necessary to have your signature to this document; and here, my boy, I must in conscience warn you solemnly that by signing you make your decision irrevocable -- irrevocable, you understand?'
+
+When I had heard this, I need scarcely say that I was all eagerness to sign; so great was my haste that I did not even try to decipher the somewhat crabbed and antiquated writing in which the terms of the agreement were set out.
+
+I was anxious to impress the baronet with a sense of my gentlemanly feeling and the confidence I had in him, while I naturally presumed that, since the contract was binding upon me, the baronet would, as a man of honour, hold it equally conclusive on his own side.
+
+As I look back upon it now, it seems simply extraordinary that I should have been so easily satisfied, have taken so little pains to find out the exact position in which I was placing myself; but, with the ingenuous confidence of youth, I fell an easy victim, as I was to realise later with terrible enlightenment.
+
+'Say nothing of this to Chlorine,' said Sir Paul, as I handed him the document signed, 'until the final arrangements are made; it will only distress her unnecessarily.'
+
+I wondered why at the time, but I promised to obey, supposing that he knew best, and for some days after that I made no mention to Chlorine of the approaching day which was to witness our union.
+
+As we were continually together, I began to regard her with an esteem which I had not thought possible at first. Her looks improved considerably under the influence of happiness, and I found she could converse intelligently enough upon several topics, and did not bore me nearly as much as I was fully prepared for.
+
+And so the time passed less heavily, until one afternoon the baronet took me aside mysteriously. 'Prepare yourself, Augustus' (they had all learned to call me Augustus), he said; 'all is arranged. The event upon which our dearest hopes depend is fixed for to-morrow -- in the Grey Chamber of course, and at midnight.'
+
+I thought this a curious time and place for the ceremony, but I had divined his eccentric passion for privacy and retirement, and only imagined that he had procured some very special form of licence.
+
+'But you do not know the Grey Chamber,' he added. 'Come with me, and I will show you where it is.' And he led me up the broad staircase, and, stopping at the end of a passage before an immense door covered with black baize and studded with brass nails, which gave it a hideous resemblance to a gigantic coffin lid, he pressed a spring, and it fell slowly back.
+
+I saw a long dim gallery, whose very existence nothing in the external appearance of the mansion had led me to suspect; it led to a heavy oaken door with cumbrous plates and fastenings of metal.
+
+'To-morrow night is Christmas Eve, as you are doubtless aware,' he said in a hushed voice. 'At twelve, then, you will present yourself at yonder door -- the door of the Grey Chamber -- where you must fulfil the engagement you have made.'
+
+I was surprised at his choosing such a place for the ceremony; it would have been more cheerful in the long drawing room; but it was evidently a whim of his, and I was too happy to think of opposing it. I hastened at once to Chlorine, with her father's sanction, and told her that the crowning moment of both our lives was fixed at last.
+
+The effect of my announcement was astonishing: she fainted, for which I remonstrated with her as soon as she came to herself. 'Such extreme sensitiveness, my love,' I could not help saying, 'may be highly creditable to your sense of maidenly propriety, but allow me to say that I can scarcely regard it as a compliment.'
+
+'Augustus,' she said, 'you must not think I doubt you; and yet -- and yet -- the ordeal will be a severe one for you.'
+
+'I will steel my nerves,' I said grimly (for I was annoyed with her); 'and, after all, Chlorine, the ceremony is not invariably fatal; I have heard of the victim surviving it -- occasionally.'
+
+'How brave you are!' she said earnestly. 'I will imitate you, Augustus; I too will hope.'
+
+I really thought her insane, which alarmed me for the validity of the marriage. 'Yes, I am weak, foolish, I know,' she continued; 'but oh, I shudder so when I think of you, away in that gloomy Grey Chamber, going through it all alone!'
+
+This confirmed my worst fears. No wonder her parents felt grateful to me for relieving them of such a responsibility! 'May I ask where you intend to be at the time?' I inquired very quietly.
+
+'You will not think us unfeeling,' she replied, 'but dear papa considered that such anxiety as ours would be scarcely endurable did we not seek some distraction from it; and so, as a special favour, he has procured evening orders for Sir John Soane's Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields, where we shall drive immediately after dinner.'
+
+I knew that the proper way to treat the insane was by reasoning with them gently, so as to place their own absurdity clearly before them. 'If you are forgetting your anxiety in Sir John Soane's Museum, while I cool my heels in the Grey Chamber,' I said, 'is it probable that any clergyman will be induced to perform the marriage ceremony? Did you really think two people can be united separately?'
+
+She was astonished this time. 'You are joking!' she cried; 'you cannot really believe that we are to be married in -- in the Grey Chamber?'
+
+'Then will you tell me where we are to be married?' I asked. 'I think I have the right to know -- it can hardly be at the Museum!'
+
+She turned upon me with a sudden misgiving; 'I could almost fancy,' she said anxiously, 'that this is no feigned ignorance. Augustus, your aunt sent you a message -- tell me, have you read it?'
+
+Now, owing to McFadden's want of consideration, this was my one weak point -- I had not read it, and thus I felt myself upon delicate ground. The message evidently related to business of importance which was to be transacted in this Grey Chamber, and as the genuine McFadden clearly knew all about it, it would have been simply suicidal to confess my own ignorance.
+
+'Why of course, darling, of course,' I said hastily. 'You must think no more of my silly joke; there is something I have to arrange in the Grey Chamber before I can call you mine. But, tell me, why does it make you so uneasy?' I added, thinking it might be prudent to find out beforehand what formality was expected from me.
+
+'I cannot help it -- no, I cannot!' she cried, 'the test is so searching -- are you sure that you are prepared at all points? I overheard my father say that no precaution could safely be neglected. I have such a terrible foreboding that, after all, this may come between us.'
+
+It was clear enough to me now; the baronet was by no means so simple and confiding in his choice of a son-in-law as I had imagined, and had no intention, after all, of accepting me without some inquiry into my past life, my habits, and my prospects.
+
+That he should seek to make this examination more impressive by appointing this ridiculous midnight interview for it, was only what might have been expected from an old man of his confirmed eccentricity.
+
+But I knew I could easily contrive to satisfy the baronet, and with the idea of consoling Chlorine, I said as much. 'Why will you persist in treating me like a child, Augustus?' she broke out almost petulantly. 'They have tried to hide it all from me, but do you suppose I do not know that in the Grey Chamber you will have to encounter one far more formidable, far more difficult to satisfy, than poor dear papa?'
+
+'I see you know more than I -- more than I thought you did,' I said. 'Let us understand one another, Chlorine -- tell me exactly how much you know.'
+
+'I have told you all I know,' she said; 'it is your turn to confide in me.'
+
+'Not even for your sweet sake, my dearest,' I was obliged to say, 'can I break the seal that is set upon my tongue. You must not press me. Come, let us talk of other things.'
+
+But I now saw that matters were worse than I had thought; instead of the feeble old baronet I should have to deal with a stranger, some exacting and officious friend or relation perhaps, or, more probably, a keen family solicitor who would put questions I should not care about answering, and even be capable of insisting upon strict settlements.
+
+It was that, of course; they would try to tie my hands by a strict settlement, with a brace of cautious trustees; unless I was very careful, all I should get by my marriage would be a paltry life-interest, contingent upon my surviving my wife.
+
+This revolted me; it seems to me that when law comes in with its offensively suspicious restraints upon the husband and its indelicately premature provisions for the offspring, all the poetry of love is gone at once. By allowing the wife to receive the income 'for her separate use and free from the control of her husband,' as the phrase runs, you infallibly brush the bloom from the peach, and implant the 'little speck within the fruit' which, as Tennyson beautifully says, will widen by-and-by and make the music mute.
+
+This may be overstrained on my part, but it represents my honest conviction; I was determined to have nothing to do with law. If it was necessary, I felt quite sure enough of Chlorine to defy Sir Paul. I would refuse to meet a family solicitor anywhere, and I intended to say so plainly at the first convenient opportunity.
+
+III.
+
+The opportunity came after dinner that evening when we were all in the drawing-room, Lady Catafalque dozing uneasily in her arm-chair behind a firescreen, and Chlorine, in the further room, playing funereal dirges in the darkness, and pressing the stiff keys of the old piano with a languid uncertain touch.
+
+Drawing a chair up to Sir Paul's, I began to broach the subject calmly and temperately. 'I find,' I said, 'that we have not quite understood one another over this affair in the Grey Chamber. When I agreed to an appointment there, I thought -- well, it doesn't matter what I thought, I was a little too premature. What I want to say now is, that while I have no objection to you, as Chlorine's father, asking me any questions (in reason) about myself, I feel a delicacy in discussing my private affairs with a perfect stranger.'
+
+His burning eyes looked me through and through; 'I don't understand,' he said. 'Tell me what you are talking about.'
+
+I began all over again, telling him exactly what I felt about solicitors and settlements. 'Are you well?' he asked sternly. 'What have I ever said about settlements or solicitors?
+
+I saw that I was wrong again, and could only stammer something to the effect that a remark of Chlorine's had given me this impression.
+
+'What she could have said to convey such an idea passes my comprehension,' he said gravely; 'but she knows nothing -- she's a mere child. I have felt from the first, my boy, that your aunt's intention was to benefit you quite as much as my own daughter. Believe me, I shall not attempt to restrict you in any way; I shall be too rejoiced to see you come forth in safety from the Grey Chamber.'
+
+All the relief I had begun to feel respecting the settlements was poisoned by these last words. Why did he talk of that confounded Grey Chamber as if it were a fiery furnace, or a cage of lions? What mystery was there concealed beneath all this, and how, since I was obviously supposed to be thoroughly acquainted with it, could I manage to penetrate the secret of this perplexing appointment?
+
+While he had been speaking, the faint, mournful music died away, and, looking up, I saw Chlorine, a pale, slight form, standing framed in the archway which connected the two rooms.
+
+'Go back to your piano, my child,' said the baronet; 'Augustus and I have much to talk about which is not for your ears.'
+
+'But why not?' she said; 'oh, why not? Papa! dearest mother! Augustus! I can bear it no longer! I have often felt of late that we are living this strange life under the shadow of some fearful Thing, which would chase all cheerfulness from any home. More than this I did not seek to know; I dared not ask. But now, when I know that Augustus, whom I love with my whole heart, must shortly face this ghastly presence, you cannot wonder if I seek to learn the real extent of the danger that awaits him! Tell me all. I can bear the worst -- for it cannot be more horrible than my own fears!'
+
+Lady Catafalque had roused herself and was wringing her long mittened hands and moaning feebly. 'Paul,' she said, 'you must not tell her; it will kill her; she is not strong!' Her husband seemed undecided, and I myself began to feel exquisitely uncomfortable. Chlorine's words pointed to something infinitely more terrible than a mere solicitor.
+
+'Poor girl,' said Sir Paul at last, 'it was for your own good that the whole truth has been thus concealed from you; but now, perhaps, the time has come when the truest kindness will be to reveal all. What do you say, Augustus?'
+
+'I -- I agree with you,' I replied faintly; 'she ought to be told.'
+
+'Precisely!' he said. 'Break to her, then, the nature of the ordeal which lies before you.'
+
+It was the very thing which I wanted to be broken to me! I would have given the world to know all about it myself, and so I stared at his gloomy old face with eyes that must have betrayed my helpless dismay. At last I saved myself by suggesting that such a story would come less harshly from a parent's lips.
+
+'Well, so be it,' he said. 'Chlorine, compose yourself, dearest one; sit down there, and summon up all your fortitude to hear what I am about to tell you. You must know, then -- I think you had better let your mother give you a cup of tea before I begin; it will steady your nerves.'
+
+During the delay which followed -- for Sir Paul did not consider his daughter sufficiently fortified until she had taken at least three cups -- I suffered tortures of suspense, which I dared not betray.
+
+They never thought of offering me any tea, though the merest observer might have noticed how very badly I wanted it.
+
+At last the baronet was satisfied, and not without a sort of gloomy enjoyment and a proud relish of the distinction implied in his exceptional affliction, he began his weird and almost incredible tale.
+
+'It is now,' said he, 'some centuries since our ill-fated house was first afflicted with the family curse which still attends it. A certain Humfrey de Catafalque, by his acquaintance with the black art, as it was said, had procured the services of a species of familiar, a dread and supernatural being. For some reason he had conceived a bitter enmity towards his nearest relations, whom he hated with a virulence that not even death could soften. For, by a refinement of malice, he bequeathed this baleful thing to his descendants for ever, as an inalienable heirloom! And to this day it follows the title -- and the head of the family for the time being is bound to provide it with a secret apartment under his own roof. But that is not the worst: as each member of our house succeeds to the ancestral rank and honours, he must seek an interview with 'The Curse,' as it has been styled for generations. And, in that interview, it is decided whether the spell is to be broken and the Curse depart from us for ever -- or whether it is to continue its blighting influence, and hold yet another life in miserable thraldom.'
+
+'And are you one of its thralls then, papa?' faltered Chlorine.
+
+'I am, indeed,' he said. 'I failed to quell it, as every Catafalque, however brave and resolute, has failed yet. It checks all my accounts, and woe to me if that cold, withering eye discovers the slightest error -- even in the pence column! I could not describe the extent of my bondage to you, my daughter, or the humiliation of having to go and tremble monthly before that awful presence. Not even yet, old as I am, have I grown quite accustomed to it!'
+
+Never, in my wildest imaginings, had I anticipated anything one quarter so dreadful as this; but still I clung to the hope that it was impossible to bring me into the affair.
+
+'But, Sir Paul,' I said -- 'Sir Paul, you -- you mustn't stop there, or you'll alarm Chlorine more than there's any need to do. She -- ha, ha! -- don't you see, she has got some idea into her head that I have to go through much the same sort of thing. Just explain that to her. I'm not a Catafalque, Chlorine, so it -- it can't interfere with me. That is so, isn't it, Sir Paul? Good heavens, sir, don't torture her like this!' I cried, as he was silent. 'Speak out!'
+
+'You mean well, Augustus,' he said, 'but the time for deceiving her has gone by; she must know the worst. Yes, my poor child,' he continued to Chlorine, whose eyes were wide with terror -- though I fancy mine were even wider -- 'unhappily, though our beloved Augustus is not a Catafalque himself, he has of his own free will brought himself within the influence of the Curse, and he, too, at the appointed hour, must keep the awful assignation, and brave all that the most fiendish malevolence can do to shake his resolution.'
+
+I could not say a single word; the horror of the idea was altogether too much for me, and I fell back on my chair in a state of speechless collapse.
+
+'You see,' Sir Paul went on explaining, 'it is not only all new baronets, but every one who would seek an alliance with the females of our race, who must, by the terms of that strange bequest, also undergo this trial. It may be in some degree owing to this necessity that, ever since Humfrey de Catafalque's diabolical testament first took effect, every maiden of our House has died a spinster.' (Here Chlorine hid her face with a low wail.) 'In 1770, it is true, one solitary suitor was emboldened by love and daring to face the ordeal. He went calmly and resolutely to the chamber where the Curse was then lodged, and the next morning they found him outside the door -- a gibbering maniac!'
+
+I writhed on my chair. 'Augustus!' cried Chlorine wildly, 'promise me you will not permit the Curse to turn you into a gibbering maniac. I think if I saw you gibber I should die!'
+
+I was on the verge of gibbering then; I dared not trust myself to speak.
+
+'Nay, Chlorine,' said Sir Paul more cheerfully, 'there is no cause for alarm; all has been made smooth for Augustus.' (I began to brighten a little at this.) 'His Aunt Petronia had made a special study of the old-world science of incantation, and had undoubtedly succeeded at last in discovering the master-word which, employed according to her directions, would almost certainly break the unhallowed spell. In her compassionate attachment to us, she formed the design of persuading a youth of blameless life and antecedents to present himself as our champion, and the reports she had been given of our dear Augustus' irreproachable character led her to select him as a likely instrument. And her confidence in his generosity and courage was indeed well-founded, for he responded at once to the appeal of his departed aunt, and, with her instructions for his safeguard, and the consciousness of his virtue as an additional protection, there is hope, my child, strong hope, that, though the struggle may be a long and bitter one, yet Augustus will emerge a victor!'
+
+I saw very little ground for expecting to emerge as anything of the kind, or for that matter to emerge at all, except in instalments, -- for the master-word which was to abash the demon was probably inside the packet of instructions, and that was certainly somewhere at the bottom of the sea, outside Melbourne, fathoms below the surface.
+
+I could bear no more. 'It's simply astonishing to me,' I said, 'that in the nineteenth century, hardly six miles from Charing Cross, you can calmly allow this hideous "Curse," or whatever you call it, to have things all its own way like this.'
+
+'What can I do, Augustus?' he asked helplessly.
+
+'Do? Anything!' I retorted wildly (for I scarcely knew what I said). 'Take it out for an airing (it must want an airing by this time); take it out -- and lose it! Or get both the archbishops to step in and lay it for you. Sell the house, and make the purchaser take it at a valuation, with the other fixtures. I certainly would not live under the same roof with it. And I want you to understand one thing -- I was never told all this; I have been kept in the dark about it. Of course I knew there was some kind of a curse in the family -- but I never dreamed of anything so bad as this, and I never had any intention of being boxed up alone with it either. I shall not go near the Grey Chamber!'
+
+'Not go near it!' they all cried aghast.
+
+'Not on any account,' I said, for I felt firmer and easier now that I had taken up this position. 'If the Curse has any business with me, let it come down and settle it here before you all in a plain straightforward manner. Let us go about it in a business-like way. On second thoughts,' I added, fearing lest they should find means of carrying out this suggestion. 'I won't meet it anywhere!'
+
+'And why -- why won't you meet it?' they asked breathlessly.
+
+'Because,' I explained desperately, 'because I'm -- I'm a materialist.' (I had not been previously aware that I had any decided opinions on the question, but I could not stay then to consider the point.) 'How can I have any dealings with a preposterous supernatural something which my reason forbids me to believe in? You see my difficulty? It would be inconsistent, to begin with, and -- and extremely painful to both sides.'
+
+'No more of this ribaldry,' said Sir Paul sternly. 'It may be terribly remembered against you when the hour comes. Keep a guard over your tongue, for all our sakes, and more especially your own. Recollect that the Curse knows all that passes beneath this roof. And do not forget, too, that you are pledged -- irrevocably pledged. You must confront the Curse!'
+
+Only a short hour ago, and I had counted Chlorine's fortune and Chlorine as virtually mine; and now I saw my golden dreams roughly shattered for ever! And, oh, what a wrench it was to tear myself from them! what it cost me to speak the words that barred my Paradise to me for ever!
+
+But if I wished to avoid confronting the Curse -- and I did wish this very much -- I had no other course. 'I had no right to pledge myself,' I said, with quivering lips, 'under all the circumstances.'
+
+'Why not,' they demanded again; 'what circumstances?'
+
+'Well, in the first place,' I assured them earnestly, 'I'm a base impostor. I am indeed. I'm not Augustus McFadden at all. My real name is of no consequence -- but it's a prettier one than that. As for McFadden, he, I regret to say, is now no more.'
+
+Why on earth I could not have told the plain truth here has always been a mystery to me. I suppose I had been lying so long that it was difficult to break myself of this occasionally inconvenient trick at so short a notice, but I certainly mixed things up to a hopeless extent.
+
+'Yes,' I continued mournfully, 'McFadden is dead; I will tell you how he died if you would care to know. During his voyage here he fell overboard, and was almost instantly appropriated by a gigantic shark, when, as I happened to be present, I enjoyed the melancholy privilege of seeing him pass away. For one brief moment I beheld him between the jaws of the creature, so pale but so composed (I refer to McFadden, you understand -- not the shark), he threw just one glance up at me, and with a smile, the sad sweetness of which I shall never forget (it was McFadden's smile, I mean, of course -- not the shark's), he, courteous and considerate to the last, requested me to break the news and remember him very kindly to you all. And, in the same instant, he abruptly vanished within the monster -- and I saw neither of them again!'
+
+Of course in bringing the shark in at all I was acting directly contrary to my instructions, but I quite forgot them in my anxiety to escape the acquaintance of the Curse of the Catafalques.
+
+'If this is true, sir,' said the baronet haughtily when I had finished, 'you have indeed deceived us basely.'
+
+'That,' I replied, 'is what I was endeavouring to bring out. You see, it puts it quite out of my power to meet your family Curse. I should not feel justified in intruding upon it. So, if you will kindly let some one fetch a fly or a cab in half an hour -- -- '
+
+'Stop!' cried Chlorine. 'Augustus, as I will call you still, you must not go like this. If you have stooped to deceit, it was for love of me, and -- and Mr. McFadden is dead. If he had been alive, I should have felt it my duty to allow him an opportunity of winning my affection, but he is lying in his silent tomb, and -- and I have learnt to love you. Stay, then; stay and brave the Curse; we may yet be happy!'
+
+I saw how foolish I had been not to tell the truth at first, and I hastened to repair this error. 'When I described McFadden as dead,' I said hoarsely, 'it was a loose way of putting the facts -- because, to be quite accurate, he isn't dead. We found out afterwards that it was another fellow the shark had swallowed, and, in fact, another shark altogether. So he is alive and well now, at Melbourne, but when he came to know about the Curse, he was too much frightened to come across, and he asked me to call and make his excuses. I have now done so, and will trespass no further on your kindness -- if you will tell somebody to bring a vehicle of any sort in a quarter of an hour.'
+
+'Pardon me,' said the baronet, 'but we cannot part in this way. I feared when first I saw you that your resolution might give way under the strain; it is only natural, I admit. But you deceive yourself if you think we cannot see that these extraordinary and utterly contradictory stories are prompted by sudden panic. I quite understand it, Augustus; I cannot blame you; but to allow you to withdraw now would be worse than weakness on my part. The panic will pass, you will forget these fears to-morrow, you must forget them; remember, you have promised. For your own sake, I shall take care that you do not forfeit that solemn bond, for I dare not let you run the danger of exciting the Curse by a deliberate insult.'
+
+I saw clearly that his conduct was dictated by a deliberate and most repulsive selfishness; he did not entirely believe me, but he was determined that if there was any chance that I, whoever I might be, could free him from his present thraldom, he would not let it escape him.
+
+I raved, I protested, I implored -- all in vain; they would not believe a single word I said, they positively refused to release me, and insisted upon my performing my engagement.
+
+And at last Chlorine and her mother left the room, with a little contempt for my unworthiness mingled with their evident compassion; and a little later Sir Paul conducted me to my room, and locked me in 'till,' as he said, 'I had returned to my senses.'
+
+IV.
+
+What a night I passed, as I tossed sleeplessly from side to side under the canopy of my old-fashioned bedstead, torturing my fevered brain with vain speculations as to the fate the morrow was to bring me.
+
+I felt myself perfectly helpless; I saw no way out of it; they seemed bent upon offering me up as a sacrifice to this private Moloch of theirs. The baronet was quite capable of keeping me locked up all the next day and pushing me into the Grey Chamber to take my chance when the hour came.
+
+If I had only some idea what the Curse was like to look at, I thought I might not feel quite so afraid of it; the vague and impalpable awfulness of the thing was intolerable, and the very thought of it caused me to fling myself about in an ecstasy of horror.
+
+By degrees, however, as daybreak came near, I grew calmer -- until at length I arrived at a decision. It seemed evident to me that, as I could not avoid my fate, the wisest course was to go forth to meet it with as good a grace as possible. Then, should I by some fortunate accident come well out of it, my fortune was ensured.
+
+But if I went on repudiating my assumed self to the very last, I should surely arouse a suspicion which the most signal rout of the Curse would not serve to dispel.
+
+And after all, as I began to think, the whole thing had probably been much exaggerated; if I could only keep my head, and exercise all my powers of cool impudence, I might contrive to hoodwink this formidable relic of mediæval days, which must have fallen rather behind the age by this time. It might even turn out to be (although I was hardly sanguine as to this) as big a humbug as I was myself, and we should meet with confidential winks, like the two augurs.
+
+But, at all events, I resolved to see this mysterious affair out, and trust to my customary good luck to bring me safely through, and so, having found the door unlocked, I came down to breakfast something like my usual self, and set myself to remove the unfavourable impression I had made on the previous night.
+
+They did it from consideration for me, but still it was mistaken kindness for them all to leave me entirely to my own thoughts during the whole of the day, for I was driven to mope alone about the gloom-laden building, until by dinner-time I was very low indeed from nervous depression.
+
+We dined in almost unbroken silence; now and then, as Sir Paul saw my hand approaching a decanter, he would open his lips to observe that I should need the clearest head and the firmest nerve ere long, and warn me solemnly against the brown sherry; from time to time, too, Chlorine and her mother stole apprehensive glances at me, and sighed heavily between every course. I never remember eating a dinner with so little enjoyment.
+
+The meal came to an end at last; the ladies rose, and Sir Paul and I were left to brood over the dessert. I fancy both of us felt a delicacy in starting a conversation, and before I could hit upon a safe remark, Lady Catafalque and her daughter returned, dressed, to my unspeakable horror, in readiness to go out. Worse than that even, Sir Paul apparently intended to accompany them, for he rose at their entrance.
+
+'It is now time for us to bid you a solemn farewell, Augustus,' he said, in his hollow old voice. 'You have three hours before you yet, and if you are wise, you will spend them in earnest self-preparation. At midnight, punctually, for you must not dare to delay, you will go to the Grey Chamber -- the way thither you know, and you will find the Curse prepared for you. Good-bye, then, brave and devoted boy; stand firm, and no harm can befall you!'
+
+'You are going away, all of you!' I cried. They were not what you might call a gay family to sit up with, but even their society was better than my own.
+
+'Upon these dread occasions,' he explained, 'it is absolutely forbidden for any human being but one to remain in the house. All the servants have already left, and we are about to take our departure for a private hotel near the Strand. We shall just have time, if we start at once, to inspect the Soane Museum on our way thither, which will serve as some distraction from the terrible anxiety we shall be feeling.'
+
+At this I believe I positively howled with terror; all my old panic came back with a rush. 'Don't leave me all alone with It!' I cried; 'I shall go mad if you do!'
+
+Sir Paul simply turned on his heel in silent contempt, and his wife followed him; but Chlorine remained behind for one instant, and somehow, as she gazed at me with a yearning pity in her sad eyes, I thought I had never seen her looking so pretty before.
+
+'Augustus,' she said, 'get up.' (I suppose I must have been on the floor somewhere.) 'Be a man; show us we were not mistaken in you. You know I would spare you this if I could; but we are powerless. Oh, be brave, or I shall lose you for ever!'
+
+Her appeal did seem to put a little courage into me, I staggered up and kissed her slender hand and vowed sincerely to be worthy of her.
+
+And then she too passed out, and the heavy hall door slammed behind the three, and the rusty old gate screeched like a banshee as it swung back and closed with a clang.
+
+I heard the carriage-wheels grind the slush, and the next moment I knew that I was shut up on Christmas Eve in that sombre mansion -- with the Curse of the Catafalques as my sole companion!
+
+* * * * *
+
+I don't think the generous ardour with which Chlorine's last words had inspired me lasted very long, for I caught myself shivering before the clock struck nine, and, drawing up a clumsy leathern arm-chair close to the fire, I piled on the logs and tried to get rid of a certain horrible sensation of internal vacancy which was beginning to afflict me.
+
+I tried to look my situation fairly in the face; whatever reason and common sense had to say about it, there seemed no possible doubt that something of a supernatural order was shut up in that great chamber down the corridor, and also that, if I meant to win Chlorine, I must go up and have some kind of an interview with it. Once more I wished I had some definite idea to go upon; what description of being should I find this Curse? Would it be aggressively ugly, like the bogie of my infancy, or should I see a lank and unsubstantial shape, draped in clinging black, with nothing visible beneath it but a pair of burning hollow eyes and one long pale bony hand? Really I could not decide which would be the more trying of the two.
+
+By-and-by I began to recollect unwillingly all the frightful stories I had ever read; one in particular came back to me, -- the adventure of a foreign marshal who, after much industry, succeeded in invoking an evil spirit, which came bouncing into the room shaped like a gigantic ball, with, I think, a hideous face in the middle of it, and would not be got rid of until the horrified marshal had spent hours in hard praying and persistent exorcism!
+
+What should I do if the Curse was a globular one and came rolling all round the room after me?
+
+Then there was another appalling tale I had read in some magazine, -- a tale of a secret chamber, too, and in some respects a very similar case to my own, for there the heir of some great house had to go in and meet a mysterious aged person with strange eyes and an evil smile, who kept attempting to shake hands with him.
+
+Nothing should induce me to shake hands with the Curse of the Catafalques, however apparently friendly I might find it.
+
+But it was not very likely to be friendly, for it was one of those mystic powers of darkness which know nearly everything -- it would detect me as an impostor directly, and what would become of me? I declare I almost resolved to confess all and sob out my deceit upon its bosom, and the only thing which made me pause was the reflection that probably the Curse did not possess a bosom.
+
+By this time I had worked myself up to such a pitch of terror that I found it absolutely necessary to brace my nerves, and I did brace them. I emptied all the three decanters, but as Sir Paul's cellar was none of the best, the only result was that, while my courage and daring were not perceptibly heightened, I was conscious of feeling exceedingly unwell.
+
+Tobacco, no doubt, would have calmed and soothed me, but I did not dare to smoke. For the Curse, being old-fashioned, might object to the smell of it, and I was anxious to avoid exciting its prejudices unnecessarily.
+
+And so I simply sat in my chair and shook. Every now and then I heard steps on the frosty path outside: sometimes a rapid tread, as of some happy person bound to scenes of Christmas revelry, and little dreaming of the miserable wretch he was passing; sometimes the slow creaking tramp of the Fulham policeman on his beat.
+
+What if I called him in and gave the Curse into custody -- either for putting me in bodily fear (as it was undeniably doing), or for being found on the premises under suspicious circumstances?
+
+There was a certain audacity about this means of cutting the knot that fascinated me at first, but still I did not venture to adopt it, thinking it most probable that the stolid constable would decline to interfere as soon as he knew the facts; and even if he did, it would certainly annoy Sir Paul extremely to hear of his Family Curse spending its Christmas in a police-cell, and I felt instinctively that he would consider it a piece of unpardonable bad taste on my part.
+
+So one hour passed. A few minutes after ten I heard more footsteps and voices in low consultation, as if a band of men had collected outside the railings. Could there be any indication without of the horrors these walls contained?
+
+But no; the gaunt house-front kept its secret too well; they were merely the waits. They saluted me with the old carol, 'God rest you, merry gentleman, let nothing you dismay!' which should have encouraged me, but it didn't, and they followed that up by a wheezy but pathetic rendering of 'The Mistletoe Bough.'
+
+For a time I did not object to them; while they were scraping and blowing outside I felt less abandoned and cut off from human help, and then they might arouse softer sentiments in the Curse upstairs by their seasonable strains: these things do happen at Christmas sometimes. But their performance was really so infernally bad that it was calculated rather to irritate than subdue any evil spirit, and very soon I rushed to the window and beckoned to them furiously to go away.
+
+Unhappily, they thought I was inviting them indoors for refreshment, and came round to the gate, when they knocked and rang incessantly for a quarter of an hour.
+
+This must have stirred the Curse up quite enough, but when they had gone, there came a man with a barrel organ, which was suffering from some complicated internal disorder, causing it to play its whole repertory at once, in maddening discords. Even the grinder himself seemed dimly aware that his instrument was not doing itself justice, for he would stop occasionally, as if to ponder or examine it. But he was evidently a sanguine person and had hopes of bringing it round by a little perseverance; so, as Parson's Green was well-suited by its quiet for this mode of treatment, he remained there till he must have reduced the Curse to a rampant and rabid condition.
+
+He went at last, and then the silence that followed began to my excited fancy (for I certainly saw nothing) to be invaded by strange sounds that echoed about the old house. I heard sharp reports from the furniture, sighing moans in the draughty passages, doors opening and shutting, and -- worse still -- stealthy padding footsteps, both above and in the ghostly hall outside!
+
+I sat there in an ice-cold perspiration, until my nerves required more bracing, to effect which I had recourse to the spirit-case.
+
+And after a short time my fears began to melt away rapidly. What a ridiculous bugbear I was making of this thing after all! Was I not too hasty in setting it down as ugly and hostile before I had seen it ... how did I know it was anything which deserved my horror?
+
+Here a gush of sentiment came over me at the thought that it might be that for long centuries the poor Curse had been cruelly misunderstood -- that it might be a blessing in disguise.
+
+I was so affected by the thought that I resolved to go up at once and wish it a merry Christmas through the keyhole, just to show that I came in no unfriendly spirit.
+
+But would not that seem as if I was afraid of it? I scorned the idea of being afraid. Why, for two straws, I would go straight in and pull its nose for it -- if it had a nose!
+
+I went out with this object, not very steadily, but before I had reached the top of the dim and misty staircase, I had given up all ideas of defiance, and merely intended to go as far as the corridor by way of a preliminary canter.
+
+The coffin-lid door stood open, and I looked apprehensively down the corridor; the grim metal fittings on the massive door of the Grey Chamber were gleaming with a mysterious pale light, something between the phenomena obtained by electricity and the peculiar phosphorescence observable in a decayed shell-fish; under the door I saw the reflection of a sullen red glow, and within I could hear sounds like the roar of a mighty wind, above which peals of fiendish mirth rang out at intervals, and were followed by a hideous dull clanking.
+
+It seemed only too evident that the Curse was getting up the steam for our interview. I did not stay there long, because I was afraid that it might dart out suddenly and catch me eavesdropping, which would be a hopelessly bad beginning. I got back to the dining-room, somehow; the fire had taken advantage of my short absence to go out, and I was surprised to find by the light of the fast-dimming lamp that it was a quarter to twelve already.
+
+Only fifteen more fleeting minutes and then -- unless I gave up Chlorine and her fortune for ever -- I must go up and knock at that awful door, and enter the presence of the frightful mystic Thing that was roaring and laughing and clanking on the other side!
+
+Stupidly I sat and stared at the clock; in five minutes, now, I should be beginning my desperate duel with one of the powers of darkness -- a thought which gave me sickening qualms.
+
+I was clinging to the thought that I had still two precious minutes left -- perhaps my last moments of safety and sanity -- when the lamp expired with a gurgling sob, and left me in the dark.
+
+I was afraid of sitting there all alone any longer, and besides, if I lingered, the Curse might come down and fetch me. The horror of this idea made me resolve to go up at once, especially as scrupulous punctuality might propitiate it.
+
+Groping my way to the door, I reached the hall and stood there, swaying under the old stained-glass lantern. And then I made a terrible discovery. I was not in a condition to transact any business; I had disregarded Sir Paul's well-meant warning at dinner; I was not my own master. I was lost!
+
+The clock in the adjoining room tolled twelve, and from without the distant steeples proclaimed in faint peals and chimes that it was Christmas morn. My hour had come!
+
+Why did I not mount those stairs? I tried again and again, and fell down every time, and at each attempt I knew the Curse would be getting more and more impatient.
+
+I was quite five minutes late, and yet, with all my eagerness to be punctual, I could not get up that staircase. It was a horrible situation, but it was not at its worst even then, for I heard a jarring sound above, as if heavy rusty bolts were being withdrawn.
+
+The Curse was coming down to see what had become of me! I should have to confess my inability to go upstairs without assistance, and so place myself wholly at its mercy!
+
+I made one more desperate effort, and then -- and then, upon my word, I don't know how it was exactly -- but, as I looked wildly about, I caught sight of my hat on the hat-rack below, and the thoughts it roused in me proved too strong for resistance. Perhaps it was weak of me, but I venture to think that very few men in my position would have behaved any better.
+
+I renounced my ingenious and elaborate scheme for ever, the door (fortunately for me) was neither locked nor bolted, and the next moment I was running for my life along the road to Chelsea, urged on by the fancy that the Curse itself was in hot pursuit.
+
+* * * * *
+
+For weeks after that I lay in hiding, starting at every sound, so fearful was I that the outraged Curse might track me down at last; all my worldly possessions were at Parson's Green, and I could not bring myself to write or call for them, nor indeed have I seen any of the Catafalques since that awful Christmas Eve.
+
+I wish to have nothing more to do with them, for I feel naturally that they took a cruel advantage of my youth and inexperience, and I shall always resent the deception and constraint to which I so nearly fell a victim.
+
+But it occurs to me that those who may have followed my strange story with any curiosity and interest may be slightly disappointed at its conclusion, which I cannot deny is a lame and unsatisfactory one.
+
+They expected, no doubt, to be told what the Curse's personal appearance is, and how it comports itself in that ghastly Grey Chamber, what it said to me, and what I said to it, and what happened after that.
+
+This information, as will be easily understood, I cannot pretend to give, and, for myself, I have long ceased to feel the slightest curiosity on any of these points. But for the benefit of such as are less indifferent, I may suggest that almost any eligible bachelor would easily obtain the opportunities I failed to enjoy by simply calling at the old mansion at Parson's Green, and presenting himself to the baronet as a suitor for his daughter's hand.
+
+I shall be most happy to allow my name to be used as a reference.
+
+A FAREWELL APPEARANCE.
+
+A DOG STORY FOR CHILDREN.
+
+[Illustration: D]
+
+'Andy, come here, sir; I want you.' The little girl who spoke was standing by the table in the morning-room of a London house one summer day, and she spoke to a small silver-grey terrier lying curled up at the foot of one of the window curtains.
+
+As Dandy happened to be particularly comfortable just then, he pretended not to hear, in the hope that his child-mistress would not press the point.
+
+But she did not choose to be trifled with in this way: he was called more imperiously still, until he could dissemble no longer and came out gradually, stretching himself and yawning with a deep sense of injury.
+
+'I know you haven't been asleep; I saw you watching the flies,' she said. 'Come up here, on the table.'
+
+Seeing there was no help for it, he obeyed, and sat down on the table-cloth opposite to her, with his tongue hanging out and his eyes blinking, waiting her pleasure.
+
+Dandy was rather particular as to the hands he allowed to touch him, but generally speaking, he found it pleasant enough (when he had nothing better to do) to resign himself to be pulled about, lectured, or caressed by Hilda.
+
+She was a strikingly pretty child, with long curling brown locks, and a petulant profile, which reminded one of Mr. Doyle's charming wilful little fairy princesses.
+
+On the whole, although Dandy privately considered she had taken rather a liberty in disturbing him, he was willing to overlook it.
+
+'I've been thinking, Dandy,' said Hilda, reflectively, 'that as you and Lady Angelina will be thrown a good deal together when we go into the country next week, you ought to know one another, and you've never been properly introduced yet; so I'm going to introduce you now.'
+
+Now Lady Angelina was only Hilda's doll, and a doll, too, with perhaps as few ideas as any doll ever had yet -- which is a good deal to say.
+
+Dandy despised her with all the enlightenment of a thoroughly superior dog; he considered there was simply nothing in her, except possibly bran, and it had made him jealous and angry for a long time to notice the influence that this staring, simpering creature had managed to gain over her mistress.
+
+'Now sit up,' said Hilda. Dandy sat up. He felt that committed him to nothing, but he was careful not to look at Lady Angelina, who was lolling ungracefully in the work-basket with her toes turned in.
+
+'Lady Angelina,' said Hilda next, with great ceremony, 'let me introduce my particular friend Mr. Dandy. Dandy, you ought to bow and say something nice and clever, only you can't; so you must give Angelina your paw instead.'
+
+Here was an insult for a self-respecting dog! Dandy determined never to disgrace himself by presenting his paw to a doll; it was quite against his principles. He dropped on all fours rebelliously.
+
+'That's very rude of you,' said Hilda, 'but you shall do it. Angelina will think it so odd of you. Sit up again and give your paw, and let Angelina stroke your head.'
+
+The dog's little black nose wrinkled and his lips twitched, showing his sharp white teeth: he was not going to be touched by Angelina's flabby wax hand if he could help it!
+
+Unfortunately, Hilda, like older people sometimes, was bent upon forcing persons to know one another, in spite of an obvious unwillingness on at least one side, and so she brought the doll up to the terrier, and, taking one limp pink arm, attempted to pat the dog's head with it.
+
+This was too much: his eyes flamed red like two signal lamps, there was a sharp sudden snap, and the next minute Lady Angelina's right arm was crunched viciously between Dandy's keen teeth.
+
+After that there was a terrible pause. Dandy knew he was in for it, but he was not sorry. He dropped the mangled pieces of wax one by one, and stood there with his head on one side, growling to himself, but wincing for all that, for he was afraid to meet Hilda's indignant grey eyes.
+
+'You abominable, barbarous dog!' she said at last, using the longest words she could to impress him. 'See what you've done! you've bitten poor Lady Angelina's arm off.'
+
+He could not deny it; he had. He looked down at the fragments before him, and then sullenly up again at Hilda. His eyes said what he felt -- 'I'm glad of it -- serves her right; I'd do it again.'
+
+'You deserve to be well whipped,' continued Hilda, severely; 'but you do howl so. I shall leave you to your own conscience' (a favourite remark of her governess) 'until your bad heart is touched, and you come here and say you're sorry and beg both our pardons. I only wish you could be made to pay for a new arm. Go away out of my sight, you bad dog; I can't bear to look at you!'
+
+Dandy, still impenitent, moved leisurely down from the table and out of the open door into the kitchen. He was thinking that Angelina's arm was very nasty, and he should like something to take the taste away. When he got downstairs, however, he found the butcher was calling and had left the area gate open, which struck him as a good opportunity for a ramble. By the time he came back Hilda would have forgotten all about it, or she might think he was lost, and find out which was the more valuable animal -- a silly, useless doll, or an intelligent dog like himself.
+
+Hilda saw him from the window as he bolted out with tail erect. 'He's doing it to show off,' she said to herself; 'he's a horrid dog sometimes. But I suppose I shall have to forgive him when he comes back!'
+
+However, Dandy did not come back that night, nor all next day, nor the day after that, nor any more; for the fact was, an experienced dog-stealer had long had his eye upon him, and Dandy happened to come across him that very morning.
+
+He was not such a stupid dog as to be unaware he was doing wrong in following a stranger, but then the man had such delightful suggestions about him of things dogs love to eat, and Dandy had started for his run in a disobedient temper.
+
+So he followed the broken-nosed, bandy-legged man till they reached a narrow lonely alley, and then just as Dandy was thinking about going home again, the stranger turned suddenly on him, hemmed him up in a corner, caught him dexterously up in one hand, tapped him sharply on the head, and slipped him, stunned, into a capacious inside pocket.
+
+* * * * *
+
+'I thought werry likely I should come on you in 'ere, Bob,' said a broken-nosed man in a fur cap, about a week after Dandy's disappearance, to a short, red-faced, hoarse man who was drinking at the bar of a public-house.
+
+'Ah,' said the hoarse man; 'well, you ain't fur out as it happens.'
+
+'Yes, I did,' said the other. 'I met your partner the other day, and he tells me you're looking out for a noo Toby dawg. I've got a article somewheres about me at this moment I should like you to cast a eye over.'
+
+And, diving into his inside pocket he fished out a small shining silver-grey terrier which he slammed down rather roughly on the pewter counter.
+
+Of course the terrier was Hilda's lost Dandy. For some reason or other, the dog-stealer had not thought it prudent to claim the reward offered for him as he had intended to do at first, and Dandy, not being of a breed in fashionable demand, the man was trying to get rid of him now for the best price he could obtain from humble purchasers.
+
+'Well, we do want a understudy, and that's a fact,' said the hoarse man, who was one of the managers of Mr. Punch's Theatre. 'The Toby as travels with us now is breakin' up, getting so blind he don't know Punch from Jack Ketch. But that there animal 'ud never make a 'it as a Toby,' he said, examining Dandy critically: 'why, that's bin a gen'leman's dawg once, that has -- we don't want no amatoors on our show.'
+
+'It's the amatoors as draws nowadays,' said the dog-fancier: 'not but what this 'ere partic'lar dawg has his gifts for the purfession. You see him sit up and smoke a pipe and give yer his paw, now.'
+
+And he put Dandy through these performances on the sloppy counter. It was much worse than being introduced to Angelina; but hunger and fretting and rough treatment had broken down the dog's spirit, and it was with dull submission now that he repeated the poor little tricks Hilda had taught him with such pretty perseverance.
+
+'It's no use talking,' said the showman, though he began to show some signs of yielding. 'It takes a tyke born and bred to make a reg'lar Toby. And this ain't a young dog, and he ain't 'ad no proper dramatic eddication; he's not worth to us not the lowest you'd take for him.'
+
+'Well now, I'll tell you 'ow fur I'm willing to meet yer,' said the other persuasively; 'you shall have him, seein' it's you, for -- -- ' And so they haggled on for a little longer, but at the end of the interview Dandy had changed hands, and was permanently engaged as a member of Mr. Punch's travelling company.
+
+A few days after that Dandy made acquaintance with his strange fellow-performers. The men had put the show up on a deserted part of a common near London, behind the railings of a little cemetery where no one was likely to interfere with them, and the new Toby was hoisted up on the very narrow and uncomfortable shelf to go through his first interview with Mr. Punch.
+
+When that popular gentleman appeared at his side Dandy examined him with pricked and curious ears. He was rather odd-looking, but his smile, though there was certainly a good deal of it, seemed genial and encouraging, and the poor dog wagged his tail in a conciliatory manner -- he wanted some one to be kind to him again.
+
+'The dawg's a fool, Bob,' growled Jem, the other proprietor of the show, a little shabby dirty-faced man with a thin and ragged red beard, who was watching the experiment from the outside; 'he's a-waggin' his bloomin' tail -- he'll be a-lickin of Punch's face next! Try him with a squeak.'
+
+And Bob produced a sound which was a hideous compound of chuckle, squeak, and crow, when Dandy, in the full persuasion that the strange figure must be a new variety of cat, flew at it blindly.
+
+But though he managed to get a firm grip of its great hook nose, there was not much satisfaction to be got out of that -- the hard wood made his teeth ache, and besides, in his excitement he overbalanced himself and came suddenly down upon Mr. Robert Blott inside, who swore horribly and put him up again.
+
+Then, after a little highly mysterious dancing up and down, and wagging his head, Mr. Punch, in the most uncalled-for manner, hit Dandy over the head with a stick, in order, as Jem put it, 'to get up a ill-feeling between them' -- a wanton insult that made the dog madder than ever.
+
+He did not revenge himself at once: he only barked furiously and retreated to his corner of the stage; but the next time Punch came sidling cautiously up to him, Dandy made, not for his wooden head, but for a place between his shoulders which he thought looked more yielding.
+
+There was a savage howl from below, Punch dropped in a heap on the narrow shelf, and Mr. Blott sucked his finger and thumb with many curses.
+
+Mr. Punch was not killed, however, though Dandy had at first imagined he had settled him. He revived almost directly, when he proceeded to rain down such a shower of savage blows from his thick stick upon every part of the dog's defenceless body, that Dandy was completely subdued long before his master thought fit to leave off.
+
+By the time the lesson came to an end, Dandy was sore and shaken and dazed, for Bob had allowed himself to be a little carried away by personal feeling. Still it only showed Dandy more plainly that Mr. Punch was not a person to be trifled with, and, though he liked him as little as ever, he respected as well as feared him.
+
+Unfortunately for Dandy, he was a highly intelligent terrier, of an inquiring turn of mind, and so, after he had been led about for some days with the show, and was able to think things over and put them together, he began to suspect that Punch and the other figures were not alive after all, but only a particularly ugly set of dolls, which Mr. Blott put in motion in some way best known to himself.
+
+From the time he was perfectly certain of this he felt a degraded dog indeed. He had scorned once to allow himself to be even touched by Angelina (who at least was not unpleasant to look at, and always quite inoffensive): now, every hour of his life he found himself ordered about and insulted before a crowd of shabby strangers by a vulgar tawdry doll, to which he was obliged to be civil and even affectionate -- as if it was something real!
+
+Dandy was an honest dog, and so, of course, it was very revolting to his feelings to have to impose upon the public in this manner; but Mr. Punch, if he was only a doll, had a way of making himself obeyed.
+
+And though in time the new Toby learnt to perform his duties respectably enough, he did so without the least enthusiasm: it wounded his pride -- besides making him very uncomfortable -- when Punch caught hold of his head, and something with red whiskers and a blue frock took him by the hind legs, and danced jerkily round the stage with him. He hated that more than anything. Day by day he grew more miserable and homesick.
+
+He loathed the Punch and Judy show and every doll in it, from the hero down to the ghost and the baby. Jem and Bob were not actually unkind to him, and would even have been friendly had he allowed it; but he was a dainty dog, with a natural dislike to ill-dressed and dirty persons, and shrank from their rough if well-meant advances. He never could forget what he had once been, and what he was, and often, in the close sleeping-room of some common lodging-house, he dreamed of the comfortable home he had lost, and Hilda's pretty imperious face, and woke to miss her more than ever.
+
+At first his new masters had been careful to keep him from all chance of escape, and Bob led him after the show by a string; but, as he seemed to be getting resigned to his position, allowed him to run loose.
+
+He was trotting tamely at Jem's heels one hot August morning, followed by a small train of admiring children, when all at once he became aware that he was in a street he knew well -- he was near his old home -- a few minutes' hard run and he would be safe with Hilda!
+
+He looked up sideways at Jem, who was beating his drum and blowing his pipes, with his eyes on the lower and upper windows. Bob's head was inside the show, and both were in front and not thinking of him just then.
+
+Dandy stopped, turned round upon the unwashed children behind, looked wistfully up at them, as much as to say, 'Don't tell,' and then bolted at the top of his speed.
+
+There was a shrill cry from the children at once of 'Oh, Mr. Punch, sir, please -- your dawg's a-runnin' away from yer!' and angry calls to return from the two men. Jem even made an attempt to pursue him, but the drum was too much in his way, and a small dog is not easily caught at the best of times when he takes it into his head to run away. So he gave it up sulkily.
+
+Meanwhile Dandy ran on, till the shouts behind died away. Once an errand boy, struck by the parti-coloured frill round the dog's neck, tried to stop him, but he managed to slip past him and run out into the middle of the road, and kept on blindly, narrowly escaping being run over several times by tradesmen's carts.
+
+And at last, panting and exhausted, he reached the well-remembered gate, out of which he had marched so defiantly, it seemed long ages ago.
+
+The railings were covered with wire netting inside, as he knew, but fortunately some one had left the gate open, and he pattered eagerly down the area steps feeling safe and at home at last.
+
+The kitchen door was shut, but the window was not, and, as the sill was low, he contrived to scramble up somehow and jump into the kitchen, where he reckoned upon finding friends to protect him.
+
+But he found it empty, and looking strangely cold and desolate; only a small fire was smouldering in the range, instead of the cheerful blaze he remembered there, and he could not find the cook -- an especial patroness of his -- anywhere.
+
+He scampered up into the hall, making straight for the morning-room, where he knew he should find Hilda curled up in one of the arm-chairs with a book.
+
+But that room was empty too -- the shutters were up, and the half-light which streamed in above them showed a dreary state of confusion: the writing-table was covered with a sheet and put away in a corner, the chairs were piled up on the centre table, the carpet had been taken up and rolled under the sideboard, and there was a faint warm smell of flue and dust and putty in the place.
+
+He pattered out again, feeling puzzled and a little afraid, and went up the bare stone staircase to find Hilda in one of the upper rooms, perhaps in the nursery.
+
+But the upper rooms, too, were all bare and sheeted and ghostly, and, higher up, the stairs were spotted with great stars of whitewash, and there were ladders and planks on which strange men in dirty white blouses were talking and joking a great deal, and doing a little whitewashing now and then, when they had time for it.
+
+Their voices echoed up and down the stairs with a hollow noise that scared him, and he was afraid to venture any higher. Besides, he knew by this time somehow that Hilda, her father and mother, all the friends he had counted upon seeing again, would not be found in any part of that house.
+
+It was the same house, though stripped and deserted, but all the life and colour and warmth had gone out of it; and he ran here and there, seeking for them in vain.
+
+He picked his way forlornly down to the hall again, and there he found a mouldy old woman with a duster pinned over her head and a dustpan and brush in her hand; for, unhappily for him, the family, servants and all, had gone away some days before into the country, and this old woman had been put into the house as caretaker.
+
+She dropped her brush and pan with a start as she saw him, for she was not fond of dogs.
+
+'Why, deary me,' she said morosely, 'if it hasn't give me quite a turn. However did the nasty little beast get in? a-gallivantin' about as if the 'ole place belonged to him.'
+
+Dandy sat up and begged. In the old days he would not have done such a thing for any servant below a cook (who was always worth being polite to), but he felt a very reduced and miserable little animal indeed just then, and he thought she might be able to take him to Hilda.
+
+But the charwoman's only idea was to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
+
+'Why, if it ain't a Toby dawg!' she cried, as her dim old eyes caught sight of his frill. Here, you get out; you don't belong 'ere!'
+
+And she took him up by the scruff of the neck and went to the front door. As she opened it, a sound came from the street outside which Dandy knew only to well: it was the long-drawn squeak of Mr. Punch.
+
+'That's where he come from, I'll bet a penny,' cried the caretaker, and she went down the steps and called over the gate, 'Hi, master, you don't happen to have lost your Toby dawg, do you? Is this him?'
+
+The man with the drum came up -- it was Jem himself; and thereupon Dandy was ignominiously handed over the railings to him, and delivered up once more to the hard life he had so nearly succeeded in shaking off.
+
+He had a severe beating when they got him home, as a warning to him not to rebel again; and he never did try to run away a second time. Where was the good of it? Hilda was gone he did not know where, and the house was a home no longer.
+
+So he went patiently about with the show, a dismal little dog-captive, the dullest little Toby that ever delighted a street audience; so languid and listless at times that Mr. Punch was obliged to rap him really hard on the head before he could induce him to take the slightest notice of him.
+
+But in spite of all this, he made the people laugh; most, perhaps, at night, when the show was lit up by a flaring can of paraffin, and he sat with his feet in Punch's coffin, howling dolefully at the melancholy strains of Jem's pipes, which Dandy always found too much for his feelings.
+
+* * * * *
+
+It was winter time, about a fortnight after Christmas, and the night was snowy and slushy outside, though warm enough in the kitchen of a big Belgravian house. The kitchen was crowded, a stream of waiters and gorgeous powdered footmen and smart maids was perpetually coming and going; in front of the fire a tired little terrier, with a shabby frill round his neck, was basking in the blaze, and near him sat a little dirty-faced man with a red beard, who was being listened to with some attention by a few of the upper servants, who were enjoying a moment's leisure.
+
+'Yes,' he was saying, 'I've been in the purfession a sight o' years now, but I don't know as I ever heard on a Punch's show like me and my mate's bein' engaged for a reg'lar swell evenin' party afore. It shows, to my mind, as public taste is a-coming round -- it ain't quite so low as formerly.'
+
+The little man was Jem; and he, with his partner Bob, and Dandy, were in the house owing to an eccentric notion of its master, who happened to have a taste for experiments.
+
+He agreed with many who consider that some kind of amusement in the intervals of dancing is welcome to children; but it was one of his ideas too that they must be getting a little bored by the inevitable lecture with the dissolving views, and find a conjuror (even after seeing him several times in a fortnight) as a rule more bewildering than amusing; although as a present-producing animal, the last has his compensations.
+
+He was curious to see whether the drama of Punch and Judy had quite lost its old power to please. He could easily have hired an elegant and perfectly refined form of the entertainment from some of the fashionable toy-shops or 'universal providers,' only unfortunately in these improved versions much of the original fun is often found to have been refined away.
+
+So he had decided upon introducing the original Mr. Punch from his native streets and in his natural uncivilised state, and Jem and Bob chanced to be the persons selected to exhibit him.
+
+'Juveniles is all alike,' observed the butler, who, having been commissioned to engage the showmen, condescended to feel a fatherly interest in the affair; ''igh or low, there's nothing pleases 'em more than seeing one party a-fetching another party a thunderin' good whack over the 'ead. That's where, in my opinion, all these pantomimes makes a mistake. There's too much bally and music 'all about 'em and not 'arf enough buttered slide and red-'ot poker.'
+
+'There's plenty of 'ead whackin' in our show,' said Jem, with some pride, 'for my partner, you see, he don't find as the dialogue come as fluid to him as he could wish for, so he cuts a deal of it, and what ain't squeakin' is mostly stick -- like a cheap operer.'
+
+'Your little dog seems very wet and tired,' said a pretty housemaid, bending down to pat Dandy, as he lay stretched out wearily at her feet. 'Would he eat a cake if I got one for him?'
+
+'He ain't, not to say, fed on cakes as a general thing,' said Jem drily, 'but you can try him, miss, and thankee.'
+
+But Dandy only half raised his head and rejected the cake languidly -- he was very comfortable there in the warm firelight, and the place made him feel as if he were back in his own old kitchen, but he was too tired to be hungry.
+
+'He won't hardly look at it,' said the housemaid compassionately. 'I don't think he can be well.'
+
+'Well!' said Jem. 'He's well enough; that's all his contrariness, that is. The fact is, he thinks hisself a deal too good for the likes of us, he do -- thinks he ought to be kep' on chickin in a droring-room!' he sneered, wasting his satire on the unconscious Dandy.
+
+'I tell you what it is, miss: that there dawg's 'art ain't in his business -- he reg'lar looks down on the 'ole concern, thinks it low! Why, I see 'im from the werry fust a-turnin' up his nose at it, and it downright set me against him. Give me a Toby as takes a interest in the drama! The last but one as we had, afore him, now, he used to look on from start to finish, and when Punch went and 'anged Jack Ketch, why, that dawg used to bark and jump about as pleased as Punch 'isself, and he'd go in among the crowd too and fetch back the babby as Punch pitched out o' winder, as tender with it as a Newfunland! And he warn't like the general run of Tobies neither, for he got quite thick with the Punch figger -- thought a deal on 'im, he did -- and if you'll believe me, when I 'ad to get the figger a noo 'ead and costoom, it broke the dawg's 'art -- he pined away quite rapid. But this 'ere one wouldn't turn a 'air if the 'ole company went to blazes together!'
+
+Here Bob, who had been setting up the show in one of the rooms, came into the kitchen, looking rather uneasy at finding himself in such fine company, and Dandy was spared further upbraidings, as he was called upon to follow the pair upstairs.
+
+They went up into a large handsome room, where at one end there were placed rows of rout seats and chairs, and at the other the homely old show, seeming oddly out of place in its new surroundings.
+
+Poor draggled Dandy felt more ashamed of it and himself than ever, and he was glad to get away under its ragged hangings and lie still by Bob's dirty boots till he was wanted.
+
+And then there was the sound of children's voices and laughter as they all came trooping in, with a crisp rustle of delicate dresses and a scent of hothouse flowers and kid gloves, that reached Dandy where he lay: it reminded him of evenings long ago when Hilda had had parties, and he had been washed and combed and decked out in ribbons for the occasion, and children had played with him and given him nice things to eat -- they had generally disagreed with him, but now he could only remember the pleasure and petting of it all.
+
+He would not be petted any more! Presently these children would see him smoking a pipe and being familiar with that low Punch. They would laugh at him too -- they always did -- and Dandy, like most dogs, hated being laughed at, and never took it as a compliment.
+
+The host's experiment was evidently a complete success: the children, even the most blasés, who danced the newest valse step and thought pantomines vulgar, were delighted to meet an old friend so unexpectedly. A good many had often yearned to see the whole show right through from beginning to end, and chance or a stern nurse had never permitted it. Now their time had come, and Mr. Punch, in spite of his lamentable shortcomings in every relation of life, was received with the usual uproarious applause.
+
+At last the hero called for his faithful dog Toby, as a distraction after the painful domestic scenes, in which he had felt himself driven to throw his child out of window and silence the objections of his wife by becoming a widower, and accordingly Dandy was caught up and set on the shelf by his side.
+
+The sudden glare hurt his eyes, and he sat there blinking at the audience with a pitiful want of pride in his dignity as Dog Toby.
+
+He tried to look as if he didn't know Punch, who was doing all he could to catch his eye, for his riotous 'rootitoot' made him shiver nervously, and long to get away from the whole thing and lie down somewhere in peace.
+
+Jem was scowling up at him balefully. 'I know'd that 'ere dawg would go and disgrace hisself,' he was saying to himself. 'When I get him to myself, he shall catch it for this!'
+
+Dandy was able to see better now, and he found, as he had guessed, that here was not one of his usual audiences -- no homely crowd of loitering errand boys, smirched maids-of-all-work, and ragged children jostling and turning their grinning white faces up to him.
+
+There were children here too -- plenty of them -- but children at their best and daintiest, and looking as if untidiness and quarrels were things unknown to them -- though possibly they were not. The laughter, however, was much the same as he was accustomed to, more musical perhaps, and pleasanter to hear, but quite as hearty and unrestrained -- they were laughing at him, and he hung his head abashed.
+
+But all at once he forgot his shame, though he did not remember Mr. Punch a bit the more for that; he ran backwards and forwards on his ledge, sniffing and whining, wagging his tail and giving short piteous barks in a state of the wildest excitement. The reason of it was this: near the end of the front row he saw a little girl who was bending eagerly forward with her pretty grey eyes wide open and a puzzled line on her forehead.
+
+Dandy knew her at the very first glance. It was Hilda, looking more like a fairy princess than ever.
+
+She knew him almost as soon, for her clear voice rang out above the general laughter. 'Oh, that isn't Toby -- he's my own dog, my Dandy, that I lost! It is really; let him come to me, please do! Don't you see how badly he wants to?'
+
+There was a sudden surprised silence at this -- even Mr. Punch was quiet for an instant; but as soon as Dandy heard her voice he could wait no longer, and crouched for a spring.
+
+'Catch the dog, somebody, he's going to jump!' cried the master of the house, more amused than ever, from behind.
+
+Jem was too sulky to interfere, but some good-natured grown-up person caught the trembling dog just in time to save him from a broken leg, or worse, and handed him to his delighted little mistress; and I think the frantic joy which Dandy felt as he was clasped tight in her loving arms once more and covered her flushed face with his eager kisses more than made up for all he had suffered.
+
+Hilda scornfully refused to have anything to do with Jem, who tried hard to convince her she was mistaken. She took her recovered favourite to her hostess.
+
+'He really is mine!' she assured her earnestly; and he doesn't want to be a Toby, I'm sure he doesn't: see how he trembles when that horrid man comes near. Dear Mrs. Lovibond, please tell them I'm to have him!'
+
+And of course Hilda carried her point, for the showmen were not unwilling, after a short conversation with the master of the house, to give up their rights in a dog who would never be much of an ornament to their profession, and was out of health into the bargain.
+
+Hilda held Dandy, all muddy and draggled as he was, fast in her arms all through the remainder of the performance, as if she was afraid Mr. Punch might still claim him for his own; and the dog lay there in measureless content. The hateful squeak made him start and shiver no more; he was too happy to howl at Jem's dismal pipes and drum: they had no terrors for him any more.
+
+'I think I should like to go home now,' she said to her hostess, when Mr. Punch had finally retired. 'Dandy is so excited; feel how his heart beats, just there, you know; he ought to be in bed, and I want to tell them all at home so much!'
+
+She resisted all despairing entreaties to stay, from several small partners who felt life a blank after she had gone -- till supper came; and so her carriage was called, and she and Dandy drove home in it together once more.
+
+'Dandy, you're very quiet,' she said once, as they bowled easily and swiftly along. 'Aren't you going to tell me you're glad to be mine again?'
+
+But Dandy could only wag his tail feebly and look up in her face with an exhausted sigh. He had suffered much and was almost worn out; but rest was coming to him at last.
+
+As soon as the carriage had stopped and the door was opened, Hilda ran in, breathless with excitement.
+
+'Oh, Parker, look!' she cried to the maid in the hall, 'Dandy is found -- he's here!'
+
+The maid took the lifeless little body from her, looked at it for a moment under the lamp, and turned away without speaking. Then she placed it gently in Hilda's arms again.
+
+'Oh, Miss Hilda, didn't you see?' she said, with a catch in her voice. 'Don't take on, now; but it's come too late -- poor little dog, he's gone!'
+
+ACCOMPANIED ON THE FLUTE.
+
+A TALE OF ANCIENT ROME.
+
+[Illustration: T]
+
+The Consul Duilius was entering Rome in triumph after his celebrated defeat of the Carthaginian fleet at Mylæ. He had won a great naval victory for his country with the first fleet that it had ever possessed -- which was naturally a gratifying reflection, and he would have been perfectly happy now, if he had only been a little more comfortable.
+
+But he was standing in an extremely rickety chariot, which was crammed with his nearer relations and a few old friends, to whom he had been obliged to send tickets. At his back stood a slave who held a heavy Etruscan crown on the Consul's head, and whenever he thought his master was growing conceited, threw in the reminder that he was only a man after all -- a liberty which at any other time he might have had good reason to regret.
+
+Then the large Delphic wreath, which Duilius wore as well as the crown, had slipped down over one eye and was tickling his nose, while -- as both his hands were occupied, one with a sceptre, the other with a laurel bough, and he had to hold on tightly to the rail of the chariot whenever it jolted -- there was nothing to do but suffer in silence.
+
+They had insisted, too, upon painting him a beautiful bright red all over, and though it made him look quite new, and very shining and splendid, he had his doubts at times whether it was altogether becoming, and particularly, whether he would ever be able to get it off again.
+
+But these were but trifles after all, and nothing compared with the honour and glory of it! Was not everybody straining to catch a glimpse of him? Did not even the spotted and skittish horses which drew the chariot repeatedly turn round to gaze upon his vermilioned features? As Duilius remarked this, he felt that he was, indeed, the central personage in all this magnificence, and that, on the whole, he liked it.
+
+He could see the beaks of the ships he had captured, bobbing up and down in the middle distance; he could see the white bulls destined for sacrifice entering completely into the spirit of the thing, and redeeming the procession from any monotony by occasionally bolting down a back street, or tossing on their gilded horns some of the flamens who were walking solemnly in front of them.
+
+He could hear, too, above five distinct brass bands, the remarks of his friends as they predicted rain, or expressed a pained surprise at the smallness of the crowd and the absence of any genuine enthusiasm; and he caught the general purport of the very offensive ribaldry circulated at his own expense among the brave legions that brought up the rear.
+
+This was merely the usual course of things on such occasions, and a great compliment when properly understood, and Duilius felt it to be so. In spite of his friends, and the red paint, and the familiar slave, in spite of the extreme heat of the weather and his itching nose, he told himself that this -- and this alone -- was worth living for.
+
+And it was a painful reflection to him that, after all, it would only last a day: he could not go on triumphing like this for the remainder of his natural life -- he would not be able to afford it on his moderate income; and yet -- and yet -- existence would fall woefully flat after so much excitement.
+
+It may be supposed that Duilius was naturally fond of ostentation and notoriety, but this was far from being the case; on the contrary, at ordinary times his disposition was retiring and almost shy; but his sudden success had worked a temporary change in him, and in the very flush of triumph he found himself sighing to think that, in all human probability, he would never go about with trumpeters and trophies, with flute-players and white oxen, any more in his whole life.
+
+And then he reached the Porta Triumphalis, where the chief magistrates and the Senate awaited them, all seated upon spirited Roman-nosed chargers, which showed a lively emotion at the approach of the procession, and caused some of their riders to dismount, with as much affectation of method and design as their dignity enjoined and the nature of the occasion permitted.
+
+There Duilius was presented with the freedom of the City and an address, which last he put in his pocket, as he explained, to read at home.
+
+And then an Ædile informed him in a speech, during which he twice lost his notes and had to be prompted by a lictor, that the grateful Republic, taking into consideration the Consul's distinguished services, had resolved to disregard expense, and on that auspicious day to give him whatever reward he might choose to demand -- 'in reason,' the Ædile added cautiously, as he quitted his saddle with an unexpectedness which scarcely seemed intentional.
+
+Duilius was naturally a little overwhelmed by such liberality, and, like everyone else favoured suddenly with such an opportunity, was quite incapable of taking complete advantage of it.
+
+For a time he really could not remember in his confusion anything he would care for at all, and he thought it might look mean to ask for money.
+
+At last he recalled his yearning for a Perpetual Triumph, but his natural modesty made him moderate, and he could not find courage to ask for more than a fraction of the glory that now attended him.
+
+So, not without some hesitation, he replied that they were exceedingly kind, and since they left it entirely to his discretion, he would like -- if they had no objection -- he would like a flute-player to attend him whenever he went out.
+
+Duilius very nearly asked for a white bull as well; but, on second thoughts, he felt it might lead to inconvenience, and there were many difficulties connected with the proper management of such an animal; the Consul, from what he had seen that day, felt that it would be imprudent to trust himself in front of the bull -- while, if he walked behind, he might be mistaken for a cattle-driver, which would be odious. And so he gave up that idea, and contented himself with a simple flute-player.
+
+The Senate, visibly relieved by so very unassuming a request, granted it with positive effusion; Duilius was invited to select his musician, and chose the biggest, after which the procession moved on through the Arch and up the Capitoline Hill, while the Consul had time to remember things he would have liked even better than a flute-player, and to suspect dimly that he might have made rather an ass of himself.
+
+* * * * *
+
+That night Duilius was entertained at a supper given at the public expense; he went out with the proud resolve to show his sense of the compliment paid him by scaling the giddiest heights of intoxication. The Romans of that day only drank wine and water at their festivals, but it is astonishing how inebriated a person of powerful will can become -- even on wine and water -- if he only gives his mind to it. And Duilius, being a man of remarkable determination, returned from that hospitable board particularly drunk; the flute-player saw him home, however, helped him to bed, though he could not induce him to take off his sandals, and lulled him to a heavy slumber by a selection from the popular airs of the time.
+
+So that the Consul, although he awoke late next day with a bad headache and a perception of the vanity of most things, still found reason to congratulate himself upon his forethought in securing so invaluable an attendant, and planned, rather hopefully, sundry little ways of making him useful about the house.
+
+As the subsequent history of this great naval commander is examined with the impartiality that becomes the historian, it is impossible to be blind to the melancholy fact that, in the first flush of his elation, Duilius behaved with an utter want of tact and taste that must have gone far to undermine his popularity, and proved a source of much gratification to his friends.
+
+He would use that flute-player everywhere -- he overdid the thing altogether: for example, he used to go out to pay formal calls, and leave the flute-player in the hall, tootling to such an extent that at last his acquaintances were forced in self-defence to deny themselves to him.
+
+When he attended worship at the temples, too, he would bring the flute-player with him, on the flimsy pretext that he could assist the choir during service; and it was the same at the theatres, where Duilius -- such was his arrogance -- actually would not take a box unless the manager admitted his flute-player to the orchestra and guaranteed him at least one solo between the acts.
+
+And it was the Consul's constant habit to strut about the Forum with his musician executing marches behind him, until the spectacle became so utterly ridiculous that even the Romans of that age, who were as free from the slightest taint of humour as a self-respecting nation can possibly be, began to notice something peculiar.
+
+But the day of retribution dawned at last. Duilius worked the flute so incessantly that the musician's stock of airs was very soon exhausted, and then he was naturally obliged to blow them all through once more.
+
+The excellent Consul had not a fine ear, but even he began to hail the fiftieth repetition of 'Pugnare nolumus,' for instance -- the great national peace anthem of the period -- with the feeling that he had heard the same tune at least twice before, and preferred something slightly fresher, while others had taken a much shorter time in arriving at the same conclusion.
+
+The elder Duilius, the Consul's father, was perhaps the most annoyed by it; he was a nice old man in his way -- the glass and china way -- but he was a typical old Roman, with a manly contempt for pomp, vanity, music, and the fine arts generally.
+
+So that his son's flute-player, performing all day in the court-yard, drove the old gentleman nearly mad, until he would rush to the windows and hurl the lighter articles of furniture at the head of the persistent musician, who, however, after dodging them with dexterity, affected to treat them as a recognition of his efforts, and carried them away gratefully to sell.
+
+Duilius senior would have smashed the flute, only it was never laid aside for a single instant, even at meals; he would have made the player drunk and incapable, but he was a member of the Manus Spei, and he would with cheerfulness have given him a heavy bribe to go away, if the honest fellow had not proved absolutely incorruptible.
+
+So he could only sit down and swear, and then relieve his feelings by giving his son a severe thrashing, with threats to sell him for whatever he might fetch: for, in the curious conditions of ancient Roman society, a father possessed both these rights, however his offspring might have distinguished himself in public life.
+
+Naturally, Duilius did not like the idea of being put up to auction, and he began to feel that it was slightly undignified for a Roman general who had won a naval victory and been awarded a first-class Triumph to be undergoing corporal punishment daily at the hands of an unflinching parent, and accordingly he determined to go and expostulate with his flute-player.
+
+He was beginning to find him a nuisance himself, for all his old shy reserve and unwillingness to attract attention had returned to him; he was fond of solitude, and yet he could never be alone; he was weary of doing everything to slow music, like the bold bad man in a melodrama.
+
+He could not even go across the street to purchase a postage-stamp without the flute-player coming stalking out after him, playing away like a public fountain; while, owing to the well-known susceptibility of a rabble to the charm of music, the disgusted Consul had to take his walks abroad at the head of Rome's choicest scum.
+
+Duilius, with a lively recollection of these inconveniences, would have spoken very seriously indeed to his musician, but he shrank from hurting his feelings by the plain truth. He simply explained that he had not intended the other to accompany him always, but only on special occasions; and, while professing the sincerest admiration for his musical proficiency, he felt, as he said, unwilling to monopolise it, and unable to enjoy it at the expense of a fellow-creature's rest and comfort.
+
+Perhaps he put the thing a little too delicately to secure the object he had in view, for the musician, although he was obviously deeply touched by such unwonted consideration, waived it aside with a graceful fervour that was quite irresistible.
+
+He assured the Consul that he was only too happy to have been selected to render his humble tribute to the naval genius of so eminent a commander; he would not admit that his own rest and comfort were in the least affected by his exertions, for, being naturally fond of the flute, he could, he protested, perform upon it continuously for whole days without fatigue. And he concluded by pointing out very respectfully that for the Consul to dispense, even to a small extent, with an honour decreed (at his own particular request) by the Republic, would have the appearance of ingratitude, and expose him to the gravest suspicions. After which he rendered the ancient love chant 'Ludus idem, ludus vetus,' with singular sweetness and expression.
+
+Duilius felt the force of his arguments: Republics are proverbially forgetful, and he was aware that it might not be safe, even for him, to risk offending the Senate.
+
+So he had nothing to do but just go on, and be followed about by the flute-player, and castigated by his parent in the old familiar way, until he had very little self-respect left.
+
+At last he found a distraction in his care-laden existence -- he fell deeply in love. But even here a musical Nemesis attended him, to his infinite embarrassment, in the person of his devoted follower. Sometimes Duilius would manage to elude him and slip out unseen to some sylvan retreat, where he had reason to hope for a meeting with the object of his adoration. He generally found that in this expectation he had not deceived himself; but always, just as he had found courage to speak of the passion that consumed him, a faint tune would strike his ear from afar, and, turning his head in a fury, he would see his faithful flute-player striding over the fields in pursuit of him with unquenchable ardour.
+
+He gave in at last, and submitted to the necessity of speaking all his tender speeches 'through music.' Claudia did not seem to mind it, perhaps finding an additional romance in being wooed thus, and Duilius himself, who was not eloquent, found that the flute came in very well at awkward pauses in the conversation.
+
+Then they were married, and, as Claudia played very nicely herself upon the tibiæ, she got up musical evenings, when she played duets with the flute-player, which Duilius, if he had only had a little more taste for music, might have enjoyed immensely.
+
+As it was, beginning to observe for the first time that the musician was far from uncomely, he forbade the duets. Claudia wept and sulked, and Claudia's mother said that Duilius was behaving like a brute, and she was not to mind him; but the harmony of their domestic life was broken, until the poor Consul was driven to take long country walks in sheer despair, not because he was fond of walking, for he hated it, but simply to keep the flute-player out of mischief.
+
+He was now debarred from all other society, for his old friends had long since cut him dead whenever he chanced to meet them. 'How could he expect people to stop and talk,' they asked indignantly, 'when there was that confounded fellow blowing tunes down the backs of their necks all the time?'
+
+Duilius had had enough of it himself, and felt this so strongly that one day he took his flute-player a long walk through a lonely wood, and, choosing a moment when his companion had played 'Id omnes faciunt' till he was somewhat out of breath, he turned on him suddenly. When he left the lonely wood he was alone, and somewhere in the undergrowth lay a broken flute, and near it something which looked as if it might once have been a musician.
+
+The Consul went home and sat there waiting for the deed to become generally known. He waited with a certain uneasiness, because it was impossible to tell how the Senate might take the thing, or the means by which their vengeance would declare itself.
+
+And yet his uneasiness was counterbalanced by a delicious relief: the State might disgrace, banish, put him to death even, but he had got rid of slow music for ever; and as he thought of this, the stately Duilius would snap his fingers and dance with secret delight.
+
+All disposition to dance, however, was forgotten upon the arrival of lictors bearing an official missive. He looked at it for a long time before he dared to break the big seal and cut the cord which bound the tablets which might contain his doom.
+
+He did it at last, and smiled with relief as he began to read; for the decree was courteously, almost affectionately, worded. The Senate, considering (or affecting to consider) the disappearance of the flute-player a mere accident, expressed their formal regret at the failure of the provision made in his honour.
+
+Then, as he read on, Duilius dashed the tablets into small fragments, and rolled on the ground, and tore his hair, and howled: for the Senatorial decree concluded by a declaration that, in consideration of his brilliant exploits, the State thereby placed at his disposal two more flute-players, who, it was confidently hoped, would survive the wear and tear of their ministrations longer than the first.
+
+Duilius retired to his room and made his will, taking care to have it properly signed and attested. Then he fastened himself in, and when they broke down the door next day, they found a lifeless corpse, with a strange sickly smile upon its pale lips.
+
+No one in Rome quite made out the reason of this smile, but it was generally thought to denote the gratification of the deceased at the idea of leaving his beloved ones in comfort, if not luxury; for, though the bulk of his fortune was left to Carthaginian charities, he had had the forethought to bequeath a flute-player apiece to his wife and mother-in-law.
+
+APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.
+
+PUBLISHED SEMIMONTHLY.
+
+1. The Steel Hammer. By LOUIS ULBACH.
+
+2. Eve. A Novel. By S. BARING-GOULD.
+
+3. For Fifteen Years. A Sequel to The Steel Hammer. By LOUIS ULBACH.
+
+4. A Counsel of Perfection. A Novel. By LUCAS MALET.
+
+5. The Deemster. A Romance. By HALL CAINE.
+
+5-1/2. The Bondman. (New edition.) By HALL CAINE.
+
+6. A Virginia Inheritance. By EDMUND PENDLETON.
+
+7. Ninette: An Idyll of Provence. By the author of Véra.
+
+8. "The Right Honourable." By JUSTIN MCCARTHY and Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+9. The Silence of Dean Maitland. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+10. Mrs. Lorimer: A Study in Black and White. By LUCAS MALET.
+
+11. The Elect Lady. By GEORGE MACDONALD.
+
+12. The Mystery of the "Ocean Star." By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+13. Aristocracy. A Novel.
+
+14. A Recoiling Vengeance. By FRANK BARRETT. With Illustrations.
+
+15. The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix. By MARGARET FIELD.
+
+16. The Master of Rathkelly. By HAWLEY SMART.
+
+17. Donovan: A Modern Englishman. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+18. This Mortal Coil. By GRANT ALLEN.
+
+19. A Fair Emigrant. By ROSA MULHOLLAND.
+
+20. The Apostate. By ERNEST DAUDET.
+
+21. Raleigh Westgate; or, Epimenides in Maine. By HELEN KENDRICK JOHNSON.
+
+22. Arius the Libyan;. A Romance of the Primitive Church.
+
+23. Constance, and Calbot's Rival. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
+
+24. We Two. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+25. A Dreamer of Dreams. By the author of Thoth.
+
+26. The Ladies' Gallery. By JUSTIN MCCARTHY and Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+27. The Reproach of Annesley. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+28. Near to Happiness.
+
+29. In the Wire Grass. By LOUIS PENDLETON.
+
+30. Lace. A Berlin Romance. By PAUL LINDAU.
+
+30-1/2. The Black Poodle. By F. ANSTEY.
+
+31. American Coin. A Novel. By the author of Aristocracy.
+
+32. Won by Waiting. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+33. The Story of Helen Davenant. By VIOLET FANE.
+
+34. The Light of Her Countenance. By H. H. BOYESEN.
+
+35. Mistress Beatrice Cope. By M. E. LE CLERC.
+
+36. The Knight-Errant. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+37. In the Golden Days. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+38. Giraldi; or, The Curse of Love. By ROSS GEORGE DERING.
+
+39. A Hardy Norseman. By EDNA LYALL.
+
+40. The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, and Sketches of Maritime Life. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+41. Passion's Slave. By RICHARD ASHE-KING.
+
+42. The Awakening of Mary Fenwick. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+43. Countess Loreley. Translated from the German of RUDOLF MENGER.
+
+44. Blind Love. By WILKIE COLLINS.
+
+45. The Dean's Daughter. By SOPHIE F. F. VEITCH.
+
+46. Countess Irene. A Romance of Austrian Life. By J. FOGERTY.
+
+47. Robert Browning's Principal Shorter Poems.
+
+48. Frozen Hearts. By G. WEBB APPLETON.
+
+49. Djambek the Georgian. By A.G. VON SUTTNER.
+
+50. The Craze of Christian Engelhart. By HENRY FAULKNER DARNELL.
+
+51. Lal. By WILLIAM A. HAMMOND, M. D.
+
+52. Aline. A Novel. By HENRY GRÉVILLE.
+
+53. Joost Avelingh. A Dutch Story. By MAARTEN MAARTENS.
+
+54. Katy of Catoctin. By GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND.
+
+55. Throckmorton. A Novel. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+56. Erpatriaton. By the author of Aristocracy.
+
+57. Geoffrey Hampstead. By T. S. JARVIS.
+
+58. Dmitri. A Romance of Old Russia. By F.W. BAIN, M.A.
+
+59. Part of the Property. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+60. Bismarck in Private Life. By a Fellow-Student.
+
+61. In Low Relief. By MORLEY ROBERTS.
+
+62. The Canadians of Old. A Historical Romance. By PHILIPPE GASPÉ.
+
+63. A Squire of Low Degree. By LILY A. LONG.
+
+64. A Fluttered Dovecote. By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
+
+65. The Nugents of Carriconna. An Irish Story. By TIGHE HOPKINS.
+
+66. A Sensitive Plant. By E. and D. GERARD.
+
+67. Doña Luz. By JUAN VALERA. Translated by Mrs. MARY J. SERRANO.
+
+68. Pepita Ximenez. By JUAN VALERA. Translated by Mrs. MARY J. SERRANO.
+
+69. The Primes and their Neighbors. By RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.
+
+70. The Iron Game. By HENRY F. KEENAN.
+
+71. Stories of Old New Spain. By THOMAS A. JANVIER.
+
+72. The Maid of Honor. By Hon. LEWIS WINGFIELD.
+
+73. In the Heart of the Storm. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+74. Consequences. By EGERTON CASTLE.
+
+75. The Three Miss Kings. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+76. A Matter of Skill. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+77. Maid Marian, and Other Stories. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+78. One Woman's Way. By EDMUND PENDLETON.
+
+79. A Merciful Divorce. By F. W. MAUDE.
+
+80. Stephen Ellicott's Daughter. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+81. One Reason Why. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+82. The Tragedy of Ida Noble. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+83. The Johnstown Stage, and other Stories. By ROBERT H. FLETCHER.
+
+84. A Widower Indeed. By RHODA BROUGHTON and ELIZABETH BISLAND.
+
+85. The Flight of a Shadow. By GEORGE MACDONALD.
+
+86. Love or Money. By KATHARINE LEE.
+
+87. Not All in Vain. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+88. It Happened Yesterday. By FREDERICK MARSHALL.
+
+89. My Guardian. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+90. The Story of Philip Methuen. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+91. Amethyst; The Story of a Beauty. By CHRISTABEL R. COLERIDGE.
+
+92. Don Braulio. By JUAN VALERA. Translated By CLARA BELL.
+
+93. The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams. By RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.
+
+94. A Queen of Curds and Cream. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+95. "La Bella" and Others. By EGERTON CASTLE.
+
+96. "December Roses." By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+97. Jean de Kerdren. By JEANNE SCHULTZ.
+
+98. Etelka's Vow. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+99. Cross Currents. By MARY A. DICKENS.
+
+100. His Life's Magnet. By THEODORA ELMSLIE.
+
+101. Passing the Love of Women. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+102. In Old St. Stephen's. By JEANIE DRAKE.
+
+103. The Berkeleys and their Neighbors. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+104. Mona Maclean, Medical Student. By GRAHAM TRAVERS.
+
+105. Mrs. Bligh. By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+106. A Stumble on the Threshold. By JAMES PAYN.
+
+107. Hanging Moss. By PAUL LINDAU.
+
+108. A Comedy of Elopement. By CHRISTIAN REID.
+
+109. In the Suntime of her Youth. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+110. Stories in Black and White. By THOMAS HARDY and Others.
+
+110-1/2. An Englishman in Paris. Notes and Recollections.
+
+111. Commander Mendoza. By JUAN VALERA.
+
+112. Dr. Paull's Theory. By Mrs. A. M. DIEHL.
+
+113. Children of Destiny. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.
+
+114. A Little Minx. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+115. Capt'n Davy's Honeymoon. By HALL CAINE.
+
+116. The Voice of a Flower. By E. GERARD.
+
+117. Singularly Deluded. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+118. Suspected. By LOUISA STRATENUS.
+
+119. Lucia, Hugh, and Another. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+120. The Tutor's Secret. By VICTOR CHERBULIEZ.
+
+121. From the Five Rivers. By Mrs. F. A. STEEL.
+
+122. An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+123. Ideala. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+124. A Comedy of Masks. By ERNEST DOWSON and ARTHUR MOORE.
+
+125. Relics. By FRANCES MACNAB.
+
+126. Dodo: A Detail of the Day. By E. F. BENSON.
+
+127. A Woman of Forty. By ESMÈ STUART.
+
+128. Diana Tempest. By MARY CHOLMONDELEY.
+
+129. The Recipe for Diamonds. By C. J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE.
+
+130. Christina Chard. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+131. A Gray Eye or So. By FRANK FRANKFORT MOORE.
+
+132. Earlscourt. By ALEXANDER ALLARDYCE.
+
+133. A Marriage Ceremony. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+134. A Ward in Chancery. By Mrs. ALEXANDER.
+
+135. Lot 13. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+136. Our Manifold Nature. By SARAH GRAND.
+
+137. A Costly Freak. By MAXWELL GRAY.
+
+138. A Beginner. By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+139. A Yellow Aster. By Mrs. MANNINGTON CAFFYN ("IOTA").
+
+140. The Rubicon. By E. F. BENSON.
+
+141. The Trespasser. By GILBERT PARKER.
+
+142. The Rich Miss Riddell. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+143. Mary Fenwick's Daughter. By BEATRICE WHITBY.
+
+144. Red Diamonds. By JUSTIN MCCARTHY.
+
+145. A Daughter of Music. By G. COLMORE.
+
+146. Outlaw and Lawmaker. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+147. Dr. Janet of Harley Street. By ARABELLA KENEALY.
+
+148. George Mandeville's Husband. By C. E. RAIMOND.
+
+149. Vashti and Esther.
+
+150. Timar's Two Worlds. By M. JOKAI.
+
+151. A Victim of Good Luck. By W. E. NORRIS.
+
+152. The Trail of the Sword. By GILBERT PARKER.
+
+153. A Mild Barbarian. By EDGAR FAWCETT.
+
+154. The God in the Car. By ANTHONY HOPE.
+
+155. Children of Circumstance. By Mrs. M. CAFFYN.
+
+156. At the Gate of Samaria. By WILLIAM J. LOCKE.
+
+157. The Justification of Andrew Lebrun. By FRANK BARRETT.
+
+158. Dust and Laurels. By MARY L. PENDERED.
+
+159. The Good Ship Mohock. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
+
+160. Noémi. By S. BARING-GOULD.
+
+161. The Honour of Savelli. By S. LEVETT YEATS.
+
+162. Kitty's Engagement. By FLORENCE WARDEN.
+
+163. The Mermaid. By L. DOUGALL.
+
+164. An Arranged Marriage. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+165. Eve's Ransom. By GEORGE GISSING.
+
+166. The Marriage of Esther. By GUY BOOTHBY.
+
+167. Fidelis. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.
+
+168. Into the Highways and Hedges. By F. F. MONTRÉSOR.
+
+169. The Vengeance of James Vansittart. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL.
+
+170. A Study in Prejudices. By GEORGE PASTON.
+
+171. The Mistress of Quest. By ADELINE SERGEANT.
+
+172. In the Year of Jubilee. By GEORGE GISSING.
+
+173. In Old New England. By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH.
+
+174. Mrs. Musgrave -- and Her Husband. By R. MARSH.
+
+175. Not Counting the Cost. By TASMA.
+
+176. Out of Due Season. By ADELINE SERGEANT.
+
+177. Scylla or Charybdis? By RHODA BROUGHTON.
+
+178. In Defiance of the King. By C. C. HOTCHKISS.
+
+179. A Bid for Fortune. By GUY BOOTHBY.
+
+180. The King of Andaman. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
+
+181. Mrs. Tregaskiss. By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED.
+
+182. The Desire of the Moth. By CAPEL VANE.
+
+183. A Self-Denying Ordinance. By M. HAMILTON.
+
+184. Successors to the Title. By Mrs. L. B. WALFORD. The Lost Stradivarius. By J. MEADE FALKNER.
+
+186. The Wrong Man. By DOROTHEA GERARD.
+
+187. In the Day of Adversity By J. BLOUNDELLE-BURTON.
+
+188. Mistress Dorothy Marvin. By J. C. SNAITH.
+
+189. A Flash of Summer. By Mrs. W. K. CLIFFORD.
+
+Each, 12mo, paper cover, 60 cents; cloth, $1.00,
+
+GEORG EBERS'S ROMANCES.
+
+Each, 16mo, paper, 4O cents per volume; cloth, 75 cents. Sets of 24 volumes, cloth, in box, $18.00.
+
+In the Blue Pike. A Romance of German Life in the early Sixteenth Century. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+In the Fire of the Forge. A Romance of Old Nuremberg. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 2 volumes.
+
+Cleopatra. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 2 volumes.
+
+A Thorny Path. (PER ASPERA.) Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+An Egyptian Princess. Translated by ELEANOR GROVE. 2 volumes.
+
+Uarda. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Homo Sum. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+The Sisters. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+A Question. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+The Emperor. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+The Burgomaster's Wife. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+A Word, only a Word. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+Serapis. Translated by CLARA BELL. 1 volume.
+
+The Bride of the Nile. Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Margery. (GRED.) Translated by CLARA BELL. 2 volumes.
+
+Joshua. Translated by MARY J. SAFFORD. 1 volume.
+
+The Elixir, and Other Tales. Translated by Mrs. EDWARD H. BELL. With Portrait of the Author. 1 volume.
+
+"Dr. Ebers's romances founded on ancient history are hardly equaled by any other living author.... He makes the men and women and the scenes move before the reader with living reality." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"Georg Ebers writes stories of ancient times with the conscientiousness of a true investigator. His tales are so carefully told that large portions of them might be clipped or quoted by editors of guide-books and authors of histories intended to be popular." -- New York Herald.
+
+For sale by all booksellers; or sent by mail on receipt of price by the publishers.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.
+
+SLEEPING FIRES. By GEORGE GISSING, author of "In the Year of Jubilee," "Eve's Ransom," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+In this striking story the author has treated an original motive with rare self-command and skill. His book is most interesting as a story, and remarkable as a literary performance.
+
+STONEPASTURES. By ELEANOR STUART. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"This is a strong bit of good literary workmanship.... The book has the value of being a real sketch of our own mining regions, and of showing how, even in the apparently dull round of work, there is still material for a good bit of literature." -- Philadelphia Ledger.
+
+COURTSHIP BY COMMAND. By M. M. BLAKE. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"A bright, moving study of an unusually interesting period in the life of Napoleon, ... deliciously told; the characters are clearly, strongly, and very delicately modeled, and the touches of color most artistically done. 'Courtship by Command' is the most satisfactory Napoleon bonne-bouche we have had." -- New York Commercial Advertiser.
+
+THE WATTER'S MOU'. By BRAM STOKER. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"Here is a tale to stir the most sluggish nature.... It is like standing on the deck of a wave-tossed ship; you feel the soul of the storm go into your blood." -- N. Y. Home Journal.
+
+"The characters are strongly drawn, the descriptions are intensely dramatic, and the situations are portrayed with rare vividness of language. It is a thrilling story, told with great power." -- Boston Advertiser.
+
+MASTER AND MAN. By Count LEO TOLSTOY. With an Introduction by W. D. HOWELLS. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"Crowded with these characteristic touches which mark his literary work." -- Public Opinion.
+
+"Reveals a wonderful knowledge of the workings of the human mind, and it tells a tale that not only stirs the emotions, but gives us a better insight into our own hearts." -- San Francisco Argonaut.
+
+THE ZEIT-GEIST. By L. DOUGALL, author of "The Mermaid," "Beggars All," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"One of the best of the short stories of the day." -- Boston Journal.
+
+"One of the most remarkable novels of the year." -- New York Commercial Advertiser.
+
+"Powerful in conception, treatment, and influence." -- Boston Globe.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+A STREET IN SUBURBIA. By EDWIN PUGH. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Simplicity of style, strength, and delicacy of character study will mark this book as one of the most significant of the year." -- New York Press.
+
+"Thoroughly entertaining, and more -- it shows traces of a creative genius something akin to Dickens." -- Boston Traveller.
+
+"In many respects the best of all the books of lighter literature brought out this season." -- Providence News.
+
+"Highly pleasing and gracefully recorded reminiscences of early suburban life and youthful experience told in a congenial spirit and in very charming prose." -- Boston Courier.
+
+MAJESTY. A Novel. By LOUIS COUPERUS. Translated by A. TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS and ERNEST DOWSON. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"There have been many workers among novelists in the field of royal portraiture, but it may be safely stated that few of those who have essayed this dubious path have achieved more striking results than M. Couperus. 'Majesty' is an extraordinarily vivid romance of autocratic imperialism." -- London Academy.
+
+"No novelist whom we can call to mind has ever given the world such a masterpiece of royal portraiture as Louis Couperus's striking romance entitled 'Majesty.'" -- Philadelphia Record.
+
+"There is not an uninteresting page in the book, and it ought to be read by all who desire to keep in line with the best that is published in modern fiction." -- Buffalo Commercial.
+
+THE NEW MOON. By C. E. RAIMOND, author of "George Mandeville's Husband," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"A delicate pathos makes itself felt as the narrative progresses, whose cadences fall on the spirit's consciousness with a sweet and soothing influence not to be measured in words." -- Boston Courier.
+
+"One of the most impressive of recent works of fiction, both for its matter and especially for its presentation." -- Milwaukee Journal.
+
+"An intensely interesting story. A curious interweaving of old superstitions which govern a nervous woman's selfish life, and the brisk, modern ways of a wholesome English girl." -- Philadelphia Ledger.
+
+THE WISH. A Novel. By HERMANN SUDERMANN. With a Biographical Introduction by ELIZABETH LEE. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Contains some superb specimens of original thought." -- New York World.
+
+"The style is direct and incisive, and holds the unflagging attention of the reader." -- Boston Journal.
+
+"A powerful story, very simple, very direct." -- Chicago Evening Post.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+GILBERT PARKER'S BEST BOOKS.
+
+THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Being the Memoirs of Captain ROBERT MORAY, sometime an Officer in the Virginia Regiment, and afterward of Amherst's Regiment. 12mo. Cloth, illustrated, $1.50.
+
+For the time of his story Mr. Parker has chosen the most absorbing period of the romantic eighteenth-century history of Quebec. The curtain rises soon after General Braddock's defeat in Virginia, and the hero, a prisoner in Quebec, curiously entangled in the intrigues of La Pompadour, becomes a part of a strange history, full of adventure and the stress of peril, which culminates only after Wolfe's victory over Montcalm. The material offered by the life and history of old Quebec has never been utilized for the purposes of fiction with the command of plot and incident, the mastery of local color, and the splendid realization of dramatic situations shown in this distinguished and moving romance. The illustrations preserve the atmosphere of the text, for they present the famous buildings, gates, and battle grounds as they appeared at the time of the hero's imprisonment in Quebec.
+
+THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. A Novel. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Mr. Parker here adds to a reputation already wide, and anew demonstrates his power of pictorial portrayal and of strong dramatic situation and climax." -- Philadelphia Bulletin.
+
+"The tale holds the reader's interest from first to last, for it is full of fire and spirit, abounding in incident, and marked by good character drawing." -- Pittsburg Times.
+
+THE TRESPASSER. 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
+
+"Interest, pith, force, and charm -- Mr. Parker's new story possesses all these qualities.... Almost bare of synthetical decoration, his paragraphs are stirring because they are real. We read at times -- as we have read the great masters of romance -- breathlessly." -- The Critic.
+
+"Gilbert Parker writes a strong novel, but thus far this is his masterpiece.... It is one of the great novels of the year." -- Boston Advertiser.
+
+THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 16mo. Flexible cloth, 75 cents.
+
+"A book which no one will be satisfied to put down until the end has been matter of certainty and assurance." -- The Nation.
+
+"A story of remarkable interest, originality, and ingenuity of construction." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"The perusal of this romance will repay those who care for new and original types of character, and who are susceptible to the fascination of a fresh and vigorous style." -- London Daily News.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+There is a flavor of Dumas's Musketeers in the life of the redoubtable Brigadier Gerard, a typical Napoleonic soldier, more fortunate than many of his compeers because some of his Homeric exploits were accomplished under the personal observation of the Emperor. His delightfully romantic career included an oddly characteristic glimpse of England, and his adventures ranged from the battlefield to secret service. In picturing the experiences of his fearless, hard-fighting and hard-drinking hero, the author of "The White Company" has given us a book which absorbs the interest and quickens the pulse of every reader.
+
+THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS. Being a Series of Twelve Letters written by STARK MUNRO, M. B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. Illustrated. 12mo. Buckram, $1.50.
+
+"Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock Holmes, and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him." -- Richard le Gallienne, in the London Star.
+
+"Every one who wants a hearty laugh must make acquaintance with Dr. James Cullingworth." -- Westminster Gazette.
+
+"Every one must read; for not to know Cullingworth should surely argue one's self to be unknown." -- Pall Mall Gazette.
+
+"One of the freshest figures to be met with in any recent fiction." -- London Daily News.
+
+"'The Stark Munro Letters' is a bit of real literature.... Its reading will be an epoch-making event in many a life." -- Philadelphia Evening Telegraph.
+
+"Positively magnetic, and written with that combined force and grace for which the author's style is known." -- Boston Budget.
+
+SEVENTH EDITION.
+
+ROUND THE RED LAMP. Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Too much can not be said in praise of these strong productions, that, to read, keep one's heart leaping to the throat and the mind in a tumult of anticipation to the end.... No series of short stories in modern literature can approach them." -- Hartford Times.
+
+"If Mr. A. Conan Doyle had not already placed himself in the front rank of living English writers by 'The Refugees,' and other of his larger stories, he would surely do so by these fifteen short tales." -- New York Mail and Express.
+
+"A strikingly realistic and decidedly original contribution to modern literature." -- Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+BY S. R. CROCKETT.
+
+CLEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CITY. His Progress and Adventures. Uniform with "The Lilac Sunbonnet" and "Bog-Myrtle and Peat." Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+It is safe to predict for the quaint and delightful figure of Cleg Kelly a notable in the literature of the day. Mr. Crockett's signal success in his new field will enlarge the wide circle of his admirers. The lights and shadows of curious phases of Edinburgh life, and of Scotch farm and railroad life, are pictured with an intimate sympathy, richness of humor, and truthful pathos which make this new novel a genuine addition to literature. It seems safe to say that at least two characters -- Cleg and Muckle Alick -- are likely to lead Mr. Crockett's heroes in popular favor. The illustrations of this fascinating novel have been the result of most faithful and sympathetic study.
+
+BOG-MYRTLE AND PEAT. Third edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"Here are idyls, epics, dramas of human life, written in words that thrill and burn.... Each is a poem that has an immortal flavor. They are fragments of the author's early dreams, too bright, too gorgeous, too full of the blood of rubies and the life of diamonds to be caught and held palpitating in expression's grasp." -- Boston Courier.
+
+"Hardly a sketch among them all that will not afford pleasure to the reader for its genial humor, artistic local coloring, and admirable portrayal of character." -- Boston Home Journal.
+
+"One dips into the book anywhere and reads on and on, fascinated by the writer's charm of manner." -- Minneapolis Tribune.
+
+THE LILAC SUNBONNET. Sixth edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+"A love story pure and simple, one of the old-fashioned, wholesome, sunshiny kind, with a pure-minded, sound-hearted hero, and a heroine who is merely a good and beautiful woman; and if any other love story half so sweet has been written this year, it has escaped our notice." -- New York Times.
+
+"The general conception of the story, the motive of which is the growth of love between the young chief and heroine, is delineated with a sweetness and a freshness, a naturalness and a certainty, which places 'The Lilac Sunbonnet' among the best stories of the time." -- New York Mail and Express.
+
+"In its own line this little love story can hardly be excelled. It is a pastoral, an idyl -- the story of love and courtship and marriage of a fine young man and a lovely girl -- no more. But it is told in so thoroughly delightful a manner, with such playful humor, such delicate fancy, such true and sympathetic feeling, that nothing more could be desired." -- Boston Traveller.
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+THE ONE WHO LOOKED ON. By F. F. MONTRÉSOR, author of "Into the Highways and Hedges." 16mo. Cloth, special binding, $1.25.
+
+"The story runs on as smoothly as a brook through lowlands; it excites your interest at the beginning and keeps it to the end." -- New York Herald.
+
+"An exquisite story.... No person sensitive to the influence of what makes for the true, the lovely, and the strong in human friendship and the real in life's work can read this book without being benefited by it." -- Buffalo Commercial.
+
+"The book has universal interest and very unusual merit.... Aside from its subtle poetic charm, the book is a noble example of the power of keen observation." -- Boston Herald.
+
+CORRUPTION. By PERCY WHITE, author of "Mr. Bailey-Martin," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"There is intrigue enough in it for those who love a story of the ordinary kind, and the political part is perhaps more attractive in its sparkle and variety of incident than the real thing itself." -- London Daily News.
+
+"A drama of biting intensity, a tragedy of inflexible purpose and relentless result." -- Pall Mall Gazette.
+
+A HARD WOMAN. A Story in Scenes. By VIOLET HUNT. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"An extremely clever work. Miss Hunt probably writes dialogue better than any of our young novelists.... Not only are her conversations wonderfully vivacious and sustained, but she contrives to assign to each of her characters a distinct mode of speech, so that the reader easily identifies them, and can follow the conversations without the slightest difficulty." -- London Athenæum.
+
+"One of the best writers of dialogue of our immediate day. The conversations in this book will enhance her already secure reputation." -- London Daily Chronicle.
+
+"A creation that does Miss Hunt infinite credit, and places her in the front rank of the younger novelists.... Brilliantly drawn, quivering with life, adroit, quiet-witted, unfalteringly insolent, and withal strangely magnetic." -- London Standard.
+
+AN IMAGINATIVE MAN. By ROBERT S. HICHENS, author of "The Green Carnation." 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.
+
+"One of the brightest books of the year." -- Boston Budget.
+
+"Altogether delightful, fascinating, unusual." -- Cleveland Amusement Gazette.
+
+"A study in character.... Just as entertaining as though it were the conventional story of love and marriage. The clever hand of the author of 'The Green Carnation' is easily detected in the caustic wit and pointed epigram." -- Jeannette L. Gilder, in the New York World.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/5957/metadata.json b/test/5957/metadata.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..3c72a3794cf3b68a428870d99901f6de8641af4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/5957/metadata.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"id": "5957", "title": "Black Poodle and Other Tales", "description": "This is a collection of ten humorous short stories (Summary by Carolin)", "url_text_source": "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37235", "language": "English", "copyright_year": "1896", "num_sections": "20", "url_rss": "https://librivox.org/rss/5957", "url_zip_file": "https://www.archive.org/download/black_poodle_1112_librivox/black_poodle_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3.zip", "url_project": "", "url_librivox": "https://librivox.org/the-black-poodle-and-other-tales-by-anstey-f/", "url_other": "", "totaltime": "6:49:09", "totaltimesecs": 24549, "authors": [{"id": "1631", "first_name": "F.", "last_name": "Anstey", "dob": "1856", "dod": "1934"}], "genre": ["General Fiction", "Humorous Fiction", "Short Stories"], "Dramatic Readings": false, "meta_genre": "Literature", "speaker_info": {"names": ["blackpoodle_01_anstey", "blackpoodle_02_anstey", "blackpoodle_03_anstey", "blackpoodle_04_anstey", "blackpoodle_05_anstey", "blackpoodle_06_anstey", "blackpoodle_07_anstey", "blackpoodle_08_anstey", "blackpoodle_09_anstey", "blackpoodle_10_anstey", "blackpoodle_11_anstey", "blackpoodle_12_anstey", "blackpoodle_13_anstey", "blackpoodle_14_anstey", "blackpoodle_15_anstey", "blackpoodle_16_anstey", "blackpoodle_17_anstey", "blackpoodle_18_anstey", "blackpoodle_19_anstey", "blackpoodle_20_anstey"], "readers": [["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["6907"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["4992"], ["6907"], ["6907"], ["4992"]]}}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/test/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json b/test/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json
new file mode 100644
index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..304ae6416222445fde999751077a3c1b1e5175bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/test/7585/8131/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.json
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+{"text_src": "7585/clean_text.txt", "librivox_src": "8131/police_your_planet_ca_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeyourplanet_12_delray_64kb.flac", "speaker_id": "8131", "quotations": [{"text": "\"No wonder the boys couldn't find where you'd stashed him, Mother. Must be a bloody big false section you've got in that trick mattress of yours!\"", "start_byte": 165502, "end_byte": 165648, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 63.52000045776367, "end_time": 72.5199966430664, "cut_start_time": 64.12500045776368, "cut_end_time": 71.82000045776367, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Big enough for him and for Trench, Izzy,", "start_byte": 165650, "end_byte": 165691, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 72.5199966430664, "end_time": 75.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 72.9649966430664, "cut_end_time": 75.1701216430664, "narrative_prediction": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Had to be big to fit me.\"", "start_byte": 165731, "end_byte": 165757, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 78.27999877929688, "end_time": 80.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 78.47499877929687, "cut_end_time": 80.14006127929687, "narrative_prediction": {"agreed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"You mean you hid Trench out, too?", "start_byte": 165759, "end_byte": 165793, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 80.63999938964844, "end_time": 82.72000122070312, "cut_start_time": 81.05499938964843, "cut_end_time": 82.82012438964843, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"A respectable landlord has to protect himself, Izzy. For hiding and a convoy back, our Captain Trench gave me a paper with immunity from the Municipal Force. Used that, with a bit of my old reputation, to get your Mayor Gannett to give me the same from the Legals. Gannett didn't want Mother Corey to think the Municipals were kinder than the Legals, so you're in the only neutral territory in Marsport. Not that you deserve it.\"", "start_byte": 165880, "end_byte": 166310, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 88.55999755859375, "end_time": 120.31999969482422, "cut_start_time": 88.95499755859375, "cut_end_time": 118.68006005859374, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Lay off, Mother,", "start_byte": 166312, "end_byte": 166329, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 120.31999969482422, "end_time": 121.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 120.59499969482421, "cut_end_time": 121.54012469482421, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals.\"", "start_byte": 166350, "end_byte": 166532, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 122.87999725341797, "end_time": 135.39999389648438, "cut_start_time": 123.13499725341796, "cut_end_time": 134.67005975341797, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"And get your rating upped to a lieutenant,", "start_byte": 166534, "end_byte": 166577, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 135.39999389648438, "end_time": 137.9600067138672, "cut_start_time": 135.75499389648436, "cut_end_time": 138.01011889648436, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Without telling cobber Gordon!\"", "start_byte": 166602, "end_byte": 166634, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 139.60000610351562, "end_time": 142.52000427246094, "cut_start_time": 139.78500610351563, "cut_end_time": 141.4700686035156, "narrative_prediction": {"observed": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Like I say, honesty pays, Mother -- when you know how to collect. Hell, I figured Bruce would do the same. He's a right gee.\"", "start_byte": 166636, "end_byte": 166762, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 142.52000427246094, "end_time": 152.16000366210938, "cut_start_time": 142.79500427246094, "cut_end_time": 151.29006677246093, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Yeah, when he forgets he's a machine. How about a game of shanks?\"", "start_byte": 166787, "end_byte": 166854, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 154.63999938964844, "end_time": 159.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 154.90499938964842, "cut_end_time": 158.84006188964844, "narrative_prediction": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Hi, Cuddles,", "start_byte": 167711, "end_byte": 167724, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 224.24000549316406, "end_time": 225.27999877929688, "cut_start_time": 224.49500549316406, "cut_end_time": 225.37000549316406, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Hello, Bruce. You okay?\"", "start_byte": 167840, "end_byte": 167865, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 236.55999755859375, "end_time": 239.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 236.84499755859375, "cut_end_time": 239.30012255859376, "narrative_prediction": {"was": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}, "uncertain": {"id": "1", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\"How long have I been like this?\"", "start_byte": 167867, "end_byte": 167900, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 239.36000061035156, "end_time": 243.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 239.33500061035156, "cut_end_time": 242.85006311035156, "narrative_prediction": {"uncertain": {"id": "0", "type": "adjective", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\"Fifteen hours, I guess. It's almost midnight.", "start_byte": 167902, "end_byte": 167948, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 243.32000732421875, "end_time": 248.39999389648438, "cut_start_time": 243.76500732421874, "cut_end_time": 248.06000732421873, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Are you hungry? There's some canned soup -- I took the money from your pocket. Or coffee...\"", "start_byte": 168017, "end_byte": 168110, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 253.8800048828125, "end_time": 263.0400085449219, "cut_start_time": 254.3150048828125, "cut_end_time": 261.99006738281247, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Coffee.", "start_byte": 168112, "end_byte": 168120, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 263.0400085449219, "end_time": 263.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 263.3950085449219, "cut_end_time": 263.9000085449219, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Why'd you come back?", "start_byte": 168345, "end_byte": 168366, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 285.8399963378906, "end_time": 287.20001220703125, "cut_start_time": 286.2849963378907, "cut_end_time": 287.23012133789064, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"You were anxious enough to pick the lock and get out.\"", "start_byte": 168387, "end_byte": 168442, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 289.0, "end_time": 292.20001220703125, "cut_start_time": 289.32500000000005, "cut_end_time": 291.96006250000005, "narrative_prediction": {"asked": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "suddenly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"I didn't pick it -- you forgot to lock it.\"", "start_byte": 168444, "end_byte": 168488, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 292.20001220703125, "end_time": 296.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 292.75501220703126, "cut_end_time": 295.38001220703126, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Okay, my mistake. But why the change of heart?\"", "start_byte": 168552, "end_byte": 168600, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 300.3999938964844, "end_time": 304.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 300.5449938964844, "cut_end_time": 303.8601188964844, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Because I needed a meal ticket!", "start_byte": 168602, "end_byte": 168634, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 304.32000732421875, "end_time": 306.32000732421875, "cut_start_time": 304.75500732421875, "cut_end_time": 306.4200698242188, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harshly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"When I saw that Legal cop ready to take you, I had to go running out to save you. Because I don't have the iron guts to starve like a Martian!\"", "start_byte": 168654, "end_byte": 168798, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 307.67999267578125, "end_time": 317.0, "cut_start_time": 307.99499267578125, "cut_end_time": 315.8400551757813, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "harshly": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"You're a fool!", "start_byte": 168943, "end_byte": 168958, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 328.79998779296875, "end_time": 330.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 329.48498779296875, "cut_end_time": 330.3400502929688, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"I'll stick to my chances. I don't have any others now.", "start_byte": 169127, "end_byte": 169182, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 343.0400085449219, "end_time": 347.0799865722656, "cut_start_time": 343.1950085449219, "cut_end_time": 347.1800085449219, "narrative_prediction": {"told": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "bitterly": {"id": "0", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"You get things done. Now that you've got a wife to support, you'll support her. Just remember, it was your idea.\"", "start_byte": 169198, "end_byte": 169312, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 348.8399963378906, "end_time": 358.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 349.50499633789065, "cut_end_time": 358.32005883789066, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"I've got a wife who's holding onto a notebook that belongs to me, then. Where is it?\"", "start_byte": 169350, "end_byte": 169436, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 361.7200012207031, "end_time": 368.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 362.23500122070317, "cut_end_time": 367.32000122070315, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"I'm keeping the notebook for insurance. Blackmail, Bruce. You should understand that! And you won't find it, so don't bother looking...", "start_byte": 169458, "end_byte": 169594, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 370.55999755859375, "end_time": 380.9599914550781, "cut_start_time": 371.0349975585938, "cut_end_time": 380.64006005859375, "narrative_prediction": {"shook": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\"Special prisoners,", "start_byte": 173989, "end_byte": 174008, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 695.239990234375, "end_time": 696.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 695.444990234375, "cut_end_time": 696.620115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"I've got to get information to Trench -- and in private!\"", "start_byte": 174035, "end_byte": 174093, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 698.0800170898438, "end_time": 702.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 698.3550170898437, "cut_end_time": 701.9000170898438, "narrative_prediction": {"told": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "sharply": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Outside!", "start_byte": 174484, "end_byte": 174493, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 726.719970703125, "end_time": 727.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 726.8849707031251, "cut_end_time": 727.580033203125, "narrative_prediction": {}}, {"text": "\"Oh, it's you, Gordon?\"", "start_byte": 174593, "end_byte": 174616, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 734.4000244140625, "end_time": 736.5599975585938, "cut_start_time": 734.8650244140625, "cut_end_time": 736.2300244140625, "narrative_prediction": {"snapped": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Where's Captain Trench?\"", "start_byte": 174618, "end_byte": 174643, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 736.5599975585938, "end_time": 738.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 736.9249975585938, "cut_end_time": 738.2700600585938, "narrative_prediction": {"snapped": {"id": "0", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"Commissioner Trench, Gordon. It seems Arliss decided to get rid of Mayor Wayne, but didn't count on Wayne's spies being better than his. So Trench got promoted -- and I got his job for loyal service in helping the Force recruit. My boys always wanted to be cops, you know.\"", "start_byte": 174699, "end_byte": 174973, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 742.52001953125, "end_time": 761.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 742.73501953125, "cut_end_time": 760.79008203125, "narrative_prediction": {"chuckled": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"I sent Ape and Mullins out to get in touch with you,", "start_byte": 175073, "end_byte": 175126, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 768.239990234375, "end_time": 771.4400024414062, "cut_start_time": 768.834990234375, "cut_end_time": 771.540115234375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"But I guess they didn't reach you before you left.\"", "start_byte": 175142, "end_byte": 175194, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 772.3599853515625, "end_time": 776.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 772.7049853515625, "cut_end_time": 775.0700478515625, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}, {"text": "\"They hadn't arrived when I left the house,", "start_byte": 175278, "end_byte": 175321, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 781.5999755859375, "end_time": 783.9199829101562, "cut_start_time": 781.9849755859375, "cut_end_time": 784.0000380859375, "narrative_prediction": {"said": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}, "truthfully": {"id": "1", "type": "adverb", "confidence": 9}}}, {"text": "\"Captain Bruce Gordon, with two prisoners -- bodyguards of Captain Jurgens,", "start_byte": 177144, "end_byte": 177219, "is_quote": true, "start_time": 908.0, "end_time": 913.9600219726562, "cut_start_time": 908.575, "cut_end_time": 913.7000625000001, "narrative_prediction": {"reported": {"id": "1", "type": "verb", "confidence": 10}}}], "narrations": [{"text": "There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door closing.", "start_byte": 165210, "end_byte": 165356, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 41.7599983215332, "end_time": 51.279998779296875, "cut_start_time": 42.2049983215332, "cut_end_time": 50.77006082153321}, {"text": "Steps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of two men crossing the room, one with the heavy shuffle of Mother Corey.", "start_byte": 165358, "end_byte": 165500, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 51.279998779296875, "end_time": 63.52000045776367, "cut_start_time": 51.63499877929688, "cut_end_time": 62.85012377929688}, {"text": " Mother Corey's wheezing voice agreed.", "start_byte": 165692, "end_byte": 165730, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 75.36000061035156, "end_time": 78.27999877929688, "cut_start_time": 75.64500061035156, "cut_end_time": 77.80000061035156}, {"text": " Izzy asked.", "start_byte": 165794, "end_byte": 165806, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 82.72000122070312, "end_time": 84.19999694824219, "cut_start_time": 82.69500122070312, "cut_end_time": 83.65000122070312}, {"text": "There was a thick chuckle and the sound of hands being rubbed together.", "start_byte": 165808, "end_byte": 165879, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 84.19999694824219, "end_time": 88.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 84.70499694824218, "cut_end_time": 88.14005944824218}, {"text": " Izzy said sharply.", "start_byte": 166330, "end_byte": 166349, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 121.44000244140625, "end_time": 122.87999725341797, "cut_start_time": 121.41500244140624, "cut_end_time": 122.71000244140625}, {"text": " Mother Corey observed.", "start_byte": 166578, "end_byte": 166601, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 137.9600067138672, "end_time": 139.60000610351562, "cut_start_time": 137.93500671386718, "cut_end_time": 139.21006921386717}, {"text": "Mother Corey chuckled.", "start_byte": 166764, "end_byte": 166786, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 152.16000366210938, "end_time": 154.63999938964844, "cut_start_time": 152.91500366210937, "cut_end_time": 154.14000366210936}, {"text": "The steps moved away; the door closed again. Bruce Gordon got both eyes open and managed to sit up. The effects of the drug were almost gone, but it took a straining of every nerve to reach his uniform pouch. His fingers, clumsy and uncertain, groped back and forth for a badge that wasn't there!", "start_byte": 166856, "end_byte": 167152, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 159.63999938964844, "end_time": 182.36000061035156, "cut_start_time": 160.51499938964844, "cut_end_time": 181.67012438964844}, {"text": "He heard the door open softly, but made no effort to look up. The reaction from his effort had drained him.", "start_byte": 167154, "end_byte": 167261, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 182.36000061035156, "end_time": 190.9600067138672, "cut_start_time": 183.05500061035156, "cut_end_time": 189.90006311035157}, {"text": "Fingers touched his head carefully, brushing the hair back delicately from the side of his skull. Then there was the biting sting of antiseptic, sharp enough to bring a groan from his lips. Sheila's hair fell over her face as she bent to replace his bandages.", "start_byte": 167263, "end_byte": 167522, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 190.9600067138672, "end_time": 210.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 191.3650067138672, "cut_end_time": 208.78000671386718}, {"text": "Her eyes wandered toward his, and the scissors and bandages on her lap hit the floor as she jumped to her feet. She turned toward her room, then hesitated as he grinned crookedly at her.", "start_byte": 167524, "end_byte": 167710, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 210.55999755859375, "end_time": 224.24000549316406, "cut_start_time": 210.53499755859374, "cut_end_time": 223.63012255859374}, {"text": " he said flatly.", "start_byte": 167725, "end_byte": 167741, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 225.27999877929688, "end_time": 227.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 225.26499877929686, "cut_end_time": 226.70012377929686}, {"text": "She bit her lips and turned back, while a slow flush ran over her face. Her voice was uncertain.", "start_byte": 167743, "end_byte": 167839, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 227.44000244140625, "end_time": 236.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 227.99500244140626, "cut_end_time": 235.53000244140625}, {"text": " She bent over to pick up the bandages and to finish with his head.", "start_byte": 167949, "end_byte": 168016, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 248.39999389648438, "end_time": 253.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 248.71499389648437, "cut_end_time": 252.96011889648437}, {"text": " He forced himself up again; Sheila propped the flimsy pillow behind him, then went into her room to come back with a plastic cup filled with brown liquid that passed for coffee here. It was loaded with caffeine, at least.", "start_byte": 168121, "end_byte": 168343, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 263.79998779296875, "end_time": 285.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 263.7749877929688, "cut_end_time": 285.2100502929688}, {"text": " he asked suddenly.", "start_byte": 168367, "end_byte": 168386, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 287.20001220703125, "end_time": 289.0, "cut_start_time": 287.1750122070313, "cut_end_time": 288.8500122070313}, {"text": "He couldn't remember what he'd done after he found the badge.", "start_byte": 168490, "end_byte": 168551, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 296.239990234375, "end_time": 300.3999938964844, "cut_start_time": 296.864990234375, "cut_end_time": 299.760052734375}, {"text": " she said harshly.", "start_byte": 168635, "end_byte": 168653, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 306.32000732421875, "end_time": 307.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 306.2950073242188, "cut_end_time": 307.45000732421875}, {"text": "It rocked him back on his mental heels. He'd thought that she had been attacking him on the street; but it made more sense this way, at that.", "start_byte": 168800, "end_byte": 168941, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 317.0, "end_time": 328.79998779296875, "cut_start_time": 317.77500000000003, "cut_end_time": 327.63}, {"text": " he told her bitterly. \"You bought a punched meal ticket. Right now, I probably have six death warrants out on me, and about as much chance of making a living as -- \"", "start_byte": 168959, "end_byte": 169125, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 330.239990234375, "end_time": 343.0, "cut_start_time": 330.214990234375, "cut_end_time": 341.14005273437505}, {"text": " She grimaced.", "start_byte": 169183, "end_byte": 169197, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 347.0799865722656, "end_time": 348.8399963378906, "cut_start_time": 347.05498657226565, "cut_end_time": 348.02004907226564}, {"text": "He'd had a lot of ideas, it seemed.", "start_byte": 169314, "end_byte": 169349, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 358.79998779296875, "end_time": 361.7200012207031, "cut_start_time": 359.23498779296875, "cut_end_time": 361.26011279296876}, {"text": "She shook her head.", "start_byte": 169438, "end_byte": 169457, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 368.3999938964844, "end_time": 370.55999755859375, "cut_start_time": 368.8749938964844, "cut_end_time": 369.9600563964844}, {"text": " She went into the other room and shut the door. There was the sound of the lock being worked, and then silence.", "start_byte": 169595, "end_byte": 169707, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 380.9599914550781, "end_time": 388.5199890136719, "cut_start_time": 381.3349914550781, "cut_end_time": 387.84005395507813}, {"text": "He stared at the door foolishly, swearing at all women; then grimaced and turned back to the chair where his uniform still lay. He could stay here fighting with her, or he could face his troubles on the outside. The whole thing hinged on Trench; unless Trench had shown the badge to others, his problem boiled down to a single man.", "start_byte": 169709, "end_byte": 170040, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 388.5199890136719, "end_time": 413.2799987792969, "cut_start_time": 389.0349890136719, "cut_end_time": 412.29005151367187}, {"text": "Gordon found one tablet of painkiller left in the bottle and swallowed it with the dregs of the coffee. He made sure his knife was in its sheath and that the gun at his side was loaded. He found his police club, checked the loop at its end, and slipped it onto his wrist.", "start_byte": 170042, "end_byte": 170313, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 413.2799987792969, "end_time": 432.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 413.6249987792969, "cut_end_time": 431.8001237792969}, {"text": "At the door to the hall, he hesitated, staring at Sheila's room. Wife or prisoner? He turned it over in his mind, knowing that her words couldn't change the facts. But in the end, he dropped the key and half his money beside her door, along with a spare knife and one of his guns.", "start_byte": 170315, "end_byte": 170595, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 432.8800048828125, "end_time": 455.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 433.58500488281254, "cut_end_time": 454.59000488281254}, {"text": "He went by Izzy's room without stopping; technically, the boy was an enemy to all Municipals. This might be neutral territory, but there was no use pressing it. Gordon went down the stairs and out through the seal onto the street entrance, still in the shadows.", "start_byte": 170597, "end_byte": 170858, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 455.239990234375, "end_time": 474.4800109863281, "cut_start_time": 455.76499023437503, "cut_end_time": 473.59011523437505}, {"text": "His eyes covered the street in two quick scans. Far up, a Legal cop was passing beyond the range of the single dim light. At the other end, a pair of figures skulked along, trying the door of each house they passed. With the cops busy fighting each other, this was better pickings than outside the dome.", "start_byte": 170860, "end_byte": 171163, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 474.4800109863281, "end_time": 496.44000244140625, "cut_start_time": 475.0450109863281, "cut_end_time": 495.78007348632815}, {"text": "He saw the Legal cop move out of sight and stepped onto the street, trying to look like another petty crook on the prowl. He headed for the nearest alley, which led through the truckyard of Nick the Croop.", "start_byte": 171165, "end_byte": 171370, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 496.44000244140625, "end_time": 509.67999267578125, "cut_start_time": 496.94500244140625, "cut_end_time": 509.0100024414063}, {"text": "The entrance was in nearly complete darkness. Gordon loosened his knife and tightened his grip on the locust stick.", "start_byte": 171372, "end_byte": 171487, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 509.67999267578125, "end_time": 517.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 510.2749926757813, "cut_end_time": 517.0701176757813}, {"text": "Suddenly a whisper of sound caught his ears. He stopped, not too quickly, and listened, but everything was still. A hundred feet farther on, and within twenty yards of the trucks, a swishing rustle reached his ears and light slashed hotly into his eyes. Hands grabbed at his arms, and a club swung down toward his knife. But the warning had been enough. Gordon's arms jerked upwards to avoid the reaching hands. His boot lifted, and the flashlight spun aside, broken and dark. With a continuous motion, he switched the knife to his left hand in a thumb-up position and brought it back. There was a grunt of pain; he stepped backwards and twisted. His hands caught the man behind, lifted across a hip, and heaved, just before the front man reached him.", "start_byte": 171489, "end_byte": 172240, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 517.8800048828125, "end_time": 573.6400146484375, "cut_start_time": 518.3250048828126, "cut_end_time": 573.0600673828126}, {"text": "The two ambushers were down in a tangled mess. There was just enough light to make out faint outlines, and Gordon brought his locust club down twice, with the hollow thud of wood on skulls.", "start_byte": 172242, "end_byte": 172431, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 573.6400146484375, "end_time": 586.8800048828125, "cut_start_time": 574.1550146484375, "cut_end_time": 586.3700771484375}, {"text": "His head was swimming in a hot maelstrom of pain, but it was quieting as his breathing returned to normal. As long as his opponents were slower or less ruthless, he could take care of himself.", "start_byte": 172433, "end_byte": 172625, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 586.8800048828125, "end_time": 600.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 587.2550048828125, "cut_end_time": 599.8200048828126}, {"text": "The trouble, though, was that Isaiah Trench was neither slow nor squeamish.", "start_byte": 172627, "end_byte": 172702, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 600.6799926757812, "end_time": 606.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 601.3949926757813, "cut_end_time": 605.3501176757812}, {"text": "Gordon gathered the two hoodlums under his arms and dragged them with him. He came out in the truckyard and began searching. Nick the Croop had ridden his reputation long enough to be careless, and the third truck had its key still in the lock. He threw the two into the back and struck a cautious light.", "start_byte": 172704, "end_byte": 173008, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 606.0800170898438, "end_time": 625.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 606.3950170898438, "cut_end_time": 625.1300170898438}, {"text": "One of them was Jurgens' apelike follower, his stupid face relaxed and vacant. The other was probably also one of Jurgens' growing mob of protection racketeers. Gordon yanked out the man's wallet, but there was no identification; it held only a small sheaf of bills.", "start_byte": 173010, "end_byte": 173276, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 625.7999877929688, "end_time": 647.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 626.2249877929688, "cut_end_time": 647.1300502929688}, {"text": "He stripped out the money -- and finally put half of it back into the wallet and dropped it beside the hoodlum. Even in jail, a man had to have smokes.", "start_byte": 173278, "end_byte": 173429, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 647.7999877929688, "end_time": 658.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 648.3449877929688, "cut_end_time": 657.3401127929687}, {"text": "He stuck to the alleys, not using the headlights, after he had locked the two in and started the electric motor. He had no clear idea of how the battles were going, but it looked as if the Seventh Precinct was still in Municipal hands.", "start_byte": 173431, "end_byte": 173666, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 658.0800170898438, "end_time": 674.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 658.6750170898438, "cut_end_time": 673.6500795898438}, {"text": "There was no one at the side entrance to Seventh Precinct Headquarters and only two corporals on duty inside; the rest were probably out fighting the Legals, or worrying about it. One of the corporals started to stand up and halt him, but wavered at the sight of the captain's star that was still pinned to his uniform.", "start_byte": 173668, "end_byte": 173987, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 674.0800170898438, "end_time": 695.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 674.4750170898437, "cut_end_time": 695.1100170898437}, {"text": " Gordon told him sharply.", "start_byte": 174009, "end_byte": 174034, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 696.52001953125, "end_time": 698.0800170898438, "cut_start_time": 696.49501953125, "cut_end_time": 698.00008203125}, {"text": "The corporal stuttered. Gordon knocked him out of the way with his elbow, reached for the door to Trench's private office, and yanked it open. He stepped through, drawing it shut behind him, while his eyes checked the position of his gun at his hip. Then he looked up.", "start_byte": 174095, "end_byte": 174363, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 702.5599975585938, "end_time": 718.7999877929688, "cut_start_time": 703.1949975585937, "cut_end_time": 718.2600600585938}, {"text": "There was no sign of Trench. In his place, and in the uniform of a Municipal captain, sat the heavy figure of Jurgens.", "start_byte": 174365, "end_byte": 174483, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 718.7999877929688, "end_time": 726.719970703125, "cut_start_time": 719.2149877929688, "cut_end_time": 726.1700502929688}, {"text": " he snapped. Then his eyes narrowed, and a stiff smile came onto his lips as he laid the pen down.", "start_byte": 174494, "end_byte": 174592, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 727.47998046875, "end_time": 734.4000244140625, "cut_start_time": 727.45498046875, "cut_end_time": 734.14010546875}, {"text": "The heavy features didn't change as Jurgens chuckled.", "start_byte": 174645, "end_byte": 174698, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 738.719970703125, "end_time": 742.52001953125, "cut_start_time": 739.4049707031251, "cut_end_time": 742.250095703125}, {"text": "Gordon tried to grin in return as he moved closer, slipping the heavy locust club off his wrist.", "start_byte": 174975, "end_byte": 175071, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 761.52001953125, "end_time": 768.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 761.86501953125, "cut_end_time": 767.63001953125}, {"text": " Jurgens said.", "start_byte": 175127, "end_byte": 175141, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 771.4400024414062, "end_time": 772.3599853515625, "cut_start_time": 771.4150024414063, "cut_end_time": 772.2700024414063}, {"text": "Gordon shook his head slightly, while the nerves bunched and tingled in his neck.", "start_byte": 175196, "end_byte": 175277, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 776.1199951171875, "end_time": 781.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 776.5249951171875, "cut_end_time": 781.1900576171876}, {"text": " he said truthfully enough.", "start_byte": 175322, "end_byte": 175349, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 783.9199829101562, "end_time": 787.1599731445312, "cut_start_time": 783.9049829101563, "cut_end_time": 785.8200454101562}, {"text": "Jurgens reached out for tobacco and filled a pipe. He fumbled in his pockets, as if looking for a light. \"Too bad. I knew you weren't in top shape, so I figured a convoy might be handy. Well, no matter. Trench left some instructions about you, and -- \"", "start_byte": 175351, "end_byte": 175603, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 787.1599731445312, "end_time": 804.6799926757812, "cut_start_time": 787.3749731445313, "cut_end_time": 804.5500356445312}, {"text": "His voice was perfectly normal, but Gordon saw the hand move suddenly toward the drawer that was half-open. And the cigarette lighter was attached to the other side of the desk.", "start_byte": 175605, "end_byte": 175782, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 804.6799926757812, "end_time": 815.8400268554688, "cut_start_time": 805.2249926757813, "cut_end_time": 815.2301176757812}, {"text": "The locust stick left Gordon's hand with a snap. It cut through the air a scant eight feet, jerked to a stop against Jurgens' forehead and clattered onto the top of the desk, while Jurgens folded over, his mouth still open, his hand slumping out of the drawer. The club rolled toward Gordon, who caught it before it could reach the floor.", "start_byte": 175784, "end_byte": 176122, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 815.8400268554688, "end_time": 839.47998046875, "cut_start_time": 816.3250268554688, "cut_end_time": 838.9200268554688}, {"text": "But Jurgens was only momentarily out. As Gordon slipped the loop over his wrist again, one of the new captain's hands groped, seeking a button on the edge of the desk.", "start_byte": 176124, "end_byte": 176291, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 839.47998046875, "end_time": 850.1199951171875, "cut_start_time": 839.9149804687501, "cut_end_time": 849.6700429687501}, {"text": "The two corporals were at the door when Gordon threw it open, but they drew back at the sight of his drawn gun. Feet were pounding below as he found the entrance that led to the truck. He hit the seat and rammed down the throttle with his foot before he could get his hands on the wheel.", "start_byte": 176293, "end_byte": 176580, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 850.1199951171875, "end_time": 868.0399780273438, "cut_start_time": 850.6649951171876, "cut_end_time": 867.1500576171875}, {"text": "It was a full minute before sirens sounded behind him, and Nick the Croop had fast trucks. He spotted the squad car far behind, ducked through a maze of alleys, and lost it for another few precious minutes. Then a barricade lay ahead.", "start_byte": 176582, "end_byte": 176816, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 868.0399780273438, "end_time": 885.239990234375, "cut_start_time": 868.6449780273438, "cut_end_time": 884.5500405273438}, {"text": "The truck faltered as it hit the nearly finished obstacle, and Gordon felt his stomach squashing down onto the wheel. He kept his foot to the floor, strewing bits of the barricade behind him, until he was beyond the range of the Legal guns that were firing suddenly. Then he stopped and got out carefully, with his hands up.", "start_byte": 176818, "end_byte": 177142, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 885.239990234375, "end_time": 908.0, "cut_start_time": 885.9049902343751, "cut_end_time": 907.100052734375}, {"text": " he reported to the three men in bright new Legal uniform who were approaching warily.", "start_byte": 177220, "end_byte": 177306, "is_quote": false, "start_time": 913.9600219726562, "end_time": 919.5999755859375, "cut_start_time": 914.3550219726562, "cut_end_time": 919.2400219726562}]}
\ No newline at end of file